Written By Zhie

He moved through the weeds slowly, his sleek body brushing them aside as he neared the drawbridge. Water cut to either side of his leathery skin, caressing his fins as he slid up to shore. Placing his fins upon the muddy ledge of dirt, he lifted himself directly up from the stream. Shark crept up to the structure, carefully avoiding the roaming red shafts of light. As he made his way to the back of the building, he reached for the water resistant case that hung off his shoulder. From inside, he pulled a pair of binoculars, and looked up to the windows of the third story. Crouching in the moonlight, Shark adjusted the lenses and focused in on one particular window.

He saw nothing at first, but after waiting, saw what he had hoped he would not. It had taken him over a year to train his lion not to come to this horrible place with that damned cheetah. And now, sitting in Cat's Lair, with a puma on his lap, was Thunderwolf, a bottle of brandy in one hand, grabbing Pumyra's ass with the other. Shark threw down his binoculars, then kicked at the dirt. Struggling to keep from either dragging Thunderwolf out of the lair by his tail or flopping down and crying right there, he fled back to the water and swam downstream.

---

Dr. Zhie raised an eyebrow as Shark glumly shuffled past her into her Lonsdale residence. In the living room, a card game had been paused so that the doctor could see who was at the door. Shark briefly greeted the three at the table with a nod. Ruka was missing his socks and belt, Faero his shirt and vest, and RD was somewhat happily down to only his pants. Had he been in a better mood, Shark would have joined in for a few hands, but instead the ichthyoid merely continued to walk to the dining room, where the liquor cabinet was built into the wall. Immediately he opened it, fished around for the highest proof bottle he could find, and downed half the bottle. Shark began to open his jaws to speak, but the doctor waved it off as she slipped the bottle from his fin and motioned for those in the living room to leave. The three sighed, collected their clothing from the center of the table, and headed in the direction of the billiards room of the basement. One of them tossed the doctor's lab coat back at her as they left. Instead of grabbing for it, Zhie let it fall short and hit the floor. She was busying herself with the table, which Shark now realized was a locked cedar chest. Curious, Shark knelt where the doctor was crouching and digging through the contents. She began to hand him book after book from the box. Shark giggled and smirked as he read the titles. He smirked again when he read the name of the author. While he was skimming one of the books, he felt something get tossed at his side. He looked, and noted it was a medical bag, it was heavy, and whatever was in it didn't sound like medical stuff when it hit the ground. Shark looked up. Dr. Zhie was grinning mischievously, then handed him one last item – a 35mm camera with a zoom lens. Shark hugged the doctor, then hastily gathered the numerous books up into his fins. Zhie helped to lift the medical bag atop the pile, then placed the cording that was attached to either side of the camera around Shark's neck. Dr. Zhie planned to walk him to the door, but Shark's pace had quickened so that he was out the front door before she had been able to get halfway across the room.

---

Shark hurried back to the three bedroom townhouse that he and Thunderwolf shared. Excitedly, he began to dig through the bag, and pulled out each item, examining it before setting it on the floor. It amazed him that so much would fit into such a small case. After setting up the room, he giggled to himself as he skimmed through the books he'd borrowed. Several times he had to reposition the play toys that he had set out. At the very last moment, and due to a suggestion from the book he'd most recently aged through, he dimmed the lights, lit two or three well placed candles to keep things darkened, and threw a sheet over the items he had on the table. As he heard the key turn in the lock of the door, he tucked the books under a throw pillow on the chair. The figure of a lion staggered through the door, fumbling for a light switch. Shark stood and approached. When he reached the lion, he pushed the thundarian's arm down and away from the switch. Thunderwolf's golden-brown eyes met the aqua-grey gaze of the shark.

For a moment, the aquatic biped began to doubt his being able to continue with his plan. It took merely a second for him to regain his courage as he dwelled in the eyes of his lover and realized no remorse was present, no trace of an apology for what had been done. Of course, the lion had no idea that Shark knew where he'd been and what, or in this case who, he'd done. Regardless, Shark raised a fin and slapped it across the feline's jaw, then shoved him against the wall.

