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Heart of the Lioness

Written by Amethyst Mare for kchishol1970

"Hold still," the seamstress mutters under her breath, Robin sighing theatrically. Tutting at her, the nimble-fingered mouse tugged at the hem of Robin's cloak, pinning the hem into place while her client fidgeted, unused to staying still for too long.

Robin had been whisked away from her bed chambers as soon as the Queen had deemed it a acceptable time to rise, leaving a startled John blinking sleep from his eyes. After taking Robin to breakfast, the Queen insisted that Robin made good use of her personal tailor so that she may fill her much larger wardrobe with fine clothes - clothes that would be far more suitable for her as a second wife to Prince Ryoga. And what girl would resist the temptation of a fresh wardrobe, packed with sultry clothes made of fabric that she could never have afforded otherwise? Certainly not Robin, when faced with this particular allure!

Oh yes: there were perks indeed!

Sylvia, who had been invited to watch with Sapphire (Princess Jasmine's sightless maid) shook her head in amusement, hearing Robin fidget and the seamstress mutter disapprovingly. In all honesty, the wolfess was staying reasonably still for the mouse to do her work, pinning and cutting so that the cloaks and sashes perfectly accentuated her body. The lioness supposed that she would be hard pressed not to wince and whine if she was jabbed with pins from time to time, so she made no comment and smiled warmly to Robin.

Sapphire, on the other hand, demonstrated an uncanny ability in their presence, stroking her fine paws over the extravagant fabrics and then identifying the by touch, even accurately stating the size of smaller bolts that could be stretched between two paws. She seemed to know instinctively what material would drape pleasingly over Robin's curvy frame without causing undue comfort. Once, she hardly suppressed a snort of laughter when the mouse pursed her lips and suggested a fabric that would both constrict Robin's breathing and ruffle her fur uncomfortably, even if it would have looked spectacular and suitable for royalty in any circle. Her corrections were so gentle that they could hardly be deemed outside suggestions at all and the Queen's tailor was gladly swapping preferred fabrics and designs with Sapphire by the time the fitting was drawing to a close.

"It needs something else," the Queen commented, circling Robin like a mother hen, critically appraising one of her more general outfits. "Accessories. Jewellery. They're missing. You have some stock with you, yes?" She continued, addressing her seamstress with a honeyed smile.

"These..." The tailor murmured, going to a small chest and drawing out ropes of fine jewellery in silver and gold, each link encrusted with a gemstone of a different colour.

"These," she went on, draping them around Robin's neck in thick ropes, layering them so that the wolfess' body was caressed and highlighted by the precious metal. "These are what you are looking for. All eyes will be on you and your body if you make use of necklaces such as this. But for more formal occasions...I think I have just the thing...but it shall require some adjustments for your shape, as it is too large right now, I would think."

From a nearby stand, the seamstress removed some cloaks to reveal a stunning, floor length, scarlet robe with ribbons of rubies and black sapphires criss-crossing the entire garment, sparkling wonderfully in the bright sunlight. The small gathering drew a collective gasp at its unrivalled beauty, Sapphire running her paws appreciatively over the material to gain her own understanding and murmuring her approval.

"No, not that one," Robin spoke up firmly, shaking her muzzle. Shocked the seamstress drew the robe back towards her, highly affronted by Robin's refusal.

"Why not?" Sylvia said in surprise, unable to stop herself as she had been eyeing the scarlet robe with great appreciation. "Is there something wrong with it, Robin?"

"Not so much wrong..." The wolfess brushed her hair back consciously, casting a wistful look at the shimmering fabric. "It will cover too much. Apart from restricting my movement... If Princess Jasmine will only wear outfits that cover her completely, I will only wear what shows off my body and what does not hide me away. If only it showed off more..."

"And it's a shame that it will be near impossible to fight like this," Robin said sadly, smoothing her paws down her sides as if especially conscious that her usual harness, with all its weapons and buckles, was no longer in place.

"But why would you be unable to fight?" The mouse tailor said in surprise, mollified by Robin's explanation of why she would not wear the concealing robe. "These hairpins here," she touches the pins that draw Robin's locks back and away from her neck. "They are not just for show, but precision balanced."

"And... Why do my hairpins need to be balanced?" Robin queried, tilting her head thoughtfully. Perking her rounded ears forward, the seamstress, gestured to Robin.

"Pull out a pin and throw it against the wall - you will see," she said mysteriously, stepping back with a smile to give Robin space.

Shrugging and thinking that to try cannot do any harm, Robin selected a long, silver pin from the bunch and hurled it with all her strength at the wall. The pin flew straight and true, like a balanced throwing knife, sinking deeply into the wall with wooden boards and quivering like an arrow fired from the bow. The room was silent for a moment and Robin strode over to the shaking pin, inspecting it; the silver headpin was driven itself so far and so firmly into the wall that she could not pull it out with brute force, the soft pads on her fingertips unable to grasp it tightly enough.

"So, I see," she said, eyes lighting up. "Is there anything else as subtle as this that I can use?" Pondering for a moment, the seamstress paws delicately through a small trunk, searching for something.

"Well, to begin with, these pins can be telescoped as stabbing weapons also, if you will allow me to demonstrate..."

She locates what she is searching for and flourishes it with a triumph - a small, dagger-like stiletto. Robin swishes her tail slowly, not seeing the use at first, but "oh's" softly when the seamstress takes two pins and locks them to either side of the stiletto, transforming the innocent item into a deadly weapon, the silver headpins gleaming dangerously.

