Puc has arrived.

Puc scratches his nuts and slowly plods in on monstrous footpaws. The towering behemoth appears half asleep to those who are actually awake and outside to see him -- a white and black silhouette in the rising sun. It's almost surreal the way he appears in the distance, and surely must be an optical illusion. Each footstep is followed three seconds later by a rumble that rattles through the city, the impact from those mighty paws resounding through the cement walls of the upstretched buildings in the heart of the metropolis. But to those indoors, it just sounds like morning thunder.

Morning thunder goes ignored by most, save for a few who peer quizzically out the windows at the cloudless sky. In short order, though, the thunder is joined by an odd jolting, the buildings quivering and swaying to some unknown shock. Little figures begin to emerge into the streets, peering around curiously. Those in direct line of sight to the approaching giant blink and rub their eyes, staring in awe and disbelief, their minds hardly able to grasp what they are seeing. Only a very few have the sense either to rush back indoors, or to start running.

Puc is difficult to look at for any period of time, coming from the direction of the sun and forming a sort of partial eclipse. The giant tigerboi, though, isn't even aware of his surroundings, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Another deep, bellowing yawn escapes, sounding very much like a deep roar from a hundred jet engines sailing overhead at the same time. Even the tiger's fur looks matted, as if he -just- fell out of bed; and that ridiculous erection he's sporting is another clue that he's just getting 'aroused' for the day. The quake of his footsteps stutters, the tiger stepping on something, his toes stubbing on some object which he assumes is in his bedroom. In reality, those mighty white-furred digits burst through a tall power station, knocking over a few of the shorter smokestacks and crippling the side wall to the boxy structure. Power surges attack the city, and pretty soon nothing has power.

Every building goes dark at once; traffic lights wink out and streetcars roll to a halt. All around the city more and more people are crowding into the streets. Many tall buildings, in fact, are ordering people to go out since without power there are no fire alarms. With each new person emerging into the sunlight there is another gasp, as they peer dumbfounded at the sight of the unbelievable giant, his body blotting out the sun, mammoth black erection bobbing before him and seeming to cast its own shadow. A few more begin to run, but the vast majority are just transfixed. Typical citydwellers.

Puc yanks on his foot and stumbles off to the side, dragging more rubble with him; when his paw lifts away from the now pawprint-shaped power plant, a huge plume of smoke rises, hitting the tiger in the face like a handful of smelling salts. "Aww, man. Who's smokin'?" he says, coughing and fanning the ash and smoke away from his face. Opening his eyes to see who the culprit is, the tigerguy blinks, staring down at unfamiliar surroundings. No walls, no ceiling . . just an oddly shallow ground he's walking on. Staring down past the black boom stretching from the tiger's loins, Puc sees hundreds . . maybe thousands . . of little crawling bugs, each of them cascading away from his paws like pepper does to a touch of dish detergent. He's straddling one of the major interstates leading into the city, his calves and thighs rising above the industrial center and low-income housing. Those eyes blink, narrow, and that grin stretches thin and wide. "Good morning," his voice booms, though direct not at any one person.

Throughout the spectacle most simply stood transfixed. It is once the giant speaks, though, that panic seems to run through the city like a wildfire. It is not the voice -- it is the expression on the young titan's face, a grin of pure cruelty, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. All at once the inhabitants below start to race away. Their flight is comically slow, the stream of people looking more like it is oozing than flowing. They bump into one another and trip and jostle, and still they have not even managed to get out of the giant's shadow.

Puc strokes fingertips over the tip of his dick while he grins with half-lidded eyes. When he draws those pawpads away, there's a connecting web of precream that spindles from the tip of that black beast. The middle begins to sag and, without warning, the ends detach. Globs of honey-thick spunk fall, unshifted by wind, until they land with a dull whump on top of a dozen stragglers and gum up a set of squat buildings. Two are crushed outright, the momentum of the impact battering their bones and organs. Others are trapped underneath the goo, left to be slowly smothered under the strand of pre. Puc giggles and lifts up a foot, swinging it deliberately slow through the air and casting a dangerous shadow over the middle of the highway he's straddling, coal-grey pawpads casting down waves of heat that another half-dozen people can feel. The mighty footpaw lowers delicately, pushing bodies onto their backs and bodies, keeping them frozen against the concrete.

