Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Tiger Tiger

   (M/g shapeshifter spank whip reluc "inc")

   Written by cc

   Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal
hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?



   In the forests of the night, I lay in wait.  My prey was dawdling, and I
was getting bored.  A predator has to kill time somehow, so I cast my
memory back...

   [WAP!] "AAAA!  Oh, 'Daddy', Please!" the little preteen girl wailed as I
swung the tawse back and forth against her clenching buttocks.  Once they
were nicely reddened I turned my attention to her nipples, barely breaking
the plane of her chest.  [SWAK!  SMAK!] "AAAAAH! 
OH'DADDY'PLEASEI'LLBEGOODPLEASEI'LLBEGOOD!  AH!  AH!  AH!" she cried out
wildly as the ancient tool brought her nipples to erection.  Tossing the
tool aside I seized her little breastbuds, kneading and working them as she
gasped and moaned.  Sliding my hands down, and down, the crack of a twig
caught my attention...

   Instantly alert, I slid out of the thicket and padded along paralleling
the trail.  I knew where they were.  I knew who they were.  I knew what
they had.  I knew where they were going, now.  I wanted to wait for just
the right moment...

   They had to go there.  It was the only transfer point they could use,
being no more than 4th circle, maybe only 5th.  The Courts obviously
thought this route was a milk run.  Usually they'd be right.  The goons had
snatched their victim from disputed Shadows no one cared much about and
headed for the jump-off area.  No reason for them to think anything would
go wrong.  I was the fly in the ointment, the monkey in the wrench.

   I gained a vantage point from which I could hear and see inside the
small cabin they were staging in before making their next move through
Shadow.  Up until then I expect they had not done anything overt to scare
their captive.  They had presumably made out to be her benefactors,
rescuing her from the admittedly dire straits an abandoned little girl in
those particular Shadows is likely to face.  But they were taking her to
circumstances equally bad, if not worse.  The Courts of Chaos were
perpetually short on slaves, mostly because they went through them at an
alarming rate.  The life of a little slave girl there was likely to be
highly interesting, but distressingly short.

   But not this time.  I could see her, a cute little thing, huddled in a
corner of one room.  The goons were now laughing and joking together, not
trying to hide anything anymore.  I heard one say, "Shall we have a little
fun with her first?  We don't have to leave any marks..." The other one was
clearly considering the idea.  It was time to make my move.  I could see
that the girl was getting alarmed.

   I banged the door open.  They jumped, but were at least professional
enough not to panic.  One swung his blaster in my direction.  A quick kick
knocked it away.  I suppose the speed of my attack convinced them to adopt
more stringent methods.  They shifted, becoming what I knew had to be their
only alternate forms (the lower circles of the Courts generally couldn't
manage more than two; I had only two myself, but that's because of the bit
of Amber within me; my two are enough, however), lithe felines, looking
something like cougars, but glowing a nauseating green.  The girl was
petrified.

   They flanked me.  "What have we here?" one hissed, sibilantly.

   The other replied, (over-)confidently, "Man, most mortal?"

   "Come and find out," I said softly.  As they approached, I shifted too.
Before they could retreat, what looked like a large Bengal tiger was upon
them.  I sent one flying, neck broken, with one swipe.  The other I pinned
to the floor and gutted.  His glow flickered.

   "I die the final death, and so I know thee, Chaos Lord.  Why dost thou
slay me?" he croaked.

   "Change of heart," I replied, and blew out his lights.

   With the battle lust on me, I couldn't flip forms that quickly.  But I
had to do something about the girl.  She was freaked, naturally.  I lay on
the floor, and half rolled over, trying my best to purr.  "Fear not," I
said, though I doubt if she caught it, since it sounded so growly.  I
cautiously crept towards her, belly to the floor, like a submissive dog
will when called to his master.  She huddled back against the wall.

   I had an idea.  The blaster still lay on the floor where it had fallen.
I pushed it towards her, butt first.  "Here, see: I give you gun," I
purred, hoping she would catch it.

   Something seemed to click in her mind.  She reached out and touched the
gun.  If she had grabbed it and fired, it could have been bad; I might even
have 'died the final death', myself!  But then she pulled her hand back and
stammered, "I-it's OK.  I-I'm not afraid!"

   We just stayed like that for a few moments.  I was half rolled over, and
painfully aware of my rod, rampant and protruding from its sheath.  In
tiger form I can't control the 'gallant response' around a pretty little
girl.

   "Wh-what are you?  What were those...cats?  What's going on?" She was
beginning to tear up a little.  I wanted to get back to human form, but I
needed a little help, if I was going to do it fast.

   "I'll explain everything, but I need to...get back to how I was.  Will
you help me?" Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

   "Are you like a-an enchanted prince, or something?" she asked,
charmingly.