"Of course, I will look into other hidden ways in which you can defend yourself without appearing to carry arms," the mouse said with a smug, little smile at her beautiful weapons. "Until then, you will be able to protect your husband and yourself very effectively - if needed, that is. We certainly hope that it will never come to that. In addition, these pins can be envenomed. The poison we most commonly use causes death and paralysis within a few minutes but, if you wish to utilise this weapon, you would require a series of injections to build up your immunity to the toxin. Accidents have been known to happen, after all..."

"I want the injections," Robin said bluntly, leaving no room for doubt. "Anything that will give me an advantage, I want it - so I can protect and defend to the best of my ability. I don't intend to let others fight while I sit back and twiddle my thumbs."

The seamstress nodded and made a note of that, assuring Robin that she would arrange for the injections to be prepared as soon as possible. Sapphire, inspecting a rack of fabric, turned to Robin, seeming to know her exact position in the room although the wolfess' movements were quiet and unobtrusive.

"Silk is stronger than you would expect," Sapphire commented thoughtfully, smiling as her muzzle bobbed sightlessly at the younger fur. "Those sashes - they can be used to block attacks and, more conventionally, to bind limbs, so you may disable your opponent. If you have time, I can explain many to you so that you may be equipped to deal with more unusual situations."

"I'd love to learn more about that, thank you, Saph!" Robin yipped happily, her tail beating against the tutting seamstress' side. "We'll have to arrange a convenient time for both of us, as I would not like to take you away from your duties with Princess Jasmine. Which brings me to ask, how are you adjusting to the palace? Are you finding it well here?"

"It is most comfortable here and I thank you for your hospitality and kindness, Robin," Sapphire said, her face lighting up with the pleasure of conversation. "I have had to spend some time memorizing the pattern of these hallways, so that I may carry out my duties with Princess Jasmine, but I am slowly gaining a better knowledge of them. Soon, I will not have a problem at all, I am sure."

Leaving them to their conversation, the tailor sorted through the clothes that needd to be sewn and adjusted, pins already in place to show what needed to be done. Sylvia looked about uncertainly, wondering if she had any requirement to stay - she really should have returned to the harem by this time - and relaxed when the Queen beckoned her away and out of the door. In the corridor, they stepped away from the closed door, to ensure their privacy.

"Sylvia, something has come to my attention, particularly now that we have Ryoga home safely with us once again," she said with a gentle smile. "You are the only one who has not had a citizenship trial yet."

Startled, Sylvia shook her head to buy a few seconds in which to think, whiskers twitching unconsciously as a pair of male ferrets walked past, the eyes of one grazing her breasts with evident appreciation. Coughing lightly, the lioness re-adjusted her harness, waiting until they were out of earshot as a warm glow spread over her muzzle.

"Well," she began slowly, her leonine tail lashing the air thoughtfully. "I have not truly had time to consider my own initiation, as I have been trying to help the girls adjust in the best way that I can, at least..."

She was quiet, the Queen patiently waiting for her to finish, as there was a sense that Sylvia had left the most important details unsaid, hanging in the air. Feeling the prick of tears in the corner of her eye, Sylvia brushed the back of her paw against her muzzle surreptitiously, pretending that there was a speck of dirt sullying her fur.

"I just don't think I'm ready yet," she added quietly, an air of guilt stealing over her. "Even now...I'm not comfortable. There's still a block for me, something still wrong. The girls are so far ahead of me, so much more a part of Jahaliya than I am... I fear that I am drifting away from them as they learn and grow, knowing not to be self-conscious and knowing to express themselves entirely as they desire. It might be too late for me. I'm not as...slutty as everyone wants me to act..."

"My dear, who said anything about 'everyone'?" The Queen said, rubbing Sylvia's shoulder gently. "This is about you and not any other fur - let them think what they want. You have nothing to be ashamed of! You are adjusting at your own pace and you should not be forced into anything by anyone."

Exhaling deeply, Sylvia considered this, realising that, although the Queen was correct and there was nothing to truly be ashamed of...she still was. She wanted to be a Jahaliyan. She wanted to be sexually free and stop twitching whenever she caught another male so much as glancing at her with interest. Yes, change had to be had...one way or another.

"That being said, we would like to help you adjust, Sylvia," the Queen said thoughtfully, drawing Sylvia from her pondering. "Let me think now...yesterday.... Did you enjoy the wedding orgy at all?"

Blushing, Sylvia nodded her head once, mumbling something that sounded like, "very much", under her breath and the Queen smiled, as if she had expected this answer and was pleased with it.

"Why did you like it? What was good about it, for you?" The Queen prodded delicately.

The lioness hung her head, struggling to fight through the many and conflicting feelings she had about the event. Why had she so enjoyed herself?

"It was being so exposed and having so many furs watching as Horace made love to me," she admitted finally, looking up in earnest to the Queen. "It was...delicious, like taking a bite of a sweet, rare fruit, but one that I could take over and over again. To have his penis inside of me while everyone else watched in lust and wished to share was one of the most arousing moments that I have so far experienced."

"Hm..." The Queen pursed her lips. "It is a fair and honest answer, I can see, but your language is still very formal - almost clinical, like they would use in the medical bays - for what took place."

"I am sorry," Sylvia replied, her blush deepening. "I just can't...quite make myself use...rougher language yet... Only when I'm having an orgasm. Then it seems much easier to be lewd. It's something I can't shake...among other things..."

Trailing off, Sylvia sighed heavily, her tail drooping as if it could no longer sustain the effort to prevent the tip from dragging upon the floor. Taking her arm, the Queen smiled sympathetically and led her down the corridor, supposedly to their next shared engagement of the day.

