	Sen checked the crumpled scrap of paper in his hand and scratched his yellow mane. His donkey-ears flickered this way and that as he tried in vain to tune out the rabble and ruckus around him. Southtown docks, white cruise-liner near the convention centre, marked as the Sitri. Not exactly a name worthy of a cruise liner, he thought; he expected something with a little more gravitas. The white-washed exterior and generally unassuming look of ship also made him reconsider. Could this boring-looking cruise ship really be the legendary “Floating city of sodomy” he had heard so much about? Sen crumpled the piece of paper and threw it into a trash can. If this wasn't it, there really wasn't anywhere else for him to go.

	The colossal ocean liner dwarfed the convention centre beside it, and the suited figures standing at the berth were exactly what the donkey had been told to look for. He had been following the ship's course for months on a small network of obscure internet sites and private forums. When news broke that it was going to be docking here in his hometown and looking to hire, the donkey jumped at the chance. Contact information was cautiously exchanged, video interviews were done via encrypted connections from dark studios, and he was in. They (whomever 'they' were) would take him on board the Sitri as a housekeeper with the potential for a promotion to butler, barkeep, even dancer or call-boy if he became popular with the guests and crew. If he wanted off, well, he would have to wait until they hit port again in a few weeks, wouldn't he?

	He was beginning to get nervous. Everything they told him he'd need was in the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Uniforms, food, and everything else would be provided. He walked up to the suited figures and cleared his throat. They were intimidating to say the least – the leftmost one was a vivid orange feline, with black stripes across his chiseled face that matched his jacket. The one beside him was feline too, but much leaner. His was a pale yellow speckled with small black spots. His visage was narrow, and his ears seemed too large for his face. Sen didn't quite know what to make of him – something exotic, for sure, but neither “leopard” nor “cheetah” seemed to fit.

	The tiger cleared his throat. Sen, still distracted with the tiger's cohort, jumped.

	“Sen?” The feline growled, his claws gripping a clipboard. The donkey nodded and swallowed hard. “You've got nerve showing up late. You're lucky the bus-boys are running behind, or I'd-”

	“Horsey!”

	Sen blinked. A miniature feline popped out from between the tiger's legs, dressed in a white sailor's skirt with navy trim.

	“Not now, Arza!” the older male growled again, shooing her back up the ramp. The kitten resisted.

	“But horsey, daddy! Can we keep him! Pretty please?”

	The tiger stared down his little girl, completely forgetting about the verbal tirade he was about to unleash upon his latest hire. He tried to hold his ground, but he was never a match for his daughter's wide, golden eyes.

	“. . . You win, Arza,” he surrendered, before turning back to Sen. “You're a lucky one, mate, Arza doesn't often take a liking to boys. Now get up there! Before I change my mind . . .”

	Sen nodded hurriedly. “Y-yes sir!” he stammered before rushing up the ramp. The kitten giggled, hugging her father's leg. “Yay!” she squealed, “Horsey!”

	The ship seemed even bigger on the inside, and even now it was abuzz with activity. Uniformed crew members of all sizes and species rushed this way and that, nodding with a grin as they pushed past him. It was unnerving, he thought, they all probably knew who he was already. He also noticed that a great many of the crew appeared underage, especially once he got off the outer deck and in the privacy of the inner halls. Little boy-cubs sported bow ties and tight black pants, little girl-cubs wore ribbons around their tails and knee-length skirts that hiked up as they skipped down the corridor. Some of them were leading older males and females by the hand. They winked at Sen as they passed, and the donkey shrunk back, unsure how to respond. He didn't want to stare, but he still found himself turning around, trying to catch a glimpse under those tantalizing tails as soon as they were facing the other way. He shook his head and tried to shake the naughty thoughts from his mind. He was a professional here! He had a job to do!

	After finally finding his spacious quarters, he immediately began to unpack. He found several uniforms in the closet; each one cleaned and pressed in the size he had given them. Inside the dresser there was a small book with intercom numbers for the ship's tailors, masseuses, barbers, butlers and just about every service one could imagine. However, fully half of the book was devoted to the ship's “companions”, each complete with picture, name, a short biography and a price list.

	Sen had to shake his head and make sure he wasn't seeing things. These “companions” were like nothing he had ever seen. To begin with, there wasn't a single one above the age of sixteen. Most weren't even into their teens, and some weren't even out of diapers! There was even a section dedicated to four-legged companions – including some more exotic animals that he hadn't seen outside of a zoo – feral lions, a resident pack of wolves, even a dolphin tank!

