FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Introduction

Moonlit shadows fall over the largest city in the empire. The witching hour looms. This is her time. Mahiri stalks through the streets in pursuit of treasure, but the clever rogue has no plans for anything criminal tonight. Of course, that can always change. The career thief and adventurer is instead on a proper quest, one befitting of a noble knight. Yet she knows only someone of her particular skill set could possibly succeed with this one. Whether it's tricks, traps, or dangerous people and creatures alike on the road ahead, she shall brave them all and come out richer. If it's anything more than a fool's errand, at least.

She's confident it'll be worth her time. Mahiri is always careful with her information. Living the life of a clever, occasionally larcenous adventurer has taught her to be wary of who's giving her tips, and who might be on her trail. There are those she's wronged, plenty of which deserved it. But she trusts this cheetah. Snow has never led her astray before, and he spoke in hushed whispers in a back room of his tavern of something even bigger than her last score. This is something powerful, something once thought lost, and the path to find it is right here beneath the city. He also offered a warning. Finding this treasure may lead her to a place that might not be fully natural, he said. Whatever that means.

Of course she's armoured up and ready. To the onlooker, she might look like another traveller, albeit a stealthy one. Her armour of choice is hardened black leather, covered in a cloak and woven with various hidden enchantments and hugging tight to her ample body. The tight outfit supports her curves nicely but still gives her good range of movement for sneaking and dodging alike. It doesn't make any noise as she moves around. Neither do those carefully-secured weapons she keeps concealed on her person. Whether throwing blades, poisons, or various powders, she's equipped herself for nearly every possible situation her twin daggers and natural feline stealth can't handle. Tightening the braids of her starkly crimson locks, the leopardess takes a resolute breath and proceeds down the street of the quiet residential district. This is one she has to do alone.

There's one more part of her gear of particular note. She wears an odd, pointed trinket around her neck, a five-pointed star of unidentified black metal with uncomfortable sharp tips. It's painful to handle if she's not careful, but that's not the reason she hasn't bothered to take it off. She can't get rid of it. Whether to sell it, discard it, or simply leave it behind in her chambers, it always finds her again, and she finds herself wearing it once more without even remembering when she put it back on. When she took it in to the enchanter to inquire about a possible curse, she was politely but firmly asked to leave. The strangest part about it is that she doesn't fully recall where she got it. Whenever she tries to think back to it, she remembers only blurred shapes and the sound of laughter. She's just going to have to live with it until it chooses to reveal its purpose.

It has already given her some minor abilities. There are a few aspects of her own physical form she is able to alter simply by squeezing that piece of jewelry. Nothing drastic, but they have certainly been useful for sexual purposes. Her current figure is one made more attractive, more shapely thanks to the influence of that possibly cursed trinket. She hardly knows what sort of forces she's dealing with, or if dabbling in such things will ever come back to haunt her, but she's made it this far. And here she is, already in possession of something she probably shouldn't be, and searching for another object of untold power. Her own greed sometimes takes priority over reason, she must admit.

When she comes to the old, abandoned homestead, it doesn't look like much. Even the most desperate of treasure hunters would probably walk right by it. There's nothing to be found in that cobweb-strewn ruin of what appears to have once been a modest family house. She half wonders if Snow's tip was good or not as she pokes through the dust and shadows. Though the basement seems more promising. The upper floor may be exposed to the elements and largely destroyed, but descending into a lifted hatch reveals a still-intact lower level. At first glance, it's empty, but there must be something more to it. The hidden door is soon obvious to someone like her.

How she's actually supposed to get it open is another question entirely. There's no apparent mechanism, no runes, no pressure plates. She runs her fingers along the dusty stone and considers. There's obviously a slight discolouration there, perhaps imperceptible to someone without her eyesight, but she sees it. Yet even as she pokes, prods, and pushes at the area surrounding it, she can't find the trigger to make it open. Perhaps there is a special sort of key hidden elsewhere, but she doesn't give up just yet. There has to be something she's not seeing, something she hasn't thought of, yet for all her years of adventuring, she's never dealt with something like this. Given another minute or two, and she might figure it out, but it seems that is going to have to wait. Though she neither hears nor sees any sign of someone else down there with her, somehow, she just knows she's not alone.

[/u]Mahiri vs Emery[/u]

For EmeryGray

It's less that she somehow senses an ambush so much as she simply knows right this very moment would be the perfect time for one. There she is, considering that hidden entrance, solely focused on finding the mechanism that might open the unseen door. If she was looking to take herself down, that would be the moment she chose. So it's not exactly supernatural instinct that compels her to whirl around just in time to see the kitsune come out of hiding in the shadows. It just makes sense to her. She really should have known before this moment. Of course they were going to see each other again after their last encounter. Surely he wants a little payback.

The black and gold fennec-sune before her keeps his tails tied back so as not to interfere with their impending clash. The leopardess puts on a devious smile as she sees him. Her fingers lightly twitch, ready to stray to her blades at a moment's notice, but she refrains from brandishing a weapon just yet. Instead, she simply scans over his cloaked body, up and down his slender yet sturdy form, or what she can see of it at least. Finally, she offers him a sultry wink.

"Emery."

"Mahiri."

Their familiarity is full of contempt. They stand facing one another for a time, arms by their sides, both ready to strike at any moment. His expression mirrors hers. Amusement, perhaps a bit of smugness. He acts like he's already beaten her. Knowing him, and his tricky kitsune magic, perhaps he already has. She only just barely managed to elude him last time. While he isn't even visibly armed, she knows he doesn't' have to be. He stands stock still and visibly unintimidated by the dangerous adventurer before him. Why should he be? A single spell is probably enough to tame her more murderous instincts, if not take her out of the fight entirely. Kitsunes have always been so very good at deception, and control.

She doubts he's readied a fireball or anything so destructive, but something more deceitful could fire off at any moment. It might come from his fingertips, or from a mere glance. She probably shouldn't meet his eyes, though as usual she can't help but admire just how handsome he is. Those tall ears, that pointed muzzle, those striking fur colours - and of course that multitude of tails. If not for their past encounters, who knows what might have become of the two of them? For the moment, she simply shrugs, acting unimpressed by his display of confidence.

"Revenge, or the bounty?" she asks.

"A little of both perhaps." His tone remains steady. "Revenge is rarely so profitable. Though I needn't be paid to deal with you."

"Aw, and put an end to our little games? I'm hurt."

"It won't hurt. I assure you." He winks back. "Go ahead. Make the first move. I'll be ready."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She sticks her tongue out at him. "Make me."

"I will, if you take too long."

She can't tease forever, as much as it amuses her. Either she does something or she's going to be on the receiving end of one of his many spells. In truth she doesn't even know the full extent of what a kitsune can and can't do, but he's more than a fox who happens to be a mage. She knows that much. It could be that she's in a great deal of danger. Or that she simply stands to lose to him. She's not sure what's worse. That cocky look on his muzzle makes her angrily blush at the mere idea of him getting one up on her, in any way. There are a few courses of action she might take.

Perhaps she ought to simply draw her blades. A few illusions can hardly defeat cold steel. Or it could be that's exactly what he wants her to do. Or that he wants her to think it's what he wants her to do. Now she's really thinking like the tricky sune. There is of course her amulet, and the strange power within it. It has its cosmetic uses, but a firm squeeze will truly unleash what lurks within. Calling upon its power when dealing with a magic user might be a terrible idea, or it might be the only thing that gets her through unscathed. She could also try to confront him less lethally, and toss a stunning flask then make her escape through the door while he's dazed. Those all sound like good options in their own way, but she has to consider a fourth. Maybe she just shouldn't do anything. Why would he tell her to make the first move if he's not ready for anything she might do? With her tail lightly twitching and her eyes focused intently on her rival, she considers her options carefully.

What should she do?

[Draw her blades]

[Touch her amulet]

[Toss a flask]

[Refuse. Wait for him to move instead.]

Chapter 1, Branch 1

[Continues from "Refuse. Wait for him to move instead."]

"No."

That's it. She leaves it at that, and delights in watching his stance go tense in response.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please, Emery." She puts a hand on her hip and strikes a pose, with another wink in his direction. "We both know why you're here, and it's not for revenge or some petty bounty. You're better than that."

"I am?" he jokes, but it's clear by his expression that she's managed to throw him off.

The brief break in his concentration is enough to bring a little flicker from his fingers. Something sparks as if damaged and leaves him staggering back and blinking. Then there comes a brief look of fear, followed by a much more relaxed one as his own backfired spell sets in. He could have countered most any actual attack, but her seductive skills are potent enough to make him miss a mental beat. When dealing with illusions and tricks like his, he has to be very careful, lest he end up being the one hit by his charming magic. The look on his face is one of sheer lust rather than revenge-seeking he might have been considering. Gone is their enduring vendetta. How much of it is his own inner desire for the one he calls his enemy and how much is the backfired spell isn't clear, nor does it matter to Mahiri. Either way, it's time to really show him what she can do.

In the end it doesn't even take touching her amulet to invoke the changes she wishes for. All she has to do is think it. She feels that extra weight pressing against her leather and takes on a slight smirk. A slow stroke along her thighs comes with her turning on the rumbles. He surely doesn't just hear them, but feels them as she projects them across the room. A slow swish of her tail just tops it all off. Oh yes. She has him looking. There's no hiding his gaze straying to her bulge. She can't help herself. A thrust at the air might be a little much, but she's growing far too excited to think about being subtle. One more good look at his expression to confirm this isn't another one of his tricks and she starts walking towards him.

"... what are you doing?"

"You know what I'm doing."

That smirk never leaves her. Her eyes flash with the kind of mischief that ought to make the kitsune proud, if not for how flustered he is. She bites her lower lip as the finishing blow. Neither of them can deny the truth of the matter. They're two gorgeous troublemakers, and fighting isn't going to solve anything. She reaches out, and doesn't get any sort of resistance when she lays her hand on his shoulder. A firm squeeze has him tentatively glancing to the side. She feels empowered, maybe even stronger than usual. Or perhaps that's just the lust leaving her overestimating herself. It doesn't change the fact that he's letting her do whatever she wants, something she takes full advantage of.

A sudden lunge and she nips him on the side of the neck ever so softly. It looks like a harsh bite at first, but when her teeth actually touch his skin she halts herself with the utmost of precision. From there, she nibbles, then licks, working her scratchy tongue along his fur until he's left wriggling in her grasp. A thief like her is good with her hands too, of course. She uses them well to stroke up and down his back, to grasp and grope him, and eventually to toy with his rump as if to make it absolutely clear what she wants from him. She withdraws from his neck and just gives him a sloppy slurp across his muzzle, one wet enough to streak his fur with excess saliva. Then it's onto those great big ears of his, perfect for nibbling, and whispering into too.

"You knew you'd just lose again, didn't you? Building yourself up, acting like you have a spell ready, no matter what I do. Just so it can feel like you tried when I utterly dominate you yet again."

That last sentence comes accompanied by an emphatic rumble, a burst of noise amid her constant, seductive vibrations. She can outright feel the heat of his blushing cheeks near her own.

"That's ... that's not true at all," he murmurs, with all his confidence drained away. "I really was going to capture you."

"And yet you're still going to suck my cock, aren't you?"

He answers with a yip as if she just bit him. She can feel him getting squirmy while she gropes him. All it takes is a few nudges, some gentle pressure on his shoulders to encourage him to kneel before that shiny bulge of hers. She doesn't have to force him. What might have been a fight is swiftly ended by the sheer force of their mutual desires. Slowly easing her hips forward, she presses the outline of her arousal against his face, grinds on him a few times, and oh how she purrs when she gets a curious sniff in response. It's probably little more than a noseful of leather while she's still fully dressed like that, but the gesture is appreciated nonetheless. She humps his face a few times before she bothers to unbuckle.

The flop of her half-solid cock is an impressive one. She lets it twitch right in front of his face in all its glossy black glory, filling out from the feeling of his puffed breath blowing over it alone. He gives her a few seconds before he starts licking it. The magic ensures she's the most attractive thing he can possibly imagine in those moments. It creates a certain desperation in him that keeps him moving, keeps him servicing her without a hint of regard for his own dignity. She has to suppress the urge to snicker at him. The glazed-over look in his eyes while he runs his tongue along her shiny inches is so very satisfying when she knows full well she was in danger mere moments ago.

He is powerful, despite her teasing. She knows that. That's what makes it so very satisfying to have him slicking up her shaft with those slutty slurps. He cleans the pre from her tip and pushes his nose in close to take another deep breath. His trembling, softly moaning response brings outright pleasure to the leopardess. She arches her back and jabs her shaft forth, just in time for him to smooch it and slowly take it between his lips. One firm suck around that well-wrapped tip and he's an addict. Perhaps it's those enchantments woven into her armour, those trinkets around her neck, or the potions in her veins that makes her taste so damn good. Maybe she's just like that. Either way, she soon has an eager kitsune bobbing up and down her shaft, his muffled moans mingling well with her constant rumbles.

It's ever so difficult to keep from getting greedy in such a triumphant position. That arch-rival, sworn to revenge after she got the advantage last time, and now he's so happy to pleasure her, to suck on her like she's some sort of goddess. Perhaps she is if she can tame a kitsune so easily. That surge of pride makes her grab him by the ears and push in deeper, until he swallows an inch of her thick meat. A thrusting, drooling facefuck is the result of her being unable to hold back any longer. She can already feel herself swelling up, going tense with the growing pleasure that comes with gliding along his tongue and maw alike, over and over. He never stops to gasp, never ceases his worshipful sucking while he kneads that plump dick between his lips. And she can see how hard he is the whole time, bulging beneath his robe. There's no denying he's meant to serve her when he feels that good.

"Hmmmf. A very good boy you are," she can't help but taunt. "Let's see how that pretty muzzle of yours looks all soaked in leopard cum."

First she buries herself as deep as she can go without choking him out. Which is impressively deep. She bulges his throat with her cock as she rowls and starts twitching all over. A few lashes of her tail are fast enough to produce a whip-like crack in the air as she noisily climaxes between his lips with him sucking hard the whole while. That pumping, flexing cock swells up extra plump while her load bulges through it. She lightly claws his skull as she possessively clutches him and blasts her spunk straight down into his belly. The force of it soon has it squirting out his mouth and pouring down her balls until she yanks back to escape from his suckling grip. She's just in time for another fat rope of cream to spray him directly in the face, splatting off in all directions with that forceful impact. A thorough, messy marking of his features comes with every gush to follow while she clenches her teeth and puts on her fiercest expression all throughout that extended peak.

Her voice goes down to its deepest rrrrrngh by the time she's done. She leaves him utterly plastered, dripping, panting for air. When he's done enough gasping, he starts mopping up some of that jizz from around his lips, but he can't get it all. The rest is going to be his mask, to dribble down his chin and soak into his clothing. It's easy to obey when she curls a single finger and gives him a little wink. Especially when she's still working a hand up and down the slick inches of her heavy cock, squeezing out the very last of her orgasm onto his face.

"Alright. Lose the robe. I've got to make sure you don't come after me, don't I? So I certainly can't leave you unfulfilled."

He doesn't answer with anything but obedience. Stripping down before her lets her take in the full elegance of his lean, yet strong form, and the golden highlights of his fur. None of that matters when she pounces down on top of him to pin him between her weight. She's still very much armoured, but he's completely naked, his cock standing up near her own. A jousting match of sorts turns to a firm frotting session of one extra thick feline dick rubbing against his own shaft. Hers is bigger. He can only whimper a little and faintly squirm, but it can hardly be called struggling. Nonetheless, it activates that snarly side of her, that extra ferocious instinct to pin and claim that sometimes comes when she gets in one of her ruts. She needs him and she's going to take him. He gives no complaints but for the occasional flustered yip.

A nibble to his throat is slightly threatening, but she's anything but violent with him. Simply dominant, taking full advantage of his magically charmed state. If it's still in effect. She just knows she soon finds herself all wrapped up in his thighs while she pushes him into a firm mating press. It doesn't take her long to find her mark. Prodding, grinding, rubbing at the base of his many splayed-out tails makes him jolt and wriggle beneath her as if ticklish. It's not enough throw off her aim, and soon he's left emitting a shaky moan while she smoothly penetrates him with her sex-slick cock. The shape of her shaft all outlined in his belly only gets bigger as she slides it all the way inside, bottoming out with a solid thump of her balls to his butt.

With his paws straight up in the air, he can't do much more but wiggle and shout once she starts fucking him. She feels that compelling force of feline instinct drive her to simply pound without bothering with any sort of buildup. Three swift thrusts to get use to the tight, clenching confines of his rump and she starts rolling her whole body into those lunging, grinding strokes that rattle him to the core. She gets to watch his face twist into expressions of pleasure and shock alike. His mouth hangs open even when he's not crying out for her, as if he can hardly believe what's happening to him, or how good it feels. He might be a powerful kitsune, but with her cock inside him he's just a noisy fennec getting what he needs.

Eventually he closes his eyes, tongue flopped out of his jaws while she relentlessly breeds him. Or that's what it feels like at least. His body responds to her harsh dominance with plenty of clenching and contracting around her inches, pulling up tight around her dick while she fucks the magic right out of him. He can hardly remember a single spell anymore. It's all just blank delight while she uses him for a toy, growls in his face, nibbles on his long ears. His own shaft grinds against her armoured belly, but she doesn't give him any sort of extra rub or stroke. He's already painted her leather with his precum, and the twitching squeezes of pleasure rolling through his entire lower body mean he's getting closer and closer to making a mess of himself.

"Mighty kitsune just loves a cock in his ass," she can't help but tease. "Go ahead. Blow your load for me. Show me how much you love getting held down and fucked by your sworn enemy, hm?"

In case her encouragement isn't enough, she turns it into more of a demand by adding a hissy snarl right in his face as punctuation. He scrunches up his muzzle and squints his eyes tight while he falls into a series of rapid contractions around her dick. They all blend together by the time he goes over the edge. A whine of a scream is his confession how well she's managed to break him in such a short time. It all comes to a peak that leaves him curling his toes while he sprays his spunk all over his belly, his chest, even his face. Plenty more of it splashes on her, but she doesn't let that distract her. Her thumping pace never falters, spanking her nuts against his butt until those milking clenches compel her to join him in ecstasy. Her climax comes accompanied by a full-strength roar.

It's a deafening bellow that stuns Emery enough to make him not even notice he's being filled with jizz at first. The warmth clues him in eventually. She floods him and fills him until he's utterly packed, sloshing with the excess that pours from her magically-enhanced shaft. There's something unnatural about her sheer output, but he can't complain when it means getting overloaded with the blissful feeling of holding her seed. A quiver, a whimper, and then just a sigh escape him as she settles down into some contented rumbles. A few more flexes, a few more spurts of hot cream, and she slumps at last. A lick of his face helps him with the mess, just a little. She holds herself inside him until she's absolutely certain she's done cumming, and only then does she slide out and leave him uncorked and leaking the excess of her generous load. Then it's time to give him another wink.

"So how long does that spell normally last, anyway?"

He can only stammer his meek answer. "You won't ... you won't get me next time. I'll get you back ..."

"You're avoiding the question. How much of that was you charming yourself and how much of it was just thirsting for my dick?"

"Hmph," is his only reply. He huffs at her.

"Mmhmm. Thought so. Any tips for me? I'm going on without you, but we'll have to do this again sometime."

He hesitates, giving her a glare, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment and frustration at himself for falling to her charms again. Finally, he quietly relents.

"Be careful. I'll just say that. I don't know if the stories are true, and if you'll even find anything at the end, but if they are ... well, it might be dangerous. More than even you are used to."

"Aw, see. You do care. I'm going to be just fine, suney. And you, well you just relax and think about how you're going to explain this one. Oh, here's your robe back."

Before she returns that garment, she mops up some of the fluids clinging to her armour, and then her cock before she tucks that slick, mostly-softened spire away. Then she tosses his clothing at his face, all bunched up and soaked in leopard cum. That's how she leaves him, a mess of panting, pleasured, defeated rival. He'll just have to consider how he'll get back at her next time, and watch her ass sway off towards the door with admitted admiration. If she wasn't so damn sexy their rivalry might have been much more nasty from the start, but it seems even he has a certain green-eyed weakness.

[Continues to "Interlude"]

Chapter 1, Branch 2

[Continues from "Touch her amulet."]

A conventional weapon is hardly going to do the trick. Mahiri knows that much. She's never been one for magic. Trusting her own abilities has always worked out for her so far, but just this one time, she's going to have to call on something for a little help. In whatever form that might take. That necklace of her remains an unpredictable element of her arsenal, but it is surely bound to her for a reason. Maybe this is the moment it has been waiting for.

Usually, a soft stroke is enough to convey her intent when she's feeling like shaking up her configuration. This encounter calls for something else. She runs her fingers along the pointed tips and eventually gives it enough of a squeeze that it hurts. That's all that happens, that she notices at least. No flash of light, no surge of power. Just a prick of her fingers, deep enough to draw the tiniest drops of blood. But Emery notices.

"What? No no, wait, that's not ..." He leans in to squint at her, trying to get a better look at that conspicuous piece of jewelry. "No no no, stop, you don't know what you're-"

He's stunned mid-sentence by something Mahiri doesn't even see. There's no ray of energy shooting from her chest or anything of the sort. Whatever forces she's dealing with are completely imperceptible to her. Emery clutches at his chest as if stricken by some internal harm, and then casts her a worried expression. Just like that, and all his dignity, all his cocky swagger does away to leave him visibly worried, even panicked by her course of action. He doesn't even try to counterattack with a spell of his own. Eventually he resorts to flailing at the air, either catching fireflies or inelegantly battling with an unseen assailant.

"Call her off! Please!" he calls.

Mahiri gives him a narrow look. This is probably another one of his tricks. What kind of fool would she be if she trusted a kitsune's good will? She doesn't let go of that dark amulet. Instead, she squeezes it tighter, and finally she feels something more than the pain of its sharp edges. Something enters her. It's as palpable a feeling as much as it is indescribable. It flows through her veins as if her blood is being rapidly replaced with something better. She puffs out her chest and shows her teeth as the power fills her with a sense of fierce dominance. That kitsune doesn't stand a chance against whatever it is she's unleashed. She doesn't care about the consequences of calling on an unknown power when it feels so good.

When she opens her eyes again, coming down from the burst of ecstasy that comes with embracing that dark energy, she doesn't see him. At first she thinks he's disappeared. The movement beneath the fallen robe where he once stood reveals his position. She finds herself driven by instinct, by the urge to charge and pounce upon that hidden creature. At least she manages to hold herself back so as not to crush him. Emery is hiding there, struggling beneath the fabric, though there's considerably less of him than before. The kitsune has shrunken down to a size that easily fits in the palm of Mahiri's hand. That much is evident when she snatches him up without a second thought, gripping him tight and pulling him in the air so she can puff hot breath on his face.

"Mahiri, I didn't ... I wasn't going to actually ..." he begins, but he can hardly finish his sentences.

"Wasn't going to what?" she snaps, with a deep, resonant snarl rolling through her every word. Her voice sounds like two at once in vicious harmony."Hurt me? Turn me in for your own gain? Interfere with my business?"

She's not sure where that sudden rush of aggression comes from, but letting it out feels good somehow. Especially when she sees her arch-rival all wide-eyed and terrified. She has him right where she wants him. No more tricks, no more close encounters.

"Don't listen to her, don't let her inside! It won't end well for you!" comes his tiny cry.

"That sounds a lot like the bargaining of someone who knows he's been beaten." She gives him a wicked wink. "I think it's much better if we end this little rivalry of ours right here. So much more convenient for us both, wouldn't you agree?"

A snicker shudders through her at her own cruelty. She doesn't normally revel in this sort of thing. Or at least she thinks she doesn't. Yet every moment she spends teasing him is one that brings her a strange sense of pleasure. It's enough to make her a little warm beneath the leather. She needs more. More fear, more begging. And she knows just how to get it. The thought strikes her in the form of a physical sensation. She grows all at once aware of the clenching need inside her stomach, and deep, painful longing that travels all the way up to the back of her throat.. Funny, she thought she was well-prepared for the journey before she left, but at that moment she feels as if she hasn't eaten in days. A slow lick across her dark chops helps her tidy up some of the saliva that starts flowing, but she doesn't get it all. She's drooling at the thought of having the helpless kitsune inside her.

All Emery can manage is a whimper while she lifts him towards her slavering jaws. Pushing out her tongue, she wiggles it in his face before taking her first slurp. He's up far too high to leap away. Even when she releases her grip around him, he doesn't dare leap away. He's just going to have to endure the scratchy touch of her long, luxurious locks across the entirety of his shrunken, naked body. Slurping him from head to toe hardly even begins to describe it. She mashes him down against her open palm and makes a puddle of drool trickle over the edges by the time she's done tasting every single last inch and crevice of his tiny form. He sputters and gasps, panting for air after a full minute of relentless feline licking. A patch or two of his fur is missing by the time she's done slathering him up and stealing away every possible swallow of his flavour she can possibly get. Of course she needs more.

"Time to end our little cat and mouse game. You're the mouse, of course."

It's not even that funny, but she cackles anyway. It's a depraved, shaky laugh that hardly sounds like her own. She likes it. It goes well with that new feeling, that tingly bliss in her every nerve that serves as a reward for every moment she spends giving in to her urges. She opens her jaws. A stretching snap of thick saliva leaves the soaked sune splattered slightly more than he is already. He doesn't even seem to fight her. Holding his hands up meekly in front of him is the best he can do while she slowly brings him towards her open maw. Her breath is blazing hot, if still sweet as she lays him on her outstretched tongue. He's left wheezing for air, stifled by the heat as if being mildly cooked. Once he's nicely laid out on her tongue, she seals those sultry black lips around his waist and leaves just his legs kicking about on the outside, flinging the excess saliva clinging to his drenched fur.

"Hmmmf!" he cries, muffled with his muzzle shoved down firmly to the middle of her tongue.

She rumbles to herself as she starts slurping in her dinner. His fur glosses along the surface of her lips smoothly, and his tails get all matted down and squished in with the rest of him by the time she reaches his paws. His head teeters on the edge of her throat, ever so close to getting caught up in the beckoning peristalsis, but she catches him there. Instead of gulping him right down, she instead pushes him into the inside of one cheek, snugly caught between her teeth. She doesn't bite. Instead, she pushes him around like a particularly succulent piece of candy. Good prey like him deserves to be properly savoured. Some good, deep sucks on his struggling form leave him smothered and soaked even deeper. The grinding of her tongue against his body is enough to numb him, while the occasional safe nibble between suckles is enough to snap him right back to reality. She's just teasing him. He's going down whole.

For all the teasing, all the anticipation, she makes the moment as sudden as she can. A tip of her head, muzzle pointing straight up at the ceiling, and she closes her eyes to settle into a single, powerful GULP. That's plenty strong enough to drag him into the slick embrace of her throat. He makes for a brief swell beneath her creamy white neck fur before the power of his peristalsis forces him deeper. His paws vanish over the back of her tongue and into the darkness as she kneads him all the way down to her waiting gut. He doesn't even show beneath the leather. He's dropped down into a great big sauna of a wet, slimy chamber and left to struggle on the slippery surfaces around him. As much as he scrambles, he just can't seem to find purchase and rise to his feet.

A few brief pomfs of magic create a faint pink light that shines through her belly and outfit alike. Then she gives him a few firm pats and knocks him on his ass with the rippling of that chamber. His prison gurgles and wobbles around him, bubbling up until she lets forth a deep, confident belch. With her hands on her hips, she strikes a proud pose and briefly pants. Not from the exertion so much as just the pleasure. Then it's all rumbles as she kneads at the surface of her gut to feel for squirms. He's well-hidden within her, but his desperate flailing is still evident through the layers between him and the outside world. Her stomach works him in a merciless, kneading grip, suppressing his struggles, sapping his energy, wearing him down to an exhausted, digestible shape. It's much more active than normal for her.

What might be a process that takes hours, or days to fully process her meal is one she can enjoy over the course of mere minutes. A few moans mix in with her purring as she digests the kitsune. Magic or not, he's still made of meat. He simmers and softens with every acidic churn while the cat rubs up and down her sides and with delight. Eventually she can't hold back any longer. A quick unbuckling of her belt and she gets her pants down to her thighs. With her weight leaning up against the nearby wall, she slumps down a little and dips two fingers inside herself to properly enjoy the sensations of unmaking her enemy one gurgle at a time. Emery's last hope of mercy is washed away by a wave of tingly fluids, while the leopardess moans and plunges her digits in and out of her pussy. Thanks to the mysterious power working through her, his demise is her ecstasy.

Eventually enough of the kitsune softens that one good churn is enough to end his wriggling. The rest is simply a process of absorbing him, and rapidly at that. Her empowered digestive system is viciously efficient, adding every last bit of him to her curves, one place or another. Perhaps some of him pads out her spotty thighs, stretching them against that tight armour. Plenty more goes to her heavy bosom, or her fine rump. The only thing left is the flicker of ghostly light that escapes when she gives another little belch. He wisps away, little more than a fallen soul, a tangible bit of energy that is the remainder of his existence. Were he ended by an ordinary creature, he'd fly off to be revived and try again. Mahiri's not going to allow for that. She reaches out and grabs him by the soul as if it were as solid as any other part of him. He can do little more than shriek.

"Give me that. I told you. This is over," she wetly snarls.

As much as she drools, she doesn't swallow him again. Instead, she introduces him to the cleft of her sleek pussy, dipping that soul-muzzle between those soft lips. A sudden flex of pleasure clenches him inwards. Her intent is clear. She lets his very essence pleasure her while she dominates and consumes all that's left of him, dragging him into her pussy inch by inch. He's far too intangible to struggle, and yet he feels every single undulating squeeze of her insides as he's doused in the fragrance of her lust. A long, squeezy process of working him inside without so much as a shove to hurry along the process eventually has him glimmering there inside her womb, slurped up and consumed as surely as if she'd swallowed him. The twinkling outline of his many tails faintly shows beneath her white fur once she tucks them away with the rest of him.

From there her rumbles grow to thunderous growls. She rolls her hips and humps at the air, then seals his only escape by shoving four fingers inside herself at once. Unhinged, rapid pumping serves to work her towards a clenching peak while she absorbs that extra ethereal energy in her womb. It empowers her until she's absolutely roaring with pleasure, thrashing with the forbidden experience of claiming something her mortal body was never meant to claim. She melts him into little more than ghostly goop and absorbs that into the walls of her womb, to whatever end that might have. The only thing that remains of him after a heated stay inside her cunt is the trembling ecstasy that makes her quiver all over. She thrashes her head about with that convulsing orgasm by the time he's gone, utterly erased by her unexpectedly dark urges.

