Lions, Tigers and Bears. Oh My!
Usual disclaimers apply. The following contains male-to-male sex.
If you are under age or such reading is illegal in your country,
please go elsewhere. Otherwise, please enjoy.
Comments and Critiques are welcomed at Kindar@wereanimal.net
June 21st, 1878
It’s the sound of the revolver being cocked more than the feel of it against my head, or what he’d said that made me freeze. When someone puts a gun to your head he’s just trying to scare you; when he cocks the hammer he’s telling you that he’s serious about using it. I would survive the shot, but it wouldn’t get me my satchel back.
I looked at the Indian boy I was holding against the wall with one hand. I wasn’t fast enough for the other man’s taste and he pressed the barrel of the revolver harder against my skull. I released the satchel and the orphan hugged it to his chest. I didn’t let him go.
“He’s a bad man,” the orphan spoke quickly in Bengali, “he chased me and now he wants to hurt me.”
“The boy says ya
wanna hurt him.”
The man’s English was from the
“What I want,” I replied, my English much truer, with only a hint of German in it, “is to regain my satchel, which this boy stole.”
“The bag’s yours?” The man asked in a heavily accented Bengali.
“Yes, yes. My father gave it to me on his death bed. He made me promise to always care for it like I cared for him. This foreigner wants to take it from me.”
“He says it’s his.”
I controlled by desire to snort. “Of course he would say that. Maybe he can explain why the initials on the satchel are S and G, which stand for Simon Gruenberg. Why the notebooks in it are filled with writings in English and German rather than Bengali?” I didn’t mention some of the other things in it. I didn’t want to have to take a chance on the man’s reaction while the revolver was at my head.
“What’s in it,” he asked the orphan after a moment of silence.
The boy was taken by surprise at the question. “My things,” he said.
The boy fiddled with the satchel while his mouth opened and closed. “Papers,” he finally said, “inks and quills, for school.”
The man was silent for a moment and I heard the revolver’s hammer being slowly lowered. “Show me,” he told the orphan.
The boy shook his head and held the satchel tighter against him.
“Give it here.” The man extended a hand to the boy, who simply continued to shake his head. With a grunt of annoyance the man reached out and ripped it out of the orphan’s arms.
“Move and ya end up with a holed up melon, got it?” He pressed the revolver against my head for emphasis before removing it. I heard the satchel being put on the ground and opened. I didn’t bother looking; I knew what he was going to find in it. I just hopped he didn’t dig too deep.
He rummaged through the papers and I heard a few things clank against each other. Since only two sets of things could make that noise, and my fountain pens were securely attached to the satchel’s flap, I tensed and waited for the man’s reaction.
“What’s this now?” he said and pulled it out. He let out a chuckles and asked in Bengali, “So this is yours boy?”
The orphan nodded eagerly. I wondered if he even knew what he was looking at.
The American threw it on the ground at the boy’s feet. It was my white marble dildo. My cock jumped at the site. It was my favorite for long lonely train trips when I couldn’t find a compartment with a woman in it.
“Let the boy go.”
I did as I was told. If he hadn’t shot me in disgust yet he wasn’t going to, but I stayed ready to catch the orphan if he decided to bolt. He wasn’t holding my bag anymore, but I was still planning on boxing his ear for stealing.
“Pick it up,” he told the orphan, “and show me how you use it.”
Looking at us warily he bent down and picked it up. It was a remarkably plain cylinder made of white marble. It was twelve inches long, the last inch on one end tapered to a rounded tip. It had been smooth to a polish by centuries of use; and that was before I took possession of it.
If you didn’t know what it was for there was no way to find out just by looking at it. So the boy could only turn it over as it sunk in that he’d been caught.
“Do you know what it’s used for boy?” the man asked.
The orphan looked at him fearfully and shook his head. He looked completely defeated.
“You take the pointed end and push it against your asshole until it goes in and then you pull and push it until you reach orgasm.”
I was impressed at the man’s use of the language. He knew it better than I did; I had to take some time to work out what some of the words he’d use meant.
