Amber Lions
© 2015 by Strega

The Amber Lion


The lion figurine was a thing from another world, a magical creature now on a world without magic. Still, it found a way to sustain itself.


Amber Lion Statue It was little more than three inches tall, smooth, and translucent, a glass or crystal sculpture of a seated lion. The honey-yellow of its structure had occasional air bubbles and there was a dark imperfection in its center. The estate sale wanted fifty dollars for it, and under any other circumstance Randy would have tried to talk them down.

But he recognized, or thought he recognized amber when he saw it. He didn't dare wait to be sure and if he even took the time to look up amber prices on his phone it might be snapped up by someone else. He just grabbed it and took it to the little table with the cash box.

"Oh, that thing," the man running the sale said. "My uncle traveled a lot, he could have got that anywhere. I hate to sell it, but when he leaves without telling anyone and doesn't even call for a year, well, someone has to pay his back rent. He'll be pissed if he ever shows up…What do you suppose it's made of?"

Randy shrugged and passed over the fifty bucks. There were two types of yard sales: the ones where people were trying to get rid of stuff and the prices were good, and the ones where people were trying to make money. This was one of the latter. He paused only to buy a soda from the little girl selling them out of a cooler and got back into his car hiding a smile. If he was right about the lion he'd just made at least a couple of hundred bucks.

But back at his apartment, with the lion sitting in the sun on the windowsill and pictures of it already taken to post on Ebay, he found himself fascinated by the thing. The smoothness of it, the cunningly stylized mane, the tail wrapped around the four noble paws. In very short order he determined the amber lion was worth at least hundreds and maybe thousands of dollars, despite the blurry, cloudy inclusion at its center.

If that inclusion were an insect the thing would be even more valuable, but he couldn't make out what it might be. Perhaps a clot of brown-red dirt? There was no real shape to it as seen from any angle.

As he turned the lion in the sun to get different angles on the inclusion he noticed that even the underside was carved. The four paws had graven-in pads and the sculptor had even taken the time to shape balls and a short feline sheath. He had to smile as he put it back on the windowsill.

He decided to keep it until he found out more about it. He was sure it was real amber and searches for "amber lion figurine" and such got quite a few hits but only on "amber colored crystal" lions or sculptures that included a little chunk of real amber. There was nothing quite like his amber lion.

So he put it back on the windowsill and went to work and when he came back he admired it again and over the days and weeks he kept it painstakingly dusted.

A week after he got the statue, while handling it as he often did, he frowned. He would swear the inclusion in the amber was smaller. The pictures on his cell phone seemed to confirm it. It wasn't much smaller, though. Maybe he was imagining things.

Barry loved his lion figurine and he handled it every day and it wasn't until a month later, while looking once more at the photos he'd taken the day he got it that he became sure the inclusion was getting smaller. It was happening so slowly he didn't notice, just as the face in the mirror was imperceptible older each time you looked at it yet high school friends were dramatically aged when you ran into them years later. Only when he looked at the weeks-old pictures did he notice the difference.

Maybe there was some sort of slow chemical process still going on inside the lion. Maybe it wasn't amber after all. Randy shrugged and put it back on the windowsill. He'd long since decided not to sell it.

Then one day a year later, when the inclusion was just a blurry flyspeck in the amber, Randy came out of his bedroom and tripped over the full-sized lion sprawled out in a pool of sunlight on the carpet.

Randy let out a yelp of surprise as he hit the carpet and a broad padded paw pinned his calf to the floor. His eyes went wide as he saw the amber lion, still clear and honey-yellow and cunningly formed but three feet tall at the shoulder now. It loomed over him, darker streaks highlighting its translucent mane and muzzle shaped of frozen gold. Somehow it was flexible now and it stepped forward, one padded forepaw with carven amber claws pinning him to the floor.

Reflexively he kicked out and his foot bounced off a haunch strong and solid and yet yielding, as though the lion was clear solid rubber. It glanced back over its shoulder at the impact, not hurt, merely curious. With a low rumble not at all like a purr it pressed the paw harder against his chest and looked him over with golden eyes cut into a perfectly formed amber face.

Amber or not its fang-tips hung down below its chops and it was too big and strong to fight. Randy tried to calm himself and made soothing sounds as he rubbed its belly with his stockinged feet. His foot slipped lower and bumped against something and the lion let out a pleased growl. Randy's foot had slipped low enough to rub against its rubbery-amber sheath and balls.

With no better idea for keeping it from hurting him Randy put the ball of his foot against the rubbery hardness of its sheath and rubbed, and was rewarded by an immediate stiffening. The strange amber lion could get hard! It didn't take its paw off his chest but its eyes narrowed as he rubbed, and an amber tongue-tip protruded from its mouth. With eyes half-lidded it ground its swollen sheath against his foot and then with a sudden snarl it arched. Something like warm honey sprayed over his calf and suddenly the amber lion was gone.

Randy blinked and sat up, glancing around, but there was no sign of the thing. Wait, there it was! The little amber lion statue was back, sitting in the shadow his foot made in the puddle of sunlight. There was no trace of wetness on his leg or floor. Whatever spurted out of the lion had been re-absorbed when it changed back.

That couldn't really have happened, could it? Randy turned the little figurine in his hands and could barely make out the flyspeck-inclusion.

It all must have been a dream. He'd sleepwalked before and this time he'd tripped and fallen. It wasn't the first time he'd dreamed about the lion figurine but he'd sure never thought about fucking it before. Randy shook his head and set it back on the windowsill. Maybe he should sell it after all.

Vivid though the whole experience had been he was sure it'd been a dream and he put it from his mind. He was nearly late for work and didn't even have time for a shower. Throwing on his clothes he left the lion on the windowsill and there it still sat in the evening. Tomorrow was his day off and he'd put a posting online tomorrow to sell it or at least try to get a better idea what it was worth.

But the next morning he woke as something heavy leapt up onto his bed and his eyes snapped open to find the amber face and magnificent mane of the lion inches from his nose.

"Shit!" Randy rarely swore but he couldn't help it. A shaft of sunlight shone through a crack in the curtains and lit the lion, which was clear as honey and free of any inclusions at all. It was a great gold-yellow crystal thing and a warm glow spread as the sunlight diffused through it. Tangled in the covers Randy was even less able to fight it than before but once more it let out a low, pleased growl as he lifted the coverlet up with his toes and began to rub its sheath.

It could not purr but it made its pleasure felt by wrapping a paw behind his shoulder and forcing him to sit up. As it dragged him from beneath the covers it sprawled out atop his legs and pinned beneath its weight and all Randy could do was reach out and take the clear amber sheath in his hands. The lion immediately thrust itself against his grip and a pointed tip with golden barbs emerged from the sheath to rub against his wrist. The lion was complete in every detail, warm and rubbery and golden and horny.

With still no better way to pacify the beast Randy gripped the sheath and met its thrust by pumping his hands up and down. He'd heard that men with foreskins could jack off just with that and their hand and that's what he was doing to the lion. Low growls bubbled up out of its amber jaws as it thrust and a translucent paw wrapped around him to let him know the lion wanted him to keep at it.