   "Something like that.  I know it might seem...icky, but I need you to
touch my...thing.  It won't hurt you.  And as soon as you do, I'll be a man
again, and we can talk better," I growled.  I don't know how much she
understood, but she reached out for my member.  My eyes closed in
anticipation.  I knew, under the circumstances, that it would only take a
touch.  Sure enough, as soon as I felt her, like a little butterfly landing
on my rod, I spurted.  She pulled back, but before she could blink, I was
in man-form again, down on one knee before her, holding her hand.

   "Are you all right?" I inquired.

   She just nodded slowly, then burst into tears, collapsing against my
chest, staining my shirt with her tears as she sobbed, "Th-they (SOB) were
gonna (SOB) hurt me (SOB), weren't they (SOB)?"

   "Shh-shh, it's all right, nothing's going to happen to you now, little
one, everything's all right."

   She had heard what the cat said, so I had to tell her something about
myself.  I gave her the 'short form' for explanation, and she seemed
satisfied.  It would have taken too long to tell her how, like my distant
cousin (I have a bit of the blood of Amber in me, on my mother's side)
Corwin, I too had spent time on the Shadow known as Earth, also with
amnesia, so that I got to know what it was like to live as a mortal.  Like
him, I learned compassion.  During those years, I had still indulged
myself, but always with little girls who were basically willing; usually
ones I had rescued from some dire straits, wooed them, and who were at
least willing to let me do with them as I desired.  They all came to enjoy
it, eventually.  I stayed with each of them for their natural lives, aging
myself to accommodate them, continuing our 'play' for as long as they could
and would.

   Finally, through a rather traumatic sequence of events, I remembered who
I was: a Chaos Lord, but now unwilling to return to my former life.

   I thought of going over to Amber, but, unlike Corwin, I still had too
much of the Courts of Chaos inside me.  I knew my desires, and I knew that
I could not live in Amber, nor in any 'civilized' Shadow.  So I prowled the
Shadows in between, seeking at least to put a hurt on the Chaos slavers. 
Eventually they might send a Lord or two to find me, but that could be
millennia from now.  Chaos Lords are notorious procrastinators.

   I took her to a Shadow I knew where life was reasonably peaceful, but we
could stay on the edge of the forest; I needed lots of room at times.  She
clung to my arm as I negotiated Shadow to get there.  The changes in sky
color seemed to startle her most.  With the acute fear gone, and in the
aftermath of the strife, she was ravenous, so we stopped on the way at a
'Kentucky Fried Lizarde Partes' for a bite.

   We arrived at our destination, and settled in at my chateau, a little
place I kept for times I needed to retreat from the strife for a while. 
Very pleasant, lots of game and woodlands around, and a village nearby for
whom I was 'El Patron'.  Children were named after me.  Churches prayed for
me.  They were under my protection, and they thrived.

   Her name was Suzette.  She had been living in a drab orphanage, then
abandoned on the streets for a brief time when it collapsed in an
earthquake.  Life had been hard for her, but she retained a sweetness about
her, not to mention being cute as a button.  She looked to be about ten
years old, heartbreakingly slender, medium height, long dirty-blonde hair.
She was adorable.

   She fell into the household routine effortlessly, insisting on pitching
in with the staff (a kind and loving elderly couple, occasionally
supplemented by their seemingly endless supply of teenage grandchildren) in
doing housework, carrying my lunches in to me, and so forth.  She seemed to
take great pleasure in her new life, her nice clothes, plenty of good food,
fresh air, and lots of books.  She told me that visiting missionaries in
her home village had taught her to read, but she rarely had the chance to
use the skill.  Now she fairly reveled in the extensive library I
maintained.

   I gave her free run of the grounds and woods around the chateau.  I had
no fears for her.  This was a remote Shadow, and unwelcome guests were very
unlikely.  There were no dangerous beasts in the forest save one...me, in
Tiger form.  She was well-guarded at all times.

   She loved to wander through the woods, picking flowers, singing charming
little songs, dabbling her feet in the little streams.  On a day not long
after I brought her to the chateau I met her in the woods, as the Tiger.  I
placed myself in her path where she would be able to see me easily before
she came close to me; I didn't want to startle her.  As soon as she saw me,
I purred, "Hello again, little one.  Don't be afraid.  I will not harm
you."

   I think she understood this time, as she walked up to me with only what
appeared to be a bit of trepidation.  "I'm not afraid," she said, and put
her hand out towards me, gently stroking my whiskers.  I licked her hand,
and head-butted her legs like any housecat.

   "Would you like to ride?" I asked, and she climbed onto my back as if
she had done it all her life.  We romped through the forest, jumping,
running, rolling on the grass.  I would take her in my velveted paws, toss
her in the air as she shrieked with delight, and catch her easily, tickling
her, nuzzling her.  After a while we cast ourselves down in a meadow.  I
had my head on her lap, purring...

