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Indira knew the past couldn’t remain buried forever. Even in her advancing age she remained constantly vigilant. She kept in constant touch with a web of shadowy contacts, and she trained her body to the highest of standards, knowing a confrontation was someday inevitable. It wasn’t for her own preservation that she did so. She had people to care about now. They would come to no harm as long as she watched over them. And so, when she caught word that a deadly foe from years past had reemerged from the shadows, she could not ignore the news, even if she long since thought him dead. It was warm in her face-concealing cowl, but a necessary precaution. She didn’t want him to know who he was dealing with too soon.

The gryphon’s trail was clear enough. He lurked somewhere in the woods, some miles out of the city limits. The tigress stayed low, almost crawling as she stalked through the grass, moving only in the shadows, keeping the rustling wind in her face to ensure her scent stayed concealed. Now and then she stopped to examine a fallen feather, turning the crimson remnant of his passing over in her palm. The scent was familiar to her, painting a path to her target as she followed it to the source. All those years later, and she remembered their close encounter. Neither of them ended up hurt - but that was what made it linger in her memory. He had seen her face, even duelled with her, and they were evenly matched enough that neither could overcome the other. Few who ever fought her directly could ever speak of it. She needed to know why he was visiting, first of all. The more confrontational steps could wait until she learned more of his goals.

There was someone else there, too. She found bits of chocolatey brown fur caught in nearby branches, but more obviously than that, she heard someone in the distance. It was a shrill, rapid cry, sounding almost like laughter. And it was getting closer. In a smooth, flowing motion, she scaled the nearest tree and hid herself among the branches, holding perfectly still, not even breathing for a time as the noisy figure approached. It wasn’t a cry or a scream emitting from the other like a siren. It was more of a cackle. Indira recognized that manic laughter well, though just because it sounded like amusement didn’t mean the owner of such a voice wasn’t in trouble. Hyenas were confusing like that. She narrowed her eyes and watched until the cause of such cacophony burst from the brush and sprinted into sight, accompanied by the scent of exertion and - arousal. There was no mistaking it.

It made a lot more sense when she realized who it was. Yes, she knew of this certain small-framed spotty girl and her particular interests. After the [i]incident[/i], she had learned well that the silly creature did not actually need immediate rescuing even when it sounded like she was in danger. A certain level of fear inspired unfathomable lust, to the point she would make deals with dangerous creatures just to get her fix. But did she understand what sort of cunning killer she was dealing with? Just to be certain, the tigress remained in the tree, totally undetected as Keedee staggered along, panting hard enough she had to bend double and catch her breath. It was right at that moment, when she was at her most vulnerable, bent over with tail lifted high, that the gryphon pounced on her from above the trees, swooping down with a flap of leathery wings and taking the excitable hyena to the ground between his front paws.

Perhaps ‘gryphon’ wasn’t the most precise word for him. The colourful hybrid was at least part bird and another part cat, but he had other things mixed in to his genetics that made him uniquely deadly. His red feathered head was framed by a thick black mane similar to a lion’s, though his facial features were more avian. A pointed beak gave him the dignified intensity of a hawk or eagle, but two protruding fangs were like that of a snake. He wrapped his catch up in the leathery embrace of wings like those of a bat, rather than the usual feathered sort. But most dangerous of all was the pointed stringer at the end of his feline tail, as if there was a trace of scorpion mixed in with all the other creatures that made up his unique appearance. Perhaps he was closer to a manticore than a gryphon. She had never quite bothered to decide what exactly to call him. But there was no doubt he was the very same creature she had faced down decades ago. She knew that by his regal hues, all red and black and gold, like he was made to sit by the throne of emperors. But judging by his dusty, somewhat dishevelled appearance and scars, he had not served in a royal court for some time.

She kept a careful eye on the proceedings to ensure the young hyena wasn’t in any real danger. The sort she didn’t welcome, anyway. She was foolish to take pleasure in such things, certainly, but it was not for Indira to judge. The scent of arousal was clear. Even as the beast tackled her to the ground and viciously pinned her, she cackled with delight, oozed with lust, and welcomed every single part of the apparent assault. No doubt they had spoken together beforehand, and arranged this exact sort of meeting. There was no need to interfere, even as the mantigryph tore the clothing from the wriggling hyena’s body - and then promptly put an end to her squirming by sinking a single fang into her neck. A shallow bite, to be certain, barely a nip, but given he was one of the most venomous beings Indira had ever encountered, it was enough. If Keedee was truly willing to be subjected to such treatment, then this was a good, guilt-free opportunity to silently observe the effects such a toxin had on a living body. She just hoped it wasn’t painful for poor Kee.

Judging by the moans, it certainly wasn’t. Keedee’s movements ceased almost entirely, but for her mouth. She remained breathing, and it seemed none of her vital functions had shut down, but she couldn’t move. The hybrid toyed with her, nudging her with his beak, lifting her with a paw to let her flop back down to the dirt. She was entirely helpless, a prisoner in her own body. Indira narrowed her eyes as she watched the creature lick his captive. By the sounds emitting from the hyena’s mouth - a mix of screams, cackles, and the usual moans of ecstasy - she was enjoying the attention. And more importantly, she could feel it. Maybe more than usual. Or perhaps that was just how loud she normally was. Either way, there was no need to intervene. Indira stayed right in place and watched the entire process of the mantigryph toying with, tasting, and pleasuring his prey. It served well to teach her about the habits and movements of her potential enemy. She observed how he balanced his weight, the way his musculature tightened and relaxed with even the smallest motion, how often he breathed while he played with the envenomed hyena. But if pressed, she couldn’t have concealed just how flustered the sight was making her. Especially once he started fucking his fallen prey.

This, she watched in silence as the minutes rolled by, listening to the juicy [i]plap[/i] of feral balls to Keedee’s helpless form. Her constant noise drowned out much else, projected seemingly without pausing for breath as she whooped and laughed her way to orgasm, after orgasm. Sometimes she appeared to lose consciousness for a brief time, only to snap back awake and make just as much noise as ever. Though even she had her limits. Indira watched her being ravaged by the beast for the better part of an hour. Sometimes she bit her lip as she observed them mutually orgasming. Her finely-tuned senses allowed her to [i]hear[/i] when the mantigryph came inside of the hyena. And as for Kee, she frequently squirted when she climaxed. Maybe she was just naturally that wet, or maybe he really was that adept at pleasuring her. At least the scents of sex were sure to conceal the tigress’ own. She couldn’t suppress her arousal after watching in almost complete stillness for that long. There was a part of her, some strange thought in the back of her mind, that imagined what it might feel like to be the one on the ground. Paralyzed. Helpless. Completely at the mercy of someone else, unable to fight or slip away. She found herself grateful for her cowl, lest the heat in her cheeks somehow show right through her fur.

The finale of the pairing involved the hybrid opening his beak wide, giving Keedee an ample glimpse into its depths, even drooling on her for a time. Then he snatched her up and proceeded to swallow her whole, tossing her into the air as she flopped about, still completely unable to move. Indira almost moved to strike then. Such a sudden change of pace put her on guard - but she knew there was magic in creatures such as gryphons. She’d seen that young girl devoured before, and she always showed up another day as if nothing had ever happened. Though there was still a part of her that doubted such. Maybe death didn’t mean what it used to, back in the prime of her career, but it still made her wary to see her former rival indulging in such a thing. Had he tricked Kee into thinking all was safe, and that the usual reformation, or whatever it was called, was a given when he was truly playing for keeps? Indira didn’t have any way of knowing, but for the slight tingle of her sixth sense. There was magic in the air as he swallowed that spotty girl, muffling her excited giggling with a commanding gulp and an indulgent slurp. The cum-bloated form of the naked hyena swelled the mantigryph’s middle, sagging him to the point of near-instant lethargy, leaving him to flop down on his side and prepare to nap. It was the perfect time for the tigress to make her appearance.