It wasn't long before the tufted tail thump-thumped against the bed and honey-like goo spurted against Randy's wrist and chest. The lion let out a long chuff of pleasure as it came and the sticky amber cum adhered to Randy's chest, but this time the lion didn't turn back into a figurine. The great-maned head turned once more to regard him and Randy stared the amber lion square in the face.

"What are you? What are you really?" Maybe it could talk. Maybe this was all still a dream, but if it was real, what was the lion?

It was an amber lion, rubbery-flexible and strong, complete in every detail. It could growl and it could fuck and it turned out it could even eat.

The amber muzzle in front of him suddenly yawned wide and a paw pulled him in with irresistible force. Randy let out a startled cry muffled to nothing by the rubbery amber jaws that closed over his head.

The lion's forepaws hugged him close, far too strong to fight, and the lion thrust its head down over Randy's neck. He stared out through clear flesh as it swallowed him, kicking against its belly as smooth rubbery throat stretched easily to engulf his face. It worked its elastic jaws over his shoulders with little effort, rubbery fangs dimpling his skin without scratching.

It wasn't slippery inside. There was no saliva to lubricate his trip down the lion's throat, just smooth warm amber-rubber that stretched around him as he was swallowed. He couldn't hurt the lion, couldn't stop it, could barely even slow it down. It hooked a forepaw under his butt and stuffed him in to the hips with one long pull.

The amber lion was hungry and though he kicked and squirmed there was no way to deny it a meal. It had its jaws around his hips now and the amber muscles in its throat rippled as it swallowed. A great contraction in the clear muscles gripped him and pulled him in and bit by bit, still able to see his bedroom through an amber haze Randy was swallowed whole. His head arrived in a looser space that must serve the lion as a stomach and rubber fangs scraped over his knees as it tossed its head to gather in his legs.

The white coverlet pressed against Randy's cheek through inches of amber flesh and the sunlight from the window gave everything a warm honey glow as his feet were taken into the lion's jaws. The lion lifted its muzzle, jaws finally shut, and with two powerful gulps it finished its meal.

The warm glow was everywhere now, amber-gold and soaking into him. There was no gurgle of organs inside the lion, no thump of a heart, just the grip of the amber goo that encased him. The lion was rubbery-solid outside and gelatinous inside and as the warm amber soaked into his skin Randy could feel himself softening. He remembered the inclusion and how it had slowly disappeared, and one last time he tried to struggle free. The lion let out a long belch as he kicked, and Randy finally figured it out.

"I know what you are," he mumbled, his lips feeling somehow blurry already. "I know what you do."

The lion burped again, ridding itself of another air-bubble inclusion, and for Randy there was just the warmth and the amber glow as he was slowly absorbed.

For sale: Amber (?) Lion figurine. Found in abandoned apartment. Large blurry inclusion shaped sort of like a man, occupies about 1/4 of volume. Call attached number for pictures. $300 or best offer.

The Amber Lion 2


Treat the amber lion as a possession and you'll eventually end up in an amber stomach. Treat it well and chances are only your enemies will. The lion, it seems, was created for… Noncombat purposes.


Karen got the lion from Andrea as a gift, and an extravagant one. Though it was hardly more than three inches tall the seated lion figurine was made of amber and despite the large, dark and somewhat ugly inclusion in the middle of the figure it was worth several hundred dollars.

But Andrea didn't like it very much. She said she felt it was watching her and had planned to sell it, but then Karen's boyfriend Dieter dumped her, came back, dumped her again and generally treated her so badly that Karen ended up getting a restraining order against him. The whole affair so stressed Karen that she lost weight and her hair went stringy from lack of care. Plus, Andrea knew that Karen really liked lions. All golden and handsome they were, she'd say, and Andrea would joke about her sneaking into the lion pen at the zoo to "visit" the big male.

So though it had cost her nearly three hundred dollars she gave it to Karen and now it sat there on Karen's knick-knack shelf…when Karen wasn't playing with it.

Karen was only a couple of inches above five feet in height, slender, and (she said) lacking in curves. Her hips and breasts were narrow and small respectively and she could almost pass for a boy. It made it hard to get a boyfriend – Dieter had only been her second – and she'd brush her long brown hair and frown at herself in the mirror.

But she did have her toys, ones that buzzed and ones that wobbled if you shook them, and she had videos and books and posters and maybe a few of those videos involved things that'd be illegal in most U.S. states. Maybe one of the lovers in some of them had more than two legs. So it wasn't too surprising that one day she was looking over the little lion figurine and began to entertain certain thoughts.

It was her favorite possession in the world, the lion, and she handled it with the greatest care, keeping it spotless. She knew every nook and cranny of its cunningly stylized form from the cute triangular cat-nose to the balls and sheath the sculptor had bothered to carve into the underside. That one day she turned it in her hands and remarked to herself that a seated lion, from certain angles, resembled certain of her toys. And that line of thought led directly to her being in bed, naked from the waist down and the little figurine gripped tightly by the base.

It was smooth and hard but the shape of its mane and ears and muzzle gave it an interesting feel and now it was coated with a light sheen of lube. Carefully, and then with more vigor she rubbed it between her legs, turning it to find the most interesting angle of attack. At first she handled the three-hundred-dollar toy (and gift!) as delicately as she was able but the join between muzzle and mane was so intoxicating when rubbed against her clit that she soon lost all restraint. She was thrusting it against herself and rubbing the sculpted-in balls with a finger when it happened.

Suddenly something much too big to easily grip threw her hand to the side and Karen stared wide-eyed at the full-sized amber lion stretched out below her on the bed. Golden eyes looked past her breasts at her and Karen was just drawing in a breath to scream when the lion's tongue slid out and caressed her sex.

Her head went back in shock, for the amber tongue was covered with sharp but rubbery little hooks. She'd been licked by cats before but never there and never by a tongue as wide as her hand. She gasped and shuddered and whimpered as the lion firmly – but gently! – licked her pussy, tasting her, caressing her until she had to bite the pillow to muffle her scream of ecstasy.

When the last shudders had passed she looked down and the lion was gone, replaced by the little amber lion statue now clean of lube.

With shaking fingers Karen put the lion back on the shelf and went off to work at the legal office. It must all have been a dream, she told herself as she sent her secretary off to fetch the same file for the third him that morning. It hadn't really happened.

Then Dieter called and her excellent, if distracted, mood flew out the window.

"No I don't want to meet you for dinner," she snapped into the phone. "And you couldn't if I wanted to. Restraining order, remember? You aren't even supposed to call me!" Cell phones don't allow for a satisfying slam-down-the-handset end to a call, but she pushed the 'end call' button with savage vigor. Fuck Dieter! He'd burned his bridges.

And cranky but focused she finished her afternoon of work, picked up General Tso's Chicken on the way home (Andrea said she needed to put on a few pounds) and before she was done eating it the lion figurine was in her hand.

"It didn't really happen," she murmured, and turned it in her hand for the hundredth time. It was stylized, the mane broad and noble but lacking the grooves of a real lion's fur, the figurine smooth and growing warm in her hand. She turned it until she found the carved-in paw-pads and the amber balls and sheath and rubbed those gently with a fingertip. "I sort of wish you were real, little guy."