   We spent many days in this way.  She came to expect me to appear, and I
would play at hide-and-seek with her until she spotted my tail or whiskers.
When I Tiger-tickled her, I made no effort to avoid...certain areas, and
indeed took great delight in seeking out the area where her thighs met. 
She did not object in any way, and only seemed to enjoy it more.  After our
romp, I often ended with my head in her lap, purring.  Many times it seemed
to me that she moved her little hips almost involuntarily, as the vibration
affected her little groin.

   Of course, she was only ten, so it was inevitable that she would
misbehave eventually.  A bit of talking back here, staying up too late
there, pulling a prank or two on the housekeeper; it added up.  I called
her to my study.  "You've been naughty lately, haven't you, young lady?" I
inquired sternly.  She hung her head, but didn't answer.  "It is considered
polite to answer when you are spoken to, especially when an adult is
speaking and a child is being addressed," I intoned softly but firmly.  She
looked up, a bit taken aback.  I had not spoken sternly to her since her
rescue.

   "I-I'm s-sorry, M'Lord, I didn't mean...I mean I'm not trying..." she
began, then burst into tears.  I enfolded her in my arms and held her for a
while.  "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry" she kept sobbing out.  After a bit I
hushed her, held her out a bit, and dried her tears.

   "It's all right, I know you didn't mean to be naughty.  It's hard for
little girls to behave themselves all the time.  But what do you think I
should do with you now?" I waited expectantly.

   She hung her head and didn't say anything for a moment, then, "Y-you
should p-punish me, M'Lord," she whispered.

   "And how do you think I should do that?" I inquired.

   "I g-guess I should g-get a wh-whippin'," she said, and began to weep.

   I immediately knelt down beside her and cradled her in my arms.  "Did
they whip you at the orphanage?" I asked softly.  She nodded glumly.  "Did
it...hurt much?" She nodded again.  "Listen to me, little one.  I'm not
going to hurt you like that.  If I whip you, I don't think it will be
quite...as bad as when they whipped you.  Tell you what: let's try it.  If
it hurts too much, all you have to do is say "Ouch" or "No" or "Don't" or
"Stop", and I'll quit.  All right?" She looked up, with perhaps a bit of a
hopeful look in her eye, and nodded again.

   I bent her under my arm, tossed up the hem of her shift, pulled down her
little panties, and gave her a quick spanking, not particularly hard.  When
I was done, I stood her up, her panties still down around her ankles.  She
gave me a quizzical look and said, "Is that all?  Th-they used to spank me
much more than that, M'Lord.  I-it's not enough, don't you think?"

   Well!  With an opening like that, how could I resist?  I just replied,
"Very well, Suzette, you're right.  You should be punished properly." I led
her to a nearby divan and bent her over it, pulling my belt off as I went.
I wrapped it around my fist, letting about 6 inches of it dangle.  I swung
it back and forth across her faintly reddened bottom, bringing a fresh
flush to the cheeks, and whimpers and yelps from the little preteen's lips.
But she never said, "No", or "Stop", or "Don't", or "Ouch"!

   When I was done whipping her, I stood her up, enfolded her in my arms
gently, and held her, and rocked her, and reached down to rub her reddened
bottom as she whimpered and sniffled.

   After that I took her to the reverend who managed the child welfare
network of the village, a well-endowed institution, being a favorite of El
Patron's.  I insisted that he have her interviewed by the staff.  I wanted
to know what she wanted to do, and I wanted them to be satisfied with her
decision.  My former peers at the Courts would have sneered at me, but I
preferred to rule by persuasion and respect now, rather than fear and
force. It hadn't always been that way...

   Darker memories sometimes bubble to the surface, unbidden.  Long, long
ago, the village was already there...

   The yearly Festival of the Tiger was in full swing.  Vendors were out in
force, children ran and laughed.  Jugglers and mimes, sword-swallowers and
storytellers, everyone was there.  On the side stages a few young girls,
recently married to older boys or men, were bound in knee-chest position.
Their husbands, dressed in tiger costumes, were busily whipping them as
they cried out.  One, a sweet-looking 13-year-old, was already being anally
raped, moaning hoarsely with each thrust.

   El Patron stalked down the street, retinue trailing behind.  By his
order, as at every Festival, all the never-married females were lined up
along the sides of the street, naked.  Young mothers held their naked baby
daughters up as he passed, a little anxious, but trusting that past
experience would hold true: in living memory, no girl younger than nine had
ever been chosen for the Tiger.  Most girls were married by 13, so seldom
were there older teens or women present.  Emotions among the girls were
mixed, to say the least, but tempered by the knowledge that each one would
receive a bounty for their participation, whether they were chosen or not.

