Churro's gait was a rhythmic dance of feline arrogance, his broad shoulders rolling with each step as he navigated the labyrinthine alleyways of 1930s Cincinnati. He had one place in mind: Sweetcore Alley. It was a hot night in the middle of a Cincinatti summer, and Churro had been daring enough to leave his shirt and shoes at home. Considering the nature of what went on in that sleazy den of masculine hormones, this could only help his chances. He could hear jazz playing through the solid brick walls of the . The tiger was wearing the striped bottom half of a zoot suit, leaving his upper body bared to release as much heat into the musky, dirty alley way as he could.

"Anyone home?" he crooned, knowing there'd be someone. There was always someone, some unfortunate soul who needed a belly full of tiger seed, and Churro had more than enough to share. It was one of the few places in the city that guys like him could meet up and get off 'safely', and on a weeknight like this the alley should be swarming. It was empty, though. Well, almost empty.

There was one slender figure sitting on top of a stack of moving pallets. Churro recognized the stack - he had bent a stallion over it the week previous, and the poor sap had gotten splinters in his dick from the rough hewn wood. The guy sitting on the wooden framing now was rodent, not equine, and he casually leaned back, watching Churro approach.

"Where is everyone?" The tiger asked, as he approached. The mouse was small, maybe too small to be compatible, but Churro stroked his fingers through his own cream-colored chest fur anyways. Guys loved a fluffy chest. "There some event going on?"

"Nah, there was a raid about an hour ago," the mouse said. He eyed Churro up and down, his sinuous tail coiling around the wooden slats of the crate he was perched on. "Everyone else got spooked."

"Everyone 'cept you? That's mighty brave of ya," Churro said with a grin. The mouse was eyeing him up like he was the prey animal, and the rodent's confidence made the tiger's fur bristle in excitement. 

"What can I say, I live by my own rules." The mouse tapped his wrist. "The first one is: Time is money." He sized Churro up, grinning lopsidedly and pointing at his own groin. "What's a big strong kitty like you walkin' the streets for? Looking for some fresh mouse meat?"

"I had a snack earlier, thanks," Churro snorted. He cupped his groin, giving the handsome bulge a squeeze, enjoying the way it pushed back against his fingers. "How about I fuck your throat, instead?"

The mouse looked momentarily startled, his cheeks flushing with a hint of red as he cleared his throat. "Damn, you certainly get straight to the point, don't you?" He smirked then, glancing up the alley and then down it, then sizing the feline up again. His eyes settled on the tiger's handsome bulge, licking his lips as he sized Churro up. "I mean, that's great, though. I like it when a guy is so direct, prevents any kind of confusion."

"I thought you might," the tiger snickered, as he unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down his beefy striped thighs. The fabric puddled around his ankles,  leaving the big tiger grinning and naked in the dingy alleyway. He rested his hands on his hips, soft cock hanging down over two ripened tiger balls. He gripped the base, flapping it with one hand to slap sturdily into the palm of his other with a wet fwap fwap fwap sound. "So? You gonna stare at it, or are you gonna open up and gulp it down?"

The mouse squirmed, the tiger used to the tangy smell of apprehension when he was so forward with the little prey types. "I mean, well, aren't you worried about my big, long, sharp mouse teeth?" the mouse asked, his tail curling shyly around his ankle as he leaned back against the crate. "I mean, you're so big, you could hurt me real easy... or I could hurt you."

Churro scoffed, stepping forward, knowing this little game all too well. "Oh, I sincerely doubt that you could hurt me, but if you want, I can keep your jaws nice and stretched while I'm fucking your throat." He rested his paws on the wooden crate, all confident feline arrogance as he nuzzled against the friendly mouse's cheek. "I mean, you are prey, so you'd probably get off on that all by itself, right?"

Clik. 

This time, it was Churro who was caught unaware, as his gloating was interrupted by the soft, metallic sound of a pistol's safety lever being disengaged. The feeling of a cold, hard, round barrel of a revolver being prodded into the side of his cock caught his attention real fast, and as he started to reach to bat it away, the gun pushed deeper into the crotch of his fat dick.

"I dunno, mister tiger," the mouse said, grinning with renewed confidence as he nudged the gun more firmly against the tiger's pubic mound. "I've never tried to get off from blowing a predator's dick off, but there's a first time for everything, right?" the mouse teased. 