"Do not worry," the Queen said softly. "Your language use at least will be a strong indication of when you are liberated, when you speak without restraint or persuasion. But, come now, we have much to do."

*

"What meeting is this now?" Sylvia said absently, a few days later, consulting a trailing scroll of parchment that detailed her commitments for the day; Horace walked at her side, his lengthier stride easily matching her hurried pace. "These matters all merge into one, these days. I never thought that I would be rushed from place to place, all in the matter of diplomacy."

"There is certainly a lot to consult, in that case," Horace said agreeably, stepping ahead so that he may open the gilded door for her. "But I daresay we will find out in due course - we are only to sit in on this one."

The quiet murmur of voices faded out as the pair stepped into the room, with only a few furs being present. The small cluster of furs, which included the Queen, several Jahaliyans unfamiliar to Sylvia and three tight-fisted envoys, were seated around a round table with two places unoccupied. A jaguar turned - one of the envoys - disgruntled at being halted mid-sentence, eyeing Sylvia up and down with a critical, almost contemptuous eye. She wore a pair of calf-hugging black boots with a well-polished sheen and a flowing cape, which fell from her shoulders and shone in the sunlight, thanks to the intricate, silver detailing. Her head was capped with a magnificent feathered headdress, jet black and threaded with silver; it fell in a mantle over her shoulders like a lion's mane.

It was the remainder of her outfit, however, which caught Sylvia's attention, however, as the jaguar wore an ensemble constructed of cream pies. Two smaller pies were pressed over her breasts, covering only the nipples effectively and drawing the eye more than anything else, while her crotch and rear bore larger additions, one cream pie on each rear cheek. It reminded Sylvia of the daring outfits that she had admired from afar - the one's worn to the high-class ceremonies and gatherings (they would always be splashed over the newspapers).

"I want him too," the jaguar said demandingly, turning to the Queen with a glint in her eye. When the Queen shook her head in confusion, not understanding who or what the she wanted, the jaguar sighed and pointed to Horace with insulting exaggeration. "Him, I want that hung bear, whoever he is, as well as the trade concessions we've agreed upon."

Sylvia stiffened, her fur standing on end, and Horace's jaw fell slack at the strange feline's audacity. How dare she demand Horace like a...like a...well, Sylvia could find no other words for it; she spoke of Horace as if he was a slave, just goods to be exchanged for money or services. Without thinking, she narrowed her eyes threateningly at the jaguar, claws outstretched from the tips of her fingers and tail lashing furiously, but the jaguar was not even looking at her - she had not even noticed her discontent!

"I am sorry to cause you disappointment, but that is quite impossible, Iskierka," the Queen remarked dryly, not giving an inch to the jaguar's obscene demands. "Citizens of Jahaliya are not goods to be negotiated, especially the lover of the harem matron, the harem of which belongs to my son. If I may introduce Horace to you formally, he is also the harem's instructor, a post that he may not abandon without just cause, as I am sure you see."

The jaguar, so named 'Iskierka', snorted dismissively at that piece of information, waving her paw as if she had heard it all before. It was clearly of little consequence in swaying her wishes, however, even if Horace was actively listening in the room, arms folded across his chest in quiet, although unworried, distaste.

"Hah! I've heard of that frigid bitch," Iskierka laughed aloud. "Not from here and too restrained to enjoy a man like a woman should, even if she deigns to 'conform' and show off her body. What good is she to him? Let a real woman take him on."

"Frigid?" Sylvia snarled, stepping forward at once, unforgiving to the insult. "I love Horace - what can you say to that? To be so rude in the presence of the fur himself and the Queen, I hardly think you have manners enough to stand here and face me directly."

"Oh, what have manners to do with it, cat?" Iskierka sneered unpleasantly, scraping her chair away from the table with a grinding screech and posed, rather than stood, showing off her body as confidently as Sylvia taught her lessons.

"His lust, his love and his standing are utterly wasted on you," Iskierka continued maliciously, advancing upon Sylvia, who was open-mouthed and frozen in place. "It would be a kindness to him, if he was to see sense and join my expansive harem of studs - he would certainly prefer it to the likes of your company."

The lioness went quite still with not even the tip of her tail twitching as she digested this new information. Her Horace...a harem stud? Surely a place of high regard in her society, but to be so far away from her and with that cat, of all furs! A low growl built in Sylvia's throat and the Queen made a motion to quell her, which she rebelliously ignored - this was her battle to fight and she would be damned if she didn't put that accursed feline in her place at the end of it! Horace, the tossed about source of the disquiet, reached to touch her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but she only shrugged him off, whiskers bristling as she turned her steely gaze upon Iskierka.

"You will not make love to Horace!" Sylvia roared out, the force of the sound making the picture frames on the wall tremble and the furs flinch reflexively.

"Oh, is that all you've got?" The jaguar smirked, curling her tail around one muscled thigh, her body relaxed under the attention. "All this does is prove my point, dear Sylvia. The way you hold yourself, like you have a right to him, even the language you use. You're no slut if you will not use the proper words or only make love to any fur. So to say, you will not fuck!"

Horace lunged forward, catching Sylvia halfway through an ill-judged, reckless leap at the jaguar, though he fought to angle his body so that she would not feel his stiffening member pressing against her fur, not after that spectacle. It was difficult to hold oneself back when there was a leonine, sultry female fighting for his favour, he thought to himself, and Sylvia only faintly registered his arousal, as intent as she was upon her snide opponent.