She made her descent from the branch in utter silence, hardly disturbing the grass when she landed. It was like she became weightless for a moment, falling not due to the tug of gravity, but her own willpower. Remaining low, she approached in a feral crawl, stalking towards the resting hybrid, listening to his pleased huffs and groans while he digested his meal. Rapidly. Indira could hear the noisy churning and hissing from a distance, his stomach working aggressively to metabolize his spotty prey. She could see the bulge flattening. His belly tightened up and smoothed over as if Keedee had never even been there, but for the slight paunch she left him with. It made a strange sort of sense that someone as venomous as he was might have ruthlessly efficient stomach acids to match. By the time she was close enough to cast a shadow over him, he’d closed his eyes, ready to sleep, only to perk up an ear the moment he heard her clear her throat.

He moved slowly to regard her, flopping from one side to the other like a lazy cat, flashing her a gaze of crimson and gold.

“Indira. That is your real name, is it not? When I caught your scent, I told myself my mind was playing tricks on me.”

She held her ground, crouching low, in case she needed to pounce towards him - or away from him - at any moment. His demeanour might have been friendly, but that could easily have been a ruse. She remained stern.

“And what do they call you now?”

“The old names and titles are gone. I’ve been going by Roma. Do you like it?”

“Hm.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Why so guarded? I am pleased to see a familiar - if concealed - face.”

Indira shook her head. “The girl. She will be alright?”

Roma slowly nodded. “Of course. All the precautions. What an exquisite feast she is. And so excited to be a meal. I shall have to have her over for dinner again someday.”

He regarded her for a time, narrowed his eyes, and put on a playful smile, as best a beak was able.

“What troubles you so much? Do you think … “ He stopped, shook his head, and laughed. “Indi. If I may call you such. I am not here for you.”

“Hm,” was her only response.

“I understand we have had our … conflicts, in the past. On more than one occasion. But those were merely professional exchanges. We were doing our job. And I am far too old for grudges.”

Beneath her mask, she cracked a slight smile. “You are more forgiving than most. That does not explain why you have made your way here, of all places.”

“The lush forests are a pleasant change from the desert, I must say. So too are the beaches. They have sharks! I love sharks.” He winked at her, but when he still hadn’t managed to break her stoicism, he spoke more seriously. “I promise you, I have left that life long behind. I am a prince without a kingdom, a simple man in the dust and dirt. It makes me happy to see you well, truly.”

Indira straightened up, folding her arms over her chest. Such a pose might have seemed standoffish, but among professionals, it was more peaceful. It meant she wasn’t preparing to attack at any moment.

“Hm,” she said once more, and only then did she relax her tensed muscles somewhat. “You understand how it is. The vengeful could be anywhere.”

“Mmhmm. A similar feeling followed me from place to place. But that is no way to live. Might we start over? Forget about the past. We are but two old friends, we shall say. And besides …”

He made a show of raising his head and sniffing the air, even flicking his tongue out like a snake, sampling the scent drifting on the gentle wind.

“Did you enjoy the show, Indira? Forgive me for mentioning, but your lust has … overtaken me. I might have noticed you were watching earlier if I was not so distracted by that spotted treat.”

The smile concealed beneath her cowl was subtle, but it reached her eyes well enough for him to notice.

“Perhaps. I will admit. You do fine work. I have not forgotten our battles. There are very few who have ever fought me to a draw. And that’s …”

For once, she hadn’t carefully chosen her words ahead of time. She didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He cut in for her.

“That’s …? What might that be?” He planted his paws and raised his head, looking instantly more like the royal creature he once was. “Intriguing? Memorable? [i]Arousing?[/i]”

He licked a paw, flicking his tongue back and forth rapidly. Then he continued.

“I admit, I have thought about our fights on more than one heated night alone. I wondered to myself - how would it have felt to win? To [i]defeat[/i] someone as deadly as you? What might I have [i]done[/i] with you once you were subdued by my venom?”

Indira made a sound. It wasn’t clear what it was. A huff, or even a scandalized gasp. She was not usually struck to silence, and when she cleared her throat to speak, she found herself briefly fumbling.

“That is not - you would not …” She stopped, pursed her lips, and carried on more confidently. “If we had more time, I would have won.”

“Perhaps. I am teasing you, yes. But you know - in these modern times of magic and wonder, there is much you can recover from. Take this hyena for instance.” He nodded down to his shrunken gut. “I have already digested her. And yet I shall likely see her again soon. Truly a marvel, isn’t it?”

“Make your point,” she firmly said. Though those who knew her well would have heard the subtly flirtatious tone underscoring her every word.

“Yes, well. You have been staying sharp. And I am venomous as ever. Perhaps chance has brought us together so that we might settle things at last? Not out of spite or enduring grudges, but merely the curiosity. Now we might finally discover which of us is [i]better.[/i]”

She blinked. “Are you suggesting we duel?”

“Indeed! Though I ask you please refrain from pouncing me just yet. I will admit I am a touch vulnerable at present after such exertion. You will have to permit me a rest first. But if you are interested …” He paused to regard her expression, what little he could see. “What would you say you make your preparations, and meet me on this very spot, when the cock first crows tomorrow?”

Finally, she felt the heat in her cheeks proving uncomfortable. She reached up and unmasked before him, letting her locks of black spill to her shoulders. The streaks of white had not been there the last time they met, decades ago. Nor had the lines on her face, or the general wear of age. Nonetheless, when he saw her face again, his eyes lit up. He straightened his back and rose to a seated position, gazing down on her with an expression so mesmerized it made her blush. More than she already was.

“You have hardly aged a day, Indira.”

“I have aged [i]many[/i] days, but thank you.”

“Perhaps I was not clear enough. I have walked this planet for longer than a century. I have witnessed empires form and crumble alike, walked the scorching sands and the frozen tundra, mingled with the richest and the poorest, indulged in pleasures exotic even to the most travelled connoisseur, and yet for all I have seen, I have not seen one quite so striking, so exquisite as the azure tigress standing before me.”

He was a flatterer, no doubt. If his goal was to get her flustered, he was succeeding. Yet still, the competitive side of her couldn’t resist an unexpected riposte, just to throw him off. She uncharacteristically stuck her tongue out at him and spoke in a teasing tone.

“And you’re alright, I guess.”

He tossed his head back and laughed raucously.

“As stubborn as ever! Well. I will say this, Indira. It would be my absolute honour to fight you to the death, as temporarily as it may be. Should you win, you are free to inflict whatever harm you see fit. But if I gain the advantage …” He lowered his head to her level, narrowing his eyes. “I shall have my way. Just as you witnessed. But perhaps even more thoroughly.”

“Very well,” she simply said, verbally shrugging to contrast his intensity. This, all despite being soaking wet with desire for him. His scent, his exotic colours, and the sheer danger which his presence carried - it did something to her. She was always in control, always on top, always the most dangerous one in the room. Yet around him, she found herself feeling that unusual vulnerability she so rarely experienced. And she liked it. “Tomorrow it is.”

He simply left her with his smile, devious and flirty, full of implications. Though as soon as her back was turned, he allowed himself a yawn. He [i]did[/i] just have a very filling dinner after an exhausting romp of sex. A nap was certainly in order, especially if he was going to be ready for her the next day. And as for the tigress, she departed the way she came, this time not darting through the shadows, but simply walking softly on silent paws, breathing in the forest air, and fighting down the tremble between her thighs. Discipline told her to ignore such sensations, but indulgence told her to let them linger, to nurture them and hold onto them, so that they might grow into something even greater, into something she so rarely got to feel. The thought of being naked, paralyzed, completely his, it made her drip - but she wasn’t just going to let him win. That would have ruined the whole thing. No, it only turned her on to imagine fighting him with the utmost effort to slay him, only to fall short. She would find out tomorrow if he could truly earn her.