Her shriek is much like the one he gave when she first clutched his soul. She doesn't roar so much as she screams all throughout that gushing orgasm while she squirts out what remains of the former kitsune. Perhaps those pussy juices pouring from her contain a faintly greenish-blue hue amid the translucent mess. She doesn't notice. She's far too focused on splattering the floor and her inner thighs with that fragrant mess of an orgasm. Oh, she's truly drenched by the time she's done. Panting, mewling, steaming hot, she takes a moment to simply stare at the ceiling before she bothers to move.

Thankfully, Emery left her a nice robe to help her clean up with. It becomes her towel once she's recovered enough to get back to her feet. Then she pulls those pants back up and buckles her belt as tightly as it will go. Slightly looser than before. The extra curves she's claimed from him are almost imperceptible, but she can certainly feel the added jiggle when she moves. Something of a daze comes over her by the time she's done. She glances around the room and tries to remember the exact details of everything that just transpired, but in truth it's a little blank.

Blurred images of ecstasy and triumph blaze through her memory. The specifics probably aren't important. She is safe and feeling delightful, ready to carry on with her adventure as if nothing particularly unusual happened. As for that necklace of hers, it remains dormant, just a trinket among the many she wears. Perhaps it never was magic at all. Perhaps she simply had such wickedness inside her from the start. That's better than considering the possible consequences of calling upon someone or something she can't even begin to understand.

[Continues to "Interlude."]

Chapter 1, Branch 3

[Continues from "Throw a flask."]

A flask. It's worked before. Why shouldn't it work again? She moves quicker than he can blink to grab one of those many concealed vials, and tosses it directly at him. The volatile substance inside makes for a considerable flash of light and sound when it goes off, though it's far from lethal. That's something she's about to be very thankful for when it comes back in her face. He didn't even gesture. Maybe the repulsion field was already up long before she ever made a move. Either way, he's ready for it this time, and he makes her look terribly foolish in the process. That vial shatters against her shoulder and unleashes the full force of that stunning powder right in her face, leaving her reeling. That's when he pounces.

It's not with any sort of spell or trick that he takes her to the floor. A simple tackle is enough to pin the reeling feline. He holds her down with his grinning muzzle pointed directly at her disoriented snarl. She blinks rapidly, but she can see little more than the afterimage of that explosion for several seconds more. That's enough time for him to get his enchantments on her. Invisibly bound in figurative chains, she's left all stretched out in a vulnerable X beneath the shameless kitsune. The magic that holds her in place is powerful enough to keep her from squirming, or even complaining. She's not so much paralyzed as she's been made his puppet, following his every whim as if it's her own. He demonstrates that with a simple beckon that has her raise her hand and stroke it along his side. As for the sudden heat between her thighs - well, that might not be entirely magically compelled.

"Oh, Mahiri. You did that last time! Don't tell me you're getting predictable. Respond."

For just a moment, he releases the hold on her voice and lets her project her furious snarl of an answer.

"I will kill you, kitsune."

"No you won't. You and I both know that. We have been doing this dance for, how long has it been? By now I know you."

He runs two fingers firmly up the inside of one leatherclad thigh, and across the surface of her pussy. Another tingle, another warm clench comes with her growing wetter in direct response to his greed. That just makes her angrier. She'd snarl again if he hadn't already silenced her with his magic. Still on top of her, he takes his liberties with her lightly armoured form. Being magically held doesn't prevent her from feeling every single sensation as normal. She just has to lie there, all stretched out while he plays with her tits, or strokes down her curves and hips until he can squeeze her ass. All through it, he rubs his bulging sheath against her thigh, beneath that robe of his. Clothed teasing only satisfies him for so long of course. It's not long that he gets back off of her and gestures for her to follow him to her feet. She can do nothing but obey.

"Let's get you all stripped down. But do make it sexy, won't you?"

He chuckles at her while she follows his command without hesitation, despite her inner reluctance. That's something she knows very well how to do. His will becomes her own for as long as he thinks it, compelling her to make a show of stripping from her armour. A swishing sway of her hips, a cupping of her breasts while she unfastens the many straps that keep everything in place and soon her soft shape spills out from the binding leather, spot by spot, in full womanly display. She's not quite as imposing out of her outfit. Her ample, fluffy body looks too pillowy to be properly deadly. Nonetheless, she carries on, peeling herself from that tight leather one sleeve at a time. Her tits bounce free in time and she gives them a deep, proud squeeze before moving on. Turning that thick rump around, she lifts and swings her tail while she lowers those bottoms to the ground, only swirling back to face him once the full view of her gleaming pussy is ready for his consideration. He grins at what he sees.

"Already so wet. Are you in heat or am I simply putting you into one with my presence?" he teases.

Maybe that's not too far from the truth. She does feel that certain ache, that needy warmth that makes her a little tense, a little quivery. It's a good thing she can't speak right now. Otherwise she might give him the pleasure of hearing her voice shake. Instead, she just strides her naked self over to him and kneels on his silent command, gazing up at him. That gives her a good look of him unveiling his own body, as elegant as he carries himself. His sheath is already filling out and drawing back to unveil his canine cock. If she could, she'd tease him about how quickly he gets hard for her. Needy kitsune. How long has he wanted this for? She patiently kneels there, unable to do anything else, until the overwhelming urge to lunge and shove her face in his crotch overtakes her being.

His self-indulgence stops at nothing. He's not just going to humiliate her, he's going to take every single ounce of pleasure from it he possibly can. That starts with making her sniff the warm fur of his crotch, and then work down to his balls. At least no one can see her now. To the outside viewer, she looks absolutely eager, even crazed for him. Soon after, she starts licking his nuts. There is no spoken command, no gesture that urges her to keep going. He simply wants, and she obeys, wanting it just as much as he does whenever that urge comes. But that's just the magic talking, of course. No way would she ever so shamelessly slurp his balls like that, stroking up and down in long, drooling strokes of her tongue, sparing nothing for her own dignity.

"Ahhh, heheh. That's a good kitty," he teases, and strokes through her hair a few times. "By your scent, you're enjoying this every bit as much as me. I probably don't even need the magic. But it makes this more fun."

She doesn't answer. For one, she can't, but she's far too busy kissing her way up his knotted cock. She's absolutely slobbering for him by the time she makes it to his tip. He won't let her even lick her lips. Instead, she just dives down on his dick until she's swallowing the tip with that sudden, engulfing suck. A faint glurk of her adjusting to the shape of it in her mouth and she's steady again. Bobbing up and down with her lips pursed tight around his firm shaft, she kisses against his knot over and over, indulgently sucking the cock of her rival as if it's her favourite thing in the world. He certainly doesn't hold back showing he's enjoying it, either. Surely he's exaggerating the extent of his moans while he lightly thrusts between her lips and tugs on her unfurled locks.

"Ohhh, my, Mahiri. Those lips are simply luscious. And I must say, not all of this is magic. Enjoying the taste of my cock, aren't you?"

Her only response is to tip her head to the side so she can get a better angle to suck him off all the firmer. She clutches his hips just to be closer to him while she pleasures him. At least her eager servicing has a reward. It starts as a thick stream of precum on her tongue, and only grows more copious from there. She swallows every drop. Chugging from the tap proves fruitful once he gives a few firm thrusts and bottoms out with a slight growl and a smack of his plump knot right against her lips. There it stays while his cock twitches in her throat and fires off a hot load of kitsune cum for her to guzzle. She swallows it without stopping to take a breath, as if every single drop is precious. It all ends up warming her belly by the time she gasps her way off his cock and leaves him grinning above her with indulgent mischief.

"Don't worry. I've got plenty for you. I know what I want next ..."

She slowly sprawls herself back again, her arms behind her head, just waiting for his next urge. Licking her lips gets a little more of his taste on her palate. She has to admit she enjoys it, even without the compelling magic. There's plenty more to get by the time he settles down atop her, seated on her belly, and takes hold of her breasts in both hands. Squishing them together makes them perfectly fuckable, just the right angle for him to push his cock into her fluffy cleavage and poke it at her lips. She licks at the tip while he starts to hump and grind at her, giving those same deep moans that sound as if he's surely faking it. Surely titfucking her can't feel that good, but maybe the dominance of using a rival for his pleasure is what really pushes him over the edge.

Her bosom jiggles while he smacks the underside with his knot. She remains exactly as she is, body bouncing back and forth while he thrusts. It doesn't take long to get his dick wet again. He lays those spurting jets of precum over her features, and she doesn't even flinch, nor does she lick them off. She simply wears them, allowing him to mark her down in his scent while he has his greedy way with her. Eventually he just can't help but pinch her perked teats, toying with her nipples until a rowl builds up inside her. Unable to let it out, she just has to keep all that noise to herself while he humps and grinds on her. He's not just teasing, he's working to another pumping orgasm, judging by the mess he streaks across her muzzle and into her open mouth. His pace soon turns unhinged once his ecstasy hits again.

"Just like that ... hold that position ... "he shakily mocks her, knowing well she can't do anything else.

She's all splayed out just right for him to cum all over her. First a flooding splat on her face that drenches her features in his fresh spunk, and then he darts back to make absolutely certain he manages to thoroughly paint her tits in kitsune jizz. From one to the other, he lays out at least a dozen ropes of possessive spunk, marking her down without a single word of protest in return. Milking out the last of his load with a few strokes and squeezes to his cock, he slowly slides back to consider his handiwork. Such a canvas he's made of her, and she can do nothing but let it all soak into her skin or slowly trickle down the hefty curve of her bust while he considers what's next. A few sniffs of the air makes up his mind.

"I knew it! You are in heat. And you weren't when I got here. Something's got you flustered, leopard. And I know how to fix that."

She finds herself lifting and spreading her legs for him to give him a good look at her absolutely slathered pussy. This time, it feels a little different. That action feels less external than the others. Maybe it just made sense to do that right then. Either way, she's fully exposed to him, glistening, pumping, clenching up with the need to breed. She knows what that means. One good shot of sune spunk inside her and she's going to get knocked up. Which would certainly be inconvenient for her adventuring career. He dips his muzzle between her thighs and takes a sniff of what's normally a seasonable scent - but it wouldn't be the first time her body's done strange things out of the usual time of year from sheer arousal alone. That urgent feeling only blazes hotter when he takes a few messy canine slurps across the folds of her sex.

"Tight, fertile leopard pussy ..." he growls to himself, only to gaze up at her from between her thighs. "I'm going to get you pregnant, Mahiri."

Those words echo through her mind as he climbs on top of her once more. A smooch on her lips becomes a nip of her neck and shoulder as he slides his shaft up and down along her folds. A mere few strokes is enough to leave his cock glistening with her lusty fluids. A roll of his hips gets his tip nicely nestled between those tender lips. Once he's inside, there's truly no going back. Not when she's in such a state. She's probably ready to get bred from precum alone when she's squirming with need. He lets her squirm by then. Her hands roam, too. She strokes down his spine and clings to him while he slowly, smoothly penetrates her with that breeding tool, savouring every inch while she hugs up tight around him. The constantly gripping pump around his dick all but forbids him from pulling out. He's just going to have to fuck her until he gives her what she wants.

Perhaps he's a touch over-enthusiastic once he finally gets to indulge in the pleasures of a velvety leopard pussy. He's been waiting for this moment ever since their first encounter. So has she. They both knew they'd end up like this one day. But they're still rivals. They ought to fuck like enemies. It's hard to tell if the magic is still in effect when the cat squirms so much beneath the humping kitsune. He pushes deep inside her, wrenches back, and soon launches into some savage thumps that could hardly be called lovemaking. He's rutting her and she's just mrowling her way right through it. Oh, look at that. Her voice has come back to her. She doesn't even consider that fact, nor does she notice how free she is to reach up and wrap her thighs tightly around his waist and keep him pumping inside her. That just comes naturally when she's getting drilled deep by that rigid cock.

The repeated smack of his knot against her pussy eventually gains enough purchase to pop halfway inside her. He wrenches back right away before he can tie with her. Not yet. He's too busy lunging and thrusting in long, swinging motions of his hips, using every inch he's got to drive into the heated leopardess over and over while her shapely body shakes from the impact of his pounding pace. The noises that escape her are as murderous as ever, but that's just how cats are when they're in the midst of long-awaited ecstasy. He gives a little yip when she claws his back a few times, but no real harm done. A born backstabber, truly. That doesn't change the fact that she's yowling on his cock while he works himself closer and closer to knotting with her, popping it back out every time it gets half stuck in her clenching sex. His willpower only goes so far.

They mix their near-feral noise into one collective snarl while he rears back and bucks hard between her thighs for one last finishing thrust. It's hard to say who makes who cum first. The wild convulsions of her near-orgasm are perfect for milking him, but so too is the stretching POP of his knot sinking snugly into her cunt and lodging there. The both of them sync up nicely in breeding bliss, squeezing, twitching, shaking together as they flash their teeth in a collective growl of release. His seed mixes with her pouring juices to stir up inside her or just shoot straight into her womb. He unloads with a satisfying splurch of pent-up pressure, fills her, mates her. The instant rush of tingly satisfaction tells her she's most certainly fulfilling that deep need of hers. In glowing, knocked up satisfaction she finally releases her hold around his waist and settles down with him for a little rumbly snuggle time.

"Hffff ... there, much better, don't you think?" he gasps once the moment settles.

She just gives a little rrrr and a playful glare. "So much for my questing and the priceless treasure at the end of it."

Despite the easy setup for a compliment, he instead turns it back around on her with a silly grin.

"I'm all the treasure you'll need, cat." After that, his expression quickly darkens. "But, allow me to speak seriously. Forget about that thing. Nothing good can come of it."

"Hmph." She'd complain more but she's too busy purring. "I'm still a wanted feline, you know. I can't exactly settle down."

That thought brightens him back up. He perks his ears and looks a little smug.

"Don't you worry about that. I'm a kitsune. You think I can't handle a trick so simple as faking your death?"

"Mrrrrrrr. We'll see. Now ..."

She raises her head as if to squirm out from beneath her. He stops her with a sudden thrust that thumps her back to the cold floor. With his knot tightly shoved inside her, locked in place and not getting any softer, he can't exactly move back and forth much. It's still enough leverage to make her yowl.

"Oh no you don't. We're not even close to even yet. And your pussy is too good to fuck just once."

From a slow grind of his knot to a more steady pace, he simply goes right ahead and continues with her, stirring up that cocktail of sex that squelches inside her. She slumps down and gets a little toothy, a little snarly at first. It doesn't take long for her to relent and submit. That cock feels good. She's still warm, still wet, and his pulsing need needs taking care of. If it means he can forgive her past transgressions, then it's well worth it. Making her cum repeatedly and knocking her up is just a bonus. So what if she's going to let him fuck her until she's a kitsune's drooling slut. Adventurers deserve a break too, even if it means forgetting all about the reason she came there in the first place.

GAME OVER

Chapter 1, Branch 4

[Continues from "Draw her blades."]

No more games. If he's going to hunt her down and interfere with her adventure, then their rivalry needs to come to a decisive end. She's not about to be captured and turned in for any sort of bounty. With her teeth clenched and her eyes blazing into his own, she puts both hands on the hilt of her daggers, ready to fight. That's as far as she gets. She really shouldn't be looking so deeply into his violet gaze, but that seems to be the best way to ready herself for any sort of counterattack. Yet it means when they give that certain glimmer, that little flash of something beyond natural, she catches the full force of his entrancing magic. It keeps her frozen, gripping those two hilts but failing to draw her weapons. Emery gives a chuckle.

"So that's how it's going to be? And here I thought we had a thing."

Her response is little more than a snarl. She can't manage much else with that paralyzing spell clutching her so tightly. Her leather shimmers with the same colour as his eyes as she fights against his magic. To her it's a struggle, a straining effort, but to him she's little more than a statue. She certainly casts a mean expression towards him, but that's about all she manages. Even breaking from his gaze doesn't help her, but it does let her observe the grand reveal of what's beneath his cloak.

He's growing. Not just firming. What starts as a solid, regular size of sheathed kitsune cock soon swells to something greater. She can see him expanding before his eyes, surely with some sort of enchantment. His canine shaft lipsticks from its sheath and swells up towards his belly with some rigid pulses. It thickens out to something broader than his arms, then his legs, and that's before the knot even escapes. That pops free and thumps with his growing desire while he stares her down with that same sultry smirk as ever. Nakedly swishing his many tails, he approaches her, with his hands gliding up and down his towering shaft. That playful smirk never really leaves his lips.

"Ah well." He shrugs. "If you truly are so ill-tempered, then I will just have to get rid of you. Permanently."

Not even the jabbing of his bare cock up near her face is enough to make her break free. She doesn't lack willpower. Being teased like that is the kind of thing that brings the rage out of her. She'd be roaring right that instant if not for that damn spell. It's not fair. She was ready to take him in an even fight, but one little stare and it's already over? Her expression remains frozen in fury while he rubs his dick on her face. It's near the size of his torso by then. He grinds against her cheek, against the swell of her bust beneath the leather, and gives a low huff of pleasure. His balls swing with his every step as he moves around behind her and starts playing with the straps of her outfit. Which isn't exactly an easy task. He takes his time to figure out how to get that armour off her, all the while not even bothering to check if his spell is still holding her in place. Of course it is.

It's not long before he has her down to her spots. He carefully removes her jewelry, making sure not to touch the pointed tips of her pentagram necklace, and sets it aside with the rest of her equipment. There's plenty there to identify her with, but he goes one step further. Idly humping her from behind, he takes one of her own daggers in one hand and a lock of her crimson hair in another. A quick slice is enough to take a suitable trophy. That's enough to infuriate her to the point of her lips twitching with the effort to snarl. But aside from anger, she has to consider something else, too. If he's preemptively taking proof of dealing with her ... what's going to happen to her?

If only she could bite. He doesn't hesitate to rub his oversized dick right in her face, and all she can do about it is endure the humiliation of his casual dominance. A gleam of precum smears across her features and leaves her thoroughly drenched in his scent from one thick gob alone. Seems his productivity levels have gone up right along with the size of his cock. What can't his magic do? She's going to have to consider how unfair it all is another time. Enough grinding against her muzzle and eventually she slips past the initial resistance of his cockslit to dunk her face inside. The most she can manage was a few muscular twitches in response to the humiliating new situation. She can't even get a struggle going when she's utterly held in position by his overpowering charm. All she can do is internally fume while he slurps her down his dick, one flex at a time.

"Hmmmf. This could have gone so much better, kitty. You just had to go and act so threatening. I'll certainly enjoy feeding you to my balls, don't get me wrong ..."

A sudden spasm of his shaft tugs her much deeper, until he starts working that squeezing grip around the swell of her heavy bust. They squish down and make for a bulge while she slides down his cock and towards his hefty sack. He pauses to lick his lips and let forth a little yip of pleasure. Then it's a matter of stroking himself off, massaging his spire until he could feel the shape of the leopardess rogue bulging beneath the surface. Pleasuring himself ensures those flexes come more often. He masturbates her right down into his nuts while she gasps all the way. That means taking in a thick, rich lungful of his scent, one that grows thicker the closer she gets to his waiting sack. By the time he's got her enveloped in his pulsing shaft down to her waist, she splashes into the waiting load gurgling there with its magical potency.

She can't keep her feet from leaving the ground and her legs kicking up in the air. Now she's got gravity to contend with along with the mighty grip of his hungering dick. He massages himself near the knot when he isn't squeezing her confined curves. She's a prisoner in his cock, her hips all outlined beneath the pink-red surface while her toes faintly wriggle on their way to that gaping slit. It's the most movement she's been able to show ever since his spell hit her. Maybe it's wearing off, just a little. That's her only hope while she gets immersed in fresh spunk and assaulted from all sides by the kneading churns of his swinging nuts. They clench up around in her greeting, replacing the hungry swallow of his shaft with the constant embrace of those eager walls and the sloshing splash of his excess cum.

"Just a little more ..." he whispers, yet somehow she still hears it.

The last slurp is the sloppiest. He drags the rest of her down that meaty tower with an extended schlurrrrrp that sends a spatter of precum all over her stripped gear. As well as that door she'd been trying too hard to figure out. If only she got through it faster, she might have avoided this whole situation. No need to consider the other possible outcomes anymore. She made her choice, and now she's swimming in the tight confines of her rival's sack. This is more than just humiliation, domination, teaching her a lesson, any of that. She can tell by the aggressive kneading of the walls and the bubbling heat of his jizz as it soaks into her fur and skin alike. He pats the outline of her stunned face and goes right back to playing with himself.

"I would say there are no hard feelings, but there certainly are, and continue to be. In many senses of the word."

The grip of his spell loosens just enough to let her faintly gasp and whimper there in his balls. She plants her palms against the walls to make for a visible outline along with her muzzle, but that's the best she's going to get for now. A few instinctive writhes and wriggles come when he really starts churning at her. The first few kneads were nothing more than a warmup. Now he's really smothering her in spunk-slick walls and dousing her in the heated confines of his sack. It flexes up around her so tightly as to almost highlight her every spot along with her curves. The constant clenching squeezes her to the point of numbness. She gasps again, a long, hiss-like sound of utter defeat. There's something faintly ghostly about it, and after a minute or two of getting softened up by the musky prison around her, she can see why.

That glimmering outline of herself lights up the chamber briefly, just enough to let her see her own drenched fur all matted down in kitsune cum. But wait - she's not just seeing it from her own eyes, but another set, from the outside. That out-of-body experience ends as suddenly as it began when that perspective gets sucked into his right nut, with her body still soaking in his left. She's pretty sure she knows exactly what's going on, but she's not exactly in any position to put it into words. Instead, he explains it to her, in a raised voice so she can hear him over the churning.

"A troublesome thief like you surely has some sins clinging to your soul. Don't worry. I'll wash those away right along with the rest of you." He gives a soft chuckle. "It's going to be nice knowing that I'm the one who ended your larcenous career."

He speaks proudly for as long as he can, but it only takes a few combined churns of her body and soul alike before he starts to break. A thrust of his hips to pump his cock between his two-handed grip, a deep grunt, even a growl, and he flattens his ears while he fucks the air with pleasure. His next words are delivered through clenched teeth.

"Yessss, Mahiri ... give yourself ... give ALL of yourself to me ... just for my pleasure!"

The command is one she has no choice but to obey. When she gasps, she ends up swallowing some of the spunk she's rapidly becoming. Her body is actively melting thanks to the prolonged exposure to that enchanted jizz. She can feel the numbing feeling creeping up her limbs, weakening her integrity, leaving her closer and closer to sinking down beneath the surface for good. Worse still is the feeling of her very essence being diluted down into melted, faintly glowing goo. His balls digest her soul just as well as they do her body. It all mixes together into a thicker and thicker load that packs his balls to brimming. They go round and smooth, pulled taut by the pressure of that excess load sloshing around inside him with his every swinging hump into his hands. He's drooling by the time his balls force her under the surface of his prey-fuelled load. From there it's only a matter of a few more good churns.

There's enough strength in her softening body to bat at the walls weakly before she's fully claimed by his ravenous seed. Clench goes his sack, squishing down around the semi-solid form of the half-spunk cat and finishing her off. One end is shortly followed by another when the churning of his balls siphons away all the remaining energy in the ghostly form of the leopard's soul. Life and afterlife ended, simply for his pleasure. From there he only has one thing left to do. He staggers up against the wall, right near the hidden door that allowed him to ambush her, and leans his weight against it to keep from falling over. He can't form a single word anymore. All that escapes his muzzle are shouts and cries of selfish bliss and indulgence as he frantically pleasures himself over the creamy, permanent demise of his long-sought rival. She doesn't exist anymore, but the cum sagging his fat nuts certainly does.

There's nothing he can do to contain the mess. As soon as that ecstasy floods his system, he knows he has to flood that basement with the remains of the rogue. His ears go flat and he scrunches his eyes tight while he jerks his way to the perfect, gushing climax. The fat load of former leopard bulges up his enhanced cock, and then bursts forth in a high-pressure jet clear across the entire room. It splats on the wall and dribbles down while he waves his cock about, unloading every single drop in his packed nuts. Not a trace remains of Mahiri but for the faint, ethereal glow around the edges of that thick, white cum. His balls pump up hard beneath his knot to milk out gallons of the rich, musky stuff. He steams up that dark basement with the humidity of his essence, painting it from floor to ceiling and leaving himself splashing in the accumulated mess. He's up to his ankles in the orgasm that was his rival. Despite his talk of wishing it had ended another way, he certainly has no regrets.

His cock stays hard even once he's emptied out a lake of hot cum. A few more twitches, a few more drips, and finally he relents. One long, deep sigh goes with a slump of his shoulders. He opens his eyes, but still has them rolled back a little. He drools, then licks his lips. There's cum all over his own fur, his robe, and of course those many trinkets and pieces of clothing that will serve as proof of his conquest. Oh well. Surely they're still good for the bounty. With a smack of his lips and one deep, satisfied mmmf, he straightens up and comes back down to his own body after nearly ascending to heaven thanks to that cat-fuelled climax. A thorough churning like that will make sure she never comes back. For all the times she managed to get away from him, in the end he has definitively, dominantly won.

GAME OVER

Interlude

Mahiri finds herself standing on the other side of that hidden door with a blank spot in her memory. She's clutching her necklace tight. It hurts, and not just because it's sharp. The moment takes a few moments to fully register in her mind, but soon leaves her flinching and releasing her grip when she realizes just how hot it is. That trinket is blazing, but it settles back down when she lets go. Shaking her hand as if to get the pain out of it, she turns her attention instead to the path ahead. A quick check of her weapons and armour confirms that everything's where it should be. She feels energy and strength flowing through her. A small stone concealed on her person requires just a quick rub with her thumb to activate its magical properties, providing a soft shimmer of light that only she can see. Whatever's ahead, she is ready for it, and it won't see her coming.

At first it's little more than an extensive cave system. Her path forward is an obvious one, with only a single way to go. The sound of water rushing underground grows louder as she makes progress, and the reason for that is clear when she reaches that icy river. The cramped passageway opens up into a large chamber that seems impossibly expansive for being hidden directly below such a populated place. Why hasn't the district above collapsed if there's so much empty space down here? The water twinkles in the mystical light. It froths with intensity at a mere glance, leading further into the tunnel. Continuing down the same way will require some swimming, and she's not sure if she likes the look of that current. Maybe there's another way she can go that might be less dangerous. Stopping where she is, she considers her surroundings.

The place isn't entirely untouched. Someone else has clearly been down there before, judging by the presence of a clearly hand-made door. It's a particularly imposing one, framed by an archway decorated with several arcane symbols. It might be warded. She'll need to be careful if she chooses that path, given the weathered look of the doors, it is probably long abandoned. Such a way forward almost seems too obvious to her. Would they really hide treasure behind a mere door, where almost any adventurer could wander in by accident? She has to think she's not the first person down here, even if she's having trouble recollecting how she made it through the first hidden door. Maybe there are other options just out of immediately apparent sight.

There might be another. She spies it from afar, and steps a little closer to consider. Aside from the gaping mouth of the river tunnel, or the clearly marked doorway, there is a third way forth. The small opening would require some squeezing to properly descend it, but she's certain she'll fit. Perhaps it's simply nothing more than a minor background detail, a quirk of the natural formation of those caves, or perhaps that is precisely what someone wants her to think. All three ways forward promise to be potentially dangerous in their own ways. She fully expects that. All she can do is make a decision and hope she's lucky enough to be right. And that she'll be ready for whatever awaits her in the shadows.

What should she do?

[Go for a swim in the river]

[Push through the old door]

[Squeeze down the narrow tunnel]

Mahiri vs Leon

For Jaeger

[Continues from "Squeeze down the narrow tunnel."

Of course the greatest treasure is hidden in the place that's the hardest to access. An inexperienced adventurer might have chosen the obvious door, or plunged into the treacherous depths of the underground river, but she knows better than that. The tunnel blending into the rest of the cavern, little more than a background detail, is precisely what tells her it's the right choice. She quickly finds her flexibility and climbing skills put to good use. Few others could possibly squeeze their way into such an awkward, confined space, and even fewer could manage to climb down the damp passage without slipping and falling. She breathes shallowly while she descends, squishing her way down while a trickle of cold water splashes on her face. It's not exactly the most elegant of climbs, but nobody said adventuring was always glamorous.

She perhaps occasionally curses her own thickness on the way down, but it's nothing a little wriggling can't solve. Her body is soft and malleable, at least. A bulky warrior wouldn't have stood a chance. Eventually her feet touch the ground once more and crawls her way out into a much larger chamber, lightly panting from the effort, sincerely hoping she doesn't find herself immediately needing to go back up. That's when she freezes. She almost stepped on his tail. A massive, green, reptilian appendage faintly twitches there on the stone floor mere inches from where her boots touched down. She seizes up and slowly raises her gaze to take in the full extent of the creature before her. Thieves like her don't exactly have a good history with dragons.

She's right behind the haunches of that hefty beast. He's resting there amid his treasures, his scaled belly pressed down upon the gold and trinkets accumulated there. Maybe what she's looking for is among them, stashed like all the rest. The rumours never even mentioned a dragon guarding the treasure. She wouldn't have followed them if they had. He's all stretched out much like a cat himself, his leathery wings splayed over his bulk, his scales gleaming their pleasantly aquatic shade of green blue. A pattern of intricate orange markings along his scales contrast with that shade, making him look to her like some sort of ornate vase entirely by his own natural colours. As she scans up along his body, she notices the crest of autumnal feathers in fiery oranges and reds that makes for a crown of sorts. His great horned head still faces forward, ever on guard for possible intruders to devour, seemingly unaware of her presence. There is really no other choice. As much as she dislikes the prospect, it's time to turn around and make the return climb. There's no way she's getting past him when his form blocks the entire chamber.

The moment she turns to leave, his voice freezes her to the spot as surely as if he cast a holding spell.

"Where might you be going, cat?"

She frantically considers her options. As swift as she is, she doesn't think she can climb back up that cramped place before he can whirl around. He has a voice and obvious intelligence - that's good. It means she might be able to reason with him. She can't say she's ever met a reasonable dragon, but there's a first for everything. It's her only hope. With a little clear of her throat, she straightens up and makes sure to keep her hands away from the hilt of her daggers to show she's no threat.

