A plume of smoke curled lazily towards the ornate tin-plated ceiling, escaping the fat cigar wedged between the thick lips of the bangle tiger. The walls of his office at Kahn Industries were adorned with dark wood paneling, intricately carved with ornate patterns that whispered tales of bygone eras. Shelves lined with leather-bound books, legal tomes, and dusty case files reached to the ceiling, creating an illusion of both knowledge and authority. Dimly lit gas lamps, with flickering flames, hung from wrought-iron fixtures overhead, casting elongated shadows that danced on the walls.

He sat in a large wing-back chair. The plush Victorian-style sofas and armchairs were strategically arranged in cozy grouping, upholstered in sumptuous fabrics of deep velvet and rich silks in jewel tones of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst.

“It’s not often you come to town to talk business. Usually I have to deal with one of your goons.” He said to his companion, seated across from him. “What’s changed?”

“Shere Khan, my darling. The world is getting smaller. Day by day.” Zira purred. The high, curvaceous backrest seemed to envelop her in its embrace, a throne for her allure. “It’s high-time I stop hiding in the mountains and start to put my energies towards what really matters.”

The lioness was a vision of poise and grace, sitting with impeccable posture, her back straight and shoulders gracefully relaxed. Her delicate, gloved hands held a teacup in one and the saucer in another. She sat with one leg crossed atop the other, purposely keeping the limb extended out, the point of her boot aimed at the tiger.

“Is that why there’s a Junkyard Dog standing on each side of my officer door?” The tiger scowled, referring to the private security the mistress used. “Those bastards are worse than the bloody Pinkertons.”

“When one is talking kings and successions, it pays to not be caught unawares.” Her fingers, adorned with delicate rings, held the cup with a practiced grace, and she brought it to her lips with a measured, unhurried elegance. Her gaze lowered to the figure that sat kneeling at her side. “But you shouldn’t flatter yourself, this trip to town is a mere formality. Checking up on one of my keener investments.”

Peg placed kiss after kiss over the top of Zira’s boot, starting at the toe and working her way up to the ankle. The naked pekineses was positioned before the mistress, sitting on her knees with her her legs tucked underneath her, so that her sizable rump was resting on her own calves. Her arms were held behind her back, yet they were left unrestrained. Tilting her head to the side, the madam started to run her tongue along the side of the ankle. She continued the chore made all the more difficult by the latex hood that wrapped around her head, her bared lips leaving a glossy trail up her mistress’s footwear in their wake.

“Are you speaking about one of our shared properties, or her?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

“Peggy put on a wonderful show recently.” Shere Khan nodded. “I was invited by two potential clients. Enjoyed every moment.” He chuckled as he inspected the form of the madam. The hood covered her head completely, both blindfolding and deafening her. There was only a single opening for her muzzle to poke through, the rest of her face reduced to a shiny black void. That is, save for a design that crossed over where her left eye would be, a symbol that resembled a jagged red scar. “But admittedly, not as much as I’m enjoying seeing her like this, right now.”

“I was wondering what drew you there. Must admit, her business really is one of my more entertaining acquisitions.”

“I wouldn’t mind an appointment for some time with her, if that’s amenable.” The tiger purred.

“Sorry dear, but I don’t meddle in her business.” Zira dropped her leg and leaned forward to cup the powerful madam’s muzzle and give it a hard squeeze. “Even if her and her establishment are nothing more than a drain on my finances. She is my pet and the fruit she bares cannot be calculated in dollars and cents.”