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Gatito was walking through a jungle, stealthily slinking through the undergrowth and dense vegetation thanks to his four sleek, powerful, black and silver prosthetic limbs. The feral tiger was a predator on the hunt, stalking his elusive prey...he could hear birds singing among the trees high above him...

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!"

Energetic, frantic huffing and moaning mixed with the sound of birdsong, waking the tiger from his dream of prowling through the tropical jungle.

Gatito opened his eyes--he was lying on his side, and even though it was only morning, the sun had already begun to warm the pad beneath him. He looked down...and flinched in surprise when he saw a blue tiger staring right back at him...but he chuffed and settled when he realized it was just his reflection. He had fallen asleep by the swimming pool last night and woken up looking at himself in the water of the azure-tiled pool.

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!"

"Fuck yeah! Take it, slut! Oh fuck! Yes!"

Distracted, Gatito looked up--on the other side of the pool, one of the cushioned recliners was currently occupied by a tall, muscled Clydesdale. The huge horse was completely naked and in the middle of slamming a significantly smaller, younger, pudgy red fox down on his lap, effortlessly stuffing the massive, girthy pole of his erection into the vulpine's ass. The fox's cock and balls bounced wildly with the rapid up-down-up-down of the horse's thrusts--it was as if the Clydesdale was using the fox as a fleshlight. The fox's red-furred stomach visibly bulged with the horse cock that penetrated him, and Gatito saw that on the fox's upper thighs, a blue barcode and a number 43 had been imprinted on his fur; the tiger realized that the horse was fucking one of the many, many synthetic fox clones that serviced his master's private island retreat.

The horse snorted and grunted, gritting his teeth in pleasure; his biceps flexed with the strain of pulling the fox up to just below the flare of his blunt glans before violently hurling 43 down onto his lap again; his cock disappeared into the fox again and again, and 43 kept crying out in ecstasy as he took the Clydesdale balls deep...and the equine's colt-makers were huge and throbbing...

Gatito hungrily licked his chops at the sight. He ached for the horse to use him instead of the fox--the tiger could just imagine his insides spreading around the Clydesdale's gigantic battering ram textured with prominent veins, the forceful slapping of the horse's balls up against the soft, smooth patch where his own testicles had once been, the explosive jolts of pleasure from the man pounding his prostate, and the powerful spasms of the horse's cock as it pumped him full of potent seed, breeding him.

But Gatito knew it wasn't his place to interrupt his master's guests when they were busy with the resort's staff--as a good, obedient pet, Gatito knew he was supposed to wait for a guest to use him if they wanted him. He was to be available for service at all times, day or night, as easily accessible as one of the synthetic foxes who were really nothing more than animated bio-gel molded into walking, talking playthings for his master's guests.

If someone wanted the tiger's services, they could easily summon him or just grab him, and he would happily accept whatever treatment was visited upon him--Gatito knew that making his master's guests happy would make his master happy, and Gatito wanted more than anything to make his master happy. That was why he always obeyed his master's orders without hesitation; that was why he eagerly raised his tail for his master's favored pet, Rio, whenever the feral boerboel was in the mood to fuck him; that was why he happily allowed his master's guests to breed him, why he enthusiastically licked their feet, sucked their cocks, or ate them out, why he let them explore and play with his body and his modifications however they saw fit; and that was why he now contented himself with watching on from across the pool as the horse on the recliner brutally fucked the fox.

"Oooh, yeah, fucking take it, you little slut!" the Clydesdale snarled.

"Ha-harder, sir! Please!" 43 begged, gasping for air.

"Rrmmff! Oh fuck, that's a good bitch!"

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

The fox's rump smacked loudly and solidly against the horse's thighs, and the two of them kept at it, the horse thrusting up into the fox and the fox helplessly taking every inch of horse meat he was forcibly given.

Gatito chuffed to himself before he looked back down at the pool, contemplating and admiring his reflection in the water.

He wore a clear, Plexiglass visor over his eyes--at the moment, it displayed his basic vital signs and a small compass oriented to his master's location. Gatito had grown so used to seeing through the visor that he barely noticed it at all, except when his master's commands were displayed on it and transmitted directly to the neural receivers bolted into his temples.

A thick, silver bullring piercing hung from his septum, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice; Gatito's master had already taken advantage of that particular feature many times, using the bullring to roughly lead the tiger around by the nose and demonstrate his power over the feline.

