When the Tiger Awakens

The freaky aunt sends Christine a stuffed animal as a gift.

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Christine has just moved into her first apartment of her own when she receives a mysterious gift from her Aunt Dixie. A plush tiger, and quite a big one at that. Intended as a cuddly companion, so that she does not have to be alone...

***

Did someone order "normal, realistic sex"? Sorry, ran out of it. This one is, uh...I don't know! It is inspired by the story "Teddy Bear" by SimonDoom, which is great -- read it also!

Credits and thanks to DirtyMindedMinx, she edited this story to smooth out my stupid errors and translation glitches.

Dingo

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"Very well. It's getting there."

Christine looked around her room with a critically furrowed brow and nodded. Considering that she had only received the key from the landlord the day before yesterday, and that yesterday the place had been a hullabaloo of half-erected cupboards, IKEA furniture in the state of delivery, and unlabeled moving boxes, now, on this Saturday afternoon, it looked quite respectable.

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to herself. Her first apartment of her own, how exciting! Not even fifty square feet, the miniature bathroom and a narrow corridor included. A one-and-a-half-room apartment in a dreary building from the 80s. Plain woodchip wallpaper, old windows, and the carpeting had been around for a couple of years. Everything was nowhere near as neat and pretty as it was in the house of her family.

Never mind! This was hers! Not just a kid's room. Her first, real, own place to stay. A dorm room, exactly like the one in the books. She brushed her fingertips along the shelf that would hold the photos of her parents and a few friends. Some more pillows, a cozy blanket, the pictures on the wall, and this would look really cozy. Yippee!

Christine strolled into the bathroom and washed her hands, which felt raw from all the screw-twisting. Her gaze fell into the mirror and she looked at herself critically. A small girl, brown hair, oval face and bold glasses with bright red frames. She had bought them only last week, after endless back and forth. Both Mimi, her younger sister, and Gwen, her best friend, had pestered her to get them.

Her reflection grinned. In the end, it wasn´t fashion that had tipped the scales in favor of the purchase. It was her secret hope that the flashy glasses would perhaps distract her future fellow students a little; draw their attention from the problem zone.

With a sigh, she let her gaze slide lower. Why the heck did she have to grow such big boobs? She'd been needing DD bras for half a year now, and if she was unlucky, even those wouldn't be enough at some point. The gazes at the local college had already been unpleasant, and she had known the people there for years. Would her still unknown fellows perceive her as a walking pair of giant tits?

Distantly, she eyed the buxom globes under the fabric. After her father had said goodbye three hours ago, toolboxes in both hands, she had put on comfortable clothes, sweatpants and an old shirt. No bra. Still she could afford it. Her breasts bobbed and swayed with every movement, but they sat high and firm. This filled her with a kind of bittersweet satisfaction. Looking at her mother, she could see what such fullness might appear like twenty-five years later.

"Aw, screw it!" she muttered, lowering her gaze to her hands. "I'm here to study. I don't care what anybody thinks."

The brave words cheered her up a bit, though that was a lie. As she knew perfectly well. Unfortunately, she did care what other people thought of her. Oh gosh, why couldn't she be as impartial and cheerful as Gwen? Why did she constantly plague herself with a thousand ifs and buts, with so many coulda, woulda, shouldas. It made everything tougher. Especially with the boys. If only she could...

The shrill ring of the bell interrupted her thoughts.

Christine winced at the sound, still unfamiliar to her. Who was visiting her at this hour?

"Who is it?" she asked into the plastic receiver of the door phone next to the entrance.

"UPX Delivery Service," it squawked from the shell. "Parcel for you."

"Uh..." She glanced down at herself. "Can you bring it up and leave it by the door?"

"I'm afraid not." A snort. "The package is custom-sized. I can't haul it up by myself."

"Oh...fine. Please wait. I'll be right down to help."

She hung up the phone, opened the brand new closet, and plucked the widest sweater from the pile. The gray one that hung on her like a tent. With any luck, that would cloak her bra-less state. She didn't have time for anything else right now.

With feet hammering, she ran down the two flights of stairs. At the basement, she slowed down and shifted to a measured gear to keep her tits from bouncing like crazy. Stupid udders!