Once she returned to her modest home, it was time to prepare. She had not gone through her routine in some time, but it felt as familiar as breathing. There was no rush. She had long since trained herself to not need much sleep, content with extended meditation when she needed to calm down for a time. First, a good meal, followed by some tea, and then she got herself dressed. A tight-fitting outfit of simple black cloth was befitting of a ninja, though she did tend to correct those who referred to her as such. Those were something else. Tying her salt-and-pepper hair in a tight bun ensured it wouldn’t interfere with the fight to come. After that came the process of binding her breasts. Busty as she was, she did find them something of a burden if left unchecked. Tightly squeezing them as flat as she could make them ensured they were less cumbersome than usual. Then she prepared her weapons.

It was not a joke. She did not intend to smack him with training blades if he gave her an opening. If it was going to be proper, if it was going to feel [i]right[/i], for them both, then she could hold nothing back. That meant arming herself to the teeth, almost literally. Some knives were obvious. Others were more concealed. And one of them, kept in a hidden sheath on her lower back, she coated in a blackened concoction that clung to the steel and never dried. All it would take was a single nick. Perhaps a deeper one than usual, if he was resistant to the poison. But she had no doubt it would work, and surely would revel in the irony of beating him with such a thing, if she got the chance.

After that, all that remained was ingesting her usual substances. It was something of an addiction, those brews and formulas that she created to keep her sharp, but one far less harmful than most. Drinking something made partly from cobra venom, swirled in with crushed up roots and wild flowers she’d picked herself might have seemed dangerous. She was used to it. Once the cool concoction settled inside of her, she felt her heart rate rising, felt her breath quickening, her muscles going tense and her mind racing with a brief sense of alarm. Then all was calm again, and she found herself steadied, focused, and clear of intrusive thoughts. She took a position by the open window with her legs crossed beneath her, straightened her back, and closed her eyes. Her mind became uncoupled from her body, viewing from outside, drifting among the stars and shadows of the passing night. She did not dream, nor did she ever become fully unaware of the passing moonlight on her face. The rain started early, pattering upon the windowsill, filling her lungs with a damp scent until she awoke from her half-sleep, mentally and physically refreshed, feeling as if mere minutes had passed by. She rose to her feet and checked her armaments once more. Everything was in place.

The only anomaly was the slight rosiness that remained in her cheeks. Even a night away from those seductive thoughts hadn’t cooled her down. They returned to her mind, disturbing her perfect calm, keeping her from total stillness. It was an irritant unlike any she’d ever experienced before a contract. She was used to being able to shut off, to block out certain feelings, but these simply would not go away. Again and again, she created an explicit mental picture of what that deadly hybrid might do with her if she were to slip up for even a moment. She was resistant to many venoms, completely immune to others, but she had never experienced what ran through the mantigryph’s fangs. Only witnessed it. Sometimes, when she let her thoughts truly wander, she mentally put herself in the position of that fallen, paralyzed hyena, completely unable to move, yet feeling every single little detail. And when she tried to push out such images, she instead pictured Roma’s smug and handsome face, leering down at her in that way only gryphons could. Such reactions he caused in her body. But still - her resolve remained. She would not let him have it, unless he earned it. And she wouldn’t hesitate to harm him if he should prove too slow to impress. Her blades were sharp. And so were her claws.

When she saw him, she had to wonder if he’d even moved since last they met. He remained sprawled on his side, soaking in the constant rain, only rolling over once he sensed her approach. She’d been moving quietly, but not silently. Perhaps she could have ambushed him from the advantage, but that was not the point. Her usual stealthy ways meant it had been far too long since she’d had a proper duel. Just to be absolutely clear about her intent, she unsheathed a blade from her hip. And then a second, for the other hand. Roma chortled at that.

“Knives hm? And here I thought we might go to it hand to hand. Claw to claw. Fang to fang.”

“We did not agree to that.”

“Very well, very well. I suppose it’s only fair.” He raised a front foot, extending those feline blades of his. With her keen eyesight, she could make out the light coating of venom clinging to every single one of them. “I have a distinct advantage in terms of natural weapons, don’t I?”

He gave an ostentatious feline stretch, lowering his head and raising his hindquarters, even closing his eyes for a moment. It was not an opening. She knew that much by the bobbing of his stinger-tail, raised high and pointed directly at her. He was daring her to move so that he might strike with the advantage. She did not, even when he made a show of stifling a yawn, showing her his wet fangs in the process of gaping his pointed beak wide open.

“In any case, let us begin our dance. I find myself in need of breakfast.”

Still she did not move. Her muscles remained tense, ready. She hardly blinked. Neither did he. They locked gazes for a time, until his expression finally faltered into amusement. That was when he stepped to the side, suddenly lunging to the left. She counted by stepping to the right, and with that, they were locked into a circle, staring each other down, neither of them daring to make the first attack. She could see his eyes scanning over her. Perhaps he was scanning for weaknesses, for imbalance, but he wouldn’t find them. Or maybe he was simply examining her curves. She [i]did[/i] choose an outfit that hugged them tightly, but that was merely for the sake of ensuring her clothing didn’t interfere with her movements. Plus, the simple fabric held many hidden pockets that weren’t immediately obvious, cushioning her concealed blades and keeping them from prodding her as she dodged around the agile gryphon.

His first lunge was just a test. She could tell that much. He telegraphed it so obviously that there was no way she couldn’t have moved out of the way in time as he pounced the spot where she was, moments ago. The true attack came in the form of his stinger, lashing behind him, plunging towards her chest until she bent backwards and let it sail over her head. It was agile, that appendage. He moved it as if it were prehensile, madly stabbing the empty air with that venom-tipped tail. She rolled out of the way and was quickly on her feet again. Their deadlock resumed, staring each other down, circling, waiting for the precise moment. He’d been close. But she knew his tricks now. Or at least one of them.

“Flexible for your age,” he teased. “You have [i]hardly[/i] lost a step in the years since our last meeting.”

The way he phrased it, he made it clear he thought her slower than before. But she was not to be rattled by such taunting. Instead, she seized the opportunity, pouncing upon that brief moment where his guard was down, expecting her rebuttal. Instead, he got a slash just short of his ear. He managed to tip his head out of the way just in time, but she came ever so close to nicking him, her blades whooshing by. She knew he heard that. Her momentum meant she was briefly at a disadvantage, but she avoided his counterattack by leaping away. That left him close to pricking himself with his own stinger, thought he pulled it taut just before he could. From there, he advanced, sensing she was still recovering from the moment, coming in with a criss-cross of poisoned claws that might well have sliced her in half if she wasn’t quick enough to slide away, skidding on the wet grass as the rain kept pouring, drenching their battle in the scent of sodden forest. The lack of traction didn’t bother her. They missed each other and returned to neutral, caught up in their deadly exchange, neither side gaining any sort of advantage. His words remained as competitive as ever.

“I confess, I am impressed. There aren’t many who move as swiftly as me. But how long will it take until you tire, I wonder?”

She did not earn her reputation by talking. She struck again, drawing the concealed weapon on the small of her back and propelling herself forward from an apparent rest position. It might have looked to an outside observer that she had violated the laws of physics, directing her weight forward without any respect to how momentum worked. He saw it coming, but it didn’t matter. She had him. There was no way he could move such a bulky body out of the way in time, even as he dodged away with a flap of his leathery wings. She felt her poisoned blade meet flesh, causing little more than a shallow wound that he might have hardly felt. But by the time she had lunged past him, the substance coating her blades was in his veins. Now she just had to turn, and see how his body reacted to that.

