The memory crashed into her brain like a battering ram—how just moments ago, she'd been straddling him, and through sheer cosmic cruelty, the very tip of his swollen cockhead had pressed against her asshole and entered.

Just the tip.

But enough.

Enough that she could still feel it. The blunt shape of him breaching that tight ring of muscle. The alien heat that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the raw shock of penetration.

The way her body had clenched involuntarily around that intrusion, her rim trying to push out what had already slipped inside, creating a maddening friction that made her nerve endings scream.

Her hand flew to her ass, clutching the denim-covered cheek as her face turned crimson.

'That—that thing—'

"You—!" Kaida sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at Viktor. "If I go first, I know you'll just bury your face in my ass!"

Viktor blinked. "What?"

"Don't play dumb!" Her voice cracked slightly, embarrassment warring with fury. "You'll stick your perverted face right between my—my—" She couldn't even finish the sentence.

Viktor's expression went completely blank.

A pause.

Then, in the flattest tone imaginable: "So is this your fetish?"

"WHAT?!"

Kaida's face went from red to purple. Her hands clenched into fists—the chain rattling between them—and she lunged.

Her fingers locked around his throat for what felt like the hundredth time today.

"You bastard! You absolute bastard!" She squeezed, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who didn't notice his physical intimacy with her now two times—anal and boob—even if vaguely. "I'm going to kill you!"

Viktor's hands flew up, tapping frantically against her wrists. "Kai—'gkk'—can't breathe—"

"Good! Die!"

"I—surrender—!" Viktor wheezed, his face turning an impressive shade of blue.

Kaida's grip loosened slightly, just enough for him to suck in a desperate breath. Her scarred face was inches from his, red eyes blazing with murderous intent.

But before she could finish the job—

"Um... Sir Viktor?"

Both of them froze.

Bella's soft, hesitant voice cut through the murderous tension like a knife through butter. They turned—slowly, stupidly—to look at her.

And immediately wished they hadn't.

Bella was on all fours.

Not kneeling. Not crouching. On her hands and knees like a cat, her small frame positioned at the entrance to the narrow passage. Her silver tail swayed gently behind her, the bandaged tip curling upward in a way that was almost hypnotic.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was her hips.

They were raised. Slightly. Just enough to draw the eye. Her thighs pressed together, the damp fabric of her tunic clinging to curves that were far more generous than Viktor had initially realized.

Her ass... was thicker than it had any right to be on such a petite frame. The kind of plush, yielding softness that made a man's hands itch to test its give, to feel warm flesh dimple beneath his fingers and spill between them.

And her panties.

White. Simple. Cotton.

But soaked through.

The fabric clung to her like a second skin, outlining everything. The tender swell of her outer lips. The shadow of her slit where the material had worked itself between her folds.

The way the cotton disappeared into the cleft of her ass, leaving the lower curves of her cheeks exposed in a way that looked accidental but felt obscene.

Viktor's brain short-circuited.

His nose twitched.

And then—

Drip

Warm blood ran down his upper lip in a thin stream.

"I-I can go first," Bella stammered, her voice muffled slightly because her face was angled down, her silver hair falling around her ears. "If... if it helps...?"

Kaida's mouth fell open. She stared. Blinked. Stared again.

"Why the hell is your nose bleeding?!" She rounded on Viktor, releasing his throat to grab his face instead. "Did I choke you too much?! Are you dying?!"

For a split second, genuine panic flashed across her expression. Her scarred face twisted with worry, her hands frantically tilting his head back.

'I might've killed him. Shit. Mira's going to murder me. The promise—I promised I wouldn't—'

Viktor wiped his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a red smear. "I'm fine."

"You're bleeding!"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing?! Your—" She paused, her gaze dropping instinctively.

And then she saw it.

Viktor's cockhead was peeking out from his pants again—swollen, flushed a deep angry red, a thick pearl of precum beading at the slit like he was already leaking from just looking at Bella's ass.

Her eye twitched.

"Your nose and your dick are leaking!" she shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Viktor opened his mouth. Closed it. Sighed.

"Bella," he said finally, his voice strained. "Please... just go."

Bella's ears flattened against her skull. "Y-yes, Sir Viktor."

She started crawling forward into the passage—slowly, carefully, her hips swaying with each movement.

Viktor's eyes locked onto her ass like a heat-seeking missile.

He couldn't not look.

The way her thighs shifted. The flex of muscle beneath soft skin. The bounce—gods, the bounce—every time she moved forward, her cheeks jiggling with a weight that made his mouth go dry.

And then he noticed something that made his jaw clench hard enough to hurt.

Marks.

Thin, raised lines across her hips. Red. Angry. Fresh.

Whip marks.

'Elena.'

The name burned in his mind like acid.

'I'll kill her. I'll fucking kill her.'

But he forced the thought down, focusing instead on the task at hand: not dying of blood loss.

Bella disappeared into the passage, her silver tail the last thing visible before the darkness swallowed her whole.

Viktor took a breath—deep, steadying—and followed.

The passage was tight.

Not just narrow. Suffocating.

Stone walls pressed in on both sides, rough and cold, scraping against his shoulders as he shuffled forward sideways. The air smelled damp, earthy, with a faint metallic tang that made his nose itch.

Ahead, Bella's breathing echoed softly—shallow, nervous.

Behind him, Kaida muttered curses under her breath as she squeezed into the gap.

And between them—

Viktor's tail swung freely.

He wasn't even trying to control it anymore. The damn thing had a mind of its own, swishing back and forth like an overeager puppy.

Smack.

The spaded tip hit something soft.

Kaida's face.

"Ow! You—!" She sputtered, spitting out what might've been tail-fur (did it even have fur?). "Keep that thing under control!"

"I'm trying!" Viktor hissed back.

Smack.

It hit her again.

"Viktor, I swear to the gods—"

"It's not my fault!"

His tail lashed wildly now, seemingly targeting Kaida's face with malicious precision. It slapped her cheek. Her forehead. Her nose.

She grabbed it mid-swing, her fingers wrapping around the base near the spade.

And squeezed.

Viktor's entire body went rigid.

A strangled sound escaped his throat—half-gasp, half-moan—and his knees nearly buckled.

"What—" Kaida started, confused by his reaction.

Then Viktor's tail twitched.

Hard.

It yanked itself free from her grip and coiled defensively behind him, the tip hovering protectively near his lower back.

"Don't. Touch. That," Viktor ground out through clenched teeth as he felt as if his dick wasclenched.

It was hard to depict her; his tail seems to send signals directly to his cock, as if he had just grown two dicks, one being circumcised with better sensitivity.

So, when Kaida grabbed it, it hurt but in the wrong way.

Kaida's eyes narrowed. "Why? What happens if I—"

"Just don't."

Silence.

They shuffled forward in awkward, tense quiet, the chain between them clinking softly with every step.

Ahead, Bella had stopped moving.

Viktor squinted through the dim light. "Bella? Why'd you—"

And then he walked face-first into her ass.

Smmchh

"Mmhph—!?"

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