--- Thunderwolf's first reaction was to retaliate, both with force and with words. It was the triple row of razor sharp teeth that stopped him. But stubborn pride won out, and Thunderwolf attempted a lunge at the Shark. The attempt failed, as Shark saw what was coming, and slid to the right, then shoved down hard on the lion's back. Thunderwolf crumpled to the floor, landing on his hands and knees.

His ATTEMPT to get up was met with resistance on his back. Looking up, he saw Shark standing over him. The grey skinned man shook his head, maintaining on his face a look of pseudo-anger. In fact, to Thunderwolf, Shark's expression, coupled with the fact that his arms were crossed over his chest, made him look like a drill sergeant. This unexpected change made the lion curious, and he decided not to try to get back up unless he was so instructed to. From behind his back, Shark produced a thick leather collar. Thunderwolf's jaw dropped slightly as Shark bent down in front of the lion. Drawing it around the thundarian's neck, Shark brushed his lion's mane out of the way and adjusted the thick strip until it was tightly wrapped. Thunderwolf swallowed, but found it difficult to do so with his throat constricted as such. His thoughts were intense at the moment, and he somehow wasn't able to pull his mind back to reality until he felt his entire body being yanked forward. Shark jerked on the leash again. At first, Thunderwolf did attempt to get back up to his feet, but was again met with the same resistance as before. Cursing quietly to himself, he slowly crawled behind Shark as he was led into the living room on his hands and knees.

The sight as he entered the room shocked and intrigued him. Most of the furniture had been moved to the edges of the room so that there was a large open space in the center. All of the shades were drawn, but a few glimmers from nearly burnt out candles allowed a certain glow in the room. The lights from passing cars flickered every so often through the blinds, giving a rather dark and sinister feel to the usually bright and cheerful room as the faded light slid down the wall. A moment later, he realized why the room was not lit as it usually was. Above the room, where there once had been a chandelier hanging, only the hook that attached it to the ceiling remained. He had not noticed that while making this observation, Shark had ventured behind him. Without warning, a wet towel was scrunched against both his nose and mouth.

Before having –A chance to –React-he-was—-----awakened suddenly as something awful passed under his nose. Coming out of his daze, he watched as Shark replaced the cap on a bottle. Thunderwolf made an attempt to lunge forward, but with no success, for the next thing that was brought to his attention was that his arms were bound behind him, and his feet below. But…very loosely bound. As he began to get his bearings, he planned to voice his opinions on how Shark was treating him – yet could not speak. His throat dry, his tongue sliding over a smooth rubber gag that had been inserted so that his mouth could barely close around it, lips unable to move. The light flashed in through the slits in the blinds, and the lion could make out the shape of his beloved, yet suddenly turned sadist Shark, sitting on the sofa. Thunderwolf looked above. The hook overhead had a rope running from it to behind him – somehow he was aware that it connected to his hands. There was a pulley of some sort as well. Not about to find out how the makeshift contraption worked, Thunderwolf struggled against the bonds. Shifting, pulling, and straining did him no good, and only exhausted the thundarian. He was perspiring heavily, which was more than evident to Shark, as the ichthyoid had remembered to remove all of the lion's clothing before restraining him. Shark now took delight in watching the writhing form strung up in the center of the room, the moisture glistening off of his tanned skin. Muscles expanded and contracted, chest rose and fell, and finally, his moving slowed and stopped. Shark grinned again, stood, and approached his captive. Pleading eyes met his, and for the first time, Shark could smell fear. He'd smelled it before, from others he'd met. People he knew, some in passing who took a moment to look in awe at his jaws, then briskly walk away. Sometimes his friends, just because of his massive size and power, both of which he kept in check at all times, but still could cause the heart to skip a beat. But never had he smelled fear from Thunderwolf. And he liked it. Running a fin from the lion's cheek down across his chest, and then around to an altogether different cheek, Shark felt his playmate's body tense and shiver beneath his touch. An almost spasmodic reaction was the result as Shark firmly grasped his lion's rear end. Thunderwolf made another desperate tug on his restraints. Shark furrowed his brow, faking a look of sadness and confusion as to why his slave would try to escape from him. Stepping behind his lion, the shark grasped a small bar that was bound on either end of one of Thunderwolf's wrists and raised it so that it was well above the lion's head. Thunderwolf cocked his head back to see the foot long piece of golden metal. The design was familiar to him – it was a replication of a certain Thundercat's weapon of choice – the expandable energy staff. And it was the word `expandable' that made him struggle again, trying to force his arms back down at the very least. Shark gave the bar a twist, and Thunderwolf's arms were suddenly wrenched apart and spread above him. Then the rope from the ceiling was pulled, and he was suspended from the hook, arms pulled taut overhead. Thunderwolf's throat expanded, and had he not been gagged, Shark would have been the recipient of a loud roar. The fish giggled. And then became mischievous.