The septum piercing was part of a set of body jewelry that Gatito wore, which included the silver closure rings that hung from his nipples and the chain that connected them, as well as the girthy ring pierced through his guiche and the hook-shaped barbell pierced through his sheath--Gatito had lost count of how many times his master (and his master's guests) had tugged on those piercings to tease him. Gatito's master seemed to take a special delight in hooking a leash to his guiche and sheath piercings to keep him nearby or parade his pet around the island resort. The crowning piece of metal on Gatito's body, however, was the implanted chastity cage that had been bolted into his sheath; 18 stainless steel, dome-shaped boltheads peeked out among the white fur of the tiger's sheath, all of them spearing through the skin of his sensitive pocket and secured in the unforgiving, solid metal walls of the chastity cage within. In all the time that Gatito had belonged to his master, he had never once had his cage removed.

"Maybe if you're good enough, one day I might give you a little freedom...I'd love to play with the subincision you have in that little kitten dick of yours," his master had teased while idly fondling the neutered tiger's sheath--the pocket of fur and skin rolled easily between his thick fingers, while his palm grazed over the flat patch where Gatito's nuts had once been. "But we're a long way away from that."

Gatito didn't miss having his cock free. True, he would have loved having his master's hand or lips around his shaft, teasing the smooth, sensitive skin of his member (and he couldn't even remember that there had once been barbs on his cock that had been surgically removed so long ago). But did he want to be free? No, not if his master wanted him to stay caged. Nor did he miss having his balls, for that matter--he knew that he had once been capable of breeding and spreading his seed, but Gatito was secure in the fact that his master knew what was good for him, and that included having his testicles removed. He was truly happy just to be a perfectly devoted and subservient pet for his master. If that meant being neutered and being locked in indefinite chastity--to the point of practically being nullified--then so be it. That was the way he was supposed to be.

Still looking at himself in the pool's water, Gatito's eyes fell to the thick, black band of metal that encircled his neck, just above his clavicle. From the ring on the front of the collar hung the tag that simply read "Gatito"--the name his master had given him. What Gatito couldn't see in his reflection, though, was the component of the control collar implanted in the flesh and muscle of his throat: A chain of nanobots was coiled around his trachea, esophagus, and vocal cords. This particular modification could enable his master to remotely choke him and cut off his air supply, as well as open his gullet wide to accept anything and everything that was shoved into his mouth--his master had used that feature to force Gatito to swallow Rio's knot on more than one occasion. Currently, the control collar's nanobots were constricted around his vocal cords, preventing the tiger from speaking or doing anything more than making animalistic grunts, moans, growls, whines, yowls, and chuffs. If Gatito's master decided that he deserved speaking privileges, then he would send a signal to the tiger's visor to direct the chain of nanobots to relax and grant him the power of speech...but Gatito knew that a good pet didn't talk. A good pet listened to and obeyed his master.

Content with what he saw reflected in the water before him, Gatito pushed himself to his feet; he rose up on his silver and black prosthetic limbs that granted him the appearance and mobility of a feral tiger. If his brain hadn't been reprogrammed and his memory hadn't been overwritten, Gatito would have remembered that he used to walk on two legs like a normal person. He would have remembered that he wasn't a pet before--he would have remembered that his original arms and legs had been amputated without his consent and replaced with these mechanical prosthetics. If his original personality hadn't been wiped, the tiger would have despaired at the fact that he'd been castrated against his will and practically stripped of his manhood, and he would have been outraged at being reduced to a pet, forced to walk around on all fours and service his master.

But Gatito didn't remember any of that. He wasn't even aware that he used to have a different name--he had no use for any other name. To the tiger, he simply had always been quadrupedal, always been a pet who did as he was told, and had never deserved to have his balls in the first place...he had always been Gatito, a good boy for his master.

Gatito yawned and stretched his back and legs, rolling his hips back and pushing his butt up into the air while he extended his front legs as far forward as he could...

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!"

"Fuck yeah...got me close, foxy...where do you want it?"

"Cum...cum in me sir! Please!"

The horse was still fucking the fox as Gatito stood up again. The tiger looked around, listening to the sound of vigorous sex as he surveyed his surroundings and contemplated what to do next now that he was awake. He could seek out his master for some pets and affection...or roam around the island and find a nice place to sun himself while waiting for someone to use him...or he could go to the kitchen where he knew breakfast would be waiting for him...although now that he thought about it, Gatito realized that he first needed to answer the call of nature.

