Part One: Fight

The four prisoners were brought from all over the city to one place, an old abandoned building on the outskirts of town, their eyes untied, their hands uncuffed, their eyes untied, and they were forced inside, with the door shut behind them. 

The room they were in, like the rest of the house, was filled with rich but dusty and broken furniture. The rotten floorboards creaked, the paint was peeling from the walls, the corners were full of cobwebs, and the windows were completely boarded up. In contrast, the room was full of modern gadgets: it was lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling on a wire, the front door and the doors to the other rooms were electronically locked, there were cameras hanging from the ceiling, an electronic display above the entrance that did not yet work, and a large red button on the wall next to the entrance.

The first person to enter the room was a lion - a fairly young guy in shorts and a t-shirt with "A.C.A.B." written in bright colors on it. The most accurate word to describe him would be 'average': average height, not fat but not too thin either, not particularly muscular, but it was hard to call him weak too. His mane was not very noticeable in volume - apparently, like many lions, he regularly cut and trimmed it so that it did not interfere with wearing normal clothes. Once in the room, the lion found a chair in the corner and sat down, crouching as if to take up as little space as possible, and stared at the entrance, waiting.

The second was a mink. A short girl with white colored fur. She wore a yellow jacket and baggy green pants that hid her figure from others. Both her clothes and her fur had dirt stains here and there - either she didn't care much about cleaning, or she didn't have regular access to water or a washing machine. She sat down on another chair at the other end of the room and began nervously fiddling with the zipper of her jacket. 

The third to enter was a bull, a gorgeous specimen of his kind. Tall and muscular, he didn't hide his body, unlike the mink, and wore nothing but loose gray shorts that reached mid-thigh. His black fur was covered with numerous scars, and one of his forward-pointing horns was broken off in the middle. His body was well built, as if his job required heavy physical activity - his abs were barely visible, but his arms were more massive than the thighs of the lion watching him warily. With no fear of getting dirty, the bull sat down on the ground near the entrance.

The brown stag with white spots turned out to be the fourth. He, too, wore shorts, but short and tight around his slightly feminine hips and pumped-up butt. His chest was covered by a denim vest with a zipper. Between the vest and the shorts, the lower part of his flat stomach could be seen, covered in soft white fur. The stag wasn't very tall, but the branching antlers made him look much taller and made him bend his head as he entered the room. He didn't sit down anywhere, just stood in an empty corner. Standing for long periods of time seemed to be a habit for him.

All four were silent. A sense of anxious expectation hung in the room, broken only when the door opened for the fifth time. Another lion entered, very different from the previous one: he was considerably larger, more like a bull in build, almost as tall and muscular. His mane remained exactly as nature intended - covering his shoulders and reaching down to the middle of his well-developed chest. To show it off, as well as the firm abs on his belly, the lion wore a short-sleeved white shirt that he never buttoned. And if the bull had earned his muscles through hard work, the lion's were clearly the result of exercise and a special diet - both lean and massive at the same time. 

Despite the somber atmosphere in the house, the lion smiled and showed his predatory fangs, one of which, the upper right one, had been replaced with an artificial one made of metal to imitate gold. His mood caught the attention of everyone there: some were frightened, some were angry, some were interested.

"Are you one of us?" The first to satisfy his curiosity was a stag.

"Uh-huh," replied the lion, and began to take off his shirt.

"Hey, what are you doing?" The bull broke in. Although he was nearly naked himself, he found the sight of the undressing male a little odd.

"Undressing, obviously," the lion sounded as if it was not the first time he had been asked that question. The man also knew what question would be asked next, so he decided to answer it in advance, putting his shirt aside and starting to undo the button on his blue jeans, "The clothes are expensive, the building is old, I don't want to tear them on some crumbling table," the bull seemed to calm down after receiving a logical enough answer, but immediately tensed back up when he heard the continuation, "Besides, I'm guaranteed to get dirty with your blood, and it's very difficult to wash." 

"What?" the smaller lion and the mink asked at the same time, causing the big cat to grin. 

"Are you two together? Interesting couple... "The lion fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, his pants fell to the floor and he simply stepped out of them, shamelessly revealing a rather large, half-erect cock and an equally large furry pouch behind it. 

"What? No!" they both said in unison, making the older lion laugh even harder. 

"Makes sense. The lion wouldn't cut his mane if he was interested in girls," the older male winked at the younger cat. "You're pretty, wish I had the chance to use your ass, but tomorrow morning your parents won't even have anything to bury," the lion began to stretch his muscles the way runners usually do before the start: jumping up and down on the spot, raising his hands or, on the contrary, bending down to touch the toes.

"Don't change the subject, cat," the bull seemed to grow angrier, "what damn blood?"

"Yours, as I said. In the near future I will kill you all, quite brutally and accompanied by multiple rapes," the lion continued, speaking calmly and patiently, like a loving father telling his children how the world works.

"B-b-but you said you were one of us," said the stag, clearly frightened at the prospect.