First, Shark adjusted the bar connected to Thunderwolf's feet, so that the lion was now fully displayed and stretched tightly. Shark weighted down the lower bar, then raised the lion higher. This caused the restraints to pull Thunderwolf even tighter, and Shark licked his lips in delight at Thunderwolf's expression. Both pain and pleasure were written upon the feline's face, though Shark could still pick up on the smell of fear – as well as arousal. It was time for Shark to find where he'd placed that camera.---Thunderwolf could do little more than watch as Shark fumbled through the assortment of items on the table. He did notice a rather familiar camera – the one he'd given to his daughter on her eighteenth birthday when she'd shown interest in becoming a photographer for the Third Earth Inquirer. If it really was hers, that meant that Shark had most likely borrowed a number of other objects. Thunderwolf again tugged at the ropes. Shark's attention was brought back to the lion. He stood and approached, holding in one fin the camera, and in the other he had a rather crude looking instrument. It was a shoot of dried bamboo, but one end had been cut lengthwise so that there were five or six thin pieces branching from the handle, which was wrapped in leather. Shark set up the camera from the side, adjusting the timer to shoot every forty-five seconds, then hurried to position himself behind the lion. The canvas of tanned fur was spread out in front of him, and he anxiously tried to decide where to begin. The first swat was mild, in the realm of pain. Thunderwolf would have barely noticed the first stroke, except that his entire concentration was on what Shark was doing. The second was harder, and better placed. By the third, Shark seemed to have caught on to the idea, and Thunderwolf's body jerked away from the crude whip-like instrument.

The camera flashed just as Shark was laying the forth blow against the lion's back.

"You like that, don't you?" Shark whispered from behind, placing a fifth lash against the feline. "Your reflexes are deceiving what your mind is thinking, aren't they."

The sixth time the bamboo whistled through the air, it stopped closer to Thunderwolf's neck, and Shark traced the tip of it down his prey's back. A perfectly timed flash of light came from the other side of the room.

"My, my, what big shoulders you have…" The stick was dropped to the floor as Shark began to massage the lion's muscular physique with his fins.

"And what big teeth I have…" he concluded, pinching one of Thunderwolf's shoulders in his massage jaws.

The lion didn't do much as flinch; in fact he leaned into the bite. Shark grasped the other shoulder and rubbed it a bit harder, then switched to biting on that one. The camera continued it's documentation of the event, pausing only when the little red out-of-film light began to flash. The ichthyoid crossed the room and rewound the film, keeping his eyes on Thunderwolf. The lion was panting slightly, sweat merely glistening on his skin. Shark was pleased to see that his work had aroused the thunderian, and was eager to get back to what he'd been doing. He reprogrammed the camera for longer intervals, then crossed the room to a bucket filled with ice and concealing a bottle of wine. He returned to the lion holding it and two glasses, as well as another item. It was a small box, and it looked somewhat old and decrepit. There was no lid on it, and barely visible sticking out of the top was some sort of utensil, perhaps a spoon of some kind. Thunderwolf shifted a bit uneasily.

