Chapter Text
"The Malayan tiger. The tiger is the largest big cat on the planet Earth, although the Malayan tiger is one of the smallest, second only to the Sumatran tiger…"
Mabel scratches her neck. Her hand only leaves the keyboard for a moment before she returns to her laptop. The keys click satisfyingly in a rhythmic patter like raindrops over the cool tone of the narrator's voice. She's seen this documentary a million times now. It's one of her favorites for a lot of reasons, but that isn't what makes her watch it over and over. Her fingers pause for just a moment at a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. Mabel's eyes track the motion, quickly recognizing it as nothing but a slice of light from the television, watching an uneven beam warp across her ankle.
She begins typing again, faster now. Although Mabel could really use a drink, she resists the urge to sip from the cup on her coffee table. It's going to be disgustingly lukewarm by the time she finishes with the process, but she wants this more than she wants a sip of cold barley tea to soothe her throat. In the television's light she glows with greens and oranges, stripes playing over her face like blades of tall grass. Trying to blink away the dry feeling in her eye, she tries to find the cup in the sea of black, her pupils too contracted to see much beyond the TV's light. Shaking her head, she types again barely seeing the letters on the screen. Finally, the last little bit of code comes together. Mabel's teeth shine as she grins in the dark to herself, wet and reflective.
"…Compared to canine's forty-two teeth, a big cat only has thirty. Even so, tigers have the longest teeth of any big cat, at around seven-and-a-half centimeters in length…"
"There we go," she murmurs to herself, one finger sharply clicking everything through and reloading.
USERNAME: zenyattafan77
PASSWORD: BeautyG/ngerMerrylegs4ever
"Stupid ass password." Mabel smirks, leaning over the abyssal rift between the couch and the table, grabbing her cup. The outside is an unfortunate kind of clammy, the condensation long gone warm and gathered together into one continuous flow. When the tea hits her top lip, she doesn't bother to hide the disgusted curl of her lips. Lukewarm, as predicted. Ugh.
A tiger prowls along a craggy cliffside, pausing now and then to look around before slinking away behind rocks and shrubs.
Cut.
Another tiger, lazing in the sun, yawning to reveal its massive teeth. Pure muscle flexed and stretched in its jaw, whiskers bristling with satisfaction.
Cut.
Eyes blown wide, its face and chest coated in blood. Red and flakey brown soaked the thick fur of the tiger. Lowering its head, the carnivore pulled on flesh until segmented, pinkish vertebrae gleamed in the harsh sunlight. Opening wide, the tiger's jaw flexed.
Mabel wished that she could hear the cracks made as the deer's vertebrae popped and separated so that the barbed papillae of the tiger's tongue could lap up the spinal jelly. Her laptop loads in a quick burst of grey and red and her eyes jump to the home page.
Welcome, Jerry!
Mabel licks her lips and sets the cup back on the table. Now that she's got exactly what she wants, her eyes flick between the screens with eager interest, watching the loading bar fill. Finally, the cameras come up, each numbered. Tapping between each camera, she resisted the urge to rename them. Surely, if Jerry ever actually used his security system, he'd notice someone had been in his account. On that note, she clicked to another window, opening Jerry's email and deleting the notice that he had logged in on another device, wiping it from the account's history, as well as reroute any more emails like that to a sock puppet instead. As far as Jerry would know, the only person with access to his account was him, and even if he managed to navigate the system he'd only find that it was access by a computer in Taiwan.
Breath catching in her throat at the sight of a figure, Mabel eager scrolls back to the previous camera, blindly pawing at the air until her hand came into contact with what she'd been reaching for.
"…While a gray wolf has a bite force of around four-hundred pounds per square inch, a tiger has a bite force of a thousand, allowing them to crush bones with ease…"
Mabel takes her earbud and adjusts it in the shell of her ear, wincing as the sound pops before settling into open silence. Her eyes land on the figure on camera, bent whorishly over his chair instead of sitting. Still dressed in his blue trousers and dress shirt. It was a bit late to still be working, or just having gotten off. With hasty hands, Mabel hits the top of the bottle's pump too hard and the contents shoot up her arm as well as over the carpet instead of the intended target. The tiger on screen prowls through the grasses, almost unseen by its prey. Mabel hits the pump lighter this time and this time, her eyes darting impatiently between screens, not wanting to miss a moment of footage.