"Wha- what is this," Churro said, staring dumbfoundedly down at his groin. He took a step back, to pull his groin away, and as he did, the mouse pulled the trigger. 

CLAK. 

"Oh, lucky you. I thought I had filled every chamber, but I guess I missed one," the mouse said. He leaned forward, the barrel jabbing sharply in against the tiger's hip bone as he slid himself forward and off the crate. "So, as you can guess, no fancy moves, mister tiger sir." 

"Are you robbing me? I don't have my wallet-" the tiger said, his hackles raised, his hands going up in the air. The mouse reached between Churro's legs and gripped the tiger's cock with his free hand, slapping the heavy cudgel up and down in his palm in a mimicry of Churro's earlier taunt.

"I figured as such," The mouse sighed, his sleek fingers teasing and stroking the tiger's dick in an all too casual way for a mugger. "Thinking it's gonna be a bit bigger than a simple mugging, but don't worry, you'll live." He grinned, glancing down to the tiger's cock, which had somehow fattened and thickened up with the easy attention. "You do have a nice piece, don't you? I'm afraid mine packs a bit more of a punch, though. Come on." 

The mouse twisted his wrist, bending Churro's cock down an even darker and narrower alley that intersected with the one they were standing in. "Let's go for a little walk this way." The mouse walked, holding the tiger's dick like a lead. Churro followed him, his body tingling with excitement and fear, his dick throbbing in the mouse's grasp every couple of steps. The mouse, for his part, was keeping a nice grip on him, his fingers gently squeezing and shifting to subtly massage and coax the horny tiger. 

As they weaved through the narrower side alley, they ended up on a street, with a lone van parked there. It was one of the big white ones that were used for milk delivery, and Churro's heart sank as he recognized the big grinning fox decal on the side of it. The Cream Cartel. 

Oh, FUCK.

The Cream Cartel was a family operation, dealing with delivering milk to folks in the nicer side of town, where Churro resided. He had seen their van a dozen times over the last couple months, and had asked some of his alley buds about it. Some of his hookups used the cartel to acquire certain contraband things along with their milk - hash and whiskey, sometimes even morphine - and Churro knew of two dudes who had disappeared when their money dried up. He knew then that the gun that was prodding into the side of his fat sheath was definitely real, and definitely loaded. He really had gotten lucky.

"Get in the van," the mouse said, politely. He gave the shaft of the tiger's cock a playful squeeze, and a little tug, stroking towards the backdoor.

"Uh, no, I... don't want to," Churro explained.

"Oh, I think there's a misunderstanding," the mouse said. He stroked his fingers along the tiger's cock, until they gripped just under the head, tugging against it insistently. "Me and your dick are getting in the van. You can stay out here, if you want to. Separately. Does that make sense to you?"

'If I get in that van, I'm probably dead,' Churro thought. He had no connections to the Cream Cartel, or any other organized crime, but times were lean, and he had stepped right into their little snare. He looked down at his cock, the proud, thick organ jutting arrogantly towards the van, filling the mouse's paw, so much bigger than the stupid gun pressing against its root.
He looked over at the mouse, who, seeing the calculating expression in the feline's eyes, shook his head warningly. Churro could run or attack, but if he chose either, his dick was being blown clean off. Despite his claws, fangs and muscles, at this moment, he was powerless. A chill brushed down his spine, as he swallowed hard and bowed his head. The mouse had seemed so into him. Had he really completely misread the rodent's cues, or  "Fine, fine. Just don't let go of my cock, mouse man, your fingers feel awful nice."

"Good lord, you are a real piece of work," the mouse laughed. He swung open the back doors of the van, a plume of raw, pungent cigarette smoke billowing out and around them. The gun shifted, pressing against the tiger's  tail and prodding him forward. "Get in."

The inside of the van was claustrophobically dark, springs creaking loudly with his extra weight as he boarded into the back of it. The mouse remained on the street, but Churro could see two red cherries glowing, saw the hint of two pairs of red gleaming eyes turning to regard him. His own eyes adapted easily enough to see the other men's shadows slinking back away from his form. The mouse climbed up behind him, and grasped the tiger's cock again, giving it a squeeze. 