"Enough!" The Queen said in a tone that would not be argued with. "This is between the two of you, but I will not send the harem's teacher away unless he wishes to leave...which does not seem very likely at the moment," she added, smiling privately at the sight of Horace's hard shaft.

"Now," she went on sternly, "there is one way in which to settle this. Will you agree to a duel of honour to prove which one is the most sexually liberated, to put it delicately, or a wild, free slut, to put it in its true, proper terms? A duel between the two of you with no interference from outside participants unless safety becomes an issue."

"Your Highness," Iskierka answered swiftly with a respectful nod. "I accept the duel."

"As do I," Sylvia said a heartbeat later. "What are the terms?"

"Hm...well, if I win, as I am certain to, I get Horace for my harem, given his acceptance of such a high, esteemed position," the jaguar said smugly. "It would be a grand step up, with great rewards. And, when I do win, you will have to watch him enjoy a real slut for once. Maybe you should take notes, so you do not 'lose' another male in this fashion."

"And if I win?" Sylvia retorted coolly, refusing to be driven to anger again, though her hands curled and uncurled into tight, uneasy fists.

"Well, to be fair with the terms... If you win, lioness, you can keep your male, but you must fuck my own harem to prove yourself as a Jahaliyan slut. One day, you'll have to, and I may as well hasten your progress if it comes to that."

Coldly, Sylvia regarded the jaguar, who she was coming to see was a nasty, malicious piece of work, only interested in serving herself. Despite her misgivings about her nature and standing in Jahaliya, there was only one answer that she could give:

"So it is done: I agree to these terms."

*

Led with misgivings to a small, clean waiting room near the stadium - it was normally used for tournaments, which were only conducted in the name of entertainment - Sylvia paced and berated herself. It was only a few hours after her clash with the jaguar, but she was already regretting her rash decision to fight her openly, even if her cause was just and she would die first, rather than see Horace be with her.

"This should never have happened," she fretted. "If I was not so stubborn and easily angered by that cat... This should never have happened."

"My dear, please, calm yourself," Horace interjected worriedly, drawing her to him in a tight hug, which only eased her physical pacing. "No matter what happens, I am not going to stop loving you just because some other fur says I should. A fur with little respect for anyone, nonetheless. You have nothing to fear, whatever the outcome, darling."

"Don't be silly, Horace," she snapped. "A place in her harem should take you away. It is a perfect opportunity to advance yourself in the world, obtain more for yourself and honour for Jahaliya."

"Perhaps it would be as you say," Horace said resolutely, directing her towards the door, which led to the stadium. "But I have no interest in that sort of thing and I beg you not to dwell on it now, as you will see the truth for yourself. You have the strength and lust within you to win this duel: you only have to let it out. Now, come."

Gulping loudly, Sylvia padded, down the short tunnel to the amphitheatre where the Queen lounges on a balcony, the girls, Ryoga, John, Lydra, Sapphire and many more furs crowded into a bursting audience, their excitement palatable in the air. The tiered seats rose high above Sylvia, who was suddenly struck by how alone she was in this fight, although she had the support of her friends and lover staunchly behind her. The middle of the stadium was smooth and unmarred by boundaries or evidence of previous scuffles and Sylvia wondered how this battle of sluts would be conducted...there had to be some trick in the making. Across the stadium from her, Iskierka smirked and made a subtle but rude gesture.

"Citizens of Jahaliya!" The Queen called out, her voice amplified by magic. "I welcome you to The Battle of the Sluts! Today, we will determine which of these felines is the raunchiest, sluttiest and the lewdest!"

Holding herself steady, Sylvia nodded to Horace that he could take his place in the stands, not trusting herself to speak. It all came down to this.

"Raise the battle platform!" The Queen shouted jubilantly, leaning forward to watch as the floor of the stadium groaned, splitting down the middle and sliding apart to allow the platform to rise.

Sylvia almost laughed as the platform was raised: it was none other than a giant cream pie with a ripe cherry the size of a basketball sitting delectably upon the peak. The contestants were given the signal to take up their positions and Sylvia scrambled to the edge of the cream pie, waiting patiently for her harness to be removed for this battle. The jaguar, wearing even less, sneered in a decidedly uncouth manner, as Sylvia was stripped nude.

"I'll win this in ten seconds, cat, and fuck Horace in front of you before I take him away from you," she jeered cruelly. "You'll never see your 'lover' again!"

Levelly, Sylvia stared at her over the pie, thinking of how selfish this feline was, to want to take away all she had in the world, mock her and shame her in front of her friends and lover. Her whole body felt very cool, as if she had been doused in a vat of ice water, and was strangely numb: she was fighting for everything in her life.

"Damn you," Sylvia hissed with dangerous intent, leaping up to the brim of the pie and balancing there precariously. "Damn you to hell. You'll have nothing of the sort!"

A horn blared out at ear-splitting volume, signalling the start of the fight, and Sylvia dived into the cream before the Iskierka had the chance to clamber over the edge in a more ungainly style. Up to her chest in the soft, smooth cream, Sylvia growled angrily, lunging for the jaguar and grabbing her arms, fighting to push her down with her heftier, lioness' build. The whipped cream flew through the air as Iskierka, surprised at Sylvia's sudden move, grappled with her, letting herself be pushed down, only to slither around to Sylvia's side and strike from there, throwing her critically off-balance.

"Why don't you just give up now?" Iskierka taunted, smashing a pawful of cream into Sylvia's muzzle with a mocking laugh. "You're just an uptight loser who doesn't deserve what she is given too much of!"