And then the figurine was too big to hold onto and the carven-amber head rose once more between her legs, but this time a powerful and gentle paw pulled her from the chair. Karen gasped and rubbed his smooth forehead as careful fangs lifted her skirt and ripped her silken panties away. With a puff of warm breath he blew the shreds off his muzzle and then the tongue was at her again.

The remote for the TV was just within reach, next to her cell phone, and it was the former she grabbed as the lion licked his golden chops clean of her taste. When the TV was blaring she grabbed his cheeks and urged him to step up over her and that's how the amber lion fucked Karen on the carpet of her living room. That's how she confirmed what she had heard about barbed lion-cocks and that's why her neighbors complained about the loud TV to her in the hallway the next day and that's why Karen wore a high-necked blouse the next day. The lion's raspy tongue had licked her breasts and throat to a rosy pink as he fucked her three times in a row before transforming back to a figurine.

After that Karen showed up at the office smiling and cheerful, for whenever she was in the mood the lion was there to attend to her needs and when she wasn't in the mood he was a statue. He was a no-maintenance boyfriend, loyal and loving, and he never hurt her except through the excesses of his body, for his tongue was naturally rough and his was cock bigger than a lion's had any right to be and equipped with backward-facing spines. Only the hard-rubber nature of his body made those tolerable but very soon Karen did far more than tolerate it. With no worry of pregnancy or anything worse than very interesting hickies she grew to know everything there was to know about his strange amber body just as he now knew how to make her moan with a single lick.

She didn't understand the nature of her lover but that didn't stop her from making him happy as well and the fact that they made so little mess helped too. If he transformed back into a figurine right after sex even his cum disappeared and sweaty sheets are easier to clean than semen-spotted ones. Assuming that was what came out of his dick. Karen had swallowed her share of it by now and it tasted nothing like a man's. He was an amber lion and his cum was salty amber honey, which made a sort of sense. The important thing was he couldn't knock her up and his cum tasted good.

So over the weeks and months her neighbors grew used to the loud TV or stereo and she slid foam between her headboard and wall to keep the noise down when her lover-lion had at her on the bed. He was big enough that the bed really moved. She replaced a sheet when his claws slipped out when he came and tore them. (He had the good grace to look sorry.) And when she was tired and sated she would turn the lion-figurine in her hands and notice now much more the inclusion had shrunk. It had been bigger than the figure's head when she got him and now it was hardly more than a flyspeck.

And then one night she heard glass break in the living room and she learned something new about her feral lover.

Karen's eyes flew open in the dark and she reached for her phone, then cursed as she remembered it was still in her purse. She didn't have a land-line phone any more or any sort of weapon – she'd thought about the latter but the lion had made her so comfortable in her home any sense of fear had fled. Suddenly she realized how helpless she was if someone broke in.

It was Dieter, of course. He had given back her key but he must have made a copy and she could hear him cursing drunkenly in German in the living room. The bedroom door burst open and the kitchen night-light lit the side of his grinning face. He was naked from the waist down.

"Remember me, katzchen?" he slurred. She saw he had a knife in his hand.

"I remember you, Dieter," she said, and she was calm, for her hand was around the one thing in her room which might protect her. She threw the amber lion and Dieter's eyes went wide with fear as the tumbling figurine was suddenly a full-sized lion. The light glittered off its smooth flexible hide and Dieter went down beneath its weight.

"Hold him, hold him!" Karen cried, for she saw the knife go into the lion's side. No blood came out, though the knife came out shining, coated with whatever made up the lion's innards. It did not seem to bother the amber cat at all and it did not react when the knife went in again.

There was a muffled cry as she turned on the light and it was her turn to boggle at the sight. Dieter had dropped the knife and pushed at the lion with both hands, for the rubbery-gold jaws that had wrapped around her crotch so many times were around his head. Karen watched with a mixture of fear and schadenfreude – a word she'd learned from Dieter, appropriately – as powerful forepaws pushed her ex-lover into the lion's jaws.

She could see him through the golden flesh, see his face contort beneath the amber as the lion worked its maw over his chest. He stared at her through the amber as the lion pushed his butt against the wall and swallowed him to the hips in one long slide. The lion's strong, elastic amber flesh made it perfectly suited to swallowing a man whole. Dieter never had a chance. Oh, if the knife had hurt it maybe it would just have killed him. Instead it lifted its head, and with a toss of its jaws Dieter was swallowed to the thighs.

She could still save him. She knew now what was happening. That imperfection, the inclusion, in the lion-figurine had been a previous meal, maybe someone that treated the lion badly. Over the months it had slowly digested its meal, and she probably helped that along but summoning the cat up for sex almost every night. All that amber cum had to come from somewhere, and in four months the dark spot had gone from more than head-sized on the lion to a mere speck. It must be hungry, yet it had never eaten her…because it was her lover.

What it would have done when it was starving she didn't know. Ask for food? Maybe it could eat something besides people. It had food now, though. Dieter kicked and squirmed but with a toss of its muzzle he was gone to the knees. She could tell the lion to spit him out, and it probably would. Karen said nothing.

There was a rapid knock at her door and she dashed into the living room, careful to close the bedroom door behind her. In a moment she was reassuring her neighbor. Everything was all right, she said. She just bumped into a lamp on the way to the bathroom and was so startled she cried out.

Hurriedly she returned to the bedroom, in time to see the end. Even now Dieter's shoes poked out from either side of the lion's mouth, and it sat there with its transparent belly squirmingly full of Dieter waiting for her to get there. Still it waited, until Karen nodded.

Then with a flip of its muzzle it got its jaws around Dieter's feet and with two heavy, wet gulps it swallowed him down. Beneath the amber the man still kicked, and the golden-clear flesh bulged with each movement, but there would be no escape. Solid as the outside of her lover was she could see from Dieter's struggle that its inside was more like gelatin. Gelatin that she now knew would digest a whole man, given time.

"Good boy," Karen cooed, and patted the lion on the head. It shifted its paws to let its fat belly spread out to each side, and as Dieter kicked it let out a long, low burp. It was even smart enough to muffle that, lest the neighbors hear.

The inclusion in the lion figurine's body was big again, bigger than when she first got it. At least a quarter of the volume of the little statue was a blurry dark spot that might resemble a curled-up man if you used your imagination. Karen licked her lips and tasted amber-lion cum, for of course it was only fair to reward her lover for being so loyal and protective. Dieter had stilled by the time she swallowed her mouthful of salty honey, and now her lover was in figurine form again.

She put the lion back on her nightstand until the next time she needed him. She understood the lion now. It could have eaten her on any of a hundred occasions and it must have been quite hungry by the time it ate Dieter, but it had never hurt her.

He wasn't quite her pet and she wasn't quite his master but there was a friendship, a loyalty. She trusted him and he trusted her not to hurt him in figurine form or give away his secret. She was the only one who knew about him and she would have been in his gelatinous stomach long since if he didn't trust and value her.

So. Karen smiled. She had a powerful, dangerous and vigorous lover. Not so different from many of those romance novels she read. Some of them even had werewolves or other monsters as lovers. She was living a fantasy.