“Ow,” he said, sounding as if scandalized by her attack. “The tigress has claws, as they say. And a little extra to her strikes too, hm? I don’t recognize it.”

He wasn’t wearing an expression of concern, if that was what she hoped for. When he went so far as to draw his forked tongue over the small cut, sampling the concoction she’d shared with him, she knew it wasn’t effective.

“Attempting to poison me? Surely you must have known that wouldn’t work. I have tasted a thousand toxins in the food of various rulers, and none have ever harmed me. This one is … interesting. Your own creation?”

His curiosity was genuine. Though she still wasn’t going to let that distract her. While he spoke, she moved a hand to another of her hidden blades, grasping it with just a finger and a thumb before tossing it directly towards his face. It might not have been a fatal strike, but it certainly would have given her the advantage. He deflected it with a claw, then gave her that same wicked smile.

“Please. That will be enough. It is already over, Indira.”

She furrowed her brow at him, reaching for another knife, but this time, she found it harder. It was like she was moving underwater, feeling a strange resistance in the air, an odd sensation of weakness, or fatigue. But it couldn’t have been what she thought. She didn’t feel a thing. Yet when she followed the direction of his gaze with her fingers, she eventually found it. The slightest thing, the smallest mark on her shoulder, yet enough to get through clothing and skin alike. Perhaps she ought to have worn more armour against such a venomous beast. But that he might injure her, even nick her slightly was so unheard of it couldn’t possibly have been true. She internally denied it even as her legs began to wobble beneath her.

“I am not being condescending when I say I am amazed at how long you are enduring this. Most would be helplessly sprawled in seconds. Yet you stand there, still balancing on your own two feet. I have never seen anything like it.” Roma tipped his head to the side and gave her a friendly smile. “A bit of a venom addict, are we? I know a taster when I see one.”

He waited patiently as she struggled to stand. She had never felt so weak, so vulnerable, so utterly unable to control her body. There was no dizziness. Her stomach felt fine. Though her heart was accelerating, warmth spreading through her body. It reached down her arm, then spread throughout her chest, her middle. When it reached her loins, she grew suddenly, excessively wet with all the lust she’d suppressed until then. Nothing went numb. She wasn’t being paralyzed, exactly. That would have meant she couldn’t breathe, or speak. Every part of her body remained functional, but her muscles simply refused to cooperate. They wouldn’t support her any longer. Her knees buckled, and she pitched forward, falling clumsily, inelegantly into the grass with a thud and a gasp. It was the least tigress-like movement she had ever made, she found herself thinking as she lay there flat on her face, unable to even push her muzzle out of the dirt.

Roma moved to shadow her collapsed form in moments, nudging her on the shoulder to roll her over. She blinked as the rain pattered on her face briefly, only to find herself sheltered by the mantigryph standing over her. The venom still worked through her veins as she reclined. The feeling of weakness gave way to a tingle, and a sensitivity. She felt his breath on her face as he loomed, warming her, making that blush in her cheeks all the more intense. And then there was the richly flooded mess that was her pussy. She felt like she was diving right back into a youthful heat, aching with sudden need. Every breath she took came perfumed by his exotic scent. He was unlike anything she’d ever breathed. And such enticing musk only grew warmer, thicker with every passing moment. She could see his sheath, bobbing, swelling, filling out with his barbed shaft as it pushed forth into the open air. He wasn’t the only one enjoying her incapacitated state. Leaning close, he pressed his beak right up against one of her ears, flicking his tongue along its outer edges before speaking a sultry whisper right inside.

“You let me win. Didn’t you?”

Despite her flopped state, she could speak just fine. “No.”

“Come now. I am honoured that you find me so attractive. That you would [i]give[/i] yourself to me like this. But truly, that was the best you could do? Even years later, I doubt it.” A devious grin lit up his face as he raised his head and gazed into her eyes. “Perhaps it was subconscious. A hidden part of you that wanted nothing more than to [i]lose[/i], to fall in battle, to be [i]defeated[/i] by something dangerous. Like me.”

Licking along the edges of his beak produced a wet sound that was oddly stimulating to her heightened senses. Her scalp tingled with a spark of pleasure. He went on.

“Well, there’s no going back now. You’re mine. And I am going to have [i]such[/i] fun with this soft, helpless body of yours …”

He moved with precision and restraint, touching her as lightly as possible, toying with her heightened senses. She basked in his presence, in his feral scent, his body heat, feeling it all driving her deeper and deeper into a state of animal lust. The urge to snarl, to pounce, to [i]take[/i] what she needed from him welled up in her muscles, leaving her fingers and toes alike faintly twitching. That was the most she could do to show it. His venom was apparently more than paralyzing. It had a richly intoxicating, aphrodisiac effect, heightening her sense of touch until even the slightest brush of his paws over her form, the most modest of gropes enough to feel near-orgasmic in her envenomed state. It was enough to make her almost drool, simply to breathe in his sultry presence, huffing down a rich, exotic musk unlike any she’d ever savoured before. It was a good thing she could still use her tongue to lick the wetness from her lips. She wouldn’t want to have [i]embarrassed[/i] herself.

Her usual stoicism broke when he pressed a broad paw down on one of her breasts. While her bosom was still relatively flat, restrained by the binding beneath her clothing, that didn’t make those fine tigress tits any less sensitive to the touch. She felt the sound leap from her, as if escaping from the prison of her throat. Parting her lips, baring her teeth, she [i]moaned[/i] out loud for nothing more than a soft squeeze of her confined bust. Roma arched his beak in amusement at the noise, going right ahead and pressing his paw down even more firmly on that sensitive part of her. Though for now, he was gentle. He was examining her silhouette, brushing poison-tipped claws along the outlines of her curves, running over her shoulders and her sides, taking in the shape of the mature tigress, humming to himself as he worked. When he was done inspecting her from shoulders to toes, he clicked his beak and gave an approving nod.

“How do you keep such a seductive figure at your age, Indira? Have you made a deal with demons? Traded away your soul to preserve your youthful beauty?”

The way he said it, he was both teasing her and genuinely complimenting her all at once. A sudden lunge had him planting his paws on either side of her shoulders, shoving his face inches away from her own, breathing his words into her mouth.

“And to think, I have waited [i]decades[/i] just to claim you all to myself … I wonder if you’ve been thinking of me for just as long? Dreaming of this, growing wet between the thighs just to imagine being totally mine. There’s not a single thing you can do about it now …”

Though her heart pounded with the rising excitement of falling into such a submissive situation, she couldn’t help but throw out some of her usual feisty spark.

“Isn’t there?”

That just made the gryph laugh.

“Hah! Perhaps. I might even stop, if you tell me to. But will you, knowing all you’d miss out on? Especially after such a long wait, so many years of [i]juicy[/i] anticipation …”

As he emphasized that word, he dipped his head down between her thighs. She was still clothed, but that was hardly protection against the heat of his breath. Flicking his forked tongue between her legs, he drew in her pheromonal scent, swallowing it down and giving a long, satisfied sigh.

“I admit. My venom does tend to enhance arousal. But it can’t cause it from nothing.” Looking up and locking eyes with her from between her legs, he lowered his voice to an even deeper register. “You were already horny as soon as we started our duel.”

“Nonsense,” she insisted.

“Is it?” He licked his beak, slowly, keeping her in agonizing anticipation of his next words. “I could smell your approach. Silky, sultry, truly seductive. Such a want you have. And it’s only getting stronger.”

Working his tongue along her clothed body, he drank the rain from her clothing, before moving to her exposed throat. She could twitch slightly, but she couldn’t even tip her head down to protect her from the ticklish slurps he gave her, working along her exposed fur until he caught the tip of his hooked beak in the collar of her outfit, starting to tear the fabric. That meant revealing the tiny hilt of a hidden blade, which made him pause and withdraw briefly, only to continue on with a soft laugh.