	He skimmed through the pages. the older ones had lists of 'services' they were willing to offer: “handies”, “blowies” and “quickies” were frequent finds, most of them charging an additional fee for services rendered in public – restaurants, poolside and the like. The more 'skilled' companions could be rented out for an evening, or even for a night. The ferals and youngest cubs were exclusively rented by the hour. The cubs were cheap, with a disclaimer reading that feeding and changing became the responsibility of the client for the duration of the service. Win-win, he thought, the kids got babysat, the crew got paid and the customers got a hardy, tight little toy for a night.

	The latter pages contained a map of the ship as well as a schedule for events. There was at least one event per night for the next three months. Most of them were dances or small shows featuring some of the ship's companion cubs. Occasionally there was a masterclass – “Bondage for Beginners”, “Finding the G-Spot” and “Pleasuring his Prostate” were some of the more interesting titles.

	On a whim, Sen flipped through the section again. As he thought – there she was: Arza, the captain's daughter, posing in a one-piece bathing suit that left little to the imagination. Those stripes really did go all the way up, he chuckled to himself. He whistled as he saw her prices – she was easily the most expensive of the bunch and even so, there was a polite reminder to schedule 'appointments' several weeks in advance to avoid overbooking.

	A knock on the door startled him. He slammed the book shut and shoved it back in the drawer. He was in no shape to see someone! He tried to adjust his pants and shove his erection out of sight before rising, pulling his shirt down and opening the latch.

	“Hiya, Horsey!”

	Sen felt himself flush. Not thirty seconds ago he was looking at this little tiger cub's pin-up in that exact outfit. “A-Arza!” he stammered, “What a surpri-ACK!”

	Arza grinned, her hand pushed directly against the donkey's junk. Sen tried to cross his legs.

	“You can't hide from me, horsey,” Arza giggled, slipping through the door and into his room, her hand rubbing against his groin, “I saw the way you were lookin' at me earlier,” she purred, “Daddy said it was okay if I 'tried you out'. Y'know, loosen you up a bit! Whaddya say?”

	Sen was stunned. This had to be a trap. Any moment now, Arza's father was going to appear in his doorway and rip him a new one for 'accosting' his little girl. He'd be thrown off the ship! He'd be thrown in prison! Still, all he could defend himself with was a pitiful “uh!”

	Arza pressed on, moving her hand from his crotch to his arm and leading him to the bed. “C'mon,” she insisted, clambering up to the bed and pulling one of her swimsuit straps away from her shoulder. Sen slammed the door. Arza giggled again. “Scared of being found out? It's okay, daddy already knows! He says what I do in my free time is my own business!”

	The donkey wasn't sure what to make of that. Again, he stammered, but he found himself sucked in. He sat down and watched as the tigress undid another strap and began to peel her top away.

	Sen's pants quickly became too tight. Arza stared and giggled. “Look at how big it's getting,” she marvelled, reaching down to give his meat a healthy squeeze. Sen gasped. “Relax, silly,” Arza winked, “I'm a professional. Or did you not see me in the book?”

	The miniature tigress finished pulling her top down and wriggled herself out like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon until she was completely nude. She was a sight to behold. The thin layer of striped fur around her body did little to hide the fact that she was incredibly fit – her chest was completely flat aside from two pink little nipples that blended in with her orange fur. She was almost completely devoid of baby fat, making her developing abs look even more pronounced. The hair on her legs was short enough that the donkey could see the tone of her legs beneath. The fur faded to nothing around her pelvic region letting the new arrival catch a peek of her pink little slit.

	Sen figured her physique was likely the result of years of swimming, or perhaps dancing . . . or 'other' things. He shuddered with anticipation. The things those hips could do . . .

	“Your turn,” she commanded, rolling off him and onto the other half of the bed. Without a second thought the donkey obeyed, pulling down his shorts and letting his length spring upwards. He heard the kitten draw a sharp breath when she saw it.

	“It's . . . so PRETTY!” she exclaimed, eagerly wrapping a hand around it his spotted shaft, “Nice and fat – it's just right!” Sen felt himself flush. He didn't think himself anything special down there, even when compared to non-equines, but being 'small' for a donkey clearly had its advantages, as Arza was so eager to explain. “The last time I serviced a horse he nearly tore me apart,” she grinned as she ran her fingers over his medial ring and cupped his flared tip, “And he never let me do this!”

	Sen arched his back as he felt something push through the head of his cock. She had shoved a finger inside his urethra! He gripped the bedsheets and grunted in bliss, almost overstimulated.