Churro loved the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable in front of the other dudes, the cock in the mouse's hand  wet at the tip as the tiger's pent up slime oozed down the underside of it.

"Well, lookie what the mouse dragged in," said one of the hidden figures. Churro could smell the acrid musk of rodent underneath the haze of burnt tobacco. "Young, hung, and full of dumb. Ha!"

"Clean fur, good teeth, and easy to boss around," the mouse that had led him in said, toying with the tiger's maleness and gesturing to the feline's powerful body with the weapon in his other hand. "Expensive clothes, and he lives with his rich family up on the high side of town, so we know they're loaded."

"Good work, Crimmy," the smoker said. With the doors swung closed behind them, the stench of his cigarette was clouding up the van, the peculiar funk of it making the tiger's eyes water. He could smell old blood, stale fear, and the sharp musk of drunk, angry men. "Family like that will pay anything to keep their precious son safe. So my boy behind ya's got a gun pointed at the back of your head. Or maybe it's your head. Or maybe it's your liver. Doesn't matter, wherever it's pointed, he won't miss. So don't try anything stupid."

Churro's brain was racing too fast for him to think of anything stupid to do.  All he could think of was the feel of the mouse's fingers on his dick, as Crimmy led Churro by his dick to the middle of the van. The mouse gesturing for him to sit down on the ground with his back against the wall, and the tiger nodded in response, doing as told. He leaned forward as his muscular, bared arms were pulled behind his back and trussed with a dirty rope. He stared at the creamy fur of his inner thighs and vaguely realized, in his shocked state of mind, that he had left his pants back in the alley way. 
'Should I tell them? Would someone recognize them? Would they come looking for him?' 

He watched, blankly, as his legs were bound to the far side of the van. Churro was a tall cat, and his form filled up most of the wall and spread over the inside of the truck easily. He watched as his ankles were bound, vaguely realizing that any chance of running or fighting was being taken away from him. 

Then, 'Crimmy's tail coiled around his dick, giving it an easy stroke, pulling up and over it in a subtle gesture. Churro bit his lips, confused and aroused and terrified, his heart pounding hard in his chest. The mouse gave him a knowing wink.. which only confused Churro even more.

"Thing is," the smoker said, after he was satisfied that Churro was sufficiently immobilized. "We can't just ask for money. We gotta prove that we have their precious queer tiger in our clutches, and they have to be aware that we are capable of doing very, very bad things to him." He took a drag of his smoke, and then squatted down between Churo's spread thighs. He ashed his cigarette, tapping it so that the cherry dropped out of the smoke and landed on the tip of the tiger's cock. "I say we send him a piece of this."

"What?" the third rodent said, larger, heavier than the rest. Maybe a ferret, maybe a weasel. "No way, he needs his dick to breed. You cut off a predator's cock, he's basically useless."

"He's not breeding, Bello," The smoker said. "We caught him in that alley. Guys in that alley aren't looking to make kids."

Churro wasn't sure if he should protest or agree with them. He was staring at his dick, eyes wide, shocked at the escalation. They were casually talking about cutting off his dick and sending it to his parents. His parents. The shock of it alone would... destroy his mother, and ruin his father. 

"Yeah but maybe they don't know that," Crimmy said. He gripped the tiger's cock in his hand, lifting it up, examining it. "We want his parents to pay, and they're only going to do that if they think it's an investment. There's no investment in a totaled car. Naw, we gotta send something less... destructive. More menacing." His fingers slipped down, and he gripped the furry holster that normally held the feline's dick. "What about this? The sheath? I'm sure they'd recognize it as his, and it's threatening enough to make them want to save him without actually ruining him."

"Too subtle," Bello countered. He wrapped his big, rough, meaty paw around the head of Chgurro's cock, squeezing it firmly in a crushing grip. "Now, his cockhead, that's a trophy. Functionally useless other than to make him cum, too. I say we get rid of that."

"Nah, then we're just docking him, and that's what they do for homos anyways," smoker said. He reached between Crimmy and Bello's hands, to grasp the shaft of the tiger's erection directly. He squeezed down, stroking his fingertips against the supple, shiny, smooth skin of the tiger's dick. "We'll send this. They'll be able to recognize it by the smell, and whether they know he's a queer or not, they'll know what we can do with the rest of him."