"You're much more inviting of a physical punishment, I've noticed." Shark answered him. "You like to thrash about, like to be pushed around a bit, restrained like this, all that is great fun for you, isn't it."

The lion shook his head, but too playfully for Shark to believe him. It was obvious that the lion wanted to return to their game as much as Shark did.

"I could whip you until morning, and it wouldn't stop you from going out after breakfast, finding yourself a Thundercat whore, and fucking her before lunch, would it?" Shark questioned.

Thunderwolf tried to protest, but through the gag, it was little more than muffled mewls.

"I need to be able to trust you, sweetie." Shark began to pour the wine into the glasses while Thunderwolf began to nod in an attempt to convince him that he would be able to. Shark ignored Thunderwolf's efforts, and carefully measured the powder on the spoon-like object. He was about to add it to one of the glasses, then stopped.

Shark held the odorless while powder to the lion's nose. "Do you know what this is?" Thunderwolf shook his head. "You would like to know, wouldn't you?" Thunderwolf nodded enthusiastically. "I don't think I should tell you." Answered Shark, tapping it into one of the glasses. Thunderwolf growled a muffled growl a bit in protest, more in frustration.

Shark set both glasses on the table, the one nearest containing the powder.

"It is what is going to keep you with me and away from those women you keep going after." Shark placed a fin on either side of the lion's head. "I need to remove this." He said, fingering the gag. "But if I do that, you need to promise me you'll be a good kitty. No biting, no yelling, none of that stuff. I have ways to deal with that if you do. Understand?"

The lion nodded, and Shark carefully removed the obstruction. Thunderwolf let his jaws relax now that the awful contraption was out of the way. He managed a hoarse "Thank you" as he kept watch on what his lover was doing. Shark nodded, gave a grin, and then picked up the glass of wine that contained the powder. He approached the lion, and held it close to his lips.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you love me?"

"More than anything." Answered the lion softly, his eyes fixed upon the glass.

"Then drink." Prompted Shark.

"But –" Thunderwolf caught himself, knowing that any protest would negate his responses. He parted his lips and allowed Shark to hold the glass so that he could sip the contents. The entire time, he kept his gaze set on Shark's eyes. If he didn't, he wasn't sure he would have been able to follow the directions as instructed. Tipping his head back slightly to get the few last drops, he caught a glimpse of Shark's smile. Shark placed the glass back on the table.

"I hope that wasn't too bitter for you. The powder tends to make it that way." Shark picked up the second glass and came back to the lion.

"It was okay." Thunderwolf told him, though he really wanted to ask how Shark would have known how it had tasted.

"I drank a glass before you arrived. It only works if both drink." Shark continued, unknowingly answering the unasked question. "But it helps to drink a second glass without the powder, gets rid of the taste."

Thunderwolf willingly allowed Shark to give him the second glass, after which he asked exactly what the powder would do to them.

"The closest analogy is that it turns the wine into a "love potion". It will cause you to never desire anyone else again. And, "grinned the shark, "it will cause you to desire me more than you ever have before. Feeling that sort of dizzy, tingling feeling yet?"

Thunderwolf nodded slightly, moving a bit restlessly in his bindings. Now that Shark mentioned it, he really was aching to get his hands on his fish. "So, are you going to let me go yet?"

"Absolutely not." Replied Shark. "If I let you go, and you so much as look at anyone else, you'll end up falling for them. And I don't even want to deal with the consequences of you looking in the mirror." Shark approached Thunderwolf again, holding the gag. "If I let you go now, it could ruin everything. We have to wait until the powder takes its full affect."

Thunderwolf jerked his head away. "You're not going to put that thing on me again, are you?"

"You don't like it?" Shark frowned. "I thought it added to the experience. That's what it says in chapter six, at least." He said, pointing at the book on the couch.

"True. However, sometimes you have to bend those rules a bit. Chapter nine, you might not have gotten that far yet." Thunderwolf explained.