"I am. Like you, I got caught by the cops a while back for doing something very bad and not very legal," the lion interrupted his warm-up, straightening up and beginning to curl his fingers after each argument, "Like you, I made a simple deal with them - I come here and they turn a blind eye to my misdemeanors. Like you, I haven't eaten in 24 hours. Though for different reasons," the male chuckled, "like you, I won't be able to leave this building anytime soon. Bending four fingers, the lion hesitated, trying to think of an argument to bend a fifth, "Well... and I'm a lion like some of you. Just a normal one, not one who cuts his mane like a girl," the lion winked again, "No offense, I really like you." 

"I didn't do anything!" The younger lion seemed more hurt by the accusation of a crime than by the mockery of his mane or the vulgar suggestions.

"Hmmm..." the older lion stared thoughtfully at the writing on the man's T-shirt, which literally stated that all cops are bastards, and scratched the back of his head theatrically through his mane, "Interesting why you're here..."

"It's just a joke! I told them! And we have freedom of speech and expression! They said it's okay and they understand. And that I just need to be here for an hour and they'll let me go!"

"Well, technically they weren't lying, it's just... " the lion couldn't finish because he had to react to the danger.

Tired of listening to chatter, the bull decided to deal with the problem in the way that life had taught him: he rose quickly from the ground, snorted, releasing a stream of hot air from his nostrils, and launched himself in the direction of the irritating object. The horned male was full of rage, his eyes seeing nothing but his target, he thrust his head forward, intending to pierce the lion's chest with his horns and nail him to the nearest wall, but that was not going to happen.

The lion was ready for such a turn of events. Apparently it was not the first time this had happened to him. The predator was calm, he knew every piece of wood in the room, so it was not difficult for him to get away from the bovine and let him fly by. The bull's massive head slammed into an equally massive wall, but that wasn't a problem for him - slamming into things was in his nature. What was more of a problem was that the calm and focused lion lunged at him from behind, kicking at his victim's leg, bringing him to his knees and grabbing the bull's neck in a choke hold, wrapping one arm around him and pressing the back of his head with the other. Taking advantage of the fact that the bull's head was level with the top of his stomach, the lion simultaneously began to pull him upward, using the brawler's own body mass against him.

The younger lion, seeing the fight suddenly began and also suddenly ended, jumped out of his chair, not quite sure why - he certainly didn't want to get involved in a fight between two males each one and a half times his size.

"Everybody down!" The predator's commanding voice as he continued to hold his opponent's neck was filled with a wild roar that only lions could use, and it even made the bull stop trying to resist for a second. "If a single drop of blood is spilled here, I will lose control and tear you apart right now!"

The younger cat sat back down. The stag, who had been standing in the corner the whole time, slid down the wall and sat on the floor. The three prisoners watched in silence as the two strong males finished their fight. The lion's arms were swollen with tension - the muscular bull's neck, designed to hold a heavy head, was a difficult target to grab, but the big cat managed to maintain his grip, preventing his opponent from getting any air into his lungs. The bovine grabbed at the arm, trying to pull it away from his throat, but the lion's strength was enough to hold on long enough. After a few seconds, the bull, realizing he could not escape, tried to pat the lion's hand several times to admit defeat, but the lion would not stop and only released his grip when the victim stopped moving. 

Only two in the room had enough experience with physical violence to know that a chokehold was needed to knock an opponent out, not kill him: one was unconscious on the floor, the other had no intention of sharing this information with the others, so the remaining three thought they had witnessed the first kill of the evening. The older lion straightened up, shook off his hands and smiled again as if nothing had happened, which only frightened the others more.

"So where were we... " the lion hesitated.

"W-w-why are you doing this?" The stag was clearly shocked by what had happened and could barely utter the words.

"Is it so important for you to die informed?" The lion was being ironic, but in fact he was not averse to telling his own story: "When I smell blood, something terrible awakens in me. When I was five years old, my parents took me to a blood test and I almost tore the nurse's hand off. Since then, in order to live normally, I have to feed the beast from time to time, and then it falls asleep for a while. The cops thought they could make a business out of it, so they gather scum like you here, let me have my fun and then sell the tapes to rich guys," the lion turned to face the camera in the corner of the room, playfully showing his tongue, one arm bent at the elbow and tensed to show his bulging biceps, the other hand gripping his own cock, already full of blood from the close physical contact with the bull, and began to move his hand as if masturbating, "I'm kind of a porn star".

"But why us?" the younger lion, still believing he had come here by mistake, intervened again. 

"Who cares if it's you or not, any scum will work. The police in the city have lost all sense of decency long ago. Whoever they can catch on the spot, they catch. The main thing is that there are some criminals, and then they will officially fulfill their duty - to make the city a little cleaner".

"But I... " the young lion started to protest again, but he was interrupted.