"Oh, me? I was just about to turn back the way I came, until I heard that handsome voice of yours ..."

It's blatant flattery, but she knows dragons. They tend to enjoy even that. He gives a smoky snort and slowly turns around to face her. She doesn't move as he regards her with a fiery gaze, though perhaps she shows a slight flinch when his teeth interlock in a grin.

"Hmm. What's that? It sounds like someone's trying to seduce me. Which means, naturally, that you were here to steal and know you've been caught, so you're thinking of ways to make it up to me without ending up in my belly. Is that about right?"

Mahiri's eyes widen. She gives a flustered shake of her head.

"Oh oh oh, no, now that's not it at all! I didn't even know you'd be down here!"

For all her skill at lying, she's always found herself easily flustered when she's telling the truth and facing doubt anyway. She's far from her usual confident self when she's cornered by a dragon big enough to crush her.

"I see. And you simply chose to navigate a dangerous cavern and sneak into my lair the back way in full adventuring gear for fun? A sneaky, nimble thing like you surely enjoys endangering herself without any sort of reward."

"Well. I mean. There was supposed to be treasure, but not your treasure." She breaks into a nervous grin, knowing full well how that sounds even as she speaks it. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"

"It's good you know your limits, at least. Would you believe some still try to threaten me when I catch them stealing? I appreciate a little self-reflection. Though I am curious what your limits really are."

He licks along his bared fangs with the forks of his tongue, and then slowly swivels around to face her entirely. Seated on his haunches, he gives her a good look at his growing lust. It audibly schlicks from its slit and glistens before her eyes while he fills out with desire for her supple body. She can't help but flinch away from the thickly ridged spire at first glance. It has to be half as long as she is tall, and near as thick as her thighs - which is saying something. That's all before it's even fully hard. It doesn't take long for it to fatten to full, throbbing arousal. The dragon wants her, and at a glance, she can only grit her teeth.

"That is ... a grim fate you're proposing there."

"Oh, don't fuss." He leans his head down near her own and puffs hot air on her mostly motionless form. "There. You see? A little dragon magic. It'll fit. And besides."

With a little nudge of his snout to her bust, and then lower, breathing over her armoured belly, her hips, her thighs, he works himself up into a contented sigh.

"Those curves were meant for breeding. Just how did an adventurer get so juicy anyway? Aren't you supposed to be agile?"

She manages to calm herself a little after he's teased her enough. Her own lust is undeniable. Every moment she spends observing that mighty spire of dragon cock twitching for her is one she feels the heat between her thighs grow more intense. Perhaps she is in heat again. Such things are becoming more and more frequent of late, as if her body is all but demanding that she go out and get bred already. She considers his lewd offer without providing him an answer to his question. It was probably rhetorical anyway. Eventually, his patience runs out, and he lunges at her with a burst of draconic ferocity.

"Alright. I can hear you thinking about escape routes," he growls as he reaches for her. "Come here so I can fuck the mischief right out of you, sneak-cat."

The cry that escapes her when he grabs her with a front foot is one she's not especially proud of. Those claws glide along her leather as a perfect demonstration why even light armour is ever so important for her adventures. They leave grooves upon her dark outfit, but they don't cause any harm to the soft feline beneath. A frightened mewl comes as he pins her down on her face, stepping on her for a moment. She's sprawled out like a crushed bug beneath his dominance for as long as he holds her there, but he refrains from annihilating her just yet, at least. Instead, he works to shred through the supportive straps that keep everything she wears in place. A severed belt clatters to the floor, followed by that utility belt of hers. The rest follows a similar pattern. At least he's surprisingly precise with those claws of his, stripping her from that skintight suit with enough care to keep from slicing her up. Though getting peeled from those coverings means she's going to be walking home naked, if she walks home at all.

Not long after rendering her spotty body relatively bare, and the dragon brings his cock down upon her. The whole thing smacks down on her back, smearing her rosettes in his juices and scent alike. He grinds on her a while, keeping her utterly pinned beneath him with the weight and strength of his dick, playfully rubbing it all over her fur until she's utterly glistening. That's enough to make him snicker. She can feel him gazing down at her while he dominates her helpless self. The heat of his breath puffed on her face reminds her that his jaws are always there, if she's particularly stubborn. It's not all bad. Bathing in his precum is enough to make her all sorts of tender and heated, even a little twitchy. As soon as she thinks about trying not to purr for him too quickly, those rumbles fire up, completely out of her control. There's just no helping but to give him the satisfaction.

"Oh, I knew you were a bad cat, but horny too, hmm? You're just like they say, Mahiri."

She has to give a curious rowl amid the pleased rumbling when he so casually drops her name.

"You know who I am? Just where did you learn a thing like that?"

"I have my sources. Word gets around among dragons, you know. We get together and chat over hot tea about the tastiest rogues we've seen."

The image in her head is so amusing she decides she almost believes him. Finally, she shrugs.

"Well, do I get to know the name of my doom at least?"

"You may call me Leon if you wish. And perhaps I still haven't decided your fate, hmm? No need to give up so quickly when I still haven't seen what you can do."

It's all a bit of elaborate teasing, from the both of them. She's hardly resigned to being dragon food just yet. There are still plenty of ways she might be able to make her escape. Though any path that doesn't involve getting rutted full of dragon jizz is starting to seem increasingly more unlikely. And perhaps even unwanted. She can't resist the needy tingles that leave her writhing beneath him while he rubs those ridges across her sloppy spots. Her rosettes are the canvas for his excess of precum. She's absolutely drenched in his essence long before he even moves into a proper mounting position. When he actually slides his stiff shaft back and points the tip beneath her tail, penetration seems a laughable prospect. She's a durable feline. She's taken plenty of rough poundings in the past and demanded more. Yet even she is surely not so elastic as to take multiple feet of dragon dick without breaking.

It doesn't have to make sense. It's simply magic. She hates magic. Though she can't fault it when it means the dragon can sink the pointed tip of his dick inside her and then start popping those ridges past the initial resistance of her pussy. She's mrowling for him in moments, arching her back and rolling her hips with the motion of her pleasured cries. It's pure shrieky cat noise that grows shaky as it gets louder. The sloppy squelches of her pussy getting extra wet for him surely must be the magic too. She refuses to admit that the great big brute of a dragon is turning her on to the point she's trembling with need. A rolling growl of thunder shakes her to the core as Leon nestles inside of her, buried so deep she can feel the outline of his cock pushing out behind her breasts. She's more like a sheath for his whole cock than a partner. Her legs barely touch the ground once he's fully buried inside her, leaving her impaled upon that stimulating spire, letting it twitch within her overstretched depths, and all without a hint of pain. Perhaps it's just waiting to set in, she ponders.

When he comes down from his growling, Leon speaks slowly and firmly. "If you're a good breeder, you'll be useful to me as something other than dinner."

She's not sure if it's cock that gives a throb in response to those words, or if it's her that clamps down with lust at the thought of getting swollen with a dragon's potent spunk. There's hardly any doubt that it will take. She's lost count of how many half-dragons she's met in her travels, from one species to another. Those great, scaly beasts are renowned for mating with everything they can. One good load of dragon spunk would be enough to get her massively pregnant. And he's not letting her up. His looming presence over her keeps her in shadow, bathing her in his heavy body heat and the constant, almost purr-like rumble of pleasure that comes from simply being inside her. He's not going to stay like that. With one front foot gently on her back, he slowly pulls from her, grinding those firm ridges along her sensitive insides until she has no choice but to scream. It's hardly even a sound of pleasure so much as it is an alarmed wail as if she's plummeting off a cliff. That's what that kind of stimulation does to a noisy cat like her.

"You see? I'm not going to break you. Not physically, anyway. You might be a little dumb by the time I'm done." He gives a little chuckle that quickly becomes a grunt as he lunges forth, driving that cock inside of her to refill the void he left. "Mmmm. I bet I'm not even the first dragon to mount those fine spotty haunches of yours."

Her attempt at some sort of witty retort instead becomes a gurgle and a whimper. She's already drooling a tiny bit. That tends to happen when her tongue is stuck outside her mouth, flopped down as she pants with shrouded bliss. No sense moaning for him just yet, even if that immensely tingly dick fills her out in such exquisite ways. She'll hold out for as long as she can, just to prove some sort of point. She's not sure exactly what that might be. The dragon is hardly one for gentle teasing or erotic buildup. Once he has that feline all wrapped snug around his dick, it's time to lift his rear and thump down into her body hard enough to send an echoing thump all throughout the cavern that serves as his lair. The gold jingles beneath her spotted body while he plows her down fat with a thigh-smacking thrust. His fat, heavy, supremely potent nuts spank her thighs while his knot hammers her ass with each devastating stroke. Yet for as much as she ought to be instantly crushed by such a monstrous show of force, her nimble body somehow holds up to his lusty brutality. That's surely not just her own toughness keeping her whole while he uses her.

While he devolves to constant grunting and thundering rumbles, she can only mewl and groan. His pace quickens and the force slightly lessens once he gets a good feel for her heated, fertile cunt snugly squeezing his oversized cock. He plaps her with those steady strokes, leaving her helplessly jiggling, lunging back and forth along with his every greedy thrust. Faintly clawing at the gold beneath her, she finds herself barely in control of her own body. The spasms and convulsions of pleasure that come from getting drilled deep by that belly-bulging dragon dick are enough to leave her yowling. She's hardly a leopardess anymore, just a loud-mouthed kitty screaming for her new master. There's nothing else to possibly consider when he's pounding her absolutely senseless like that. Some parts of her are going numb, but the rest remain deeply in tune with the pleasure he's rutting into her. She faintly struggles, not to get away, but to simply maintain a hold of herself and keep from utterly shattering his whimpering slut too quickly. Even if it seems an inevitability at this point.

His dominant grunts grow to some heated snorting. She flinches when she imagines him belching a burst of flame, accidentally or not. That fiery demise never comes. Instead, she gets wrenched back along with his hips as he braces for a massive lunge. With her lower half dangling there, stuffed full of his cock, she can do nothing but take the full force of him slamming her back down and flattening her out with a roar of triumph. He arches his back and leaves his knot jammed up against her pussy lips while he bottoms out in her stretched cunt and conquers her in an instant with his engorging load. She feels his ridges bulge out from the force of the spunk shooting through his shaft, and then there's the shock of heat when it enters her body. At first she thinks she's being scorched, and reacts accordingly with frantic writhing and tugging, only to settle down into some soothing rumbles when she feels instead a certain fire being doused. That heated need for potent cum inside her womb is one that's satisfied in an instant from the first rope of dragon cum. He has plenty more to give her.

Snorting, snapping his jaws in the air, Leon fucks that captured rogue full of his jizz until her belly swells out big enough to leave her breasts resting atop it. He fills her and makes her cum, whether she's ready to or not. In that ruined state, her orgasm barely even gets a cry out of her. Instead, she just twitches her way through it, shivering and squeezing on him, letting the good feelings overtake all else. Her scalp crackles with the ecstasy that spreads through to her every nerve, her every pretty rosette. She can't deny that the dragon knows how to fuck, when he's left her a heaving, mewling mess balanced on the rounded shape of her own belly. His knot gives a few solid flexes against her sex and for a moment she thinks he's about to shove it into her, but thankfully instead he slowly pulls back. Every inch he slides from her stretched pussy is another spurt of his excess cum. Even for all that squirts back out of her and onto the treasures below, she remains stuffed, bloated. She doesn't look pregnant so much as simply ballooned out with that fat load of dragon cream, but by the delighted tingles spreading through her belly and around her hips, she knows she's been knocked up with the dragon's next brood.

Before she can murmur any sort of comment on the situation, he stifles her thoughts with a heavy slurp from her thighs to her mussed hair. One stroke of his tongue is enough to leave her slathered in his hot drool, steaming hot as it soaks into her. He smacks his lips a few times and gives a pleased little grunt.

"Succulent, breedable leopardess. It's so very difficult to decide what to do with you. What do you say we leave it up to chance, hmm?"

He reaches for one of the many coins in the pile beneath them and balances it upon his claw. Without bothering to tell her the stakes, he flicks it into the air and gives her a simple command.

"Call it."

She's going to have to decide fast.

What should she do?

[Call heads]

[Call tails]

[Catch the coin before it lands]

Chapter 2, Branch 1

[Continues from "Call heads" AND "Call tails."]

With her vision blurred, Mahiri quickly loses track of the falling coin when it plinks down with the rest. She scans the pile, but she can't tell what the result might be. The dragon just clicks his tongue.

"Oh, bad luck, kitty! Maybe next time."

Whether he's telling the truth or not doesn't matter. He's made his decision. She doesn't feel especially afraid yet. Not after a breeding like that. Surely a dragon like him knows how useful she can be, how good she'll look all knocked up and carrying his brood. He'll change his mind before it's too late, or that's what she tells herself. It doesn't help that he seems so deeply infatuated with her taste. Long strokes of his tongue up and down her spotty form serve to slurp the flavour right from her tasty rosettes. She faintly squirms under the sloppy assault, but she can't do much more than that. Not after a pounding like that. She can barely feel her legs at that point.

"Mmmm ..." the dragon seems to outright moan after getting a good sample of her. That's not a good sign.

She's still on her belly, paws barely touching the hoard beneath her while she faintly struggles her way through the thorough tasting session. He takes surprising care to work his heavy tongue over her every detail, until no part of her isn't soaked in his thickly flowing saliva. She doesn't look back. His breath is hot on her sodden back, but she doesn't look at his dripping jaws just yet. It's not until he gently turns her over and takes the pressure off her gut that she gazes right into the abyss. That sleek, shiny maw gapes before her, warm and oddly inviting even with the strands of drool stretching and snapping in the process of Leon stretching his mouth open as wide as it can go. That showy yawn gives her plenty of time to be transfixed by the ripples and folds of all that slobbery mawflesh as much as she is intimidated by the framing collection of deadly fangs.

It's unlike her to simply submit to her fate so easily. Perhaps it's partly just a matter of knowing there is no escape for her anymore. Not when she's so thoroughly bloated with cum and stunned from their rough mating. More damning than that though is a simple lack of will. Looking right into the open mouth of a hungry dragon is an experience as enthralling as it is terrifying. She can't help but admire all the glistening details, even to the point of arousal. His breath is frightfully hot, steaming in her face and over her naked, drenched fur while he savours in the moment. Only once he's given her a very thorough look, and entranced her with the display of her fate does he lean in to curl his tongue around her curves like a slimy serpent and start dragging her in between his teeth to marinate in his rich drool.

He slowly closes his mouth around her upper half while he drags her into the air. Her legs dangle, faintly twitching, sometimes reflexively kicking, but hardly giving much of a struggle. He refrains from biting or even nibbling her cum-stuffed form, instead cradling her gut over the crest of his tongue and drawing her in inch by inch. Eventually he closes his lips around her waist and takes his time suckling on her body like she's nothing more than a piece of candy. Perhaps to dragons, that's all sneaky adventurers really are, when they're not being a nuisance. Another tasty treat among the many. Though he certainly acts like she's special in some way. She's so easily hidden away in his massive maw, but he takes the time to sample her and savour her until he can hardly suckle any more of her flavour from her body. Meanwhile she can only sputter and gasp as she finds herself nearly drowning in the sheer excess of his saliva. It flows thicker the longer he sucks on her.

A slow curl of his broad tongue between her thighs lets him plap the slippery appendage right against her stretched pussy. Some of his own cum is constantly trickling from her sex, and he soaks it all up in the process of slowly pushing her deeper into his mouth. His breathing is slow and steady, focused solely on enjoying the leopardess before he devours her. At first her legs are stiff with the uncertainty and fear of sliding into a dragon's jaws, but the pleasure of that wet tongue sliding back and forth across her tender, overstimulated folds is enough to bring a mewly cry from her. The soft sound echoes down the cavern of his gullet as it expands before her. With just a trace of light leaking through his teeth, her eyes glimmer in the dark, giving her a good look at the beckoning undulations of the dragon swallowing down all the excess saliva she helps him produce.

"Mm. Mmm hmm hmm," come the dragon's rumbly murmurs while he toys with her.

The vibrations course through the leopard's entire body. She especially feels them between her thighs, stimulating her into further lust despite the danger of her situation. Maybe it's facing certain doom that works the adventurous cat up so much. Rather than pull away from her looming demise, she instead solely devotes herself to pleasure, grinding back and forth along the textured surface of the dragon's tongue in pursuit of that forbidden release. Either she's completely forgotten about her circumstances or she remains entirely aware of how foolish it is to try to get in the jaws of a ravenous beast like Leon. It doesn't take her long to start moaning for him, crying out as she grinds her clit along the grooves of his tastebuds, mashing the taste of her ecstasy deeply into his senses.

Not that he makes it easy for her. She doesn't get to just lie there and hump his tongue all she likes. He has his fun with her, slowly pressing her from cheek to cheek and giving her swollen form some deep squeezes between his tongue and mawflesh. He grinds her lingering essence into his palate to ensure he remembers her long after he's done directly tasting. A rumble in his belly echoes all the way into his sealed mouth, but she doesn't let it distract her. She thrusts and humps and works herself into a juicy frenzy by the time he's thoroughly sucked her from every single angle. Yet climax doesn't come until she's pointed straight down his looming throat.

It's right at that moment, that tipping point that takes her from toy to meal, that sets her off. She shrieks her way through the onslaught of foolhardy release and even manages a few good snarls while she gets her muzzle engulfed in the pulsing gullet of the dragon. Teetering on the drool-slick precipice of gurgly oblivion is exactly what does it for her. Leon gets to feel the defeated cat squirt for him right at the same moment he lets her slide down into his throat for a slow, careful swallow. He treats her gently even then, given the strength of his peristalsis. If he's not careful, he could crush her in the process of gulping her down, and that won't do at all. It's with a slow, rolling flex of his neck and throat alike that he drags the leopard down inside his body, faintly bulging beneath his glistening green scale while she twitches and kicks in reflexive ecstasy. He raises a front foot to cup the outline of her frame while he swallows her whole, kneading on her with the rhythmic pulses of the walls around her, massaging her all the way down into darkness that shrouds even her keen feline eyes.

Despite the assistance of gravity, the long slide never feels like a freefall. It's a plummet for certain, but a slow one, a gradual one that has her inches deeper and deeper into the heat of the dragon's body, listening to his vital processes puff or thump or gurgle all around her trapped form. It's soothing, in a way. Though once she settles down against a wall of initial resistance and then slips through into the chamber that awaits her, reality starts coming back to her. Splashing down into a faintly tingly fluid is enough to snap her out of that haze of bliss. It's far too late for any regrets, any clever negotiation, or even for begging. Not that she'd ever resort to that. It's more a matter of squirming into a proper position that shields her from the incoming splashes and glorps of those fluids as they bubble up in greeting all around her body.

The dragon brings an air of finality to her consumption with a soft belch. It's hardly a belligerent roar of triumph. Instead, it's a casual statement as he settles down atop his mountain of trinkets once more. His gut sags slightly with the weight of the leopard within, belly scales stretched by her presence as she pushes out on the walls. Another mild burp both brings the walls in tighter around the shape of her while stirring up the juices that long to turn her into more of him. The belly noise drowns out any of her murmurs or complaints she might have. It's all sloshing, churning, and steadily rumbling away as if he's a cat himself while he starts to work on her. A lounging, sprawled out pose on his side, with his head resting atop a foreleg allows him to rest with his visible bulge of prey splayed across his gold. That's the perfect position for stroking and admiring her shapely body while it still exists in its current form.

"Before I digest you, care to make any confessions? Come up with a better cover story, perhaps? Or maybe you'd simply like to admit that you've lived your life desperately wanting to become dragon food. My prey doesn't usually cum on the way down, you know."

He idly picks at his teeth with a claw while his gut loudly churns over the rogue's body. It clasps and kneads her with the constant contractions of digestion, rapidly working over her form at a speed much greater than any ordinary belly. The appetites of dragons are legendary for a reason. One thief is hardly going to keep him stuffed for long, even if she's a meaty one. She doesn't provide him an answer, nor does she make much noise at all. She's caught up in the constant squelching and grumbling of that hungry gut, slowly softening, sinking down, smoothing over curve by curve, spot by spot. She doesn't scream nor thrash in panic. Everything's too numb for her to truly comprehend what's happening to her. The graphic details remain mercifully unnoticed by them both while he massages the silhouette of the defeated leopard as it shrinks beneath his scales.

"I thought not. Hmmf. Here I suspected you might have more clever banter for me. But it looks like your last words shall be the shrieks of pleasure you gave me before I swallowed you whole. Do enjoy your stay as dragon fat, dear leopard. It's going to be an eternal one."

She simmers away inside him, shrinking by the moment. In time, even that faint squirming fades while the outlined features of her body smooth over into something more indistinct. Her muzzle, her bust, it all vanishes thanks to the roiling gurgles that slosh around her. Leon strokes his middle until he can't feel anything solid beneath his claws anymore. It's just a soft dragon gut full of digesting food after a few minutes spent churning up his prey. There's no big moment, no grand finale to her struggles. She's simply whole and wriggling one minute, and gone the next. A slow sigh emits from him, a slightly smoky one too, tinged with the last gasps of her flavour. It's a swift end to her adventuring days, but he'll certainly put her to good use.

He's in no rush to move at all while he absorbs her into his great green body. Only when his stomach settles and he feels her joining with him does he bother to rise. His flanks and haunches fill out with a little extra weight while he claims her, as does his gut. It hangs a little lower even when there's nothing left of her, padded with some extra pudge and poundage thanks to the contributions of a juicy feline, all digested and put to better use as part of his body. A luxurious stretch and yawn comes shortly after him climbing to his feet, as if he just woke from a nap. That can come later. First, there comes the most important part of consuming yet another intruder for the mere crime of being there while he's hungry. He gathers up what she left behind, in the form of her boots, her cowl, her various trinkets and weapons, clutching them in a closed fist of claws, and marches his way over to another part of his expansive collection of treasures to drop them with the rest.

That unneeded gear clinks and clatters down with the others to join his trophy collection. Helmets, weapons, and various jewels and charms alike make for an imposing stack there in his cave. They hint at the dozens of adventurers he's gobbled down long before Mahiri ever made her appearance. Not to say she wasn't a memorable one. He takes the time to admire that mountain of collected keepsakes, and reminisces about the various meals that helped him build such a hoard. Whether confident and defiant to the end, or meek and terrified of their gurgly fate, they all digested the same. There have been few like Mahiri though, so swiftly broken and ready to submit to being his meal, as if she always knew it was how a rogue like her was meant to end. With a lick of his lips and a broad grin, he concludes that she was one of the better ones. Best, well that's debatable. With a slow sway of his tail and a jiggle of his padded belly, he makes his way back to his resting spot, with full intent to take an extended nap to celebrate churning up yet another foolish adventurer, and a would-be thief at that.

GAME OVER

Chapter 2, Branch 2

[Continues from "Catch the coin before it lands."]

She might be a blimp of a cat, but he hasn't fucked the cunning out of her just yet. Expecting him to play fair hardly seems the best course of action. She still has those reflexes, that precision that has served her so well in her career up to this point. With a quick flash of movement, she snatches that gold coin out of the air before it can clatter down to join the rest. In truth, she's not sure what that might accomplish in terms of changing his mind, but it's an impressive display nonetheless. She gets another chuckle out of the dragon, who leans down to nose at her while she victoriously clutches that broad coin.

"Hmm. Clever. I ought to have expected something like that. And so? Which side came up the winner, dear cat?"

She doesn't even consider her comeback.

"The one where you don't eat me."

"Ah. Sharp-witted as ever, even after taking my dick. Perhaps you have a point." He gives her another broad slurp, a swifter one this time, but no less messy. "You're absolutely delicious, but it'd be a shame to eat such a prime piece of feline. I think you'll make a better breeder queen than dinner. But it's a close contest."

"I'm flattered. I think."

He simply gives a hearty laugh as he nudges her with a claw. That's plenty enough to turn her over, and she's thankful to have less pressure on her swollen belly. Though she has to wonder what the hell he thinks he's doing with that cock of his. It looms above her, still twitching, absolutely soaked in the juices of their mating. She can't tell if it's dripping pre or if that's just the excess cum pouring down from its glistening inches. Though she can't help but stare all the same. She's already been thoroughly impregnated by that potent breeding tool, but perhaps he can somehow get her more pregnant. If anyone can break the rules like that, it's probably a dragon. Apparently he can read minds too.

"Flattered, and then fattened. You've already taken a considerable amount." He speaks while slowly tracing the blunt side of a claw along the rise of her rounded belly. "Let's make sure you have as many halfbreeds inside you as you possibly can. I want to make an army with you, leopardess."

Even if it's as much a threat as it is a compliment, she blushes at it all the same. Staring up at his titanic cock makes her wonder how she managed to take that thing in the first place, much less how she's going to handle it again. For whatever reason, she trusts him. He wouldn't break her, not when he takes so much apparent pleasure in mating with her. Slowly-lowering his sex-slick shaft down to press atop her belly and throb right in her face, he grinds on her a while just to get her wet and marked with his scent. She takes that as a clear indication it's time to lay her lips and tongue alike on the tip of his cock. Smooching, slurping, savouring, she does everything she can to show how much she appreciates him. The taste of pure dragon is its own reward, thick enough to gulp down along with the excess drool he inspires.

Dragon magic doesn't mean she can swallow that thing, but she can certainly suck as much as she can possibly get her mouth around. The head doesn't quite fit between her lips, no matter how much she stretches her jaws. That doesn't discourage her from trying. The result is some sloppy, hungry attention that soon grows more desperate the longer she feasts upon his flavour. She could get used to this, she soon realizes. The dragon is a studly, handsome beast who wants her. What was the point of the whole quest again, anyway? It hardly matters when she has such a tempting dragon to worship and serve to the best of her body's ability. After letting her adore him for minutes straight, rubbing his cock against her silky fur and sloshing belly all the time, he eventually pulls back.

"Oho, careful there, cat. Don't forget to come up for air." A broad grin spreads across his jaws, intimidating as ever, but she can appreciate how sexy those fangs of his are now that she's fairly certain he doesn't plan on eating her. "Someone likes my taste, doesn't she? Is that why you became a thieving type in the first place, hoping someday you'd find your dragon to sweep you off your feet and put his hybrids inside you?"

"Now that you mention it ..." she manages to murmur between gasps.

"You are a good kitty. Perhaps I shall keep you around as my breeding pet for good. Would you like that?"

"Mrrrrrmmm ..." comes her moaned rumble. It's about as coherent an answer as she can possibly give when such a thought makes her quiver with such intense desire.

"Good. Because I'm far from done with you, leopardess."

Rather than immediately mount her or pin her down again, he instead dips his head down to lay as much of a kiss on her muzzle as he can. It's a messy affair, more like sucking on her face than anything, but he does his best. The same goes for her belly, which gets a drooly smooch before he moves on to nose up between her thighs. She parts her legs as if by reflex, just to give him full access to her stretched-out pussy. Despite the size of the cock that rutted her half silly, she's surprisingly tight again. He can devastate her without any lasting harm, it seems. His power helps her unlock what her body can truly do. And that's a useful trait for him to have, especially when he starts wiggling that wet tongue up against the lips of her sex and slipping the forked tip inside. That slurper is almost as thick as his cock, and plenty warm while it sloppily penetrates her to let him have a deeper taste.

He keeps his jaws open wide while he tonguefucks her. That slurper stuffs her deep, and she doesn't even flinch when he enters her womb with it. The realities of penetration are far from her mind for as long as she's with a dragon. He wiggles his forked tip around within the reservoir of his own spunk inside her. Her taste is still there, but most of it is his own. He doesn't mind. Of course a dragon finds himself every bit as attractive as his own mates. Besides, it's well worth lapping up his own jizz just to hear the leopardess scream. That hammering cock was plenty stimulating with its ridges and bumps, but the curling angles of the dragon's tongue inside her leave her twisting and writhing along with its every single snakelike movement. She kicks her legs in the air and baps her paws against his chin while he pumps his tongue back and forth, plunging in and out and squelching some of that excess cum from within her with every plunge. It's enough to leave her clutching her head and wailing about the pleasure she can hardly even stand before the rocking thrusts of orgasm possess her body like a rolling ocean wave.

That sure didn't take long. He apparently can just make her cum whenever he feels like, if the sudden nature of her second orgasm is anything to go by. She rocks and twitches until she's left quivering right through another good squirt. He takes that one right in the open mouth, and makes sure to lap it all up on his way back out from her clenching pussy. She almost doesn't want to let his tongue go at first, only able to relax her vise grip at the thought that she's going to get a whole lot more attention like that in the future. He licks across the shiny fur of her pussy and makes a show of closing his lips, tilting his head back, and swallowing her juices with an audible, exaggerated gulp. Some part of her is well aware that she might still take a trip down his gullet if he wills it, but in the meantime she is happy just to be as fuckable as possible.

She can't help but feel a little pride at knowing how much the dragon wants her. That much is clear by his lingering gaze at her naked form. He lowers his haunches down just below her paws and lays his cock across her entire body once more. This time, he slowly grinds his way down along the swell of her cum-loaded gut, rubbing every rigid against her skin along the way for an exfoliating massage of sorts, until he finally gets his tip snug against her cunt once more. A light hump sends her sliding back along the bed of gold beneath her. She might be ready and willing, but he's going to have to hold her down if he wants to actually get that behemoth inside her. The dominant clutching of her upper body between the toes and claws of a forefoot is entirely necessary, of course.

From there, he can shove the mewling fucktoy down on his cock without any trouble. He takes a seat on his haunches to balance himself while he tugs her down on his shaft like she's little more than a wrap for his shaft, shoving inside her while she mrawls and fusses at the overstimulation. Her belly wobbles as he stuffs her full once more. She can't do much more than faintly flail while he pulls her up and down his dick with a tight grip all around her squishy body. Those aren't squirms of protest, either. She's got her teeth clenched, her face scrunched, and her eyes shut tight while she whines her way through the pleasure of getting used by such a huge, powerful creature while somehow still surviving. It should be enough to annihilate her, but she endures even once he shoves her down onto his knot to feel it pulse against her pussy while he pumps her numb. She can feel just enough to yowl about while the dragon shamelessly jerks himself off with her entire body at once, sloshing her up and down with her belly and tits alike wobbling wildly with his every stroke.