"Damn, Shiitake, you're fucking brutal," Bello said, pulling his hand off of Churro's shaft. He grimaced at the slick precum that stained his fingers, and grabbed the tiger's ear, wiping the slime off on it. "That's gonna fuckin' hurt."

"Hopefully the pain means money to his family," Shiitake said. "Gag him, I don't need his screeches to attract attention."

Churro panicked, turning his head away from Bello as the big lug reached for his face. He sought out Crimmy, pleading with the mouse as he tried to avoid Bello.

"No, don't do this! You don't have to do this!" the tiger shouted, as the weasel gripped his upper lip and pulled upwards. "Crimmy! Please, don't let them hurt my dick, I'll just ask for money and they'll- hrgggh!"

Crimmy looked on sympathetically as Churro's maw was pried open, gum and fangs bared. Bello kept his jaws spread, and Shiitake picked up an old, empty milk bottle that they had been using for an ashtray. He loaded it into the tiger's maw, pushing it between thick fangs, and Churro gagged as the rounded end of a glass milk bottle was shoved between his jaws. Teeth clacked against the class, scraping and clicking, and the leader of the little gang shook his head disapprovingly.

"Don't want to do that, not unless you want to eat glass. I don't have to remind you that once we get the money, releasing you is at our discretion. You choke to death on your own throat blood, we're 'releasing' you into the Ohio River, got it?"

"We don't have to release him," Crimmy said, smiling slowly. He wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle, leering down at the big muscular feline. "I could use a housecat, you know. Someone to keep my feet warm at night."

Churro nodded, trying to use his tongue to push the bottle out of the back of his throat, but Crimmy was holding it in place. He gagged, coughing around it and peering up at the mouse, but Crimmy was watching Shiitake and ignoring him. Churro whimpered, and then whimpered again, louder, as the rat displayed an ugly, wicked, short little dagger. It was chipped, the tip broken off, with rust stained into the edges of the blade. Shiitake made himself comfortable, kneeling between Churro's bound and muscular thighs, and cupped up underneath the tiger's nut-sack. He examined the feline's orbs with one hand, twisting the left one between his fingers, giving it a squeeze until the tiger's torso clenched down with the pain of it. 

"Good, good. I just wanted to set the tone, you know? Make sure you know how utterly unable you are to stop this. So don't try. Just enjoy the sensation of having your dick peeled," the rat said.

"Like a potato," Bello added in, for emphasis, leering down at them. He was standing by the back door, a hand resting on his own bulge, giving himself a grope.

"Naw, naw, like an apple," Crimmy countered with a devious grin. "All crisp and shiny and juicy." He leered down at the tiger. "Shame about your big dick getting skinned, but to be honest, I'd rather see you riding a cock than sporting one anyways." The tiger blushed, and Shiitake cleared his throat, irritated at the flirting going on in front of him. 

"Juicy, huh? I worry about you sometimes, Crimmy." Shiitake said, as he pulled the bulk of the feline's dick towards himself, drawing it taut with the cockhead jammed into the middle of his wrist. He pressed the edge of the blade against the top of the tiger's cock, and scraped downwards, to bunch the sheath up against the feline's groin. He gave the erection in his hand a pleasant, mocking squeeze. "I'm glad you're so excited for this, chum. It's gonna make it a lot easier for me to shuck your silk if you can keep your cob nice and hard for me." 

Then, he began to peel. He pushed in, sinking the edge of the blade just past the thin skin at the root of Churro's cock, and pulled towards himself. The silver blade slid between the skin and the dense, solid spongy tissue underneath, and Churro could even see the darkened metal splinter of the blade as it sheared underneath his skin. 

Of course, it stung like crazy. The sensation of the thick dull blade carving into the tiger's flesh, slow and inexorable, felt like hot lava burning through his precious sex flesh. Churro screamed, his teeth crackling against the solid glass bottle, the glass vibrating with the hoarse bellow of agony pouring out of the tiger's chest. He strained, he hissed, he tried to pull his junk away from the rat's vile blade, but there was no escaping the endless pain that remained as the skin of his cock was stripped away.