The boy took about as long to put together what the action described mean. When it sank in he quickly dropped the stone dildo and looked at me with horror. I just tilted my head and smiled at him. He started praying for protection to some Hindu God, talking so fast I could hardly follow the words. And the next moment he bolted. I didn’t even think to try to catch him.
Oh well, I think he’d been scared enough already. He was probably going to think twice about stealing again, hopefully.
The man stepped
next to me and bent
down to pick up the dildo. He was wearing a sandy duster, a Stetson hat
straight short black hair, the first time I’d seen one of those out of
He turned and I had another surprise. It wasn’t a tall man with a long and angular American face that looked at me. It was a man barely my height with a round one and a light tan; he had almond shaped eyes and a small nose. The man was Chinese.
“Well, ya want it back, or ya want me to keep it for my own use?”
I looked at the offered stone in his black leather hand and shook myself out of surprise to take it. “I apologize for my reaction. I didn’t expect to see . . .” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to offend him; he was still holding the revolver.
He smiled at me. “Never seen an American before I take it.”
“Actually I spend
a few years in
He put the revolver in the holster at his hip. “They’re a few here and there,” He said and started walking back toward the main roads.
I quickly latched
the flap and
threw the satchel over my shoulder. I ran after him and walked in step
him. “How did you get to
“They don’t, far as I know. I got there with the French. What ‘bout ya? Where ya from?”
“Ah, the new German Empire.”
I had to chuckle at that. “It won’t last. The nobles won’t allow their powers to be stripped away by some Kaiser with delusions of grandeur.”
The American looked at me. “Ya really think so?”
“So what ya doing all the way out here if yer not hiding from the Kaiser?”
“I’m a historian.
I’m here to study
the history of Kolkata and
He leaned in close. “ya know, werewolves can’t hide when they lie any better than humans.”
I stopped in my tracks and watched him continue. I tried to wrap my mind around what he’d said. How had he figured out I was a werewolf? He wasn’t one of us, I would have recognized the underlying scent, but he’d also referred to humans as something separate from him.
I watched him stop and turn. For the very first time a hundred years I was scared. What was he that he could walk next to someone who can break a human in half without having to put too much thought in it, and not even smell worried?
He took a step toward me, and I took one back, trying to remember where the alleys were and where they led in case I needed to make a quick run for it.
“Whoa friend, No need ta worry, I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
What he said didn’t stop me from taking two steps back for the next one he took.
He stopped and held his hands at his side palms toward me. “‘kay, I can tell ya scared of me. Don’t blame you. Shoulda been more smooth about it. Look, ya wanna run. I won’t stop ya. And I won’t look for ya if you do. But I’d really like it if you’d stay. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone that’s even a bit like me.”
He kept his distance so that helped me calm down and think straight. He’s known I was a werewolf; probably smelled it on me. He knew enough about us to recognize the scent, so he probably knew about silver too. If he’d wanted to hurt me he’d had plenty of chances.
So I was reasonably certain I was safe, but I’d feel so much safer once I’d know more about him. I took a breath and held it, trying to remember the calming techniques I thought were ingrained in me.
I didn’t open my mouth until I was certain my voice would be steady. “What are you?”
“I’m a weretiger, my name is Lao Hu.”
I looked at him
spent years in
“Do you simply expect me to believe you,” I asked him. I’d regained control of my body and of my instinct to flee.
“Nah, I can
change right now if ya
want, but it might scare the people who see
So I was offered with a dilemma. Force him to prove what he was right here and risk a panic, or trust him enough until we could go somewhere more private.
“I have a room not too far from here,” I said, once I made my decision.
I guided him to my hotel, staying a few steps behind him. I could smell the hint of worry coming from him now, but I had no way of knowing what was worrying him.
The Indian doorman gave Lao Hu a doubtful look as we got close, but smiled when he saw me and opened the door for us.
Once in my room Lao whistled. “I didn’t know ya could get into a place like this. I gotta sleep in a room the size of a casket if I wanna sleep inside.”
The room was indeed large. The enormous four poster bed was the center piece of the room, and there was enough room around it for another one on every size. The room was decorated with gold and greens and reds and paintings of Indian rulers hunting. I did a quick check to see if any were hunting tigers. I’d never really paid attention to them. They weren’t.