"No, I've had enough," the big lion put an end to all the talk, adding his trademark growl to his voice again so that no one would feel the need to argue, "You want to get out of here? It's possible. The rules are simple. I press a button," the lion pointed to a device on the wall, "the first buzzer sounds and a timer starts. You have fifteen minutes to protect yourselves. Hide, run, try to find a weapon, jerk off so you can die happy - anything. When that time is up, you will hear a second buzzer and an hour will begin. From that moment on, I will start hunting you, and for that hour, all you have to do is survive. No restrictions, you can even try to kill me, but as you can see, no one has ever succeeded. When the hour is up, there will be another buzzer, which means that this door will open," the lion pointed to the entrance through which the prisoners had entered the building, "and a few others you can find on the first floor. If you leave the building, good for you, you've won, all charges are dropped, you can go home in peace. I remind you that I cannot control myself, so while you are in the building, even if you are lucky enough to hear the last signal, do not cross paths with me. It's only safe outside. Is that clear?"

All three were silent, trying to process the information, but the lion was eager to get started. He walked over to the button on the wall and struck it with his fist. A deafening sound echoed throughout the house announcing the start of the deadly game, an electronic lock on the door leading into the house opened and the display board above it lit up with the numbers "00:15:00" and immediately began counting down to zero. 

"What are you waiting for? Run!" the lion roared, trying to wake up the players. 

They looked at each other, not yet fully realizing that every second was important to them. The stag was the first to come to his senses, rising from the floor and taking a quick step out of the room. The mink followed, immediately breaking into a run. The younger lion tried to follow the other three, but felt his tail being pulled painfully.

"What? It's not fai... "

The older lion pulled the younger one closer, wrapped one hand around his head while the thumb gently stroked his cheek, and with the other reached down boldly into the boy's pants to squeeze the fleshy backside with all his might, then pressed the muzzle against the younger cat's own and stuck the tongue into his mouth, silencing any outrage. The smaller cat tried to push it out with his own tongue, but for the predator the little struggle only added to the passion of the kiss. 

"Come on, run," the older lion released the boy from his grip, licked his lips as if to savor the taste of the younger male a little more, and slapped the boy's backside as a farewell, "I promise I will wait an extra minute. Just for you."

The frightened cat stood there for a few seconds, blinking in confusion, then, not knowing what to say, ran silently out of the room, leaving the lion alone with the still-breathing bull.

"Well," the lion looked at the body thoughtfully, "technically the same rules apply to you, so if you want to run," the lion jokingly pointed at the door with his hand for the bull, but of course the bovine didn't react, only his chest heaving with shallow breathing, "No? All right. Then, since it's just the two of us, we'll have to find a way to kill time."

The lion bent down, grabbed the bull by the horns and dragged the heavy carcass into the center of the room, then knelt over the body so that the man's broad chest was between his legs. Sitting back down, the big cat picked up his cock and stroked it along the top of his victim's chest as if to tease him, then leaned forward, grabbed the horn and pulled the massive bull's head closer to him.

"Well, I hope you're not going to bite," the lion continued to hold the horn with one hand, unclenching his victim's jaws with the other, then grabbing his cock again, first inserting the head into the mouth, pausing to feel the pleasant warmth and moisture of the tongue, then slowly pushing the entire length to the base "You're doing a good job, not even choking."

The bull was indeed doing a good job. Of course, there was no great pleasure for the lion, the big cat had to rub his cock against the fleshy tongue to get some stimulation, and the bull's long face and uncomfortable posture did not allow the male to get to the pleasant enveloping of the throat, but the victim did not resist and did not even cough. 

"Do you know how frustrating this is?" The lion decided to speak to the unconscious body, as if complaining to his friend, while continuing to press big head against the shaft, "This thing inside me. Whatever it is, whether it's a personality disorder or ancestral spirits, it's just using my body," the lion wanted to accelerate, but the massive horned head was difficult to move with great amplitude and speed at the same time, so he had to help himself by rocking his hips, "I have fun all night and then I don't remember anything. I wake up with a pain in my balls from this beast coming ten times in one night, with indigestion from eating a lot of garbage, and I'm covered in scratches and bites," the lion accelerated even more, pressing his head into his groin with every movement, "last time I knocked out a tooth and had to have it replaced. Good thing you agreed to help, I'll probably remember your mouth. As well as your pretty face, but it just needs a little sprucing up".

Finished with his comical complaints, the lion decided to concentrate on his own pleasure. Using the head was fun, but bringing himself to release would take too much time, time the lion couldn't afford to waste. He pulled his hips back, removed his shaft from the mouth, and began to satisfy himself with his hand, running his palm over the saliva-lubricated cock. With his other hand, the lion continued to hold the head, looking into the blank face of his captive, imagining how in a few minutes he would become a large piece of meat for the hungry predator. After only a minute of moving his massive fist, the lion finally showed his teeth in a grin and shot several loads of sperm, aiming first at his victim's eye and then at his lips, trying to cover the entire face of the enemy he had just defeated and was about to destroy with the smelly white liquid.

"Almost there," the lion got off the bull and saw that his shorts were tightly stretched by his stony cock, "Really?" the big cat laughed heartily, "Such a brutal guy likes to have his face covered in cum?" The lion looked at the timer, there were just under three minutes left, "Oke-e-ey, you helped me, let me help you, but don't tell anyone. Just male solidarity, nothing special."

