SHRINKS

It started, like all good obsessions, with some simple pleasures. Vista Books on Seventeenth had for many years prided itself on having an eclectic collection of books and magazines; sure, you could find the expected bestsellers on the shelves, but you’d find them along with a large array of unique and often pornographic underground zines and erotica to please just about any palate. The staff were also much less judgmental about what their patrons bought as a result; unlike one of those trashy porno stores right next to Capital Square that would still, this far into the ’80s, give you a few weird looks if a man bought a copy of Playgirl. (No longer having to embarrassingly claim the magazine was for his wife was one of the perks of heading into the hipper-than-thou aura the store cast over him.)

The name of the zine stuck out to Mark as much as the cheesy font: SHRINKS, all caps. Surprisingly thick for something underground, the volume had something like 70-80 pages–page numbers omitted, of course, standard practice for this stuff. Though he figured at first that the erotica would be focused on psychiatrists, he was surprised on leafing through the book to find all sorts of different stories, pictures, and illustrations of erotic scenarios involving men quite literally shrunken and at the mercy of normal-sized men. He blushed as he felt his cock harden against his jeans; he’d never really given unrealistic fantasies like these much attention, but something about the prose, the poor illustrations and clearly doctored photos looked so undeniably sexy to him that he couldn’t help but feel aroused.

He grabbed another, somewhat more conventional fetish magazine (bondage on the cover, some title like Leather Daddies or Kinky Secrets) to hide the copy of SHRINKS under as he headed to the register, but he really didn’t have to; the staff were as professional as ever, treating their perverted clientele the same way they’d treat an English professor buying a few copies of Ulysses. Thankful for the brown bag that hid his shame, he hurried out the door and drove back to his apartment, eager to dive into uncharted waters.

The first short story in the magazine didn’t really hold his interest. Something involving a diminutive mouse worshiping the footpaws of an overgrown, beefy bull. Sitting on his couch, unzipping his jeans to reveal the sizeable bulge already formed in his underwear, he freed his cock, running a paw up and down it with evident relish as he started to read the second story, simply titled “SMALL MAN”:

Absolutely everything I am about to write is 100% accurate. I have not exaggerated or embellished one iota of the information contained within. You don’t have to believe me, but that is the truth, and it’s important you know that going in.

Killer hook, the panther paused to think before he read on.

I first met James in a gay bar on the west side of town. He wasn’t really my type, at least not to begin with; he was all big and beefy, and I tend to prefer guys that are much, much shorter than me. And human to boot, and I’ve never been much of a fan of those hairless types. Still, he was insanely cute, with those boyish hips filling his jeans in all the ways that only a Kinsey six like myself can appreciate. And he really, really loved the idea of fucking a tiger. I’m kinda chubby, I’ll cop to that, and at least before I met James I was more than a little self-conscious about the few pounds I’d put on since I left both college and the weekly football games I used to play with friends on campus behind. So even though he wasn’t exactly my ideal erotic object, I took him home, we gave each other blowjobs, and we both liked each other enough to actually continue seeing each other. The perfect gay love story.

Well, not so much. The sex was good, sure, but James was kinda a meathead. He’d never even gone to college, and while that’s not usually a no-go for me or anything, he was dull as a sack of hammers when it came to anything besides whether the Badgers were gonna go all the way or idle gossip about people we both knew and even some jackasses that I didn’t. It just drove me more and more crazy with each passing day. I’ll skip over a lot of the petty dramas that led from A to B, but eventually I was so fed up that I had every intention of breaking up with him.

Except I saw him in his briefs one last time, and that was all it took for me to consider another option entirely. It wasn’t even conscious for me, to be honest. I’d never even tried it on a human before, but the moment I felt him dwindle before me, felt myself taking his height away, pulling it away strand by strand, watching him sink down to the floor…it all felt so right, so natural. It surprised me when James decided that he could even move, let alone run away from me. Didn’t he know better than that? “Come now, James, I thought you were smarter than that,” I boomed down. My voice must have shaken him deeply, given how quickly he stopped and turned around, gaping up at my massive form. He really wasn’t that dumb after all, not when it mattered.

