Charles Richards - A Kingdom Of Love

Andy coughed again, and this time Mae joined in with him. Joan heard the crack of impatience creep into the beasts' moans as she drew near their dens. She had nearly an hour before Myrna would arrive to feed the other cats, so there was plenty of time.

Andy was already on his feet and stretching himself with anticipation when Joan arrived. Mae on the other hand lay diffidently with his face pressed against the cage bars, regarding her with a resigned face. She raised his cage door first on an impulse and while waiting for him to act she talked to Andy.

"How ya doing, guy? Bet the big fella's hungry. But first the trick…

That is, if Mae would just once act like Mack again."

The older lion still had not moved and Joan knew with exasperation that she would have to use the whip. She let Andy out then and to her surprise Mae followed. Will I never learn? Joan thought. Mae no longer cares and just does what Andy's doing, stupid girl.

Joan went to the huge refrigerated trailer that served as one wall of the tent. She slipped an apron over her head and hefted two hind quarters of beef off the hooks and onto a cart, then wheeled the meat back to the ring.

"You guys are hungry, aren't you?" she said when the lions growled their approval at the scent of the meat.

She took the training whip from where it hung near the cage door and entered assertively. Back Mae! Andy back! Her mind chanted while the whip sang out the confidence of her orders.

It was so simple. If you wanted to voice a command you called the beast's attention to you with the pop of the whiptip near his ear.

Otherwise, you just randomly let him know it was there. Whipspeak, Myrna called it.

The handle of the whip felt big in Joan's hand. She glanced at the carved penis tip of the upside-down ivory dildo. Myrna had frigged herself with this the first night with Clyde. Joan smiled at the remembrance; then, out of the corner of her eye she saw Andy approaching fast.

Pop, crack! "Andy back!" Joan regained control of the situation.

Concentrate girl, she told herself. These animals are lions.

As if to reinforce the thought Andy roared his majesty and Mae chimed in. God, what an awful sound their voices made: like a waterfall of bloody roars.

Joan cracked the whip to wipe the snarls off their faces and commanded them to their stands. She wanted to teach Mae to heel, after she had taught Andy to bring her a leash and collar. She was not having much success. Perhaps, her conception of the trick was somehow flawed.

She had tried for nearly a week to get Andy to come to her on call. He would approach her, all right, just out of his good nature and curiosity-but not when she called. If she let it happen, just relaxed the whipped reminders a little and held Mae off, Andy would stroll coolly right up to her.

Once, she had even let Andy rub himself against her while Mae roared his displeasure at the affront. That could be it. For the trick she could let Andy come up to her… and what? Wrestle with him? Well, then how could she use the whip to control Mae? Couldn't be done.

Suddenly Joan had an inspiration. What if she let Mae eat while she played with Andy? How about that? What would she use in an act to distract Mae, though? Well, that could be worked out later. But first she would have to try it. And there was no time like the present.

With several emphatic cracks of the whip, Joan commanded the animals to remain still. Then she hurriedly brought one beef leg into the cage and placed it on the steps between the pair.

While she backed off, she considered what this placement would arouse in the beasts. She knew she could keep Andy from taking the meat simply by popping the whip in his face. She had tried it once. But right after she had tried it, she had fed him. What she hoped would happen this time, however, was that Andy would approach her while Mae ate. And she hoped he would also remember his affection for people.

She held Andy off with the whip snaps while Mae took the hindquarter of meat and sulked off to one side of the cage. Then, instead of feeding Andy as she normally would have, she stopped the whip pops and watched him very carefully.

When she did not move, Andy eyed her with curiosity and roared a question to the air.

Joan answered with a whip pop beside his ear and said commandingly,

"Andy, come." One hand gestured stiffly before her pointing at the spot.

The lion grew restless on the stand and dismounted with a cat-quick spring. He prowled once back and forth before his place and then eyed Joan when a whip snap did not come.

"Andy, come!"

The big cat roared and flexed his tawny muscles beneath his golden coat. Like a St. Bernard, Joan thought and wondered why she always compared cats with dogs.

"Andy, come!" She snapped the whip at his hindquarters to let him know which way not to go. He roared his displeasure again and resumed his prowl in a circle to her left. Away from Mae, Joan thought, that's good. She let him amble, then saw that his path would take him to the meat where it lay just outside the cage.

Stupid girl! He can reach it with his paws and then if he drags it in and eats it before the door-why, you're caught between with no where to go. Suddenly she wished Myrna were there.

She cracked the whip tip just above his nose. He stopped and roared.

She popped it again, this time thinking only to get him moving the other way so that she could get out. Again she cracked the whip. Then Andy did a curious thing. He quieted suddenly and eyed her slowly as he turned her way. My God! Joan thought, is he going to eat me? And terrified, she froze.

The big cat sensed her fear and roared mightily to imbed the terror within her. Take command! Take command! Joan's mind screamed frantically inside her prison. But her body did not heed. She attempted to instruct her frozen nerves to obey by concentrating and commanding her hand to move. She was successful; but as she breathed the first relief from the stricken moment, her hand relaxed completely and she dropped the whip!.

Andy saw and roared again, then started to move in her direction. There was no time to stoop and retrieve the weapon so the foolish girl was defenseless before the beast. What could she do?

As if mesmerized with fear Joan started toward the lion.

"Good boy, Andy. Easy does it, big fella. Easy. Easy," she cooed.

Andy's ferocious growling changed timbre at the sound of her voice and he paused and moaned his indecision. Joan was moving toward him instead of away. If she was game to be brought down with a charge, she would run. But instead she had approached him with an outstretched hand. His curiosity was piqued.

Joan watched his switching tail closely. She knew that if it went rigid the lion would charge. It was moving in a lazy whip behind him: its bushy top kicking little dirt puffs up as he swished it to-and-fro.

But what would she do when she reached him? She was nearly there so she had better make up her mind.

The huge golden cat moaned as Joan drew near but made no move toward her. His tail frothed the dirt and Joan audibly breathed a sigh of relief when she was sure that he was going to remain friendly.

"Oh Andy, you're such a good cat," she said affectionately and knelt before the big creature to embrace his proud neck. Myrna has certainly taught him well, she thought, as she buried her face in his bushy mane.

Behind her she could hear Mae tearing great chunks from the beef hindquarter as his huge fangs rent the bloody meat into shreds. Andy growled and she heard the sound rumble up out of his mighty chest like the first of an earthquake's roar. God, but the depth of it is enormous, she thought and smelled the primitive nature of his being. It was as if she were inhaling centuries of the lion's heritage, so strong was the beast's smell as she embraced him. But the odor was like perfume to the girl.