	“So stretchy!” Arza giggled, pushing her finger down the donkey's pisshole up to her knuckle. Sen gripped the quilt like he could fall off at any moment. His member clenched and throbbed, trying to push the intruding finger out. The motions only seemed to encourage the little kitten, who began bobbing her finger in and out. Sen let out a breathy, high-pitched huff, wondering if this was how girls felt when they got plowed. It was almost too much – even when he was playing with his own toys (some of them specially-made for this very purpose!) he was never this . . . eager. She was going to drive him over the edge in a matter of seconds if she didn't cut it out. He wondered if he'd even be able to cum with her finger plugging up the works.

	Finally Sen had to grab the kitten's hand to get her to stop finger-fucking him. “T-too much!” he huffed.

	Arza pouted, but slowly pulled out before making a lewd show of licking her finger clean. “Well,” she grinned, licking her lips, “we can't waste this gorgeous erection, can we? Hold still now-” The tigress climbed up on top of the donkey until she was almost straddling him, her pelvis precariously perched on top of his flared head. She pushed one hand down on his chest while keeping her moist lower lips spread with the other and pushed down until the tip of the equine's member was pressed between them. With a hand on each of Sen's shoulders, she pushed down.

	“Y-yyeeee!” Sen whinnied, grabbing onto the kitten's shoulders in return. Looking down, he saw that there was absolutely no way that he was going to fit. He was just too wide down there, and she was just too tiny to take him! But that bothersome fact didn't seem to stop Arza from trying. She started to bounce, lightly at first, and then with a little more determination. She stuck out her tongue and bit it as she started making headway, first fitting the flared head between her stretched lips before gradually working down the meaty shaft to Sen's medial ring.

	It felt like the donkey's shaft was being held in a fist. She bobbed up and down slowly but surely, her eyes rolling back as she felt more and more of the equine's junk push inside. It didn't take long before her tiny barbed tongue was lolling out of her mouth.

	Sen moved his hands from her shoulders to her waist. She was a frail little thing; looked like a strong wind could blow her away, which made her lower-body strength all the more startling. How could someone with hips that narrow squeeze so HARD?

	She started bouncing up and down before she got to the hilt, making little squeaking noises each time she took a little more of him in. That medial ring was grinding at some awful sensitive spots that her daddy couldn't reach, and the flared head was making him feel a lot wider than he actually was – which was something she loved. Her daddy was narrow, so she didn't get a lot of practice taking wide, pop-can-sized dicks.

	Arza reached down with one hand and started fingering herself as she bounced, the pads on her fingers reaching in alongside the slippery, spotted length and rubbing intensely against her clit. She shivered, knowing she could cum in no time at all, especially with the donkey pushing back with his hips. “Just like that . . .” she encouraged, “Keep it up, just like that! O-ohh! Yes!”

	Sen wasn't far off from finishing, either. Just the idea of fucking someone who was probably a quarter of his age set him off, and here she was, straight out of the magazine, taking initiative! He grabbed at her hips, keeping her from bouncing too far off in her excitement. A few seconds later she contorted her face and shrieked. Sen felt his lap suddenly soaking wet. He winced, wanting to cover either his ears or her mouth – man, could she scream! If he were anywhere else, he would be worried sick about getting caught!

	“Gonna . . . aah!” was all the donkey had time to grunt before thick, white seed surged through his member and splattered Arza's insides, dribbling down the sides of his cock and further matting the fur on his lap. Each time the tigress squeezed, more came dripping out. It was an absolute mess.

	The kitten collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily. “That was fun,” she grinned, picking herself up and kneading her claws, “You're a nice change from daddy! I might have to come back here some time!”

	Sen grinned like a fool. “Feel free,” he replied sheepishly. “Now what are we going to do about this mess?”

	Arza shrugged. “Call the maid, what else?” she answered curtly, “Give'r a tip and she'll wipe down more than just the sheets, if ya know what I mean!” Arza winked, slowly climbing off the donkey to roll onto the bed beside him. She sat up and staggered to her feet, almost like she was intoxicated. “I gotta meet daddy on the bridge before we cast off,” she muttered, putting on her bathing suit, “later, donk!”

- - - Day seventeen - - -

	Sen had just finished his shift in the bar when an announcement came over the loudspeaker. “Attention guests and crew,” boomed the voice, “We have been blessed with a unique opportunity on board the Sitri. In a few moments time, at least two crew members will be making their debut on the outdoor stage near the aft of the vessel! Please, come on down and enjoy our 'double feature' performance, the likes of which have never been seen on land!”

	Sen broke into a hustle towards the end of the boat. He wasn't far from the stage, one level down and maybe a hundred metres or so away. He could totally make it.

