Kai stroked her ear.
"Let her keep going," he replied in a low voice. "Let everyone see what happens when a broken alpha tries to hide what she feels."
Mira passed by Sylva again while returning with another empty bucket. This time the "accident" lasted longer: she grabbed the entire tail and pulled slowly, from the sensitive base all the way to the fluffy tip.
Sylva folded forward with a choked scream, squirting another hot jet that splashed the dirt. Her heart-shaped pupils throbbed frantically, face burning red up to her ears, broken purring escaping without control.
Everyone watched.
No one helped.
And Sylva, trembling from head to toe, knew she could no longer hide anything.
Midday scorched the village. The sun beat straight down on the central clearing, heating the ground until dry dust rose in slow waves. The catgirls worked in tense silence: some hauled firewood, others scrubbed latrines with heavy buckets. The air smelled of feline sweat, hot earth and the lingering musk from the previous night.
Nia stood near the well, white tail lashing irritably while she supervised one of the newcomers —silver ears, lean but muscular body, a former warrior of Sylva's clan named Ryn. Ryn dropped a bucket with more force than necessary; water splashed across Nia's boots.
"Did you do that on purpose?" Nia hissed, ears pinned back, pupils narrowed to slits.
Ryn straightened, baring small fangs. "If you don't like it, do it yourself. I'm not your servant."
Silence shattered. Nearby catgirls turned their heads, tails raised. Nia stepped forward, claws sliding out.
"Say that again," she growled.
Ryn didn't back down. "I'm not your servant."
Nia lunged. Claws extended, tail whipping. Ryn met her head-on: claw against claw, bodies crashing in a whirlwind of fur and snarls. They rolled across the dust, nails raking shoulders and arms, tails tangling. It wasn't a death match; it was fast, feline, packed with pent-up rage. Nia drove a knee into Ryn's stomach; Ryn sank teeth into Nia's forearm, drawing a guttural growl.
Kai appeared at the edge of the clearing. His shadow fell over them like judgment.
"Enough."
The rough voice sliced the air. Both froze, chests heaving, dust clinging to sweat-slick skin.
Kai walked forward slowly. The others formed a silent circle, low purrs buzzing with anticipation.
"Who started it?" he asked calmly.
Nia rose first, one ear bleeding lightly. "She provoked me."
Ryn spat dirt. "She treats me like trash."
Kai looked at both of them. His cock stirred beneath the fabric as he caught the sharp cocktail of sweat, blood and unwilling arousal rolling off their bodies.
"The pack doesn't break over pride," he said. "It breaks over disobedience. The loser pays."
He pointed at Ryn. "You lost. Lick Nia's feet. Now. In front of everyone."
Ryn trembled. Her pupils flared into fleeting hearts before she dropped her gaze. She crawled to Nia, who sat on a nearby stone, bare feet extended.
Ryn knelt. Her rough tongue slid out slowly. She licked the dusty sole of Nia's foot, from heel to toes. The taste was salty, earthy, warm. Nia purred low and victorious, toes curling to brush against the tongue. The newcomer licked deeper, cheeks flaming, her pussy betraying her with a visible thread of wetness sliding down her inner thigh.
Everyone watched. Some purred; others squeezed their thighs together.
Kai observed, cock hardening fully. He thought: This is how they learn. Public humiliation. Visible submission.
When Ryn finished, lips shining with saliva and dust, Kai spoke.
"Next time it won't be feet. Next time the loser takes my cock in her mouth. In front of everyone."
Heavy silence.
Ryn remained kneeling, shaking, heart-shaped pupils pulsing out of control.
Nia stood, purring with satisfaction.
And the village returned to work.
But the fresh scent of new submission hung thick in the air.