“Such dangers you conceal. Shall I find any other surprises while I strip you bare? A dagger in your cleavage? A sabre down your spine? Razorblades between your toes?”

The tigress could not help a small smile.

“Find out for yourself.”

“Dangerous. Just how I like them,” he teased, and then began to tug, shredding through her thin garment, exposing her bound breasts. “And not a single piece of armour on you. Surely you realize now the folly of such a thing when matching up against an extraordinarily venomous creature as myself? Unless you truly thought yourself untouchable. Which is, evidently, not true.”

One he spotted that taut binder, he caught it with its beak and plucked it from her breasts, letting them spring forth, spilling into the open air. They seemed to double in size all at once, filling out to their usual round, hefty shape. Nudging them, he let his feathers brush against her exposed teats, making them perk, bringing a gasp out of her. The only way she could save face was to let that rising moan instead become a snarl. It wasn’t much of one, but at least she was still acting like a tigress. One of her arms lifted from the ground for a moment when she put in a sincere effort to swipe at him like a feisty feline, but it thumped back down to the grass a moment later. Still, it caught his attention, making him pause in cleaving through her minimal outfit to glance at that twitching limb.

“You are a tough cat, aren’t you? Most are completely motionless, unable to even squirm. Yet your body fights on, almost as if you think you might still have a chance of escape, or even victory.”

Then he accelerated in his stripping her, working down to her hips, revealing her sex. He didn’t pause there just yet, moving all the way down, until all that remained of her outfit was a pair of ruined sleeves clinging to her wrists and ankles. He wasn’t content with that. Working his beak with surprising precision, he made sure that not a single scrap of fabric remained on her striped body, pulling them away, ripping when he needed to, leaving her utterly bare beneath him as he loomed once more. Her eyes darted back and forth to follow the path of his wriggling tongue, watching it flicking like a snake’s as he took in her scent, fully exposed to her. He breathed deeply, slowly, even closing his eyes as he puffed his chest up with a deep inhalation, holding the air in his lungs before sighing it out and opening his eyes once more to give her a fond gaze.

“Such a sweet aroma. Your pheromones are crying out to me, even if you don’t. It has been too long since you were deeply, richly [i]rutted[/i] by a wild beast, hm? I can taste your need in the air.”

He flicked his tongue again, breathing of her, then came down to her neckline, slathering her with those smooth slurps. Working back and forth, he licked her throat from shoulder to shoulder, then flicked up to the underside of her chin, tasting her as thoroughly as possible. Every single patch of fur got treated to his saliva while he sampled her, only continuing on once she was wearing a coating of mantigryph spit from her chin to her collarbone. She wondered if it too was venomous. His fangs brushed lightly along her chest as he moved on to her breasts. The smallest touches bordered on overstimulating, as long as she was in that heightened state. She could feel the most minute of details, from the texture of his tongue, to the spit clinging to her fur as he delved down into her cleavage, taking the taste from her fur. She fought the urge to cry out, biting her lip, but the need to moan was simply too powerful even for her. A heated [i]mrowlll[/i] spilled from her dark lips as he licked her breasts, the pleasure she took from even simple brushes of his tongue amplified by the toxin swimming through her veins. For all she’d ingested, all the immunities she’d trained over the years, his venom remained potent and enticingly effective. She had no idea when she might be able to move again. If there even was an antidote.

“Your flavours are exquisite, tigress. For all I have ever sampled, yours in its own. Uniquely delectable. I will give you what you need, in time. But not until I have taken every single taste from your luscious stripes that I can.”

He was not joking about that. She felt his tongue working over her sensitive breasts, toying with her nipples, letting them perk until they were tingling to his every lick. When she couldn’t arch her back or toss her head, she simply closed her eyes, not caring anymore how she sounded. She moaned as much as she liked, occasionally letting out something more befitting of a tigress, something more vicious when his tongue worked her tender areola in the perfect way. That forked appendage was flexible, but strong too, putting pressure onto her soft tits, squishing inwards, licking towards the rapid beating of her heart. Her breathing grew faster, shakier, rattling as he pleasured her with nothing more than his tongue. She wasn’t sure how long he lingered there upon her breasts, savouring them, soaking them, even drooling upon them. He had no need to be dignified when he’d already won. The rest was simply a matter of claiming his prize, one fork-tongued slurp at a time. Indira could feel the muscles in her body tensing as he at last moved from her bosom to her belly, swiping over her taut middle on the way to the flood of heated lust between her thighs. He took his time. And it was driving her mad.

A fang-clenched yowl escaped her, her eyes narrowed as she fought against the paralysis, trying her very best to at least display her urgency, in case the sweltering heat rising from her sex wasn’t evidence enough. If she could move, she could have seized control, could have [i]demanded[/i] what she needed from him. But he was all hers to play with and use however he liked. She trembled in dripping anticipation while he inched every closer to her cunt with the swirling motions of his tongue, diving into the divots of her stomach muscles, trailing to the thicker fur just above her pussy. A huff of approval escaped him as he drank in his first sample of her juices. He swallowed audibly, letting her watch him work his throat before he delved deeper, pressing at last between her thighs to breathe over her aching sex. A sniff, a flick of his tongue, and finally he licked her where she needed it, glossing across those shining folds to flick his forked tip against her clit, driving out from her the yowling cry of a tigress in aching heat. She did get momentarily quieter when he suddenly plunged his tongue inside of her, but only because she needed to pause for breath before roaring out in ecstasy once she felt him licking her on the inside, pleasuring her with slurps of her most tender reaches.

Eating her out wasn’t a matter of carefully tasting her. He’d had his fill of sampling, and now it was time to [i]indulge[/i]. Feasting upon her pussy with a series of sloppy, splattering sounds, soaking his feathers in her juices was a matter of tongue-fucking her, of drinking down every gulp of hot tigress lust he could steal from her. She couldn’t writhe, couldn’t kick, only able to scream in her feline voice as he forced her to endure every single sleek stroke of his tongue pumping in and out of her. He curled it to ensure he swept over every single detail, not missing a single taste, hitting every single g-spot, every single sensitive little detail, leaving her clamping, squeezing, flexing every muscle in her body, mostly to no avail. But one thing she could still control was the juicy clenching of her cunt, snugly gripping Roma’s tongue, working tighter, firmer, contracting with rising speed while her jaws hung wide open, tongue flopped between her canines and over her lower lip. Indira, the deadly tigress assassin, was drooling with pleasure. And Roma certainly noticed.

When he pulled back, it was so sudden that she made a strange screech of noise, her expression contorting. Leaving her trembling in need like that was simply cruel, especially when his words were carefully chosen to make her ache all the more.

“I will be blunt: I am going to mate you, sweet, soft cat. Your needy heat tells me all I need to know. Your body longs for a horny beast to rut you as if you were nothing more than a plaything, a toy to use and please myself with. I am going to [i]fuck[/i] you, breed you, and fill you with my cum, until your throat is too dry to scream anymore. And you are going to love every single moment of it.”

She was ready to snarl at him for taking his time, even if his little speech warmed her in places she didn’t even know she could feel flustered. The heat ran down her spine, reaching all the way to the tip of her tail. Her toes twitched from time to time, though that was nothing in her own control. Though perhaps it was indication that she wasn’t fully helpless, that there was some small part of her struggling against the influence of his incapacitating venom. She couldn’t consider it for long. When he stepped forward, she found herself confronted by his filled sheath, letting her witness his shaft extending from within, sliding forth looking as if dipped in gold. The hook-like feline barbs upon it looked intimidating at first. Like much of him, his cock was spiky and seemingly sharp, though as he lowered his haunches down on her face, she found them softer than she expected. Only because he shoved his shaft right against her features, grinding on her, marking her with his scent, smearing her with his precum once it started flowing. She was already wet enough with gryph spit, but his lusty essence was on a whole other level, letting that musk sink into her senses while he rubbed his dick all over her face, painting her, claiming her. When she grew tired of simply enduring the domination, she licked him, letting him grind against her tongue from tip to balls. One taste and she could hardly get enough.