Those on the interstate have nowhere to go but straight away from the behemoth. They dodge past the great splatters of precum under which gaping bodies twitch and peer with bugging eyes. The ominous shadow seems to cover the whole city. Some glance to the side and notice that one of the massive striped calves that had been rising next to the highway is now gone. They look upward, and scream in terror at the sight. The giant boy is leering down at them, his fangs gleaming, his face half-obscured by the massive bulk of his erection. Then that whole scene is hidden by colossal toepads that sweep into view, eclipsing the sky. Screams now echo off of the leathery bottom of the giant's foot as it slowly comes down. In a moment an untold number are pinned beneath it, their limbs flailing and squirming, their faces pressed into the rough flesh.

Puc delights in the way those little bodies struggle, and those weeping wails and pleas. As if his prick couldn't get any bigger, it almost seems to stretch longer, upward, and the pucker of his glans almost look as if it's trying to laugh, too. It doesn't take much weight to pop those fragile bodies, and when his full weight shifts, the concrete buckles, the foundation dimples, and a warm pool of red forms, trickling out the instep of the tiger's footpaw. Puc then takes a steep, heel-to-toe, tightrope-walking down the stagnant highway, crumpling a pair of small economy cars and their fear-paralyzed drivers. Each footstep brings him closer and closer to the thick of the city, his shadow seemingly carrying a weight of its own over everything it touches. Step. Crunch. Screams. Crunch.

As if the fleeing crowd needed any more impetus to run. Those who are watching see giant smile happily as he callously crushes innocent people beneath his foot, obviously enjoying his power over them, the ease with which he can destroy them. The panic mounts, the street becoming a violent torrent of human beings. Some try to take refuge in buildings, where they are bowled over by others trying to race outside. All the while the streets echo with the awful sound of people being stepped on like beetles, the naked titan obviously amused -- and, most terribly aroused -- by the feel of struggling victims popping and squelching under his toes. The panic is at its height at the apex of your shadow, where it overtakes the crowd and casts them in ominous darkness.

Puc's handsome, huge, but terrible organ bobs side to side with each step, spitting and spraying syrupy goo in such amounts that the drains can't suck it down fast enough. Banks, fast food joints, and retail shopping centers find their parking lots flooded and their roofs caving in from the weight of the fluid. The towering tiger's tail sweeps behind him, leaving its own wake of cataclysmic destruction, knocking over historical buildings that have been in place since the city's inception. As people are crushed, they're also herded, hordes of little bodies forming almost vertical layers as they crowd away from the approaching giant. The buildings are growing taller to the tiger, now reaching his thighs and up. With a swing of his hips, Puc's dick batters in the side of one building, leaving a crater where there used to be office suites. The unrelenting tiger also palms the top of another structure and pushes down, turning the firm steel into crumbling powdered cement that gushes down and creates a fog over the tiger's footpaws.

Many die without even knowing what has hit them, as the mammoth cock overhead spits precum down upon them. Those who are not battered to death outright take more than a full minute to die, their lungs filling with the thin fluid, drowning in the evidence of the titan's cruel delight. Destruction reigns as the monster turns his gigantic penis into a wrecking ball, smashing it into the flimsy concrete facades simply to flaunt the utter power of his young body, and the overwhelming size and strength of his malehood. The crowd below is starting to slow down, the people bunching more closely together as more and more are driven before the tiger's pouding footpaws. So blinded by terror are they that they do not even know that they are being herded, going exactly where the murderous giant wants them to.

With the cloud of debris, dust, and smoke still hovering over the little bodies, blocking out their view anything further than six inches in front of their face, the little panicked people don't even see it coming. A powerful fist sweeps through the crowds of people, catching more than a dozen in the tiger's palm and a few more on his fingers. All of their frail bodies are hoisted away as fast as a bullet train, lifting right up to the tiger's face, with gazes down at them with terrible, cruel contempt and a knowing superiority. Those fingers uncurl, then squeeze into a ball again, the simple flex of his forearm enough to constrict those pawpads painfully around the tormented souls and burst a couple bodies. Those fingers uncurl again, revealing broken bodies -- some living, some simply snuffed out. Fingertips from the tiger's other hand deftly picks at the bodies, carrying them screaming and kicking away only to drop them past glistening fangs and into the back of the tiger's throat. After he gathers a half-dozen in his mouth, Puc swallows, the little Tic-Tacs visibly coasting down the tiger's throat ruff and into his gullet. The others have seen what will happen to them, and there's just nowhere to go.

