This is a (probably) one-shot story about a Milodan Captain Steele who really hasn't had a fun time, and how he met a relatively nice Naleen to pop his cherry for him. Warnings: Includes daddy issues, offscreen death, offscreen vore, major character death, threats of violence, clothing destruction, anal, frottage, size difference, and hot gay action. --- Cold Steele hated his life just a little. Most people would say he had little reason to do so, and from their perspective, they would be justified. Cold had spent his formative years well provided for in all aspects except emotional support, but then whose parents actually gave emotional support to their kids anymore. He'd been sent to good schools, had the best health care money could buy, and he was reasonably expected to inherit a substantial amount of money once his dad finally kicked the bucket. The latest genetic treatments had given him a great bod, with his parents able to control everything from his dick size, physical sex, to his personality. By their tampering, he was well-adjusted, friendly, and generous. But that was the problem -- by their tampering. He'd pondered about what he could be if he had been allowed to be like other kids -- to be in situations where he could make mistakes and not have a medical tech screamed at for his lack of perfection, where he could decide his life's path for himself. But he hadn't been, and he didn't have control of his life. He'd known that when he stepped into his dad's old spaceship to start on an adventure to prove his father hadn't wasted money on an inadequate heir while his cousin raced against him. The first step of which was to go to a jungle planet. When Cold looked down at the thick rainforest as his ship descended into the planet's atmosphere, he could feel himself begin to sweat instinctively. His dad had been human, his mom hadn't been, and as it turned out genetics were in her favor. Cold was a milodan -- an eight-foot-tall saber-toothed catman, with fur the color and pattern of a Terran snow leopard, a dainty leaf-shaped tail, and black headfur that grew in anime protagonist spikes unless Cold kept it under control with excessive styling. His was a species optimized for frozen terrain with high winds -- not the jungle. In the jungle, he'd likely die of heat stroke. But perhaps, Cold reasoned, that was his dad's plan. To put the first test in a place where Cold could just straight up die. That would be just like him. So Cold stepped out of his ship in the only clothes he'd been given to wear since he was ten -- a blue ultrasilk three-piece suit, neck-tie, pressed white dress shirt, and shiny black shoes. An outfit completely unreasonable to have in the jungle -- but it was all he'd known. Equipped with a belt-mounted force-field generator, a scoped pistol and a knife he'd all found in the ship on the trip, he ventured forth from the rustic jungle town and into the jungle proper for his father's tests. Cold wasn't even down the stairs from the landing pad when he was sweating. By the time he got to the elevator and down to the ground floor he had his handkerchief out his breast pocket and dabbed at his forehead every few seconds. Even with the spaceport's air conditioning, the natural temperature for the jungle was just too high relative to what Cold was used to. Off into the jungle the unprepared saber-toothed catman went, with nothing except a range to search for his goal. After a few minutes tramping about in the mud, the heat began to overcome his ability to just wipe sweat away -- his pits and chest were growing incredibly sweaty. If he'd been in any other situation, he'd lament that his suit would need extensive cleaning, but navigating a jungle was more pressing. Thankfully, he wouldn't get lost, as one of the few implants he'd chosen to get was a built-in computer. He could connect to the satellites orbiting the plant with a delay, and get details information about the area. He realized too late that one such thing he ought to have considered was the local wildlife. Before that failing became clear, he had other problems to deal with. Cold had taken some steps toward what looked from orbit like a crash site but walked into thin air. The terrain had shifted elevation, but the brush and lack of such information on the maps didn't warn him beforehand. The once well-dressed catman stumbled down a steep hill, his sweat-stained suit became further ruined by rolling through mud and colorful plant life. His left trouser leg tore off at the knee as he rolled over some brambles. His shield prevented physical harm, but it did nothing for his dignity. At the bottom of the hill, he looked up to see small sections of his suit littered the way he'd traveled, if his suit hadn't been ruined by his sweating, it would certainly have been ruined by the fall. "Shit," he muttered to himself. Something moved in the brush when the tall sabertoothed catman stood up. Cat-like ears picked up on the size of the creature, from the noise it made, to be... substantial. "I'm armed!" He warned and took his pistol from his holster to hold it in front of him with both hands. When the sound repeated, and an entire tree was displaced, the fearful giant whirled around and pulled the trigger. Click. The weapon was an older model, one that required physical ammunition. And Cold had simply failed to notice that up to that point. He discarded the useless weapon and went for his knife, but before he could something lashed out from the jungle at him. It was like a whip, covered in reflective red scales, and it swung out to strike Cold full in the chest. His shield, a translucent bubble, flared up and stopped the attack dead in its tracks, but drained half its strength in so doing. The sabertoothed catman, son of a wealthy industrialist, a specialist in robotics tech, and a giant among men did what any sane person would do in that situation. He ran like hell. The heat, oppressive and inescapable, hindered his retreat from his hunter. Cold felt nauseous and light-headed while sweat soaked his clothes and his fur. And whatever hunted