The room was thick with unbearable tension.
In the living room, four furry girls had gathered around the same table: Callisa, Frida, Aiko and Morona. There was fire burning in each of their eyes. The tips of their tails and antennae were twitching like they were getting ready for a fight.
Because this was a fight.
The first move came from Callisa.
"Alright, girls. You remember what we agreed about Evan's meat."
At that, drool ran down her muzzle and she licked her lips.
"The one who gets his consent decides the recipe, and the rest have to accept it."
They all nodded. That much was obvious. The winner got the right to choose the recipe and claim the best parts.
"You know I can hear you, right?"
Evan was puttering around right beside them, pouring beer, so of course he heard them. He was about to bring them their glasses.
When he handed them their beers, Frida spoke up.
"We know."
She immediately lifted her shirt and flashed him her bare breasts. Big breasts, practically begging to be squeezed.
"Look, we can skip that whole topic if we find good meat for the party." Drool ran from her muzzle. "If you agree, I can give you the wildest fuck you've ever had in your life."
"N–no thanks," Evan waved his hand nervously.
Frida buried her muzzle in his crotch and started sniffing his dick through his pants.
"Are you sure? You smell amazing. And the grill is perfect for a party."
She looked up at him. In her eyes was a crazed blend of hunger and lust. She grabbed the sides of his pants and kissed his cock through the fabric.
"Just one word…"
Frida spoke completely overcome with arousal, her voice dripping with want. He could feel her starting to tug his pants down.
"I have to clean up the garden."
He yanked himself free and bolted out of the room. The heated-up girls watched this with deep disappointment. Frida dropped heavily back into her chair and muttered in a dejected voice:
"He ran…"
Callisa clapped her hands.
"Alright. We've already established we're buying meat at the store. Now there's something more important."
All the girls refocused.
"I won my bet with Evan. I'll admit, that 'challenge' with… that thing wasn't fair."
The girls nodded. Synth-meat was some kind of nightmare aberration. There was no way to make it even remotely edible. Evan had thought it'd be like discount processed crap from his world, but he'd been very wrong.
"Still, a bet is a bet, and we all want that prize. We want Evan to do a striptease on the pole."
All four girls smiled lewdly. Lewdly and predatorily.
"That means we have to decide what he'll be stripping out of."
Each of them let out a sensual laugh. The battle had begun. Evan's life wasn't at stake here, so they didn't need to hold back.
They were all different, and each of them had her own perfect outfit for him in mind. This wasn't just about what he'd wear. It was about what it meant if he wore it. Putting him in one of those outfits would tell the others who had the upper hand. Who Evan "belonged" to more.
Tails twitched. Fangs gleamed. Claws and pincers clicked.
"Let's begin. I'll go first."
She looked at all of them and began:
"Evan is wonderful. So refined. His outfit should reflect that. He's a delicious morsel best suited to a classic recipe. He'd be an exquisite roast, served with vegetables roasted alongside him, dripping with red wine sauce."
She licked her lips.
"For a dish like that, you need a classic garnish. A classic stripper outfit."
Saliva dripped from her mouth. She wiped it away and went on.
"His penis, that most delicious part, hidden only by skimpy black strings, the strap running right between his butt cheeks. On his legs, fishnet stockings and red garters, just like tied-up meat. To complete the styling, a little apron, plus cuffs and a collar like a waiter. And for the final touch, a hint of gloss on his lips."
A perfect classic dish, just begging to be eaten.
The dreamy fox smiled at her fantasies. She could already see Evan, through his dance, giving his consent—when suddenly some barbarian cut into her beautiful vision.
"You've gotta be kidding, foxy. Evan's unique—the only human male on our turf. You should be hunting something like that, tying it up and devouring it. Listen to what I came up with."
She shot a glance at Callisa.
"You've got a decent idea with the fishnets, but they need more bite. A few rips here and there, like after a hard struggle."
Frida giggled at her own fantasy and went on:
"Picture that juicy ass of his stuffed into tight leather low-rise shorts. Add a leather harness across his chest and a collar with a solid steel ring. Fingerless gloves. And to finish it off—black nail polish and black eyeliner."
The wolf girl laughed.
"Humans used to be the dominant race. Think about it: the last representative of a dominant species on full display, stripped of his former glory piece by piece, until he's naked and ready to be devoured by the new queen."
Frida drifted off for a moment. Her mind flooded with scenes straight out of a Lupan the Barbarian movie. The last ruler of a great empire, defeated, roasted over open flame, and served at a victor's feast.
Her fantasies were interrupted by a disdainful snort. It was Aiko.
"Both your ideas are good, but they're way too spicy and salty. Evan is sweet. Like a little crunchy cookie."
Aiko wagged her tail.
"It has to be something kawaii. Thigh-high socks in blue-and-white stripes. Underpants with the words 'EAT ME' on them. Plus soft fluffy faux fur. Cuffs on his neck, ankles and wrists. And glitter."
Aiko drifted off into her own world. She felt like she was listening to some idol concert. Sweets raining from above, Evan standing on a cake, singing about being eaten. Every bishie she knew faded in comparison. He was just that sweet.
At that moment, a pair of pincers spoke up.
"Those who walk cannot soar. Feet bound to earth shall never see the hidden truth."
As usual, the girls had no idea what she was talking about. But someone else translated it for them. From behind the door came Evan's voice:
"She says you're too lost in earthly pleasures to see the deeper truth."
The girls ignored the part where they were being called petty. What mattered was that Evan was eavesdropping on them. That was proof. All four of them smiled and licked their lips.
Morona continued her speech.
"What once was, is again. A flower blooming from a seemingly dead seed. Wrapped in translucent petals and secret symbols. The fate of the most perfect blossom is to burn in the hottest flame."
Evan explained again from behind the door. Morona's plan was to paint him with tribal patterns in edible paint and dress him in a loincloth and a semi-transparent cape.
But none of them saw what was really going on in Morona's mind.
She imagined a grand ceremony full of music and incense. She and Evan giving themselves to passion—and, at the peak, she kisses his neck, then in a single motion bites his head off and then feasts on his body, covered in his blood. She would keep his skull forever as a memento of her love.
They all looked at each other. None of them would give in—that was obvious. This wasn't about some silly scraps of cloth. This was about proving whose he was, more than anyone else's. Who had the advantage. Which one of them was the alpha.
Evan would have to put on one of those outfits, and in doing so he'd point to the one who was closest to his heart, closest to his mind… and closest to finally hunting him down.
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