"As opposed to a bitter cat who can't get a good male without putting others down for it?" Sylvia panted viciously, thrusting her paws against the jaguar's bosom; Iskierka stumbled back and conceded a precious arms-length of space to Sylvia.

The cherry had been tossed aside in their frenzied wrestling and Sylvia made a grab for it - it was the only weapon in the vicinity besides what their bodies could do - and brought it down heavily upon Iskierka's head. Instead of dazing the jaguar, like Sylvia had vaguely expected, the fruit splattered into tiny, delicious fragments, revealing a double-ended, pink, rubber dildo, which bounced off Iskierka's muzzle and disappeared into the cream. Seeing her chance at last, Sylvia dove for it, but the jaguar was just as quick, pushing her out of the way as they both fought to get a grip on the now slippery sex toy.

As the dildo slipped from her grasp, Sylvia felt a bubble of anger rising up in her stomach, one that could not be contained this time. Who did she think she was, to take what was rightfully and justly hers just because she took a fancy to it? Horace could choose for himself and he had already chosen her!

"What the hell did you have to come here for?" Sylvia shouted, colour rising to her cheeks in fury. "Why did you have to decide you could take him away from me? What did I ever do to you? All I wanted was a home with someone who loved me - and now you think you can snatch him up just like that? FUCK YOU!"

Sylvia dived for Iskierka, forgetting the dildo, and pinned her to the edge of the stage, snarling in her face when the startled jaguar tried to wriggle free, the slick cream aiding her escape, which only fuelled Sylvia's anger. All the jaguar could do was retreat and block the relentless barrage of fast-paced attacks that Sylvia launched, the lioness breathing heavily and her eyes narrowed into thin, dangerous slits, wishing to see her opponent subdued and nothing less. Under their feet, the dildo rolled, kicked from side to side, until Sylvia finally managed to grasp and raise the toy with a triumphant roar - which was echoed lustfully by the crowd.

Now for the jaguar...

The jaguar made a futile, reckless dive out of the way, seeing her chances of winning the duel swiftly disappearing, but Sylvia only growled and caught her in midair, holding the squirming feline against her body with a one-armed strength that she didn't know she had. With her opponent pinned in place, Sylvia shoved the dildo into the jaguar's conveniently accessible pussy - she really should not have been flailing her legs so much - and pumps it back and for, letting the toy bottom out in Iskierka's cunny before pulling it back.

Belatedly remembering the dual features of the dildo in her paw, Sylvia smirked in a most uncharacteristic manner and threw the jaguar down into the messy cream. She didn't give her opportunity to rest, however, with the dildo deep in her cunt, and pounced on to the exhausted cat, holding her down with a paw placed firmly between her hefty breasts. The dildo was very flexible, being made of rubber, so Sylvia was easily able to bend it in the middle into an "L" shape, pushing the free end of the toy into her own pussy with a throaty moan. Flushed with lust, she pushed down with her hips, taking as much of the thick dildo into her pussy as possible and then using her leverage to "thrust" it into the jaguar, who yowled, though whether from surprise or pleasure, Sylvia was unsure. It didn't matter.

It's these women who have always looked down at me, thinking me just hired help, easy to bully... Women like her, Sylvia thought vivaciously, pounding the dildo harder, the distant roar of the crowd sounding like it was coming from very far away. I couldn't stand up to them or even compete with them to catch the interest of any man I liked... Fuck her! And fuck all those others who didn't give a damn!

The jaguar hissed, fighting the pleasure, but gave in as that fake phallus rubbed against that extra-sensitive patch of nerves within her cunny, the cat collapsing and writhing in throes of pleasure. Sylvia's enthusiastic thrusts and grinds only served to propel her to greater heights, the two feline's damp bodies rubbing against one another and Sylvia's breasts bouncing wildly, nipples standing up through the light fur. An exhilarating rush of power seared through the lioness, panting open-mouthed as she subdued her rival - the one who would have had her thrown aside. Well, not this time!

Sylvia looks up all of a sudden, spotting Horace high in the stands, his eyes fixed upon her gyrating form. His body was rigid, cock rock hard and visibly seen to be quivering, even from a distance, but his paw was hardly stroking his shaft, as his lioness stole the majority of his attention. Though his tongue hung lustfully from his muzzle, he leaned forward as if he wished to make a dangerous leap to join her on the stage, barely restraining himself. Sylvia's gaze swept over the rest of the crowd - though none were as important to her as Horace - seeing the males panting and pawing eagerly at their cocks, she commanding their attention! Her, Sylvia!

Driven to greater heights and with an exhibitionist thrill streaking through her, Sylvia pounced on top of the jaguar, the dildo bending to accommodate the new position and bent into a "U" shape. Sylvia winked to the wide-eyed Iskierka, her paws kneading the jaguar's breasts with a delighted purr, and really - there were no other words for it - fucked her. Like her lover, Sylvia growled and drove her hips forward, pounding the dildo hard and fast into Iskierka, who writhed and squirmed, arms limp at her sides. There was no fight left in her when she finally came, roaring breathlessly, and Sylvia grinned, feeling the ebb of her own orgasm rising, but that could wait.

Iskierka moaned and fell back in the cream, her eyes lidded with sexual exhaustion while her 'conqueror' rose gracefully to her feet, dildo in paw to raise her arms triumphantly to the crowd. The audience roared as one, stamping their feet like a horde of wild animals; the sound was deafening and the very ground shook beneath Sylvia's feet, although she stood tall and strong, smiling proudly as Horace cheered for her, a spray of his cum jetting shockingly into the air.

"But your challenge is not over yet," Iskierka finally got out, propping herself up on one elbow. "I'll admit that you've bested me in the duel, but you have to face my studs - my harem. Can you do that, or can't you?"