The brown delivery truck was parked on the sidewalk, both rear doors open. An older man in an UPX uniform was pushing a massive cardboard box to the loading platform. The brown block might have been almost as tall as she was. She blinked. What could this possibly be? She hadn't ordered anything, as far as she was aware. At any rate, nothing of these dimensions.

"Christine Miller?" the man asked, looking at his tablet.

"Yup."

"Good." An electronic beep. "It's not heavy. But bulky." The delivery man jumped out of the truck. "I don't want to damage anything on the staircase."

"No problem. Happy to help."

Two by two, they trudged up the stairs. In fact, the huge box contained only a few pounds of weight. But the volume nearly filled the tiny corridor behind the entry of her apartment by the time they had the shipment upstairs.

"Thank you, and have a great weekend."

The UPX employee smiled wearily and let his eyes rest on her bosom for two seconds before turning and trotting down the stairs. She closed the door to block out his gaze and the rest of the world. She squeezed past the cardboard barricade, filled by tense curiosity.

At one corner, she spied the address label. She squinted to read the small print letters. "Sender: Dixie L. Mackay, 8012 Holloway Drive, La Mesa, CA 91942," it read.

"Aunt Dixie?" Christine's eyes widened. The whole family had little contact with her mother's older sister. She was considered an esoteric junkie and slightly nuts. Possibly not just slightly. Dixie had lived alone in California for many years. That is, when she wasn't on a jungle trip through South America or in an ashram in India. The last time Christine had seen her was two years ago, at grandpa's 85th birthday party.

She pulled the package into the room and laid it on its back. With the scissors, she first cut through the hard plastic straps, then through the countless adhesive strips that ran around the corners and flaps of the box in no discernible pattern. Finally, she was able to open the thing.

A stuffed tiger lay in the box. Comfortably stretched out, head raised, hind legs sticking out to the side from under its belly. No baby tiger, but an adult specimen. Not quite full size, but not far from it either. The fur showed gorgeous colors, orange, black and white. She immediately had to think of Hobbes, the stuffed tiger of the ´Calvin & Hobbes´comic strips.

"An Aurora animal?" giggled Christine, kneeling in front of the box. The tiger looked at her out of big, black eyes. Automatically, she reached out and stroked his head. This immediately conjured a smile on her lips. How wonderfully fluffy and soft the fur felt!

Two minutes later, she had freed the animal from the box and pushed the remnants back into the hallway. She would soon have to cut it up and dispose of it as waste paper. Besides the stuffed animal, she had found a small box wrapped in gift paper inside, and an envelope. She took both and joined her new roommate. The tiger was lying on the carpet in front of her bed. It looked as if it had chosen this as its new favorite place.

"So - what kind are you?" Christine asked the animal and had to laugh. Now she was already talking to the thing as if she were no more than ten years old. Fascinated, she stroked the curved back. All over so soft and tender. Much cuddlier than the Hasbro lion she had once received as a child. She didn't like that one because the plush was rough and stubby.

She stretched out next to the stuffed animal and looked at it inquiringly. No brand label anywhere. Too bad, because such giant exemplars of a quality brand were quite valuable, she had once heard. In fact, there was no sign or logo anywhere on the tiger, or something that would indicate its origin. The tiger did not actually look like a toy, but was kept realistic. Odd. And interesting.

That smell - was it coming from the animal? She brought her nose close to the tiger's neck and sniffed. Carefully, because who knew how old the thing was and where it had been.

"Huh?"

She blinked. The tiger smelled - fresh! Had Aunt Dixie washed it? But no, that wasn't a detergent smell. She closed her eyes, nuzzled her face into the super-soft fur, and sucked the air deep into her lungs.

"Mmmm..."

Wow! One could almost become addicted to that! She embraced the animal and breathed, smelled and sniffed. The scent that rose from the fur was too subtle and too fleeting for her to pinpoint. Neither sweet nor tart, neither spicy nor flowery. But incredibly delicious! What on earth smelled this good?

She scrambled to her knees, now seriously curious. The envelope was not sealed shut. She pulled out a handwritten note and recognized her aunt's squiggly writing.

Dear Christine,

belated congratulations on your 18th birthday and on coming of age. Please forgive me for not being able to be there for the party and for not even sending you an email or a message. I was on a three-month silent retreat with a shaman in Patagonia and not allowed to have any contact with the outside world.