If he lingered there, she might have tried to suck his cock. Such a thing would have been nearly impossible to perform well with her lack of movement, but she didn’t care. She wanted more of that taste, of the musk that clung to his unsheathed gryph cock, of the juices trickling from the tip. She let them drool onto her lips and licked them away, feeling a light tingle as she swallowed them. It was the faintest sensation, but she noticed. Just before she could wrap her lips around his shaft, he pulled away with a sudden snarl. A mix of avian and feline noise resulted in a rumble both piercing and resonating all at once as he let his feral side take over. He didn’t bother to move her. He simply slipped back, lowered his haunches, planted his forepaws on either side of her body, and looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed his cock against her pussy. She felt his barbs skipping over her outer lips one by one, snarling at each of them. They weren’t painful, but they were intensely stimulating, sending a surge of pleasure through her body as they dragged along her tender folds one after another. It only took a few slick thrusts to get him soaked in her juices, all lubed up to penetrate her, whether she was ready or not.

With a dull, damp [i]thud[/i], he bottomed out in her pussy, stretching her, filling her, letting her feel the heavy smack of feral nuts against her body. The impact rolled through her whole body, and yet, she remained where she was, unable to do anything but let him fuck her for as long as he liked. He might have spoken in a civilized tone, but once he was mating with a fine, warm female, he was all beast. The motions of his hips were swift, harsh, even brutal. He plunged into her with a [i]thump[/i], letting her feel the impact rolling up her spine, his textured shaft stimulating her with every single inch pumping in and out of her gushing pussy. She might have been squirting for him already. It was hard for her to tell. Even if she wasn’t full of venom, she might well have been paralyzed by the pleasure shooting through her nerves, leaving her with her eyes shut tight, not looking at the creature who was fucking her, letting the feeling of his cock sliding back and forth within the tight, wet hug of her clenching cunt be all that mattered for a time. Her body flooded her with the soothing reward and relief of meeting her own needs with every stroke he made into her overflowing sex.

Finding his feral rhythm meant rutting her like a sleeve, like a stallion might fuck a breeding mount, plowing into her body with little apparent regard for her limits. She could take it. Anything he did to her, she endured. Even when that meant moving from a slow, sloppy fuck, squelching back and forth inside her folds, to slamming his cock into her tight slit. Every greedy thrust was purely for his own pleasure, using her, claiming her, but that just made it all the better for her. Feeling his lustful pace, feeling his feline shaft bulging with the force of its own throbs, buried deep within her cunt, that was what drove her to a screaming high. She couldn’t even properly roar or snarl. She screeched, she yowled, her jaws gaping to let out the ignoble sounds while he tamed her with his cock, letting his balls drum upon her thighs as he buried himself deep, ignoring all restraint, all care in favour of plowing her like a lady-gryph. She could feel the force of his thrusts rolling through the ground itself, as if he might split the earth beneath them with how hard he fucked her.

She wanted to give her best snarl, and most of all, to move with his body, to participate, to show him exactly where and how she needed his barbed cock. Instead, she was going to have to be content with getting her body rocked back and forth, her assets jiggling with his harsh lunges. The strength of his feline haunches went into rutting her into the dirt. She could feel herself sinking as the rain poured down upon the wet grass around them, tapping over the canopy of the mantigryph’s bat wings. Her senses only seemed to heighten with his every lusty stroke. She heard the [i]schlick[/i] of his shaft sliding inside of her, then the solid [i]plap[/i] of his nuts slapping against her body. The impact was enough to bounce her weakened body upwards, her tits giving a jiggle, nearly hitting her in the face. And through it all, she was the wettest she had perhaps ever been. Maybe it was his venom putting her body into overdrive, pumping up the mess she made with her liquid lust dripping from her sex. Every breath of his musk inspired her to tighten around him, to hold on and clamp as if to keep him there. It was the only thing she could do to assert herself while the beast had his way with her, her one statement to make before she lost herself in yowls of ecstasy.

It took a lot to make her cum. It took even more to send her into a screaming, squirting orgasm. As soon as she contracted hard around those barbs inside her, she hit her peak instantly. They pressed in all the right spots, leaving her quivering, clenching, and finally gushing for him right as his heavy nuts pulled up tight. A hybrid sound escaped him, a hiss, a growl, even a chirp, and then he came inside her, forcefully shooting cum straight up into her womb, letting it trail over the folds of her cunt, running down her taint and meeting the base of her tail. He held himself there and filled her, balls churning to work out all that gryph-spunk, letting her feel the warmth spreading through her body as she got herself lightly swollen with the volume of feral seed entering her. It wasn’t just hot, and richly thick. Something about it tingled inside of her, coming just short of stinging. Perhaps even the deadly mantigryph’s cum was tinged with his inner acids and venoms. She had no choice but to accept every single drop he gave her, even as her pussy overflowed with a steamy [i]squelch[/i], splattering jizz up onto Roma’s underbelly and her own thighs. When he was done, he pulled halfway out of her, slowly moving his cock back and forth in her painted depths, stirring the mess around. His cock gave a pulse, bulging outwards, letting her feel those details pressing into her oversensitive reaches. Then he shoved himself inside again, squeezing out a jet of cum, and kept on rutting her without so much as giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Indira didn’t care much for the shriek that escaped her throat, but she couldn’t help it anymore. The sloppy feral seconds made the most excessive noises, [i]schlurking[/i] every time he pulled from her creamed cunt, [i]schlorping[/i] once he delved inside again, balls-deep in tigress pussy, using her, taking her, making the most of her paralyzed state to rut her as hard as he wanted. As hard as he’d always wanted. And for as explosively as he’d already made her climax, she could feel her body welling up a second time, that tension moving up her spine, making her body twitch even while she couldn’t move voluntarily. She managed at least to curl her fingers into fists, clawing her own palms as she struggled just the bear the pleasuring being hammered into her by the feral hybrid’s relentless rutting. Her ears perked at the sound of his claws digging into the dirt just beside her head, bracing himself to go at her even harder, to plow her, slam her, to shake her body with his forceful fucking. Tipping his head down to watch her expressions contorting, he lightly drooled on her, his spit hot as it rained upon her face. She left her fangs on display, though her expression could hardly be called aggressive, her face scrunched up as she lost her voice, merely rasping her way through the toe-curling stimulation of gryphcock pumping in and out of her.

Even in the middle of ferociously mating with her, he couldn’t help but let a sly look spread across his face, just looking down at her frozen expression. She was panting, gasping even, unable to steady herself when he was moving so quickly. His motions were already rapid enough, but without hesitation, he doubled up his efforts, moving so fast she could hardly feel each individual thrust. It was all a blur of sweltering, sloppy motion, the sound of squelching pussy drowning out most else. He thumped her to his peak again, leaving her trembling, squeezing, crying out for release, but falling just short, as if he was edging her intentionally. Just before she could gush for him again, he pulled from inside her, leaving her feeling vacant, gaping, squeezing on what was no longer there. This time, he pressed his dick against her belly and painted her body in his flowing cum, pumping out those heated ropes to mark and claim her body, dousing her in his feral musk.