She's right, Sylvia thought, surprised that the knowledge was not accompanied by any sort of sinking feeling. I do...and I look forward to it!

Leaving Iskierka sprawled in the mess of their duel, Sylvia padded to the edge of the stadium where a string of studs stood: a tiger, lion, bull and, exotically, a feathery-winged wolftaur. Pausing over this specimen for longer than was strictly necessary, Sylvia noticed with a mixture of surprise and delight that he had a second cock placed roughly where it would have been if he was humanoid, along with the standard sheath and large balls on his feral part. He smiled back at her, a glint of anticipation in the pleasant curve of his lips, and bowed his head respectfully; Sylvia grinned and nodded her muzzle in return, licking her lips at the very idea of fucking this exotic, manly fur.

"Line up, please," Sylvia said in her best school-mistress voice, although the effect was spoiled by her cheeky grin and the playful swish of her tail.

They were quick to comply with her wishes and Sylvia stalked along their line, allowing them many a glimpse of her pussy, which was moist with her own juices. Going to the tiger, who stood at the head of the line, she admired his form for a moment, his fine stripes and glowing fur melting into the soft cream of his stomach. The pink, barbed cock sliding out of the dark sheath was another, more eye-catching feature in her currently horny state, however. Cautiously, for she had had an experience with a painfully barbed cock sometime during her youth, she reached out to run her fingertips lightly up the length and was surprised to feel that the barbs was quite smooth, unlikely to hurt at all. On the contrary...they were set to cause her a great deal of pleasure when she fucked this male!

Giving his balls a gentle grope, the tiger rolling his eyes back in pleasure, Sylvia moved on to the lion, murring low in her throat. She ran both her paws down the thin coat of fur covering his chest, reminiscent of his habitation of a much warmer climate, and teased his shaft with just the tips of her short claws, openly enjoying the feel of a thick cock under her fingers. Faintly, she was reminded of the weekly trips to the farmer's market, in which she would compare fruit, always indecisive about which one would be the most delicious to taste. Only, in this 'market' comparison, she didn't have to choose any single one, as all were open for her pleasure.

The Queen, however, frowned at the disarray Sylvia trailed behind her, a smattering of cream and scarlet juice from the smashed cherry, thinking it was not becoming of the new citizen of Jahaliya to let the cream dry into a sticky mess in her soft fur. She gestured to an arena attendant, who ran to a control post, pressing a succession of buttons until jets of water streamed from hidden pumps around the stadium, sending a fine mist and drizzle down upon the group of furs below.

Sylvia shivered delightedly at the sensation of the water falling over her body and making her whiskers quiver gently. The males stepped forward to assist her, trailing their paws all over her body to wipe the cream from her form, although they were not subtle in their groping of her. Tossing her head back and letting her damp hair fall from her shoulders, Sylvia smiled open-mouthed and leaned against the bull, grabbing one of his horns to pull his head down to the level of hers, her lips tickling his ear.

"Fuck me!"

Bellowing lowly, the bull picked Sylvia up so that they were nose to nose, lowering her slowly on to his throbbing hard-on as she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist tightly. She grabbed on to his shoulders and pressed her face into his neck to give the bull playful, little nips and licks, the feel of his cock pumping into her cunt simply exquisite. She was only dimly aware of the crowd but still aware, nonetheless - especially of the girls. Sylvia could hear them right at the front of the pulsing crowd, cheering and hollering, flashes of colour in the background of the scene she commanded.

The bull finished with a manly grunt and the lioness was immediately taken into the arms of the lion, who lay her down on her back, careful not to jostle her unnecessarily in his horniness. Kneeling between her spread legs, he lifted them up to his shoulders so that her rear was on his thighs, perfectly positioned for him to thrust in swiftly, burying his cock in that soft, tight warmth.

Unwilling to let the others have all the fun and uncomfortably hard, the tiger harem male knelt over Sylvia's head, offering his barbed cock to her softly parted lips, purring happily at the view he was offered. Sylvia was not going to say no, however, and reached over her head to pull him to her, sucking on his cock with wild abandon; the tiger moaned appreciatively, bucking lightly into her muzzle, though he was inclined to let the skilled lioness work over his dick without interference.

Sylvia shivered as the lion shifted his weight slightly, those barbs - that she had noticed on the tiger's cock earlier, which he also was blessed with - rubbed deliciously against the walls of her pussy, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. She had little room to wriggle between the two virile males and instead bucked her hips in ecstasy, giving muffled moans and whimpers through her climax, the lion pumping his hips slowly to draw out her pleasure.

Oh my... Sylvia thought, trembling with the force of her orgasm. This is...this is heaven! To have all these studs fucking me, wanting me...and everyone watching!

The lion was quick to cum deep in her pussy with the rippling and clenching of her depths and the tiger lay his paws on Sylvia's breasts, groping and rubbing them gently; the lioness' appreciation was shown with hearty purrs as she lashed his cock tip with her tongue, begging him wordlessly to cum in her mouth. Then, with a grunt, the tiger hilted his cock in her muzzle, the tip tickling the back of Sylvia's throat, and came in a rush, the lioness swallowing rapidly and reflexively to keep up with the delicious torrent.

With three out of four males taken care of, Sylvia rose away from the felines and turned, with a shiver, to the wolftaur she had so anticipated having. She beckoned him over and hugged him, though with his greater size (he was elevated by his feral half) her muzzle only reached his stomach even when she stretched up on the tips of her toes.