He balances himself on his hind legs just to get his pumping, stroking, self-pleasuring process going all the more powerfully. Mighty thrusts of his hips resemble fucking that captured cat, but really he's just pleasuring himself with her body. She's already filled to the brim, already stretched taut with how much spunk he put inside her, but he's determined to drive deeper and deeper, far beyond the regular limits of what her body can do. He plaps that bulging bulb against her outer lips until it starts to seem plausible that he might actually get it inside her. She's not of any help. Her contributions are little more than the slightly limp flails of her arms as she clings to consciousness. Every hammering thrust into her body drives the pleasure deeper, ensuring she can feel it radiating down to her toes, to the tip of her tail. It's too much for one sneaky cat to possibly endure. Her eyes are rolling back before he even starts to make that impossible tie with her, nudging and grinding and testing her until she can feel herself stretching out for him, no matter how obscene it might be to even consider getting that entire dragon cock inside her at once.

She's much too far gone to consider the dangers of taking the dragon's knot. And he's far too worked up to stop. He hammers against her, harshly pounding between those creamy inner thighs, squeezing the excess jizz from her cunt in heavy squirts and sprays while he ruts his way home inside her. The swelling thump of his throbbing knot hardly helps him tie with her, but he's determined. A snorting, growling, thundering effort finally has him pop past the snug resistance and solidly lock that massive bulb deep inside the kitty's pussy while she weakly shrieks for him. She can't get much of a scream out anymore. It's more of an extended whine, or a breathy huff as if she's more fussed than devastated by that enormous bulge of dragon meat wedged inside her tender sex. It's only a few moments of having his fat knot pulsing inside her that she launches suddenly into quivering, toe-curling ecstasy, faintly mewling while she kneads him with the convulsions of clenching, squirting orgasm.

Even a dragon can't resist a good squeeze like that. She rapidly contracts around his ridges until she's brought herself to what feels like a second climax, or maybe just an extension of the first. It's impossible to tell anymore. It's enough to shake her from her thoughts, to break her just a little, to make her drool and whimper while she shivers her way through the ungodly pleasure of getting absolutely demolished by a dragon. And that's all before he actually cums. A cavern-shaking roar rattles the golden bed beneath them while he fucks her full of his potent seed. After the initial shock of the heat of his jizz, she can feel it taking, yet again. There's no ignoring those tingling sensations working through her whole he knocks her up with another hybrid with every single shot of spunk deep inside her impossibly stretched body. Her belly bloats and wobbles until it's the size of the rest of her, wobbling away, loudly sloshing about as he turns her from clever rogue into helpless, immobile cumdump for his every single pleasure. His breeding slut, his plaything, his treasure to hoard and keep all for himself. Those are the thoughts in her mind before she briefly passes out in his clutches.

It's only for a few moments. She's not in a coma or anything. When she blinks back to semi-awareness, she finds herself snuggled up against his underside with his knot still deeply jammed inside her. It's only then that she looks down to truly comprehend the size of that penetration. How she's still alive with a cock stretching her all the way to her chest, and a belly so full of his cum she can't even get her arms around it, she doesn't know. She doesn't want to think about it too much. The dragon wanted to fuck her, and he found a way, without even harming her. Though she has to admit she feels a little dizzy.

"Oooof ..." she simply murmurs. It makes the dragon snort.

"You're tough, kitty. I like that. Better now move too much for a while though. You're going to be massive once you start growing." He leans in close and gives her another slurp softer than before, right across her whole face. It's like a kiss. "I'm sure you'll make a fantastic dragon-mother. And I'll be sure to keep any intruders away while you carry for me. Though I can't promise I won't get worked up around such a sultry feline as you."

"Mmhmm ..." is all she can dreamily moan, but she has no objections.

She simmers in the rumbling afterglow and snuggles up against his sex-slick underscales, offering her deepest purrs by way of showing her affection, and gratitude for not eating her. Carrying a dozen or so of his young and going for another sloppy romp anytime he likes seems like a good trade as far as she's concerned. She'll certainly be safe, at least. No need to be constantly putting herself in dangerous situations in pursuit of treasure when she has a big, lusty dragon protector watching over her. Basking in his presence and care while she grows and thickens with the clutch he put inside her is far from the worst way a rogue like her could retire.

GAME OVER

Mahiri vs Tristan

For Factanonverba

[Continues from "Push through the old door."]

Whether the treasure she's looking for is behind that ornate door or not, she's certain she'll find something of value. There's nothing wrong with doing a little looting and then looping back to continue her search. Besides, something just draws her to that place. The stone passageway looks like it'll be hard to move, but she'll find a way. In the meantime, she takes a good look at the mosaic work around the frame, or the symbolic carvings that hold up even after many decades of apparent age. Someone marked that place as special, long ago. She needs to know what's on the other side. Call it professional curiosity. She's always had a good instinct for valuables. It's like she can smell them.

Getting the door open proves strenuous. After a good check over for various traps, magical or mundane, she leans her shoulder into it and hefts. It resists her initial pushing, but in time she can feel it giving way. Something seems to slightly crack under the pressure, as if she's breaking open a seal on something that's gone untouched for untold decades. Maybe centuries. Though it wasn't the hardest thing to find. She doubts she's the first one down there in such a long time. Still, the scent that pours through from the other side is distinctly dusty and ancient. Along with something else. She's no canine, but she recognizes the coppery traces of old blood. Something happened there, long ago. The sins of the past still taint the stone.

That doesn't stop her. Now she really needs to know what's on the other side. She soon finds herself surveying the remnants of a crumbling ritual chamber. There's no other explanation for such a grim sight. The symbol drawn on the cold floor has mostly faded, but it's still faintly visible beneath the dust. She makes sure not to step in the middle of it, even though that pointed star takes up most of the room. That means edging along against the walls, trying to inspect as much as she can. That symbol surrounds a central slab of stone that looks like it might have once been used for sacrifices. There are grooves for the blood to flow, stained dark by those wicked rituals. Just being in there makes her skin crawl, but scanning around, she can't help but imagine it's an obvious place to find a trinket of unimaginable power. Perhaps it's tucked among the crumbling tomes of forbidden lore, or tucked in among the skulls that line a nearby table. As long as she's quick, she probably won't absorb any of the radiant evil wafting around the place. It seems like whatever was once there has long since vanished anyway.

The uneasy stillness means she's attuned to the slightest disturbance. At first she thinks the soft sound of paper rustling is nothing but the wind, but she can't feel even the smallest of breeze. She perks an ear and whirls around in the middle of her search to notice something that wasn't there before. A deck of cards sits upon one of the tables, surrounded by four melted candles. They shuffle themselves while the leopard watches, and then three of them slide from atop the pile to lay themselves out, face up. Then there is silence once more, but for the persistent feeling of someone speaking directly inside her mind. She tries to shrug it off, but the more she ignores it, the more it insists, offering a single, internal command.

"Choose."

She shakes her head, blinks rapidly, bites her lip, anything to resist the compulsion that word inflicts upon her. It's too late. She's already under some sort of spell, pulled nearer to those cards by some unseen force. Magic perhaps, or something more. It feels less like a cheap wizard trick and more like something powerful. She's walking by her own apparent volition, but only because she cannot help but agree that inspecting those cards is the best course of action she can possibly take. At least she has the free will to actually make the decision herself. First, she takes the time to take in the antiquated art that decorates each of her three choices. Beaming skeletons gaze back at her, locked in elaborate poses that spell out the sin they represent. Greed, lust, and pride. Well, guilty as charged on all counts, she must admit.

The first depicts that skeletal figure luxuriantly reclining in a bed of gold. She can't say she's never imagined doing the same. Lust involves two intertwined figures grinding their bony pelvises together. Not exactly the most titillating of images, but she gets the idea. Pride comes explained by a single, towering skeleton in a crown standing tall over all the rest. Well, maybe she's prone to a bit of that, but only because she's had such a long and mostly successful career evading all sorts of dangers that would have put the average adventurer in a grave. She's not sure why she's supposed to choose a card, nor what the consequences may be. Is it a matter of confessing her greatest sins? Is it simply a game? Is there a way to win? All she knows for certain is that she can't step out of that chamber without picking a card. That compelling force keeps her solely focused on that fateful choice. She's just going to have to go with her gut.

What should she do?

[Touch "Greed"]

[Touch "Lust"]

[Touch "Pride"]

Chapter 3, Branch 1

[Continues from "Pride."]

"You think your pride is the greatest of your gifts? Perhaps your selection speaks for itself. I do hope you are ready to prove it."

The owner of that imposing voice doesn't introduce himself gently. The leopardess freezes up when she feels the sudden grip on both her shoulders from behind. The figure is strong enough to easily overpower her. She quickly sinks to her knees without much of a struggle. More than the physical might on display, there is an aura, a radius of absolute power that ensures she remains submissive. There's no escaping him. She's already caught his attention, summoned him with her presence, and all that's left is to slowly turn her head and gaze up at the horror she's brought upon herself.

Perhaps he's not as terrifying as she quite expected. But there's plenty to be afraid of. She finds herself kneeling before a towering doberman-like hellhound, gazing up past a plump sheath and a muscled form to his infernal countenance. He displays a set of fangs so lengthy they can't be contained within his mouth, along with four curving horns, and blazing, featureless eyes. The only thing that keeps her from recoiling in fright is just how attractive she finds him. There's no helping that, and it's probably exactly what he wishes her to feel. That bulky body, that impressive set of nuts, the richly masculine scent - it's all beyond anything she could have ever come across naturally. And his sheath is already twitching for her.

His words come out with a potent growl that makes them harder to make out, but she doesn't miss a syllable with her perked ears.

"If you are so confident in your abilities, then serve me. Pleasure me. I shall let you go if you can satisfy me."

She doesn't say a word. His sheath stirs enough to start drawing back while a thick red canine cock lipsticks forth and fills out to intimidating size. She doesn't let that stop her. Drawn in by a sinful scent, she longs to taste his essence, to lick the musk from his growing shaft. She can't even wait for it to fully firm up. There's nothing forced about the way she lunges for it. It's something done entirely of her own free will, out of sheer desire, and nothing more. The only thing he's done to manipulate her is to be so unnaturally desirable. Her eagerness is swiftly rewarded when she lays her tongue upon his balls and samples a flavour that's enough to drive her to madness if she ever finds herself without it for too long. She's an addict from the very first taste.

Along with his flavour, she samples plenty of his scent with some deep, reverent sniffs of his nuts. There's nothing to spare for shame or pride alike. The demon dog is convinced she is a worthy worshipper. Her continued existence relies on showing him how good she is with her tongue. She could kneel there before the hulking canine and breathe his offerings until the sky came crashing down, but she knows she has to impress him. Soon after filling her lungs with that intoxicating scent, she slathers up that plump sack with some tingly strokes of her tongue. There's no need to hold back and avoid overstimulating a demon. She can use that harsh texture to its fullest potential, dragging back and forth, up and down, soaking up those two titanic orbs until they glisten with all the drool she's painted across them. The hellhound gives a snort, a growl, then a heavy lick of his chops. His command is snarled.

"More."

There's no time to savour him. She doesn't want to let him grow impatient. Licking her way up along the swell of a knot the near the size of her head, she tends to that veiny, pumping dog dick until she can lay her dark lips right against the tip. That necessitates rising from her knees, bent over before him, servicing his fat cock while it spurts in her face. The heat of his precum overrides her sense of taste at first, leaving her briefly recoiling, thinking she's been scorched. Warmth floods through her body and leaves her sweltering beneath her leathers once the musky taste of his fluids becomes apparent to her. That lewd, forbidden flavour leaves her rumbling, leaves her sucking on her tongue just to get as much of it into her palate as she possibly can. It leaves her soaking with lust, drenching herself in an instant. She can feel her own juices slowly trickling down her inner thighs from the absolute shock of arousal that comes with licking a mere few drops from the tip of his shaft. He has so much more to give.

The heat inside her is such that she feels as if she might simply melt, liquefy on the spot. When she feels something pouring down her form, she almost wonders if that's exactly what's happening. Something's dripping down from her fur, turned to a thin black fluid like ink, but it doesn't stain her. Those liquid leathers melt from her body, turned to little more than a puddle all around her, a stain upon that ancient summoning circle. Her weapons clatter down to the floor along with them, with nothing left to hold them. She's naked and unarmed before the demon. It wasn't like she would have been any safer if she still had her daggers within reach. What would they do against him? The only thing that remains after her outfit changes form like that is one single trinket around her neck. That pointed star remains poised atop her tits, radiating some kind of electric sensation. Perhaps it's what's giving her power to keep servicing him. She has never truly understood its true nature after all.

At least this time he doesn't urge her along. Perhaps he is pleased. She takes her time bracing herself to suck that oversized shaft. It's going to mean stretching her jaw around his girth, but she trusts in her abilities. The context of the decision wasn't clear to her at the time, but she's not going to let it be a false claim. She boasted of her abilities to a demon, however accidentally. She's just going to have to give the best blowjob she's ever given if she's to come across as anything but a liar. A gape of her jaw around his member and she slowly sinks her way down on it, inch by inch. The solid twitches between her lips while it slides along her tongue and pushes towards her throat must mean she's off to a good start, but there is plenty of work to be done. By her purring, suckling, even moaning efforts, she's up to the challenge.

"Hm," he simply says, thinking out loud. "Continue."

That he's granted her permission to keep sucking his demonic cock is approval enough for her. He hasn't struck her down on the spot yet. That's a good sign. She finds she can impress even herself with her own capacity. A throat-bulging gulp of his fluids before she stuffs the pointed tip of his canine dick into her throat more or less prepares her for that strain. It's not as bad as it could be. She adjusts surprisingly quickly to the sheer size stretching out her neck fur and swallows a little more. The demon, for his part, is patient. He doesn't fuck her face nor grab her head. Instead, he towers above her, arms folded, maintaining his composure but for the occasional sharp breath or raised rumble of a growl. She's going to have to do better than that, but first she has to adjust to the jaw-aching feeling of sucking the biggest cock she's ever had between her smooth black lips.

When she can't simply stuff the whole thing straight down her throat she resorts to kneading with both hands. That knot twitches in response to her every squeeze and she gets another spurt to swallow as a reward. That tells her to keep going, even if it means guzzling from his shaft while she services and sucks as much as she possibly can. She's got it bulging all the way down to her tits. That requires angling herself to come straight at it, muzzle first, bent right over while she sucks and bobs and guzzles. Her belly is already starting to feel full, even taut, from how much she's drunk from the tap. She doesn't let that stop her. Her drool is thick while she saturates herself with his taste, diving back and forth on his shaft, letting it plunge inside her to an obscene depth. No matter how excessive it might be, she refuses to stop, refuses to even flinch while she offers the demon dog the worship he deserves.

The only break in her concentration is to glance up at his hellish face and try to gauge how he's taking it all. That perpetual grin-snarl remains on his face, even as his forked tongue flicks out and writhes between a slight parting of those shining fangs. He's drooling for her. Saliva cascades down from his jaws and chin to gather on his broad chest. Perhaps it's from pleasure, perhaps something else. She decides it's not worth staring into the eyes of such a horror and instead closes her own to focus solely on sucking him until she's mesmerized by his rich flavour, but the musky grind of canine dick across her tongue. Every single suckle grants her a new taste, a new sample of something sinful for her to consider and swish through her senses before swallowing it down with all the rest. She can feel the warmth in her belly, the lusty sensations spreading throughout her extremities. Of course she doesn't expect to suck a demon's cock without getting corrupted at least a little. She just hopes she'll still be herself by the time she's done.

The hound shifts his arms, unfolding them simply to place them on his hips. He still doesn't grab her. Mahiri hopes that means he trusts her to finish him off without his assistance. She can feel those throbs, those veiny bulges swelling, those thicker spurts that make her pause mid-suck to swallow down yet another throatful of his tempting juices. Her eyes water a little. She's drooling on her own fur. There isn't a trace of her leathers left. She's sweating, heaving, shaking with the effort to make that demon cum with her mouth and throat alone. Her generous application of her tongue between gulping sucks grows a little desperate. It occurs to her she's barely breathed, but somehow that doesn't bother her. She sustains herself on demon juices for as long as she's got that dick stuffed down her gullet. He gives her life even while he implicitly threatens destruction just by nature of being what he is.

The snarl he spits from his jaws when he reaches that clenching peak is akin to the sound of a feral mauling. Thankfully those teeth don't touch her while she offers up her belly for his spunk. He doesn't pull back even while his cock swells to an even thicker size inside her. She nearly leaves her feet with the force of his pulsing shaft keeping her up. He clacks his fangs and claws the stained floor while he buries himself knot deep in leopard muzzle. Her eyes roll back as she feels the heat enter her. Pure demon seed cascades down her throat to sag her belly in an instant. She hardly has to swallow when it blasts straight down into her swiftly bloated gut with the sheer force of those heated shots. He bucks just once to tap that solid knot against her chin and then leaves her to slowly slump, utterly stuffed, inundated with his cum, sinking to her knees from the weight alone. A sloppy slip from his shaft leaves her sputtering, coughing, choking up some of the excess cream while she prostrates herself before him in a properly worshipful pose, even if it's an unintentional one.

"Pssh. Is that all, leopard?" He speaks her species as if it's an insult in itself. His jizz still streams down upon her back, marking her rosettes, soaking and matting her hair. "You look broken. Defeated already. You ought to be lunging for another taste the moment I let you go."

Mahiri's mind races. She knows she has to think of something to appease him quickly, but her body isn't doing her any favours. It is inescapably mortal, and has limits. He's probably used to having legions of lovely succubi sucking his cock. She can't compare to such hellish talents. Rather than offer any sort of comeback, she simply continues coughing and wheezing her way through the aftermath of his cumshot. His shaft is still standing at attention. It gives a few heavy thuds of lust while the dog just snorts impatiently.

"I thought as much. Your pride is highly misplaced. You are average even among mortals. But I still have a use for you."

She slowly gazes up at him with her eyes wide. Her fear shines through them despite her best efforts to hide it. It's hardly her own voice coming out of her when she speaks, replaced in steady by a quivering, weak kitten.

"But you said if I could ..."

The proof of her success clings to nearly every one of her rosettes. Yet the demon isn't snarling any less. He looms closer and closer until she's made to instantly perspire in the heat of his breath. He reaches for her throat, and clasps that single trinket that managed to stay attached to her. For months, it has remained attached to her, bound to her, despite her best efforts. Yet all it takes is a mere tug to snap the chain and take it for himself.

"I told you to satisfy me." He points to his still-erect cock and casts a dark look upon her that feels as if all warmth has left her world. "Do I look satisfied?"

She doesn't have an answer for him. All she can do is bask in his judgement while he continues.

"It seems I have you all to myself. Even your mistress turns away from you."

She blinks. "My what?"

Mahiri doesn't know what he's talking about. She doesn't have the time to consider it. Once he has cast aside that necklace, leaving her truly bare at last, he grabs her by the shoulders and lifts her off her feet. She dangles there in his grasp, utterly helpless, unable to do anything but look directly into his face. It's different now. He's not just smiling broadly. The corners of his mouth curl up higher and higher, to a frightening degree, revealing fangs where his cheeks used to be. Ear to ear indeed. Another set of darkened eyes are almost imperceptibly black until they blink at her amid the menacing stare. Drool of pure black drips from a double-tipped tongue. It's no longer just forked, but splits off near the start to leave to lashing, writhing things wriggling about and flinging that shadowy spit. A crown of spikes extends from his skull, as if he's grown thorns as his demonic side grows more apparent. He is bigger than her, stronger than her, and his gaze betrays his hunger.

She doesn't get a word in. From that moment on, it's nothing more than a primal struggle. The lash of his twin tongues leaves them whipping around her curves, binding her waist and throat alike. He doesn't quite strangle her, but it's not exactly easy to breathe with that slimy appendage squeezing her neck with the strength of a serpent. She's smeared up in that strange fluid until her spots have all but vanished. The maw of nightmare fangs gleams for her. He drags her from her feet while she struggles with the binding grip of his tongues. She can't wrench them off of her. She can't claw them. He doesn't flinch, no matter how vicious her attempts at escape might be. Up she goes, drawn closer and closer to her doom while he opens up wide and drools pure sin in anticipation of chomping her.

That's her assumption anyway. She gives a cry and shoves out her arms when she nears his mouth, trying to shove against something, anything, just to slow her progress towards his teeth. Yet when he stuffs her in his jaws, he doesn't bite her, or even nibble her just yet. She's instead smothered into the base of his tongues where they both meet and immersed in the slobbery touch of his heated maw, to be pushed from side to side and spread across his palate. He samples her flavour while he clutches her between his teeth. She can feel the pinprick touch of his fangs against her belly, as if to warn her of the bodily harm that could come from fighting him too much. She doesn't let that stop her. Two spotty legs kick wildly where they stick out from the hellhound's mouth. It doesn't amount to much aside from expressing her defiance at being eaten, but perhaps that is the best she can hope for.

He shows her what he thinks of her struggles with an extended slurp around her body. She has no choice but to get dragged in by that powerful suction, slipping along his tongue until she is almost fully inside his mouth. From her perspective, she's not entirely sure how she can fit so well. He must have grown even larger in the time it took to catch her and put her in his maw. Her paws wriggle between her lips while he teases her pads and toes with swipes of his toe tongues, back and forth like a pendulum. It tickles a little. The constant squelching squeeze of his wet maw around her naked curves is enough to almost drive her deeper into pleasure despite the mortal fear she's experiencing. His gullet looms. She can see that darkened tunnel thanks to her keen feline eyes. It's a natural talent she's not exactly thankful for when it means she has a constant view of her own impending demise.

He tires of teasing her all at once. From savouring and suckling her spots, he moves to swiftly gulp her down with a tip of his muzzle. She glides down over the crest of his tongue despite her best efforts to fight him. Digging her heels and elbows in against his tongue doesn't help much when the surface is so very slippery. A plap of her face to the back of his throat leaves her crying out as the flesh undulates and compresses around her upper body. It nearly chokes the life out of her from the sheer force of his swallows. He stops just short of crushing her while he forces her soft, mortal body into the darkness of his digestive system, or whatever a demon like him has as an equivalent. She can't imagine it's going to be pleasant, even if she finds herself touching down into a deep, damp hollow that's much less hostile than she expected.

Gone in a fleck of corrupted drool, she's left to swell out the hellhound's middle, but only modestly. He pats her a few times. A belch escapes him, proud and bellowing, as if to remind her of the crudeness of her impending fate. The moment she's fully curled up within him, the walls close in to squeeze her. They compress her muscles in a slow, kneading massage of sorts, if a demanding one. She pushes back and finds them much more powerful than her. If she resists too much she's going to end up breaking a limb, which will only make her prolonged stay within his unholy body all the longer. If only she'd taken a different profession. If only she'd listen to the clerics about what would happen to her soul if she continued on her path. She never thought their proclamations about demons consuming her soul would prove correct in such a literal sense.

She can feel it. The juices trickle upon her fur in mimicry of a typical digestive process, but there's more than that going on. She's separating from herself, slowly soaring up from her trapped body. Sensations come to her in two places at once as the walls squish down on her flesh and spiritual essence alike. There's nowhere for that to go either. It remains every bit as trapped inside his stomach as the rest of her. She paws the walls, she kicks, she fights against the notion that her adventures might end in such a horrifying and undignified fashion. Maybe it won't happen if she refuses vehemently enough. It's hard to tell what the demon is up to anymore. He strokes her, pats her, and gives the occasional groan while his belly slowly absorbs everything she is. There's nowhere he needs to be. He can lounge and enjoy his prey for as long as he wants.

Perhaps he is digesting time itself as well. She feels as if hours have passed at the same time as mere minutes. Her curvy form ever so gradually breaks down along with the twinkling essence of her soul. She fades. It's a tangible feeling as she diminishes along with the demonic canine's digestion. It doesn't physically hurt, but that's a minor boon when she can feel her very existence being disintegrated so casually with every single churn. She gives a silent cry, a ghostly wail that never quite leaves her melting muzzle, and slowly slumps down into the sludge that is what's left of her. No pain, only terror. Her every squelching moment is spent knowing that this is it, the true, final end, the one that means no coming back, no priest or healer can possibly revive her from such a gruesome fate. With that final thought rattling through her mind, she sinks down and accepts that she is nothing more than a demon's dinner, for good.

A weak, shaky hand reaches up from the soup of herself before she sinks back down again. Then she is motionless as the process mercilessly works her body like it does all mortal flesh. She's no different from the rest. The hellhound's belly gradually smooths over, taut as ever. He's perhaps slightly pudgier than he began as he absorbs her and assimilates her into his muscular bulk. His form gradually returns to some semblance of normal while she passes through his system, but not quite the same as before. The leopard's former self is claimed a little more thoroughly at every moment, added to his body, enhancing everything he can. A thicker chest, firmer arms, a fatter cock, and even a rounder ass. He knows how to make use of her. She vanishes from the world and makes him a little sturdier, a little heavier, and much more satisfied than before. Digesting her body and soul alike has reinvigorated him. The demon has awakened from his slumber, and the door to his chamber is open. Perhaps it is time to walk among mortals once more, appearing as a regular, friendly dog with a pleasant smile. No one would ever guess to look at him that he carries the soul of the rogue within him, along with untold legions of others.

GAME OVER

Chapter 3, Branch 2

[Continues from "Lust."]

The echoing sound of an ominous chuckle fills the leopard's ears at her selection. The card disintegrates the moment she lays a finger upon it, as do the others. Then there comes a voice.

"Your greatest of strengths, is it? All your thrill-seeking, is it nothing more than the pursuit of pleasure unlike any you've ever experienced before? You have called upon the right demon, in that case."

She feels her heart sink at the mention of demonhood. Yet at the same time, she can't help but feel a tingle of excitement running up her spine. She doesn't move, even when she feels a large hand upon her shoulder, and the warmth of someone's breath on the back of her neck. That low, steady voice continues.

"I have something to show you."

When she whirls around, she doesn't even immediately register who she's looking at. All she can notice is the sheer size of his cock. It juts up in front of her, near half the size of its owner. A thick, sturdy, rigid red canine dick throbs inches from her face, leaving her breathing slowly, trying not to overwhelm her senses with that masculine scent too quickly. Only after getting a good look at that veiny spire, that tower of lust standing tall before her does she pull her gaze away and consider its owner. The hellhound gleams his lusty grin down at her while she admires his impressive girth. Glimpsing the rest of him is enough to make his oversized cock seem less excessive. Of course a wicked creature like him would sport such a thing.

Whether it's his fangs, his horns, his featureless red eyes, or simply the presence of his broad, exceptionally muscular body, she knows immediately what he is. The revelation fills her with dread and curiosity alike. There's nothing she can do about it. Unless she turns and runs out of the room right this moment, she's just going to have to do exactly what the demon wills. Perhaps he'll be merciful with her. His grin of many teeth stretches past the normal limits of a canine smile, but she likes to think it's still a pleasant expression, as best a demon can possibly display. He gives a slow caress along his cock, leaving her to listen to his fingertips glossing along the surface before he speaks.

"You spend your life worrying, fretting, tending to your every other boring need. Wouldn't it be so much better if you could simply live for nothing but pleasure alone?"

Now a two-handed grip. He casually rubs himself up and down, letting her watch the bounce of his ample sack while he looms in front of her. She has hardly moved a muscle. Yet at that, she quirks a brow and dares respond to him.

"I ... well, yes. Though I'm not so foolish as to simply take an obvious demon at his word."

"Aren't you? I can smell the corruption upon you already. And it's not mine. You've been cavorting with my kind, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She says it defiantly, but even as she does, she feels a twinge of guilt. Was that a lie? She's fairly certain it wasn't, but something feels wrong anyway.

"That is alright. I shall finish what she began. You will be so much happier as a being of pure lust, leopardess. I see the potential inside you."

He reaches down to cup his balls, just so he can drop them and let them bounce a few times. Watching them jiggle leaves her biting her lower lip. She knows how much she wants him to just ... do things to her. It doesn't matter what. But submitting to him so easily seems a betrayal of her roguish dignity. She has a reputation to uphold, no matter how much her pussy might ache. To say nothing of the dangers of going along with a hell beast's plan. She's hardly thinking about that, in truth.

"I will not force you," he calmly tells her. "If you wish to know what I can offer, you need only lick my cock. I will wait while you decide. The door is open if you prefer. Simply know you shall always wonder what you missed as you toil in the mundanity of the flesh, tending to your blander needs."

What does that mean? She does her best to consider the possible tricks hiding in his words. Does he mean to simply end her life, so that he can say he's freed her from all pain and misery forever? That almost seems too obvious. There's something more to his offer, something unfathomable, something deliciously tempting. She's fairly sure he's not controlling her mind when she finds herself coming wandering closer. Perhaps his musk is an intoxicant, but her will is still her own, if addled. She takes the tiniest steps she can as if to show her reluctance, but that doesn't change anything. A mere few seconds of contemplating an existence never knowing what she could have had is enough to convince her to submit to him. Getting a taste of his titanic dog dick is just a bonus.

He gives a pleased sigh mixed with a chuckle when he feels her scratchy tongue gliding up and down his shaft. She gets a few long minutes to simply savour him. His flavour is the sort she could slurp for hours. A richly masculine essence unlike any other, it dances through her senses, ensuring every single lick is its own reward. He tastes like what she likes - it shifts a little with each slurp, adjusting to her preferences, ensuring he's the most pleasant thing he can possibly lick. Once she's thoroughly spit-shined near every inch of his shaft from knot to tip, or as high as she can reach standing up on her toes at least, he gives her an approving nod.

"Very good. I think you have certainly made the right decision. I'll make sure you have no regrets."

There again is the doubt in the back of her mind that he secretly means he's going to erase her capacity for feeling regret, but the taste on her tongue keeps her from worrying too much. She licks him until he gives a sudden snap of his fingers. Nothing physically touches her, but she reacts as if yanked back by invisible chains. A scream escapes her lips as she arches her back and sinks to her knees, pumping her hips with the sudden eruption of climactic pleasure between her thighs. Her armour and weapons melt from her body as she launches into an instant orgasm on his command, left squirting for him while she kneels before the demon who so effortlessly manipulates her pleasure. What starts as a scream turns shaky after a while, but never ceases. A sudden surge of power within her turns that wail of pleasure into a mighty roar. She flashes her fangs and bellows her bliss until it finally simmers down. That was a mere sample of what he can do for her.