In the dustcloud below people have no idea what has just happened. One moment they can see vague outlines of others running ahead of them and hear their screams, and then *something* rushes past in the fog, and the street ahead is empty. Those watching from upper stories, though, get a clear view of the horrific scene. The giant tiger peers loftily at the puny beings gathered i his hand, and then with callous brutality he closes his fist and crushes them with an effortless squeeze. The action is not without purpose, though, and that becomes clear as the giant carefully plucks the survivors from his palm. Obviously he was testing them, wanting to find which were the strongest...so he could eat them. They survive the incredible power of the giant boy's clenching fist, only to be swallowed alive. Meanwhile, down below, you can feel a pattering against the edges of your paws as blinded refugees run right into them. Others hear awful splattering sounds and find mangled pieces of bodies falling to the pavement nearby. Overhead there are awful screams, pleas for mercy...and then a horrendous gulping noise.

Puc, with his palm devoid of anything living, unceremoniously wipes the gore off on a nearby mirrored skyscraper. Streaks of red smear over the viewing windows of 7-figure condos. The cloud is beginning to dissipate now, and as the tiger looks down at his paws, he sees masses of little people pushing comically at the huge white digits looming over their view. The mirrored skyscraper provides the perfect angle for the titanteen -- he can see their little faces, their little limbs flailing. Pivoting on his heel, Puc lifts his toes, sweeping his sole toward a moving crowd of people. And with the same deliberate, cruel care, that footpaw descends; their little faces can be seen in the glare from the mirror, magnified by the sharp angle. Little shocked and startled faces are the last thing the tiger sees of the tiny things when he finally sets his toes on the ground and presses them into nonexistence. This time, as if he'd stepped on a tomato, a very large bubbling brook of red gushes out, washing into the feet of those still in the proximity of Puc's paws.

A wild shriek arises from many mouths as the mammoth paw glides over them, its underside already dotted with oily stains and redsoaked garments pressed into the crevices and ridges. The gesture is so casual it might even seem accidental, were the giant not peering straight down at the reflection of his victims and smiling coldly at their suffering. The mob is pressed down all together, their screams growing hoarse and wheezing, and then there is a wholesale ring of cracking bones as juice and pieces of meat squirt out from beneath the heavy toes. Those nearby are soaked, and quickly start to stumble away, many slipping in the slick remains. The dustcloud has added so much to the confusion that the vast crowd below is not even sure which way to run, and it keeps surging from one side to the other, like water in a basin.

Puc drops his other foot next to the one whose toes are splayed like soldiers in front of the mirrored building. A similar series of crunches and gurgles can be hard as the tiger situates his stance on the gooey carpet of reprehensibly used bodies. That mammoth black artillery gun squeezes into the space between the tiger's tummy and the window panes of the skyscraper. Around the back of the structure the tiger takes a firm grip, keeping everything still as he eases his hips closer. The weight of his dick is mashed between the firm muscles of his abdomen and the lofty building. One of them has to give way, and it's the building. The broad, round glans from that onyx organ tears through the glass like tissue paper, slicing its way through a good chunk of the structure before dropping and landing perpendicular to the tiger's torso. Another nudge later, and those flaring glans burst out the other end of the building, sending three or so tiny bodies flying outward with a handful of furniture. An oil slick of translucent cream dribbles down the other side of the building, turning people's views opaque while the structure gets rocked from the intense beating it's taking.

Those within had been watching the carnage as though it were taking place on a movie screen while they sat in relative safety. The illusion is shattered, though, as the big tiger suddenly turns toward them. Along a number of stories a thick slab of black meat is pressed against the windows, its width covering entire offices, the ridge on the underside flattening out until the glass bows in, then spiderwebs, and then finally explodes outward. The enormous cock crashes downward, chopping a perfect penis-shaped gash through the floors. People on the other side of the building suddenly see a black glans explode out of the center of the skyscraper, gallons of thin precum shooting forth from it and mingling with the wreckage. The panic has not subsided, but the direction from which the danger is coming is now clearer, and the basin-motion shifts to a slow streaming away.