Lion sat down near the man's body and did not even remove the shorts so as not to waste time. Instead, he took the clothed piece of flesh in his hand and began to rub the shaft from base to tip. The predator went straight for the jerk at full speed - the bull was in no mood for foreplay anyway. The lion's fist slid easily down the length, the shaft jerking in his powerful fist, and after a minute the lion noticed that the unconscious body began to move its hips slightly in time with the movements. 

There was a deafening buzzer, the second of the evening, the numbers on the timer changed to "01:00:00", immediately switched to "00:59:59" and continued, but the predator wanted to keep his promise to the little lion and also finish the job. A barely audible grunt came from the bull's mouth and he began to move his head, but he still hadn't come to his senses. The fabric of his shorts was first stained by the accumulating pre-cum, and after another minute of such stimulation he exploded, soaking the cloth with his seed.

"That's it," the lion quickly removed his hand so as not to get dirty, "I hope you had time to make small bulls, because this portion is obviously wasted," the predator remained seated near the body, but this time he leaned toward the bull's throat, "Anyway, it's too late."

The lion moved the bovine's face aside with his hand so as not to stain it with the sperm drying on it, pressed it to the ground with one hand, and with the other he held his victim's chest and, approaching the muscular neck, sank his fangs into it.

The big cat inhaled the scent of blood, filling his chest with it. His pupils dilated. The expression on his face changed to one of rage and ferocity. The beast was awake. And it would not sleep until the next morning.

The predator clenched his teeth even tighter and tore a piece of flesh from his victim's throat. The bull never regained consciousness, only began to make gurgling sounds, choking on its own blood and twitching helplessly as if it were being periodically electrocuted. The beast did not stop there - after swallowing the piece in its mouth, it went back to the throat and bit into the flesh again. Then again and again. Some of the pieces he spat out, finding something not so tasty and difficult to chew, while others he gladly sent in, greedily licking his own lips and collecting the remains of the blood. In less than a minute, the lying male's neck was destroyed, leaving only a few shreds of skin from his back and the bones of his spine clearly visible. 

The last thing the camera caught was the beast grabbing the horn and pulling it aside, ripping the now useless head from the equally useless body with a crackling crunch. The lion rose to his feet, holding the trophy with a relaxed, semen-stained face and open month in his hand, looked into the camera lens, showed his fangs, then bent down, grabbed the body by the arm, and dragged it through the open door into the house, leaving a bright red trail from the stump of his prey's neck.

The lion's path was not long. First he passed through a large hallway with many doors and a staircase to the second floor. Then another room, which, judging by the old broken bed in the middle and the same unusable cupboards along the wall, was the former owners' bedroom. Then he went into the bathroom. Inside was either a huge round tub or a small pool that could comfortably fit three or even four people. The tub was built into the floor so no one had to step over the edge to get in. It had once brought much joy to the inhabitants as they lounged in the warm water in the evenings, but now the whole place was so stained with blood that it was impossible to tell what color the floor tiles had once been. The beast had found a new purpose for this room - it was his lair, and now he had brought his prey here. He tossed the head into the tub, then shoved the rest of the body in and went back down the hall to continue his hunt. 

It was easy enough to find the second victim - someone was stomping loudly on the floor above.

Part Two: Run

The stag on the second floor paced from room to room to see if he could knock out or break the boards on the windows, but those who had set up this house as an arena had made sure that wouldn't happen. His hands were shaking visibly, he was scared, and every time he couldn't find a way out, he sank deeper into despair. The hope that this was all a stupid joke or that he would be able to escape the danger was fading fast and finally destroyed when, after entering another room, the stag encountered a lion.

The beast stared wildly at his prey. The deer stared back in horror, frozen in place for fear of provoking the predator. The deer could not recognize the lion he had seen a few minutes earlier, and although his body hadn't physically changed, he looked more like a monster from a horror movie. Instead of the upright posture that had once characterized him, the beast was now hunched over, as if he were about to use his arms as paws. Instead of a cheerful smile and a friendly voice, there was a fierce grin and a low growl. A layer of slowly drying blood covered his entire face from forehead to neck, hiding the sandy fur; the only thing that stood out from the red stain on his muzzle were his eyes, with brown pupils and contrasting white around them, staring greedily at the deer.

He was so attractive. His tight shorts did nothing to hide his broad hips, covered in brown fur with small white spots. Slender arms, as if made to be beautiful. Soft white fur on a firm, flat belly, visible between the shorts and the vest. The same white neck, very thin, as if it could barely hold its head with its spread antlers. The deer was born to be prey. So desirable. So appetizing. 

The two stood in the room for a few seconds, watching each other, and finally the beast made the first move. He walked toward his dinner with his usual confident stride, not trying to run or jump at it - the lion knew his prey had nowhere to go. Unlike the predator, the deer's life was at stake, so he shrieked and ran out of the room the same way he had came in. He ran through one room, then a second, then a third, and realized he was lost.