him was fast, faster than Cold could have been without his problems. A furry hand reached out of the brush and grabbed Cold by one of the back pockets of his trousers. With terrifying strength and speed, more than half his once-immaculate dress trousers were torn away and thrown far into the brush. In any other situation, Cold would have been embarrassed and ashamed to have his underwear exposed. One of the saber-toothed cat's cheeks showed off his lime green underpants with white elastic, while his black leather belt held up the remaining half of his trousers. At least he hadn't been wearing his white underwear, so the sweat didn't render them translucent. While he kept running, Cold couldn't help but feel a passing resentment toward his father for the situation. Suddenly, his daddy issues were thrown to the wayside as his hunter outsped him again, and allowed the rich boy a look at the creature. Humanoid from the waist up, covered in fine black fur with an almost felid appearance -- it even had feline ears -- with messy shoulder-length hair, pupil-less gold eyes, and a crown of leaves around his head. From the waist down, he was serpentine, with a single powerful naga-like tail covered in iridescent red scales -- the same thing which had lashed out at him. The creature, for Cold knew not its species name, lunged at him while the sabertoothed catman tried to stop his forward momentum. Once more Cold's shield popped into being and immediately broke on contact with the creature. However, the creature was clearly not used to breaking through such shields and was terribly out of sorts when momentum carried him into Cold's torso. Cold almost got away scot-free, sans a depleted shield battery, when the creature's clawed hands caught on his waistcoat and stained white dress shirt. From the creature's weight and Cold's own desire to get away from the beast, both garments tore free from Cold's body and remained in the stunned monster's grip while his prey ran. The industrialist's son was, as far as milodan were concerned, a twink. From his species' perspective, he was thin, not muscular, and bordered on waifish. From a human's perspective, his build closely resembled a runner's but sized up. Good for him in his current context. Cold, after ten minutes of solid running had gone by and he couldn't stand up anymore due to the onset of heat exhaustion, collapsed into the underbrush and fought the urge to cry. "Couldn't just let me go to work in the robotics lab to prove I was fit for this before you died, huh pops?" Bitter, Cold began to talk to himself. "I'm going to die on this stupid fucking planet, and all you'll care about in heaven or wherever you are will be that you wasted money on a bad prospect!" He lost control of his emotions, so recently confronted with the possibility of death, but found that he couldn't cry. His body had likely run out of spare water. The half-naked sabertoothed catman crawled through the mud and underbrush, where it was cool enough that he didn't feel like he was going to puke any longer. Sweat still poured from him, and after a while it seemed to overpower his deodorant, for he could start to smell himself. That meant that anything with a nose stronger than a human's could smell him too. It was only a matter of time, Cold told himself with a tearless sob, that whatever had been hunting him would find him again and then he'd die. Perhaps it would be quick, but something told the giant catman that he wasn't so lucky. Something colorful drew his attention through the layers of plant life. When he peeked up over the underbrush, he saw fruits hanging from a tree -- and there were piles of them along the base. The alien fruit strongly resembled Earth's mangos, and in desperation, he crawled toward them. While they didn't taste of mangos, they were juicy, sweet, and brought tears to the cat's eyes. Perhaps he would die, but if he could replace enough lost water with fruit juice, and they weren't poisonous, he could possibly live long enough to fight the naga creature with his knife. Die like a man, all that jazz. Another fruit fell onto his head while he gorged himself on the honey-gold fruit. When he naturally looked up from the blow, Cold felt his blood become as his name. There, coiled around the trees, was the beast that had pursued him. It flashed him a smile of unnaturally white teeth, and for a moment Cold felt hope. From the way the creature's teeth appeared, it was omnivorous. Perhaps he could escape being eaten alive! With fruit juice dribbling down his chin, and some of the mango-like food in his mouth, Cold grabbed another fruit, the one that had fallen on his head, and held it up to the creature. Cold swallowed what was in his mouth, and spoke -- on the off chance that the creature spoke Basic. "Wo-would you like to join me?" Quick as lightning, the creature slithered down the tree and was within two feet of Cold. With unnatural grace, the creature looked him up and down, then reached out and plucked the fruit from the saber-toothed cat's grip. The monster opened his mouth and swallowed the fruit whole, his neck visibly distending with the size of it as it passed down his gullet. Cold realized then, that this species would have been ideal for the vore subculture if it could swallow human-sized animals whole. The once immaculate catman tried smiling back but lost his smile as the creature approached him again. Cold fell back onto his butt and tried to scoot away from the monster, but found himself held fast by his remaining trouser leg. Not for long, as the ruined garment finally tore free. Cold's underwear was fully laid bare for the predator to see, briefs though he doubted the feline-naga knew or cared about that distinction, with a white outline of an LGM's head on the sizable flaccid bulge in the front. Unfortunately for Cold, the knife he'd been hoping to use to defend himself was in his trouser pocket, and thus he was unarmed. "Please," the giant catman begged the comparatively more slight alien creature. He held his hands in front of him as if to ward him off, and