   Some of the townspeople watched avidly, others, seemingly uninterested,
busied themselves at the booths.  A few parents watched anxiously, whether
worried that their daughters would be chosen, or worried that they wouldn't
be, was sometimes hard to tell.  Sometimes the parents couldn't tell,
themselves.

   He stopped at each one, patting a cheek here, caressing a nipple there.
Some he lingered at: pretty little preteens, shivering and moaning at the
attention to their nakedness.  He would often run his hands up and down
their slender bodies, cupping their buttocks, then administering a brisk,
business-like spanking that left them softly sobbing.

   Some he knew well.  They had lined up before him in years past, but not
chosen.  He stopped in front of one he did not recognize.  She was perhaps
12, or 13, relatively well endowed for her age.  She looked almost haughty,
certainly not as trepidatious as the proceedings deserved.

   "And who is this proud beauty?" El Patron inquired of no one in
particular.

   "Her name is Liza, Your Grace; she recently moved to the village with
her family," one of his aides answered.

   "Why aren't you married yet, young lady?" El Patron asked her.

   The girl stared back, almost...scornfully, then replied, "The boys here
are so..."

   "So immature?" he finished for her, with a small smile.  She nodded
slowly.  He snapped his fingers.  "Let all the eligible bachelors from,
say, 15 years old and up assemble behind me now." With some bustle and
confusion it was done.

   "Now, young lady, let me see," he mused.  As he did so, he reached out
and seized her breasts, small, high, jutting out.  She gasped and moaned as
he kneaded and worked them, pinching and twisting her nipples.  "Can you
read?" Distraught at the abuse she was suffering, she did not answer.  "I
said, can you read?" he asked again, almost genially, but punctuating his
question with a sudden smack to the front of her bare thighs.

   "Y-yes, M'Lord," she managed to reply, hoarsely.

   Indicating with a flick of his head, he asked the young men behind him,
"Which of you can read?" He didn't bother to look; he knew that all would
raise their hands.  El Patron insisted on a proper education for all the
children of the village.  He smiled at the girl.  "It would seem that they
are not complete dolts, now, wouldn't it?  Young lady, do you know Latin?"

   She just stared at him.  In the same tone he repeated the question, this
time emphasizing it with a stroke from the tawse he pulled from his belt,
across her naked breasts.  "AAAH!  N-no, M'Lord, I d-don't know Latin!"

   "Can one of you young men tell me what 'Ex nihilo, nihil fit' means?"

   He didn't have to wait for the answer.  More than half immediately
replied, "From nothing nothing comes, M'Lord."

   "Very good.  How about 'Cogito ergo sum'?"

   All of them chimed in, "I think, therefore I am, M'Lord."

   "So, young lady," he said, punctuating each phrase with a stroke of the
tawse, now on breasts, now thighs, now buttocks, "It would seem that our
lads are not such bumpkins as you supposed, would it?  Would it, young
lady?" He asked again, targeting the crack between her bottom cheeks for a
particularly firm stroke that penetrated to her anus, making her jump and
shriek.

   "No, M'Lord, please M'Lord, they're all wonderful, M'Lord!"

   "And you would have no objections to marrying any of them, would you,
young lady?"

   "No, M'Lord, I would love to marry one, please, please M'Lord!" she
begged, as he continued to discipline her thighs, buttocks, and breasts
with the tawse.

   "Any of you young men who are not willing to marry her, step back." No
one moved.  The girl was pretty, and clearly favored by El Patron.  "It
seems you are not without suitors.  Pick one," he commanded her quietly. 
The girl, dazed, stared from one boy to another, saying nothing.  "Pick
one," he repeated in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the order with a
stroke of the tawse to her nipples.

   She jumped and cried out, "AAAH!  That one, M'Lord," indicating a tall,
well-favored lad of about 19.

   "Come forward, young man," El Patron ordered.  The boy stepped up.  El
Patron took each of their hands and put them together.  "I hereby pronounce
you man and wife."

   Addressing the new husband, he said almost off-handedly, "I want her
publicly whipped, and publicly raped.  Make sure she comes before you do,
boy; use your tongue if you have to.  You know how, yes?" The lad grinned
and nodded.  "Good," he replied.  On a whim he reached out and seized the
girl's cleft, probing for her hymen, then raking his finger forward to
press her clitoris excruciatingly against her pubic bone.  She trembled and
yelped from embarrassment and from the unexpected stimulation.  He withdrew
his hand and rubbed his fingers together, demonstrating the wealth of
natural lubrication she was already producing.  "But you might not have to.
Here, take this," El Patron said, tossing him the tawse.  "Use it
everywhere: thighs, buttocks, breasts, anus, and cleft.  Give this man a
tiger suit and set him up on a stage," he ordered his aides.  "Let them
have, say, half the 'Tiger's Bounty'."
That was a princely sum.  "Thank you, M'Lord!" the lad exclaimed.  The
girl was swaying on her feet, eyes half closed, knees weak.  He easily
lifted her into his arms and carried her off.  She draped her arms around

his neck and nestled into him.