	He wasn't the only one making a mad dash for the performance. There were others sprinting alongside, hoping to beat the crowds, while a good number seemed to hang back, often with companions in tow. They were in no hurry – if they missed out, they had a backup plan. Sen didn't. So he ran.

	The dull thud of house music could be heard – no, felt – halfway across the ship. It was loud enough to overpower the voice of anyone not standing beside him, but not so loud that it hurt. The front rows were mostly full by the time he arrived. It looked like the show had partially started without him – there was activity on the stage and the occasional shriek that carried above the noise of the audience. There was a white-and-grey figure suspended a few inches above the stage covered by a particularly large wolf of similar colouration. The figure – a female, and an enormously pregnant one at that – was really getting into it, gasping and panting with each one of the wolf's powerful thrusts. It took Sen a few seconds to realize that the white on her body wasn't actually clothing it was wool, strategically sheared to look like a provocative bikini. Her body was cradled by what looked like a large swing, and the device allowed her to lean back comfortably but also left her arms and legs free, all of which were wrapped around her comparatively-sized lupine lover.

	“I can feel the knot swelling!” She cried out into her headset with a blissful smile, “Oh! My lamb's going to have nowhere to go but right onto your cock! Hurry up and tie me, you animal, I can't hold back much longer!”

	The wolf didn't seem to need the encouragement, but the crowd sure ate it up. There was almost nobody sitting down; they all filled the front mosh pit, practically climbing over each other to get a better view. Sen stood up on a chair a few rows back, interested in the scene but not quite motivated enough to enter the fray and risk bodily harm. It was just a show, he thought, there would be others.

	His eyes were drawn to the left side of the stage. There was another figure walking on, or trying to – he looked like he was dragging something by a rope, something very heavy. There was a bundle of leather over his shoulder, perhaps some sort of harness. The figure was a shaggy, stocky canine, likely some sort of northeastern hound. Sen could just make out the swear words on his lips as he tugged with all his might, nearly falling backwards onto the stage. The hound collected himself and tugged quickly one way, towards the rear curtain, and then forwards again in a zig-zag pattern. The thing he was pulling seemed to relent, and at last Sen could see what it was that was giving him such trouble: a feral donkey It was brown on most of its body, with white fur creeping in around its face and the bottoms of its legs.

	Sen couldn't help but chuckle. He was amazed it only took that long for the hound to convince it to do what he wanted. His kind – on two legs or four – had a legendary reputation for stubbornness. The hound reached to a pole on his left and tied the donkey's halter to it, giving it a pat on the neck and stepping around behind it, careful not to block the noisy spectacle behind him. He ran his hnd down her back leg and clipped something onto her ankle, running the strap along her belly and clipping it to the bottom of her halter, pulling it tight. He did the same with a second strap, restraining both the donkey's legs and severely limiting its mobility. To illustrate his point, the hound stood directly behind the donkey, gave it a smack on the rump, and watched as it struggled to kick without falling over. Sen saw something else too as it swished its tail angrily, it looked like a white bubble stuck to her backside. Now he realized why they were calling it a 'double feature'!

	The hound shook his jowls and put on a headset of his own, adjusting the microphone before he cleared his throat.

	“Pipe down for a minute, Hettie,” he scoffed to the ewe behind him, “It's my turn now.”

	“T-Trying!” she stammered, “But he's so – AH! - big!”

	The hound rolled his eyes. “Women,” he shrugged.

	The crowd gave a pity laugh. The hound carried on without missing a beat.

	“Tonight, we're here to welcome two very special guests to our lovely extended family! This stubborn jackass started bagging up last night, and we gave Hettie back there some drugs and a friend to help her out. Looks like they're doin' fine!”

	The ewe moaned incoherently.

	“We might need some drugs for our four-legged friend as well – seems her foal is as stubborn as she is!” He smacked her on the flank again. The mare's hind leg came up, but the hobbles again prevented her from punishing the hound.

	“Oh shit!” The ewe interrupted, “Ohhhfuckohshitohfuckhe'scummiiiiiiing!” She screamed incoherently as the feral canine pounded her and then went suddenly still, seeming almost to deflate. His job was done. “So . . . full” the ewe breathed, “I can feel . . . fighting for space . . .! Need to push!” she gripped her belly and grunted. “Ohfuckohfuckhurryupoutthere,” she warned, “As soon as he pulls out . . .”