The tiger turned from the pool and slowly padded across the patio towards the large, opulent cabana at the edge of the deck. As he walked, Gatito left behind a thin trail of slimy precum on the concrete. While the tiger's member was securely locked away (and always straining against the metal restraint bolted into his sheath), his chastity cage's urethral exit tube allowed his precum to constantly leak out of him, as if he were a broken faucet. It was all thanks to the permanent prostate stimulants that Gatito had been given before his master had taken possession of him; the tiger's overly-sensitive gland was in a perpetual state of arousal and producing precum continuously, to the point that clear, sticky fluid dribbled out of him at all hours of the day. There had been days when Gatito's master had simply fingered the tiger, milking his prostate for fun and filling bowls with his pet's precum, just to see how much he could produce, before ordering Gatito to lap it all up.

Still trailing thin, viscous threads and strings of precum behind him, Gatito headed for his master's exclusive cabana, making a beeline for the bowl that he needed to fill now. As Gatito approached, he saw that his black rubber bowl--stamped with his name--was just where it was supposed to be: next to his master's large recliner. His master always seemed to enjoy watching Gatito using his bowl, and with every step closer to it, Gatito became more desperate to empty his bladder; it was as if he had been conditioned to feel a stronger urge to urinate upon seeing the black rubber basin. He padded over to it and got into position, standing above his bowl and lifting one leg like he had been trained to do. The tiger took a breath...and relaxed.

The tiger felt the release of pressure and the satisfying rush of his bladder starting to empty, and hot piss streamed from his chastity cage's urethral tube; his urine splattered into the bowl, pooling in the bottom and splashing as it began to fill the black rubber basin. Gatito sighed blissfully, glad to relieve himself--he just wished his master were here to see how he was being a good pet and urinating where he was supposed to.

Like water issuing from a fountain spigot, more translucent, pale yellow piss flowed from the tiger's urethral tube and into the bowl. It frothed and bubbled as more piss splattered and splashed on itself, and small droplets leapt up from the cascade of piss that arced downward into the rising water level. Gatito could smell the faint acrid scent of his urine...and his salivary glands began to kick into high gear.

He was so thirsty.

But the tiger continued pissing, keeping his muscles relaxed and letting gravity do the work of emptying his bladder. As he relieved himself, Gatito gazed out over the tropical island that lay before him and the ocean beyond the beach. Lush trees and plants filled out the landscape that surrounded the main resort building and the private bungalows nestled in the jungle; Gatito could see part of the paved path that guests could walk on or travel via golf cart to get around the island; the beach's white sand looked soft and warm under the sun, and the clear, blue water around the small atoll extended for miles into the distance. This was Sukranu Oasis, a private island paradise that his master owned and operated. It was a secluded spit of land for the wealthy and influential to retreat to when they wanted to indulge in their more depraved pursuits and pleasures of the flesh, hence the synthetic fox clones that Gatito's master provided for guests to use and abuse to their heart's content.

His master had brought him here eight weeks ago for an extended holiday; in the six months before coming to Sukranu Oasis, Gatito had spent the majority of his time at his master's home--a mansion itself--being used by either Rio or, if he was lucky, his master.

Rio had gotten into the habit of breeding Gatito at least three times a day, brutally humping the tiger and knotting him hard before dumping a fresh load of boerboel cum in him. Gatito had learned early on that Rio, as the favored pet, would always be dominant over him, and the tiger happily settled into his place as the boerboel's default, submissive breeding mount; whenever the huge dog would look at him with that particularly hungry glint in his eyes, Gatito would raise his rear for Rio, and it never took long for the canine to lock his paws around the feline's hips and plunge his inflated, bulging knot into Gatito's gaping hole.

As for his master, he seemed to particularly enjoy painting Gatito's face with his own seed--the tiger would give his master long, slow, indulgent blowjobs, swallowing his cock and slurping on his balls before the man would stroke himself to a messy finish all over Gatito's snout, cheeks, visor, and muzzle. Other times, Gatito's master would use Rio's seed as lube and fuck the tiger's sloppy, loosened hole before cumming in him as well, adding his own fat wad to the dog's creamy load that filled Gatito's guts. Gatito always loved whenever his master used him this way; in the tiger's mind, it was a privilege, an honor of the highest degree, to be bred by his master and receive the gift of his cum.