wished his parents hadn't had him declawed. "Please, I don't want to die...." "No one wants to die," responded the monster while his teeth were locked together in a smile that had begun to shift into a threat display. "But they do anyway. Especially weak offworlders who come into the wild unprepared." The cat-naga lunged forward and grabbed Cold by his necktie, that had remained behind after his shirt was torn off, and used it to halt the cat's retreat. The look of unmitigated terror on Cold's face seemed to please the monster. "Your barrier is no more... good." "Please, I'll do anything," Cold begged as tears began to fall once more. "I don't have much, but it's yours! Just don't kill me, please!" "All that you possess?" The feline-naga reached out and gripped the collar of Cold's jacked and yanked, tearing the last remaining piece of his suit to tatters. Cold wondered -- was the feline-naga doing that for the purpose of his little game, or removing anything that would impede digestion? "Yours! I give it willingly!" "All the wealth you possess?" The feline naga pulled Cold into a sitting position and swung his long tail around the offworlder. In the span of seconds, the saber-toothed cat was unable to move his arms, and his head was forced upward at an angle by the tip of his captor's tail. Cold's tie was removed, and the cat felt the feline-naga wrench one of his dress shoes off his foot. "If it is what you desire! Please, anything that I have -- I'll give it to you!" Cold was a blubbering mess at that point -- already he'd burned through the water the fruit had given him, and he felt like he was going to throw up from the pressure and heat of the monster's serpentine hold. Cold's other shoe was wrenched off his foot as well, and moments later Cold saw the footwear fly into the trees as if thrown by a pitcher. Then a hand cupped the bulge in his underpants, and Cold was thrown for a loop. "Your body? If it would mean your life, would you give me perhaps a few hours of your body's time?" The palm of the monster's hand rubbed against the cat's flaccid penis and his fingers rolled Cold's balls around under their ultralastic container. One of the other things Cold hadn't been allowed to do growing up was to date, to mingle with people in a social-sexual setting, or to take anyone to his bed or be taken to bed. In short -- he was a virgin. How he'd been teased by that growing up, eight feet tall and easily a couple hundred pounds, with a genetically engineered big dick, and he couldn't do anything with it because daddy didn't want grandkids while he was alive. Needless to say, the cat's blood flow redirected and soon the bulge the monster fondled so grew larger. Cold's face burned hot when he heard the appreciative murmur that the monster gave when the cat's dick was hard enough to be driven up and over his hip by the underpants he still wore. He gasped when the creature ran comparatively effeminate fingers along his shaft, with claws pressed just enough to be felt but not enough to tear his underpants. All the romance he'd built up about losing his virginity to someone he loved, who loved him, melted under the threat of death from a naga on an alien world. "Yes! Please, anything! Just don't kill me...." Cold's words lost strength as he was stimulated along with the overheating he experienced, and all he could vocalize from that point was sobs. The tip of the tail that held his head up unwound and slapped his cheek hard enough to leave it burning and the owner stunned. "Very well, I won't kill and devour you." Hope blossomed in the cat's chest, only to be crushed seconds later. "Instead I'll just take your life." The monster had seemed triumphant before he looked into Cold's face. That the sabertoothed offworlder had begun to sob again was evidently not the desired outcome. "What? I just said...." He paused and pressed his index fingers into the sides of his nose as if warding off a headache. "This tricksy offworlder language, I swear... I'm not killing you -- you will become mine for the rest of your life!" As the cat processed this, his sobs subsided. He looked in a sorry state -- in just his underwear and socks, half trapped in the coils of a cat-naga, still fully erect, with the only indicator of his former immaculate bearing being his unnaturally slicked back hairstyle. "Really?" The monster seemed to recoil at the tone Cold used in his question -- disbelief mixed with hope. "Yes, really. Now if you agree not to try and flee, I will explain further." With Cold's hasty agreement the slimmer, yet more massive creature unwound from Cold's torso and formed a ring around them. His feline upper half pushed Cold down into the muck with one hand and continued to stimulate the saber-toothed cat's genitals masterfully with the other. What had once been a sobbing wreck of a man soon became a moaning, muddy, writhing kitty. "You are mine, everything you own is mine, your body is mine to do with as I wish. In exchange, I won't kill and eat you as is my right. And this remains true until I say otherwise, or death makes it a non-issue." "Whose -- ah! -- whose death?" Cold tried desperately to remember the rudimentary law courses he'd taken in college, it seemed so long ago. But when he had a man-eating monster haggling terms with him, and a hand groping his wedding tackle, there wasn't much room left in his head. "Whoever is weakest. As it should be." The monster paused when he drew closer to the saber-toothed cat's body, and squinted. "Why are you sweating so much?" "I'm -- oh that feels nice. My species...," the cat covered his blushing face that had so recently been wet with tears with his hands. "I'm built for a really cold climate! And it's too hot here!" "Then why did you come here?" The monster's coils drew closer, and Cold was harshly yanked up by his shoulders to permit the serpentine limb coil under his back like a cushion. His monster associate clearly didn't mind the mud that clung to Cold's back. "The heat will kill you if you stay long." Velvet soft furry hands reached below Cold's underwear to grasp the