	The canine emcee got the message. “We need to kick this show into high gear right quick,” he announced, “And get started before Hettie spills her lamb all over the stage floor. So while I deal with THAT mess,” he thumbed backwards, “I'm gonna get a lucky winner from the audience to come up here and have their way with the donkey and her little foal; maybe shake'm loose a little bit! Who wants a turn?”

	Hands shot up. The mosh pit, like some fluid, composite entity, began rippling as the goers jumped up and down, grabbing at the stage and trying to be the highest. Sen raised his hand, too, joining the masses. It might be fun doing a feral donkey, he mused, even though he had no expectation of actually being picked. Imagine his surprise.

	“You there!” The hound pointed, “With the ears! You wanna fool around with a four-legged woman, dontcha? Geez, you look so much alike you could be related! But there's nothing wrong with a little incest, right folks? We're all family here!”

	Sen was torn between jumping for joy and giving the emcee the finger. Still, he couldn't turn down the chance now that it was given to him on a silver platter! He stood up from his seat and marched down to the stage, giving the emcee a token handshake.

	“What's your name, son?” he asked.

	Sen hated being called 'son'. He wasn't that young anymore. “Sen,” he answered.

	“Sen?” The emcee repeated, “That short for anything?” Sen shook his head. “Well Sen, meet Raggedy Annie. Her partner's in the stables already for the night, but maybe that's why she's holding the foal in there so tight. Maybe a stiff equine cock can make her think daddy's home and loosen her up! Whaddya say?”

	“You sure it won't hurt them?” the donkey asked cautiously. He didn't think they would purposely put their prized 'actress' at risk, but he needed that extra reassurance.

	“Son,” The emcee replied. Sen rolled his eyes. “You of all folk should know how sturdy donkeys are! I promise she can take your worst!”

	That was all Sen needed to hear. He unzipped the front of his pants and pulled out his flaccid member, giving it a few strokes as he walked along the stage. He ran his fingers up the back of Annie's leg and under her tail, giving the white translucent bubble between her flanks a curious poke. It was filled with liquid but there was something solid in there too, like a water balloon with a rock inside. He pushed his fingers underneath it. There was plenty of room, and she was absolutely dripping wet. He certainly wouldn't need to worry about lube!

	Annie was short and stocky enough that Sen didn't need a stool. That lumpy bubble could be a bit of an obstacle, especially if she started pushing, but sen could (literally) work around it. He pushed the sac to the side and pushed his hardening member inside the opening.

	The feral donkey snorted at the intrusion, clamping down and giving the anthro's member a gentle squeeze. Sen shuddered. She was so wet and warm and accommodating in there it felt like being given a blowjob and having sex all at once!

	The four-legged donkey fidgeted, unable to move her feet to change positions. She couldn't kick, and the lead rope was too short for her to lie down. Sen tried to put her at ease by running a hand along her flank. He could feel her shudder each time his medial ring passed over her clit, each time his flared head dislodged the foal just enough to rub against some extremely sensitive spots deep inside. He took her in slow, smooth, almost romantic motions, trying to convince her with his body that there was nothing to be afraid of. Although, he reasoned, if she wasn't already pitching a fit trying to drop a foal under the bright stage lights in front of hundreds of people, getting railed by a stranger probably wouldn't unsettle her too much. She shook her head and snorted again, flexing her powerful inner muscles. She seemed torn between trying to coax him in and push the foal out!

	Upstage, Hettie had calmed herself down to the best of her ability, taking quick, deep breaths as she leaned into the wolf and ran her hands through his grey fur. She puffed out her cheeks and made high-pitched hooting noises as her belly visibly contorted.

	“Wow,” the hound exclaimed into his headset as he took an unapologetic peek, “If you keep stretching, that knot's gonna fall right outta there!” Hettie growled and kept her eyes forward. “Which do you think is larger, my little lamb, your baby's head, or that fat knot plugging you up?” Hettie still didn't answer, too focused on the traffic jam in her pelvis. She reached down and tried stretching her lips open herself, watching the knot strain from inside as the feral dog whined and turned around, clearly feeling something pushing against his overstimulated member from inside.

	“It's commmiiiiiIIIIIING” Hettie shrieked. The emcee pulled away and covered his headset as the sound threatened to feed back through the speakers and deafen everyone in the room.

	The was an audible pop as the knot was forced out followed immediately by a long, wet squelch as the body of the unborn lamb was literally dragged out along with it, backwards, up until the shoulders caught and the wolf finally managed to pop himself free of the lamb.

	Without thinking, Hettie reached down for the little half-born bundle and pulled upwards, unknowingly flexing the lamb's neck and delivering it safely into her arms. She flipped the wet, grey-furred around and gave it a deep kiss on the nose, clearing its airways and allowing it to make a piercing cry before she paused to spit out a gob of mucus onto the stage floor and give her newborn another passionate kiss, just to be sure!