Your mother recently told me on the phone that you are now going to study in the city and move into your own apartment. She sounded sad and said that it will probably be really hard for you, all alone. I felt the same way back then - starting your own life is fantastically exciting, but it can also be scary. And lonely.

So as a belated birthday present and to help you get started in university life, I'd like to give you two things that might make life a little easier for you. Both have been very good for me, even if I had to get used to them at first.

Soon I will move to Italy and can´t take Tony Tiger with me. Therefore, I am happy if he finds a good new place with you and wish you the very best with your studies and the next few years on your own. Hopefully we will see each other again soon.

Best regards from the west

Your aunt Dixie

P.S.: Originally Tony had a different name. He is quite old and comes from Bengal, as far as I know. But to me, that's what he wanted to be called. Maybe because I loved eating those Kellog's Frosted Flakes as a kid. You may need a new name for him, but he'll tell you.

"Tony Tiger? Aha." She lowered the letter and frowned. Sweet that Dixie had thought of her. But what was she going to do with such a monster in her tiny dorm room? Again she stroked the flank of the stuffed animal and sucked in the fine scent that seemed so irresistible to her. Like a breeze from the kitchen when you´re hungry and waiting for the first course of a feast.

She took the small gift and tore open the paper. Underneath, she found a neutral, black plastic box. Longish. A classy writing instrument? A tentative press on the side, then she found the right spot. The lid flipped open. Her eyes widened and a squeak escaped her throat.

Inside, on a velvet cushion, lay a dark red dildo.

Christine had only ever seen something like this in digital images, attached to obscene messages or the like, but never in real life. Nevertheless, she immediately recognized what it was. The male anatomy was reproduced in the finest detail, from the thick, mushroom-shaped glans to the implied upward curve of the shaft and irregular veins on the sides.

She set the box on the floor with erratic fingers and slid two feet away from it. Her breathing was getting harder, she noticed peripherally. What on earth was Dixie trying to tell her? That she should shove that unspeakable thing into herself? As a comforter or something? She, of all people, the uptight virgin? Whose sexual experience didn't go beyond a little making out? At least the part ended smoothly at the back. If there were balls attached to it, she would have to scream now.

With effort, she let out a laugh, but she immediately fell silent when she heard her own voice. The dildo captivated her gaze, she could hardly look away. And it seemed to have a built-in heating function. Or why did the air in the room suddenly seem so warm to her? This also made the beguiling smell of the stuffed animal stronger...

"No!"

With a jerk, she slid forward, grabbed the plastic box and slammed it shut. Five seconds later, she had stuffed the thing all the way to the back of her closet, behind some junk on the bottom shelf. There it could lie. For all eternity.

"Aunt Dixie!" she breathed, "That's...probably sweet. But this thing - I don't want it! I can't do it!"

Only silence answered her, and the distant roar of the bypass highway. It sounded like disappointed silence.

"But the tiger is great!" she hastened to add. "I'll gladly take that one."

As proof, she snuggled up to the stuffed animal lengthwise. Immediately, her heart felt lighter and the smile returned to her lips. You just couldn't be horrified or angry or stressed anymore when you combed the fingers of both hands through that fluffy fur and rubbed your cheek against it. The smell of Tony settled like a balm on her nerves. Soothing, but not lulling. She experienced every detail. The softness of the ends of his hairs. The outline of the raised ears that felt almost leathery under the fur. Her breasts that nestled against the animal's body.

She lay like that for a few minutes with her eyes closed, enjoying the peace. Then, with a sigh, she rose to her feet.

"You're nice, Tony," she addressed her new buddy. "But tell me, can you help me with the cleaning, too? I still have to do that now."

Tony didn't stir. Apparently, he had little desire to help.

***

Christine slipped into bed and snuggled under the brand new blanket. Everything seemed so unfamiliar. Would she fall asleep feeling this way? But, at that moment, a huge yawn forced her jaws apart. Hmm, she probably would.

The cell phone showed 9:33 p.m. She had been cleaning for hours and had her little apartment spick and span. For dinner she had potato casserole, which she had brought from home. Afterwards, she took a sinfully long, hot shower and rinsed the dirt of the move from her skin. As well as all the stupid thoughts, be it the memory of the UPX driver's gaze on her bosom, or the disturbing dildo that was now stored in the closet.