   Dismissing them from his attention, El Patron continued down the line of
girls.  He came to one, a pretty little preteen of about nine.  She seemed
much more distraught than the rest.  Despite the general command to remain
displayed, she vainly tried to cover her nipples and cleft with her hands.
She was sobbing quietly, head downcast.  "And what about this poor little
thing?" he asked.  "Why such an outcry, hm?"

   "By your leave, M'Lord, her family is also new to the village.  Her
parents had to be...threatened, to get them to allow her to answer the
general call," one of his aides informed him, apologetically, indicating a
couple standing not far away with a desperate look, accompanied by some of
the village guard.

   El Patron snapped his fingers.  "My cloak!" he commanded.  Puzzled, the
aide handed it to him.  With elaborate tenderness El Patron wrapped it
around the grateful girl's shoulders, concealing her nakedness.  "Two
chairs, over there," he added, and it was done.  He gently led her to them
and sat beside her.

   "So, little one, you don't like being naked before a grown man, eh?" he
asked.  She shook her head, eyes downcast.  "That is understandable.  But
you must look at me when I am talking to you, and answer when spoken to,
hm?"

   She immediately looked up at him and stammered, "I-I'm s-sorry, M'Lord,
I meant no..."

   He cut her off with a wave of his hand.  "Never mind that.  I must
decide what to do with you.  Let me see..." he pondered for a moment.  She
and her parents looked on fearfully.  Surely some horrible fate was in
store for her.  Yet why did he put a cloak around her, and speak so gently
to her?  "I have it.  A quarter 'Tiger's Bounty' for you and your family,
and you are exempt from the Tiger's Call until and unless you decide
otherwise.  How's that?"

   The girl was confused, but barely realized that she was being excused
from torment, and being granted a boon.  "Th-thank you, thank you, M'Lord!"

   "You are welcome.  I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you.  It is...a
weakness of mine.  I am fond of pretty little girls, like you.  How do you
like our village, otherwise?" he inquired solicitously.

   "V-very well, thank you, M'Lord," she replied timidly.

   "And your parents treat you well?"

   "Yes, M'Lord."

   "And you always behave yourself, do you not?"

   "N-no, M'Lord, not always, I'm afraid..."

   "That's not unexpected.  Little girls often misbehave.  Have you
received punishment for every time you disobeyed your parents, or are there
some times perhaps they don't know about, hm?"

   "Not...every time, M'Lord."

   "Then perhaps you would be kind to a poor old man, and let me give you a
little spanking, since you have not received all that you deserved, eh?" He
'chucked' her tenderly under the chin, and gave her such a soulful look,
that, to her and her parent's surprise, she found herself crawling onto his
lap and laying down, the cloak riding up to present her bare bottom.

   He proceeded to give her a brisk but not too sharp spanking, bringing
little moans to her lips, little dances to her feet, and a little redness
to her buttocks.  He let her up with a last SMACK!  that left her with a
gasp and yelp, rubbing her bottom and stammering out, "Th-thank you,
M-M'Lord, thank you." Then she raced off to her parent's arms.  With a
grateful look at El Patron, they hurriedly headed home.  To no particular
surprise on his part, El Patron would see her lined up again, next year...

   Without further digressions, he examined the remaining girls.  He
concentrated on the preteens among them, lingering over their charms,
spanking their bottoms and thighs open-handedly, pinching and twisting
their nipples.  He finally signaled his preliminary choices in the
customary way: swinging the tawse a few times back and forth across a
little girl's mons and cleftlips as she cried out wildly.  He selected
three in this manner.

   They were brought to the center stage and each bound between two poles,
spread-eagled.  They were all three pretty little preteens, around ten
years old, heartbreakingly slender, with only buds for breasts that barely
broke the plane of their chests.  Their clefts were unfledged, prominent
clitorises poking out from between their puffy nether lips.

   Then their discipline began in earnest.  Now wielding a riding crop, El
Patron whipped them thoroughly, going from one to another, swinging the
tool back and forth across thighs front and back, buttocks, and nipples as
they moaned and wailed.  Then he amused himself by molesting their little
charms, pinching and twisting nipples, cupping and hefting their little
clefts, even penetrating and probing their anuses as they jerked and
yelped.

   But eventually he settled on one, the girl to the left, a stunning
preteen with long blond hair, chest heaving and eyes half-closed from the
intensity of her punishment so far.  He seized her buttocks and began to
front-spank her, sharp, medium-hard smacks that made her yip and yipe,
dancing from foot to foot.  He released her buttocks for a moment and held
out his hand.  An alert aide squirted some lubricant onto it.  He
insinuated it between her bottom cheeks to her anus, and pierced,
penetrated, and probed her with first two, then three fingers at once as
she cried out wildly.  Meanwhile he interspersed her cleft-spanks with
firm, excruciating rubbing of her clitoris against her pubic bone.  Soon
she was bucking, hips rocking back and forth, finally wailing out a
precious preteen orgasm as he continued to spank her vulva and clit.