It’s remarkable how easily he came to adore me. How much he savored his time with every single inch of his master’s body. He wasn’t even the submissive type, at least not when I met him…if anything he’d tried to dom me, and given my insecurities about guys like him, I was way more passive for our first few meetings than I should have been. But once I shrunk him, once he realized that I’d done it, and that I wasn’t going to make him bigger again…he practically melted in my hands. It just broke…I just asked him what he thinks about me, and he stuttered out the most adorable little “y-you’re my God, master!” before going back to licking the cum off my cock with his tongue.

It’s easy enough to tame someone in a situation like that. Most people aren’t stupid, and they react rationally to being forcibly captured. Shrinking someone isn’t really any different, even though it’s obviously…well, a bit unusual. He didn’t run away from me, not after I punished him for that first time leaving me. I didn’t like disciplining the little meathead, but once it was clear that I was in charge, and that I wouldn’t hesitate to do what I needed to to get what I wanted from him…he brightened up right quick. Always wanted to be on my good side, always willing to do whatever I wanted, so long as I didn’t hurt him anymore. Even started to call me his God, the adorable little human. Even insisted that I go back there and make sure the word was always capitalized.

By the time he’d read capitalized, Mark had already cum. Line after line of semen spurted out, coating his chest and even splashing his chin with a few drops. “What the fuck…” he’d muttered afterwards, shocked that this weird new fetish had been that powerful. It was like something he’d always been turned on by but never really thought about, something he’d always wanted to do but that he knew was impossible so he just kinda…didn’t pay attention to it. He had to know more.

“I know it’s a weird request, but…can’t you make an exception here?” he asked, showing the copy of SHRINKS to the amused clerk.

“Mark, right?” he asked, and all the panther could manage was a shy nod. “You’re lucky you’re so cute and you don’t just buy the smut here, or else I probably wouldn’t be willing to pull this shit up.” He turned around as he spoke, reaching down behind the counters of the independent bookstore and picking up a ratty, old binder filled with pieces of loose leaf paper covered. “The owner here’s not exactly organized, but thankfully the information is sorta in alphabetical order, and I know the guy’s name. Publius, though he always told me to just call him ‘Pub.’ If you’re lucky, we’ll actually have something on file here.”

As he leafed through the binder, Mark couldn’t help but feel himself weirdly drawn “Pub,” whoever he was. Even if he had written a weird ass story about shrinking his boyfriend…well, honestly BECAUSE he’d written the story, Mark wanted to meet him, to pick his brain and talk about all sorts of fun, kinky stuff. Besides, maybe he was cute, and clearly he was a local, if the clerk knew him by name…

“Here we go, he’s over in Bristol. I can write the address down for you…but look, dude…he was stupid enough to not make a PO Box for this thing, so I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything weird like stop by his house or anything, alright?”

Mark promised, already starting to write a letter in his head that he planned on delivering by hand.

Dear Publius,

I’m a huge fan of your zine, so much so that I asked the clerk at Vista Books for your address so I could write you a letter. I didn’t know that there was someone else who was into stuff like this before I read your stories, and honestly…I didn’t even really know that I was into it before I read the stuff. Haha.

I know I’m just some [here the word ‘random’ was poorly inserted with a ^] weirdo who has the same fetish as you, but do you wanna meet up sometime?

Mark

It was short, sweet, and to the point, but he almost couldn’t drop it into the guy’s mailbox when, three days after getting the address and writing the letter, he finally worked up the courage to drive over to the west side. The whole time he kept thinking he should just turn around, what was the point in actually doing this, he was just overthinking it and stupidly obsessed with some hot ideas, why did he have to try to take it out into the real world…but still, he kept on driving.

It took him an uncomfortably long amount of time to actually work up the courage to get out of the car, but once he did he knew there was no looking back. There wasn’t really a “bad” part of Bristol, but the neighborhood where Pub lived, Dunford Heights, was probably the closest the city came to a “wrong side of the tracks.” It was all a blur, but Mark could tell that the place was ratty and unkempt, and the wood on the porch creaked uncomfortably as he worked his way across it. Mark lived in an even shittier apartment just off campus, so he really didn’t have a reason to judge, but he couldn’t help himself from doing it just a little. Was this really the kind of guy he wanted to get mixed up with?