"…And ensure their prey does not escape…"
Jerry's tie was missing, his shirt undone by just a few buttons as he bends over, using only his pointer fingers to poke the keys of his laptop at an agonizingly slow pace. Irritation rose in Mabel's stomach, twisting over itself at the inefficiency. Baring her teeth, she pushes the laptop to the side of the couch, arranging herself so she can lean back. Lifting a leg, Mabel rubs the shaft of the vibrator's unforgivingly stiff plastic against her core. Her ratty grey shorts she's had since seventh grade hung from her left leg, half draped against the couch's back. Tilting her head, Mabel's next breath left her in a hiss as she hastily pressed the vibrator's rounded head against her hole, ignoring the burn as she pressed it inside without preparation. If the volume wasn't up so high, she'd probably be able to hear how wet she was. Her attention lay elsewhere.
"…What a big cat lacks in its number of teeth, they more than make up for with claws. A tiger's claws are protractible, meaning when not in use, they can pull back into a sheathe…"
Mabel watches as an odd and volatile mix of feverish serenity washes over her. She finally had eyes on the loser, but the microphones were so shitty that she could hardly hear him. Mentally making a note to plant some better ones from her stash later, Mabel looked around the room, noting little spots where she could put one, and perhaps a camera of her own. Just in case she lost access to his account. Which she wouldn't, but you never know. The tiger on screen scratched at a tree, a diagram of tendons and bones working to move the animal's claws in and out of the sheathe flashing across the screen. Sparks flew behind her vision as she twisted the dial, the vibrator's hum teasing her insides.
Too much too fast, the pleasure curdled between her thighs and Mabel swore quietly, voice drowned out by the narrator. Baring her teeth in the room as she arched her back, she works her hips, hastily chasing sparks of arousal. On camera Jerry stands, bringing his arms above his head and stretching. His back arched and he tilted his head this way and that, like he was trying to loosen it. She couldn't hear him, but Mabel could imagine the pops his joints made as he moved after staying in such a stiff position for so long. He would probably make an embarrassing grunt the way older men do when they readjust their posture. Mabel coughed a quiet laugh. Jerry continued to roll his neck.
You aren't supposed to do that, Mabel thought snidely to herself. It makes your neck weak.
Did Jerry have a weak neck? He wasn't exactly in particularly good shape. Mabel never saw him go out for a run, and while Jerry had a paid gym membership, his membership card had never been used there to log in, and his history of visits remained empty, save for a few times in January after the new year.
"…When needed once again, as you can see by this tiger marking its territory by scratching a tree trunk, they can contract their toes and extend them as needed…"
Shitty fucker can't even keep a promise to himself, never mind the town. Mabel's hand sped up, thrusting harder against the familiar spot inside her that felt just right to abuse. What would be like to wrap her fingers around Jerry's neck? To put her thumbs against his pulse and squeeze tight, feeling the muscles contract as he gasps for air? His hands were pretty big compared to hers… Maybe he'd paw at her face, try to push her away with strength that slowly failed as she clutched tighter and tighter around his throat. Jerry's face would turn that ridiculous shade of red it did that one summer he got sunburnt real bad. Maybe the veins in his eyes would burst with effort, red outlining the pale blue like blood on ice. She would be able to feel his throat working, struggling to receive air, pulse thumping under her fingers, suffocated and quick. Would he try and beg her, lips moving clumsily and turning bluer by the moment as she crushed his windpipe in her hands, the flesh of his meaty neck slowly giving way?
What would the jelly between his spine taste like?
Mabel shivered at the imagined experience and whimpers as she clicks the vibrator higher. Probably like an oyster: salty, meaty, but yielding under her teeth as if it wanted her to suck it down. A mewl left her, high and hungry as she pushes the volume as high as she could in her headphones. Static crawled in her ear as she bit her tongue to taste copper and salt for a moment. She pretends it's his, and her cunt clenches around the toy. Pleasure ratchets up her spine, blood spilling over her lip as Mabel licks the chapped skin. A tinny groan rang in her ear and for a moment her hand froze, vibrator pressed in deep.
Muttering something she couldn't find meaning in, Jerry shamelessly began undoing the buttons of his shirt, shucking it off before moving on to his belt. Saliva gushed in her mouth, mingling with the metallic flavor of her blood. Hand stilling with anticipation, Mabel leans forward predatorily, eyes dry and trained on the screen of her laptop as his pants fell. She felt as if she moved Jerry would somehow see her through the screen; as if he'd turn impossibly making eye contact with her, his jaw dropping in flustered horror the way it had when she found his address. Some kind of instinct had gripped her as his belt was tossed temporarily to the side, his suit jacket, trousers, and dress shirt all set neatly into a laundry sorter.