The bed frame on the floor indicated that this was one of the bedrooms. The furniture here was particularly damaged: the closet doors were broken off, the nightstands were in shambles, and the dresser looked as if it had been periodically hit with something heavy - the reason being that there were no other exits from this room, and the deer was not the first victim to be cornered here. The prey looked around, trying to think of at least one option, but the panicked mind gave no clues, while the creaking floorboards under the predator's powerful paws spoke clearly of the approaching danger. 

Thinking he could still run back and get past the beast, the deer turned toward the entrance, but the lion's body had already blocked the doorway and was still approaching. The distance grew smaller and smaller, the victim pressed his back against the corner of the room, trying to gain at least half a second more time, and when the predator came so close that he began to block the light from the bulb mounted on the ceiling, the herbivore squeezed his eyes shut and, in a last attempt to defend himself, raised his trembling hands in front of him. Strangely, the gesture was not in vain. 

The lion stopped a step away from the stag, examined him, and mistook the attempted resistance for an offering. The beast grabbed the slender wrists, one in each hand, brought the right one close to his face, licked the deer's fingers and took them into his mouth. The prey first felt wet saliva on the palm, immediately followed by sharp pain as the lion clenched his jaws at the base of the fingers on the once graceful hand.

The victim screamed and tried to free himself by pulling the hand back but the lion continued to hold and chew until all four fingers were separated from the hand with a horrible slurping crunch. Then, still holding the first portion in his mouth, the lion pulled the deer's other hand toward him and repeated the action, taking his time to tear off four more pieces of meat on the bones. Only then did the lion let go of the prey, as if agreeing to a cruel bargain - flesh in exchange for a few more minutes of life. The beast spat a lump of flesh, bones, scraps of hide, and his own saliva into one of its freed hands, and with the other began to take them one by one, nibbling at them, tearing off a small amount of flesh, and sucking on each bone before tossing the remains to the ground. 

Fortunately for the deer, the lion was too engrossed in this activity to pay attention to his prey. The stag's most basic instincts had been awakened at this point, and he was not going to waste time watching his fingers being devoured. There was a predator in front of him that he had managed to distract, albeit at great cost, so the deer did the only thing he could - he circled the beast on the right side and made another run for the exit. 

He didn't think about where he was running. He didn't think about what he was going to do next. He didn't even think about his mangled hands; in fact, he was pretty sure he was clenching his hands into fists, as he usually did during his morning runs. All the deer could do was run through room after room, kicking the doors between them with his body, hoping to break free of his pursuer, but the deadly race ended when he tripped over a fallen chair in one of the rooms and fell face down on the floor. 

Even under normal circumstances, it was difficult for the owner of the branching antlers to get up from such a position, but with his fingers torn off, it was simply impossible. The deer tried to use his hands to support himself and get off the ground, but his palms only spread apart, slipping on the blood gushing from his wounds. He tried once more, only to hit the ground with his face again. Then again and again. Still the same instincts wouldn't let him stop, he didn't want to die, didn't want to give up, and continued his unsuccessful attempts to get up until they were stopped by a predator who easily found him by the bloody tracks he left behind.

The first thing the approaching lion did was to put his foot on the deer's head, forcing his face to the ground, and use his hands to break off the antlers one by one. As soon as the deer was able to lift his head, he felt an unusual lightness, and a moment later he sensed the strong hands of the predator turning him over on his back. The beast then knelt down beside the deer's head, displaying an erect dick and a dangling pair of balls right in the face of its prey, forcing him to inhale the scent of the predator and letting him know that death would not be quick. 

Tears of despair and fear rolled down the deer's eyes, he sobbed pitifully and tried to move somehow, but neither his tortured arms nor his tired legs allowed him even to crawl away from the predator that towered over him as the lion put his hand around his muzzle, tilted it toward his cock, and brought its head to his lips. In a last attempt to resist, the deer clenched his jaws tightly together, but the beast in his condition could not be stopped by a closed mouth. The predator released the claws on his hands and began to mercilessly tear at his prey's face from cheeks to temples, ripping skin and muscle from both sides. A new wave of pain made the deer want to grit his teeth, but the destroyed muscles did not allow him to control his lower jaw as before.

On the second try, the predator was able to use his victim's mouth the way he wanted. Without any resistance, he drove the entire length into the deer's mouth in one motion, feeling the stag start to cough and try to push the flesh out of his mouth. Then, after enjoying the pleasant warmth and massage for a few seconds, the lion moved forward, leaning on his hands and leaving the shaft in his prey's maw. Something like a 69 pose ensued, but the male obviously wasn't planning on pleasuring his partner. Instead, he approached the exposed part of the deer's flat belly between his shorts and vest, licked the silky fur a few times as if tasting it, then sank his teeth in and yanked his head back, ripping off a chunk of the deer's hide and the abdominal muscles hidden beneath it. The scream of pain that came from the deer's mouth could be heard in the rooms nearby, and even the cock in the mouth could not muffle it, but the tired and tormented prey was unable to do anything but cry. 