After what felt like an eternity, he thought “to hell with it,” opened Pub’s mailbox, dropped the folded note inside, and practically sprinted back to his car, hoping to be as far away as possible when the tiger actually read his note.

His response came in the mail a full week and a half later, typewritten and typo-free:

Dear Mark,

I was very pleased to receive your letter. I’ll confess I’ve never had an admirer before, especially one who actually comes to my door and leaves something for me, so hopefully you’ll forgive me for not knowing how to act at first.

You’ll probably be pleased to know that James was actually wrapped around my cock when you dropped off that message of yours. If I’d been better dressed I might have come out to greet you, but you were gone by the time I could pull on a pair of pants.

If you’d like to meet in person, feel free to stop by Winston’s on Big Sky any Wednesday night. I’ll be the chubby tiger behind the bar, and Wednesday’s are usually slow, so I should be able to talk you up for most of the night. Just mention that you’re the guy who liked the stories, but please don’t be weird about it.

Pub

P.S. Hopefully you won’t mind fighting James for my attention.

He was sticking to the story that he could shrink people, sure, but…it seemed more playful than delusional, the way he wrote. It was worth a shot, right? What was the worst thing that could happen? He’d have an awkward conversation and never go back to a bar he’d never been to before in the first place? Or he’d end up the shrunken slave of a gargantuan, chubby tiger God? The thought alone gave him shivers in all the right places.

He couldn’t bring himself to head to Winston’s that first week, but when the following Wednesday came around and Mark considered staying home once again, he made an effort to stop himself from being so anti-social. He was all nerves when he walked into the bar, exactly what you’d expect from a dive on that side of town. Pub had been right; it was six o’clock and the bar had maybe ten people in it, most of them murmuring silently at their tables, booths, or barstools. Getting a seat right in front of the chubby bartender was easy, and the panther shifted uneasily when Pub asked him if there was anything he could get him. “Oh, well um…I…could use a PBR, I guess?” he fumbled. He was ready to show his ID, even reaching down to grab the thing from his wallet, but Pub hurried off to the tap before his hand could even slip into his jeans pocket.

He was dressed in a red t-shirt and jeans that well complimented his chubby frame. He was heavier than the story let on, but Mark didn’t mind. If anything, it made the tiger look bigger, filling his mind with all sorts of fun thoughts. “Here you go,” Pub interrupted Mark’s train of thought, making the panther realize that he had been staring at the tiger for at least half a minute, and that Pub had noticed. “I hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree here, but could you be Mark? I didn’t get a good look before you bolted, but the way you’re staring at me…”

The panther jumped out of his skin when Pub called him by name, his skin turning a deep reddish hue underneath his fur. “I…well…y-yes, I’m Mark,” he stuttered out, trying to keep his composure and failing miserably.

“You’re much cuter than I remember, honestly. Though you were more of a black blur than anything I could really make out, so that I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me too much.” He leaned in closer. “And I can’t really have you stick to PBR, not if you’re gonna swing by my place tonight like I know you want to. Doesn’t a Fuel Cafe sound a bit better?”

Mark had never tried one, but he nodded eagerly anyway. It was much more bitter than he was used to, but it was kinda nice, all things considered.

“You a student? And are you from here originally? I don’t think I’ve seen you around town, and I know I’d remember someone like you.” The words were vague but flattering enough that Mark kept on blushing.

“I’m a senior, actually. It’s my last semester. I’m studying chemistry, so hopefully I can get a job at one of the labs around here,” Mark said with a shrug. His plans for post-graduation had never really come together. “And I’m not from here, but I am from Lancaster, so not that far away.”

“I remember my last semester…didn’t get my diploma, to be honest, because I started working here and didn’t really want to become a lawy—” An older beaver from the end of the bar called out to Pub, demanding another Coors. “Fuck off, Rick, I’m getting my dick wet,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly pouring him another beer. “What was I saying again? Yeah, I dropped out because I made enough money here to make a decent living, and I was trying to figure myself out, and well…I guess I’m still kinda figuring myself out.” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly as he did this, his veneer of dominance shattering a little bit as he did so.