cock beneath, slick with pre. "Ah!" Cold thrust into the hand instinctively, lifting his muddy backside off the ground for a moment. "My f-father-r he... oh please, don't stop. I'm so close." The saber-toothed cat's toes curled in his socks, digging the silk garments into the muck while his hands reached down to the monster's own. They were slapped away firmly, and with enough force that they stung afterward. "Your father banished you here?" To get more information, the monster released the catman's cock and moved his hand down to fondle his furry balls and taint. "No! Yes! I... he wanted me to," the cat's attempt at an explanation was cut off by a throaty moan. "He-he wanted me to find something here... to prove I'm worth inheriting his stuff. I didn't want it, but it's why he had me!" The monster looked down on the offworlder, and gold eyes filled with pity. "He was wrong to do that. You don't have children to give them a task." With that, the feline-naga removed his hand entirely from Cold's underpants, then quickly repositioned and lifted the catman off the ground in a bridal carry. For his sleek build, the feline-naga had prodigious physical strength. Without further words, the predator carried his prey off into the jungle. "Where--?" "To a watering hole, so that you may cool down and replenish your lost water. Then I will breed you to cement my claim, so others will know you are mine. And after that... I haven't thought about it much." Intellectually, Cold knew he should try to escape. The monster had tried to kill him, had ruined his clothes, and then forced him into being, in essence, a slave to stay alive. And he'd just declared intent to 'breed' Cold. Pragmatically, the saber-toothed cat knew he had no chance of escape. He was risking heat stroke with every moment he was in the jungle, and there was no way he could get back to civilization before the monster captured him again. And if he escaped only to be captured again, likely he would be eaten alive. "Cold," the saber-toothed cat said as he tried to relax in the monster's grip. "What? No, you are clearly overheated," the monster said back, then rubbed his cheek across Cold's forehead. "Yes, clearly overheated. You must be becoming delirious." "No, my name is Cold. May I have yours?" The monster was quiet for a long moment while he slithered through the jungle. "My kind don't form great groups like the Zil, Vanae, or offworlders. We have no need for names." His pupil-less eyes locked onto Cold's own and held him there with an intense look. "And should I wish it, you will not keep yours. You may stay Cold for at least a little while longer, at any rate." "Thank you." Cold's response was faint, barely above a whisper. He hadn't considered that the feline-naga would make changes to his personality, or that the monster would be so inclined. Eager to keep such a thing from happening, he tried to earn his way into the monster's good graces and nuzzled into his neck while the monster carried him. The monster purred, and the edges of his mouth turned up in a faint smile at the milodan's affections. They arrived at the watering hole the monster had mentioned moments later, and rather than drop him or set him on his feet, the feline-naga slithered into the water with Cold still in his arms. Crystal clear water, blessedly cool, washed over Cold's overheated limbs. When it got up to his chest, the saber-toothed cat cupped his hands and brought the water to his mouth eagerly multiple times in succession. Mud flaked off from his socks and underwear, though only the underwear was stainproof. He yelped when he felt the snake-naga grip his feet and remove the wet socks, to let them float away. Cold's briefs soon were similarly removed, tossed carelessly over the monster's shoulder to flop onto the shore. "You stink," the monster told him, blunt. "And your hair is stiff with lack of washing. As you are mine, and clearly your parents didn't teach it to you, I will bathe you. Watch and practice." Cold had seen tongue-baths by pet cats and some Kathirit people in the past, but this was his first experience on the receiving end. The human-faced feline-snake monster ran his abrasive tongue over Cold's fur in long, drawn-out licks that tickled inexplicably. More than once Cold had to suppress outright giggles as the feline-naga set about the arduous task of tongue-bathing a fully grown eight-foot tall catman. Those giggles then became moans when, after everywhere else was clean, the feline turned his attention to the offworlder's pelvic region. Cold was flipped over and both his cheeks and tail were subject to a thorough bath from the rough tongue, followed shortly thereafter by his taint, balls, and sheathe. Of course, Cold's slicked back hairdo had already been at risk from the heat and constant sweating, with the addition of water his hair began to revert to its spiky appearance. "You didn't practice," the monster observed with a less than pleased tone. "Sorry," Cold admitted with a downward look. "It just... felt so nice, I wanted to enjoy it." The cat was released to float under his own power, however he stayed within close proximity to the monster lest it take distance to mean an escape attempt. "No excuse, I expect you to clean yourself," the monster informed his captive and then began to circle the saber-toothed cat in a wide arc. His feline ears and humanoid face remained above the water while Cold could feel the powerful serpentine tail moving below. "You're less weepy now -- tell me more of the life that is mine, offworlder." Cold told the monster all about his life, about his father who had founded a mining company and grown relatively wealthy from the effort. As he did, the more he realized he hadn't done much with his life -- just followed orders and studied. The more he talked, the more filled with regret he became. Missed opportunities, things he'd longed to do but never did, sights he'd wished to see but were lost forever; these things ate at him as he told his story to the monster. "Do you want the life your father laid out for you?" The monster