She doesn't offer much resistance when he reaches down to snatch her up in both hands. He makes her feel like a toy with the ease of hefting her. She's naked and coated in her juices, writhing, rubbing her thighs together, simply watching him while he licks his lips in front of her. This must be it. The big revelation that he was untrustworthy all along is surely about to come. He'll devour her and she'll feel stupid for ever trusting him, for as long as she can still feel. She's so convinced that's the obvious outcome that she doesn't even notice her paws dipping into his cock until he gives a clench up around her ankles.

A gasp escapes her and she glances down to consider the mighty grip his dick has around her feet. A tug proves useless. He has her. And the tugging clenches drag her a little deeper every single time his cock throbs. He clutches her and carefully watches her reaction while she considers just how she feels about this at all. It's not until his shaft starts squeezing on her thighs that she lets out a rattling moan. There's a faint whimper in her voice, but it's not one of fear. She wants to know what he has for her. It's more than just oblivion. She's convinced of that, refusing to believe anything else. Even with his scimitar fangs shining at her in a demon grin, she can do nothing but trust him, even if it's foolish.

Sinking past her waist in canine cock is enough to leave her writhing with near-orgasm once more. She's immersed in heat and can only faintly wriggle. The constant kneading of those gulp-like squeezes feeding her to his balls is enough to keep her perpetually near a peak, shaking, squirming, even convulsing while he sexually devours her. Her breathing stops short when he squeezes up over her belly, then her chest, squishing her breasts down flat. He consumes her until there's nothing more than her head outside his shaft, gazing up at his approving expression, watching him nod his head with the utmost of approval. If she has any remaining fears, then he's sure to dispel them with his low, steady voice. It's friendly even with the demonic booming.

"Do not worry about oblivion, leopardess. With my gift to you, you shall transcend death."

She's still not sure what that means. It doesn't matter. Her thoughts go convergent and then blank while he overtakes her face in the clamping grip of his cock. The walls squish around her muzzle but never fully smother her. She can breathe just fine. That means inhaling the pure, unfiltered musk inside him. It only gets stronger as she dunks down into the pool of his balls. They're packed full of spunk, more a chamber than a proper organ. She doesn't ask questions about demon anatomy when she's waist deep in fresh cum. The demon finishes his sloppy swallow with a sound much like a gulp ringing down the tunnel of his shaft until the cat is fully consumed. She goes under, submerged in his jizz while the stunning sensations overwhelm her a little longer. Eventually she thrashes her way back to the surface to keep from drowning, coughing up some of the excess cream she swallowed in the process.

It's a futile struggle. Hardly a few moments inside of him and that chamber's already churning inwards to squeeze and knead her deeper into the rising pool of spunk. It squelches around her while she pants and swelters in the mess. Numbness spreads up her toes and to her paws while she gets sloshed in pure demon seed. Pushing her palms flat against the walls makes for a visible outline in the big dog's nuts. He gives those balls a deep rub whenever he notices the bulge of her body, subduing her and teasing her all in one indulgent self-grope. That shape grows softer and more malleable the longer he works her into softened spunk. It's not a gentle process, but it's a pleasant one. He squeezes hard enough around her melting curves to nearly crush her, flattening her out a little more, changing her shape with the horny pressure. The chamber fills with the cum she's turning into until his balls smooth over and plump up with the extra weight of his prey-fuelled load. He slowly strokes his shaft the entire time, giving some humble doggish pants, only to suddenly speed up when the cat is at her softest.

She can no longer lift her arms, or squirm much at all. She's already halfway to being cum by the time he finishes her off. One good hard flex around the remaining solid mass of former leopard is enough to squish her softened form right down flat and leave her indistinguishable from the rest of the jizz packing the hellhound's balls full and taut. She doesn't even have a chance to consider what she thinks of it all. At first she assumes it's the end, right up to the moment she realizes it's not. She might have met a physical end inside the nuts of the horny dog, but she's still thinking, and more importantly, still feeling too. With every passing moment she finds herself more and more aware of the clenching of the dobie's sack, the twitching, aching lust throbbing through his shaft. His pleasure and hers are one and the same by the time he finishes merging her consciousness into his own flesh. And then all is blank but for the ecstasy when he hits his peak.

Climax becomes the entirety of her being while he shoots his cum all over the chamber. She can feel it soaring from what she's become, can feel every delightful twitch and pump. If she could scream, she certainly would, but all she can do is allow herself to be caught up in the moment while the demon empties out his balls and splatters the entire room in the excess jizz that's all that remains of her body and soul alike. Some of her even enters him again when he catches some of that spunk in his mouth and smacks his lips a few times while he sucks and savours her taste. Maybe there's some trace of her left in that mess, some part of it that's inherently, tangibly her.

Somehow she just knows what's happening to her, but the implications are far from her mind when she's a living cumshot, a full-body orgasm, part of that knotted cock and enduring every single tingle running through the demon's nerves. That's where she shall stay, part of that infernal body, left to helplessly share in the many carnal sensations he'll experience in the future. Every stroke, every lick, every fuck, and she'll be there, indulging right along with the insatiable demon. She fuels his lust with her presence, inspires him to crave even more depraved acts than what he's already done, leaves him dripping and panting, standing in a flood of his own spunk. Their partnership shall be a fruitful one over the next span of history. The leopard she was paints the walls of that abandoned place, a stain upon the stone, but she lives in in a new form. Her existence is nothing more than lust and pleasure, without another worry in her mind. And there is just so much for her to feel.

GAME OVER

Chapter 3, Branch 3

[Continues from "Greed."]

"Hm. An obvious choice, but I cannot help but agree. That is your greatest virtue."

The voice booms from all around her. She can't tell where it's coming from. It's everywhere, inside and out, speaking in a low, sultry tone. There's a slight rumble or perhaps a growl to it. She knows it as canine after a mere few sentences. He flows all around her, inhabits the room with his warmth, but he hasn't made his appearance just yet. Instead, he lets her bask in the trembling anticipation. Her body does such strange things as she waits. She can feel herself twitching, muscles flexing all on their own as the tension builds and builds, until her chest pounds and her breath comes in short, shaky gasps. Yet for all the terrible images forming in her head of twisted abominations and unspeakable horrors, when he finally steps from the shadows he's simply a dog. A handsome one, but not what she expected.

She scans along the form of the sturdily-built doberman with narrow eyes. Surely there's something about him that's not quite normal, something that must explain why she feels such a curious spike of fear just to look at him. He's not wearing a single shred of clothing, for one. That hardly bothers her. It gives her a better chance to look over his burly chest, his carved middle, his heavy sheath. There's just something else about him that sets off a sixth sense of hers. Perhaps it's nothing more than her cat side feeling all flighty and feisty around a big strong dog.

"Hello Mahiri. I'd hoped you'd choose this path. It is one of the more pleasant ones."

She doesn't know what he means by that. Her eyes keep straying to that pleasantly plump sheath of his. It stirs for her as if stimulated by her gaze alone, and she can't stop looking. Nor can she resist the effects of it. He's obviously something more than he appears. It's entirely likely that she should not for a moment entertain the thought of getting any closer to him. Yet when he offers her that kind smile, that little wag of his tail, she can't help but find herself immediately endeared to him. Of course he won't hurt her. A good dog like him never would. It's with that self-confident assurance that she's in no danger that she accepts his offer of his hand. It's warm to the touch. Perhaps unnaturally so in that dark cave.

"I am called Tristan," he simply says, then adds with a knowing smirk, "sometimes."

She ponders her response for a while. The friendliness is almost disconcerting, but it comes off as so genuine she can't help but believe it. Finally, she gives him a nod.

"Well. Good to meet you. Seems you already know me."

"We've met before. Another time. Another world. The sensations ripple down for me to feel, even now."

When he says that, his stirring sheath gives a much more visible swell, twitching before her. It catches her eye, and she doesn't even bother to hide how blatantly she examines him. She can feel herself warming up. It's not just his unusually high body heat, but a growing sense of lust and desire for the creature she doesn't fully understand. A demon, most assuredly. Not the first one she's ever met, but not for lack of trying. Her previous encounter with one remains blotted from her mind, a dark spot in her memory. It seems that merely thinking about it awakens something in that necklace of hers. It stirs atop her tits, twitching as if it were alive. Tristan gently reaches for it.

"You've been around others like me before. I can feel it. I don't think she minds if I add some finishing touches to what she already started."

Mahiri doesn't do anything when he touches that seemingly soul-bound trinket. It's got her out of bad situations before, or at least she thinks it has. In the aftermath of such situations, she always finds herself a little forgetful. Yet it doesn't seem to react when he tugs it from her neck, snapping the string and taking it for himself. It's the first time she's managed to be rid of the thing since acquiring it. She feels about the same. Perhaps it was nothing more than a trinket after all. When Tristan returns to her, he's wagging and smiling as ever, just a good, friendly dog who she's happy to let touch her and smooch her all he likes. That's something he transitions into smoothly, pressing his muzzle to hers and locking tight in a kiss that soon turns slobbery, in a proper doggish way.

She's not sure how he managed to strip her so easily. With his tongue firmly in her mouth, and his hands gliding up and down along her curves, she simply notices his fingers rubbing along her bare fur all of a sudden. There's no pile of clothes nearby, not even the shreds of torn leather. She is naked as if she always has been, with a pair of deft hands groping deep into her curves. Rather than bother being confused, she simply allows herself to deeply purr while she takes in all that attention. The dog's lust is apparent in his every touch, if the swelling rise of his knotted cock isn't already obvious enough. He presses that against her slightly soft belly to let her feel its every throb. It's not long before it spits a thick stream of precum across her fur, marking her down in a fragrant spice she can't quite place. For a seemingly simple dog, he has an exotic scent that ensures she's plenty wet by the time he dips a finger between her thighs.

It's all moving so quickly. She has no complaints. It hardly feels like they just met mere moments ago. Everything feels right when he backs her up against the nearby wall. She lets his strong arms press her against the cold stone near one of the many bookcases and simply arches her back into the pleasure of being touched. That moan enters his mouth and she gets one right back. That someone of such mysterious nature and power alike can enjoy her body is a special kind of flattering. He's very thorough. Whether it be stroking down the sides of her neck and shoulders, running his fingers down her arms, or more blatantly squeezing her plump bust and rubbing along the swell of her hips to grip her butt, he treats her with the utmost of desire, and has it reflected right back at him. Something about him, just something, makes her utterly drench herself with the heat and wetness of her own lust, pouring juices down the inside her thighs with the same excess she might display in the midst of a vicious climax. All that from a few touches and kisses while she basks in his scent and taste.

She needs him inside her. His presence intoxicates her. It seizes control of her urges and demands she satisfy her every inner need. Is she truly even an adventurer anymore? Or has she always been just a horny cat, thirsting for the nearest knot? He lifts her with ease. For as thick as her thighs might be, they offer no trouble to the dobie's strength. She's flexible enough to let him push her knees right up near her ears. That leaves her exposed to him, trembling, clenching, dripping. She breathes the scent of her own lust and finds herself doubly intoxicated, until she can do little more than whimper. Her lower lip quivers with the supreme desire radiating through her. She clutches him by the shoulders at first, then traces her claws down his back. He doesn't flinch even when she scratches harshly, at the end of her patient, yowling with how ready for him she is. The circumstances don't matter anymore. She hardly remembers how she got there. The moment is everything to her, and the desires she feels for as long as it lasts.

The sinking sensation of the demon's cock pressing into her pussy is one that brings her immediate relief. It's as if she was burning up and he doused her with cold water. But there's nothing chilly about their coupling. She sweats with him as he squishes his muscles against her curves, utterly pinning her there to the wall, all folded up and stretched for the perfect angle to penetrate. She thinks she shrieks but nothing actually escapes her throat but silence. That open mouth is the perfect place for him to plant another kiss, shoving his tongue deep inside her while he buries his cock inside her sex until his knot kisses her folds. From there, pumping, grinding, teasing motions get her all warmed up for the sex to come. She hardly thinks of it as getting fucked by a demon. He might be exceptionally strong and forward too, but to her, he's no more than a handsome dog who happens to know exactly what she wants, better even than she does herself. That he's so quick to accelerate to a rutting pace just proves that.

He grunts, even snarls a little while he thumps her deep with his thick shaft. She swears it fits her just right, tingling at all her tender places, tending to all her contours, leaving her absolutely trembling with pleasure while he pumps between her thighs. She closes her eyes and lets him take her. There's nothing she needs to contribute. He can do all the work of powerfully mating her up against the wall of that dark ritual chamber, until her rumbles are little more than mewls. She slowly wraps her thighs around his waist and gives a firm squeeze as if to keep him from getting away. That's clearly the last thing on his mind while he pounds her slightly numb, makes her toes curl, her tail twitch. She flattens her ears and pulls back from the kiss so she can give some breathy huffs and whine her way to the first orgasm. The pounding of his shaft, the slap of his fat nuts, the enduring strength he uses to keep her there, it all adds up to the cat going off before she's even ready. A cock like that is enough to make her climax after a mere minute of thrusting. Or has it already been so much longer than that?

Such calculations are irrelevant when she's busy cumming her brains out. It's enough to make a delicate one lose their mind, but Mahiri is more resilient than that. Just because she's giggly madly by the time he shoots his seed straight inside her bare pussy doesn't mean a thing. It's an odd sight and she knows it, but she can think of no better reaction to getting filled with that depraved creature's cum. He grins at her while he watches her face twist and scrunch with the convulsions of an inelegant orgasm, and stuffs her full of spunk until there comes a river down each of her thighs. The strands stretch from her fur and snap off to splash below while he finishes up within her, balls clenching to a close, then sagging down, just as heavy as ever. He's still stiff, still warm, still ever so ready to fuck that roguish cat stupid, but he's kind enough to grant her a breather. A short one.

She gasps for those fleeting seconds before he pulls her from the wall and clutches her close, supporting her full weight against him. When she looks into his eyes she watches the crimson spread across them. They gloss over with that wicked hue, gone featureless as his true nature reveals itself, bit by bit. His fangs extend into sabreteeth, stretching past his lips while he continues to offer his grin. He gets broader, more bulky. His cute doberman markings blot out to pure blackness until he's like a void before her. And when those transformations cease, he licks across his teeth with a split tongue that slurps two places at once. Then it's her turn for licks. A few sloppy doggish strokes across her features are as canine as ever, even with his changes. He's still a dog, even while his demon starts showing. There's no better way to prove that than to bring her down to the floor and turn her around so he can show her some proper doggy style.

As much as she tries to hold herself up and maintain her balance, she soon finds her arms collapsing beneath her when he mounts up behind her. She can still hear him changing, even if she can't see it anymore. Something concerningly squelches while he gets into position to take her from behind. She doesn't look back. Let that all be a surprise for her, she tells herself. Even the slithering touch of a dark tentacle crawling along her spine doesn't do a thing to change her mind on that. She sucks the succulent juices from it when it firmly plunges past her lips, happy to accommodate any depraved desire when her reward is so very pleasurable. His cock isn't quite so smooth as before. She can feel ridges and even some soft spikes like those of a dragon's dick stimulating her while he grinds along her pussy lips and smears precum across her asscheeks. Jizz streams down from her sex while he seemingly ponders his approach, right up to the moment he starts grinding against her tight rim and pushing past the resistance so he can fuck her in the ass.

That's something she always enjoys, but this is even better. She feels every bit as sensitive getting her rump stuffed full of dick as if he was taking her pussy a second time. A firm clench becomes a slow, constant kneading while he slips those stimulating ridges inside her and leaves her giving some muffled wails around that tentacle. The pleasure changes her. She feels it from the very first thrust. His knot thumps against her butt and jiggles her whole body, leaving her acutely aware of the extra heft he's fucking onto her figure. Nimbleness be damned. She's getting thicker every time he humps her, shapely as a succubus, juicier and softer for his nut-spanking pleasure. Her fangs are getting longer too. She licks across them and finds the newly forked tip of her tongue is extra flexible for such purposes. And when she starts bellowing and shrieking, it's like a dozen voices rise up from inside her throat to join her.

A sudden tug from behind wrenches her head back, but he's not clutching her hair. No, those are the curved ram's horns growing from her skull that he's making her aware of with his dominant grasp. He smacks that knot into her ass until he starts making some progress getting it fully inside her. Stretching her out like that ought to be far more than she can handle, but her body isn't the same anymore. Not when every thrust corrupts her a little deeper. Demon seed stirs within her stuffed womb, filling her minds with lusty thoughts even while she's being fucked. Once the thickening has seemingly completed, she finds her strength renewed. Planting her hands down, she raises her head back up, arches her spine, and sends a fierce roar echoing through the darkness while he jams that flexing knot right up past her tight rim and deep into her belly. It bulges out beneath the white fur while his cock stretches her deep. She has no problem taking it thanks to the power he gifts to her.

"There we are." His voice echoes around the room as if he's darting from place to place to speak each word. "A little more, and you'll be the dark thing you were always meant to be."

A toss of her crimson hair, grown longer, silkier with his corruption, goes along with the mrawling sound of her approval. She pumps down on his knotted dick as hard as she can and sets herself off with a sudden convulsion of an anal orgasm. That shakes her resolve, but it doesn't break her. She spurts her juices across the ancient symbol on the floor and leaves it faintly glowing as they taint the chamber with their sin. With a snort, a grunt, and finally a demonic growl that no regular canine could ever make, he cums in her until the warmth sags her belly down. She stretches and rounds out and bloats with his impressive potency. She swears she can taste it by the time his nuts finish pumping. A lick of her lips with her new black tongue and she can only rumble in excitement, knowing all that is laid out before her. So many opportunities, so many pleasures, and he's opened her eyes to them at last. The only thing left is to actually look directly at him after the changes have taken hold.

Twisting on his knot, she wraps her thighs around his waist and gazes up at his infernal self in all its glory. Perhaps it is his true form, perhaps simply a semblance of it, but either way he challenges her ability to simply perceive him. She can see every side of him, towering and eldritch, twisted off into a tentacled mass while his skull wears an infinite smile. It takes her some time to truly understand what she is looking at. Not just a demonic dog, not a mere hellhound brute, but a conceptual creature, a being who transcends her simple ideas of time, of space, of what it is to be a person. He stretches off into the void, touching timelines she's never even experienced herself, or at least not yet. Perhaps she still will. There remains a vague resemblance of a canine, almost a mockery, his torso attached to his lower body by a hundred writhing tentacles. Black drool drips down from a maw that seems to stretch on into forever, a smile of unending teeth gleaming before her, leaving her admiring every fang in turn. She'll never run out if she keeps going, but shuddering horror and gleeful madness break her concentration in time.

It is not his form itself that drives her to madness. When she looks upon his unveiled self, she sees the world as he does. Pulled back, stripped down, two tiny figures upon a ball, floating in nothing. Then she goes even farther than that. Through the void, through the empty, and onto the written page. She sees her thoughts spelled out one by one. She sees this. She sees you. The notion of being reduced to little more than the whim of an author, her fate in the hands of a lustful reader ought to induce some form of terrible dread, but it does little more than leave her laughing. The story says she is to lose herself here. Who is she to object when there is so much fun to be had? None of it's truly real. It never was. Her story goes on for as long as an all-powerful entity wishes to tell it. And with that there comes true freedom at least.

She falls onto her back as she descends into the ecstasy that comes with her newfound liberation from normality. It is orgasmic. A clenching rush of pleasure and juices alike leaves her mrawling her way through her fall from sanity. The winding tendrils of fate shall guide her on a path of most indulgence, dictated by an embodiment of lust. No rules. No consequences. When the only thing that's real to her anymore is the pleasure she derives from carnal acts, she knows what she's to live for. She shall go forth in Tristan's name and spread his darkness in the pursuit of ecstasy. She shall be worthy of worship, gliding through many hands. Lifted from the burden of existing in a true, coherent world, she thrives on one simple, driving fact:

She can do anything she wants.

[Continues to "Mahiri vs Snow."]

Mahiri vs Snow

For SnowCheetah

Horns. Fangs. Claws. Thicker. Softer. Lustier.

The leopard isn't doing a damn thing to hide her newly demonic nature, and that's exactly how she likes it. Newly corrupted and looking to spread her darkness to others, she heads right back the way she came in pursuit of a proper victim. Nevermind the adventure. She wants nothing more than to inflict herself upon an unwary mortal. The only question is who she ought to pick. Scanning her recent memory for possible victims, she can think of one particularly pretty face. The cheetah seemed awfully forthcoming about that tip he gave her, and she was ambushed a short time later. Seems to her like she owes him a little reprisal.

Snow is just cleaning up after closing when she approaches his door in the middle of the night. Even the most devoted drunkards have departed by now. The moon is full. Her power surges. If she's going to be a proper demoness, then she needs to have a good sense of drama. Rather than burst in and ambush that unsuspecting cat the way she wants to, she instead introduces herself with three firm knocks on his door. Then she waits. Her rosettes shine in the ghostly moonlight, glimmering unnaturally. A slow sway of her tail and a scratch of her toe claws on his front step help her deal with the desires burning inside her. She wants nothing more than to share that body with him, to show him pleasure like her new master showed her.

It takes longer than she can stand for him to answer. She's writhing on the spot by the time he peers out at her. She leans down near where a slot slides open for him to look at her in safety so that all he can see is her eyes.

"Who's there? Is that ... Mahiri?"

She can hear the nervousness in his voice. That's the sound of someone guilty, someone who didn't expect to see her again. Why might that be, exactly? Oh, she has so many questions for him, but she'll wait until she's revealed herself in all her newfound glory first.

"Where have you been? I was worried that maybe ..."

As far as she knows, it's only been a few hours since she first crawled down into that hidden basement, but he speaks as if it's been days, months even. Come to think of it, weren't the trees lively and green when she began her journey? The autumnal hues hint that her perception of time is hardly what it used to be. That doesn't matter. Not when she's clenching and heated between the thighs, not when her corrupted body demands release before all other considerations. She speaks three firm words, a compelling command if she's ever heard one.

"Let me in."

The cheetah stammers. "R-right, of course! Let me just get the locks and ..."

She smirks to herself, pleased that she can so easily manipulate him. A few clicks and clacks later, and he swings the door wide open to lay eyes on her naked form. He immediately stares, gasps, even recoils from her in apparent fright. For every step back he takes, she takes another forward, backing him into his own tavern until he's leaning right against the bar. The girly cat doesn't say a word for a good long while, and she's content to simply loom over him. Broader, softer, heavier, taller - she's so much more than him, and he can plainly see that. When he speaks again, it's in a tiny murmur.

"Mahiri ... you're different ..."

That's enough to drive her to wicked laughter. She makes a display of cackling before him, which gives him a fine look at her fangs and forked tongue alike. He doesn't move. She knows she has him. He's all caught up in her presence, left to shudder in his breeches, left with lip quivering and horror in his shiny eyes. A lick across her lips leaves him following the movement of her tongue all the way. Her lips and fangs alike glisten. She's almost drooling for him. But rather than provide him any sort of explanation, she instead drops her voice into an imposing rumble and booms at him as only a demoness can.

"Surprised to see me?"

"Well, yes, and ... well, it's been so long, and the way you look ..." He summons up a brief burst of bravery to call her out on the obvious corruption. "What have you done?"

Her smile is hardly kind, more a threat than anything. She tips her head to the side.

"What's the matter? Don't you like it? You tried to sell me out, but instead I found out what I can really do. What I was always meant to do."

"Sold you - no! I didn't tell anyone where you were! I swear it!"

"A little ambush tells me differently. But don't worry. He's been dealt with."

The cheetah shudders again. In truth, she's not sure if he actually betrayed her or not. But that doesn't mean she can't act like he did. It's all up to her. She can do anything she wants with him. Perhaps she ought to show him exactly what happens to those who defy her. Or on the other hand, she can always use that new, enhanced body of hers to charm and entice him. Whatever her greediest urge might be, she is free to fulfill it, no matter what the cheetah might think.

What should she do?

[Punish him]

[Seduce him]

Chapter 4, Branch 1

[Continues from "Punish him."]

"Betrayal is a grave sin, Snow. One of the worst ones."

She reaches up to snatch him by the collar. He doesn't fight her, simply staring into her eyes, rarely blinking. She carries on in a low growl, projecting the sound right into the poor cheetah's bones.

"You want to know what the punishment is?"

In truth, she's making it up as she goes. She doesn't know that the rules of demonhood might be. The whole point is that there aren't any, right? She stares him down a little longer, just to see him squirm. Only once he's sufficiently paralyzed by her wrathful gaze does she strike.

"Ah, no, Mahiri, don't ...!"

The panicked cries of the helpless mortal cat do little to dissuade her. Along with the release of her physical limits, she no longer feels restrained by any of her old morality. She bites. She claws. None of it especially hurts him, but it does allow her to latch onto his loose scruff in a tight, dominant chomp. Her fangs lock around the back of his neck, and it's that grip that she uses to drag him off into the shadows. Now he's struggling. Fear gives him strength enough to shove and kick at her, but where those blows might have given her old self pause, her corruption ensures she doesn't even flinch while she forcibly brings her prey to one of the empty bedrooms.

It's all made up and pristine, ready for a paying occupant. She turns the scene to chaos in a moment while she hauls in her thrashing catch. He flops about like a fish in the midst of his panic. She hasn't even told him what she's going to do to him. But it's probably evident enough that it won't end well for him. He kicks until he knocks over a bedside table, then cracks a nearby mirror with the sheer force of his struggles. None of it prevents her from getting him onto the bed with her significant body weight planted firmly atop him. She makes a blanket of herself for a minute or two, dominantly purr-growling, rubbing her naked body against his layers of clothing. And, in that possessive position, she finds it ever so easy to simply think about the changes she wants to make to herself, and have them happen. Her flesh obeys her will.

A fat, shiny cock is much better suited to her current mood than a pussy. She swaps them out as easily as blinking. If there are any in-between stages, she doesn't notice them. One moment she is wet and tender, the next she is rigid, solid, flexing and leaking a thick bead of precum onto his top. That light layer of sexual fluid sinks into his clothing, giving him his first sample of her marking scent. Her fragrance is pure sin and temptation, to the point that Snow can't resist getting a little turned on for her even while he whimpers with fright. She humps him a few times just in case he's somehow missed the sudden change. The more she grinds, the more of a mess she makes out of his modest outfit, but that won't do at all.

He's almost calmed down after she's rumbled atop him for long enough. Those vibrations are always therapeutic, even when she's forcing them upon him. She's just going to have to get him squirming again with a vicious application of her claws. Agility and dexterity have always been her two strongest traits, along with the cunning of course, but even she couldn't have been so precise with those deadly blades of hers when she was still mostly uncorrupted. She applies her claws to his clothing without ever piercing his skin. It's a terrifying but carefully controlled assault that leaves shreds of fabric fluttering down to the floor around the bed. She's a gift to him, and she'll unwrap him whenever she likes. When he's mostly naked, but for the scraps clinging to his wrists and ankles like shackles, he can only blush at the reveal of his own solid shaft. She's quick to make a comparison.

"You always were so cute, bending over the bar, swishing that spotty tail. Oh, and those chirps. They make me want to do so many things to you, Snow."

She speaks in a low, sultry tone, bassier than anything she's ever managed with her voice before. Slowly frotting against his shaft, she lets him see just how much bigger hers is than his. That glossy black spire makes his pink dick look modest, even while he throbs at the height of desire for her. There's still fear in his eyes, no matter how horny she's made him. She moves close and breathes in his face, revelling in the way her presence completely overtakes him. He's all hers to do with as she pleases. She's content to take her time right up to the moment something feral ignites within her. Being a corrupted succubus of a cat just means she's even more prone to following her urges when they come.

With a lunge and flash of fangs, she locks into a kiss with the cheetah and shoves her forked tonight straight down his throat. He grasps at her head as if to tug her away, but he's simply not strong enough. She takes him. Clutching, squeezing, grasping him by the hips, she forces his flexible feline body to take the positions he wants. A smooth glide of her cock down along his balls leaves him streaked with precum. She paints his taint with those thick spurts of needy demon lust, and then she prods his tight kitty rim. A sharp breath precedes him clenching his teeth, but it's not out of discomfort. She licks the inside of his mouth with her devilishly flexible tongue while he adjusts and calms himself. With every little prod she can feel his resistance weakening, and not just the physical sort. He's breaking for her, just the way she wants him to.

"Nnnnnh, Mahirrrrri ..."

The cheetah's whimpers and purrs operate as one, projected into her open mouth while she sucks his muzzle. It's a very sloppy semblance of a kiss. She only squeezes more shaky noises out of him as she smoothly penetrates him. When she breaks from the kiss to snarl, he gives her an extended whine in return. His eyes are shut tight. Deeper she goes. She stuffs him full of wet cat cock until she bottoms out. His belly slightly bulges with the size of her. When she brings his legs up to her waist, she doesn't even need to command him to wrap them around her. He squeezes with the desperate need for the pleasures only she can give. A lick of his face, a nibble of his neck, and she locks into place with that cheetah all bent up into a flexible mating press. It's the perfect position for lifting her ass up high and starting to roughly pound him with demonic force, to show him what she can do, to demolish his mortal shell with their sinful courtship.

The creaking of the bed and the thump of the frame crashing into the wall adds variety to the cacophony of feline sounds while the corrupted leopard fucks that cheetah right there in his own tavern. She's honestly forgotten this is all supposed to be some sort of punishment. All she cares about is driving the ecstasy into that tight cheetah boy booty, fucking that fine ass until Snow can't even feel his legs. She's not gentle. She doesn't tire. Energy unlike anything she's ever experienced empowers her every thrust, ensuring she keeps her pace as swift as it is rough, smacking her plump nuts against the cheetah's spots while he squeaks and chirps and mewls for her like the defeated kitten that he is. When he doesn't make enough noise for her liking between thrusts, she gives him a nip on the shoulder or neck with those fearsome fangs of hers, just to ensure he whimpers the way she loves to hear while she ruts him deep.

Their bodies shake and jiggle while they writhe together in growing ecstasy. It's a blur of thrusts and thumps, of near mechanical motion that keeps her cock plunging in and out of the wiggling cheetah. He faintly clings to her, but mostly he's just along for the ride. She grinds him to a peak, pressing firm against his inner pleasure button, sending shocks and tingles up it in a modest display of demonic power. It's just enough to add that much more stimulation to her every single stroke, to bring him to a toe-clenching, eye-rolling, tongue-flopping peak in mere minutes beneath her. Or has it been longer? She doesn't care about the world around them both when all that matters in her corrupted mind is making that cute cat cum his brains out all because of her.

"I'm ..."