She was already swimming in his hot scent, yet the moment the first rope of gryph seed hit her fur, she could feel the heat rising. Her body blazed as he cummed on her, focusing firstly on her breasts. He slathered them in his spunk, painting them both with a thick layer of his cream until they were weighted by the sheer amount hosed over her. Her face was her next target. He made her features vanish beneath the torrent, letting it all out, soaking her, immersing her in his jizz, whiting out every single one of her features. She felt it running down her throat, and swallowed from time to time to keep it from welling up. Otherwise, she was passive, quivering, paralyzed by more than just venom. Her aching need kept her clenching, kept her richly wet as his cum poured from her pussy and rolled down her cheeks and breasts alike, clinging to her fur as it slid from her form. The thought of begging him for a third fuck even occurred to her, briefly, but she stayed silent while she listened to him speak.

“You look even better beneath the mask of cream. I’ll have you know - ever since you first saw your elegantly feline features, so long ago, I have been thinking of cumming on your face.” He leaned in and swiped his tongue along her cheek, though it was hardly an adequate gesture to clean her up. “Wear it for me a while. There is something else I want.”

That meant handling her without the same sort of care he’d shown her so far. He seized her by the shoulders, wrenched her from the ground, leaving her to flop about loosely. There was still just enough muscular control for her to tense up, keeping her from fully resembling a ragdoll. But all that accomplished was making her easier to pose, as he flipped her onto her stomach, pressed her face down into the dirt and grass, and made sure she kept her striped rear high in the air for him. A tug of her tail got it out of his way, and from there, he mounted her, slipping his cock against her sex, teasing her with the a few grinds and rubs. She needed him, wanted him, pulsed for him, her heart pumping. But rather than penetrate her cum-filled pussy again, he instead slipped upwards, dipping beneath the base of her tail. Coated in the juices of their mating, his cock slipped inside her rear with relative ease, stretching her, spreading her out, making him accommodated his cum-lubed cock until he bottomed out with his balls resting against her striped backside. He put a little more pressure on her head with his paw, squishing her down into the ground, and then gave a simple huff as he proceeded to fuck her ass just as hard as he’d claimed her cunt.

This time, she managed a bit of a snarl. It wasn’t painful, except perhaps for the initial adjustment. Such momentary discomfort was the kind of thing she didn’t even notice anymore. He might not have known how much she secretly enjoyed anal, but that was soon evident by her tightness, squeezing on him, kneading on him, and soon moaning in the mud puddle beneath her body while he bred with her butt hard enough to rattle her body. As before, she could do nothing about the wobble of her tits, jiggling back and forth in response to the forceful thrusts. Her ass shook on impact too. She might have been taut, athletic, even muscular all over, but her booty had some bounce, and he made it shake for him while he slapped her with his sack, lightly bulging her belly with the shape of his dick working in and out of her, cum trickling down her inner thighs, or occasionally squirting out when she tightened up with a contraction of pleasure. He’d hardly been fucking her in the rear for half a minute before the tightness brought her to a peak again, ready to cum just from the feeling of that textured, stimulating gryph-dick sliding in and out of her. It was enough to make her muster the strength for one more good yowl, screeching it through the trees, disturbing the wildlife that lingered too close to the vicious coupling musking up the forest. ‘

She couldn’t endure any longer. It wasn’t her body giving out. It was her mind that was too shaken from the constant pleasure to think anymore. Her eyes rolled. Her tongue flopped. And yet all she could manage was a little twitch from head to tail as she launched into another peak, juices flowing rich and thick as she came for him again. She was pinned in the wet grass with a big paw on the back of her head, getting dominated, broken, used, and yet her arms remained loosely at her side as she squirted, her back briefly tensing then relaxing again into the limp, helpless paralysis that came with his venom. She gushed, she sprayed, she clamped down extra tight on his dick, leaving him buried within her, bulging her belly with his girth while he bellowed his delight into her ears. Such a curious roar it was, borrowing from the lion he had in him no doubt, but also blending the guttural rumble with several other sounds like he were proclaiming his triumph with the voice of the legion, a whole menagerie in one beast. That was when she felt the heat of his cum for a third time.

It rushed inside her, weighing her down, starting to test her limits, her capacity. She felt herself swelling with it, growing heavier, rounder, her belly growing just to hold all the gryph seed swimming inside of her. He was as potent as a horse, with all the stamina of a feline, leaving her to slosh and sway as he slowly pulled from her. She slumped down flat once, exhausted despite the inability to move at all, letting him paint some vertical stripes along her back to crisscross with those she already had. He basted her in his cum, marking her all over again, leaving her dripping fresh gryph spunk until it sank down deep into her fur, ensuring she carried his scent wherever she went. Such a possessive gesture might have been meaningful if he planned to let her wander off once he was done with her. But she could already hear his belly rumbling. Yesterday’s pretty girl was a small one. There was no reason he couldn’t indulge himself again, especially when he had such an elegant cat slathered in his seed and writhing in the mud.

Most of the movements were involuntary, her muscles twitching as he circled her, swishing his tail, his stinger held high. Sometimes, she managed to do something on purpose. The venom wasn’t quite so permanent as he’d implied, or at least not for someone like her, with how many toxins she’d exposed herself to over the years. She managed to raise her head up just a little, looking into his eyes as he paced around her. There was something far more bestial, far more predatory in his glare as he looked her over. She knew there was no reasoning with him. He was going to eat her. She lost the fight, and she remained his to do with as he wished, even if that meant consuming her. All she could do was put her utmost faith that he would not break his word, and that a little touch of hybrid magic would ensure her existence continued sometime after being digested alive. And something about that, the danger, the worry, the not truly knowing if she could trust him - that was the moment she sought, the invigorating, arousing spark she needed in her life of dominance. For once, she got to know how it felt to be in that position. Even in his hungry state, he found the time to toy with her using words.

“What a fine feast you’ll make, assassin. I would take a trophy, but that would be beside the point.” Dipping his head down low, he fell into a deep growl. “I am going to claim every single inch of you. Every stripe, every sultry curve. Your body is going to belong to me, and become part of mine, once I churn you down to nothing in my stomach. And it won’t take long to melt a soft morsel like you.”

He finally ceased his circling, pacing up behind her, dipping his beak between her thighs. He didn’t go for her head, nor her feet, instead taking the unorthodox approach and scooping his tongue beneath her pussy, fitting her ass into his open maw, and wrenching her from the ground to dangle from his jaws, folded in half. Her feet flopped down near her hands. Her hair fell over her face, dripping and matted with the mess of their mating and the mud below. The rain fell as heavily as ever. She could feel it on her fur, cold in contrast to the hot drool coating her backside as he sucked her inwards. Another slurp and he pressed into her belly with his forked tongue, using it for leverage to urge her downwards towards his waiting throat. She felt the contractions of his gullet tugging at her rump, urging her inwards, preparing to swallow her whole by folding her in half. Her flexibility allowed for such. The only thing he hadn’t accounted for was how quickly she could recover from his intoxicating venom.

Once the strength returned to her limbs at last, she suddenly rose up and stiffened, pressing her paws to the roof of his beak, forcing it upwards with strength not easily shown by her curvaceous form. She could tell he wasn’t expecting her to counterattack by the sudden jolt of his body. He recoiled in shock to feel her moving once more, even if it was more weakly than she might normally manage. She could move, but her agility was shot, keeping her from slipping from the embrace of his jaws. But she could resist him, for a while, holding his mouth open, pulling herself away from his throat, refusing to just let him swallow her when she still had some fight left in her. He hadn’t fucked it all out yet. She heard him growl and attempt to bite down, but she kept her palms planted in just the right spot to keep him from closing his mouth around her. Instead, he was going to have to think of some other tricks.