asked, out of the blue from Cold's perspective. It stunned him so much that he answered truthfully without thinking, "no." The answer seemed to satisfy the circling monster, and he swam to the shore. As the water ran down his fur and scales, the monster gestured for Cold to follow him. Cold's socks had long vanished, and he wouldn't wear them in the mud anyway, but he easily scooped up his underwear and put the damp undies back on as he followed. The lingering wetness in his fur helped keep him cool against the oppressive heat of the jungle. Cold was led to a giant tree stump. The ruined trunk lay beside it, covered in moss and fungi, easily as big as a starship and a similar shade of gray. The monster led him down into the roots, then into a hole in the ground that served as the beast's lair. It was cool, dark, and muddy -- all the cleanliness that Cold had enjoyed prior was stripped away as he was a muddy mess at the end of his climb down into the lair. In hindsight, he wished he'd gotten his socks back -- muddy socks would at least keep the gunk from getting in between his toes. "We will not linger here long," the monster told him from the dark. That helped Cold realize it was pitch black in the lair, with not even enough light for his feline eyes to see in. He relied entirely on his nose and ears to tell where the monster was. The sound of scales on mud in a confined space was all he heard for a long time until the creature spoke up again. "There, I have gathered all I need. After I breed you, we will go into the offworlder city, and to the ship that is now mine." Warm, velvet-furred arms enveloped the underwear-clad cat from behind and pressed him to the feline-naga's chest. "I have decided to go among the offworlders, perhaps to become one myself. And for that, I will need a name. When I breed you, you will give me a name as I make you cum. Do you understand?" Cold blushed unseen as the monster spoke directly into his ear, and trailed hands up and down his chest. The saber-toothed cat's nipples were found and became fixations of the monster's hands for a time -- brushing, flicking, and pinching -- until once more Cold was hard and throbbing in his underwear. "I have not been bred before," he admitted, breathless. "And neither have I bred anyone. But I understand." So far, the monster he'd sold himself to had been a better person than Cold's father had ever been, and the promise of sex after a lifetime of denial made him not want to think critically about the situation. The monster paused. Then Cold could feel his coils wrap around him, not oppressive and binding as before, but more like a protective embrace. The monster's humanoid lips planted kisses all across the right side of Cold's face, his neck, and shoulder. "Among my people and the Zil's, it is unusual for one to remain so to adulthood. Only the Vanae are chaste until they hunt down a mate. For your first time, I'll restrain myself. No pain, I promise." Cold sighed in relief and reached down to remove his underwear voluntarily. If they were returning to society soon, he wanted to have at least one item of his clothing wearable. As he pulled his feet from the underpants, the monster's tail threated around the garment and took it from him gently. Cold's cock, now revealed in the absolute darkness, was substantial. At the average for an adult Milodan, ten inches, from a human's perspective it was sizable. The small crown of fleshy nubs at the tip, what would have been barbs without genetic modification, were supposed to feel incredible to both men and women, though Cold had no personal experience. And at the base was an almost canine-like knot that would inflate substantially near orgasm to help ensure insemination. One of the monster's hands reached down and encircled the saber-toothed cat's length, careful to not let the claws prick the sensitive prick. Cold purred, blissful, and leaned back into the monster that had been of a mind to eat him not an hour ago. As he did, the feline-naga leaned back as well, until he was laying horizontal with the monster supporting him. "Remember, a name. My name." The monster pumped Cold's shaft deftly, while his other hand resumed the fondling of the saber-toothed cat's nipples. That same dick-free hand wandered down to Cold's testicles to roll them around in his hand. Names were not first on Cold's priorities. While the monster fondled his junk, the cat thrust up to meet the creatures felid hands. In the pitch black darkness, he couldn't see anything, only feel, hear, and smell. He felt the monster's hand drift down to his knot as it began to swell, and applied just enough pressure to get his captive writhing. He heard the sounds he made -- gasps, drawn-out whines, and purring. He smelled musk mix with the earthy smell of the lair, along with a pungent smell he was unfamiliar with. Soon afterward he felt a wet oblong press at his back, just above his tail -- he'd expected the feline-naga to grow aroused, however. What he didn't expect was to feel a second -- which drew a frightened gasp out of him when he thought a second monster lurked somewhere in the dark. "Hush," the creature said and kissed his way down Cold's neck to nibble at his clavicle. "My kind has two. I won't use both on you yet. But someday -- you will be able to take both and wish I had more to stuff you with." Sticky fluid clung to Cold's fur where the twin dicks had touched and continued to touch. That knowledge took the wind out of Cold's sails ever so slightly, but another squeeze on his knot and stimulus to his balls got him right back to where he was prior. His arms had been pressed to his sides out of fear that he would upset the monster, but as he drew closer, he ran his hands across the serpentine lower body that supported him and brushed the creature's velvety forearms. "What are you doing?" The monster's hands broke off from their ministrations to grip Cold's wrists and bring his hands to his torso. Bafflement in his voice led Cold to believe he'd done something wrong, perhaps even annoyed him. "I... I thought I should be doing