Puc snickers, his nose overhanging the structure he's nearly split in two. Those hips shift, sawing his cock through the pitiful structure, though his hands keep the whole thing mostly intact. Bits of concrete, glass, and random pieces of furniture spew out of either end of the impalement, those glans bursting through the walls a level lower each time. The battering ram finally cripples the building into crumbling, the rubble gushing as if the tiger was holding a scale-sized bag of flower and dumped it on the population. Puc lets out a boyish giggle and walks right over the pile of smoldering rubble and into a street where people are fleeing. Occasionally he ducks down to pick up a handful of screaming little ants and sprinkles them over his dick; unfortunately, few have the strength or balance to find a grip, and end up bouncing off the black flesh and their bodies land on the concrete far below.

The air is filled with a cacophony of sounds: screams of terror, the crash of massive footpaws, the crackle of bodies being mashed flat beneath them, and the mirthful laughter of a heartless giant thrilling in the ecstasy of his domination. Here and there are gunshots as desperate citizens of police officers, as helpless as the rest, try to fire up at the beast, but their pullets land like raindrops and are absorbed by the thick fur. Dozens die when they are stepped on, their bodies left perfectly flat in the massive tiger's pawprints. Others are part of an obscene game, their bodies thudding down onto the monster's erection, dying for nothing other than their tormentor's entertainment. Those who manage to avoid being crushed underfoot or swept up are left sprawling in your wake, gaping up at your lean back and strong rump, your striped tail swooshing through the air overhead.

Puc strolls his way into the city's largest intersection -- every city has one. Whether it's Time's Square or Five Points or The Mall, it's the area where the thickest amount of slow traffic passes through. And it provides the right amount of space and plenty of little volunteers. When the titanic GodTiger approaches this intersection, he drops to his knees, using the flattened bodies of dozens as padding. Puc's hands 'crawl' forward, stretching out his torso so that the ebon monster and twin cumspheres swing and droop over little measly bodies. Cum gurgles as it churns greedily and leaks out the tip of the giant's shaft, sticking people to the cement and preventing their escape.

A veritable ocean of humanity boils and surges beneath the monster's body as it looms over their heads. Precum pours forth in a near-continuous stream, leaving a line of squirming bodies mired below. Packed in by the crowd, people punch and claw at one another in their desperation to escape, as above them a pair of testicles the size of small houses descends. You can feel their little hands tickling at your ballsac as it swings ponderously over them and they reach up to try to ward it off. Lower still, and you can feel the same tickle against the underside of your cocktip. Precum drools down like glue, and as the huge cock bobs and thuds down against them, little bodies become stuck to its underside, where they shriek and kick and wriggle against the sensitive flesh. Inches below them the rest of their fellow citydwellers are too concerned with survival to help.

Puc's eyes scan the crowd, looking for . . there it is! The tiger's fist smashes down on a couple bodies and the entrance to a subway station, causing concrete to nearly cave in. The pounding continues until there's a big enough gape for Puc to fit his hand through. He reaches around, tongue poking out cutely between his fangs, until he finds what he's looking for. And then with a tug, three sections of mangled subway car gets pulled out, complete with more than a few commuters. He brings the three-piece train to his dick, sliding it back and forth so that the cylindrical transport is covered in slick lube. The teen's precream trickles inside of the window-gaps, coating the riders and sloshing things up messily. That same boyish giggle echoes throughout the half-destroyed city when he's finished and begins scooping up handfuls of little critters, sticking them to the outside of the slickened railcars. They look like salt on a pretzel.

The thousands who had taken refuge inside the station are huddled together in shocked silence, listening to the screams outside and feeling the earth shudder with the impacts of the giant boy's footfalls. All at once the entrance explodes as though a bomb had gone off. A massive trio of fingers bursts through the ceiling and rips it back, letting daylight flood in. Before the terrified eyes of the refugees a great furry hand reaches down and seizes the subway train that had been idled at the station, and which is packed full with those waiting to be taken to safety. Instead, they are dragged out into the open. All around they can see people running about, and bodies lying everywhere amidst pools of clear, glistening slime. That same slime begins to pour in through the windows, making people slip against one another at first and then to stick to the seats. The helpless passengers become part of a savage game as the colossus smears the rail cars with his precum and then playfully sticks dozens of strugglign bodies to it. The rest of the crowd keeps trying to retreat, but they are penned in, and forced to suffer a front-row set for the awful show.