	“Oh god, you're covered . . .” she sighed blissfully, pulling a rope of wolf-cum away from her baby's face and sucking her finger dry. “Mmm, fresh from tap!”

	The wolf also seemed overly curious about the new arrival, and took no time at all to begin sniffing and licking at the newborn's chest and neck. Hettie pulled the squealing lamb's legs up and gave the wolf access under it's little tail, access which the dog graciously accepted, digging its tongue around in tightly-curled wool matted by cum and amniotic fluid.

	“Look at that gape,” she marvelled, “You sure know how to use a little girl, dontcha, boy? Look!” She held the newborn aloft, pulling the crinkled umbilical cord to the side as so not to obscure the view. True to her word, the little newborn's lower lips were wide and swollen – easily enough to fit a finger!

	“She's probably getting cold,” the emcee interrupted, “let's get the two of you swaddled up and ready for the meet-and-greet afterwards, yeah?”

	Hettie nodded. “Give daddy a kiss, little girl,” she grinned, holding her lamb at arms' length towards the feral wolf. He licked the muzzle of the lamb eagerly, his tongue slipping easily into her open, squealing mouth. “Good boy!”

	Downstage, Sen was busy edging himself to the point of desperation. He was busy watching the scene beside him, trying not to focus on the warm, snug hole his member was nestled in. But each time the mare's womb contracted he felt the foal's slick rubbery sac rub against his cock, pushing out than sliding back in. Sen wasn't even moving – the mare and her foal were doing all the work for him!

	“How're ya doing with the old girl there,” the emcee nodded, “Gettin' anywhere?”

	“She keeps trying to push me out and then suck me back in,” he replied, “It's like getting a really slow, sloppy blowjob!”

	The emcee didn't seem pleased by the news. “She should have pushed both of you out by now,” he noted, “We might have to speed things up a bit, kay? Next time you feel her push, try pulling on the hooves!”

	Sen tried to obey, but the sac was too slippery. “Break the sac,” the emcee insisted, “get in there! Pull to the side, it might be caught on something!”

	The donkey did as he was told, tearing apart the thick, opaque membrane after some difficulty. He took the foal's ankles and yanked hard from side to side. He felt something give and almost fell backwards as the foal's head and shoulders quickly emerged almost into his lap. The half-born quickly shook the slime from it's nose. The emcee sighed with relief.

	“There we go, just ease it out now . . .”

	Before Sen could follow through, the feral donkey did the rest on her own, forcing her foal out into the world with wet, heavy splat. Sen was bewildered. It was a greyish, brownish creature, still enrobed by what was left of the amniotic sac. It lifted its head, opened its eyes and seemed eager to look around. Just born and already itching to get down to business!

	“The show's not over yet,” the emcee nudged, “Care to christen the little one, or shall I find a new volunteer?”

	Sen looked down. He was still throbbing. He saw what had happened to the little lamb, and he could only assume the same would happen to the little foal down here. He gave himself a quick jerk, still slippery and lubricated by the overabundance of fluid, and let fly right on the foal's muzzle. Several ropes splattered its face and the small creature quickly shook again, startled by the sudden wet impact. The emcee giggled and reach down to lift up one of the foal's legs . . . and was greeted by an organ remarkably similar to the one near its face.

	“It's a little colt!” he announced. “Did you know you were gay, Sen?” The crowd laughed. Sen merely shrugged.

- - - Day forty-one - - -

	There was a pause as Sen shuffled into the captain's gallery. Arza was on his lap, pawing idly at his exposed penis. Sen tried his hardest not to stare. He never did get used to her overtly inappropriate affections.

	“I need a favour,” the captain asked finally, rapping his claws on the desk, “An important one. Do you know anything about the strait we're about to cruise through?”

	Sen shook his head. Geography wasn't his forte.

	“It's controlled by pirates,” the captain continued, “Seafaring brigands that take passing ships hostage and try to hold them for ransom. I shouldn't need to tell you that if they try and sell us out, governments will get wind of what we do here on the Sitri and this whole operation will go under. Perhaps literally.”

	“And daddy won't get to fuck me anymore,” Arza cut in, pouting.

	“I've taken care to send a little 'insurance' their way, but they're not satisfied. They think I'm too soft, that I'll eventually just give myself up if they keep pushing. I need to push back, and I need your help.”

	Sen nodded. The captain and his daughter had already done so much for him, it seemed a no-brainer to return the favour any way he could.