   Suddenly he turned and stalked away.  His retinue knew not to follow. 
For those who had eyes to see, his form seemed to flicker for a moment,
looking almost...feline.  The girl was taken to the clearing just outside
the village, near the Manor.  The townspeople followed, at a respectful
(and safe) distance.  She was bound, firmly but not painfully, in knee
chest position on a wooden platform, with pads under her.  A few minutes
passed.

   A roar was heard from behind the Manor.  Suddenly, appearing as if out
of nowhere, he was there, the Tiger, just a few yards from the platform. 
He approached the girl and stood for a moment with his head near hers,
looking at her.  A low growling could be heard.  The girl whimpered.

   Then he strode to her rear.  His tongue, long and strong, lashed out,
seizing her cleft.  It was rough and sandpapery, yet slick at the same
time, as he rasped it over her tender intimate parts, probing in to her
hymen as she yelped, then rubbing firmly on her clitoris, even sliding back
to penetrate her anus.  In no time she was sobbing out another orgasm.

   He rose up over her, his mighty frame dwarfing her.  His rampant rod
could be clearly seen.  He took her from behind, like any tiger would,
ramming his rod deeply into her, hardly caring if it was her anus or sex
that he penetrated.  In fact it was her girlcleft first, raping her of her
maidenhead as she screamed and sobbed.  Then, lubricated by her own blood
and vaginal juices, he penetrated her anus, rutting deeply into her with
the quick, hard, rhythmic thrusts of a male animal.

   To many in the crowd the scene would occasionally shift, as if the
Tiger's form were taking over the girl's as well, and she would seem to
become a half-grown female tiger cub, being taken by the pride's alpha
male, exercising his droit de seigneur on her as she mewled and yowled.

   It was over quickly.  Spent and sated, the Tiger withdrew and turned
away almost contemptuously, stalking off behind the Manor.  The girl was
released to her parents, the Tiger's Bounty paid, the Festival over.

   In my defense I can only say...nothing.  It was indefensible.  I am only
thankful that I had enough of Amber in me to require no more blood in
sacrifice than that which mixed with the Tiger's seed, trickling down her
leg afterwards.  And the Bounty was generous.  Girls chosen for the Tiger
were almost always immediately wed, suitors vying for such a richly endowed
bride.

   But that was long, long ago, so long that no one in the village
remembered or recorded what really went on.  The only vestige of such
things was a saying regarding any pretty little girl, that she was "the
Tiger's".  And, during Festival, by tradition a preteen girl would be
chosen to be the Festival Queen, wear a skimpy little outfit, and dance
with a man dressed in a rather childish tiger costume.

   Now I waited outside the offices of the children's welfare department,
cooling my heels.  Eventually Suzette emerged, and ran to me, throwing
herself into my arms, saying, "Please, M'Lord, please let me stay with you,
can't I, please?" I looked up to see the reverend smiling and nodding.

   I held her close for a moment, then looked down at her, saying, "All
right.  For now.  But we'll need to have a good talk, hmm?" She nodded
happily.

   So I took her back home.  I let a few days go by, then sat her down for
the talk.  "Suzette, you have become very dear to me." She beamed.  "But I
know myself, and I know that I won't be able to go on living with you
exactly the way we have." She looked confused, and a little stricken.

   "Oh, M'Lord, please don't send me away, I wanna stay with you, O please,
please!" I cut her short with a hand laid to her lips.

   "Shh, I don't want to send you away, either.  I want you to stay with
me. But if you do, then I will not just raise you as my daughter, I will
want you for my wife, and my slave," I replied.  She seemed stunned.

   "Allow me to explain.  But first I have to know how much you know about
some things.  Do you know what it means to have sex?" Throughout all
Shadows, I think the preteen
'of-course-I-know-that-do-you-think-I'm-stupid?' look is universal.  "I'll
take that for a yes," I chuckled.

   "Then let me ask you this: do you know what 'sexual desire' is?" She
looked puzzled.  "Sexual desire is like being hungry for food, only it's
'hungry' for having sex.  Most men have this desire often.  Many women and
girls do, too.  Do you understand so far?"

   "...Uh-huh."

   "There actually are different types of sexual desire.  Most men just
have sexual desire for women and girls, usually pretty ones.  But some men
have other desires in addition to that.  These other desires are called
'fetishes', and they come in many different forms.  For instance, believe
it or not, little one, there are some men who don't get fully sexually
excited unless the woman they are with is wearing shoes, sometimes a
particular type of shoes, like high-heeled red ones." She looked
astonished. "It's true!  And there are many other totally different kinds
of fetishes.