"Oops, I think I clipped some of his glans," Shiitake said, as a burst of hot blood spurted out from where the blade met the tiger's shaft. He had, in fact, shaved the rounded bulge of the end of Churro's glans clean off, digging the blade into and through the sensitive flesh and shaving it off as easily as an old bunion. A pink blob could be seen underneath the translucent, yellowish skin that had bunched up in loose wrinkling sags on top of the fat blade. Shiitake lifted the blade away, flipping it over so that the loose skin, still attached at the very tip of the tiger's penis, dangled down over the head like a veil. The wounded flesh was laid bare, the glans seeping warm oozes of blood that drooled down and over the heavy ball bag resting on the van floor underneath. 

Churro groaned as the blade ceased its torment, relaxing in his grip around the bottle. He had been forced to try to keep from biting down, despite everything in his body that demanded he do just that. His tongue, pressed against the underside of the bottle, felt the slash of a hidden glass splinter, an unseen crack slicing against the pink muscle despite his best attempts to avoid it. Tears poured down over his handsome cheeks, following a black strip down over the back of his jaws. He stared at the wounded, angry red stripe of bared flesh on the top of his cock, his head shaking back and forth, unwilling to accept that he had been so intimately maimed.

"You're doing great," Crimmy said, his mouth close to Churro's ear. The feline whimpered, as the mouse stroked the top of the feline's striped head. "It's just a bit of pain, nothing big. You're gonna be okay." His other hand stroked down Churro's chest, feeling the powerful muscle there, gripping and twisting a nipple between his fingertips as the tiger's body throbbed at the conflicting sensations. Why was Crimmy doing that?!

Then, the rat went back to do it again. The blade was able to take strips that were only an inch wide, at most, and Churro's cock was handsomely, proudly thick. It took seven slow, inexorably agonizing passes to get most of the skin whittled away, dangling in uneven, ragged skin strips from the end of the tiger's dick. Each strip tore more of the tiger's intimacy away from him, until he was left with nothing except flayed erectile tissue, throbbing with raw and unending pain. His cockhead had been wounded as well, the flat facets of the carved flesh reminiscent of a wooden stake. The only unmarred part of Churro's shaft was the delicate tip, the urethra still seeping slick precum that drooled down the strands of skin that hung from the very end of his shaft.

Shiitake wiped the flat of his blade against the tiger's thigh, adding a dark stripe between two of the tiger's already existing one. He resheathed it, and slid his fingers under the dangling tassel of skin, lifting it up and gesturing to Bello. 

"This is what you're gonna take to his family. The tigers and panthers are all up on the east side. Over the bridge, to the left. You'll smell the piss before you see their houses," He said, stroking his fingertips along the dangling strips. "You let them sniff it, hell, let them keep it, and you tell them that if they want the rest of him back in one contiguous piece, that they'll give you a thousand smackers. He'll lose a piece of his body for every dollar less than that they give you."

"Yeah, boss, that makes sense," Bello said. The weasel watched as Shiitake continued the slow, teasing fondling, then reached down and scooped up the half dozen strands in one paw. He squeezed down, and yanked. 

Churro yelped around the bottle, as the still delicate pieces of his shorn skin were ripped away from the end of his penis. The skin tore, peeled abruptly away from the sensitive tip. The inside of his urethra was ripped out as well, the lining stretching briefly before snapping audibly. Churro yawled, jaws clenching down, bottle crackling dangerously between his thick fangs.

"Ugh, cat dicks do stink," Bello said, as he held up the strings of stolen skin. "I'll get back as soon as I can, just make sure you get some vinegar for me to wash this musk off of my fingers when I do. Ha!"

Bello slinked away into the night, a parcel of Churro's pride clutched in one paw. The alleyway swallowed his silhouette, and with him, a slice of Churo's hope that he could escape this night unmaimed. He looked down at his maleness, the dark red flesh throbbing, the open air burning against exposed nerves. His brain was fried with the pain, and now he could feel shards of glass prodding against his gums and cheek from the partially broken bottle. 

Fortunately for him, Crimmy was kind enough to offer a small reprieve. The mouse pulled the broken bottle free of his mouth, the cracked edges slicing open the tiger's stretched lips as it was pulled loose. Churro could feel a splinter, maybe a half an inch long, still embedded between two of his fangs, and his tongue absently stroked along it, cutting into the tip of his tongue in the same spot as he had already sliced it earlier. Churro winced, then looked up, peering hopelessly up to the assailants who had taken the skin from his cock.