She was plenty aware of his curved fangs and how close they were to her face, making sure he didn’t manage to prick her with them while they struggled together. Waving his head back and forth didn’t phase her. She might have still been recovering, but she wasn’t relenting. And she was only getting stronger by the moment, her strength coming to her in waves, leaving her shaking and near to giving in until another surge overtook her and renewed her fighting efforts. The only thing she couldn’t defend herself from was his wriggling tongue. It lashed over her body as if testing for ticklishness, but that didn’t get a reaction from her. Not because she didn’t feel it. But she remained stern, stoically fighting him right until the moment he [i]struck[/i] with his tongue like a lunging cobra, plunging it inside of her all at once and making her stiffen her spine and snort in surprise. Such a precise movement, so perfectly targeted, slipping up to stimulate her with the two tips as if he knew exactly where she was sensitive.

Slopping through his own cum, he ate her out while he tried to swallow her, tossing his head back again and again, waiting for one little slip, one lapse in her focus. And all the while, he was merciless with his pleasure, generously licking her until it felt it was lapping everywhere at once. She felt her lips curling back, her fangs shining in the rising snarl. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t close them, doing her very best to push the pleasure from her mind. Yet on he went, forcing her body to react as he tongue-fucked her, drooling inside of her as he [i]schlicked[/i] back and forth, filling her with sensations, making her contract, flex, jump, even thrust into his tongue in time. Her orgasm bubbled over into a splash of juices, making her shake and quiver, her arms buckling above her, her spine bending as he snapped his jaws shut like a trap around her, sinking his fangs into her shoulders, injecting her with a fresh dose of his venom. Once she was rendered limp once more, it was just a matter of sending her straight into his throat while she climaxed in his mouth, swallowing her squirting pussy just as she finished. Left tender and lightly numbed, the touch of his gullet against her sex was enough to make her twitch. All it took was one mistake, and he had her once more.

One great toss of his head, flailing her weakened limbs and tail upwards, and he swallowed her ass, pressing her head between her heels with the force of his beak gripping her flexible body. Such a position was simple for a feline to take, hardly stretching her muscles, but it did prevent her from squirming much. She wriggled, kicked when she could, and curled her toes while the high of orgasm tingled through her mind, but soon that venom was doing its work. She flopped down and found herself as helpless as before. It wasn’t with a snarl or a cry that she found herself devoured by her old rival. Instead, it was with a whimpering sigh, settling into the pleasure of his sleek throat massaging all around her confined form. Toss and gulp became his pattern, wetly squeezing his gullet around her body, kneading her inwards with those powerful muscles, forcing her into the darkened depths of his humid innards, left to listen to his vital functions working steadily while he consumed his meal. Another swallow and she was little more than a pair of paws sticking from his beak, her tail hanging down to one side until he slurped it up with the rest of her. The last gulp was the loudest of them all, or maybe it just seemed that way listening to the sloshing echo within his bulging neck, sliding down to the slippery chamber gurgling for her below.

She thumped down to the bottom of his gut all tangled up in her own unfurled hair, bent in odd but not painful ways. The impact woke her from that afterglow, but there was nothing she could do to fight with him any longer. Her body needed time to work through all that venom. It was much more than before. Maybe even a lethal dose, but she doubted it would matter. The fleshy walls of his gut were plenty vulnerable, and she still had her claws and teeth, but she couldn’t use them, couldn’t fight him. She’d been swallowed whole and alive, and yet she couldn’t even make her predator regret such insolence. All she could do was soak in the tingly juices, sloshing in that empty chamber. There was hardly a trace in there of anything resembling food, despite his heavy meal the day before. His system was just that efficient, steaming her in the humidity until she felt like she was swimming, leaving her to lay there and await his digestive acids. She’d seen how quickly Roma had digested his last meal. Part of her doubted this would be pleasant. But before finishing his meal, Roma found a moment to poke and prod his sagging belly, and taunt her just one more time.

“Ahhh … sweet, succulent cat. A tasty tigress all to myself, tucked tight into my gut. I did not expect you to recover so quickly. You almost escaped. It was truly impressive, and I do not say that to mock.” Kneading the curvy shape of the striped cat in his belly with a paw, he pressed down on the outline of her breasts, just to give them one more ample squish. “However, I will [i]absolutely[/i] mock you for your humiliating defeat. It felt every bit as good to fuck you, to fill you, to cum on you, to [i]use[/i] you, as I had hoped. My only regret is that I won’t be able to savour slowly digesting your juicy body - but, alas, my stomach acids have an aggressive way about them. Are you ready, Indira? Are you ready to be food for the superior fighter who beat you?”

She said nothing. Yet even as he teased her, she felt a smile curling the corner of her lips. He was good at this. Everything he said ensured that even after making her cum three times, he was still turning her on, deep down in his stomach, trapped there in the utter dark, awaiting her own gurgly demise like common prey. Her heart was pounding, and it wasn’t for fear. Perhaps she ought to have been more worried, given she’d soon be subjected to a mantigryph’s intensely deadly stomach acids, but she was sure she could endure any discomfort they brought. She wanted to be part of him, wanted to be eaten, to be digested, to be absorbed into his system and claimed for nothing more than nutrition to feed his victorious body. He had earned it. Mostly. Perhaps she was a little easy on him. She already had ideas for their eventual rematch, but that would have to wait. Sucking in a breath, she braced herself, even while quivering with anticipation when she heard a telltale [i]glrnnnn[/i] of impending digestion.

***

“Here we go. All mine, tigress. Melt, my stripey treat.”

They poured upon her all at once, flooding as if bursting from a dam. First they soaked her, then they immersed her. She heard the hiss of when they met her body, but she didn’t end up feeling a single thing. All went numb, and then dark as she got submerged in deadly acid, her body melting in moments, bubbling in the cauldron of his stomach as he transformed her from whole and living cat to softened, ruined mess, and then picked her bones clean in a matter of seconds. They clattered to the bottom of the shrinking chamber, the progress of his digesting her visible to him and any onlooking wildlife. But those too hardly lasted, getting hollowed and weakening away in the viscous acids that sizzled within his body.

She lasted no longer than the young hyena before her. His stomach made no distinction between meat of any sort. Once he’d melted every last trace of her and passed her down into his intestines, his gut mostly flattened over once more as if she’d never been there, he stretched his legs out in front of him and flopped down on his side, beak gaping with a heavy yawn. He had to admit, that was exhausting, even for him. And there was no better time for a contented snooze there in the morning rain than after digesting his old enemy, letting his body do the work of absorbing her, making him feel glowing satisfaction as the unrecognizable remnants of the tigress wound their way through his system. Such divinely pleasing nourishment was his reward for consuming such dangerous prey, and he savoured every second of it, at least until he nodded off.

***

Churned, absorbed, digested. The tigress was a part of him, at least for now. All it took was a brief nap to fully process her mortal form in a bit of fat on his body. Between her and the hyena the night before, he was developing just a bit of a paunch. Nothing he couldn’t burn off with time. He felt refreshed and rejuvenated thanks to consuming a whole, beautiful tigress and adding her to his own body. His feathers felt sleeker, and his limbs more limber. Perhaps he’d absorbed some of her legend in the process of digesting her. Or maybe she was just a good, fulfilling meal. Either way, he was done with her for the evening, and so was his body.

A twitch of his tail told him it was time to rise and pace off somewhere sheltered so that he could squat beneath a tree and rid himself of what remained. A naughty thought occurred to him as he moved, that such an undignified end would be a truly shocking conclusion to her tale. From near-mythical, to crudely humiliated by a hungry gryphon, left to feed the roots of a tree - but no. He greatly wished to see her again. A little magic, and she’d be back. But in the meantime, he was content to revel in his total victory, to squeeze her out, ruined bones and all, to properly conclude his total domination of the deadly cat. The nimble tigress met her temporary end within Roma’s gut, and her agile body was nothing more than a mound of mantigryphon shit, pleasurably pushed out from beneath his raised stinger-tail. Whether she let him win or not, he wasn’t going to forget such a satisfying win anytime soon. And she would surely remember such a humiliating defeat. He’d make certain of it.