It was honestly nice that they didn’t start with any kinky talk, not that they could have managed much of anything in a public setting like this. They shared a hamburger with fries and chatted their way through all sorts of subjects, from movies they liked to books they’d read to games they played. Mark liked Pub way more than he thought he would, and they both bonded over their mutual love of Star Wars and Star Trek and all things nerdy. It put the panther at ease, that Pub wasn’t this unapproachable sex god or a creepy weirdo. He could imagine hitting on the tiger normally, which made the slow decision he made to ask Pub if they could go back to that duplex all the easier to make. Didn’t he just want to talk about all the kinky shit they could get up to if Pub could really shrink him? All the fun things they could do with James, all the cute little things they could do together if they just let their inhibitions drop.

Luckily for them both, Pub wasn’t working a closer that night. As 10 o’clock approached, Mark, more than a little inebriated after a night full of drinking, asked a question he never would have managed sober. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

It was Pub’s turn to act all embarrassed. “I was actually working up the courage to ask you that…I’d love to show you around, Mark.” He was so sweet, and when he spun Mark around by the shoulder and gave him a kiss on the lips, the panther couldn’t help but smile at all the different wonderful ways this night could end. Pub insisted on driving, and since he was dead sober and the lightweight panther was decidedly not, Mark didn’t argue. “The power locks don’t work,” Pub explained as he opened the driver’s side door of the Oldsmobile before reaching over and unlocking the passenger-side door.

“Thanks for the ride, I d-dunno if I could make it all the way home r-right now,” Mark’s stuttering more a function of his drunkenness than his nerves at this point. “Oh, do I get to meet James tonight?” Mark asked playfully, and the tiger responded with a hearty chuckle.

“I would love to show him to you if he were real,” and in spite of the fact that Mark knew that James wasn’t real, actually having Pub admit as much made him more than a little sad. It broke kayfabe, and even though he was somewhat relieved to have the carefully constructed illusion shattered…there was still that part of him that wanted it to be true.

“Aww, I was kinda hoping you’d actually found a way to, I dunno…actually make that possible, somehow,” the panther admitted shyly.

The tiger gave him a mischievous grin in affirmation. “I bet you’d have some real fun with a little guy like that, and I know I’d love to fuck both of you. Provided you’d be up for that,” he added, hastily. This was something that Mark really liked about Pub, the way that he seemed to take a genuine interest in what the panther thought and was feeling…as well as all the attention the bartender had heaped on him, often to the detriment of the other patrons. He was somehow much more charming in real life than in fiction.

“It’s alright, I’m sure there are other ways we can have fun.”

Mark had been too harried the last time he was at Pub’s duplex to actually take in the sight of it. Even at night Mark could tell it was a bit of a dump, though not one without its dilapidated charms. “Watch that step,” Pub managed to blurt out just as Mark put his full weight on the step in question, causing the wood to bend and the panther to trip. Agile and (probably more importantly) sober, the tiger sprang into action, wrapping an arm around the panther as he fell and pulling him close into a tight embrace.

“Oh gosh…” Mark guffawed as he snuggled into the tiger’s chub, hidden under that bright red t-shirt.

“Easy there, panther boy…” he trailed off and gave Mark another kiss before continuing. “Sorry, that step has been out for years and the landlord still hasn’t gotten around to fixing it.”

Mark wished he could stay in the tiger’s arms forever, but he didn’t make a fuss when the tiger let go and headed towards the front door. The interior matched the exterior, ratty couch that was easily ten years old, bookshelf that was missing a chunk from one of the shelves, taped up posters of bands the panther didn’t know that were more than a little torn, he thought he could spy a large pile of unwashed dishes in the kitchen sink, there were still piles of clothes scattered on the floor and some spots in the carpet that Mark couldn’t help but eye with suspicion. “I keep meaning to find a new place, but the rent here is so cheap and the landlord mostly stays out of my business. Probably still thinks I’m straight,” Pub chuckled, clearly used to the reaction he could read on Mark’s face. He gestured for the panther to take a seat on the couch before heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home! I’m grabbing a beer, you want one too?” He shouted as Mark could hear what he assumed was the refrigerator door open.