"Take me up into the air," she said determinedly, though her eyes glittered and her muscles tensed expectantly. "I want to fuck you while flying."

The wolftaur raised his eyebrows at this unusual procedure, but swept Sylvia up into his arms with an agreeable murmur, nuzzling at her cheek affectionately. Flapping his wings twice, he scattered the other males as he leapt into the air, great, sweeping wing-strokes powering him upwards at an exhilarating pace. Shrieking with joy, Sylvia clung to his anthro half, arms tight around his chest and legs encircling his waist. In such a position and with the slow, rocking motion of his flight, Sylvia could not help but rub her buttocks against his hardening cock, the fleshy rod with a half-formed knot sliding slickly between her cheeks.

The world spun dizzyingly as the wolftaur performed a dramatic dive, turning Sylvia around in midair so that her back pressed to his chest, arms clutching his in giddy exhilaration. She faced out into open air, the stadium shifting below her in a writhing throng of furs, all craning their necks to look up at the lioness. Looking back at the wolftaur over her shoulder, she only gave him a bright smile in warning and 'sat' down on his shaft, trusting her partner to support her through the dangerous but exhilarating act.

The crowd gasped appreciatively at the show, watching as Sylvia rode the wolftaur in midair, the yipping male thrusting eagerly into the lioness as she moaned and splayed her legs wide, dangerously close to falling, if not for his tight hold upon her waist and hips. His other, feral cock was hard and dripped on to their audience as they flew and fucked, to screams of delight from the audience, some of whom raised their paws eagerly to catch what pre cum 'rained' down. Though she felt close to falling at times, Sylvia bucked and moaned around his length, grinding her hips down as his knot swelled larger, rubbing wonderfully against her clit. The wolftaur's knot spread her open just a fraction more with every thrust and Sylvia panted heavily, desperate to have it locked it into her pussy.

"Higher!" She cried out passionately, her hair tossed by the wind. "Fuck me higher!"

Obligingly, the wolftaur soared higher, beating his feathered wings hard against the wind and letting loose a string of barks: his knot had finally sunk into Sylvia's cunny. Higher than ever, Sylvia stretched her legs into thin air, imagining herself on the edge of falling, although she knew that her partner would never let that happen; imagining being fucked with nothing physically holding or supporting her, so far above the ground, made her moan softly, the racing pleasure mounting with her fantasy. Making small movements upon the wolftaur's cock, Sylvia squeezed with her vaginal muscles, the need to have her partner cum inside her entirely overwhelming.

So... Sylvia thought dreamily, on the edge of orgasm, the ground and the world seeming oh so far away. What's gone is gone, the uptight life is gone. Who am I...that is the question... I am a naked warrior slut having a damn good fuck in midair!

Thrilled beyond belief and with all eyes on her, Sylvia came with a howl of pleasure, the wolftaur following suit soon after, his seed pouring into her cunny with enough force that she wondered briefly if he had been restrained from cumming before - he had so much to give! Some seed leaked out of her pussy around his knot and dripped on to the crowd below. They descended slowly, the wolftaur circling so that everyone may gain an excellent view of their copulation; Sylvia's belly bulged noticeably with the size of the member and knot buried in her hot snatch.

Once the rush of their orgasms faded, the wolftaur flew back to the stage and gently deposited her on the ground, sharing a sly kiss with the lioness before releasing her from the circle of his muscled arms. Sylvia waved her tail tip in a flirty way at him as she sauntered to the Queen, head held high and cum dripping from her flushed pussy, showing pink between her thighs.

"Who approaches me?" The Queen asked loftily, betrayed by the twinkle in her eye.

"A slut of Jahaliya who loves to fuck approaches you, your Majesty," Sylvia replied in kind, lowering herself sinuously to her knees as Ryoga stood and approached her.

"So we see," he said with a grin, his cock hard and covered with the creamy remnants of his climax. He rested his paw lightly upon her bowed head and addressed the assembled crowd in a booming voice, amplified once more by magic.

"I now pronounce you a citizen of Jahaliya!" He declared as the crowd roared their approval, citizens leaping to hug each other, delighted for the harem matron to be one of them at long last.

Sylvia stiffened with surprise; she had not expected something so grand to come of what had seemed a rough and tumble duel! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Iskierka stagger to her feet, nodding her head just the once in what seemed to be an approving gesture, the stadium ringing with shouts of congratulation. Her heart swelled with pride as it sank in that, yes, she was now a Jahaliyan: she had passed her own initiation!

And there was a pulsing cock in her face.

Unable to resist the sudden impulse, Sylvia leaned forward those few, tantalising inches to lick the tip of his cock with great relish. She smiled a little to herself as Ryoga gasped, evidently shocked at her boldness, and only let her lips slide down over his length, reaching around to grab his butt with both paws to keep him in place for her pleasure. Ryoga, far from desiring to pull away, moaned loudly, bucking his hips to thrust into the lioness' warm, enticing muzzle.

"Oh," Ryoga murred warmly, resting his paw on the top of Sylvia's head. "Oh, yes, suck it good..."

The Queen looked on proudly as Sylvia ran her tongue along the underside of Ryoga's cock, collecting the drooling pre on the tip of her tongue and swallowing it, her eyes half closing at the wonderful taste. Despite having been pleased excessively during the duel, Ryoga was all too keen to cum again, murmuring his delight at having Sylvia, the uninhibited, happy Sylvia, pleasure him and take so much in return. He thrust his meat into Sylvia's muzzle until, with a drawn out howl, he spurted his cum into her mouth, pouring some of it straight down the lioness' throat. With too much seed in her mouth than she could swallow in one gulp, Sylvia moved back and pointed his spurting cock at her muzzle, smiling as the cum covered her fur and dripped down to her breasts.

