The Final Joy (18++)

With each consecutive crack of The Whip of Sodom, the tigerkin took another step closer to the tortured, involuntarily aroused girl. The whip worked splendidly. No matter the opponent, it was only a matter of time before The Whip of Sodom would work its magic on its target and its holder. Number Fifty-eight stroked his modest hard-on and licked his lips, unable to look away from Number forty's nubile body. His shield laid some feet behind him. He no longer needed it. At this distance, using the whip became increasingly impractical and difficult. Still, the tigerkin rolled The Whip of Sodom up and raised his hand for one more, close-distance strike.

"Ha!" the tigerkin cracked his whip again across Number Forty's breasts. And when he heard her sweet moan and saw those hard pink cherry-tops rise into the air, the tigerkin lost all reservation, dropped his whip, and jumped on the girl.

"Ah, one final joy for Number Forty before she departs this world!" the announcer giggled while the tigerkin ripped the girl's thong—her only remaining piece of clothing—off. "Might as well! But remember that while a night with princess Mary only hinges on the girl's death, additional bonuses await the one who will make her passing particularly excruciating!"

"Oh, you can count on it!" snarled another beastkin as he crawled from half-way across the arena.

Number Forty-four, the wounded sharkkin, dragged his broken body across the rocks toward the engaged couple. Already wounded by Number Forty at the start of the fight, those wounds paled in comparison to what the wheel did to him. His right shoulder destroyed, arm made useless, his chest torn, his leg broken, the sharkkin left a smear of blood as he dragged his body forward with one good arm and leg left. But the rage and desire for revenge kept him going as the sharkkin imagined what he would do to the girl after the tigerkin was done with her.

Along the way, the sharkkin saw a boomerang lying on the ground, with its sharp blades still exposed. The sharkkin grinned and snatched the weapon into many layers of razor-sharp teeth, careful not to cut himself. You better enjoy that tiger's tiny pecker! The sharkkin thought. Because I'll fuck your ass and cunt bloody red for what you did to me!!

The tigerkin got on top of Nubmer Forty, spread her legs, and thrust his dick inside her without warning or care.

"Ha! I knew you wanted it!" the tigerkin cheered and he moved his dick inside Number Forty's wet pussy. "Was it the whip? Or were you hoping I'd mate with you the moment you saw me? That has to be it! You undressed for me so willingly! HAHA! You're great! HAAH~! Nice and tight!!"

Beatrice clenched her fists. Fuck! It just couldn't be a simple fight to the death could it? Of course not! Not in this city! Eighteen fire mages! And that blood-hungry white mask! Do I even stand a chance against all of them at once? Would the others help? Beatrice looked around and shook her head. Get real! I can't possibly rely on that. Other than Olivia, why would they help? But then what? Do I just stand by and watch like everyone else? Fuck that!

Even though the rational course of action was to do nothing—like everyone else did—it was increasingly hard to be rational. Beatrice was a pervert. A degenerate, but a consensual one! And the tigerkin desecrated a sacred act meant to bring joy, pleasure, relief, and escapism for all involved.

However, Number Forty did not resist the tigerkin. She wrapped her legs and arms around the tigerkin and reached to him for a kiss.

"Woah there! No kissing!" the tigerkin growled and put his big hairy paw over the girl's mouth. "You think I'm stupid or something?"

Yes! Felicia screamed silently.

"We'll just enjoy this like this," the tigerkin grunted as he rocked his hips. "I wonder how princess Mary will compare? It really is a shame-ugh-but… I have a feeling that the giant fish will not be nearly as gentle with you as I am when he finally drags his rotting sack of flesh here, hahaha!"

Number Forty could not answer even if she wanted to since her mouth was covered. Instead, she met the tigerkin's movements and rocked her hips to his rhythm, meeting his cock with her own thrusts. Staring right back at the tigerkin, Lilith moved her hips with increasing force, raising her butt off the ground to take control over the tigerkin's dick, driving herself on it, squeezing it, massaging the head of the tigerkin's cock with her inner muscles.

"Ugh! Getting into it?" Number Fifty-Eight laughed. "Ha! I knew it! You did want me! Then let us both embrace and enjoy your final moments of pleasure and get really frea-AHN!?"

Everyone's attention was grabbed by the sudden yelp of the beastkin when he unexpectedly pulled out of the girl. The giant viewing sphere above the arena zoomed in on the tigerkin's rock-hard, bright-red dick. At the very top of the head of his manhood, something pink was sticking out of the opening. No, something pink was lodged into the opening of the tigerkin's penis.

The tigerkin turned pale in the span of a second when he looked into Number Forty's merciless crimson eyes, and cried out, "WAIT—"

The pink bubble expanded and burst to a most discomforting result.

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