Crimmy and Shiitake loomed over him, sneering down at the wounded feline. Shiitake's arms were crossed, and Crimmy was holding the cracked, bloodied bottle in one hand like a weapon. They were staring at the tiger's denuded cock, their eyes narrowed, their lips slowly pulling back into malicious smiles.

Crimmy spoke first, gesturing at the tiger's erection, which was still jutting up and solid out of his groin, mostly from Crimmy's teasing. Mostly. "Dude likes being abused, I think. Might be fun to keep him around, for fun, you know? Afterwards?"

Churro's dick throbbed, again, at the casual way that the mouse was suggesting that the tiger could be used as some kind of party toy. He imagined himself being passed around from one rodent to another, fucked and forced to suck them off, glazed with the seed of random thugs and goons who hated him for being a big, powerful predator. His nuts churned, and his arousal at being so debased just made his dick throb again.

"Yeah, I think he is. Or else he's so stupid his brain has caught up with his body. Still thinks he's gonna get his rocks off," Shiitake said. The rat knelt down, and grasped Churro's naked shaft. He squeezed it, smirking wider at the tiger's groan of pain, and waggled the tiger's dick through the air. Then, fingers slick and wet and hot, he began to stroke the tiger's raw shaft. 

It was peculiar, feeling the spongey, ribbed flesh of the tiger's inner cock flexing under his fingers. It was ridged like the edge of a quarter, and when he squeezed, the whole thing ballooned in an almost cartoonish manner. The tiger squirmed at that, kicking and fighting as Shiitake stroked the naked wet flesh with his raw, dirty hand.

"Come on, big boy, I thought this was what you were into?" The rat taunted. He squeezed the head of the tiger's cock between his fingers, crushing the tomato-red, bleeding glans between his fingers. "Are you gonna get off from this? I mean, we may be here for a while... I feel like you should put on a little show to keep me entertained."
But Churro could only respond with a stifled groan, a ragged sound torn from the depths of his soul. His body betrayed him, responding to the stimulation with an instinctive eagerness that belied the torment rippling through every nerve ending.
"You really should," Crimmy added, as he tossed the bottle out the back of the van with a crash. "You want to impress us, right? You want to prove you're worth keeping alive? Come on, 'stud', show us just how good you are at getting off."
Churro whimpered, his tongue useless and swollen in his mouth as he tried to talk. He got some slurred, blood-muffled words before a backhand cracked across his cheek, sending his world spinning.
"No no no, I didn't ask your opinion, I told you to enjoy this," Shiitake growled. He grimaced at the mess of a dick that was slimily throbbing between his fingers, his other hand held open to Crimmy. "Give me your gun, Crims."

Crimmy did so, without hesitation, pressing the gun that he had used to take Churro off the street into Shiitake's palm. The rat's fingers curled deftly around it, and he pushed the barrel of it against the tip of the tiger's dick.

"You fuckin' cum or I'm blasting your junk into pink mist," the rat snarled. 

"I c-can't," Churro pleaded, wincing as his teeth jammed the shard of glass deeper between his fangs. "P-please, I'm sorry!"

"Don't kill him, Shiitake," Crimmy said. "He's gonna cum, you see that right? He's so close, he's gonna fuckin' explode. Right, stripes?" 

Shiitake was stroking faster, his grip keeping the tiger's dick ramrod sticking straight up, the barrel of the gun jamming more insistently against his torn, gaping urethra. 

"Come on, pussy, cum for me," Shiitake said, as he twisted the handle, forcing the tip of the gun down into the tiger's broad cockhead. The glans bulged out with the piece of the metal that was jammed into it, as the rat pushed it in.

"C-can't! Can't!" Churro blubbered, watching in horror as his cockhead began to split around the bulk of the cold smooth metal gun "God, stop, please, PLEASE!"

"If you want it to stop, then fucking CUM!" Shiitake roared. He cocked the hammer with a click, and laughed, wiggling the tip further and further into the splitting cock, forcing the ruined flesh to split slowly down the middle with the very end of the gun hidden inside. 

Crimmy nipped the tiger's ears, grabbing the feline's nipple, and twisted, hard. Churro groaned, the pangs of the nipple play and the agony of the forced sounding creating a soup of raw, intense sensation that his body could not resist, could not ignore.