   "You might have guessed why I'm telling you all this.  I am one of those
men who have a fetish.  Actually two of them.  One of them is this: I enjoy
spanking and sexually punishing a girl before and during sex.  Oh, I can
have sex without it, but it's much more enjoyable for me with it.  I'm not
talking about anything very painful, just the kind of punishments that any
father might give his little girl if she's been naughty.  But I do them...a
little differently!

   "The other desire I have is to have sex with a very young girl.  A girl
with slim hips, like yours," and I traced my hand over hers, as she froze
to the touch, seeming at once freaked out, yet at the same time not scared
at all.  "And only buds for breasts, like you," and I caressed her little
nipples through her thin blouse, making her tremble.  "And the face of an
angel, like yours," and I kissed her full on the mouth, not deep, but long
and sweet.  She was swaying where she sat, eyes half-closed, when I finally
drew away.  I cupped her chin in my hand and tilted her face towards mine.
"So that's how it is, little one.  I desire you.  I love you.  I want to
take you as my daughter, and my wife, and my slave.  I will love you, and
cherish you, protect you, and care for you.  I will also punish you, and
bind you when I use you sexually, like a master with his slavegirl.

   "But if you don't want that, I understand.  It's a lot to ask!  But if I
can't have you completely, then I don't think I can bear to keep on living
in the same house with you; it would be too frustrating for me!  So I'd
probably let the reverend find someone for you to stay with..." She pulled
a face, the similarly universal preteen 'yuck' face.  "I'll take that to
mean you don't like that idea," I chuckled.  She smiled shyly.  "Well,
little one, I'll tell you what.  You sit here and think about it for a
while.  You don't have to decide right away.  But sometime in the next few
days I need to know what you want to do.

   "And there's something else, something very important, that I'll need to
tell you, but I'd rather not unless you decide you want to stay with me," I
added.

   I turned and headed for the door.  But before I even touched the knob,
"M'Lord," she said.  I swiveled to face her.  "I-I want to stay with you,
M'Lord, as you desire it."

   "Suzette, do you know what that means?" I wanted to make sure she
understood.

   "It means you get to rape me, doesn't it?" The question hung in the air
between us, revolving lazily.  My head buzzed.  I could barely breathe. 
Vertigo, and a sudden jolt of...joy pierced me, so sharp it almost was
nauseating.  "Yes, it does," I finally managed to croak.

   I think she might have mistaken my pallor, sweat, and unsteadiness as
displeasure.  She seemed stricken, then hung her head, mumbling, "But I'm
so little, and not...sexy, like the big girls..."

   I swept her in my arms and held her for a while.  Then I looked into her
sweet, trusting, sad eyes, and poured out my heart to her.  How I loved
her, and wanted to cherish her and be with her always.  How I desired her
sweet little body.  How there was no one else in the world I would rather
marry than her.  The look on her face was worth more than all the jewels in
the world, as she flung herself into my arms in a fierce embrace while I
buried my face in her hair.

   Then I remembered.  "But, Suzette, there is one more thing I must tell
you.  And when you hear it, you may not want to stay with me, after all. 
Do you remember, when I rescued you, what happened?"

   "Of course, M'Lord, there were those two...men, or something, and you
came in, and...you were a-a tiger!  And then I touched your..." she looked
down in confusion.

   "Yes, Suzette, I was a tiger.  And I still am a tiger, sometimes.  Not a
real tiger, but I change into the shape of a tiger.  Usually when it would
be helpful, like then.  But I also change into a tiger when I am...excited.
Sexually excited.  Do you understand?"

   She thought about it a while, then nodded.  "You mean, when you rape me,
it will be the tiger raping me, right, M'Lord?"

   I hardly expected her to catch on that fast, or to be so seemingly calm
about it.  I could barely croak out acknowledgment that, yes, indeed it
would be the tiger that raped her.  She just put her little arms around me
again, saying, "OK.  I love you.  And I love the tiger."

   I just held her for a long time, though it seemed like only seconds. 
After a while I whispered in her ear, "You know you've been a naughty girl,
and you need to be punished, don't you?" I nearly held my breath, waiting.

   After a long beat, she just said, "Yes, M'Lord."

   I stood her up, bent her under my arm, and gave her a brisk,
business-like spanking, WAPWAPWAPWAPWAP!  She whimpered and yelped, "AAAH!
OHOHOH!  AAA!" as she danced from foot to foot.

   I stood her back up, and unceremoniously pulled her dress over her head,
and her panties down to her ankles, and commanded her to kick them off. 
Now she stood in only her knee socks and loafers, looking like an angel in
despair after her spanking.  I pulled my belt off and ran it through my
fingers as she looked on, eyes widening, trembling in anticipation.  I
strolled around her naked form, slapping my doubled-up belt in my palm,
admiring her slim hips, flat chest with nipples barely breaking the plane,
cute little bottom, and most darling of all, her unfledged girlcleft
peeping out from between her slender thighs.