"No, it's a long book." Shark grinned again, tossing the gag back onto the pile of toys and sorting through them. "So, when were you going to tell me you wrote sex manuals?"

"A lion's gotta do something to make a few bucks." Thunderwolf answered. "I just can't imagine anyone would still have them, that was back on Thundera."

"Your daughter was keeping copies around in case she ever had to black male you." Shark said, picking up a pair of rubber gloves, then realizing they wouldn't fit over his hands, put them back down. "If that were the only reason, they'd still have been in the original shrink wrap."

Thunderwolf watched as Shark came skipping over happily with an odd looking instrument. "What the hell is that?"

"It's something I stole from another fanfic." Shark said proudly. "I'd tell you what it is, but since it's from someone else's story, and I can't say the name unless I want to be sued for copyright infringement, you'll just have to hope that you've read the story it's from."

"That's not a shiller, is it?" Thunderwolf wondered out loud. Shark's fin suddenly silenced him, placed firmly across his mouth.

"Don't do that! Every time you say that word, we'll end up having to pay royalties to the person who owns it. That could really start making this fanfic expensive. And you know that there isn't a whole lot of money in the porn industry to throw it around like that." Shark removed his fin.

"But that is a shiller, right? Can I have it when you're done? That would be so cool to add to my torture collection. Please?" Thunderwolf begged.

Shark was thinking about getting upset, since the budget for the fanfic would have to be doubled now with the royalty fees they'd have to pay. And yet, somehow, what had just been said could work to his advantage.

"Well, the only problem with it is, since it's already been used in two previous fanfics, and now this one, it's running low on power. It's only working at about a tenth of what it usually can do, and I don't know if it can be recharged. Are you sure you still want it?" Shark questioned him. He'd been encircling the lion, so that now he stood directly behind him.

"Oh yes, I definitely still want it." Thunderwolf said, and then bit his lip, realizing his grammatical errors, too late to retract them as he felt the oddest sensation run down from the tip of his tail into the rest of his body. He stiffened and relaxed only several moments after the rod was no longer in contact with his tail. "Whoa." Thunderwolf shivered suddenly, some sort of energy still dissipating as it reached the tips of his fingers and toes. His whole body tingled and he wasn't quite sure if the experience was more pain or pleasure. He had a feeling he'd have a chance to make a further comparison as the night continued. Shark slid his fin across Thunderwolf's back approvingly.

"That was the lowest possible setting, you know. I don't know if I should ease slowly into a more intense level, or let you experience that right away."

Thunderwolf said nothing, somewhat in shock that Shark was, in a way, harming him, and enjoying it. "Shark, I am so sorry about earlier. I really am. I wasn't thinking, and I'll never do it again."

"I know you won't ever do it again." Agreed Shark, "But you still have to be punished for what you have done. I've let you get by too many times without even a slap on the wrist. This time," Shark said as the shiller recharged, "I was to make sure you remember."

The lion jerked against his restraints as the tip of his tail met the tip of the rod once again. He was jolted a bit more than the last time, and it was quite clear that the voltage had been increased this time. Thunderwolf gritted his teeth, and soon the feeling began to leave his body, but not as fast as it had the previous time. He tried not to pant, but couldn't help it. He was positive, although he could not see his companion's face, that Shark was smiling. Instead of protesting this time, Thunderwolf waited for the next wave to travel through his muscles. And it did, again and again, getting stronger and stronger. As the level of pain increased, the level of pleasure did as well. By the eighth burst of energy, Thunderwolf became unsure of his ability to control himself. Somehow sensing this, Shark placed the shiller down onto the table and went to the kitchen, returning with a wet cloth. He gave the lion a playful pat to begin with, looking quite proud of what he had accomplished. Then he proceeded to dab the cloth about his captive, cooling the lion down. It upset Thunderwolf that he was less aroused from this act, but didn't protest. The cool cloth helped his sore, aching muscles and the heat that was contained within him from the shiller. Shark reached for one of Thunderwolf's wrists, exciting the lion to think that he was to be released. It nearly disappointed the feline to feel the bond stretch further still. Shark continued to tighten each of the lion's limbs. The stretching alone was painful for Thunderwolf, but all this was placed aside as the shiller once again made contact with his tail.