Gatito had had his piercings tugged on, his chastity cage teased, and his hole abused; his master had pissed on him and into his open mouth, and Rio had marked him as his territory more than once; the tiger had been made to lick his master's feet, had eaten his master's ass, and provided his own rubberized paw pads for his master to use in a semblance of a footjob; Gatito had been hooked up to electrodes and shocked, he'd had his limbs removed, and he'd been bound and restrained in more ways than he could recall; and his master had roughly fisted him so many times that, by now, Gatito had a permanent rosebud ready to push out.

Gatito's master had also introduced his new pet to many of his friends--the tiger had been passed around at numerous orgies, so much so that his orange, white, and black-striped fur became matted and thick with cum. His master's friends had bred him eagerly, pounding his prostate and making his caged and throbbing cock leak precum by the pint; they had used him as a communal urinal, taking turns pissing all over him and ensuring he knew his place, that he was so far beneath them in status that all he was good for was being an open hole for them to fill...

And his master's guests had taken further advantage of him being an open hole ever since Gatito first arrived at Sukranu Oasis. On his first day on the island, following a tour of the resort's facilities--from the main building with its elegant lobby and dining room to the general dungeon space and Red Room where guests could indulge in their more twisted and taboo kinks and fetishes--Gatito's master had turned him loose, and the tiger had been grabbed immediately by two of the guests, a pair of exceptionally horny boars who had quickly created a spitroast with Gatito in the middle. They had stuffed him from both ends, roughly fucking his ass and throat; their cocks had rapidly pistoned in and out of him, and Gatito had huffed and grunted hungrily, desperate for more...until both boars came in unison, firing spurts of cum into his guts and down his gullet. Gatito had obediently accepted what he was given, and from there, more guests had used the tiger practically nonstop to satiate their carnal desires. Scores of men sat on his face and backed their asses onto his muzzle for him to eat them out; others grabbed him and bred him before setting him free to lap up splatters of cum; he sucked dick after dick and sucked on too many balls to count in between marathon sessions of licking and worshiping all the feet that were pressed into his face; other guests delighted in pushing sounding rods into the tube in his chastity cage, stretching his urethra wide and sliding all the way through his prostate and into his bladder; he'd been fisted and had his guts invaded by dozens of toys, hands, cocks, and tongues before getting bred again and again and again, every guest making him messier and messier...

There was a certain peace now, though, as Gatito relieved himself in his bowl next to his master's recliner and surveyed the island from his vantage point. The sun was rising in a mostly clear sky, a gentle breeze ruffled his fur and the trees, and over the splattering and splashing of his own pissing, he could hear the crash of the ocean surf and the sounds of other resort guests getting up and about with more of the fox clones by the pool.

Soon, though, Gatito's flow of urine slowed to a stop, and the tiger lowered his leg. He circled around to face away from the ocean now, surveying the pool for a moment--an alligator was sitting with his legs in the water and getting his dick sucked by one of the foxes, number 59. Fox 76 had been bent over a table while a leopard was hilting himself in the vulpine's ass, and a dingo and numbers 33 and 34 were engaged in a three-way makeout session on another one of the recliners--a lone kangaroo, however, was skinny dipping in the pool, doing laps for his morning swim.

All in all, it seemed the guests who were out for the morning were enjoying themselves, and Gatito contented himself with listening to their grunts and moans of pleasure as he lowered his face to his now-full bowl of piss...and began to lap up the warm waste water he had just poured into it. His mostly clear urine smelled faintly of ammonia and tasted like slightly salty popcorn, but to Gatito, it was the most refreshing drink in the world. He lapped up mouthful after mouthful like a housecat lapping up a saucer of milk, guzzling his piss and savoring the flavor. He swallowed greedily, slaking his thirst, but he wanted more...

"Ungh! Ungh! Fuck! Hooo shiiiit..."

"Haaaaa...more! More!"

"Mmm, you like that dick, don't you, slut? Damn, you're good with your tongue...just a natural little cocksucker, huh?"

"Unf...oh fuck, man, I'm getting close..."

More moans, blissful sighs, and enthusiastic grunts emanated from the pool area as Gatito continued dutifully and happily lapping up his bowl of piss. His whole focus was trained on the bowl he was slowly emptying, and the water level steadily lowered as he drank. His master had trained him well; from the very beginning, a rule of Gatito's life had been that if he needed to empty his bladder, he was to do it in a way that ensured he could give himself a drink while he was at it.