The van shook, as Bello bounded back inside. He was empty handed, the weasel looking chastened, and out of breath.

"Boss, the cops are coming. They got the skin, I just threw it at them and ran."

"WHAT?!" Shiitake hissed, his hand still moving, still stroking Churro's flesh, the tiger squirming underneath him.

"I did it," Churro gasped, "I'm cumming, I-"

BLAM.

Churro's body jolted, thighs trying to close, as his cock exploded. The bullet slammed into the tiger's urethra, which, while slick with blood and precum, was not nearly stretchy enough to handle a wad of heated metal travelling at 300 miles per hour. The gun's barrel was inserted about an inch down through the skinless shaft, and the bullet, well... it obliterated it. The tiger's penis ruptured in every direction, as kinetic force blasted into through the inside of the stretched, taut, blood filled penis, and the straining flesh simply yielded. 

The two halves of his cockhead, already on either side and past the barrel, were the least destroyed, as they popped off in opposite directions. Crimmy caught one in his hand, instinctively, the thumb-sized piece of tissue splatting against his palm as he raised it up to protect his face. The other bounced off into the front of the truck, somewhere. 

The rest of Churro's penis was shattered, a cacophony of ruined flesh and viscera erupting through the van in a macabre pinata. What had been a prized feline penis, the biggest in the neighborhood, was reduced to a grotesque spray of confetti, the smell of blood, singed meat and cordite filling the van with the taste of the aerosolized virility.

Bello gawked as a fragment of dick hit him in the forehead, leaving a smear of red as it bounced off and fell to the ground. Laughter bubbled up from his throat, as he pointed to the cat's ruined groin. "Fuck, he exploded!"

The feline was stunned, but his body was not. Despite having catastrophically lost his endowment, the tiger's groin was still gushing seed out of the burned, ragged wound that was the root of the feline's penis. The bullet, buried in that root, popped out with the flow of hot cum, that gushed in lazy muddy squirts out over the torn flesh, pouring over the naked testicles that still laid on the van floor. Shiitake stood up, his gun smoking, the barrel smeared with dried blood, a grim smile playing across his narrow snout. "There. No ransom? No problems."

Churro lay there, broken and stunned, his muscular chest and handsome face spattered with pieces of what had been his former glory. There were pieces of him everywhere, dripping off the ceiling, clinging to the wall, slapped onto milk bottles. The loss was complete, his entire masculinity destroyed with a moment of sensation that echoed in his brain the way the sound of the gunshot was still echoing down the alleyway. He looked down at his groin, watching as seed pooled out of his ruined cock. He had been about to cum, though now the torturous agony that had led him to that involuntary ejaculation was gone, seared off, and he could not fathom what was happening. His body was purging itself of seed, but there was no pleasure associated with it, not even any pain. Just numbness. He watched, disconnected from the orgasm that his body was feeling, just an audience to his own distant suffering.

"Hey, what's that now?" They heard the voice, distant - at the end of the block maybe - and a flashlight's dim beam briefly shone into the van, before slinking away. It was the fuzz. There was an uneasy agreement with them; as long as the Cream Cartel didn't do anything in front of them, they were willing to be 'unwilling' to pursue cases that were directly tied to them. But if they were stupid enough to be caught by a couple patrollers, they deserved to hit the slammer.

Crimmy slid into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to live. Bello pulled the doors closed as Shiitake stood up, reupholstering his gun and glaring disgustedly down at the tiger.

"We needed that money for the rye coming in from down south," he muttered, reaching up to wipe viscera from underneath his left eye. "You swore this would work, Crimmy, you were sure that we could get easy money this way."

"We can, boss!" Crimmy said. "That was only plan A. There's still like five plans left to go. I know a guy who knows a guy. It's just his cock that's gone, right? His balls are still okay, right? Not popped? Not ripped off?"

Shiitake nudged the semi-conscious feline's left nut with a foot. It was slimy, but solid, and as he nudged it it retracted up towards his groin. "Yeah..."

"So I know a guy who sells, uh, 'spare parts' to a weird dude downtown. Willing to pay TOP DOLLAR, as long as what you're selling is primo. That tiger's dick is toast, but his balls are big, right? We can still sell them off. We just gotta plump 'em up first. This guy will pay a fortune for such impressive, uh, specimens. We can get a grand for them, at least."