something with my hands," the saber-toothed cat said, his face aflame from embarrassment. "Perhaps. But not that. I will teach you what to do, and when to do it. Right now, you are to be still and let me work." Without further interruption, the monster went back to stimulating his captive. In the span of a couple minutes, his ministrations saw the giant catman spasm, tense up, and slightly curl up on himself. Pre leaked from his cock like a faucet, consistent and weak. Cold felt like he desperately needed to pop his back, but couldn't quite get in the spot to do so. He desperately wanted to cum, but something was holding him at ninety-nine percent completion and holding him just shy of hitting that sweet hundo. The monster's ministrations slowed to an agonizing crawl, and his hot breath brushed Cold's ear. "My name?" He kept a pleasant tone of voice while the saber-toothed cat thrust into his hand ineffectually to bring himself to climax. All it got him was the monster's fingertips being all the stimulation for his dick. "I want you to give me a name you can scream out while you cum. Because I'll be making you do that a lot." 'Scream or cum,' Cold wanted to ask, but his words became needy moans and pleas to the monster to let him cum. The monster was relentless and seemed ready to tease Cold until the saber-toothed cat gave him what he wanted. Increasingly desperate as he began to fall down from ninety-nine percent to lower figures, the saber-toothed cat tried to think of a name he could articulate while cumming. The trouble was, from the porn he'd watched and read, the first orgasm from another person was always supposed to be huge -- overwhelming. Cold held his hands together, for he knew if he tried to bring himself to climax the monster would become upset. When he felt no more beads of pre running down his cock, the cat knew he was running out of time. "Vi-to," Cold gasped out around the surge of pleasure brought by the monster's fingertips brushing his knot. "Vito! Meaning life! Please!" For the second time in a day, the giant catman found himself begging the monster from a place of desperation -- though entirely in a different context. "Vito," the feline-naga rolled the word in his mouth. "Short, easily split in half. Now let's hear you scream it while you cum." The hands that had been cruelly removed from Cold's body returned, and their previous ministrations resumed. It didn't take long for the cat's toes to curl, for him to feel the delicious pressure build up again in his loins. Oddly the thing that pushed him over the edge was the monster rubbing his furry humanoid face along Cold's neck, with a rumbling purr of his own that mixed with Cold's. The two harmonized vibrations sent a shockwave down Cold's body that culminated in sweet release. "Vito! Aah, Vito!" Cold had no way of knowing if he was a screamer prior in his life, but he found out then. His long, barbed and knotted dick spasmed in the monster's, in Vito's, hand and shot long ropes of cum off into the darkness of the creature's lair. "Vito... Vito." The monster's new name was all Cold could say while he came down from the delicious high, panting and spent. In the pitch black pit, the only warning that he was about to pass out was a wave of exhaustion that filled the void left by orgasmic pleasure. "A good name, thank you. Sleep if you need it, I'll breed you when you wake up." Vito's serpentine coils wrapped around Cold, so that when Vito's torso moved out from beneath Cold's back he didn't move all that much. Exhausted and spent, with the feline-naga's permission, the sabertoothed catman nuzzled the scaly coil closest to his face and drifted off to sleep. Cold woke up alone, tucked into a corner of the lightless lair. He felt strangely bereft, not having his monstrous associate there. This battled with the pleasant coolness that the lair had for not containing such a massive naga-like form. His underwear was back around his waist, though on backward. While he fixed his wardrobe, his ears flicked around for the monster. Cold had no idea the size of the creature's lair, perhaps he had just been moved to a sleeping nook. "Vito?" Alone, and more than a little afraid, the eight-foot-tall catman stood up and promptly banged his head on a lower than the anticipated ceiling. "Vito? I can't see anything. Are you there?" The feline-naga wasn't. Cold bumbled around in the dark, called out to his captor, and got no response. He even located the tunnel upward but found it blocked by something he couldn't see and too heavy to move. Cold was trapped. In the dark, it was difficult to measure time -- fortunately, he had an internal chronometer implant to let him know two hours had passed since he'd been jacked so expertly by the monster. Cold held onto hope that the monster had just left for a moment, to get some food perhaps, and that he hadn't been abandoned. During that time, he made use of his implants to research. Vito's species were called 'naleen', a hybrid species of feline and serpentine features. They hunted for food, and for personal sexual pleasure. Had Vito never intended to eat him, Cold wondered, and he'd bargained away his life for nothing? Cold could call for help -- and the local government would send someone to save him. Put Vito down if he'd become a maneater, perhaps, and let Cold get back to his life. A life he didn't want, the feline realized. Left alone with his maudlin moods, Cold drifted toward his daddy issues once more. After a lot of soul-searching, crying, and decisions that were averted at the last second, Cold settled down by the muddy entrance to Vito's lair to wait, and to hope. He realized how pathetic it was, to sit and wait for someone who had either tried to kill him or bamboozle him into selling his life away. But he had already realized it was even more pathetic that even with his actions, Vito had still shown more affection than Cold had received from any one person in his life. Perhaps he hoped that Vito wouldn't be a monstrous abuser, and they could have something like a relationship. Perhaps he hoped that