"Sylvia!"

Rising with cum coating her muzzle and lips excessively, Sylvia started a little to see Horace rushing towards her, slipping between rows of Jahaliyans who kindly let him pass easily; his cock bobbed in midair, carving out a path through the audience, who only giggled and called out encouragement to him. Ignoring the mess of cum all over the lioness, he hugged her tightly to him, refusing to let go and planting a deep kiss upon her lips.

"I'm so proud of you, Sylvia," he said, beaming. "So proud."

"Thank you, Horace," she answered with a white grin of her own, feeling his hard cock trapped between their warm bodies. The inkling of an idea was given life and she let her paw fall to caress his throbbing shaft, collecting the smeared cum into her paw as she pumped her paw slowly along his dick.

"Save that for tomorrow," she said with a smirk. "There's a little something I would like your help with, dear."

*

The next morning, the harem girls trotted into their main chamber, used for rest and relaxation, only to become privy to a surprising sight: Sylvia and Horace sprawled out on a mound of pillows, fucking freely. The lioness cried out in pleasure as Horace thrust into her, spurred on by their audience, one of her legs stretched right up so that it brushed against Horace's muzzle, giving him easy access to her cunny and providing the girls with a vivid view. Shocked, the girls were silent for a stretch, seeming to wonder if they should leave them in private for a while longer, though Natasha gave a little "whoop" and danced on the spot, her joy at seeing Sylvia so uninhibited given voice.

"Um, Sylvia," Eleanor began, a bright smile curving her lips up. "What's going on?"

"Not that we mind, of course," Tina added, her smile a bit more of a smirk as she murred appreciatively, enjoying the show.

"Hello, ladies," Sylvia said cheerfully, behaving as if there was nothing at all out of the ordinary even as she shuddered and gasped through an orgasm. "Since I've had some interesting revelations and experiences of late, I've been revising what I expect from your behaviour as citizens of Jahaliya."

She gestured to the back of the chamber, where a line of grinning, well-hung male furs stepped forward, the wolftaur standing proudly at the end. The girls raised their eyebrows at this addition to their chambers, privately hoping that they would be a permanent feature of the rooms, or at least for a little while. The males looked to the girls with just as much interest, the tip of the wolftaur's shaft peeking out from its plump sheath, betraying his excitement already.

"The Queen was very eager to help me get him over here," Sylvia chuckled, nodding her head to the wolftaur who gave a sweeping, respectful bow in return, although his wide smile never once shifted from his muzzle.

Maneuvering herself into a sitting position on top of Horace, who raised his upper body slightly from the bed of pillows to keep his lover steady, Sylvia pants quietly and rocks back on his thrusts. As if entirely unconcerned, she reached over to retrieve a sheaf of papers, ran her gaze over the contents of her notes and then put them aside, turning to the girls with a pleased but serious smile.

"Now, I would love you all to fuck away like proper sluts, as is your right and pleasure to here," she started, smoothing her whiskers thoughtfully, "your professional behavior cannot be allowed to slack. I expect you to behave as warriors of Jahaliya and display refinement and class at all times. This includes things like keeping a good posture, separating duty from pleasure and attending all academic, exercise and general training sessions. Circumstance should dictate what is appropriate at different times, which I am sure you are all aware of to varying extents."

Sylvia paused to moan breathlessly, her paw resting on Horace's chest with her fingertips combing through his fur gently. Murring at her touch, the bear gave a few harder thrusts, pounding deeply into Sylvia's dripping cunny. Tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, the lioness looked up again and continued, slightly out of breath.

"Now, 'fuck' is a word, for example, that can often be used for fun and is excellent to use when barked with passion, but should never be used to curse at another fur or interjected into sentences without reason," she said sternly, thinking this a very good example to use, considering her own problems with using the word generally before her citizenship had been approved.

"But, Sylvia," Nell broke in, tail flicking gently. "Why are you giving us this lecture while Horace is...making love to you? I understand that it is important, but it is so strange for you."

"Because I'm having a fucking good time!" Sylvia growled playfully, casting a saucy look at her bed-mate.

The girls tittered uncontrollably, though their eyes constantly went to the line of studs waiting patiently in the background, forgotten for the moment. Horace groans suddenly and grabs Sylvia's hips tightly, thrusting deep into her as he cums, panting heavily and nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Though don't let me have all the fun," Sylvia said with a naughty giggle, beckoning the males forward. "Please enjoy each other and fuck!"

With that, the girls playfully charge the males, pairing up and dividing up to take their furs of choice, until they were all sprawled and contorted throughout the chamber. Some of the girls took two or more males at a time while the other hung furs were treated to the attentions of several tongues upon their throbbing cocks, swapping and changing partners often so that all everyone may have plenty of pleasure. Sylvia blew a kiss to Horace and strode over to pounce upon a tall wolf, letting him 'pin' her to the wall and thrust into her cunny with a howl of delight, pounding the lioness as she arched her back and cried out in pleasure.

Relaxing back on the cushions, Horace smiled to no one in particular and stroked his rapidly hardening cock, aroused again after only a short break - though who could not be turned on with such an enthusiastic orgy going on around them? His smile could not have become any wider as Sylvia took the wolf, letting him sink in up to his balls, while the girls moan and cum with their respective partners.

"Sylvia, my dear," he murmured to himself, having eyes only for her. "I cannot wait to introduce my friends to my lioness, the passionate, wild, harem matron slut."