Her hand reached out and stroked the little lion, drawing him onto the bed, and suddenly he was full sized again. There was a ponderous droop to his belly but no sign of Dieter in his amber body; somehow, his meal was hidden. Karen rolled onto her belly and the lion stepped up over her, rubbery-amber fangs brushing her neck ever so gently as he crouched to mount her. The bulge that was Dieter pressed against her back but her lover-lion knew how to get around that.

She'd have to find out if he could eat human food, and maybe it was time to let Andrea know. It wasn't nice to be selfish. That could wait. Karen gasped as barbed lion cock slid in, and bit into her pillow. Her lover knew to muffle his snarl when he finished, and for now there was just his low, rhythmic growl and hot breath on the back of her neck as he thrust.

The Amber Lion 3


Another Amber Lion comes into the possession of a merchant's daughter, who bonds with it in ways her father never expected.


At the join between the merchant's quarter and the district called Alltowne in Greyston, which practically everyone but city officials calls Monstertown, there is a tall marble tower. Like many another such it grows up out of a great warehouse, for the rich trading families liked to build their palatial homes atop their ownings both for security and for a few precious more yards of height above the 'little people' down below.

Below the ivory tower ran an alley called Cheap Street, best known for its run-down bars and its beggars. It was one day in the fall of the year that a beggar first noticed the honey falling from the sky.

It did not happen often, and there was rarely more than a few drops, and the salty amber fluid was soon seen as a sign of good luck. A beggar or passer-by would get a blob of it in their eye or hair and when they realized what had happened they'd show it around with a smile before eating it. It was thought to be a sign from the gods, or failing that, perhaps the drippings from a hive hidden in the wall of the tower. They'd have been considerably less happy if they'd known its true origin.

The merchant had a daughter, you see, and her name was Jenna. Her hair was coffee-dark and her eyes darker still, her face wide and her chin narrow, and she had the pleasant plumpness that showed she never lacked for food. Everyone agreed that she was quite a prize and negotiations had been underway for some time to marry her off to the scion of another rich family. There was one small problem: Jenna already had a boyfriend.

Now, that was simply enough remedied. The merchant had two of the gul wolverine-men in his employ as guards and the boyfriend was from a poor family. A purse of coins and a promise that if they ever saw him again he'd find out what the inside of a gul was like was enough to get rid of him. But Jenna knew about boys now and was unlikely to leave matters be, and if she grew pregnant it would bring awkward complications to what should be a straightforward business transaction. Romantic love was the province of romantics and merchant families had little truck with it. It interfered with profits.

So the merchant regretfully locked the daughter in the tower, which had a very nice apartment on the top floor. He visited her every day and she was well provided for, with a magically heated bath and other luxuries, plenty of books and toys (some rather adult, she being wise to these things now) and besides regular deliveries from the cook, a magical horn that delivered fruit and other food.

Yet still he worried that she would be lonely and hate him if he didn't get her some companionship. There were safely nonhuman sorts that couldn't get her pregnant, from the cute or handsome sort (such as one of the raccoon folk, a foxman or a Khardaki Lion man) to the less appealing (one of his gul guards or even a gnoll, say). But love was unpredictable. Interspecies pairings were common in Monstertown but it would interfere with the marriage he was trying to arrange.

Luckily the merchant had in his possession a magical device engineered expressly to fill the needs of a lonely recluse, and so very soon after locking his daughter up he presented her with the Lion.

"Now, daughter," he said at dinner that night, and showed her the little amber figurine. "This is a rare and magical device. It is, shall we say, made for lonely people." He coughed awkwardly. "It is very important you understand it. Read." And with that he shoved a scroll across the table and busied himself in his food, pretending not to notice the blush that spread down from her cheeks as she read the lovingly detailed instructions that had come with the Lion.

Very shortly thereafter her father excused himself, for the awkward silence had lingered and so had his daughter's flush. The very second the dishes were cleared away by the magical servant she was on the silken sheets of her bed and was rubbing the little Lion figurine's painstakingly sculpted-in bits.

"Attend me, O Lion," she said in her best commanding voice, and suddenly something much too large to hold in her hand was between her legs. The smooth little figurine was a real Lion now, amber of flesh and cunningly stylized. For all its angular mane and faceted face it was magically alive, and worshipful golden eyes looked past her belly at her as she reached down to stroke its smooth carven brow. She could see through its yellow-glass flesh and saw how its haunches lay sideways to its upper body even as its great-maned head dipped between her legs.

A rough tongue scraped carefully from the bottom of her pussy to the top and Jenna gasped. The Lion needed no instruction as to why she'd summoned it and she clutched at its somehow flexible amber mane and kicked the covers as a flush spread across her throat and breasts. The undemanding Lion let her direct its sandpapery tongue and by the time it moved slowly up her belly to her breasts and then back to her sex it was more than enough. Jenna let out a long shriek and clutched the Lion tight to her, only relaxing when the long shuddering orgasm was over.

When she finally calmed she found the Lion figurine on the sheets between her legs. Somehow it knew she was satisfied. Very carefully she placed it on her bed stand.

There was the briefest qualm of uncertainty as to the morals of it all. In other circles it would be a crime to be serviced by a beast, even a magical one. This was Monstertown, though, and interspecies couples were practically the norm. There'd be no qualm at all if the Lion could talk. There was a talking tiger and an intelligent griffon in the city guard and everyone knew they had taken human lovers!

In the warm afterglow of sex she was soon asleep and with ample free time – she saw her father for only about an hour a day – she didn't leave the Lion figurine on the table for very long. She was young and healthy and the very next morning she had the Lion in her hand.

"Attend me, O Lion," she said, and her faithful amber beast's tongue dipped between her legs. This time, though, she wanted more. She gripped the flexible mane in her hands and tugged the great cat up over her, and with a long low growl the Lion stepped forward to mount her. It placed its hind paws skillfully and as she reached down to guide it she felt the pressure of a cocktip already squeezing into her.

She met his growl with a moan and then a startled yelp, for his cock was as rough as his sandpaper tongue. Rather than a thousand little barbs it had a dozen or so larger ones and on its first withdrawal they scraped her insides. Her fingers dug into his tough amber hide and instantly the Lion froze. As her grip relaxed he very, very slowly eased out, his broad feline face showing concern in its inhuman way. The Lion was, after all, made for sex, and it was still learning her limits.

Jenna was startled by the barbs but they were rubbery enough not to cause much pain and when her fingers dug in again they pulled the Lion back down atop her. As he thrust and paused, waiting for her approval, she grew accustomed to the mixed pain and pleasure and soon he was arching his back and meeting her moans with long growls of lust. He was as polite a lover as one could ask for and it was not until she trembled on the verge of climax that he snarled, tail thumping the sheets. The sudden jackhammer thrusts that accompanied his orgasm drove another shriek out of her and she hugged the smooth, warm amber Lion tight as she too came.

"Well," she murmured afterward, as a rough feline tongue was cleaning her sex, "I guess you do cum."

That made her curious. Did anything really come out of the Lion? If so he'd shot it deep into her, and licked off any residue. There was an easy way to find out, and with the warm smooth Lion-chest between her legs and his tongue rasping away at her sex she leaned down for her first mouthful of Lion cock.