That's all he manages to get out before he breaks into a wail of slightly frightened delight. He clenches hard, but she doesn't let that stop her. In one smooth, sudden movement, she pulls from his depths and instead grabs his cock and hers alike to squeeze them together in those final explosive moments. The frantic stroking slide up and down their collective inches ensures their bodies sync up in forbidden pleasure. Snow is all bent in two, with his shaft and hers alike pointed straight at his face. He keeps his mouth wide open for the impending release. His outstretched tongue wiggles eagerly, all but desperate for everything she can give him. The taut pressure in her nuts brings the flood forth.

In an instant, the cheetah is concealed beneath the layers of creamy spunk pouring over his face. Plenty of it splats down on his tongue, or shoots straight into his mouth and throat, while the rest pours across his features like an overturned bucket. The leopard's cum is as thick as it is potent. Snow manages to keep up with her for the first few spurts, but he's soon dry-firing while she drowns him in her seed. He swallows what he can. The rest pours down his cheeks, or soaks into his chest and splayed hair. Plenty more puddles on the sheets around his head, then sinks into the mattress. The whole room smells like feline sex and something more sinister than that, something indescribably tempting, something that ensures Snow is just as hard as ever even after emptying his nuts for his new mistress. Yes, she likes the sound of that title in her head. Now she just has to show him why she's earned it.

Nobody could possibly fault him for screaming when he sees her coming at him, teeth bared. She pounces and wrestles with him, biting and clawing without ever drawing blood. Toying with him, truly. He ends up on his face once she's wrenched him around enough, pinned beneath her with her cock plapped firmly on his lower back. A curl of fingers in his pretty locks lets her harshly tug his head back with her grip on his hair. The other hand goes to his tail. Yanking on that really makes him chirp. He drools her excess spunk while she mounts him and grinds on his spotty butt. A few humps are enough to assert her dominance. It's not long before she has him mewling. Maybe for how roughly she's handling him, or maybe he's just feeling extra needy with that leopardess growling in his ear and streaking sex across his fur.

"You don't think I'm done with you yet, do you?"

She releases his tail so she can bring her palm down hard one one of those fine spotty cheeks. The spank rings out louder than Snow's own yelp.

"An ass like that deserves a thick load of demon seed. I'm so pent up for you even still."

With her lips pressed right to the inside of his ear, her rumbles rattle his skull. It's strangely not unpleasant. Then she gives a lick, dragging her tongue down to the nape of his neck where she plants her teeth firmly. He's going to be her leopardess for a while, in a manner of speaking. She locks him in that mating bite and pushes her glossy cock between his cheeks. He doesn't flinch. Her first fuck loosened him up nicely for more. Though he's still just as tight as ever, eagerly kneading around her first inch as she enters him. Deeper and deeper still she goes, burying herself fully in his cute butt, bottoming out with a nice hard thump of her balls to his own. She grinds for a while, gets her grip back where it was, and yanks his sensitive locks and tail alike to get him yowling like the fuckable girly cat he is before she gets started.

It's hard to tell at first if it's the bed or the cheetah squeaking once she starts working her hips and pounding that fine ass in long, lunging strokes. She uses her whole body, and all that demonic strength hidden beneath her fine curves to fuck the cheetah until he's gripping the sheets and quivering beneath her. That's just her opening act. She soon nestles into him and keeps herself utterly buried inside his spotty body while she rapidly hammers down in manic, pounding thrusts. Then it's back to longer ones, pulling nearly out of him and plunging back in so he can feel that bulge of feline cock sliding up and down the sheets beneath his belly. He can hardly follow such a chaotic rhythm. Snow doesn't bother trying to roll his hips along with her, but instead just grips the bed and does his best to hold onto his own mind while he gets so smoothly, wetly fucked by that shiny cock. It fits him perfectly, it presses him in all the places he needs most, stimulating all his nerves, all his pleasure centres, until he feels as if she's fucking his whole self at once.

"It ... it feels so good ... it's too ..."

Too much? Too big? Too hard? He doesn't get it out and she doesn't stop. Not that she would even if he begs her. She's locked in vicious dominance, gnawing her new pet while she fucks his pretty ass all she likes. There's plenty of mess spurting from her cock already. She fills him with her preseed until he's already feeling weighed down. Those hot, rich juices leave him sweltering. He pants when he's not just whimpering like a good little spotty bitch. Her bites keep him docile. Something about fangs on his scruff just subdues him, keeps him from even wriggling too much. It's a commanding gesture that ensures he stays right where she wants him, and offers his mortal body for her depraved pleasure. By the constant clenching on her cock, he badly needed a good, rough rut like the one she's giving him.

She doesn't bother speaking anymore. Her snarl is command enough. She wants him to cum, and she's going to get what she wants. To ensure that, she draws back and gives one last powerful lunge, followed by a dozen ultra-speed thrusts that quake through the cheetah's form until he screams for her. It's more of a scared sound than anything. He's startled by his own pleasure leaping out at him like that. It makes him curl his claws into the mattress and slice the thin sheets, but otherwise he can't do more than cry out while she makes him cum his thoughts away. A flood of spunk shoots up over his underside, spraying all over himself, a constant eruption bigger than the first. The cat just bottoms out and confidently pumps her cream inside him until his belly starts swelling and stretching. He'd clutch at it if he could move much, but he's just going to have to be content slowly raising his ass up higher and higher to give that expanding cumgut room to wobble and slosh. He still has the taste of her jizz in his mouth, and soon he has that radiant warmth of being a demon cat's cumdump by the time she's done unloading her flexing, lifting nuts in his spotty rump.

He barely gets a chance to enjoy the afterglow. There he is, drooling and panting on the bed, utterly broken by pleasure, and she cruelly rouses him from his stupor by suddenly pulling out. She leaves him gaping, dripping, an outpouring of excess cum running down his taint and balls. Yet she still isn't soft. What else can she possibly do to him? She reaches down to grope his backside with both hands for a short time, kneading the cheeks, squeezing them together, and finishes off that tease with a solid smack that gets a shaky gasp from him and nothing more. Then she chuckles to herself as she straightens up. He can tell she's stroking her sex-slick cock without even looking back at her, just by the sound.

"What a good boy, helping drain your mistress like that. Now you can help her fill her nuts back up."

She delivers such a statement so casually, and he's left wondering what exactly it means. Squinting his eyes, he slowly turns over once he's able. His body doesn't exactly ache, but his muscles are greatly fatigued just from enduring so much pleasure, as passive as his role in it might have been. He needs to blink a few times to get his vision clear. Then he blinks some more, just trying to determine if he's seeing what he thinks he is. That cock is so much bigger now. In those short moments he spent sprawled out and recovering from her savage fuck, she's grown it to what must be five times its original size. It rises up like a spire, tall enough to reach her face, thick enough it doesn't even fit between her tits. She squishes it against her bust instead, slowly stroking up and down the slick surface. If she expects to get that inside him, he's going to have to object, but he knows he's too weak to fight her. She grins at him, and it's not a friendly smile. She's all fangs.

Just seeing that is enough to make him cower away from her. Backing up against the bed frame doesn't do him much good. There's nowhere for him to go, and she knows it. She reaches for him, and catches him by both wrists. He's stronger than he looks, but it's not enough to compete with her. She's something else now. Hardly the cat he once knew, who relied on stealth and trickery to avoid a stand up fight. Now she's unstoppable. And she wants him closer. With a frightened whimper, he goes right along with her insistence until his muzzle smacks right into the broad, yawning cumslit of that oversized cock. She jabs it in his face a few times, humping, smearing him up in juices while he tries not to pass right out from the overwhelming dose of musk and pheromones alike. He tries to tug back, but a schlurping squeeze of that slit around his muzzle keeps him stuck in place. It squelches, it hugs, it kneads, and in time it starts to tug him deeper. He's far too muffled to make much sound when he realizes the horror of the situation he's in.

Mahiri simply moans out loud while she starts consuming the cheetah with her cock. It comes naturally to her. She glimpsed such a thing happening to her when time opened up before her eyes, when her corruption truly started. That means it's easy to devour the cute cat down to his fluffy chest without even thinking about it. Only when she gets to his cum-bloated belly does she pause. That takes a little extra squeezing. She doesn't stuff him in or even lay her hands on him at all while she sucks him down. Her dick does all the work for her. All she has to do is keep stroking it, and teasing the bulge of Snow's frightened face while she's at it, and she can easily devour him even when it means squishing some of the jizz out thanks to all the extra pressure on his belly. His legs scramble against the bed, trying to find purchase to properly pull back and escape her, but nothing can overpower her lustful hunger. He's diving down to her balls no matter how much he struggles with her.

One long sigh goes with her tugging him right off his feet. His paws sway through the air in one last desperate struggle, but gravity is on her side. He plummets. If not for those commanding inner squeezes, he'd be freefalling down her dick. Not much longer, and she's tucking the last of him away, swallowing him down into her sack, letting the tightly outlined bulge beneath her ebon skin descend into her creamy white balls. There's plenty of cum awaiting him. He dunks down beneath the surface and doesn't come back up for a while. The sensation of drowning in demon seed is enough to make him panic, make him desperately thrash around inside her in fright, but it doesn't prevent her from finishing her meal, of sorts. A schlip of his tail tip vanishing into the leaking slit and he's gone, all tucked away within her balls, utterly drenched in her scent and half-cooked in the heat of her nuts. They squeeze him, churn him, audibly gurgle with a strange sort of digestion process, ensuring he can't rest for a moment.

It's already working. She presses both hands down on the swell of cheetah in her balls and squishes into his rapidly softening form. His response is to smack his palms against the walls as if a show of terror might dissuade her from churning him to spunk. All it does is make her purr. She plays with her softening cheetah toy while he turns to thick, creamy goo within her balls. His melting form is different from the rest of the jizz around him. It's even more viscous, even richer. The strangest part is the pleasure. She makes him hard with the nerve impulses surging right through him, makes him quiver and even moan while arms give way and he collapses into the growing load. He can't keep his head up any longer, but that's alright. A few more firm inwards clenches will take care of him. She softens him and she assimilates him, inundating his every spot, his every orifice with her pure, freshly made demon cum. It's everything he is, everything he'll ever be - and not in the way he thinks.

When he's gone beneath the surface for long enough, no longer visible from the outside with her fattened nuts going taut and smooth, there comes a rising glow. His soul manages to fight its way to the surface of the spunk load, only to find itself trapped within her balls like the rest of him. Every time she squeezes inwards, she makes the light flicker, milking a ghostly wail out of him as his essence is diminished. What starts as just a faint dark spot on the surface of her sack, contrasting her white fur slowly forms into a much more distinct picture of the former cheetah until there's a visible tattoo-like portrait of his lust-dumb face right there on her right nut. The final touches of that trophy settle into place all on their own while she diminishes that eternal soul to nothingness. It's captive on her body, a prisoner of her malleable demonic flesh. Even when she goes back down to normal size, she'll still carry it with her, to do with as she pleases.

All that remains is the spunk he's become. He can feel it. After enough churning, there comes a stirring in her balls. It rumbles as he rises up from the jizz bath, seemingly drenched in her cum at first. But that's not it. He's still in the shape of a cheetah, but there's nothing left of his original body anymore. He's entirely cum now, transformed to the core, a living load in solid form. He can move, sloshing around in her seed, pressing on the walls, but the fear and urge to escape is gone. That's where he belongs now. His gooey expression is one of stupefaction thanks to the constant bombardment of pleasure that comes with being her animated jizz. She reaches down to give a firm stroke along that tattoo that she's made of his soul, and the pleasure courses through both aspects of his being. The imprisoned essence, and the transformed body.

Lustfully dwelling down in her balls, he feels only devotion and need. So does she. She squeezes the base of her massive cock, she licks the tip, but she doesn't stroke it yet. Instead, she just gives a soft smile, and speaks to the sloshing captive in her nuts. She knows he can hear her.

"Good boy. It feels good, doesn't it? A little idea I had. Maybe I'll even let you out sometime - but for now, you're going to stay down there and fuel my urges." Villainously stroking her chin, she finds herself stricken by a thought. "Perhaps you can even help me churn the next one. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The broken cheetah can't give her an answer. She likes it that way. Let him be her mindless servant, for as long as she wishes to keep him. A lick of her lips and she rises, hefting that behemoth of a cock right along with her. Why should she shrink it back down? That soft cat felt so good sliding down it. She wants more, wants to keep feeding that hungering shaft, and she knows no mere mortal can stop her. Her lust and hunger shall haunt the world, and Snow's going to be right there along for the ride to appreciate it.

THE END

Chapter 4, Branch 2

[Continues from "Seduce him."]

She sees that gaze. Even amid his fear, the cheetah can't help but look upon the impossible curves of the demonified feline before him. She knows how much he wants her, even if he isn't ready to admit it yet. A lick across her lips is just the start. She makes sure he can see every one of those fangs. They might be intimidating, but they're part of what makes her so enticing. Then it's time to slowly stroke down along the shape of her curves, much like her corrupter did to her. She highlights everything that is desirable about her new body while projecting purrs so potent they could break glass if applied too closely. She can already hear the goblets rattling behind the bar. If she rumbles any harder she's going to take the windows out of that place.

"Don't worry," she assures the cheetah in a faux-kindly voice. "I'm not mad at you. I should be thanking you for helping guide me down my new path."

"I didn't ... I just ... it was only a tip," the cheetah tries to say, leaning over his own bar as the fangy leopardess approaches.

"Oh, you're going to give me a lot more than that," she teases.

There's nowhere for him to go. She backs him into a corner and presses her body up against him to share those devilishly powerful purrs. There's really no choice but for him to purr right back. It might be an automatic response from having a fellow feline grinding on him, but it pleases her nonetheless. She shows him exactly how much she likes that with an imposing display of her teeth, licking from one to another until she's made herself start drooling on him. He remains frozen, flinching when she gets too close to his face, but not fighting her. With her body applied against his, she can feel his every little twitch, his every reaction. She knows her efforts are fruitful when she feels the swelling bulge pressed to her belly. He can't hold back such a natural response to a creature like her.

The finishing blow is the kiss she lays upon his throat. Except it's more like a nibble, given she's still getting used to how long and sharp her teeth are. Snow doesn't fight her. He tips his head back and lets those fangs press against such a delicate place. Full access, no matter how dangerous she might be in her new form. From there it's simply a matter of intertwining her fingers with his, and guiding him off towards one of the back rooms. The tavern beds are thankfully unoccupied this evening. That's good. She's going to need all the privacy she can possibly get to make proper use of his cute, mortal body. She needs to discover her own limits as much as his.

"Mahiri ..." he begins, but he trails off for a while. It's not until she's pushed him down onto the edge of that sturdy bed that he manages to finish. "Is it still really you?"

She snickers at him. The way her voice crackles and distorts when she laughs brings her such pleasure. "Of course it is. I'm still here, still in my own mind. I'm just better now."

"You're very pretty ... scary too ..."

She lunges in suddenly, fangs flashing, but she doesn't give him any more than a lick on the forehead. It's still enough to startle him.

"Don't be scared, cutie. I'm here for your pleasure. I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to show you things you never knew were possible."

Snow's meek nod of reply only endears him further to her. She crouches low so that he can see the pounce coming, and throws herself atop him with considerable force. Of course, she's careful and precise about it to avoid hurting her dear prize. He chirps as she pins him down beneath her naked curves, Those clothes of his are such a burden. Rubbing against his bulge feels good enough, but she's not content with that. Maybe the same trick Tristan showed her will work if she just concentrates enough. She squints at the cheetah and imagines him naked. Thunder crackles outside the bedroom window, as if on queue. Did she summon that? Or was that just a coincidence? She doesn't even remember it raining when she showed up at his door, but the storm makes for a suitable backdrop to her first real display of demonic power.

When he realizes what's happening to his tidy little outfit he just gives a confused little mew. His clothes aren't just falling off of him, they're outright melting. They liquefy upon his body and then stream right over the edges of the bed and out of sight, leaving nothing in their wake. No marks, no stains, no sign that they ever existed. She's made a physical object puff into smoke like it was nothing. How much more can she do? Rain pounds the roof of the humble tavern now as she climbs over top of the newly naked cheetah. His cock stands up tall and trembly even while he remains passive, awaiting her first move. Another shudder of laughter comes over her then. It's just as she thought before. She truly can do anything she wants, and she knows he'll be eager to come along for the ride.

Even with his shaft standing firm and ready, she doesn't so much as touch it just yet. The heat that hits her all at once tells her exactly what she needs to do. She already lusted for him long before she was even a demoness, but the desire she feels now is far beyond anything she ever experienced as a mortal. She wants all of him. Everything she can take. And there's no greater expression of her own greed than slowly sliding across his lean, spotty body and making a throne of his curious, nervous face. She presses her knees down to the bed and envelops him in her thighs, all wrapped up and snug so his muzzle plants directly against her pussy. His first huff of a gasp surely inundates him with a scent so much sweeter than ever before. She's happy to let him sniff the sin right from her slathered, soaking sex.

Of course, she's not going to be patient for long. A firm thrust of her hips force plaps her pussy against his muzzle, forcing a smooch of sorts while he faintly clings to her hips. She's in full control of every motion but for the slathers of his tongue, grinding on him while he obediently eats her out. The first few licks are slightly tentative, but after that it's a full sloppy makeout session. He shoves inside her and shows how willing he is to serve with those scritchy-tongued plunges in and out. A proper feline tonguefuck might be too much for regular, mortal women to take. Mahiri welcomes that intense stimulation with some deep rumbles that serve as their own reward for Snow's good service. She lets him worship her for as long as she can hold back the ache of desire. Every lick brings her that much closer to utterly losing control, to letting her instincts and corruption alike take charge. And she's only growing warmer, more heated within with the urge to breed something dark into the world.

He might stay down there forever, even if it means suffocating. She can tell. Swimming in her horny essence for long enough means she has him all to herself, suitably enraptured. Though she has no intention of harming him when she still has so many urges that still need satisfying. A sudden jolt of her hips lets her yank backwards, pulling from his face with a splat of juices. She leaves a sheen upon his face along with a drunken-looking smile. He seemingly forgets to gasp for a few seconds, looking like he might have briefly passed out. Awareness comes to him when she grasps his cock and gives it a few firm strokes and squeezes. He automatically bobs his hips along with those forceful tugs, occasionally whimpering amid his desperate panting for air. She hardly gives him a chance to catch his breath before she's snarling in his face again.

"Here's what's going to happen, pet." She puts special flirtatious emphasis on that word, only to slip back into a threatening growl. "Breed with me. Give me all your seed. Paint my demon womb. Such wicked things you'll help me spawn ..."

She trails off into a lusty hiss and throws herself at him once more. This time, her pounce is firm enough to leave her mounted over his whole body, shadowing his spots in her curves while she sinks her heated pussy down against his dick. A slow grind against his inches bathes him in the juices of her desire. His cock is soaked after a mere few rubs, slathered up and shiny while she positions herself for the plunge. There's no time to tease. She's closed off from the revelations that drove her slightly mad, no longer considering the implications but instead following her instincts, her pure impulses. They are many and they are powerful. When she finally slips down on his shaft and lets him slide smoothly into the humid embrace of the corrupted leopardess' flooded cunt. His face freezes in a submissive snarl, but he can't get a single sound out to express just how good she feels all wrapped around his rigid inches.

There's no time. There's just no time. She refuses to take it slow. Why should she bother being seductive when she's already utterly seduced her prey? She's far from a succubus and much more like a beast once she really gets going on that firm cheetah cock. The bed sags down deep with her first bounce. She puts all her weight into coming down on Snow's hips, and those curves aren't light either. They make for an ample plap of her butt atop his thighs, a self-inflicted spank of sorts while she shoves him inside her as deep as he can possibly reach. He's mashed up against her pussy lips so firmly his balls almost get pulled inside with the rest of his dick. With her hands planted on his chest, she keeps him pinned and rides him hard until the juices of their mating start to splash over his belly, and trickle down his sides. Thumping and squeaking is plenty prominent, but the true star of the rising chaos and cacophony of demon feline sex is the yowls and snarls alike coming from the cat atop him. In time, he manages to join with her, but only with some breathy mewls. Her voice is stronger, and so is the rest of her.

He can hardly move with so much strength being applied to his chest. It's hard to breathe, too. A choking sound escapes him as she presses just a little too hard, but it doesn't dissuade her. She needs that dick. She drives it into her sex over and over, lunging up and down with surprising athleticism for her soft frame. He gets to watch her jiggle and bounce while she takes everything she wants from him. It's only been a few seconds of her riding him that he's already curling his toes, already clutching and clawing at her hips with the desperate effort not to cum. Somehow he manages. Not even the schlick-schlop of that silky pussy can send him over the edge. Maybe she's helping him somehow. Or maybe she just won't let him yet. The latter possibility becomes an increasingly alarming reality the longer she dominates him. His balls are getting tighter, heavier, the pressure's building in his tense, bulging shaft, but he won't be allowed the release he needs until she tells him he can. His eyes blaze with desperation as that realization sets in a little more with every thudding bounce and grind.

Eventually he starts grasping at her, groping her not out of lust but out of sheer panic. He can't handle it anymore. The pressure, the urge to utterly erupt inside her. He can feel her clenching hard around him. The heat and scent alike tells him she's primed with demonic heat, ready to breed with him. He never imagined himself a father of demonspawn, but he doesn't care. She's caught him up in her spell well enough to make him disregard the consequences. It's only when he's on the brink of oblivion, when he's in eye-crossing, teeth-clenching need that she finally releases that apparent hold on him. All at once, she ceases her riding and just plaps down on his lap one more time. The stunning crescendo comes accompanied by a wet, clenching orgasm tightly pumping around his dick, and with that he's finally free to cum inside her while she squirts her sinful ecstasy all over his fur.

With that peak comes a roar - from her, of course. Her voice echoes out in a wave of destruction, shattering all the glasses and bottles behind the bar, a full room away. He doesn't think of the untold expenses that come with spilling all that precious drink. Breeding the demoness is his purpose now. She milks him of everything, every drop, every flex, every single fragment of pleasure she can possibly get. He cums and then he cums some more, pouring forth with his seed, rolling what feels like a dozen peaks all into one furious shot after another. It's like he hasn't had relief in weeks, or his whole life. He can barely breathe, can barely even see. The sensation of filling that wicked leopardess with his seed while she snugly resides atop him, snarling away, is the extent of his sensory input. Only when her fierce noises fall to affectionate rumbles does he have permission to relax, and the soreness sets in shortly after. The numbing of his legs, the oversensitivity of his shaft still buried within that well-bred cunt, it all ensures he's whimpering for her like a good broken little cat. But when his vision clears once more, he can see the gleam in her eyes. She's still not done with him.

"You're such a good boy. I'll have a lovely litter of spotty hellspawn now, and it's all thanks to you. I'll need plenty of milk to feed them with, of course."

In case that's not suggestive enough, she hefts and cups her breasts, squeezing deep into those two fat tits to draw him in. He quickly gets the hint. Sitting up weakly, he lets her guide him into her embrace, with his muzzle snug in her cleavage, head squished from both sides when she wraps a hug around her bosom and his body alike. He's utterly immersed, smothered in cat tits, left licking and worshipping his new mistress. He wants nothing more than to be close to her, and that's an urge they share. While he soaks in her scent and taste alike, and endures those constant, stimulating rumbles, she squeezes him harder, closer, all but suffocating him once more. Perhaps a less sturdy preything might have passed out by now. She chose well in coming to him. All it takes is a slight nudge of guidance to direct him from between her breasts and onto one of those firm, lightly milky tits. The cheetah starts to hungrily suck the moment he catches a taste of that sweet cream.

The narcotic effect of demon milk keeps him mindlessly servicing her for as long as she'll still provide that forbidden drink. She never seems to run out. Purring away atop him, she slowly pulls off his cock and presses her hands to the back of his head. It's only a short time before he slips deeper, before he pushes past the limits of mortal possibility and starts to get slurped right inside her breast. The leopard's body works however she wants it to. All she has to do is think hard about what she wants it to do, and her flesh obeys. Right now, she feels the most unusual of hunger. It might have been impossible before her corruption, but there's no denying it once that possessive grip clenches around the cheetah's trapped muzzle. She's going to feed him to her breasts.

Being so close to her chests ensures the whole process is immensely rumbly. He's immersed in her, dunked deep into the milk he so covets while she slowly absorbs his body into hers. It's only when he's buried almost up to his neck that his mortal sensibilities return to him. There's that instinctive tension through his muscles, then the tugging. He's weak, but he still manages an impressive struggle when it really sets in what's happening to him. Flopping his body weight back to try to wrench free of her is a good use of his limited strength, but it's still not going to interrupt the process. Mahiri can feel the fear running through his veins. It fuels that delicious fight in him. He's being absorbed, devoured, claimed by her curves, and she's not stopping. He can't get away now. The last few moments as himself are going to be spent struggling for his life, all in vain. Well, not entirely. It still makes her wet to feel him squirm so much. She's horny again, already craving another breeding, but she's going to need another victim. This one's going to be part of her.

"Oh, don't fuss so much, Snow. You're going to have so much fun as my tits. Besides, you wouldn't want our spawn to go hungry, would you?" She reaches down to stroke along his spine in a seemingly affectionate way even as she devours him. "Be a good boy for Mistress. I know you will."

He can't get any sort of reply back to her, not even a muffled one. He's too busy gargling the milk within her breast as he gets slurped up by that ravenous nipple. It's more of a maw once she works down her shoulders, kneading with someone like lips to help drag him inside. A horrific sight, but one seen only by her. And she's barely looking. Instead, she sits and revels in the pleasure of dominance and triumph. She's never harmed for pleasure before. It's always been a necessity. But that cheetah, he's going to be all hers, just because she wants him. It's not long that he's got his whole head inside her swelling breast and she's already absorbing him. She hasn't even fully swallowed him yet, but she's digesting him into milk and titfat alike, swelling that left breasts to tremendous size before she starts distributing that extra padding more evenly. Still, he's going to make it awfully difficult for her to wear anything form-fitting, for how plump he's making those juicy cat tits. They ravenously slosh while she approaches his middle.

His kicking gradually slows. She has him. He's fading within her bosom, absorbed and claimed for the pleasure of the demoness. It's a very specific distribution of prey-padding. She doesn't thicken anywhere else. Every single ounce of extra weight goes straight to her tits, whether as general thickness or as chest-swelling milk. Even with all that added heft, her breasts remain every bit as perky as ever, all but floating there. She refuses to let them sag in the slightest. His legs and tail faintly thrash about while she slurps him towards his milky demise, until the weakness is simply too much. He slumps and falls motionless before she's even finished consuming him. But there's still plenty more to melt.

She's not just taking his body. Her tits glow as bright as moonlight while she claims her first soul, churn by churn, slosh by slosh. It's a solid outline that can feel touch just as well as the rest of him. The strange tingles of demonic digestion pull and tug around the glowing remnants of his existence, leaving him to leak his memories, his identity down into the glowing goop below. It mingles with her milk and assimilates all into one homogeneous load of the creamy stuff with no sign of what he once was. A faintly glimmering hand reaches up from the tasty treat inside the cat's breast, fading, flickering, and finally sinks back under. He's never going to be anything but hers.

She finally slumps back onto the bed with an ecstatic sigh as she tucks his paws away and starts absorbing the last of him. His body becomes her fat. His soul becomes her milk, primed and ready to feed her impending spawn. Her womb is full of spunk, more than enough to get her bred, but she still wants more. A moan escapes through her clenched teeth when his soul gives its last ghostly gasp within the sweet, delicious contents of her tits. Snuffed out for her pleasure, and in a most unconventional way. And she's going to keep a mark there to remind herself. The creamy white fur of her bust is the perfect place for a tattoo of sorts, or perhaps a brand. The face of her digested prey appears there on her left breast as a permanent trophy to remember him by. The cheetah's visage carries a lusty expression, as if to tell all who see it that he went willingly to his end because he was so horny for her. No one will know how hard he struggled.

She gives her tits one long, deep, squeeze to really appreciate their size. They're ridiculous, excessive, swollen bigger than her head, and they slosh with even the slightest movement. Then it's time to taste the prize. It's easy to reach her own teat, and there she sucks a while to sample the milk she's made the cheetah's body into. Rich, creamy, and sure to be utterly addictive to any mortal palate, it shall certainly serve her and her wicked offspring well. But she still wants more. There are surely more easy victims out there, more meals to feed to her curves. She wants to grow, to expand, to gain power and desirability alike as she pursues her prey all across the land. Of course, for a demoness like her, seduction is power, and she shall only get more enticing the more she feeds on innocent souls like Snow.

THE END

Mahiri vs Logan

For Logan.Kincade

[Continues from "Go for a swim in the river."]

She's just going to have to swim. The other passageways might be less treacherous, but that's exactly why they're the wrong ones to pursue. Despite being a cat, she doesn't mind getting a little wet. Besides, she's long since water-warded her gear. It wasn't cheap, but she's a successful adventurer who can afford the best of enchanters with her hauls of treasure. Considering the rushing underground river for a little longer, she concludes there's really no safe way to go about this. Perhaps she ought to have brought some sort of raft, but it's too late for that. She refuses to go back.

Pulling her cloak around front to shield some of her more vulnerable accessories, she slowly lowers herself into the chilly depths and feels the pressure of the current pulling at her. It leads to the mouth of a cave, and beyond that, she can't see much. It's too dark even for her eyes. Instead, she pushes off the edge and lets the frigid water take her for a ride, carefully avoiding the edges and any protruding obstacles along the way. She's soon moving faster than she can run, splashing to keep her head above the surface. It's nothing worth panicking over. Surely the stream can't go on forever, and she can always find her way back if she hits a dead end. Though when the sound of water splashing down somewhere far below comes to her ears, maybe she starts to worry a bit.

It's not her finest moment, going over the edge of a waterfall like that. At least she knows how to fall. Pulling her limbs in, she points her feet straight at the water below, plummeting like an arrow and ready to breach the surface of the lake below. Except, that doesn't happen at all. Rather than the icy embrace of the underground lake, she finds herself instead thudding into the soft cushion of a sand dune. That wasn't there before. She's travelled right through some sort of doorway and into a distant, empty land. There is nothing but desert for as far as she can see. Not a single feature, not a single tree. Her damp hair dries almost immediately under the scorching sun. She might be more concerned about being stranded if not for the visible twinkle of magical energy just a few steps ahead of her.

