You're all too familiar with the taste of your own leonine sex. Several minutes now Beth has laughed and teased as she watches you and your father be compelled to pleasure yourselves with your tongues by the magic of her control collar. The pleasure is undeniable. The taste of your own vaginal juices coats your tongue as you lap away against your will.
You try to remind yourself that you are a human. A man. But those thoughts are pushed away with each penetrating lick of your own tongue.
You feel another wave of orgasm coming on, when Beth mercilessly says that you may stop.
Your muzzle as matted with your own juices as you lift your head and look at her angrilly. Your father is across from you, the black panther gagging as its own cum drips from the edges of his mouth.
Beth laughs. "Good kitties," she teases, stroking your sensitive tail.
"Garon," she says softly, patting your father on the back of the head, "why don't you mount this lioness and fill her up with a new generation of cubs".
He whimpers in horror, looking at you with wide eyes. His collar glows, forcing him to stand up and move towards you.