The lion, on the other hand, was certainly enjoying himself. He immediately picked up a fast pace, ramming his cock into the deer's muzzle as he continued his meal. After tearing off a few more pieces of the deer's hide, he ran his snout deeper and began pulling out the tasty bits with his teeth. Then, when the hole in the deer's belly had widened enough for the lion's muzzle to fit completely inside, he regrouped, leaned on one arm, and with the other began to use his sharp claws to separate the entrails. As he did so, the lion sorted the organs he found inside: some he tossed aside as inedible, some he bit off and swallowed - but he never tried to eat the whole thing. It was as if the predator was at a buffet where he wanted to try as many dishes as possible, so he picked only small portions.

The deer, whose face the lion continued to brutally rape, felt his life slowly leaving him. His own brain took pity on him and quickly stopped processing the pain signals from the organs torn from his abdomen. After some time, it also stopped sending commands in the opposite direction - the deer could no longer move, only submit to the natural order of things and be eaten by a superior male. Just before he died, the deer could feel the hot sperm shooting down his throat, and at the same time, first a strong pressure, then an unusual emptiness in his chest, as the lion roared and tore out another piece of the deer's flesh, this time the most important one - a weakly beating heart.

Having gotten all he wanted from the deer, the lion pulled his dick out of the dead jaw, releasing a small stream of white fluid mixed with saliva, and rose to his feet, holding in his hand the piece of meat that had made his final beat. Looking thoughtfully at the cooling organ, the male brought it to his mouth, sunk his fangs into it, and tore off the piece as if opening a can of soda with his teeth, immediately spurting out the remains of the blood, staining not only the lion's face, but also his muscular chest and belly. The predator chewed a bit of the tough meat, swallowed a piece, then licked a few times at the remains of the red sauce inside, but as with the other dishes of today's buffet, he had no intention of finishing the meal. 

Instead, he had thought of a better use for the organ - he brought the opened heart to his cock, covered in saliva and sperm, and inserted the head into one of the chambers. The flesh proved to be warm, soft, narrow, slid well thanks to the remnants of red fluid, and only one thing prevented the lion from using his masturbator for real - the walls between the cavities prevented him from entering more than a third of his length. To solve this problem, the lion began to press the bloody piece of flesh against his shaft, moving his hips toward it at the same time. 

The monster growled angrily, applying more and more force to his friction. The camera in the corner of the room captured in perfect quality the muscles of the hands holding the toy, as well as his bulging abs, toned glutes, and powerful thighs. The lion rammed harder and harder into the flesh until he finally won the fight, piercing the heart and protruding the head of his dick, which immediately began shooting fresh sperm from the opposite side of the organ. Most likely, this footage would be sent by the organizers to their perverted clients as promotional material. 

The lion panted for a moment sticking his tongue out of his mouth, then tossed the used meat aside. He took the deer's wrist in one hand to drag it behind him like the previous prey, and picked up the antlers in the other, which seemed to him either a good piece of decoration or interesting entertainment in case he wanted to chew on something out of boredom. On his way, he heard something rustling from a closed wardrobe in one of the rooms, but decided to deal with the second player first before returning to the third.

Part Three: Hide

Mink lurked in the closet, trying to breathe as little and as quietly as possible. Her baggy yellow jacket and similarly baggy green pants, though worn and faded, were still quite bright and obviously couldn't help her disguise herself. Still, she did her best to wrap herself in her clothes: she pulled up her hood, tucked her hands into the sleeves, and sat down, hugging her knees and shivering slightly. Only her frightened face, covered in a white, slightly stained fur, peered out of the cocoon of her clothes, staring into the void. 

The lion walked over to the closed wardrobe and sniffed - it was hard not to recognize his next prey: the smell of the streets of poor neighborhoods, piss-stained alleys, and rotten food from garbage cans, absorbed into her clothes and fur, was too obvious even for those not endowed with canine senses. The beast knew she was there. She knew that he knew. But she had only mastered two skills throughout her life - hiding and waiting - and she saw no choice but to stay where she was. 

The beast was either not in the right state of mind to figure out how to open the doors, or he wanted to scare the mink even more, but instead of just dragging the girl outside, he approached the cabinet from the side and kicked the wall with all his mighty paw. There was a cracking sound as the old boards snapped, and the closet bent, giving the victim a few seconds to cover her head with her hands before it finally collapsed like a house of cards, covering the hiding mink with the shelves.

Her arms ached from the bruises, the wooden shelf began to press hard against her head, the mink squealed in fright but refused to leave her shelter - it was worse outside. The lion didn't want to waste any more time, so he first grabbed the slanting door hanging from its hinge with both hands, then ripped it off with a clatter and threw it to the ground. Then he grabbed the yellow jacket and pulled his helpless prey out. 

Mink was much smaller than the lion - even with her back straight, her head would barely reach the male's chest, but now, shrunken as if to make herself less attractive prey, she was more like a large, colorful ball in muscular hands. The girl squealed and clawed at the cabinet in an attempt to return to her shelter, but this only enraged the beast. The lion grumbled and growled at the girl's annoyingly loud and high-pitched voice and tried to cover her face with his palm, but the panicked mink immediately bit the approaching hand.