There's no sense staying around that place. It is empty, a deathlike place devoid of anything worth mentioning. Instead, she reaches out towards that second hidden gateway, and it opens up before her in an instant. She steps through and feels the humid air strike her face in contrast to the dry landscape she just left. A dense, damp jungle like that is little more than a swamp. She mucks her way through it in search of anything that might be another portal - or perhaps the treasure itself. A few steps and she's already regretting the dark leather. The desert was one thing, but in place of scorching heat, there's that damp warmth that leaves her wiping at her brow and tugging out her collar. She has no desire to stay there for too long, and she's relieved to stumble upon another gateway.

This one feels right. It's a cool, crisp forest. A few initial signs of autumn flutter down to the ground, crunchy and blazing red, but the rest is lush green. A little out of season, at least compared to the place where she found the hidden cave. Maybe she's in another land, another nation, or another world entirely. Whatever the case, something drives her forward. The artifact must be here. The trees sway slowly in the gentle breeze, both calming and slightly ominous. The forest feels as if it goes on forever. Aside from the rustle of fallen leaves, all else is silent. There is no chatter, no murmurings of creatures. All has fallen silent, instilling her surroundings with a distinct sense of danger. Natural or otherwise. Her sharp senses ought to tell her if she's being pursued or stalked, at least.

What was it that the cheetah said? Watch out for tricks? He spoke about the place as if it's something more than natural. Perhaps a pocket realm of sorts. But maintained by who? Created long ago and forgotten, perhaps? It might be that she's the first one to find this place in decades, maybe even centuries. So it's highly unlikely that there's someone else there, after the same thing as her. And when she hears that truly horrific scream, she really shouldn't be so unsettled.

It's not just a cry, it's a sound of utter terror and pain alike. It leaves her shuddering in response. What could possibly be happening to someone to compel them to make such a terrible noise? All sense of self-preservation tells her she ought to ignore such a piercing wail. Whatever's making it can't be a regular person. But if it is ... should she really abandon them to their fate in pursuit of her treasure? She's come a long way, but it would be unfortunate to have guilt weighing on her and lessening her satisfaction when this is all done.

What should she do?

[Investigate the sound]

[Ignore it]

Chapter 5, Branch 1

[Continues from "Investigate the sound."]

She has to know. If there's someone being attacked by some horrific death-beast of the haunted woods, she'll do what she can to save them. The forest grows more gloomy the further she goes. She picks up her pace as the fog rolls in around her, limiting her vision to just a few steps in front of her, making her eyes play tricks on her with those briefly-glimpsed ghostly silhouettes between the trees. Except they're not just tricks, she realizes. In time, she finds herself looking at some store of spectre, some haunting presence that stands before her, translucent and frozen in apparent horror. It's hard to tell the exact species of the ethereal figure, but she can tell they're the source of that sound. Once more that scream overtakes her senses, this time even louder, and then the figure is gone. Nothing more than a memory, a scar upon the realm she's found herself in, their miserable end etched permanently onto the landscape.

A distraction. She turns away, and continues towards the path. It's hard to tell just how long it's been. The air swirls around her. It's difficult to see. Yet when she finds herself on a vague dirt path cutting through the trees, she keeps following. It eventually leads her to her destination, or what ought to have been just that. She sees some sort of pedestal, a stone, hand-made thing that stands in contrast to her natural surroundings. If she was hiding an object of great power within a realm meant only to keep it safe, that is exactly where she would put it. But it's missing. There's nothing there but the empty surface where it ought to be. Someone got there first.

In her adventures, she's picked up plenty of assorted knowledge and she always seems to soak it up without much study. That skill proves useful as she examines the carvings on the side of the pedestal. The waning moon, the two-headed wolf, the soaring arrow - all the clear indications of Arlrasha, an ancient goddess of the hunt. Or, in some interpretations, of blood. She's not widely worshipped anymore, as far as Mahiri knows. A cold, jealous goddess like her fell out of favour long ago, when the more merciful ones made themselves known. The leopard isn't entirely confident that such an ancient figure truly exists, or that there is any power in her holy land anymore, but she would be wise to act like all the tales are true. If so, and she's not the goddess' chosen, not the hunter the ancient one sought, then that means she's the hunted.

She thought she felt someone following her from the moment of her arrival. That's when he chooses to reveal himself. The heavy growl from the shadows is hardly that of just a big cat. It's bigger, boomier than even the gruffest felines. Moreover, it's coming from everywhere. Maybe it's a whole pack - a pride perhaps? She whirls around and scans the treeline, looking for any possible sign of an ambush. Even her keen senses can't pierce through that fog. She brings her hands to the hilts of her twin daggers, even while she's already internally accepted that she's dealing with forces she can't possibly hope to defeat. That hardly means she won't try.

The expected ambush lunges seemingly out of nowhere, as if hidden by magic. How something so big could stay so well hidden is beyond her. Even with her quick reactions, she only manages to turn around in time to get barrelled over by the heft and bulk of a truly massive feline figure. He's not natural. There's something vaguely familiar about the pale lion that strikes her head-on. Even as she tumbles down to the grass and dirt, she tries to recall where she's seen him before. Perhaps on a previous escapade with a party? Logan. That name strikes her mind, but where she remembers a mild-mannered if well-built white lion, she now has a sabretoothed brute snarling and drooling in her face while he shoves her down and holds her there. He's bigger, broader, transformed into a hunching, beastly form that now has her in a compromising position. There's no sign of thought in those eyes of his.

One of her talents has always been to size up an enemy and pinpoint their weakness at a mere glance. She can't see one now. He's a wall of pure muscle, thickened out with an unnatural layer of strength. His whole figure is more primal, crouched low, looking halfway to a full animal. His teeth gleam with drool, extended fangs jutting over his lower jaw. He shudders with the sheer force of his resonant thread display, convulsions of snarls passing through his extensively masculine form. Something has tainted him, transformed him, and there's no reasoning with such a monster. All she can do is survive, even if it means harming him in the process.

She's lost the grip on her weapons. There's no time to go for them. Instead, she focuses on defending herself when he comes at her with teeth and claws alike. She's surprisingly calm through it all. Maybe it's just the survival instinct. There's no sense panicking even while she's being mauled by a were-lion, savaged by his enormous sabre-teeth, gnawed, scraped, slashed. None of it does any serious damage to anything but her armour. It's much thicker than it looks, capable of deflecting swords and arrows alike when stealth and agility aren't enough, but it doesn't withstand the lion's assault. Logan cuts her out of that leather with surprising precision, but it can hardly be called surgical. He still pierces the skin here and there in the midst of such fury, such pure aggression. The sight of a thick black cock standing tall amid the naked monster's attack hints that he's not just here to rip her to shreds. She's not sure if that's a relief or not.

The writhing, thrashing battle continues until he's stripped off more of her gear. Various trinkets and concealed weapons clutter their surroundings, freed from their hiding places and scattered with the force of his stripping her. It's an internal debate of whether to strike, to go for the eyes and try to hurt him enough to get away, or if she should simply wrestle him off of her and try to dissuade him that way. Angering him seems a poor idea, especially lost in those seemingly endless woods. There might not be any way out. For all she knows, the hunt may continue until he's had his way. At least he's moving away from her throat. Instead, he dips his great maned head down between her struggling thighs once he's peeled enough of her clothes and armour away. She braces herself for something bad when she sees him rearing up, as if charging up an attack, but when he lunges it's to shove his face right into her pussy.

That's not what she expected. Her cry is one of surprise and pleasure alike. He's every bit as vicious as before when he starts eating her out, but now the aggression is welcome, if overwhelming. She can't hold still while she's getting sloppily tended to by that scratchy lion tongue. He makes her kick her legs, buck her hips, and most of all madly wriggle there on the grass while he fucks sucks on her whole sex at once. Sometimes his fangs press into her body, but he even takes mild care not to bite her too much. Just a little. She's left with her back arched and her hips up in the air while he slobbers all over her pussy, puffing steaming hot feral breaths between the plunges and slurps alike. Of course he's having an effect on her. Every moment of enduring that ravenous cunnilingus is one that makes her wetter and wetter, until she's absolutely soaking with a mix of spit and lust alike She can hear him gulping once he's lapped enough of her juices to fill his drooling mouth.

It's enough to make her reflect a little of his feral nature. She's yowling by the time he pulls his slathered muzzle up from between her thighs. The look on his face almost seems to hint at intelligence for a few fleeting moments. Is he teasing her? He licks his chops in such a seductive way that she can't help but squirm a little more as the pleasure between her legs turns into aching, needy heat. There's something in his scent that speaks directly to her instincts. Breathing in the natural musk of a prime, virile male is enough to get her warm, and it's all the thicker and more intoxicating thanks to that monstrous form of his. He doesn't pause for much longer than that. A few seconds of teasing and he's right back to the ferocious growling and mauling. The fangs around her throat ensure she follows his exact directions, no matter how rough they might be.

Some shoving and biting later, and she finds herself flat on her face, muzzle ground into the dirt, ass up in the air. The satisfied-sounding growl from Logan tells her that's what he wants. He's not one for foreplay. His first lunging thrust comes pounding at her exposed pussy, only to slip off to the side and rub against her inner thigh. He pumps and thrusts the air, smearing up her rump in an excess of precum until he finally finds his mark. His cock is unusually canine in shape, perhaps thanks to the canine goddess' influence, or maybe he always had that. It's complete with that plump bulb that serves as a knot, but he's still got those tingly barbs to really add stimulation to his feral fuck.

Those would be overwhelming enough if he slowly eased them into her one by one. Instead, he just slams her full of cock and lets her feel the drag of every single one of those flexible spines at once. They're not painful, but they make for such a tingle that she's not even able to make any of her usual feline noise. No yowls, no snarls, she's just screaming for several seconds straight. Her throat feels hoarse by the time she's done expressing just how excessively good he feels inside her, and he doesn't take it as indication to slow down in the slightest.

It's not the gentlest sex she's ever had. She finds herself getting repeatedly rammed down into the dirt by the lion's brutal breed-fuck thrusts. He hammers her full of pussy-stretching dick until she's showing a significant belly bulge. Her heated confines squeeze in accommodation despite how harshly he ravages her spotty body. She faintly whimpers when he slams home just a little too hard, but the rest is yowling, lightly drooling pleasure. There's not much squirming for her to do with his sabre fangs wrapped so snugly around her whole neck. It's less a mating bite and more a threat, though he takes the time to nibble on her scruff when he's just just planting her like a post in the ground below them both.

He plaps her, spanks her with his pounding hips, he folds her up and leaves her reeling from the sheer impact that comes with that forceful fuck. The driving stroke and tingle of his feline tip ensures she's all wrapped up tight around him, clenching in needy, yowling heat. He fucks the need right into her at the same time as he satisfies it, but she knows her thirst won't be truly quenched until he's filled her with his seed and bred her full of monstrous hybrids. Or whatever might come of their violent mating anyway.

There's no struggling with him anymore. She can only brace herself by planting her palms firmly on the ground and clutching handfuls of dirt as her fingers curl to claws. With her face all scrunched and her teeth on full display, she bursts back into proper cat sounds while she gets bred by the drooling, mindless beast. He's nothing but pure force, endlessly thumping her from behind, gnawing on her, clutching her close. His pace never changes. He inelegantly plows into her until she's nearly numb from the repeated smack to her ass. He's not even fully inside her, but she's still bulging with his girth, stretched by his relentless fuck, slightly sore all over but easily able to ignore it thanks to all the pleasure that comes right with their monstrous sex. Their roars bellow out into the woods as they writhe their way to a crude paradise together, and the twitching of the lion's rigid cock brings her closer and closer to getting knocked up with his every lunge.

She can't even hear anymore. There's no telling who's roaring louder, but by the vibrations she feels emanating from deep within him, he's probably winning that little contest. He releases her throat and instead just shoves firmly on her upper back in those final moments before he erupts. She gets squished down flat but for her hind end, still raised for his thrusting ease. His cockbulge grinds through the dirt where it stretches her belly, and he plunges forth in one last heavy thump to get his whole dick jammed inside her, knot and all. The heat hits her in an instant. She's left sweltering with a womb full of lion spunk before she can even finish roaring. Their collective sound blasts through the forest, blowing back the branches, knowing leaves to the ground, but she carries on in ear-ringing silence while she cums for him. The orgasm simply seizes hold of her body and leaves her violently convulsing her way through an unnatural level of pleasure. Or perhaps it's the most natural pleasure of all.

She overflows by the time the lion's done stuffing her full of his potent load. She swells, she sags, she stretches and sloshes with a wobbling belly full of all that cream. It jets from her pounded pussy, but he still fucks it into her until she's full to utter capacity. She's left numb and dazed, the world blurred before her with a drunken sway. His cock gives a few last solid twitches inside her before he pulls that knot right back out with a sudden, shocking pop. She wasn't even done cumming. A screech escapes her and she's left writhing there in his clutches. He clings to her even still, catching her in a broad bear hug that mashes her back against his broad, muscled chest. She can barely breathe for how hard he's squeezing her. All she can do is slowly tilt her head back and gaze up at him to try to get an idea of what he's up to. She only briefly glimpses his face before she's left gazing into the open void of his maw. His fangs frame her vision of his mouth coming down towards her face. His intent is clear. There's less than a second to decide what to do.

Either she gets her hands up and tries to force those jaws away from her face just in time, or she takes her chances with his fangs while she looks for a suitable weapon among the discarded trinkets. Maybe one of those many tiny vials of collected substances might contain exactly what she needs to stun him. Of course, that would mean letting him get his jaws over his head without so much as trying to fight him. Maybe it's better just to get her hands up to try to delay him while she thinks of something. It's not going to be easy to make a getaway with her belly all full of cum either way, but she has to decide. There's no time to weigh the strengths and weaknesses of either approach.

What should she do?

[Struggle with his jaws]

{Reach for something to throw at him]

Chapter 5, Ending 1

[Continues from "Struggle with his jaws."]

She can't just let him chomp on her head without defending herself. The choice is obvious to her, coming by pure instinct. She gets her hands up and shoves his face away from her own for as long as she can. That results in getting plenty of drool all over her fingers, and plenty more dribbling down over her head, trickling down the back of her neck. The transformed lion's mouth is watering for her, and she's realizing she hasn't thought this one out much further than this moment. So she's managed to keep her head out of his mouth for a few moments longer, but now what? She struggles, her arms quivering with the effort, but she knows he's stronger than her. It's only a matter of time.

Maybe she should have gone for a weapon. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. She finds herself buckling, unable to push him away any longer. It's hard to tell, but he might be toying with her. Surely he could easily just overpower her all at once if he wanted, but instead he's slowly easing his way over her head and face, no matter how much she tries to push him away. His cock is still hard. She can feel it throbbing against her lower back and ass while he homfs his way over her face with a fangy embrace. Immersed in his heated breath and drool all at once, she can only express her displeasure with a particularly emphatic HMMF. There's no dissuading him, even when she starts elbowing, starts fighting with him as best she can. She doesn't thrash, not with those fangs pointed right at her throat, and that makes it easy for him to keep slurping down over her chest and nibbling on her tits while she gets shoved up against the back of her throat.

He's built for this. Or, more accurately, has been transformed for this. There's no choking, no straining. It's all a smooth, sloppy process of pushing her headfirst into his gullet. His hungry growls echo there, nearly deafening. She flinches with each one, but she doesn't give up fighting, even when she's obviously losing. He clutches her tighter, clawing her naked body to keep her from getting away. It doesn't keep her from squirming. Getting hurt is one thing, getting swallowed whole is another. He takes her deeper, aggressively gulping, lunging at her body so he can forcefully stuff her bust into his jaws. The pressure of his swallowing makes it hard to breathe. She digs her knees into the dirt in an attempt to get leverage, to smash his back against his chest and stun him, but the resulting blow after all that effort is nothing more than a light bump. It doesn't stop him. He keeps eating her.

One particularly resonant ULP leaves her shaken. The sheer force of his gullet kneading around her face and tits alike keeps her stifled, ensures she can't get too much of a struggle going. She's disoriented and inverted while he hefts her up. A harsh grip on her thighs suppresses most but not all of her desperate kicking. All she has left is that thrashing tail. It makes for an adequate whip, but whapping it against the hard muscles of the monstrous lion ends up hurting her more than it does him. She doesn't scream. Instead, she just grunts and growls with the effort to try to overpower her way out of his constricting throat. Nothing seems to slow her slippery, slimy descent, no matter how defiant she is about it. He snorts and grunts his way through crudely devouring her, dragging her into the unbearably humid confines of his gullet, closer and closer to his waiting gut. It's alarming just how well she fits when her curves are so squishy and malleable versus the constant, unyielding undulations of peristalsis. The squeezing might even be pleasant if not for the heavy gurgling growing closer and closer with every swallow.

His gut's ready for her. That much is clear by the heavy churns sloshing and grumbling below as she descends. Seems he's already started on the digestion without her. Her arms are pinned to her sides. She doesn't have access to any of her weapons. By then she's little more than a pair of spotty legs sticking out of his stretched maw, framed between his fangs, dripping cum from her tender, overstuffed cunt. The pressure on her gut ensures she makes a mess of his chin, giving him a sloppy stream pouring down his chest and slowly swelling belly. She touches down. The slick surface at the bottom of his gut slides against her mussed locks. The juices are already sinking into her fur. She blinks them away, then just closes her eyes tight. There's nothing to see. Her growls of effort grow to a frustrated yowl when all her struggles prove fruitless. All that's left is for him to shake her down his bulging throat, to greedily shoe at her wiggling paws, to slurp her tail down like she's nothing more than his noodle, his lunch, barely even prey.

Just to make it worse, he makes it clear he's getting pleasure out of the whole thing with a distinct, satisfied rumble that comes with finishing her off. She feels the comparatively cool air left behind as he slurps her feet away and forces her down into his growing gut, all curled up and smashed into an awkward position by the constant compression of his hunger. An extended hmmmm of satisfaction goes along with him cupping and cradling his prize. He's not gentle about that either. Kneading firmly in around the curves that he's sealed away inside him ensures the leopard keeps squirming while he soaks her in juices and nearly crushes her on the spot with the force of his powerful flexes of digestion. She's got her paws right up in her face, rump dunked down beneath the surface of the frothing, tingling fluids, bent far too much to manage to shove back at him much. Not only is he digesting her, but he's freely groping her all over without fear of reprisal all the while.

She can still work those hips, can still wriggle and wobble his bulging belly while the gurgling really works around her. Now's the time to think of something, before she takes too much damage. She might be tough enough to adventure on her own oftentimes, but she's not going to endure forever. The transformation has made Logan's acids all the more potent. She's already simmering away, sizzling and dissolving, though it's just her fur that takes the brunt of it for now. Those fluids rise up higher and higher, until she has to tilt her head up towards the top of his stomach just to keep from going under and drowning.

She's not sure why she's prolonging it, but it's not going to take long either way. Not at this rate. Her spots are already ruined over much of her body, and that's when the itchy tingle really starts. It burns sometimes too, but she's surprised at how painless it really is. The damning numbness in place of the agony she expected is hardly any more comforting. She's already diminishing, already softening, already getting melted and digested alive to the point she'll never be the same even if he coughs her up now.

That doesn't seem likely. He clutches his prey tight and hefts her up and down to bounce that swell, making his belly jiggle and the juices splash her in the face. She makes sure not to cry out, lest she end up with a mouthful of acids. There's still a distinct bulge of her tits and thighs, so he makes sure to squeeze them while they're still solid. Less so with each churn. She feels those heavy, aggressive squeezes working the juices deeper and deeper into her mostly submerged form, feels herself starting to sink down into the softening mush that used to be her lower self. Weakening and fading, she still clings to consciousness for whatever reason. Maybe she just refuses to be defeated yet, or perhaps she's holding out in hopes that her stubbornness will result in some sort of consequences for him and his overindulgence.

Either way, she's still going to be lion pudge. There's no escaping now, not when her very silhouette is vanishing beneath the stretched skin of the stuffed lion. He strokes slowly along the outline of her bust, feels it flattening beneath even gentle pressure. When he gives one of her legs a good squeeze, his fingers sink down into that bulge as if through softened butter. He belches. The heavy sound stirs up those fluids all the more, until they're aggressively bubbling and gurgling around her neckline. She can't keep her head up anymore. She tries to reach up a hand, but finds she can't even feel it. It might not even be there.

All her squirming efforts are replaced with the twitching of her final nerve impulses. One last soft gasp and she can't stop herself from submerging beneath the surface of those potent juices. She's fully immersed in acids while they hiss and burn through all that leopard meat, melting right down to the bone, accumulating all the sludge and soup that used to be her somewhere near the bottom of his gut for further absorption. Writhing her last, she fades to the sound of those glurks and gworgles, the last thing she'll hear before that shapely bulge flattens over entirely, leaving nothing but a vague lump that used to be a roguish leopardess.

It takes a while yet to fully process her. The lion lounges in that shadowy realm. Another weaker, smaller preything digested by something stronger. If the goddess is watching, she offers no visible blessing for doing her good work. The only reward he needs is the added fat on his gut. Not all of her turns to pudge. Plenty more goes towards enhancing his half-feral figure, into swelling out those taut muscles and bulking him up even bigger. He belches plenty while he claims her, one churn at a time. She's nothing but bones at the bottom of his belly, and even those are slowly corroded, melted down to something soft and harmless by their constant exposure to unnaturally potent belly acid. It's enough to make him really get to belching, bellowing out those percussive braaalps almost conversationally, until eventually there's so much pressure built up that Mahiri finally escapes her digestive fate after all. Just far too late.

First, some clumps of fur escape his gaping jaws. They're all tangled up with some of her crimson hair, still fiery even after an extended stay in his stomach. Some of those come wrapped around a stray buckle or two, pierces of her shredded outfit that he didn't fully strip off before devouring her. They're of no consequence. More challenging is the process of dropping down to his hands and knees, and shuddering his way through some harsh, hacking coughs to eject something much more weighty. The clatter and scrap of softened bones rubbing together on the way out is a curious sound to come echoing up his throat. Then he's spitting out a significant portion of her skeleton right there upon the forest floor. Plenty of ribs, a femur, pieces of her spine, but most obvious is her bleached skull. It's gone utterly white, soaked and slimy but polished and hollow, cracked and sinking inwards thanks to the digestive softening.

He probably could have digested all those too, but they make for a suitably macabre trophy, a landmark upon the hidden land, mere inches away from her goal. She almost made it, but he got there first, and so he was the hunter, and she was the hunted. Whoever ventures there next shall see her discarded partial skeleton strewn around the pedestal, and they shall know this is a place of danger and death. Maybe they'll turn back. But it'll probably already be too late. Logan takes such pleasure in his new beast form, rising up to hunch and stalk around the silent forest, awaiting his next meal. Surely it won't be long until another wanders there, perhaps even a whole party. After tasting his first live, wriggling meal and digesting her whole, Logan only wants more. Mahiri was just practice prey. Hopefully his next dinner will be a challenge.

GAME OVER

Chapter 5, Ending 2

[Continues from "Reach for something to throw at him."]

When in doubt, throw something. Anything.Everything. It's worked before, sometimes with unexpected results. With her vision framed by fangs, she's just going to have to hope for the best. She reaches out and gropes for the nearest scattered vial, uncorks it with her thumb, and splashes it directly into the open mouth of the lion. Given the deadly poisons she tends to carry on her person just in case, that might have been cruel, but it was an act of desperation. He growls and recoils as soon as he tastes the unidentified substance, which gives her a few hints of what it actually was. The nastiest poisons and venoms alike tend to be tasteless, so maybe that was something more like ...

Thump goes his rigid cock as he suddenly thrusts it against her lower back. He outright clubs her with that hard shaft, suddenly frightfully erect. A few manic humps against her spots while clutching her close hardly gives her a chance to squirm away. If anything she's just made him more possessive of her. At least he isn't trying to eat her anymore. She can endure another rough fuck if it means she can slink away when he's done with her. Or she thinks she can at least. His cock was already a fat, pussy-stretching titan. And it's getting bigger. It swells up against her spine while he grinds on her, letting her feel every throb of that expanding girth until it's spurting into her hair. Well, she definitely knows what she threw at him now. Aphrodisiacs are useful for adventuring purposes as much as for leisure time, but she certainly didn't expect this kind of reaction.

She can ponder the unique interaction later. Right now, she's got a horny lion to deal with. If he expects to get that gigantic thing inside her, then he's going to be disappointed. He barely fit when he was less than half as big. She shoves back at that looming cock and tries to crawl away from him, digging her knees into the dirt. When he unexpectedly lets her go, it's only to speed around in front of her and confront her directly with his towering cock. She isn't fast enough to avoid having him rub it in her face a few times. Well, if she just needs to lick it to satisfy him, that she can do. Besides, that natural musk, smeared up with a mix of her own pheromones, that's enough to make her all tingly and achy again. Did she get a splash of that aphrodisiac herself, or is his scent and taste just that enticing. Okay, maybe she can enjoy herself a little before she makes her getaway. At least she seems to have tamed him for the moment. He sits back and awaits her attention, though his occasional escalating growl tells her she needs to make sure she satisfies.

Licking her way up takes a while. That's a lot of cock to tend to. She doesn't have to hold back either. Mashing her rough tongue against the dark surface of his shaft, she forcefully slurps until she's finally made her way to his tip. There's plenty for her to lap up once she's there. She doesn't bother to worry about her own dignity when she's got so much taste spunk to lick off his fattened cock. Every swell, every throb makes for another spurt, splashing her in the face, soaking her bare tits, slathering much of her upper body in the leaking lust that thickens the longer she worships his beastly cock. She doesn't let anything break her concentration, even when he starts thrusting towards her muzzle, humping the air, going so visibly rigid she wonders if she can make him cum with just her tongue. With a swish of her tail, she relaxes into a pleased rumble, content that she can keep him relatively and enjoy herself in the process too.

Dropping her guard for even a moment proves a mistake. When he raises one hand up, it seems a lazy gesture, only for him to give a sharp snarl and slap his palm down on the back of her head. She doesn't see it coming, taking the full brunt of the blow, getting her muzzle shoved right up against the tip of his cock - and then inside. A slick schlurp is all it takes to get her stuck inside his dick, feeling him clenching on her with sheer lust, kneading all around her features while juices stream down her cheeks and chin. His musk overpowers her thoughts, but she can still reflexively tug herself back out. Or try to. She finds herself lodged there, caught up in the grip of his pulsing lust, and the more she struggles, the more he seems to throb. Groping about his shaft and planting her hands firmly upon it, she starts shoving, forcefully yanking her head back to try to escape him. A flex just tugs her a little deeper.

Sliding the cat's whole head into his cock doesn't seem to bother Logan any. He snorts and rowls and gives her another shove, this time gripping her ass. A mildly humiliating situation turns increasingly precarious the more he slurps her down his dick. No way he could possibly get her all in there, right? That's what she thinks to herself as her shoulders slip and slide against the well-lubed tip, only to pop inside without much strain. She bulges beneath the shiny black shin of his shaft and sucks down rapid breathes, trying to get more air that isn't clouded by his rich musk. It only grows more potent the deeper she goes. He's swallowing her down his cock and it even sounds like gulping. A rapid, juicy ulp ulp ulp is her echoing damnation as she realizes just how much danger she's really in.

The lion's snarls lift up higher, more powerful while he lustfully consumes the leopardess in a way she never expected. She didn't convince him not to eat her, she just gave him another way to do it. He's already squishing over her tits, swallowing along her cum-swollen belly, and going deeper still. She digs her toes into the dirt, but her feet soon lift the ground when she's devoured down to the middle. He suspends her in the air with ease, supporting the entirety of her weight with his cock alone. It's still perfectly rigid, bulging outwards with every flex. The outline of a shapely leopard pushes out from beneath the shiny skin, her bust and shocked expression alike both mostly visible. He squeezes around her trapped tits when he starts jerking himself off to the pleasure of consuming her. Those indulgent strokes just speed up the sloppy process, until she's got her stunned muzzle pointed straight at the jizz factory of his nuts. They're much more accommodating than she might expect.

Splatting smoothly into the lion's sagging sack, she swells him out with squirming cat, leaving her kicking and confused while he tries to finish her off. When he's got her plump ass trapped in his dick, he takes to pressing on her paws. Her legs buckle from the force, but he doesn't stop. He's almost desperate to cram her in there as quickly as he can. His balls lift up with the forceful throbs of pleasure that come with consuming her, flexing hard for one long, heavy gulp that almost completely sucks her down. Another one immediately follows that. A ball-jostling, pre-squirting, sucking, slurping cock-swallow is enough to drag her thighs inside him, then her calves, her paws, and the very tip of her flailing tail. She's fully immersed in the musky confines of his shaft, and those natural scents only get thicker all the way down to the bottom where she's dunked beneath the surface of the freshest, most potent spunk the lion can possibly produce. That cum bath is her new reality now, hot and stifling, leaving her to cough and choke for just how thick the air is even once she forces her way back to the surface of that thick cream.

It clings to everything. She's completely coated in it, wearing it like a second skin, and she can barely manage to clear her mouth enough just to gasp. Just when she thinks she's somewhat steady in there, he flexes those nuts hard around her, lifting them right up off the ground with the effort. The walls hug around her shapely form until there's a near-perfect portrait of her curves bulging in the lion's nuts, trapped right in the middle of them both. She gets a mouthful of her fleshy surroundings when she cries out with an overwhelmed mewl. It feels like she's about to be crushed, but he finally relaxes and lets his nuts slap back down to the wet grass again, jostling and sloshing around her. She takes a fat cumshot in the face once her head breaches the surface once more. The constant churning keeps her oddly tingling while she coughs and chokes, nearly passing out from all the stimulation at once. Yet for all the pressure, all the chaos of being churned inside the beast-lion's sack, something is just so good about it.

Maybe it's the humiliation, the domination. Maybe it's just the scent, or the oddly pleasant feeling of getting turned to cum, one glorsh at a time. Either way, she finds herself using what little remains of her strength to frantically pleasure herself much like Logan is doing himself. She stuffs two fingers in her pussy and lets his cum flow inside her while she rapidly fingers herself in a bath of his jizz. It soaks her fur until she swears she's been bleached of spots, and all she can think to do is pump her hips along with the natural pumping waves of cream all around her. Every little flex, every twitch just sends her deeper into mindless pleasure, no longer even considering what's happening to her. Getting off one last time before she's fully converted is all she can think about, but she might not be so lucky.