His penis was normally covered like a dog's, though his sheath was shorter, but his shaft readily sprang forth when she gripped the rubbery sheath and stroked it. She was surprised to see how human it was, barring the barbs. Then again, he was meant to fuck humans. The wizardess responsible for the Lions had really, really liked those big cats, but she was as human as Jenna. He was hung about as well as her boyfriend and that seemed a bit small on his frame, though it had certainly fit into her properly.

"You seem like you should be bigger, O Lion," she murmured with a smile and then jumped when he suddenly was. His amber shaft swelled both in length and girth between her fingers and she was positive he hadn't been this big when he was in her.

"Wait, too big. Little smaller," she said, and grinned as her lover obliged. Then with one hand wrapped around its base and squeezing him she leaned down again to suck, and soon enough she answered her first question. The Lion snarled warm against her sex as his tail thumped the bed, and something like warm salty honey spurted into her mouth.

"Umph." Jenna considered the taste for a moment, then swallowed. "You are a tasty Lion, yes you are!"

The Lion grinned at her past her hip and went back to licking, and it wasn't long before she whimpered once more.

"So, how is your, er, companion working out?" asked her father at dinner. He'd been pushing his food around the plate for a while. Jenna knew that he didn't like keeping her locked up, but business was business.

"Fine," she said with a little smile. "The scroll says some Lions can play games. I'm going to see tomorrow."

"Good, good," her father said. After another long, awkward silence he continued. "Harpis house says they'll talk about the marriage after the Keoland trade treaty is signed."

"Good." It was her turn to push the food around. "Harker Harpis is…well, he's ugly, father."

Her father sighed, and soon after that he left. The next morning, after a brief, exciting bout of sex lying on her belly with the Lion crouched over her licking her nape and humping enthusiastically she set about seeing if he really could play games.

And he could! He pushed Draughts pieces around with a claw, clumsily played Fox and Geese (and preferred to play the fox like nearly everyone) and given some way to prop up the cards, even knew how to play simple card games.

It was during the course of playing that she discovered there was a limit to how long he could stay a Lion. Right in the middle of playing a card he was a figurine again, and she wasn't able to get him back to full size until the next morning. She raised that subject at dinner.

"He plays games," she said, "But he can only be a Lion for a few hours. It's all right if I just want a, a companion, but if I want him around as a friend…"

"I'll see what I can do," her father said, and the next morning she discover that the Lion was hungry.

It could have ended very badly if he weren't so loyal. She was on her back with his muzzle wrapped around her groin and her knees up against her chest when she felt his jaws begin to ease forward. He laid off licking her sex for a moment and she looked down as he twisted his head from side to side, slowly forcing his way further over her. The rubbery grip of his jaws stretched wider and she remembered the section on feeding in the scroll. Her Lion was swallowing her whole.

She drew in a breath to scream as she felt the rubbery amber gullet expanding over her rump and the Lion flinched. It blinked once, seeming to come back to itself, and disgorged her groin with a last apologetic lick to her thigh.

"Oh, honey," she said. "I forgot to feed you! I'm so sorry!" It'd been right there in the scroll too – how to tell from looking at the figurine if the Lion would be hungry. And the figurine had been clear, almost without a speck or imperfection. It must be starving!

"Next time tell me," she said, and went naked into the main room to root through the cornucopia. The Lion followed soft-footed and nosed at the various foods, turning down the fruit but gulping down the dry sausages the horn provided. In the end she had a pile of fruit that would not go back in and an amber Lion with half a dozen large sausages floating in its middle. She watched, fascinated, as they gradually became blurry around the edges. Within a few minutes they were gone, absorbed into the Lion's gelatinous interior.

"What a strange cat you are," Jenna smiled. "Are you still hungry?"

The Lion couldn't speak and didn't always seem to understand words, but this time it nodded. She sent a series of notes to the kitchen via her magical servant saying: She wanted a ham. Yes, a whole ham. No, you don't need to know why and finally No, it doesn't have to be hot.

Shortly thereafter she watched the Lion work its rubbery jaws easily over a fifteen-pound ham and it was still floating inside the Lion, gradually becoming hazy around the edges, when she stretched out on her bed and was mounted. Even as he thrust she instructed him and it was while spitted by a barbed Lion cock almost, but not quite too thick or long that she had her first orgasm of the day.

For a month she and the Lion were best friends and lovers. He was never demanding, yet always ready when she wanted sex and there was nothing she might demand that he would refuse. He would lick her for an hour, wherever she liked, if that was all she wanted. His rough tongue could he applied with remarkably delicacy or firmly enough to make her yelp and if she wanted his cock she could have it as many times or in whatever position she wanted. She only had him four hours a day or thereabouts and she broke that up into irregular blocks and if she didn't feel like having him around at all she could leave him as a figurine the entire day without so much as a reproachful look afterward.

Then one evening at dinner her father presented her with a collar. It was designed to make a spell on a pet, war animal or mount last until the collar was removed, he said, and it might let the Lion stay in its large form. It might also keep it from swallowing her if it got hungry again, Jenna thought, but she hadn't told him about that and wasn't about to now.

She tried it on the Lion that evening and nestled up against a warm, smooth amber cat. His slow breathing lulled her to sleep in minutes and she woke feeling more secure than she ever had in her life. There in bed with her amber lover she celebrated by exploring his flexible body, and learned new things.

His sheath was so flexible she could slide her hand in and masturbate him from the inside. That earned her a shower of amber Lion cum that stuck to her naked body like glue. Afterward, as he licked her clean, her hand slid right into the hole the warm goo had come from. All the way to the elbow she went without the Lion protesting and afterward the same hand slid into his pussy-shaped asshole. Nothing ever came out that hole so she wasn't surprised that her hand came out as clean as it went in. From in there she could feel the warm gooey innards of the Lion through the walls of his rectum, their slow currents massaging her arm. It would digest her if that goo ever came in contact with her body but that seemed possible only if he swallowed her.

Or was it? She had finally figured out how to put fruit back in the cornucopia and after a game of Draughts with the Lion that she won she sorted through the horn's contents until she had an assortment of large sausages. That attracted the Lion's attention but she pointed at the floor until he sprawled out and he did not complain, in fact rather seemed to enjoy it when she slipped one as long as her arm into his ass.

He lay there with the tip of his penis exposed as she ran the sausage in and out, the Lion growing hard and Jenna grinning all the while until she gave it a last shove and let go. She could see the thing lying intact inside the amber cat until his oddly shaped anus pulsated and the sausage began to move inward.

Her arm had been perfectly safe inside the Lion and yet she saw the sausage sucked in, and soon it was blurring around the edges as it was absorbed. So: he could eat with his ass, but wouldn't pull her in. Or couldn't. She'd take the first over the last since if the Lion ever decided to hurt her it had many ways to do so.

Next a sausage went into his cock, and sure enough if she left it there long enough it was sucked in. Rather to her surprise it ended up in his amber scrotum and she was able to keep it from floating into his body by pressing her hand against the fold of amber skin that separated his balls from his body. Two more sausages followed and without protest the Lion allowed his scrotum to be bloated larger than her head. Even there the sausages began to blur, and shortly thereafter his balls were full of a gallon of amber goo and Jenna just had to see what would happen if she masturbated him now.