	The captain leaned in. “I need to put on a show; one that will make them think that I'm just as brutal and merciless as they are. So here's the plan: I'm going to have my daughter 'raped' onstage,” he explained, “She's a good enough actor that she can fake the part, and she's talented enough to take whatever her 'rapist' dishes out. However, we both agree that you should be the one to do her on stage.”

	Sen blinked, still trying to take it in.

	“Arza trusts you, Sen,” the captain continued, “And you're big enough to make it look like you're hurting her. She refuses to have anyone else do the job.”

	The tiger kitten widened her eyes at the donkey and continued to pout. “The other horsies are mean,” she whined, “But you're nice! I like you best! Uh, other than daddy, of course!” She punctuated her sentence with a peck on her father's cheek.

	Sen sighed. Like the captain, he was no match for Arza's 'pwetty pweese' face. The captain grinned. “Good,” he replied without giving Sen a chance to actually answer, “Meet me on the main stage after dinner, seven o'clock sharp. We perform tomorrow night.”

- - - Day forty-two - - -

	Sen peeked out from backstage, trying to gauge the audience without being seen. He was in luck; they were too busy hooting and hollering at a rather gymnastically-inclined gazelle fawn doing her thing on the stripper pole whilst other servants caroused, danced and teased to the beat of the music, all for the pleasure of the pirates.

	The pirates were a surly, scruffy lot, comprised mostly of predators and scavengers from below the equator. He counted at least a dozen wild dogs and just as many hyenas in the audience, their numbers rounded out by a number of predatory felines. He could only assume that the lone male lion in the group was their leader. He had a teenaged bear cub hanging off one arm, a lioness on the other (presumably a mate) and a small lapine girl on his lap, clinging to his chest. The lion's mane was pulled back in tight, beaded dreadlocks. Most of the pirates wore beaten-looking leather and denim, and he everyone seemed to be wearing an overabundance of gaudy jewelry, even the males.

	At least they all looked like they were having a good time, Sen thought. Even the females were hooting and hollering, tugging at the thongs and g-strings of the boy-servants as they walked out with yet another round of drinks. But it wasn't enough to simply amuse them, Sen thought. They needed to blow them away, and that was his job.

	A harsh 'pssst!' drew his attention. Arza stood behind him, dressed in a way he had never seen her. A translucent purple veil hung loosely around her shoulders, leaving little to the imagination. Her loins were covered by a thin cloth that hung down to about her knees. It slid to the side as she walked, giving several second-long peeks at the tantalizing peach behind it.

	Sen felt his loins throb at the sight of her. She probably noticed, given the way she covered her mouth and chuckled. He wasn't exactly the poster child of conservative values either – He looking like something out of a cowboy pornography. A straw hat (with holes for his ears!) topped his head, an open plaid adorned his torso and a pair of ripped denim jeans hugged his waist. He didn't think much of them – they would be coming off soon enough.

	“Ladies and gentlemen . . .” the captain boomed over the microphone.

	“Get ready,” Arza whispered. Sen held up the pair of manacles that the captain thought he should use. They were only props, but they would hold firm enough without being uncomfortable. He clipped Arza's hands behind her back quietly and watched as she fidgeted.

	“ . . . As you are all aware, this ship – my ship – is free from the close-mindedness and crippling conservatism that plagues the world on land. I have told myself that I would do anything to please my cast and crew and grant their deepest, most forbidden desires, but there is one thing that I have denied them: the cherry of my own beautiful daughter!”

	The crowd roared and howled with glee. Sen started walking while Arza refused to budge, starting her act off-stage. The donkey gave a yank on the chain and she nearly fell over. She started to wail and protest, kicking her feet and scratching her claws against the hardwood floor. All part of the act. A rope was lowered from the catwalk, and the donkey gleefully tied it around the kitten's manacles and gave a thumbs up.

	At Sen's signal, the rope was raised, dragging the kitten off her heels and into the air. She kicked fervently. The crowd was eating it up! He bent down and grabbed one of Arza's ankles, lifting it into thee air and letting the audience know that there really wasn't anything underneath that loincloth. She kicked out with her unrestricted foot until the donkey grabbed that, too, spreading her legs wide apart and lifting her up with the aid of the rope. She didn't like that at all, and responded with a vicious hiss. The hyenas shrieked with laughter, chanting for more. Sen merely played it off, dropping the leg and giving the uppity kitten a light tap on the cheek with the back of his hand.

	“None of that, now!” he commanded with a grin, loud enough for the watchers to hear. “Yeesh, you're in a really bad mood. But I know what'll cheer you up!”