“I’ll stick to w-water for now,” Mark replied, and he heard a cabinet open and the faucet turn on soon afterwards.

The living room wasn’t exactly tidy, but it wasn’t a wreck either. In the dim yellow light of the floor lamp, Mark could even make out some of the titles on the bookshelf opposite him: Gulliver’s Travels, Fantastic Voyage, and something titled Giants in Myth: A Comparative Treatise. “Everything you’d probably expect from a weirdo like me. My dad gave me that copy of Gulliver’s Travels when I was eight or nine,” Pub said as he walked back in, the ice in the water glass clinking all the way. “Probably why I’m so screwed up with all this giant stuff,” he chuckled once more, and Mark could only nod awkwardly along.

Pub took a seat on the couch next to Mark, but didn’t make any other moves on the panther. “I didn’t think you’d come, honestly. Especially after you didn’t show up last week,” Pub continued after an awkward pause made it clear that Mark didn’t know what he could add.

“Sorry…” Mark said with a guilty expression.

“Don’t be. You’re here now, and that’s what matters. Besides, I leaned way too hard into that whole ‘I can shrink people’ bit, must have come off like I was crazy.”

“No, you didn’t,” Mark lied. “If anything, it was kinda endearing.” Well, at least that was true.

Pub took a nice long drink from his beer before offering it to Mark. “You don’t have to drink a full one, but this stuff is brewed by Trappist monks. You’ve gotta at least manage a swig.”

Mark definitely did not feel up for taking any more alcohol into his system, but he grabbed the beer from Pub anyway and took a swig. It tasted a little grainy and very bitter, the kind of taste that he knew he should like even though he very much did not. “It’s great….but really, Pub, I think I had one too many at Winston’s.”

Pub took a hearty swig of his own. “I haven’t been totally truthful with you, Mark, and I hope you understand. James…well, the story was fake, but he was real.”

Mark’s expression shifted briefly to something hurt and confused, but ended up more bemused by the time he managed to get out an “Oh?”

“Well, I mean…not all of the story is…fuck, why did you have to be so perfect? If I didn’t know you were into this shit I wouldn’t even be talking about it. Never even mentioned it to James before I shrank him…”

Mark was now just confused. “You…Pub, what are you talking about?”

“Please don’t freak out, that’s what ended up happening with James and I really don’t want that again,” Pub asked, his expression heavy as Mark started to dwindle before his eyes. “I held it in as long as I could, Mark, I swear, but you are such an attractive prize. I almost accidentally did it at the bar.”

“What’s happening?” the panther asked, his confusion rapidly turning into paranoia as he felt himself grow light headed and his body…contract, somehow. His clothes grew heavy and loose, so much looser than they should have been. It reminded him of when he was a kid and he used to try to walk around in his dad’s shoes or wear his shirts, the clothes dangling uselessly off his body. “Oh god, you…you’re really doing it.” The realization sobered Mark up, at least as much as he could manage. “You can…make people smaller…”

Pub was nothing like he’d been in the story. “Y-yeah, and to be honest James wasn’t the first person I shrank, either. I used to do it with friends when I was younger. We’d do stuff like play hide and seek. James, though, James I shrank because I didn’t want him to be my boyfriend. I wanted him to be my pet.” With each word, Mark could feel himself getting smaller and smaller, his clothes looser and looser on his body until he slipped inside his own shirt. He tried to untangle himself from the mass of large clothes in vain. “He was just as cute when he struggled with his clothes…don’t worry, soon you’ll be little enough to slip through your shirt collar.”

Mark’s legs retracted up through the thighs of his jeans, leaving the mass of denim draped across the couch, tucked into his now empty shoes and socks down below. He finally managed to get his head back out of his shirt collar, and found himself greeted with the mischievous grin of his erstwhile date. “H-how?” was all Mark could manage, slinking back against the back of the couch instinctively. He wanted to be as far away from the now-gigantic tiger as possible.