I felt even calmer here. This was my space, I still didn’t know what he was, but I knew where my weapons were. My sword cane with the silver blade was by the writing desk, in the drawer I had two sniders ready for use; as well as multiple knives hidden about the room. I might be very difficult to kill, but enough people had tried that I preferred being prepared.
He hadn’t moved from in front of the door as I’d got to the desk. I put the satchel on it and turned. I waited for a moment. “Well?” I asked when he didn’t do anything.
“I got to get out of these first; didn’t bring a change.” There was no discomfort in his voice. I nodded and he slowly undid his belt, hanging it on the coat rack by the door. He hung his duster over it and his shirt over that. After that he removed his boots and pants. The man had no more modesty than I did and in no time he was naked.
My cock grew hard as I admired his body. Like me he was small and compact, but his muscles were more visible then mine under a smooth skin. His cock was soft and rather small. He had almost no hair around it.
“Very nice,” I commented.
What happened next made my jaw drop. His skin rippled and changed colour to match the marking of a tiger; orange with black stripe. Then the fur started growing and the colours deepened. I watched as his face elongated into a muzzle and his ears moved to the top. His black hair fell out as orange fur grew in its place. When I looked at his cock again it had filled out so that even though it was still soft it looked to be at least six inches in length.
When Lao Hu was done changing he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well,” he said. His voice was now deep, and rumbled across the room.
‘Well what?’ Was all I could think as I admire him. He was now taller, by maybe a foot. He was even taller than I was changed. His entire body looked like it had inflated slightly, the lines of his muscles were now more visible, even under the short fur. He was . . .
He smiled. “Thanks.” His cock jumped a little as he said that.
In a lust induced daze I walked to him and ran my hands through his chest. The white fur was a little longer there. I buried my nose in it and breathed in deeply. I could distinguish the tiger in his scent now. It was a very primal smell.
My hands went down his belly and the rest of my body followed until I was on my knees. It never even occurred to me to check if he was ok with this I just took his balls in one hand and his cock in the other. The skin was silky and looked completely human.
He moaned and his cock became hard. His groin had a surprisingly clean scent. I couldn’t wait. I put the tip in my mouth and suckled on it. I was surprised at the absence of precum, but it just made me take more of it in. I didn’t stop until I had swallowed it all, even if my throat was stretched painfully.
“Ya’re good at this,” Lao purred.
As an answer I sucked him off.
I was in heaven. I had been with a lot of guys in my life, but none as exotic as him. He tasted as wonderful as he smelled. Eyes closed I lost myself in the sensations until he grabbed my head.
“Oh Yah, you got a good mouth,” he growled. He held me still and started thrusting, forcing me to deep throat him.
I didn’t mind, until I realized how close he was getting. I pushed him away, which proved more difficult then it sounded. He didn’t want to stop. I had to use all my strength to slip away from him. I ended up sitting on the floor panting for breath,
“Why ya went an did that?” he complained. “I was good and ready to go.”
“I know, which is why I stopped you. I don’t want to swallow it. I want you to fill me from the other end.” I stood and removed my clothes.
Lao Hu stroked himself as he watched me, he was enjoying what he was seeing. “Ya gonna change?”
“No. I want to experience you human first. Lie on the bed.”
He did as I said and I joined him. I didn’t waste time, I straddled him and pushed his saliva covered cock inside me. I know that his cock was not really any different than any of the humans I’d taken, but because of his exotic smell and look everything about him felt different, and more pleasurable.
I moved up and down his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed my hips and proceeded to fuck me. He didn’t last long, he roared and I felt him explode inside me.
His bucked as his cock emptied itself and then he lied still, panting. That was something I could get used too. Few humans were this energetic in bed.
I had barely finished the thought that he grabbed me by the hips again and rolled so I was on my back. Without a word he started fucking me again, savagely. I reached orgasm within seconds, and a moment later he reached his. But again he didn’t stop for long.
That night was the first time I lost consciousness before my partner.
Please send Comments and Critiques to Kindar@wereanimal.net