	The donkey slid his hand up her free leg and stopped right on her little peach, cupping it with his palm and pressing down against her clit. He felt her shiver and squirm against his body. He pulled her hairless lips apart with two fingers and spread her private parts directly at the audience. She put up a great deal of fuss and tried kicked with her leg.

	“Let go of me you ass!” she hissed, “When daddy gets here he'll rip you a new one!”

	Sen laughed, throwing his head back. “Didn't you hear the announcement?” he replied, pushing his middle finger between her lower lips, “He stuck you up here! He wants you to get raped!”

	Arza tried to close her legs and push the invading digit out. It squirmed around inside her like a serpent, curling and coiling against sensitive spaces that made her tremble with arousal.

	“S-stop!” she hissed, kicking against empty air. The donkey did no such thing, instead pushing his finger inside the little cub up to the knuckle and pulling out before jamming it in again, working up a rhythm and finger-fucking her in front of a noisy, demanding audience. She got right into it, her growls hisses turning into amorous, breathy sighs.

	Sen could feel moisture beginning to drip down the back of his hand and smear as his palm slid against her inner thighs. She was almost ready.

	“What a mess,” the donkey teased, “You're getting me all sticky!”

	“Sh-huh-hutup!” Arza struggled to reply through clenched teeth. Her fangs gleamed in the stage lights, and her flat chest heaved with every breath. She was only granted a momentary reprieve when her 'rapist' removed his finger from her crotch and popped off his pants, letting his own semi-hard equine dick pop free. He smeared the liquid from his fingers around the tip, mixing it with his precum before dipping back inside her for another application.

	Arza redoubled her struggles as soon as she felt the warm, throbbing meat between her legs. Sen just laughed, listening to her gasp each time the flared head hit her engorged little slit. It didn't look like it was going to fit, but the equine knew better than that!

	“Open wide,” he sang joyfully, spreading the kitten's striped legs almost horizontally before yanking them down and apart. There was a brief moment of stunned silence as Sen's girthy cock plunged between her lips. Arza seemed stunned, unsure of how to react while the sensation slowly sunk in. By that time, the donkey had already shoved his length in another four inches, past his medial ring. Only then did she start shrieking.

	With the silence broken, the crowd again erupted into sadistic laughter. They egged him on, denouncing the captain's daughter as a slut that had it coming. Sen could here them talking about the captain himself, too - that he was either as deranged as they were, or he had grown exceedingly desperate to gain their acceptance. Sen knew he had to take it up a notch to really convince them. He bent his own legs to pull out a little and then yanked Arza's thigh downwards, pushing their pelvises together. Arza shrieked, trying to kick away, but the donkey's grip held firm. He rolled his hips forward repeatedly, pulling the tiger kitten down so hard he could hear their hips slap as they connected.

	“No!” Arza protested in between thrusts, “No! Nnno! Nn-nno!” her protests grew weaker and breathier each time the donkey's medial ring rubbed against her clit. “Y-you can't . . .! Stop! Too mm-mmuch!” She kicked and bucked frantically but Sen held firm, getting his thrusts in whenever he could. He quickly found a rhythm, and Arza's mewling complaints let him know that she had, too.

	“Gonna . . . blow . . .” Sen huffed into Arza's ear. She shook violently and bit her tongue, her own nethers suddenly flooding with hot, slippery lubricant as she clenched down harder than Sen had ever felt.

	What happened next was an absolute mess: The first pump of virile donkey spunk coated her inner walls and painted her womb, filling the tiny space almost completely. The second barrage forced her midsection to swell, much to the audience's delight, although neither they nor Sen could tell if she was just sticking her gut out for show. The third volley came spewing right back out, soaking her legs and splattering all over the stage, as did the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth . . .

	Arza felt like the donkey was basting her brain with how far he was shooting inside of her. She tried to stutter something as her vision fluttered and she felt herself getting light-headed. She was rudely awakened a second later as the stage floor rushed up to meet her, the donkey apparently having undone the manacles without bothering to catch her. She rolled over and groaned, feeling something leak – no, gush from between her legs. She ached everywhere, but she had never felt so satisfied. She heard the roar of the crowd above the pounding in her ears. She looked up and saw Sen's spotted cock hanging over her, still dripping onto her torso. He had his arms spread towards the audience and his head held high like some pretentious statue. He heard him say something and look down, but she couldn't make out the words and she certainly wasn't coherent enough to form a response. So she winked and offered an exhausted smile. He winked back. They both knew the ship was safe - and who knew, they might even have some new paying customers next trip!