"I don't want you to come to me thirsty when you have a perfectly suitable drink available to you already," his master had told him.

The tiger had taken to lapping up his own urine as if he had been born doing it; in fact, Gatito almost looked forward to pissing because he knew it would please his master so much that he was following such an important rule.

Not a single drop of piss remained in his bowl by the time Gatito was done, and the tiger dragged his tongue over the hard black rubber to ensure he'd gotten every lingering vestige of his urine. Licking his lips and whiskers, he glanced back up at the pool to see how the scene had evolved while he had been drinking. The Clydesdale he had first witnessed fucking 43 had finished and the fox was giving his flagging cock a spitshine while the horse himself had begun sucking off the kangaroo who had exited the pool; an orca was busily munching away on 97's ass like a sandwich while the fox was orally servicing an elk; the alligator sitting with his legs in the pool was stroking himself, holding 59 back in order to give the fox a facial; an otter was in the middle of riding two foxes, 88 and 21, at the same time for a double penetration; the leopard who had been fucking fox 76 was still going at it, humping the vulpine like a beast in rut; and the dingo with 33 and 34 had formed a spitroast of their own with the dingo fucking 33 and 34 using his fellow clone's muzzle.

All in all, it seemed the communal round of morning sex was in full swing...yet nobody appeared to need Gatito at the moment.

The tiger's prostate throbbed and more thin dribbles of precum leaked from his full sheath; his cock pushed against the solid metal of his chastity cage, and Gatito licked his lips again, hungry now for use...but if nobody needed him here, perhaps he would find someone to use him elsewhere on the island...and maybe a good place to start would be with his master. At the very least, he could be of service to Rio--the dog barely left his master's side and would likely be out and about on a walk with him this morning.

Gatito slinked away from the pool, taking one of the paths that led into the jungle vegetation. He followed the digital compass on his visor that was oriented to his master's location, and it began to pulse faster as he started closing the distance between himself and the man who owned him.

The tiger walked along, pushing past some of the overgrown plants and listening out for anyone who might call his name; along the way, he passed a fossa who was ambling naked from his villa to the pool...a wolf fucking a fox under a tree off the path...and a panther lazily luxuriating on the porch of his own villa while getting eaten out by another fox.

Gatito kept going, until he reached the beach, where, 50 feet away from the boardwalk, he saw his master walking with Rio and a tall, muscular bull. The tiger padded across the sand, making his way to the trio who were strolling by the rolling waves.

"Ah, there's my Gatito!"

The tiger's heart swelled with pride when he heard his master happily call his name as he approached, and he chuffed as he walked over to the bulky rhino who owned him.

Tiago Morales was a burly, beefy specimen of masculinity who stood tall--over six and a half feet--and exerted a commanding presence; Gatito was almost always in awe of his master, from the rhino's dominating aura to the raw physical power that the thickset man commanded by virtue of his size alone. Tiago wore only a pair of thin, pale blue swim trunks that hugged his thighs and crotch tightly, showing off the bulge of his impressive manhood, and Gatito desperately wanted to present his hole for his master to use right then and there...but the tiger kept his urge in check, knowing that if Tiago wanted to use him, then he would have to wait for the rhino's orders.

Rio was as alpha male as a feral boerboel could be--the canine was the physical embodiment of brute strength thanks to his tank-like body covered in a short, light brown and white coat of fur. He sat attentively and obediently by Taigo's side, and Gatito could see that the dog's fat sheath hung heavily between his legs, his hefty balls sitting on the sand while the pointed, fleshy pink tip of Rio's cock poked out of the furred opening.

As for the caramel brown-furred bull walking with Tiago and Rio, Gatito saw that his muscles were more defined than those of his master--this was a man who looked like he spent hours pumping iron, and he wore nothing but an open, short-sleeved button-down shirt that rippled in the breeze. The bovine's member--a thick, semi-flaccid slab of uncut, pink-skinned beef--hung from his groin, over the plump pair of balls between his legs.

Gatito approached Tiago, affectionately rubbing himself against the rhino's leg, and Tiago chuckled and rubbed the top of the tiger's head in return.

"I was wondering where you got to--were you having some fun this morning?" Tiago asked.

