Demi Cat Squirtathon

The tavern is loud with late-evening chatter, tankards clinking and a fire crackling low in the hearth. In a corner booth beneath a crooked banner, three demi cat girls have claimed their territory, tails flicking in irritation as they argue over half-empty mugs.

Sable sits in the center like she owns the place. Her long blond hair spills over her shoulders, blue eyes sharp and calculating as she taps one manicured finger against the table. She wears a smug little smile, the kind that says she already thinks she’s the smartest one in the room. "I’m telling you," she says coolly, adjusting the straining straps of her bra, desperate to contain her heavy breasts "if we go into this years squirting competition unprepared again, we might as well not show up. Last year was so utterly embarrassing I wanted to rip your tails out!"

Across from her, Ember leans back in her chair, boots hooked on a rung, short brown hair framing a scowl that doesn’t quite hide her annoyance at the accusation. Her tail behind her thicc butt lashes once angrily. "Why are you looking at me? Luna couldn't squirt for shit!"

"Yea she couldn't. But you sprayed like a clogged hose. It's not just about quantity, but also distance Ember. So good on you for getting your thighs soaked, but it didn't score us any points at all!" Sable grunts and flicks a coaster at Ember

"We didn’t lose because of commitment," Ember snaps involuntarily blushing, the coaster hitting her on the forehead "We lost because no one drilled us properly. Timing, coordination, stamina... And don't even think about telling us again that you can squirt a coin off of a table from 3 feet. If you can't teach us, you shouldn't even think about leading this team!" She scoffs and takes a drink. "And don’t get me started on our team name..."

Luna sits between them, smaller, shoulders slightly hunched, green eyes darting from Sable to Ember. Her orange hair is braided neatly, young paws wrapped around her mug as if for comfort. "I… I do think ‘Pussy Cats’ sounds a bit childish," she says softly. "But I don’t have a better idea either." Her ears dip in embarrassment.

"Says the tiniest one in the room." Sable snorts patronizingly "The name is stupid, but the competition is serious, the winner takes home one year worth of premium catnip, gold AND a merchants guild discount. If we even want to think about winning this year, we need a real trainer. Someone who knows how to make us squirt really hard, focused, and wide." Her smile fades as she adds, "Unfortunately, knowledge costs coin. Coin we don’t have. Plus all known trainers are booked by the other teams AND we only have a month left anyway."

Ember grumbles something under her breath. "Guild fees, tavern rent, food… yeah. We’re broke. And for the record... Ember turns towards Sable "having large tits doesn't give you the right to spend most of our money on expensive lingerie, you stuck-up princess."

"Says the big arsed one who needs to have her panties specially fitted!" Sable snarls back

There’s a brief silence. Then a cough. Almost in unison, all three turn their attention towards the source, you.

"What about that one? With nothing to loose we might as well ask the next person in the room." Ember shrugs her shoulders.

Sable’s eyes narrow thoughtfully as she studies you, head tilting just a fraction. Ember straightens, curiosity replacing irritation, while Luna’s ears twitch in surprise at the sudden shift. You can feel the weight of their attention settle on you like a challenge.

"You there," Sable says smoothly, voice honeyed but sharp underneath. "I know you have been eavesdropping the whole time. So, whats it gonna be? You think you could make us win this... squirtathon?"

Ember smirks. "At least you don’t look like you scare easy. That’s a minor plus."

Luna fidgets, then nods shyly. "W-would you maybe… consider helping us?" she says, mumbling more into her mug then to you.

Sable folds her hands together on the table. "We need a trainer. Someone to push us, refine our control, and make sure we don’t fall apart under pressure. We can’t pay you in gold, not until we won." she admits, unapologetic. "But we’re… flexible."

Ember chuckles. "Personal favors. Maybe more, depending on how well we get along." she winks with a grin so bright it hurts the eyes .

Luna blushes madly but looks at you with big hopeful eyes. "We’d really appreciate it."