   Suddenly I swung the belt onto the backs of her thighs, SWAP!  "OH!" she
cried out, and then, "AAA!  OOOOO!  AH-AH-AH!" as I continued to whip her
thighs and bottom.  I took the strap-end of the belt and paddled her
nipples with it, SMAKSMAKSMAK!  "AAAAAH!  OO-OO-OO-OO!" she cried out
wildly.  Soon her nipples were erect and fetchingly reddened.  I paused for
a moment to seize her little nipples and breast buds, kneading them and
working them as she moaned and writhed.

   I picked her up and carried her lithe form to the bedroom.  Laying her
on the bed I quickly fastened my mouth to her nipples, sucking and
nibbling. Moving south I found her jewel of a navel, and blew a flurbish
into it, making her squeal and giggle.  Then my mouth slid down, down, to
her maidenhood.  I probed her with my tongue, pressing firmly against her
hymen, making her cry out.  Then I caught her clitoris in a long,
excruciating bite between tongue and teeth.

   She began to come.  I quickly stood up and brought the belt down across
her swollen, glistening cleft lips.  She nearly screamed as she bucked up
and down in the throes of her little preteen orgasm.  As she shuddered out
the last of it I swept her up in my arms and held her close.  She clung
fiercely to me, her tears staining my collar as her tremors slowly
subsided. After a while I lay her gently down on the bed, kissed her
forehead, and whispered, "Good night, little love." She was asleep before I
pulled the covers to her chin.

   I, on the other hand, spent the night in the forest, roaring!

   The next day I sought out the reverend and made the arrangements.  In no
time we were standing in the church, I in my dress whites, she in a
gorgeous confection of lace, saying, "I do."

   When we got home I wasted no time.  Desire was pressing greatly on me.
In my, now our, chambers, I unceremoniously stripped her of her gown,
leaving her naked before me.  I took the tawse from my belt and began to
discipline her on her thighs, bottom, and breastbuds as she moaned and
yelped.  Then I took her to the divan and bound her to it, securely but not
cruelly, wrists and ankles, leaving her bottom high in the air, her anus
and unfledged cleft fully exposed.  She whimpered softly, then cried out
wildly as I brought the tawse to bear directly on her intimate places.  I
whipped her there lovingly and long, taking great pleasure in her little
cries and moans, seeing her writhe against her bonds, her little anus
clenching with each stroke as her bottomflower and girlcleft were so
fetchingly reddened.

   I could feel the change coming on me.  I tossed the tool aside and let
it come.  The Tiger was there.  He moved to her head and purred, rubbing
his fur against her, receiving her little kisses in return.  Then he strode
to her rear.  His tongue, long and strong, lashed out, seizing her cleft.
It was rough and sandpapery, yet slick at the same time, as he rasped it
over her tender intimate parts, probing in to her hymen as she yelped, then
rubbing firmly on her clitoris, even sliding back to penetrate her anus. 
In no time she was sobbing out a precious preteen's orgasm.

   He rose up over her, his mighty frame dwarfing her.  His rod was
rampant. He took her from behind, like any tiger would, ramming his rod
deeply into her girlcleft first, raping her of her maidenhead as she
screamed and sobbed.  Then, lubricated by her own blood and vaginal juices,
he penetrated her anus, rutting deeply into her with the quick, hard,
rhythmic thrusts of a male animal, as she wailed.

   Then I was spent, collapsing over her, man-form once more, releasing her
bonds and taking her in my arms as she sobbed out the last of her orgasm,
and her distress at her punishment and tiger-rape, kissing me through her
tears, holding me tight with her little arms and legs wrapped around me,
both of us finally content.

   The End

   By cc

   A note to my readers, faithful and occasional:

   To any who are at all distressed by the unaccustomed features of this
story, I apologize.  It certainly was an unusual one for me.  I don't
expect that there will be another like it.  I DETEST bestiality.  This does
NOT signal a major change in my subject matter.  End of subject.

   On a lighter note, huzzahs, and perhaps a prize (having failed to
deliver once on a prize, I no longer promise them with certainty) to the
readers who can identify certain items from the story:

   1.  The author's name and the name of the series of his (there's one
clue) books in whose 'universe' I have set this story.

   2.  The bit of action and dialogue I cribbed from those books.

   3.  The phrase I stole from an action movie, the name of the movie, and
the actor's name who spoke the line.

   4.  The phrase I stole from an older comedy movie, the name of the
movie, and the setting in which the original line occurred.

   I long for comments and communication, so please, talk to me!

   ccccc12345@lavabit.com