The beast growled even louder and decided to take a more violent approach to the problem. He finally pulled the female away from the cabinet, wrapped his hand around her head again, but in such a way that she couldn't reach his palm with her teeth, and immediately slammed the back of her head into the floor. The sound of cracking floorboards echoed through the room, the mink relaxed, stopped struggling, and when the lion removed his hand, it was clear that her pupils, though still moving, could not focus on anything. Finally, the lion could enjoy the stunned mink. 

Without a care for his victim's clothing, the lion unleashed his claws and ripped off her jacket, then her T-shirt underneath, then her pants and underwear, exposing her body covered in white fur. Unexpectedly for her lifestyle, the mink was not thin: her belly was a bit chubby, her wide hips made even more attractive by a small layer of fat, and her breasts were large enough to be of particular interest to the predator. The male walked around the female, kneeling between her legs and leaning over the body of his prey to examine the tantalizingly soft pieces of flesh. 

Like the mink's clothing, the white pelt was stained here and there with dirt, and the scent of the area she lived in was embedded in her fur as if it were part of her own, but the beast was not squeamish - he was used to much less pleasant smells. The male licked the soft flesh first, then took the nipple between his lips and sucked a little, then, as if disappointed with the result, tried to stimulate the tender flesh with his teeth. When that didn't work either, he took more of the white fur-covered meat into his mouth, taking the right breast almost completely, sinking his fangs into it and beginning to pull it away, pressing the mink to the ground with both hands. 

The mink felt the pain somewhere far away from herself, or felt herself somewhere far away from the pain, but at first she didn't even look in the direction of the wound that appeared on her body, and only when the fur and flesh began to tear with a terrible ripping sound was it enough of a trigger for the mink to begin to react. Realizing how much pain she was in, and seeing the beast finally tearing off her breasts and chewing part of her body in his mouth, she squealed again, causing the lion to turn his attention to her.

Angered by the loud noise, though not letting the treat out of his mouth, he again grabbed her head with his hand and slammed it against the floorboards with a loud thud, first once, then a second and then a third time, as if to beat the source of the annoying noise out of her head. When the squealing finally stopped, the lion approached his victim's face, dripped bloody saliva on it, sniffed it, and, satisfied that the mink would not cause any problems in the near future, returned to his pleasure. 

After chewing on the piece in his mouth some more, the lion realized that it had no pleasant taste or texture, so he pulled it out of his maw with his hand and angrily threw it against the wall, leaving a red stain on it, then returned to the lying body. First he licked the wound he had left where the ribs showed, lapping up the blood that had collected there, then he went lower, leaving red stains on the white belly with his tongue, and finally he reached her crotch. Saliva pooled more and more in the lion's mouth, he wanted something tasty and expected to feel the female's juices on his tongue, but she was obviously not aroused and all that remained for the beast was to salivate unhappily on her dry lips to lubricate them at least a little before the next action. 

The small female on the floor was becoming more and more frustrating to the big beast - she was neither tasty nor pleasurable - but the lion planned to get his satisfaction anyway. Remaining kneeling between the female's legs, he straightened his back, grabbed her hips, releasing his claws for a better grip, and pulled the unconscious body toward him, bringing her cunt closer to his cock. When the female was close enough, he took her by her soft sides and with a little precision put her on the head of his dick. 

The mink's small body looked like a toy in the beast's massive hands - the lion hardly had to strain to keep the female's crotch at the required height, and even a small amount of extra fat did not make his task any more difficult. The predator held her body with only the mink's head, shoulders, and arms remaining on the dirty wooden floor, probably picking up a few splinters in the process, and her legs dangling at her sides in a slightly unnatural position, touching the floor with her toes. But there was a downside to the size difference between prey and predator - after he'd inserted his shaft about a third of the way in, the beast felt he couldn't push it any further. And while in a normal situation, with enough lubrication, the tightness of the female could bring pleasure, now the beast was rather angry that he could not go straight to what nature demanded of him - to breed the female he had obtained.

The male growled again, pulled his ass back a little so that only the head of his dick remained in the girl, then tensed his hips and arms to thrust into the female with all his might, at the same time pulling her towards him. It worked a little better this time, his cock going in about halfway, but it still wasn't enough - the beast wouldn't stop until the shaft was completely inside. The lion began to use his cock as a ram, driving it into the small, helpless body in his hands, accompanying his movements with a growl of either anger or excitement. The female's inner walls, unable to withstand the strain, ruptured under the male's pressure, covering his cock with a second layer of blood. Had the mink been conscious, she probably would have howled in pain, but for now she just squirmed a little and occasionally moved her legs apart. 

After a few minutes of this violation, the beast was able to penetrate the female about two-thirds of the way, but he felt the tip of his cock begin to hit something - the female was too small to accommodate the predator's entire cock, but he didn't care about those anatomical limitations either. He gripped the body tighter in his hands, drove his claws deeper into the sides, leaned forward a bit, and continued to rape the victim, putting more and more force into each blow. The lion growled louder and louder, he felt he was ready to cum again, he just needed a little more effort. The soft body swayed in his hands as it was pressed against the hard cock, the veins swollen with tension were visible through the fur on the beast's hands, and after a few strokes he finally managed to break through the obstacle that was hindering him, entering the womb and immediately beginning to fill it with his own seed. 