It was violent. It was explosive. He was already hard from all the play and two minutes after her hand and lips went to work the Lion let out a roar and a twenty-foot stream of cum shot all the way to the balcony. Jenna blinked and thanked the gods she'd gotten out of the way as he tensed. That would have hurt!

The long stream of amber goo clung to itself in sticky loops and strings and she was surprised to see it being drawn back into his cock. With a lazy flip of his tail the Lion rolled to his feet and walked along the stream, sucking it back in until all that remained were a few stray gobbets he licked up.

"Aren't you the odd cat," she said again, and watched his balls shrink down to normal as the goo made its way into his body. Whoever made the Lion must really have liked neatness to make it so able to clean up after itself after a messy game.

It inspired a new game. Every day when she noticed a bird fluttering around the balcony she'd call Honey over and pack sausages down his cock until his scrotum was swollen. Honey the amber Lion never complained because he knew what would happen next: her hands and mouth would go to work until he'd roar and she'd direct a hose of amber cum at a bird.

Some always splattered over the balcony rail and some of that escaped its natural clinginess and fell to the street below, provoking the occasional shout of surprise and making her giggle. The rest the Lion would suck and lick back up, just as he painstakingly licked her clean when she packed him to a lesser degree and a quart of amber cum exploded against her body. She'd be stuck in a web of glutinous amber until he carefully licked and pulled it clear, and then there'd be hardly a drop on her. It stuck to itself better than it stuck to anything else.

It went on for months. Jenna, though still with no one to talk to but her father, had never been happier. She had Honey all hours of the day and night now and he was the best companion and lover a woman could ask for. As always he made no demands but he could sense her moods and now he often initiated their encounters, though he would back off in an instant if ordered. There wasn't a spot in the apartment where they hadn't made love and he was her back support when she wanted to read, her bed if she wanted to nap on his warm body, and her opponent if she wanted to play a game – though she almost always won, and that was good too.

The game of firing Lion goo at passing birds was always fun but the random nature of it meant that she'd never gotten a good solid hit. Oh, many a bird flew off with amber cum on its feathers but it was not until she moved the start line a few yards closer to the balcony that she got a good hit – and then the result was somewhat horrifying.

It was a seagull, a large bird, noisy and thieving. Her least favorite of all the ones that visited her apartment. The moment she heard it squawk she grabbed a sausage and Honey obligingly hiked a leg so she could stuff it into his penis. She kept the bird busy with scraps of bread as she loaded up the Lion and having seen the passive Lion before even Honey's presence didn't scare it off. There was enough time for the sausages to dissolve into goo and the Lion let out a low anticipatory growl as she kneaded his cock. The seagull started upward as Honey finally let out a snarl but Jenna had anticipated that and the bird flew right into streams of Lion cum.

It stuck to the bird like glue and the squawking seagull dropped back to the balcony, wings bound by amber-yellow strands that snapped them back together as the bird tried to gain height. When it flopped back to the tiles it stuck in a pool of Lion goo and about then Honey rose to his feet, pacing up the trail of cum with no special urgency in his stride.

Jenna's eyes went wide as she realized what might happen but she loathed seagulls in general and this one in particular and didn't call the Lion back. Pace by pace the Lion approached the bird, his cock sucking the goo back in until he loomed over the bird. He could gobble it up in one bite but he stepped over the struggling bird and Jenna covered her mouth in horror as the cum was sucked back into the Lion's cock and the bird went with it.

There was a terrified squawk as it was drawn upward into the rubbery sheath, which expanded like a flower to let it in. Big as the bird was it was no thicker than her arm and it was no surprise that the Lion's cock devoured its flapping meal without incident. Moment by moment there was less of the bird outside the sheath than inside as like a serpent it swallowed its prey whole and finally there was a white-feathered shape squawking and struggling in the prison of the Lion's swollen scrotum.

Jenna was not there to keep the cat's internal fluids from moving and the seagull drifted into the Lion's body, struggling in the amber goo even as it began to blur around the edges. Honey lapped up the last stray spots of amber cum and ambled back to rest his forehead against her shoulder. She couldn't take her eyes away from what used to be a seagull being absorbed into her lover's body.

She realized now why Honey had so carefully pulled the goo from her body the few times she'd taken a full spray from his sausage-swollen balls. He'd been making sure she wasn't sucked in.

There was nothing left of the seagull but a dissipating blur of dissolving feathers but she still giggled when Honey's sheath burped. That had never happened before but birds apparently carried more air than sausages.

After that the shoot-the-birds game happened less often and Jenna aimed to miss…usually. Another seagull or three and a few pigeons were sucked in and absorbed as autumn went on. The sausages and the occasional bird were more than enough food for Honey and he even grew a touch plump.

It was an idle thought, but one afternoon she walked Honey to the balcony. There was a minor magic here which blunted noise and made the balcony look empty, presumably to keep her from calling for help if she ever decided to escape. It also meant no one could see her point across the street and look down at the huge amber cat seated next to her. He looked at her, looked where she was pointing and nodded. Nothing came of that…at first.

Later, after the fall merchant faire that she attended as a matter of course (and was closely attended by her father) he broke the news. As of the first of the year plans would begin in earnest for her wedding. It was expected to fall on the spring equinox, a day of good omens for nuptials.

Though outwardly positive, Jenna wasn't any happier about the prospect of marrying the ugly son of a merchant master and becoming a business matron and bookkeeper for the rest of her life. Plans that had been just wild fantasies became more real as she decided to ready herself for the coming event. She asked for and received a variety of cloth and sewing gear, purportedly to design some of her own clothing for the wedding. This was provided even though a professional would likely make her dress, for the talents of a seamstress were useful in married life.

Days later at a dinner her father boggled at Honey, who was outfitted in a rather clumsily made but very frilly maid outfit. "What's…what's the meaning of this?"

"Oh daddy," Jenna smiled, "I was just practicing, and you know, costumes can add…variety."

"Forget I asked," her father said, and after seeing the Lion in a scanty and very sexy leather outfit a few days later no more was said of her hobby. Jenna continued to receive supplies and even tutoring in sewing. For a change no chaperon was provided both due to the protective presence of Honey the amber Lion and her upcoming nuptials. There was less need to shield her now that firm plans had been made.

It was of course understood that Honey's…companionship duties would be greatly curtailed once the wedding happened. Not necessarily eliminated, since merchants are busy men and a "friend" who wouldn't produce awkward illegitimate heirs was useful. In fact Harker Harpis already knew about the Lion and had insisted the amber cat be part of the deal.

Jenna frowned. That's all it really was, wasn't it? A deal. All business. A business she wanted no further part of. And she didn't trust Harker. She suspected he was the jealous type who would destroy Honey's figurine in a fit of pique.

She still had friends in the house and one of them got her a fairly close copy of the figurine in amber. It wasn't magical, but maybe she could trick Harker into shattering it instead if it came to that. She hoped it would not; she was almost ready.

But time waits for no woman and she was woken by Honey starting awake in bed. She blinked awake to see the amber cat, ears back and eyes narrowed and a low growl coming from deep in his throat.