Pub was not having it. He reached down with his right paw, wrapping his soft fingers around the terrified, naked little panther. The view changed rapidly, deliriously fast, but Mark could still make out Pub’s bare torso speeding by, a mix of orange and yellowish fur with black stripes, more mountain than tiger at his current scale. “I can’t really explain it,” he said as he lifted the panther up to his face. “It’s just something that happens if I think about things the right way.”

“If you d-did shrink J-James…where is h-he?” Mark asked, voice now trembling with fear as much as alcohol.

Pub sighed, but then that playful grin quickly returned to his face with a slightly malevolent mien. “Oh him? He couldn’t cut it. Turns out that cute boyfriends don’t always make good pets! So I just ate him,” Pub licked his lips obscenely as he held the panther close enough that he could smell the hamburger on Pub’s breath. Mark was beyond terrified, physically shaking in fear…but he was also insanely horny, and his body betrayed him. Without skipping a beat, Pub’s tongue lapped out and started licking the panther’s erection, puckering his lips afterwards like he was tasting a fine wine. “My my my, you taste delicious when you’re scared for your own life! You’re perfect, Mark…” Pub sighed once more, staring down at the the svelte panther with loving eyes. “I’m not a monster. James had a nervous breakdown when I shrank him and bolted the moment I returned him to normal. Didn’t even take his jeans with him,” Pub chuckled drily.

A moment of silence passed between them before Pub continued. “I can tell by your erection that you’re really into this, Mark. I’m sure you’re terrified as fuck too, worried that I’m actually going to eat you or something, but c’mon, little guy…you love me.” He wobbled his gut playfully with his free paw, Mark unable to stop staring at the gyrating sight before him.

“N-no…you’ve gotta make me n-normal size again,” Mark insisted, but his pleading was weak and half-willed. There was definitely a part of him that wanted to be big again and run away from this ridiculous situation, and that part was logical and in control, but it was quickly overcome by the lust he felt for the gigantic tiger, his body, his massive form towering over him, especially with the musk that filled the air, all the little details that combined to make this experience so weirdly magical and mesmerizing.

The tiger was undeterred. “You know, I don’t think I really have to do anything, Mark. I’m not really the type to force myself on others, that’s true…but you’re a bad liar, and you should know better than to pretend you don’t like this when I can see your cock slap against your abs every time you so much as glance at my stomach. You aren’t like James at all…you love this shit, and you want to see where this is going. Have you been fantasizing about me giving you a blowjob at this size?” Pub finished with a dramatic swipe, pulling the panther right up to his face. “That lick wasn’t nearly enough,” he intoned breathily before eagerly lapping at the little panther’s erection, tasting each and over little drop of precum that came spilling out with each and every tender, massive lick.

Mark couldn’t pretend any longer. He loved every second of this, he loved being the tiger’s little pet and he loved that he could do whatever he wanted with the shrunken cat…but chose to give him the biggest blowjob of his life, so weirdly gentle and playful if more than a little forceful. “F-fuck…” was all he could manage before he gave in and felt himself get closer and closer and closer to release, sending line after line of cum onto the tiger’s sandpapery tongue. Pub wasn’t that surprised at how wonderful it tasted, given how much he loved the taste of Mark’s pre…but his cum was even better, and the tiger relished being able to lap down every single last drop before letting the panther pant heavily as he felt Mark’s little body collapse into his soft palm.

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you, Pub.’” The tiger nuzzled against the little panther’s heaving chest, smiling when his whiskers and facial fur caused the panther to burst out laughing. “You know, being ticklish isn’t the best quality in someone you wanna shrink. Wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable, little guy,” he added with his by now clearly characteristic sarcasm. “Don’t get too comfortable, though…I’m not making you big again until you’ve gotten me off, too.”

The words barely had enough time to be processed before Mark started to feel himself moving again, this time downwards and much slower than he’d been snatched up. The sight of Pub’s chest and stomach that he was able now to examine in much greater detail, even as he only managed to tilt his head up a little bit to gape at the massive body passing in front of him. He could count the strands of fur, they were so clear to him now…and he was so lost in his own train of thought that he didn’t even notice the cock until the tiger’s musk wafted out and over his body, overpowering his poor shrunken little nose. “I know, I know…you’d thought it’d be bigger,” Pub teased, his voice reverberating through the shrunken cat from on high. “But that should just make your task easier.” The titan thrust his hips, laughing as a few drops of pre splattered Mark’s chest and stained his black fur.