At the same time, the mink returned to her senses. The previous blows to her head had had a devastating effect on her - she didn't know where she was, didn't understand what was happening, and couldn't even remember who she was. The wound on her chest barely hurt anymore, and its appearance didn't bother the mink at all, as if she didn't know what her chest should look like. The claws that tore at her white flanks didn't bother her much either, maybe they were supposed to be like that. The only thing she was really aware of was the terrible pain of a torn cervix somewhere deep inside. A new wild screech, even louder than before, deafened both the beast and herself - it was as if she didn't realize she was the source of the sound and reflexively reached for her own ears to shield them from the noise.

Again! She was screaming again! She was the cause of the trouble again! The lion was so enjoying the sensation of another orgasm, but she had ruined it. The beast was furious and wanted to solve this problem once and for all. Without removing the female from his own cock, which was now deep inside her, he took her head in his hand again and began to smash the back of it against the ground, doing his best each time to crush the annoying source of the sound. A few blows were enough to knock the girl unconscious again, but the beast didn't want to make the same mistake again and continued to beat her. At first there was a crack of wood under her head, small pieces of wood flew from the place of impact, but the beast did not stop until he heard another sound that satisfied him - the crack of a broken skull.

The beast stopped and let go of her head - the girl's face was relaxed and blood spurted from the back of her skull onto the ground. It appeared that the victim was still barely breathing, but this obviously couldn't last more than a few minutes - the lion could have dragged her safely into his lair by now, but the sight of the pool of blood forming under the victim's head caught his attention. Still on his knees, his cock still inside the female, he let go of her sides, grabbed the body under her arms and pulled her toward him. To the camera in the corner, it looked like an embrace: the victim's legs were next to the predator's legs, her arms hanging limply, and the beast had his paws around the victim's back, pressing her against him so that her head was about level with the top of his chest, the predator's face looking down on her greedily. 

The victim's white skull appeared to be pierced. Large pieces of bone protruded from under the torn skin, and the lion, still holding the victim upright with one hand, freed the other to pick up one of these fragments with a claw and pull it out, opening the skull as if he were opening a coconut. Throwing the piece of bone to the ground, the male grabbed the head with his paw to hold it in place and approached the open wound with his face - something pink, slimy, faintly pulsating and strangely but pleasantly smelling awaited him inside. 

First he licked the wound itself from the outside, tasting the small amount of blood that had collected on the white skin, and then he ran his tongue inside, trying to get some of the new treat out. Surprisingly, as soon as his tongue touched the soft pink flesh inside, the body in his hands twitched violently, as if all of the victim's muscles had tensed at once. The lion felt this spasm with his own cock especially - the girl's inner walls clenched around him along his entire length. The expression on the lion's face changed to one of surprise and interest, and to check the correlation, he ran his tongue inside again, achieving the same result - a pleasant and strong compression around his shaft.

Now the lion liked the female much more than before. The predator tried to move his hips to start fucking the barely alive female again, but moving while kneeling was not very comfortable, and instead he began to lift the girl onto his cock, rocking her body up and down. At the same time, he continued to run his tongue into the wound on the back of her head, licking the sweet, soft mass from there, each time sending new spasms through his victim's body in waves.

The camera in the corner kept filming the white fur-covered toy as it bounced in the man's hands, jerking as if it had been electrocuted. As time passed, the mink's spasms grew weaker, but the lion's movements became more violent - he was obviously about to cum into the female for the second time. It was hard to tell if the mink was still alive and would ever recover if the beast left her alone now, but he dismissed the question when he decided he no longer had enough of the treat he could reach with his tongue. The lion stopped holding the female's head so that her face was resting against the mane on his chest and released a claw on his free hand, plunging it deep into the open wound on her pierced head.

This time, instead of a single spasm, the mink's body began to shake wildly, giving the beast a particularly strong stimulation. The lion used this to thrust his shaft as deep as possible into the pleasantly shrinking cunt, enjoying the massage while trying to find a special spot inside the head that would cause the mink's internal muscles to tense the most. 

The death spasms could not last more than a few seconds, but it was more than enough for the lion. With another loud roar and crunching of the body in his hand, he pumped several more shots of sperm into the female for a second time. Then, as the mink's body finally went limp, this time permanently, the lion pulled out a finger covered in the pink mass and ran it into his mouth, licking it all up with satisfaction. 

After running his finger into the female's head a second time, the beast realized that his toy was completely broken and would no longer squeeze his dick pleasantly, so after licking the brain mass from his hand again, he finally let go of the mink, whose body curved unnaturally and slid off his dick. Some blood with a bit of semen mixed in spilled from the dead vagina onto the ground, while some brain mass spilled slowly from her head wound.

As he dragged the white body down the first floor hallway to his lair, the beast noticed that the door to the room where the game had begun was closed, though he was sure he had left it open. It would take him a few more minutes to get the third victim into the lair, and he would surely return for the fourth.