-----

"How are you feeling, love?" Shark asked, sweeping the cool cloth across the lion's forehead.

Thunderwolf moaned an answered. The last few hours had been a continuous cycle. Shark would torture him to the brink with the shiller, only to bring him back down with the cold water and cloth. For the last hour especially, the lion had wished some sort of release, and was denied it by Shark. He had no idea what the correct response was, but he knew he needed Shark, and soon.

"You want me, don't you?" Shark teased, continuing to cool the lion's skin, though the fur was already wet and glistening from sweat. "You know what that is? That's the powder from the wine. The shiller is meant for main, there's no way for you to get excited from it. But the powder, no matter what, is what makes you feel this way."

"Please Shark, I can't stand this anymore." Thunderwolf finally managed to gasp.

"I'm sure you could make it past another forty minutes or so." Shark assured him, readying the shiller.

"Please, don't, Shark, please don't. I feel this…urge, this need…I can no longer handle this." The lion admitted, hanging his head.

"Are you…surrendering?" Shark traced the edge of the shiller against his lion's skin, but did not use it.

Thunderwolf contemplated that thought for a moment. Above all, above the code, thundercats never surrendered. But if he did not, not only would he be subjected to the further torment of the shiller, which, to him, wasn't exactly a bad thing – just tiring, but he would also be kept from any other activities that might be able to happen, and the powder that he'd ingested was causing him a burning sensation. Not the type of burning from a flame, but another usually pleasurable type. Unless, of course, you were in a situation such as this, and kept from quelling the fire. But the implications of a thundercat who had surrendered were tremendous – turning one's back on the entire group was the best analogy to it. Turning his back to Cheetara, and Pumyra, and any of the other female nobles was what he would really be doing. That was what shark wanted, not for him to abandon the clan, but merely to stop holding private counsel meetings in their chambers. Thunderwolf looked up to see the shark in front of him.

"I surrender." He said with a sigh, "But to you, and you alone."

-----

The pair awoke in the morning, exhausted, but disturbed by an incessant knocking on the front door. Shark managed to untangle himself from a sleepy lion who smiled lazily and snuggled back into the comforter as Shark walked to the door and down the stairs. As soon as he was within earshot of whoever was banging on the door, he began to explain that he was coming, that horses could be held, and that if the door was broken, someone's ass would be in a sling.

"Oh, it's only you." Shark let the door swing open so that the cheetah would enter. "What are you doing here so early?"

Zhie gave Shark a funny look, then showed him the display on her watch. It clearly read 7:45 am on Friday morning. The last time he'd seen her, it had been Tuesday.

"Friday! Oh, shoot! I didn't realize we'd been sleeping this long!" Shark exclaimed.

Zhie gave him an ever funnier look, shook her head, and proceeded to make her way into the living room where she collected her "therapy supplies". Shark began to sheepishly take down the contraption he'd built that was still in the living room. It didn't take long and they had moved everything back into it's place.

"I'm so sorry, I know I promised I'd get this stuff back to you before the weekend," Shark began, but Zhie waved it off as they headed to the door.

Just as the doctor was about to leave, she noticed a peculiar item sitting on the desk. Picking it up and reading the side of the box, she brushed off the white powder that had landed on her sleeve, then scratched her head and looked questioningly at Shark.

"It was a last minute thing, it's from your fridge. Hold on." Shark fished through a pile of items in a box on the desk and retrieved the lid to the box of baking soda. "I would have asked, but I was just so excited about it I forgot."

Dr.Zhie took the box, smirked, and decided not to ask. She was better off not knowing. She already had too much of an idea as it was after seeing the living room the way it was. Waving goodbye, she quickly headed out of the house and down the driveway.