She lay in bed, righteously tired. Tomorrow, on Sunday, she would have a look at the city. She still had two weeks until the beginning of the semester, very nice!

Her eyes roamed around the room. Everything seemed so new and strange. The streaks of light cast by the streetlights below past the curtains to the ceiling. The outline of the closet on the wall. The desk, a hulking silhouette under the window.

In a few days, she would surely feel at home and take everything for granted. But now, each everyday object seemed to hide something magical inside. The glass dome of the ceiling lamp looked like an oversized gemstone, and the shadows under the wall cabinets of the kitchenette may have concealed fairies that curiously flew up behind the kitchen appliances.

Tony Tiger was still lying in the same place, on the carpet, close to the bed. The orange and black stripes of his fur formed a pattern of gray tones in the semi-darkness. He was looking right at her, with his big black eyes. This was immediately obvious to her, even in the half-light.

"Don't look at me like that, Tony," she whispered, and had to giggle. "It's all right for you there on the rug, isn't it?"

But the animal did not look satisfied. Christine frowned and shifted a little to the side, then down. Interesting! From wherever she glanced at Tony, he seemed to have her in his sights. Kind of like those paintings where the painted figures look right at you, no matter where you stand in the room. How did the toy designers manage to achieve that effect?

Should she get Tony into her bed? She wavered. But then she would only have half the space for herself. Better not. Besides, what did it look like? She was eighteen years old and of age. An adult! A small cuddly toy in bed, okay, many had that. But such a giant beast?

The tiger looked at her unblinkingly. He seemed lonely to her. Of course he would much rather cuddle with her under the warm blanket. She would also. And if...

"Wait a minute!" she muttered to herself. "This is my apartment. I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I want a huge stuffed animal in my bed, there's nothing stopping me, is there?"

She listened into the silence. No one raised an objection. Ha!

Determined, she got up, grabbed Tony and pushed him backwards, against the wall behind the bed. She threw the blanket over herself and him. Underneath, she snuggled close, her face against his neck, one knee over his hind legs, which were casually stretched out to the side.

Hm, this aroma! She put an arm around the slender body and pressed her nose deeper into the fur. It smelled different now. Fuller, somehow. More alive. But still as fresh and pure and clear as a breeze from the high mountains. She had to chuckle as she thought of the stench of the predator cages at the zoo. How fortunate that Tony belonged to a breed of his own. Panthera Tigris Auroricus or so.

Hmm, that gentle caress when she ran her knee over the hind legs. She pressed closer to her bedmate, extending the touch until she was running the inside of her thigh over his back. So good! The fur caressed her skin like a warm breeze going up one's skirt in summer.

Hay!

Now she knew it. The core of this smell was hay. Freshly brought in from the meadow, still juicy and heavy. Had to be a childhood memory. But which one? She searched with her nose, sniffing everywhere, at the tiger's throat and chest. But whenever she thought she had now found the source of the aroma, the aromatic trail pulled her further.

She heard herself chuckle. Weakly. Her head felt so light. Was that fatigue? Or was it from that fabulous smell? Another giggle. Her parents had often laughed about what Dixie must have been smoking and popping. Could it be the olfactory remnants of her aunt's earlier orgies of intoxication? Exotic herbs that led to colorful dreams?

Sometimes, when she'd hugged Dixie in the past, a whiff of old incense would sit in clothes of her aunt. She had always liked to sniff that, too. But that was something completely different and not at all comparable with...

With mild surprise, she registered that the loose nightgown she was wearing had gathered up to her belly. With a serpentine movement, she pressed herself against Tony, trembling softly at the feel of it fluffing across her tummy. So good! More. She wanted more!

Her eyes, far too heavy to pry open. They could stay closed. She didn't need to see, then she was able to feel better. Her fingers pushed the nightdress hem higher. A deep sigh as she slid her soft breasts over the fur. The hind legs now lay in the crevice between her thighs, rubbing them there with every movement. Very lightly only, gauzily, but irresistibly.

"Mmmhh..."

She had to press her pussy against the soft, elongated outline. A thousand fine hairs tickled her most secret, intimate places and she swallowed hard. It was almost as if the paw was reaching out, searching for her. For the right spot. This one! She moaned softly as Tony pressed right on her clit.