Another nut-lifting clench, and this time she can feel herself starting to give way under all the pressure, starting to sink in and crush down into a softer, more malleable shape. She's changing. Her body isn't melting so much as it's simply getting gooped, getting transformed into something gooier to mingle nicely with all the jizz sloshing around her. By then she's nearly blacking out in the heat and musk while he forcefully flattens her down with the power of those clenches. When that one relaxes, she slumps down, barely even gasping anymore. Her head spins, her limbs twitch, and she finds herself barely able to hold herself above the cream any longer. It simmers, it burbles, it loudly glorps and splatters up right in her defeated face. And then there comes one more good squeeze.

She manages to hold up for another few seconds, to endure the pressure even with her softening shape, but it's not long before that fading outline of the trapped cat vanishes all at once. It's a sudden change, squishing her down flat while she merges with his spunk, accompanied by a massive splut as she gets squished and down liquefied by the massive pressure. The lion snorts and frantically strokes his shaft all the wall, letting his balls swell and sag with the extra contributions of that cum-digested victim. The leopardess vanishes under all that crushing force, squeezed into spunk, made into part of the lion's next load. Logan drools and licks his oversized cock while his balls jump and twitch with the pressure running through them. He's energized to a level of arousal beyond anything he's ever experienced, left unable to even properly roar while he hugs his dick and pumps it to an explosive peak. Mahiri is fully churned, claimed, and transformed, and all that remains of her comes rushing up the were-lion's cock, bulging those veins with the pressure of spurting her out.

The first rope carries with it several thick, sodden clumps of her fur and hair, mingled into one cream-drenched wad to splat crudely to the forest floor. He fires off another, and another, painting down the forest in his scent. His musk is made all the more potent thanks to churning up the whole leopardess - or most of her at least. There are still plenty of bones, mercifully smoothed down for the high-pressure trip straight back up his rigid cock. Near her entire skeleton is intact when he fires it forth on a jet of hot jizz. It soars up into the air, clattering all the way, then crashes down to partly shatter in a puddle of lion spunk. There isn't a trace of her left. Everything he could convert is part of that gushing load, while that bleached white pile of bones becomes the epitaph to her vulgar fate, to the lewd, messy final moments of her grand adventuring career, spent soaking in someone's spunk and fuelling a fat cumshot.

Puffing, drooling, and still throbbing plenty, the lion finally finishes his climax and slumps down to admire his newly added heft. She made his dick fatter. Not all of her turned to cum. His balls have some extra heft, resting there upon the grass between his thighs. His shaft is thicker, especially around the knotted base, and most of all he finds himself afflicted with lust just as ravenous as his appetite for meat. He's going to need another victim, another preything to chase down and stuff into his cock. Mahiri's improvised attack might have saved her from his belly, but she just ended up sprayed all over the forest floor instead. Whether melting her and jizzing her out was enough to please the goddess of the hunt isn't clear, but that's not the liquefied leopard's problem anymore.

GAME OVER

Chapter 5, Branch 2

[Continues from "Ignore it."]

No. It's a distraction. Either it's just a trick brought on by the magic in those woods, or worse - something is mimicking a distress voice to lure in prey. Either way, she can't let it distract her from her goal, even if she does feel a pang of guilt, just in case it was a real person in distress. Her selfishness has a payoff, at least. It's just a few more minutes forward before she comes across a clearing, a pedestal, and what can only possibly be the artifact she's been seeking. It's more of an idol, now that she sees it up close. A simple, carved piece of wood in the shape of a howling two-headed wolf might look unassuming, even useless at first glance, but she has a keen sense for magic. She can just feel it, and that's no ordinary enchantment that lurks within it. By the shape of it and the carvings upon its resting place, she knows it to be an artifact of Arlrasha, goddess of the hunt.

From what she's soaked up in her travels, she knows Arlrasha to be one of the most fickle of ancient gods, largely forgotten in the modern age as a result. Bloodthirsty and wrathful in equal measure, it seems foolish to seek her favour, especially in what seems to be her own realm. But Mahiri has already come so far. She needs to know what will come of touching that tiny thing. Such a modest trinket. She could probably easily fit it into one of her many hidden pockets and nobody would even notice she's carrying it. Though perhaps that would be disrespectful to the easily angered goddess, if she's even out there. Maybe tales of her cruelty are nothing more than that, stories told to cover for the very real nastiness of mortals. Though just to be safe - it might be a good idea to remove any other symbols of favour she's carrying with her beforehand.

She's not sure if that strange, pointed necklace counts as an idol, but she's pretty sure she acquired it during a close encounter with something otherworldly. The memory remains as hazy as ever, but that much feels true. Of course, she's never managed to remove it since it first locked around her neck. Attempting to do so now might be nothing more than wasting time. Perhaps she just ought to reach out and take what she's been striving for, even at the risk of angering two powerful entities at the very same time.

What should she do?

[Try to remove her necklace]

[Leave it on]

Chapter 5, Ending 3

[Continues from "Try to remove her necklace."]

Best not to risk it. She reaches for that pointed star, not really sure what her plan is to get it off, but maybe the effort will be enough. As soon as she lays her bare fingertips upon the cold metal - whatever it's really made of - she feels a flash of warmth and something like a grip. It didn't grab her, exactly, but she can't tug her hand away. It's stuck as if pasted to her odd trinket, and no matter how hard she tugs, she can't break the chain around her neck either. That's enough to make her furrow her brow even as she nervously bites her lip. It's never done that before, that she knows of anyway. Why now?

Her body shudders at the sensation of some strange energy entering her. Something's taking control. Her free arm moves all on its own, reaching out towards the idol, even while she's still clutching her seemingly cursed necklace. Nothing happens when she grabs that wooden trinket, at least not at first. When she brings it up to touch the star around her neck, she causes such a sudden reaction that she's left stunned, staggering back at the violent flash that hits her vision. Temporarily blind, she's left groping about and finds a tree to cling to. Her hands are free once more, but that doesn't give her much luck. A snarl splits the silence, followed by a deep, wicked chuckle. She doesn't know what she just summoned, and she's not going to find out soon. The sheer, overwhelming presence of whatever stands before her is enough to make her knees buckle, her mind go blank, and her eyes roll back in her head as she collapses there under the shelter of the softly swaying branches. She may have just made a terrible mistake.

When she awakens, it is night. She gasps herself to awareness, and finds her breath coming ragged and raspy. The moon shines bright, a vibrant crescent, casting a ghostly sheen over the whole scene. A cool breeze touches her bare fur. She clasps at herself to find her outfit shredded, torn away from her body by unknown forces. But more than that - something's happened to her. The muscles in her arms, once lean and limber, are like solid steel now. She rises slowly on treetrunk thick legs, and finds her back hunching, arched into a primal stance. Her fangs jut down over her lower lip. She drools and snorts and deeply rumbles. The urge to simply lash out and claw the nearest tree leaves her snarling into the silent night. A thrash and swing of her claws cleanly slashes through a nearby branch, sending it tumbling to the forest floor.

She's not sure what exactly has happened to her, but the biggest change of all is the thumping, rigid need between her thighs. It's only when she gets to her feet that she truly notices the fat, dark cock standing tall against her belly, pulsing with vicious urgency. That monstrous transformation has gifted her with strength, with size, with height and heft alike, and it's also granted her a truly intimidating glossy spire to go along with two fat balls swaying with her every step. She needs to put that inside someone. That thought compels her to snarl until she's drooling on herself. The glistening, naked were-leopardess takes off in search of prey, mindlessly answering the call of the hunt and lust alike. And she's not the only adventurer searching for that treasure.

While sight is usually her strongest of senses, scent serves her just as well now. She can smell him. Her nose points her to the warmth of a nearby figure. Feline. Male. He'll do. She dips her head down and plants her hands so she can sprint off on all fours and ambush that unsuspecting adventurer. He's not exactly hidden. The moonlight shines brightly on his white mane, but she hardly needs the help. She feels as if she could stalk and pounce a shadow for how keen her new senses prove to be. A tall, well-built figure, he's someone she's travelled with before. Logan, was the name? She doesn't care anymore. There's a faint flash of recognition in the eyes of her prey for those brief few moments he manages to glimpse her before she collides with his helpless body, sending them both crashing to the soft ground in a heap of limbs and snarls.

She doesn't spare the ferocity. Her teeth and claws are longer, sharper, and they're perfect for stripping him down. She gets a few mouthfuls of fur and leather alike in the process, as well as a few small tastes of blood when she's too vicious. The lion's strong, but she's so much more powerful. It's not long before she has him pinned down on his face, rowling in alarm, barely even able to growl himself. She finds his neck with her fangs and locks on tight, helping to suppress any sort of protests. He doesn't even get a word out. That's probably smart. He knows he's dealing with something that won't answer to reason. All he has left is sheer muscle, but she takes pleasure in overpowering him every time he attempts to shove back at her. There's no wriggling free from her grasp, and she digs her claws in just to make that clear.

Her body knows what it wants. She doesn't have to think about how to mount him properly. It's like she's always had a massive, arm-sized cock. With a forceful jab at his tufted tail, and then a snarly grab and yank, she forces him to present for her while she grinds and humps towards her goal. Getting nestled between his cheeks doesn't take long, but what comes after that is a much more daunting task. That muscular lion probably hasn't been fucked much, if at all. She's still going to take him all for herself. He yowls like a lioness as she violates him, one thrust at a time. The sheer volume of fluids she's putting out ensures his tight rump is soaked after just a few spurts. She smears it all over his cheeks before she gets back to her goal, stretching him a little more with each jab as she drools on his mane and nibbles his neck. That fluff isn't going to protect him from her long, curved canines, not after she's transformed.

Lust blends with a strange sort of anger, as if she's furious at him for even existing. She must destroy him. That much is clear. Eventually she pushes past the initial resistance and penetrates that tough lion right there on the forest floor. He's pinned down beneath a blanket of rosettes, getting thumped deeper and deeper with every pounding stroke. She throbs inside him, she stretches him out, she makes him whimper in an ever so undignified way, but she's not stopping. Not when she has a warm lion all wrapped around her cock. The pulsing alone is enough to shake Logan's whole body. She snatches his mane, she yanks his tail, she claws right down his back while she gnaws on his neck, and even his whole head. He's going to be covered in all kinds of little scratches and abrasions by the time she's done with him, but that seems the least of his worries.

She keeps pressing until she's nearly bottomed out entirely in his rear. He's got a belly-bulging outline of leopard cock stretching out under his pale fur, and she's not stopping. Her pace is swiftly manic, savaged, utterly brutal. He gets pounded down into the grass and dirt over and again, left with his pristine white fur all despoiled while she uses him for her feral pleasure. Her biting has her take almost his entire head into her mouth at a few points, hinting at something much worse to come, but she doesn't start eating him just yet. She's not truly sure what her plans for him might be. The future isn't exactly something she thinks about while she's getting everything she needs in the form of his contractions and squeezes. The way he tries to squirm away from the relentless rutting leopardess just makes it feel all the better, leaving her mixing in some pleasant rrrrrrs along with the usual snarls of command. For all the intimidating noise she makes, he refuses to remain still and just take it.

The solid PLAP of two fat fuzzy nuts slapping against his ass over and over rings through the otherwise silent forest. No birds scatter, no animals flee. They are entirely alone there in that strange realm. Hunter and hunted, just as the goddess likes. She ravages him with those deep-pounding thrusts until her cock presses right up near his chest. He's weakening, not just from exertion, but from the sheer toll her brutal fuck takes on his body. His arms flop down at his sides eventually, leaving him to loosely flop along with her every hump. She licks his wounds while she forcefully claims him, precum growing thicker with every single stroke until her balls finally give those deep, telltale clenches of going over. Their actual mating didn't last long, if it can even be called that, but she's not trying to pleasure him. She wants to dominate, ruin, and mark her prey with her cum. The rigid tension flexing through her lion-breaking shaft prepares her to do just that.

The screechy sound she lets out is somewhere between a yowl and a roar. It's enough to wake up the lion, at least. He almost looked dead there for a moment, but he just briefly passed out from the overstimulation. He's very much awake and aware while she floods him with her spunk. His belly gets swollen in an instant, on the very first pump of fresh seed, and the rest just stretches and expands him even more. He makes a few vague wiggles as if to protest the indignity of it all, or to beg her to stop there before he's simply too full. Some of the pressure comes off around her buried shaft, jets squirting out beneath his tail when he just gets far too stuffed. The rest, he drools out, running down his chin slowly at first. Eventually it's more of a fountain, leaving him looking like he's roaring at the moon, when he's just coughing up an excessive amount of were-leopard jizz. He's left hacking and choking by the time she's done, desperately clearing his throat as Mahiri's titanic nuts finally stop twitching against his ass. She hardly even gives him a break to catch his breath.

After the sudden, shocking yank from his depths, she finds herself still throbbing, still pumping up tight with the urge to cum, but she doesn't have any more to give. She could wait the minute or two it'll take her to recharge, feline as she is, but she doesn't even have that minimal level of patience. The lion meanwhile is writhing in a pool of leopard jizz, slipping and sliding, coughing and wheezing. He can't get up. Mahiri observes his defeated, pathetic form, all smeared in her musk, ruined, defiled - and she can't feel a shred of mercy. Not with that transformed, animal mind. Without warning, she snatches him by the sodden mane and drags him towards her glistening cock as it thumps and throbs insistently. That tight ass helped milk her dry. He's just going to have to help her fill her nuts back up now.

Pulling on that once-elegant tuft of fur around his head ensures he's compliant. He mrawls and fusses, but he doesn't fight her too much. Not when she's projecting such a constant, sinister snarl. She rattles the trunks and branches of the surrounding trees as she squats down over him, looming, drooling, dripping the excess cum from their coupling. Then she grabs him by both shoulders and easily hefts him up in the air, rising to her feet in the process. He's left dangling and vaguely kicking, but he still doesn't resist her. She could probably bite him in half if she wanted to. Instead, she turns him upside down so his sloppy mane covers much of his face, and his sloshing belly presses right down to his chest. The precarious position leaves Logan confused on what she's planning, right up to the moment she drops back down to her knees and piledrives his head straight down into her gaping cockslit in the process.

There's nothing delicate about the way she feeds him to her dick. She slams him in and starts stuffing him away as quickly as she can while ignoring his continuous muffled cries. Ramming him straight down her massive cock is effortless. She smothers him in the musky confines and squeezes him towards her waiting nuts. They churn and outright jump up from the forest floor in anticipation. Her snarls remain modest for those moments of concentration, projected through clenched teeth. She squishes along his chest, then starts mashing his cum-stuffed gut inside, even if that means putting on an excess of pressure. He's left with her jizz pouring from his mouth again, running down into her nuts before he reaches them himself, while the rest just jets up from his well-fucked ass. She hardly needs to shove at him for what a good job those constant clenches and swallows are doing dragging him away, but she nonetheless smacks at his thighs and paws in effort to pack him away and make him into a prisoner of her sack as quickly as she can. It's hard to tell if the blazing appetite that compels her to consume him is more like traditional hunger or just lust. Certainly there's plenty of both involved.

When he's just a pair of paws sticking up from her cock, she gives a yowl of delight, breaking from her bassy resonance for those few moments to express her pleasure. Sinking back, she has to plant her hands down to steady herself while her cock madly flexes all on its own. The pressure squeezes so tightly around Logan's muscular form that every single detail of his trapped face can be seen. He can't move or breathe until she relaxes once more, but that's only to release her hold for one final gulp. She drools and sighs her way through swallowing him into her balls. His face drives down to the bottom of the musky chamber, left swimming and sloshing in the stuff, smeared up as she drags the rest of his broken body along to join him. He can't fully tell the extent of the damage to his form right now, but he's numb in places he probably shouldn't be, and only getting number.

Once she has the lion fully packed away in her nuts, Mahiri singularly devotes herself to jerking herself off with both hands, with her arms even. She hugs that massive dick to her chest and grinds it on her tits while it tenses and expands with the massive flexes that come along with churning up that unlucky cat in her nuts. She got there first. Looks like he's going to be nothing more than her next cumshot, fuelling that oversized tool, stuffing those plump white balls. They pull up taut around the lion, kneading him around, sliding him from one to the other while jizz grows thicker with every single squeeze. He tries to fight with them, tries to force the walls away from him, but he's left smothered and slowly succumbing to her horny appetite, squeezed up and softened by every single noisy gurgle of fat cat nuts.

Eventually the excitement proves a little much even for her transformed body. She slumps back against a tree and lets her cock stand tall while she fondles it, still rubbing it all the time. Her balls pull inwards with outright crushing pressure, helping to ensure the lion assimilates with the rising load of seed all around him. She's a cat. Of course she recharges fast. She didn't truly need his help, but it's so much sweeter this way. Transforming the lion into cum ensures she's not just ready to get off again, but her balls are outright bloating outwards with the excess cream he helps produce. His fur smooths over, sleek and glossy as he gradually converts, left to slosh and glorsh about as she snuffs him out with the constant kneading and pumping. Fading, softening, losing his shape, he manages to slap a gooey hand against the walls of that musk sauna until she gives a final, decisive CLENCH and utterly annihilates him from any recognizable form.

Orgasmic flexes overtake mere seconds later, but she's not actually cumming. It's just a spurt of particularly thick precum, so potent that it easily propels forth the remnants of her meal. There's not a trace of his body left but for some cum-soaked bones. Those shoot straight up into the air in an impressive arc before they smack back down to the floor, carelessly strewn about the forest, marking it as a place of death. She knows how satisfying it would be to cum the rest of him out right that very moment, but she's not ready. Instead, she rises into a hunched, tense pose, humping the air a few times, dripping some more excess juices. She needs a womb to breed. Someone to pin, to fuck, to knock up again and again with the cum-churned lion. The forest feels empty to her, but she knows it won't be long. Surely her new goddess shall provide.

THE END

Chapter 5, Ending 4

[Continues from "Leave it on."]

It's probably nothing worth worrying about. She's pretty sure she didn't get that trinket from a rival god of any sort. No more time to waste. She reaches out and wraps her fingers around the simple idol, expecting to be immediately stricken with some sort of terrible power, or perhaps a curse. Instead, she feels nothing at all. It's just a piece of wood, as far as she can tell. Not even an especially well-carved one. Maybe she needs to take it to be properly appraised, but she can't help but feel a sense of disappointment. She wants results now. What good is a dangerous adventure without the instant gratification at the end?

That's when the darkness falls. It comes all at once, as if the sun suddenly plummeted from the sky. In its place rises the moon. Even her feline eyes need a moment to adjust to that change in light. She blinks a few times and looks up to that thin crescent glimmering above her, finding herself shielding her eyes from the sheer luminescence. It's supposedly night. The stars twinkle, the sky is black, but the forest remains illuminated all around her. She can see off into the distance in great detail, her vision weaving through the branches, catching the slightest glimpse of movement. There's someone there. And she needs to get him.

She's not sure where that thought came from, exactly. Just knowing someone's out there spikes her adrenaline and fury into a deadly spiral. How dare he enter this place? It belongs to her. None of that makes sense when she thinks about it, but that doesn't stop the impulses from pumping her full of rage. It's enough to make her stagger, to make her stumble and eventually fall. Her mind goes blank as she blacks out amid the bizarre sensations, left to wonder if she's been inflicted with some sort of curse, a punishment from the fickle goddess, or if everything that's happening to her is the intended gift all along. Maybe this is the power she's been seeking.

When she awakes from that furious stupor, she can feel the night air upon her bare fur. Her clothing lays in ruins, strewn about her body. When she rises, she can feel the heft, the strength in her newly transformed self. The muscle, the agility, the sharpened senses - she's like a true leopardess now, except so much better. Muscular thighs support a thicker rump, a firmer belly, and two truly massive arms that support her nicely when she takes off on all fours towards her prey. The call of the hunt leaves her with the urge to snarl, but she stays perfectly silent as she chases down the intruder, unsure of what she shall even do once she catches him. Operating on pure instinct is enough to keep her going, to compel her to chase and ambush the unsuspecting adventurer before he even knows she's there. It makes no difference to her that she knows him.

Logan proved a reliable lion in the past when they collaborated as a party along with some others. The pale-furred cat stands tall and sturdy, an impressive physical specimen who might normally be too intimidating for her to fight directly. She's not normal anymore. None of those old limits apply. He walks casually, seemingly unaware of the danger right up until she gives that roaring lunge and slams into his body. He ends up tumbling back and rolling with her for a while, shoving and striking at the unknown threat. His blows merely bounce off her hardened were-form. She's a muscular brute where she was once a nimble rogue and she uses that strength to easily pin him down. A threat display of fangs right in his face tells him to stop struggling so much, and he lowers his hands when she blasts him with that piercing snarl.

"Is that ... Mahiri ...?" he manages to murmur out. The fear is evident in his voice. She likes that.

He doesn't get a response, at least not with words. She draws back and then lunges towards his face again, giving some harsh sawing growls, her throat flexing with each one. He remains very still. She doesn't see him blink. Perhaps he's going to be good and behave for her. Maybe she doesn't have to maul him to get her way. Instead, she straightens up atop him, sitting her naked rump on his crotch, starting to grind. That goes along with some forceful rumbles that rattle right through her body and into his. They're absolutely bone-shaking, but certainly stimulating, and more importantly they have the intended effect on him. He's firming up for her, responding exactly how a big cat should when he's around a leopardess in sudden, aching, gripping heat.

Yes, that's exactly what she needs from him. It all clicks into place now. Instinct guided her to that strong, handsome lion for a reason. He might be the only one who can take care of her feral ache. Her pussy glistens in the moonlight, nearly gushing for how wet and tended its growth in his presence. Breathing his scent drives her ferocity, and makes her project a pheromonal perfume all her own. It's overpowering to the point Logan is left blinking, his eyes slightly water, but of course it's entirely pleasant. His voice comes hesitantly while he speaks with his hands raised as if to defend himself from any sudden swipes.

"Ohhh, okay ... good kitty ... I can give you what you want, just please no biting."

Some part of her still understands him, and she feels a rush of defiance at the request. Lunging at him again, she clicks her teeth together inches from his face just to make him flinch. Her teeth don't actually make contact with him, but he yelps all the same, as if in pain. When he peeks out from behind his hands again, he finds her almost grinning at him, in a vicious kind of way. It's a clear message not to keep her waiting any longer. She's not exactly making it easy with all that weight down on his dick, so he's just going to have to reach under her spotty ass to fumble and get his cock out before she decides to strip him herself, with her claws. She's rolling her hips, puffing, snorting, utterly unable to contain the driving heat of her own need. The moment she feels the touch of his bare shaft on her fur, she pounces on him again.

It's almost crushing force that she uses to pin and grind on him. Her head sinks down from his face, to his throat, to his chest. Licking her way down along his body harshly enough to rip his clothing, she trails her way to his exposed sheath and growing shaft and gives them both a few rough slurps. He flinches and grits his teeth, but accepts her attention, especially once she slips his cock and balls alike into her mouth. Having such precious parts framed between her deadly fangs is enough to make him hold extremely still. She rumbles as she sucks, and it's surprisingly pleasant once he gets over the terror of horrible bodily harm. He's certainly not going to stay soft when he has a muscular were-leopard sucking on his cock. Firming up in seconds, he exposes his entire shaft for her to suck, and desperately gasps while she works it over.

That doesn't last long. She's not here to give him a blowjob. She wants him hard for mating, and as soon as she gets what she wants, she lunges once more. This time she really does bite him. He can't do much but tip his head to the side while she catches his whole neck between her teeth. It could have been much worse. She hasn't done any damage yet. Though he can only hope his hips will survive the assault. Squeezing him up between her thighs, she nearly crushes him right there with the grip she has around his waist. A smooth against his shaft makes him huff a little, but that hardly compares to her squealing, shrieking yowl as she suddenly drives herself down on his whole dick at once, ramming it into her soaked pussy in a single lunge. It's a good thing her aim is good.

He's helpless while she fucks herself on his dick. There's not a single movement he can make but for vaguely stroking her rosettes while she takes him on the ride of his life. She doesn't care to be gentle. With a cock pointed at her womb, she drives down with all the force she can possibly muster, even if it means nearly breaking the lion in two. He alternates between moans and pained groans, but he certainly doesn't tell her to stop. Not when she could take his whole head off in a single bite of those sabre fangs. They dig into his throat a little while she takes him, but thankfully don't do too much damage. Mostly, he closes his eyes and does his best to endure, focusing on the pleasure of a flooded, clenching, sweltering leopard cunt all wrapped around his cock. Maybe it's just a little too much focusing.

Oh, no. Absolutely not. Those are the first thoughts through Mahiri's mind when she feels that hot squirt of lion seed come far too early. A reasonable mind might understand that she's been far too rough with him, barely giving him time to breathe, that cumming so quickly is understandable. In her near-feral state, her first thought is kill. That settles down to more just fury and the urge to punish him for his trespass. She lunges up, thankfully not biting any more, instead gnashing her teeth in the air a few times while she grinds on his spurting shaft, trying to at least get a little more pleasure out of him. Mating isn't the only thing she needs. She also requires release. And if he's going to break before he can give it to her, then she's just going to have to think of some other way to use him. Wrenching herself from atop his softening shaft, she bellows her discontented roars, drowning out his murmured apology.

"I'm sorry Mahiri, I don't - just give me a minute!"

She's not hearing any excuses. Sliding away from him, she sits with her thighs spread wide, gaping her pussy before him. His cum pathetically trickles down her folds, hardly enough to satisfy her. Before he can even sit up, she has him by the ankles. A harsh dragging pull brings him closer, presses his paws up against the lips of her cunt. Then another tug, and another. He can't pull away in time. She schlurps his feet right inside her and traps them in a clenching grip. That's when he realizes he's really in trouble. That massive squeeze drags him along the grass, leaving him turning over and crossing his ankles in the process of getting his claws into the dirt to try to stop his progress. The only thing that accomplishes is damaging the goddess' hunting grounds with those deep grooves in the soil.

She doesn't even need to push him in. Her pussy does all the work. It grips him with ferocity all its own, flexing inwards to wetly drag him towards her womb. Her monstrous form is flexible beyond anything natural. It doesn't even make her flinch to consume him with her cunt, even once she's tucking him away in that taut, warm chamber. Her belly slowly expands as she slurps up his calves, then his thighs. He writhes and fusses, but nothing he does can slow her. The ground is far too soft to get a good hold, so he thrashes instead. There's pleasure too. The distracting stroke along his cock as she pulls in his waist and dick makes his breath catch in his throat, makes him close his eyes and forget for a few precious moments that he's being devoured by a pussy. The divine, heated fragrance of her pheromonal scent only drives him deeper into distracted intoxication. Only when the pressure on his chest and middle makes it hard for him to even breathe does he remember he needs to get away at all costs.

Reaching down to try to wrench at her inner thighs and force them apart to loosen her grip, he instead finds himself slipping on her excess juices and squishing his hands right beside his chest. They get pinned to his ribs as she overtakes him to the shoulders. There's nothing but his maned head sticking out of her sex by then. She takes the time to stroke through his mane with her claws, to teasingly pat him on the head, while spurts and jets of her juices cloud his last view of the outside. He gets one last chance to look around at the moonlit realm before all goes dark. Those folds seal up over his muzzle while she tucks him away in her womb completely. There's no choice but to take on a curled up, comfortable position, hugging his knees to his chest, as if he's nothing more than her own offspring. At least that chamber is accommodating.

It lightly flexes around him while she rubs her mound with her whole hand. Grinding the flat of her palm over her folds is a messy, noisy process. All that masturbating makes the heat of his fleshy prison grow all the more intense. It seems at first like a place he could stay for a while, but it's quickly becoming unbearable. He can't do much about it. He's curled up in its ungiving hold, drenched and fragrant with her lust. That aroma pumps through his mind until he finds himself sharing in her pleasure. It merges with him. They are one body, one mind, one building ecstasy. No longer worrying about the heat, he instead joins her in squirming, moaning, his cock throbbing up against his abs. It's just like he told her, all he needed was a minute or two to recover and he could have given more. But this will have to do instead. The heat of her rising bliss is enough to leave him choking on the air around him, nearly boiling in her juices, but none of it prevents him from getting off one last time for her.

Cumming directly into her womb just makes the heat that much more intense, even unbearable. He can feel himself being scorched, boiled, cooked within her while he wriggles about. The leopard coos as she strokes over her swollen middle, looking almost motherly for a moment, but her demeanour swiftly swaps back to furious when her pleasure nears its peak. The flexes of impending climax squish around the lion firmly enough that he can't help but notice how much he's softening. He's getting flattened down, smoothed over, assimilated with the very juices that soak into every single part of his body. A part of her essence, a little more with every single squeeze. The leopard loses herself in bellowing snarls, shouting them straight up to the sky as if in prayer to her goddess. And all the while, her pregnant-looking tummy shrinks back down, smooths over, returns to its previously hardened, muscular look as before. The lion gives a stifled gasp, a wet gurgle, and then twitches his last, caught up in orgasmic eruption, blanking out entirely right before the beast's release.

Those pressurized jets of femjuice soar across the forest, splattering the nearby trees, painting a perimeter in her lustful flavour and scent alike. This is her territory now, and she'll cum all over it as much as she likes. Pumping her hips, she slaps her cunt against her hand, crudely grinding her way through that quivering orgasm. Her pussy flexes, pumps, tightens, clamps around nothing in particular, and all the while she pours out what must be gallons of former lion in the form of thick, steaming hot juices. She makes a puddle out of everything Logan used to be, paints her thighs, leaves herself panting and drooling heavily in the aftermath of that fatal release. Snuffing out a single life seems a small price to pay for such a heavenly experience. Truly it's an orgasm worthy of the gods, a gift from her new patron. There was no curse. This has always been a blessing from the moment it began.

A normal creature might rest after a release like that. Mahiri is far too motivated to lie back now. She rises to a squat and gives a squeeze, ejecting the softened, smooth bones of her prey as one complete skeleton. Maybe she could have melted those down too, but she's too impatient for that. Besides, the lion doesn't deserve to be inside her any longer. She rejects him for his failure to satisfy her, letting his bones clatter down with a splursh of juices. They're left to glisten in the moonlight, with a few scraps of fur and clothing alike left swaying in the breeze left behind by the leopard's sudden exit. She still aches, she still blazes with jaw-clenching desire, and she will find someone to breed her properly. Even if it means breaking and devouring a dozen victims until she finds the one. That is her existence now, her life of adventure and material pursuits left behind in favour of pure, animal instinct and base desires. She found the power she was looking for, and she doesn't bother to consider if it's what she wanted when it feels this good.

THE END