Gatito chuffed at his master's fingers scratching and shook his head.

"Really? You haven't been bred yet today?" Tiago asked in mock surprise--unnoticed by Gatito, he winked at the bull who was looking down at the tiger with a sneaky gleam in his eye.

Gatito shook his head again.

"That won't do--my sweet little Gatito needs a dick in him, doesn't he?"

The tiger chuffed and nodded enthusiastically.

Tiago grinned coyly at his pet. "Well, I think I might have just the thing--my friend Jerrick here was just telling me that he needs a good hole to breed this morning," the rhino began, gesturing at the caramel-furred bull who stood next to him. "I was planning on offering Rio for him to use, but now that you're here, I think you'll be perfect for him. What do you say, Jerrick?"

The bull snickered, and he reached down to place a hand on Gatito's head now--the tiger chuffed happily, appreciating Jerrick's broad, strong hand holding him. "Been wanting to get a turn with Gatito for a while now--everybody says he's got a great little ass. Sure you're alright with me breaking it?"

"Be my guest; his ass has been broken many times," Tiago said smoothly as he patted his friend on the shoulder. "Take as long with him as you want, Rio and I will be enjoying the show."

"Heh, perfect...c'mere, boy," Jerrick grunted. He pulled Gatito away from Tiago's side and dragged the tiger a few feet up the beach to get into position.

Gatito eagerly complied, allowing the powerful bull to manhandle him until Jerrick was behind him and they were both facing the ocean...and Tiago and Rio, who were watching them. The tiger lifted his tail as the bull closed in behind him, and Gatito shivered in anticipation when he felt Jerrick's thick fingers teasing his hole.

"Mm, that's a good little tiger ass...nice and loose," Jerrick mused as he pulled and tugged at the loose rim of Gatito's sphincter.

He pushed two fingers into the moist, warm, and gaping orifice, earning a pleased grunt from the tiger, and Gatito pushed back on the bull's digits, getting them deeper into him.

"Ooh, someone's hungry, huh?" Jerrick chuckled, rubbing the hypersensitive spot of Gatito's prostate with his fingertips; a thick thread of precum oozed out of the tiger's chastity cage and dropped to the sand.

Gatito meweled desperately while he arched his back and raised his ass high in reply, showing how much he needed the bull inside of him. Fortunately for him, after a little more teasing, Jerrick withdrew his fingers from the tiger's ass and began sliding the stiff pole of his cock up and down against the opening of Gatito's hole.

"Been aching to do this, just needed to finally get some time with him," Jerrick called to Tiago.

While Jerrick had been teasing the tiger, Gatito had watched Tiago push down his swim trunks, and Rio was currently bathing his master's balls and cock--a girthy, club-like cudgel of a dick--with his tongue, hungrily slobbering and lapping over Tiago's manhood the same way he would have been licking a juicy steak.

"I've been meaning to get his visor set up with a reservation system," Tiago noted, nodding at Gatito. "Then when you've booked him, he'll come straight to you."

"I don't know, he'd probably be--mmf!" Jerrick cut himself off with a grunt as he mounted Gatito, pushing his cock into the tiger's ass before he finished, "Booked solid!"

"That's the idea...unless you think you'd like sneaking off with him more?" Tiago asked while Rio continued licking his cock and balls in a canine semblance of a blowjob.

"Or just--mm--having chance encounters...like this," Jerrick huffed as he hilted himself in Gatoto completely. "Makes it more special, you know?"

The tiger chuffed and his eyes rolled back in pleasure as nine hot inches of stiff, fat, throbbing bull meat slid into him. More precum drizzled from the spout in his sheath thanks to the excess weight pressing on his prostate, and Gatito clenched lightly around Jerrick's cock, wanting to tease the bull with the soft, sensual textures of his inner flesh.

"Oh fuck...you've got his hole trained good," Jerrick groaned, holding onto Gatito's hips for support.

"Heh, you can thank Rio," Tiago chuckled while he proudly rubbed his dog's head--the canine was still obediently licking the rhino's package, now dragging his broad, floppy tongue up the length of Tiago's erection. "He's fucked Gatito the most and taught him practically everything he knows about taking dick."

"Mmm, good boy, Rio!" Jerrick called, amused, before he pulled halfway out of Gatito's guts...and thrust back in.