She knew what it would be. Not everyone approved of the upcoming merger of the Wheeler and Harkin families and her apartment in the tower was no great secret. Someone, probably a rival family that wanted to marry a daughter to Harker, had sent an assassin.

Honey was already at the door waiting for it to open and Jenna rushed over to his side. There was a lock but it was meant for privacy and wouldn't keep out a determined intruder.

Could Honey defend her? He was big and strong and the soft claws and fangs that tickled her could be hard and splinter-sharp too. He was, after all, a Lion, but if the intruder knew about him…Honey might be hurt! The scroll said that killing the Lion wouldn't destroy the Figurine but Honey had been a Lion for months now. Who knew what might happen? Even if she survived, if Honey died defending her she wasn't sure she wanted to. He'd been her companion for half a year now and she was close to the Lion in ways her father never anticipated.

"How many?" she whispered into the Lion's ear, not really expecting a response, and was surprised when he held up a paw with one pad extended.

Somewhere in the apartment was the assassin, probably looking under furniture for her right now. It was pure luck he hadn't tried to get in already. When he got in it would be hand to hand – wait!

Jenna had a sudden idea and motioned Honey to hold the door shut. Once again the Lion understood surprisingly well and reared up against the door, broad amber forepaws wedged against it. Jenna rushed back to her bed, and the table beside it. These days there was always a basket of sausages there.

Honey grunted in confusion as, just as the first thump on the door signaled that the assassin had worked out where they were, Jenna ducked down next to him and stuffed a sausage into his cock. The Lion gave her a look that very clearly said "Is this really the time, dear?" but made no complaint as she stuffed more in, kneading his balls in the way she'd found would speed their dissolution and as fast as they were converted to goo she fed more in, all the while pressing her hand against the skin between his amber balls and his body. His scrotum swelled larger than she'd ever seen it and he was already hard when she started pumping his cock with both hands.

Honey was a smart cat and knew what she was doing and as his growl rose and rose toward the unstoppable messy climax he shifted his hindpaws further from the door. As his snarl built toward a roar he jerked his forepaws back and it flew open. For just a moment the black-clad man outside gaped at the reared-up Lion and the woman furiously masturbating it and then he disappeared in a great gush of amber cum.

Honey's shuddering roar was accompanied by what must have been three or more gallons of ejaculate and streams of it sent the assassin stumbling backward. His foot stuck in a pool of goo and he thumped to the floor, so thoroughly coated he could only wriggle and grunt in protest. He was firmly stuck to himself and the floor and his sword was glued to the floor out of reach. It had worked better than Jenna has hoped.

"Honey, we have to get out of here," she whispered, already digging through a trunk for the products of her seamstress practice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Lion's tail flick as he stepped away from her and she somehow knew what she'd see as she turned around.

Honey was a tidy beast. Nothing ever came out of him except the amber goo, sometimes as lubricant on his tongue or holes and more often as gooey amber cum. And when that came out of him, he seemed compelled to clean it up, licking small quantities up or, if there were a lot of it…

He paused a step from the struggling assassin and looked over his shoulder at her. Already the trail of goo from the bedroom to the black-clad man was gone, sucked back into his cock, and strong gluey strings of it hung down from his sheath to the man's face. Only the eyes were visible beneath the clinging amber cum and black mask and they looked past Honey's balls with a pleading expression as the strings of cum began to pull him upward. He knew or suspected what was about to happen as the Lion's sheath opened for his face.

Honey waited, though, looking over his shoulder at her. He'd never eaten anyone in her presence before and she was his owner. If she told him to leave the goo where it was the assassin would survive…until the guards finally arrived, anyway. That was what decided Jenna. The guards would kill the man as surely as Honey. She met the Lion's eyes and nodded.

The assassin let out a high-pitched shriek as the strands of Lion goo went tense once more and the open flower of sheath swallowed up his face. Or her face, rather. As Honey's sheath stretched and pulsed, devouring the assassin, it pressed the black robes tight to her flesh. By the time the woman's face was peering desperately from within the Lion's balls the sheath sucking up her torso had highlighted her breasts beneath the elastic amber.

It was horrifying, but it was also necessary. Honey let out a groan as his cock sucked the woman in, aroused and stuffed too full of his meal to cum. Suddenly Jenna was there at his side, plucking a dagger from the belt of the assassin before it too was sucked in. The gluey cum separated reluctantly from the tiles, coming off in one long net of strands that bound the assassin too firmly for her to do more than wriggle. Jenna liberated a coin-purse from her belt as the relentless suction pulled the assassin in past the hips.

Honey's balls swelled past all previous limits and showed no signs of bursting but the desperately wriggling assassin was bound for a gooey fate deeper inside. Without Jenna's hand to bottle up the doomed woman inside the scrotum she was moving through it into the Lion's body. Through the thick amber hide and glutenous golden interior Jenna could see her struggle even as the mask dissolved away. She was a scarred and homely woman yet shapely of build and Honey's body treated her just as it had the sausages, ham and birds. Like the seagulls and pigeons the assassin was still struggling even as he began to absorb her. Her clothing was the first to go and then her skin blurred, and Jenna was happy the absorption blurred her outline rather than exposing blood and bone. It was digestion by any other name but at least it was tidy.

Honey let out a low growl of lust as the legs were taken in. The retractive force of cum returning to his body sucked the assassin in faster and faster, until with a long slurp there was just a pair of kicking feet protruding from his swollen cock. New amber cum dripped from his arousal even as the old was sucked in along with the woman and Honey growled deep in his chest as the bulge of kicking feet moved into his cock. He had swallowed the assassin whole, just as Jenna knew he would, just not with his mouth.

Jenna couldn't leave her lover so pent up after he saved her and the grip of her hand around his shaft was met with an instinctive and uncontrollable thrust. Honey was so aroused that after only a few snarling thrusts he came, spurting amber cum on the floor even as the slowly blurring form of still-struggling assassin was being converted into more. Without a packing of sausage or woman in his balls his ejaculation was back to its usual modest volume, and he licked it from the floor as Jenna once more dug into the clothes chest.

"No," she told him as he stepped toward the assassin's sword and its coating of amber goo. "Leave it, I have an idea." With a last reluctant glance toward the puddle of goo he returned to her side.

She was happy to drape the cloth across his broad warm back. The assassin was still now, but absorbing that much meat and bone into his goo took time. The dark blue cloth covered the horrid sight of her dissolving into the Lion. With the speed of much practice she dressed Honey: a hood for his noble amber mane, folds of drapery for his back and flanks and even leggings for the parts of him that were still exposed.

There'd been bubbles in his amber after his meal of assassin, and eventually he belched twice. The first came from his muzzle, for all holes led to his gooey innards, and the next was a long hornlike burp from his sheath that made her smile despite the cause of the belch. The assassin would have a tale of woe to tell in the afterlife: as she was absorbed, the last thing she heard was the burp from the cock that swallowed her.

As quickly and thoroughly as she could she dusted Honey with makeup. It only took a little to cover his amber and turn it dusty opaque gold. It took more time to darken her own face but just a moment to arrange the white wig.