"…Although a Malayan tiger is one of the smallest tigers, it has a big appetite. Tigers often gorge themselves when they take down prey, and can eat up to an estimated eighty pounds of meat in a meal…"
Mabel licks her lips again, swallowing her spit as Jerry sits down at the foot of his bed. Methodically, he tugs his socks down, soon joined by his plain briefs. Didn't this guy own anything with a pattern? Even his tie patterns were subtle. At last he stood, pulling his tank top over his head for her to rake her eyes over. Mabel's teeth itched to sink into his sides, soft with fat the way older men who's metabolisms slowed carried it. Her wrist was starting to ache but she didn't care, eyes flicking between the stalking tiger, the boar that was trotting along the riverbank, and Jerry who's thumbs slipped under his waistband.
"…Typically, their meals will be much smaller, about forty to sixty pounds each. That won't stop them from eating all that they can, of course…"
Jerry is painfully average looking. He's got a bit of fat that comes with age, his chest hair is prolific and as grey as the hair on his head, and he puts his laundry in a goddamn laundry sorter. Soft between the legs, she does some quick math, holding her own hand up to imagine the feel. Just about average, by her estimation. How much would he grow? Jerry tossed his clothes in the sorter, pulling on his stupid monogrammed robe, heading away to the en suite bathroom. Mabel groaned, head falling back in annoyance, flicking through cameras at first idly then with increasingly frantic irritation when no bathroom appeared. From the bedroom camera, an odd kind of static graced her ears. The microphone showed activity, flickering green to grey intermittently despite no sound coming through.
"…Tigers are fearsome ambush predators that take advantage of their striped coats to camouflage in the tall grasses that make up their habitat, making it difficult for prey, even with their wide field of vision, to spot them. This young female has her eyes on a sounder of wild boar…"
That fucking tease.
He stripped himself down in front of her just to wander away for a shower? Didn't he know that she had put aside time tonight for watching him? He had better make it quick. He had better make it worth it. Mabel was not in a particularly patient mood tonight. She felt ravenous, just from the small glimpse of his body that she managed to spy. Opening a new tap, she pulled up the camera footage and rewound, pausing intermediately when Jerry faced the camera more fully. The tiger prowled unseen. A boar and its sow trundled along riverbank, snuffling as piglets pranced carelessly behind them.
"…It looks as though she is in luck. The leader is a mature male, confident enough to leave the rest of his sounder to forage alone, giving the tiger a critical opening. Staying upwind of her prey, she waits for her chance to strike…"
Mabel whined impatiently, pulling the vibrator out and leaving her painfully empty with a wet pop. Her eyes ate his body up from groin to gullet, imagining all the places she would leave marks if she were there.
Jerry was a huge pussy. He was cowardly and he cared only about himself, so she had no doubt that he'd be afraid of pain. Would he cry? Mabel probably wouldn't even have to hit him once to get him to beg. She'd do it anyways. A few times, maybe, just for the hell of it. Sharpening her nails to claws and making bloody red lines down his body held appeal. Maybe she could even convince him to beg her to bite harder if she lied and said she would stop if he did. Could she get him to say he liked it? She scraped her nail against her clit roughly, moaning through gritted teeth at the feeling.
Pressing the vibrator to the pearl of swollen, abused flesh she whined high and sharp in the dark room, voice cracking in pleasure as it zipped up her spine. Working the shaft of the vibrator along her puffy pussy lips, she shivers. Fuck, she was close already, keyed up from the excitement of getting into his cameras. Where are you, you little attention whore? she thought to herself impatiently.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Jerry wandered into the room a moment later, his wet hair in a mess and back in his dumb robe, wrapped in the pure white and gold.
"Now where did I leave my comb…?" Jerry said aloud, frowning down at the top of his dresser.
"Closet," Mabel replied immediately, even though Jerry couldn't hear her.
Jerry walks back into the bathroom stupidly, the sounds of shuffling objects around on hard tile and stone counter tops echoing into his room.
Walking back in through the door, Jerry scratches his head and looks down at his dresser top. "I usually leave it here," he mutters, both hands open, as if trying to placate the empty space into giving him what he wanted. He moved his hands circularly, then in flat tapping motion that Mabel echoed with the vibrator, grazing the sweet spot within her.