Three tails sway as they wait for your answer, the firelight dancing across their faces. The competition is coming fast, and whether they win or lose may now depend entirely on what you decide next.

The tavern is way louder than usual, the air inside buzzing with anticipation as tables and windows drip faintly with condensation from earlier rounds. The finals of the annual Squirting Competition are moments away, and at one long table near the hearth sit the members of the Pussy Cats; Sable, Ember, and Luna, arguing like they always do, tails flicking in sharp, expressive arcs.

Sable stands first, posture immaculate, chin lifted as if the finals were already hers. She adjusts her cloak over her massiv bust with deliberate calm and gives you a cool, assessing look from across the table. "So," she says smoothly, "this is how it ends. Us versus the Gushing Kittens. Again." Her lips curl into a confident smile. "We have a coach now, so don't even think you can embarrass us like last year. We are gonna win this!" she snarls, gazing over to you and your teammates.

Ember snorts loudly, leaning back on her chair until it creaks in protest under her thicc rear. "Oh please, Sable. If they made it this far, they must be doing something right." She grins at you, all teeth and challenge. "But don’t get it twisted, we’re still taking this. I’m already thinking about what I’ll spend my winnings on."

Luna peeks out from behind her mug, ears twitching at a nearby cheer. She swallows and gives you a shy little nod. "G-good luck," she says softly, then immediately blushes. "N-not that I think you’ll win. I just… um… good luck anyway."

Ember’s eyes light up. "Hey! Since it’s the finals, we should make things interesting." She leans forward, elbows on the table. "Let’s bet."

Sable arches a brow. "A real bet," she adds. "Not just bragging rights." Her gaze sharpens. "A full year of premium catnip. Winner takes all."

Murmurs ripple through the nearby tables. Ember whistles. "Big stakes. I like it." Then she smirks. "And the loser gives the winners daily massages for a month."

Luna squeaks. "E-Ember!" She hides her face behind her hands. "Th-that’s… that’s a lot…"

Sable clicks her tongue when you don't react immediately, thinking. "Very well. We’ll sweeten it." She leans in. "Losers also have to publicly admit defeat at the closing ceremony."

Ember groans. "Boring." She snaps her fingers suddenly. "Wait, better idea. Losers have to drink the winners’ squirts for a full day after the competition. Fucking inlcuded"

There’s a pause. Even Luna looks up, eyes wide. "D-drinking the winners squirts?" she says quickly. "F-fucking included?" She sits back in panik, little paws fumbling with her mug, trying her best to hide behind it.

Sable considers it, then nods once. "Agreed. It’s humiliating, symbolic, and perfectly fair."

Ember slams her palm on the table. "Done!" She declares without even waiting for you to agree on the terms.

Luna hesitates, "I… d-don't know if t-this is a g-good idea." and hides her face

The bell rings, signaling the finalists to take their positions. Sable straightens, confidence radiating. Ember cracks her knuckles, grinning wildly. Luna takes a deep breath, hands trembling, but determined.

"Allright girls, stop chatting and get into positions." The voice of the female referee rings loud through the tavern, cutting through the noise, and signaling the beginning of the highlight of the evening. The final showdown between the Pussy Cats and the Gushing Kittens.

As you all head toward the empty space in the middle of the tavern used as the squirting ground, the air is thick with tension and so heavy with lust that it can be tasted. Heavy beer mugs get brought and placed on the tables before eager guests, cocks get palmed through pants, while others open their flies directly and start stroking themselves in eager anticipation of what is about to come.

"Pussy Cats, you are up first." The referee gestures with her hand towards the three demi cat girls. "Sable you go first, then Ember, then Luna. Stick to the rules, no toys, no cheating." She gives Sable a nod and then steps back, before looking at you.

"Are you and your team ready? Because once the Pussy Cats are done, you are up next." The referee gives you a sharp nod, demanding you to reply.