Crimmy's words hung in the air, ripe with the scent of greed, and Shiitake and Bello looked at each other.

Shiitake's eyes narrowed. "And it's only coincidental that you end up with a neutered, dickless fuck toy afterwards, right?" 

"It's pure upside, boss!" Crimmy grinned maniacally. "Which leads me to plan C! You give me a neutered, dickless himbo pred like him, and I can churn him for a LOT of cream. There's a lot of pent up rodents who would love the chance to 'vent' on a subby predator. And cutting off the balls is easy - you can do that, right Belly?"

"Sure," Bello said with a shrug. "I'll lop off some cat nuts for a grand, no problem. One less cat making kittens in the world."

Shiitake leered at Bello, as a passing streetlamp cast a flash of light across his muzzle, his whiskers twitching with anticipation. "Well... what are we waiting for, then?"

*~*~*~*~*

The city's pulse throbbed in the veins of dark alleys and quiet ditches, as a feline in a trenchcoat prowled through the business district. The banks were closed and the office workers had gone home, and that was great, because this feline wasn't looking to invest in the stock market. He was here for more tangible assets, and it being such a nice, hot evening, he knew he wouldn't be disappointed.

A hushed whistle cut through the air, drawing his attention, and the tiger's sharp eyes flicked to a stack of barrels.. and the shadowy figure leaning against the brick facade just behind them. Charn glanced up the street, and then down, then approached the figure. 

"Hey, Chrys, what's up?" the tiger said. He could make out the tall, slender figure's distinctly blockish snout and huge ears quite clearly. 

Chrys glanced up and down the street, then gestured to the tiger to approach. "I got something for ya. Something good."

"How good," Charn said, amicably. He stepped into the alley, checking to make sure that they were alone. They were. "ANd how much of it?"

The maned wolf lifted up a briefcase from behind the barrels, and laid it flat on the one between the two of them. "You're gonna like this. A couple rodents came across some fat meat, and wanted to sell it to me. They wanted more than I usually pay out, but..."

He lifted up the briefcase, revealing Churro's huge, fat scrotum, laying on the top of a thick pad. The tiger's scrotum had been washed, groomed, and the heavy testicles filled the scrotum near to bursting. The scrotum was drawn tight around the aching nuts, which were touching two other sacks.

"Three scrotes?" Charn asked. The heft of the center scrotum, clearly a fellow tiger's, far surpassed the bulk of either of the other two, but the second and third pair were impressive in their own rights.

"Mmmhmm. I told them I'd need more than one sac for what they were asking, and they were nice enough to go and procure a few extras. I saw them slice all three off myself, not more than an hour ago." 

The tiger reached for the briefcase, and Chrys slapped it closed. 

"Uh uh uh, I know your tendency to devour things you find beautiful. You can have the whole briefcase for ten."

"Ten...?" Charn snorted. "They're nice, they're not... that nice..." He was smiling though. "I'll give you two."

"Two grand, for the prized testicles of three separate men? Three straight studs who had every intention of breeding tonight?" Chrys waxed dramatically, sighing and shaking his head. "Their balls were meant to be slapping against the meaty haunches of their girlfriends, not resting in my decadent silk-lined briefcase... and you would offer a paltry two grand..."

"Five grand," Charn said, amusedly. "They're quite nice, and quite plump, but there are limits to even my generosity."

"You are killing me, stripes," Chrys said, as he pushed the briefcase forward. "But I guess I can agree to that. They're all yours."

"Of course they are. It's not like you'd be selling them to anyone else, right?" Charn chuckled, taking the briefcase in one hand. The weight of it was pleasant, hanging from his hand, the padded interior keeping the pilfered pouches from shifting. 

"Of course not, Charn. Nobody else would pay for them like you do." Chrys said. 

What is Lost	Balls	
Setting	Historical	
POV	3rd omniscient	
Consent/Mood	Surprise Reversal	
Other Character:	Avian-ish and Knotter	
Theme	Sadism: The aggressor antagonizing and softening up the prey before moving in to claim what is theirs	
	Polished stones	
	When something is removed and made to look even better (stuffed, polished, posed etc)