Allen stood in the center of the chaos, his cock still slick with the lioness's submission, the scent of sweat, fear, and arousal blooming like a storm around him. The glow from the crystals above pulsed with every breath, and the air was so thick with heat it felt like the whole underground pit had started to breathe—through him.
Dozens of beastkin surged forward, no longer begging for help. Now they begged for him. His touch, his cock, his mark. Allen didn't hesitate. He grabbed the nearest girl—a foxkin with snow-white ears and a body made for sin. Her fur was streaked with grime, but her eyes burned with hunger.
She dropped to her knees before he even said a word, licking the length of his shaft, lapping up every trace of the lioness's cum-soaked surrender. Her tail wagged uncontrollably behind her, brushing against other beastkin desperate to take her place.