The panther didn’t need more goading to wrap his arms around Pub’s gigantic shaft, grinning as he softly but firmly nuzzled against the cockhead. Fuck, this was exactly as good as he had imagined it would be, even if the tiger was a little rougher around the edges than the panther might have preferred. Hell, probably because he was rougher around the edges than the panther would have preferred. It wasn’t long before his tentative embrace grew tighter and tighter. Mark really put his back into it, knowing full well that Pub wouldn’t be able to get off with some weak movements here and there, not when he wasn’t even as big as the cock. He breathed in the scent, something vaguely cinnamon-y, a little spicy and more than a little rank. It wasn’t unpleasant, in spite of everything. If anything, it was a little intoxicating, being this small, able to just fit inside Pub’s briefs if he felt so inclined. His arms started to rub the shaft up and down, and his legs followed suit shortly thereafter, their motion falling into sync and joined by a few embarrassed licks of the giant’s cockhead.

“Damn, that felt GOOD,” Pub boomed overhead, the tiger almost unable to keep himself from wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few helpful pumps. “K-keep that up,” he insisted, his voice losing a bit of that domineering tone in the process.

Mark wasn’t even paying attention to the words the tiger said, just to the way his cock grew harder and harder the more he played with it. He started to cling to it, pulling himself up when the cock started to spasm. With a lot of effort, Mark even managed to hang off the cock’s side, and then work his way up to actually mounting the thing, straddling it like a horse as he nuzzled his head into Pub’s gut. Almost seductively, Pub’s eyes watching his every move, the panther splayed down the giant’s cock, running his paws slowly and sensually down the erection that he’d managed to get hard enough that the teasing almost hurt. “You like this, big boy?” Mark asked, with a giggle, his body now wrapped almost playfully around the topside of Pub’s reddened cock. He didn’t wait for an answer before he started to squeeze once more, slowly and deliberately, almost like he was milking the massive endowment. “There there,” he said breathily, fully embodying the role he’d decided to play. “You’re so close…” Pub couldn’t hear the words but he could feel the panther’s little breaths against his cock and it was driving him mad. He was so close. He wasn’t thinking with his head anymore, he just wrapped his right paw around Mark, pinning him to his shaft, the panther’s mild protest of “H-hey,” not nearly enough to stop the giant from rubbing Mark rapidly up and down his shaft, up and down and up and down and…line after line of his own cum started to spurt out after only four or five of his own pumps, the tiger’s breathing even harder than Mark’s as he basked in the glow and then afterglow of the orgasm.

“I–fuck, I never got anything like that from James,” Pub admitted as he plopped down on the couch, the panther wobbling slightly as he basted in the tiger’s cum, stuck fast to his shaft. “I…umm…I hope you liked it too,” he shyly admitted, half-questioningly, losing his veneer of domination the moment he had reached orgasm. It was one thing to play the “dominating giant” and quite another to actually be one. He unpinned the panther from his cock and deposited him back in his left paw so he could actually manage a response.

“I…suppose I did…” the panther admitted, rather embarrassed himself that he had gotten as into it as he had.

Without warning, the tiger pressed the panther to his chest. Mark was able to hear Pub’s heart beat, each palpitation and murmur magnified to infeline scale. Pub held the panther there for a lot longer than Mark thought he would, neither saying a word, not wanting to break the silence or the moment. “You know, I could probably argue that you didn’t really get me off, so I don’t have to make you big again,” Pub said as he started to restore Mark’s size. “That would be missing the point, though.” The panther grew inch by inch, rapidly growing back to his former stature, his slender form still held close to the tiger’s own ample frame. “Well, big guy…” Pub chuckled a little before continuing, “Wanna take a shower? You can leave afterwards. I’ll even make sure you take your pants.”

The panther silently nuzzled into his tiger’s chest. Even at this size, he felt positively dwarfed by the chubby tiger. A wry smile creeped onto his face as he fumbled through a response. “I’ll t-take a shower with you, P-Pub…but only if I get to be the soap.”