Gatito moaned as the bull rammed into him...and immediately pulled out before shoving back in. His master's guest began thrusting in and out of him with gusto, skipping past any kind of build-up and ramping up in speed to roughly fuck the tiger on the beach.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

Jerrick's pelvis slammed against Gatito's rear, and the bull's balls swung up to hit against the bottom of the tiger's full sheath. Gatito's hole smoothly expanded and contracted around the girth of Jerrick's thick cock--the bull's arousal penetrated the tiger with ease, spearing into him and spreading Gatito's innards while Jerrick drove himself into the feline again and again.

"Oh fuck...that's what I needed...shit yeah," Jerrick puffed and panted as he used the tiger like a breeding mount.

It was exactly what Gatito needed, too. Even though the tiger had been fucked several times last night, and so many, many times in the past two months since coming to his master's island resort, he had been craving a cock up his ass from the moment he'd awoken that morning, and the bull filled him perfectly. The tiger tilted his head back and moaned animalistically as Jerrick brutally pounded his ass and ground against his prostate; Gatito was blissed out over Jerrick rutting him so forcefully, using him as a toy for getting his rocks off, all while Tiago--even with Rio ardently licking his cock and balls like the good dog he was--was watching from afar, his gaze on on the copulating bull and the tiger.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

Gatito struggled to keep himself stable in the sand from the force of Jerrick's fucking; fortunately, his mechanized legs and rubberized paw pads held firm in the loose sediment. Jerrick was grunting and snorting with every thrust of his cock and every slam of his hips, and the bull held onto Gatito's hips tightly, wildly bucking into him for all he was worth. The bull's whole body rocked back and forth...the tiger tossed his head, lost in lustful delight as he served his purpose...silky, slimy precum flowed onto the sand...flesh penetrated flesh, and the heat between the bull and the tiger grew under the rising sun.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck, that hole's gooooood," Jerrick moaned lewdly as Gatito clenched around him, milking his cock. It didn't take long, amid his huffing and puffing, for the bull to eventually grunt, "I'm...I'm close...oh fuck, I'm close! Uunngh...gonna fill you up, boy!"

Gatito pushed back against Jerrick in time with the bull's forward thrusts, clenching around him again and again to tease the man further, until...

"Hngh! Hngh! HNNNNNNGHHHH!" Jerrick bellowed as he buried his cock in Gatito's ass; his member spasmed and fired his seed in thick, strong pulses, pumping it deep into the tiger.

Jerrick moaned and trembled as he came hard, and Gatito chuffed happily, pleased to have earned his first load of the day. The tiger could feel every warm spurt of seed flooding his guts, and his own caged cock was still dribbling and leaking precum from his throbbing prostate. Gatito held still, catching his breath and waiting for the shuddering bull to ride through his climax...until Jerrick, still panting, recovered enough strength to sloppily pull out of him. The tiger clenched his loosened hole, keeping as much of Jerrick's cum inside him as he could, while the exhausted bull staggered away towards Tiago.

"Fuck...I don't know how you get anything done, I'd be fucking him all day if I were you," Jerrick quipped tiredly as he approached Tiago.

"Heh, funny thing is, Rio usually hogs him when we're at home," Tiago mused as his dog continued orally servicing him. Gatito could see the sly twinkle in his master's eye as Tiago went on, "But I did get enough time with him to teach him a trick if you want to see it."

Jerrick nodded. "Sure."

"Gatito! Clean up!" Tiago ordered.

Gatito obeyed immediately--it was one of his favorite tricks to perform for his master. He settled onto his side on the sand and flexibly curled in on himself, until his chin touched the flat, smooth patch beneath his sheath. Nuzzled up to his own anus, Gatito relaxed his sphincter. Gooey, creamy bull cum began to leak out, and the tiger started licking, effectively felching Jerrick's load out of himself. Tangy, musky, tasty jizz dribbled out of his ass and onto the soft pad of his tongue, and Gatito hungrily lapped up every ropey, sticky drop.

"Oh damn, now that's a good trick," Jerrick said in awe.

"Heh, it's a good way to keep him clean if you don't want to use someone else's sloppy seconds," Tiago noted.

As Gatito continued eating himself out and lapping up Jerrick's load, he noticed in the distance that there were other guests walking on the beach, and they were making an obvious beeline for him, clearly wanting a turn with the tiger, too. He grinned to himself while he kept cleaning the bull's load out of his ass--this truly was the perfect life for a pet like him.