Puc's tail flops around, adding its own series of thumps and rumbles that shake the city's core. The train filled and covered with people and cum is hoisted upward, held with the last train dangling awkwardly along the back of the tiger's thigh. The front end is tilted downward, aiming right for the tiger's 'little' butt. And with a shove, metal bends and bodies are catapulted to the front of the train from the impact. Crooning, purring, and giggling, the TigerGodBoiToi crams that makeshift dildo into his rear, forcing the first section in with almost no effort. That's not to say that the bodies lining the bent and twisting metal railcar aren't getting punished, pummeled, squeezed, ground, and shred into little meaty bits. By its own muscle-flexing, the great cock lifts up and smacks down into the middle of frightened travelers, those glans forming a deep crater and filling up that ditch with sticky ooze. Another section gets pushed in, grinding the metallic dildo into the tiger's ass; and then it happens. The tiger's tight tailring squeezes and jerks in a way consistent with counter-thrusting against a lover's prick, splintering metal and crushing inwards with so much force that the little riders are instantly crushed, their blood and guts mingling with the tiger's own cum to form even more lube to fit that last car into.

The people stuck to the front of the first car must be mindless with terror, or if they are not, they certainly wish they were. They bellow out full-voiced screams as they are hoisted up between the muscular swells of the giant's ass and find themselves gazing at an enormous anus wider across by far than any of them are tall. Those near the edge of the train's front are simply squashed between the metal and the firm flesh, while those in the center suffer indescribably, their screams silenced as they are stuffed inside. The surrounding crowd falls eerily silent, the onlookers gazing glassy-eyed, unable to believe the extent of barbarity that they are witnessing. The only sounds now are the groan of metal, the agonized screams of the people being crushed against the skin of the car, and the thunderous groaning of the tigertitan as he stuffs the train car and its human cargo into his tailhole, turning it and them into nothing more than a pleasant asstoy.

Puc cups his fingers around the last railcar and slowly draws it in and out of his ass; he chuffs and huffs, crooning merrily at the wonderful sensation of having little wiggling things tickle his rear and fill his butt. With his free hand, the terrible tiger scoops up palms of little beings and grinds them to the underside of his dick, slipping and sliding their bodies painfully along his hard rod. Hormone-driven and pleasure-filled, it only takes a hundred or two little wriggling bodies crushed against his dick to send him into spasms. Arcing his back and crooning another purr, Puc grips the root of his fat prick and squeezes it, sending out a volley of pearly white cum with enough velocity that it shoots right through a skyscraper! Muscles tense and flex, crushing an already-mangled subway car while his dick fires another round, leaving a gaping hold in another office building. Hot jets of cum spurt wildly and almost in all directions, flinging helpless bodies from his cock like toy rockets from windowsills. Waves of cum rush down on the intersection a full two-minutes until that tremendous orgasm begins to taper off, and even still he has enough spunk to drown another section of tiny beings in. Young tigers are potent ones. A relieved sigh and satisfied grin later, and the tiger starts to relax, laying down on his side with his young prick flopping over his thigh. The makeshift buttplug is still sticking out of his tailhole when he stretches out, a footpaw tipping over another building carelessly.

The roar of the tiger's climax deafens many in the crowd below, while cannon-blasts of cum shoot past over their heads. Like cannonshells the great gouts of semen crash into buildings, leaving big holes oozing with spunk. It is unknown how many are buried by the flood of semen below, nor how many more are casually crushed as the monster suddenly lies down upon them. The enormous body stretches out upon a carpet of humanity, the survivors surrounding it like fibers in that rug. A few dazed survivors somehow manage to pry open the rear door of the railcar and peer out from between the giant's butt-cheeks at the vast carnage, the big striped legs lying atop people, the huge tail likewise pinning many others who struggle and plead beneath its bulk.

Puc's eyes close to half-lids again as he surveys the remnants of the humanity in his proximity. His hand mimics a person walking on two legs, fingers 'stomping' on little survivors as they trail through the mess. Those who seem to be in the best health get the cruelest treatment, such as the little tax attorney whose head is slowly press down with a fingertip until it pops. Puc eventually tires of this, too, and rolls over onto his back, his butt crushing what's left of the train and anyone else beneath it. "Mmm. It's still too early." Emptied of cum and devoid of care or consideration for the little city he's just pillaged, the tigertoi lazes back for an eventual nap, letting his nuts stir back to life with more cream to sprinkle on their little lives later.