Vito would at least not treat him like a slave. Another hour passed, and the blockage in the entrance zone moved. Cold's ears perked up and he immediately climbed up to push against it to help it move. "Vito? Vito is that you?" A shaft of light around the edges let Cold see that it was a boulder the blocked the passageway. With his pushing, and whatever force moved it on the other side, the boulder moved aside. There indeed was Vito, but as Cold was elated to see him, the sabertoothed catman couldn't help but notice the smell of blood on Vito's breath. Or the familiar black shirt and red vest that the naleen wore suddenly. "I had hoped you would sleep longer," Vito said as he entered the lair and wrapped his arms around Cold's torso with ease. With similar ease, he drove the cat back down the muddy tunnel, into the darkness and coiled around him once he entered the main chamber of the lair. "While you rested, I went hunting. I encountered an offworlder who thought a ship with guns could keep him safe from the wilds." The naleen rubbed his humanoid face against Cold's stunned expression, and once more the smell of blood wafted up to the milodan's nose on his breath. "I... think I know who you're talking about. Those clothes, they look like the ones my cousin Jack usually wears." Cold wished he could feel sorry for his piece of shit cousin being eaten. But a lifetime of being antagonized, most recently with Jack openly declaring his intent to steal Cold's inheritance, had bottomed out his pity well. Still.... "Did he suffer?" The face pressed against Cold's muzzle frowned, and Cold felt lips pull back to bare teeth. "All that was yours is mine. He openly bragged about stealing from you, thus stealing from me. But for your sake, I offered him to trade for his thieving life. He declined, as he thought he could win." Vito took Cold's hands and placed them to a section of his serpentine lower body. There Cold could feel something bulge out from the scales -- something that felt distinctly like a human shoulder. "He failed to show proper respect and paid for it. You are superior to him, and now you're mine." Cold couldn't believe the gall of his, now late, cousin. To brag about stealing Cold's inheritance, even though it was unwanted, to random aliens. Still, he couldn't stop from imagining how afraid Jack must have been as he realized he couldn't win against the naleen and was eaten alive. Cold's pity well had greater depths than he'd realized. "If he would have just asked for it, I would have...." Cold couldn't bring himself to cry over his jackass cousin, but he would mourn the lost opportunities Jack represented. "It no longer matters," Vito told him and planted a kiss on Cold's neck. "I have what he aimed to steal -- and once I have bred you, we will leave the jungle together." Coils of naleen wrapped around Cold as if in an embrace. Cold could feel an otherwise flat section of Vito's waist swell and part, with both the naleen's phalluses quickly making their appearance. "As I promised, there will be no pain. Not for your first time." Cold wanted to be grateful, but a question had gnawed at him since Vito's return and he simply had to ask it. "Would you have really eaten me?" The naleen coiled around him froze all at once, then relaxed as Vito sighed. "Yes," he told the saber-toothed cat matter-of-factly. "The entire reason I went out hunting again was that your tempting offer denied me a meal I desperately needed." Cold felt Vito move against his chest, one hand went down to the sabertoothed catman's underwear in the back while the other went to his face opposite where Vido laid more kisses and licks. "Your drive to survive, to do whatever was necessary to keep on living pleased me. While I found you beautiful before, I have devoured many beautiful things. In his own way, your cousin was beautiful. But the need to survive precedes all others, even the need for beauty." Cold had never been called 'beautiful' before. Even with the circumstances, once more in the dark, covered in mud, in just his underpants and with his cousin's corpse being digested in the body wrapped around him, Cold swiftly developed an underwear-stretching erection. His erection found itself sandwiched between both of Vito's once the naleen pulled down Cold's underwear. The naleen lifted Cold completely off the ground, so his underwear fell completely off and left him nude. "If there is any pain, any discomfort, tell me and I will correct it." Vito bade Cold wrap his arms about the naleen's shoulders, and hook his legs behind Vito's back. Each one of Vito's twin cocks jabbed into one of Cold's cheeks, leaking substantially more than they had previously. Cold found himself grateful for the gene mods his father had paid for to eliminate fecal matter clinging to his intestinal wall, and for a primitive form of self-lubrication down there. It had been embarrassing to find out about at fourteen, but with his cherry about to be popped on an alien world, he found the prospect of a mucus that would bond with pre-seminal fluid to form a potent lube appealing. Vito did as well when he picked one of his cocks to breed Cold with and lined up with the catman's hole in the dark. A few missed thrusts planted wet kisses of pre around Cold's virgin hole, but then Vito finally hit home. Cold winced in discomfort while Vito purred as his tip pressed into the ring of muscle without preparation. Perhaps, he realized, Vito didn't know to do such things? He was about to ask when the naleen's cock throbbed, and a sizable load of pre emerged from his cockhead and into Cold's hole. There, the mucus went to work and Vito's cock began to slide in purely from the force of gravity pushing down on Cold. Cold was a gasping, moaning, twitchy mess as the naleen cock just slid in as if it had been made specifically for his hole. Or would it be his hole that had been made for Vito's dick? Which one of them was older? Cold didn't care about such things, he instead squeezed his arms and legs around Vito's chest and rubbed his balls across the phallus that wasn't penetrating