Finally the product of her leatherworking, a "costume" piece her father never saw. The saddle was thick and padded and strapped tight behind Honey's shoulders.

The guards should have been here fifteen minutes ago, before the assassin found her and long before she was sucked into Honey's cock. That they had not shown must mean the woman had disabled the magical alarm on the balcony, and that was good news. Jenna grabbed the pack she'd made for just this occasion and stuffed it with carefully selected valuables including the cornucopia, those of her jewelries that to her eye were generic enough to sell without being instantly identifiable as belonging to the family, and the assassin's coin-purse.

There was one last thing. Near the gooey assassin's sword she broke the amber figurine her friend had provided. With any luck the amber "blood" and broken lion figurine would convince the family that Honey had died defending her, and they would look for a kidnapped woman, not a woman and a Lion.

"Now, dear," she said as she climbed into the saddle. Honey stood stock still as she strapped herself in and then began the riskiest part of the endeavor. Honey paced to the balcony, measuring distances with his keen amber eyes and nodding as once again he decided he could make it. Back to the other end of the long central room and then after a muscular sprint he sprang silently into the night with Jenna clinging to his back.

It was only twenty feet across the street but twenty feet down as well, but her guardian Lion did not fail her. She gripped the saddle and muffled all but a squeak of fear as they landed square on the stone roof of a ratty apartment building, then leapt onto the tiles of a ratty bar, to the top of a wooden hovel which creaked and swayed and with a grunt Honey came down in the street. A beggar started drunkenly to feet at the sight of the nobly outfitted Lion and its dark elf rider. "M'lady", he mumbled as he made way for them. Big cats were not common mounts even in Monstertown but they were not unheard-of and anyone wealthy enough to own one was not to be trifled with.

If questioned later the beggar would describe the blue and argent garb of the Lion and the darker robes of the woman and that would lead right to a Drow noble house not even the wealthiest merchant would want to provoke. By the time that false lead was chased down she'd have reversed the Lion's garb and her own and clad in different colors she'd be out of the city. She had plenty of food, a well fed mount, some coins to spend without selling any jewelry for a while – she patted Honey, the repository for the helpful assassin's remains – and once she did find a safe place to sell some, she'd have more than enough money to pay for a long-lasting appearance change illusion on herself and the Lion.

She was well educated, spoke several languages, had been tutored in business, knew mathematics…it should be easy to support herself in some small town. One distant from Monstertown, and tolerant of eccentricities. They'd have to accept that she already had a lover, for one thing. Jenna smiled as she rode down the streets, halfway to the city gate already, and leaned down to kiss Honey's ear. After all, why would she need a man when she already had a Lion?

Amber lion figurine addendum


Quick writeup of the magical lion figurine. It's even kinkier than we thought!


Amber Lions

Amber Lion figurines were created by the arch-mage Arda due to her fixation with lions. (She later created the Khardaki lion people, whose name means "People of Ard" in a local language. This tends to explain the khardaki obsession with sex.) Amber Lions were created primarily as sex toys but also guard their owners and have somewhat more combat ability than a normal lion.

In figurine form Lions are small amber statuettes of lions, usually with one or more dark spots or 'inclusions'. All those made by Arda are male but several lioness statuettes exist that her apprentices created. In lion form they resemble stylized, full sized lions with smooth, flexible amber flesh. The primary function of an Amber Lion is as a lover and they have a very limited shape change ability that allows their sexual organs to be the right size for whatever female (or male) desires their companionship. Their amber flesh has the texture of medium-hard rubber while their body cavity contains a gelatinous goo. A small amount of this goo acts as lubricant during any sort of sex the Lion might engage in but disappears when it resumes figurine form, as does any the lion might ejaculate provided the Lion resumes figurine form immediately after sex. Arda preferred tidiness from her lovers, at least when she only wanted a brief fling. Any dirt or other detritus that lingers on a lion during its time in full-sized form also disappears when they resume figurine form.

A Lion's tongue is rough as sandpaper and they are adroit at using it to please their owners, while their teeth and claws can be either pleasantly soft or hard and sharp as needed. Lions are smarter than a real lion and some are smart enough to play simple games such as checkers. All are smart enough to take verbal commands from their owners and will always understand their owner's orders.

An Amber Lion figurine may assume lion form for up to four hours per day but unlike any other sort of Figurine they need to eat to replenish themselves. They can subsist on any sort of meat and require more food if more active, but still far less than a real lion. If they remain in statuette form a Lion does not need to eat at all.

Lions have no command word but are activated by their owner's lust, when they sense their owner is threatened, or rarely, a very hungry Lion can activate itself. In combat a Lion has the statistics of a normal lion but DR 10/slashing due to the flexible nature of their bodies and their lack of vital organs. Lions are immune to critical hits and Sneak Attack and have Fast Healing 3 as their inner amber seals and repairs wounds.

A Lion killed in lion form cannot resume it for a week and is permanently destroyed if the figurine is shattered. A well treated lion becomes a faithful lover and guardian but a mistreated Lion will eventually attempt to devour its master. Lions have an innate sense of neatness imbued in them by their creator and rather than tearing their prey apart will swallow anything up to a large man whole. This happens when a hungry Lion grapples an opponent. It can then begin to swallow its meal with another Grapple check and finish its meal the next round with one more successful Grapple. Prey half-swallowed that win the check end up merely Grappled or escape if the lion only started to swallow them that round. A Lion could swallow up to three human-sized creatures if it so desires but one is more than enough to sate them.

The Lion's gelatinous interior inflicts 2d6 points of acid (absorption) damage per round and 1d6 crushing damage. It is possible to cut one's way out in the usual manner. Once its prey is dead the Lion will resume figurine form and after this its meal will appear as a cloudy inclusion in its figurine form which grows gradually smaller as it is absorbed over the weeks and months. Lions produce no waste and prey are eventually converted to the amber goo which both powers the Lion and in the case of a male lion acts as its ejaculate.

Prey absorbed by a Lion can be revived only by a Wish. There is simply nothing left at all once their digestive process is complete. Even clothing or gear possessed by their prey is eventually absorbed, though especially powerful magic items which somehow got eaten may simply be regurgitated.

Lions, being flexible in nature, can potentially devour prey not only by mouth but also through the anus (which is normally only used for sexual purposes), a female lion's sex, or a male lion's penis. No matter how they swallow prey the eventual result is absorption. It is perfectly safe to have sex with a loyal Lion but an angry one might dispose of its owner in a way it feels is appropriate.

While Lions normally remain at the same size since their magical metabolism "burns up" food they eat, it is possible for one to feed so heavily it becomes larger, resulting in Huge or even Gargantuan lions with correspondingly larger figurines (a Huge lion might have a figurine the size of a house cat and a Gargantuan lion one a figurine the size of a real lion!) Such a large figurine would be quite valuable but naturally that value is dwarfed by the usefulness of the Amber Lion itself.

The unique nature of Lion figurines allows them to function even in anti-magic areas or worlds with no magic at all, but in this case they eventually need to eat even if they stay in figurine form and burn through their meals much faster. A meal of an entire human will last an active Lion only about a year under these circumstances and if they have not accepted an owner then the existence of a Lion can be surmised by following the trail of disappearances it leaves in its wake.