"It's in the closet," Mabel repeats impatiently. She didn't want to finish until she saw him laying in his bed, forcing herself to slow her thrusts. Chewing her lip, Mabel pushed down her building frustration, trying in vain to ease up on herself. Red lines on her thigh lit with green from the television as the tiger's eyes peered from tall grasses at the boar, her nails scratching down her skin as she struggles to contain herself.
Jerry, many miles away, looks over the top of his dresser. His hands are on his hips, as if he could assert dominance over his household objects and items, willing them back into position. "It has to be around here somewhere…" he mutters to himself, the noise tinny on the shitty mics (she should really replace them as soon as she can, she's got to, she wants to hear every breath, every slight movement of his tongue against his teeth, every awkward noise of his embarrassing, aging body) only stroking the flames of frustrated pleasure that was knotting in her belly. Mabel turned her head, a twitchy motion that sparked pain in her neck from the awkward position she kept.
"I could swear that I left it in the bathroom…" Jerry scratches his head uselessly, looking around his room, over the side tables and desk, then his bookshelf. "Come on Jerr. You can do this. Don't have a senior moment. Retrace your steps. You did your hair in the bathroom this morning..."
"JERRY, YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER, IT'S ON THE SHELF IN YOUR BIG ASS CLOSET!" Mabel screeches, wrist sore as she furiously thrusts the vibrator in and out. Her pussy makes an embarrassingly wet, lewd squelch and her words dribble into moans. Eyes flashing between blades of grass, green eyes lock onto her prey with predatory fascination. The boar's tail swishes happily, grunting as he finds a particularly delicious morsel of some vegetation or another, unaware of what stalks him.
Mabel watches Jerry turn back to his bathroom again, even though he knows he's already looked there. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T-!"
Mercifully, Jerry saunters out with a triumphant, "Ah! There you are, you handsome devil!" Happily snatching his comb off the little shelf in his closet as he wanders back to the bathroom. With a groan, Mabel drops the toy against her leg, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands. Scrunching them hard, she waits until she feels tears begin to leak before blinking, trying to chase the feeling of dry eyes away. Glaring at the empty room on screen, Mabel's brow furrows at her hand, pulling away as she feels slick lube and her own fluids against her cheek. "Ew." She wipes them off with her shirt. She was going to do laundry anyways.
"…Typically, a predator will seek out the weakest of the herd, and pick them off. This is usually the sick, elderly, or young. An older male, that can't move around as quickly as its younger sows and easier to target than piglets, it's the logical choice to make. Especially since it is much larger than the others, the calories will feed her well…"
Jerry returns with freshly coiffed hair in a pair of pajama pants. Yawning, he snags his laptop off his desk and makes for his bed. Mabel watches on with building rage as he draws back the covers, slipping under them before settling his laptop over his legs and begins logging back in. Jerry taps away, entering his password with his stupid, chicken-peck method of using two fingers to type.
Growling low and loud, Mabel bares her teeth in a matching snarl as the tiger on screen lunges. The boar squeals, managing to slip out from the tiger's massive paws, tucking its rump and trying to run. Further up the riverbank, the sow and piglets run in fear, abandoning the male to the predator.
He was supposed to go to bed. Mabel worked the toy furiously within her, taking out her frustrations on her dripping, oversensitive pussy. Jaw burning from how much she had been clenching it, she kicked a cushion off the sofa in frustration. The knot of pleasure in her belly looped over itself, tying itself tighter. Her cunt ached hungrily, mind a blur as her vision tore red through her mind. He was supposed to be going to sleep. Mabel had been waiting all this time to see him at his most vulnerable so she could cum, just for him to fuck around on the computer again?!
Fucking bullshit! The hell did he even have left to do on the computer?!
Mabel stills suddenly, hand frozen with the toy half inside herself. Working quickly, she turned the vibrator low enough that she could focus and sat awkwardly, angling it against the couch cushions so it didn't slip out. Biting back a whimper as it pressed insistently against a sensitive spot that sent sparks through her, she got to work. With just a few clicks she opened Jerry's screen on her own laptop, minimizing the camera feed. Urgency ate at her, pussy clenching around the toy, frustrated and neglected.
The tiger grasped the boar by the haunches, dragging it to the ground as the massive beast pushed it down.
Mabel stares at the screen in disbelief.
Is he looking himself up?