him. Vito rumbled a purr so strong it made Cold vibrate a little as his cock sank to the junction between his phalluses, as keep as he could go into Cold from their position. "I am so glad I didn't eat you," he told the cat and planted kisses all along his cheeks and neck. "No pain?" "Just... ah, a little." Cold had to struggle to find words when his ass was so full of dick, and his brain was so full of endorphins due to his ass being so full of dick. He could feel the naleen's super-lubed pre leak from his ass around the cock, while traditional pre mixed with Cold's own in between their chests. "It's gone now. Now it feels... so nice." "It will be better in a moment, just you wait." Vito held Cold still while his hips pulled back. When only the tip of his member remained in Cold's hole, he pistoned back into it. His other phallus jostled Cold's balls as it rose up again, then ground against his knotted dick. "Just... a moment...." Vito pulled out then pistoned in again, and each time he changed his trajectory slightly. Cold had no idea what he was doing, it was almost like the naleen was using his dick to search for something. Dawning realization came to Cold's mind a split second before Vito found that which he'd sought. Cold's prostate was rubbed in a glancing blow from Vito's dick, but that sent an explosion of pleasure through the sabertoothed catman. In the dark, no one saw how Cold's back arched, to drive his and Vito's dicks together while the cat spurt a jet of pre onto their chests, but Vito felt it. He also heard the shaky gasp that occurred at the same time, followed by Cold moaning out his name. The next time he pulled back to thrust, he hit the prostate head on. He made sure that he hit that sweet spot inside his lover's velvety insides every time from then on. Higher thoughts had been wrung out of Cold, all he could think about was how mind-numbingly good he felt having his prostate hit by Vito's dick, while the naleen's other dick and Cold's frotted wetly. The only word he spoke was Vito's name, and he held onto the naleen for dear life. The naleen rubbed up and down Cold's back to stoke his muddy fur, while he planted a plethora of kisses along the cat's face, neck, and shoulders. Suddenly, all hip motion stopped on Vito's part. Perhaps the naleen had picked up on how tense the sabertoothed catman had become, how his balls had started to draw up in preparation for the climax. Cola whined plaintively and tried to push himself down onto Vito's dick, but to no avail -- he was already as deep as he could go. "You are mine," Vito told him with his nose brushing against Cold's own. The naleen pulled his hips back until he was fully extracted from Cold's rear, then thrust back in. "Yes, Vito," Cold moaned out, his eyes open though glazed over from lust. Neither could see in the inky darkness, so it mattered little. "Your body is mine, your worldly possessions are mine." Twice more, in rapid succession, Vito extracted himself to thrust back in time with the word 'mine'. "Yes, a-ah! Yes, Vito!" Moans became pleasured howls, as Cold's ass was plowed, his prostate stimulated, his balls rolled around and his dick frotted all at once during the movement. Fortunately, he had no claws to scratch up Vito's back. Cold's short tail twitched and flicked from his body's need to do something with all the energy he had pent up. "You give them to me freely, in exchange for this! In exchange for your life!" Vito's pistoning movement resumed regularity but had a greater degree of force to it. Like he was trying to fuck the idea of his ownership of Cold into the offworlder. "Yes! Yes!" "Scream my name, offworlder! Let the next of my kind to live here hear the echoes for decades!" With frantic pace, Vito thrust into the saber-toothed cat while his other dick was pressed against Cold's between their belies. Cold's prostate finally sounded the signal for the giant catman's orgasm. It felt like the after effects of an explosion. He could feel his mouth open to scream something at the top of his lungs, to give voice to his pleasure. His chin was struck by a wet substance -- either his cum or Vito's -- and his ass clenched down on Vito's penetrating dick. Moments later he felt warm liquid fill up his anal cavity, pushed deeper by Vito's continued thrusts. Both males panted as they came down from their respective orgasms. Vito kept up his backrubs and licked his lover's face where seed had struck. While the cat continued to pant, he extracted himself and let the sound of his seed leaking from the cat's ass fill the lair. Once his thoroughly bred lover had recovered a bit and was nearing sleep again, the naleen turned and carried him toward the entrance to the lair. "V-ito," Cold whispered as it was the strongest he could make his voice. "My underwear?" Patient and understanding, Vito nuzzled his lover's face while he held him. "I could command you to go nude for the rest of your life -- as I have. Would you like that?" "N-no," Cold admitted. "I want... you to be the only one who sees me like this." Vito had fully intended to leave the offworlder's garment behind, a welcoming present for the next occupant. But Cold's sentiment, that he alone should have the privilege of seeing Cold in the nude, stroked his ego in a way he hadn't anticipated. Moments later, Cold was set on the ground briefly, so his underpants could be brought up and secured at his waist, then he resumed his previous position of full-body embracing Vito. The two of them left Vito's lair behind, and Cold left the life he hated behind. Vito would chase Cold's inheritance, use Cold to obtain his father's wealth, and use his predatory nature to secure even greater wealth. And unlike so many nobodies who became powerful, Vito had no need to chase every attractive piece of tail he laid eyes on. It would be a long time before the two of them developed loving feelings for each other, longer still until they admitted it. But at that moment, as Cold was carried through the jungle stinking of sex and covered in mud, he didn't mind being in the coils of a monster.