That's what was so important?! Looking himself up on the internet?!
"Narcissistic motherfucking jack-off…" Mabel mumbled to herself, watching Jerry look through various articles of himself as he searched his own name, favoriting fluff pieces in his browser as she typed and clicked. Why had she never considered this before? She'd had access to Jerry's laptop for over a month and had never thought to do this.
She's so dumb sometimes.
After making sure the light wouldn't activate, Mabel tapped the final key. Her breath stilled as her screen filled with Jerry's face.
His chin was doubled in the way that many people's did when they were looking down at an odd angle. His stomach looked large, chest covered in a soft thicket of grey, curly chest hair. His chest sagged slightly with age, nipples dusky brown and infuriatingly tempting. Mabel licked her teeth. Jerry's eyes were bagged and a little puffy the way her own would get after late night research sessions.
It was an unflattering image, one Jerry would hate for anyone to see.
Mabel's finger tapped rapidly, taking screenshot after screenshot, nearly matching the speed of the vibrator as she clicks the toy to it's highest setting. Jerry's smug expression twitches into a cocky smirk as she stood. He let out a little pleased noise, clicking on another article, praising him for doing such a good job and using taxes to directly benefit Beaverton citizens.
Sure, Jerry. You're benefiting me right now. Now open your mouth again you stupid whore, I want to see the back of your throat.
Mabel tilts her screen, half kneeling above it until Jerry's stupid fucking face was right in clear view of her cunt. If he were to be able to see her as she did him right now, he'd be greeted by Mabel's hand working furiously, grunting as she fucked her cunt on the toy. The fingers of her other hand rubs at her clit with increased urgency, rolling the bead of sensitive flesh.
The tiger grabs the skin of the boar with her front teeth leisurely and pulls. With a strange ripping sound, the skin strips away from the flesh revealing shiny, bloody meat. Blinking its green eyes in satisfaction, the tiger shakes her white ruff, flinging blood into the air in a spray. She licks her lips, scanning the area, before she dips her head and sinks her teeth back into her prey. The boar squeals beneath her as she begins to eat, apathetic to the boar's torture.
"You- hah, fuck-! You fucking piece of sh-shit slut!" Panting, Mabel growls low, pleasure wound tight and hot in her gut. Wrist aching, she forces herself to keep moving. Electricity sizzled in her veins, lighting every limb on fire. With Jerry's face beneath her, Mabel grinned in relief at the feeling of release drawing close. "I'm going-! Going to destroy you, you egotistical, na- narcissistic-! Ohhhh fuck-!"
Jerry raised his hand to his mouth and yawned, showing off every aged line in his face, every imperfection he was so scared to show other people. The inside of his mouth was deliciously red, and one of his teeth had a filling in a back molar. He shook his head and scratched his chest casually, a drowsy but pleased look in his stupid, ugly mug.
What sort of noise would he make if she got a pair of pliers and pulled one of his perfect, pretty teeth out?
Mabel screams as her vision went white. Below her, Jerry browses the internet, looking ignorantly at his own pictures. Above the screen that captured him, Mabel pants, her face painted in the glow of the tiger's bloody feast as she fucked herself through her orgasm. Fire lit her up from the inside, the heat that had hung low in her belly growing to a satisfied roar. Her legs shook, every sloppy, wet thrust sending sparks of increasingly decadent pleasure through her until it finally grew nearly painful. Slumping to the couch, she wheezes, drawing light, lazy circles around her clit as the tiger on screen buries her face happily in the disemboweled belly of the boar. It lifts its head and looks pleasantly into the camera, licking its lips clean of offal. Mabel watches, almost transfixed as it licks clean a femur, cracking it open with its powerful jaws before lapping up the marrow. Her eyes were in pleasured slits, enjoying her taste of the good stuff
"…A good feast. Whatever she does not eat, she will bury under the dirt and come back to later. She is sated. For now. But one wild boar will not quench her hunger forever, and she will need to eat well if she wants to find a mate and carry cubs…"
Setting the account to automatically send her copies of his security camera footage, Mabel closed the laptop before scribbling on a sticky note to pick up some better microphones. He'd likely never notice that there was anything different with the footage, if he even watched it. Jerry was fairly detail oriented, but he always stopped paying close attention when things started going his way. He didn't understand like Mabel did that when things are going well, you actually needed to pay even closer attention. You never know what you'll miss out on, and she didn't want to miss anything good.
Not even one second of it.