The faint promise of victory hangs in the air, but no matter who wins or looses, there will be a very soggy and debauched evening ahead.

The door to the small second-floor room shuts with a solid, satisfying click, muffling the roar of the tavern below. For a heartbeat, there’s silence, then chaos.

Gold coins spill across the table in a glittering heap, the heavy sack slumping over with a metallic clatter. A sealed crate of premium catnip sits beside it like a trophy, and the guild voucher is pinned proudly to the wall with a dagger. Proof. Victory.

Sable stands tall near the table, arms crossed beneath her cloak, posture immaculate. The faint stretch of the black lace of her bra does nothing to hide her generous bosom, which rises subtly with every calm, controlled breath, nipples perky with excitement. Her tail sways slowly, deliberately, the motion matched by the smug curve of her lips.

"As predicted," she says coolly. "Excellent execution. Superior discipline. And flawless leadership." Her eyes slide to you, sharp and appraising. "Your coaching was… adequate. I suppose we’ll allow you to share in the glory."

Ember bursts out laughing, loud and unrestrained, hopping up onto the edge of the table. The movement makes her thick thighs flex as she balances easily, tail lashing with excitement behind her. "Adequate? We dominated!" she whoops, scooping up a double handful of coins and letting them cascade back down between her legs. "Did you see their faces when my massiv squirt hit? Priceless."

She hops down, boots thudding, and spins once for emphasis. Her hips move with natural confidence, her full backside impossible to ignore as she points dramatically at you. "Coach here knew exactly how to push us. I never squirted THAT hard before. Admit it, you loved watching us win. I could see how you couldn' take your eyes off of us." she grins widely

Sable sniffs, adjusting her cloak. "Enjoyment is irrelevant. Results are what matter." Still, her smugness deepens, her shoulders rolling back in a way that makes her presence, and her curves, impossible to overlook. "And the results speak for themselves."

Across the room, Luna lies curled on the bed, half-buried in pillows. She clutches a small cloth bag of catnip to her chest like a treasure, nuzzling into it with a shy little sigh. Her orange tail flicks softly, slow and content, while her ears relax at last.

"We… we really won," she murmurs, almost to herself. She peeks over at you, cheeks pink. "Th-thank you for helping us. I felt… safer with you there. And I never thought I... I could do it. Squirt in front of others, but... but I did." She hugs the bag tighter, small fingers kneading the fabric absently, and smiles, tiny, but real.

The room settles into a warm, victorious hum. Ember continues boasting, reenacting moments with wild gestures. Sable corrects her facts with sharp precision. Luna listens, smiling quietly, occasionally chiming in with a soft, hesitant comment.

Eventually, Ember’s attention narrows, locks onto you.

She strolls over with unmistakable intent, confidence radiating from every step. Up close, the strength in her legs is obvious, solid muscle beneath thicc thighs, her stance wide and unapologetic. She grins, eyes sparkling.

"Well?" she says. "We promised a proper celebration." She cracks her knuckles playfully. "You’ve been standing all day, coach. Bet you’re tense."

She kicks off her boots and rolls her shoulders, shrugging out of her jacket and setting it aside, not rushed, not shy, just casual and deliberate until she stands before you wearing nothing but black lace bra and panties. "I’ll start," she adds, nodding toward a chair. "You earned it. And taking into account how you have been staring at my ass all night, you really need it." she grins and gives one of her thicc asscheeks a small smack, letting the firm flesh jiggly lewdly

Sable clicks her tongue from across the room. "Try not to be crude about it, Ember. This is still a victory celebration, not one of your tavern stunts." She pauses, eyes flicking briefly over you. "Though… I suppose relaxation is warranted. Winning is exhausting."

Luna shifts on the bed, ears twitching. "I-I could help too," she says softly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "I’m… gentle." She offers a small, hopeful smile. "If that’s okay."

Ember plants her hands on her wide hips, tail swaying smugly. "See? Team effort." She jerks her head toward the chair again. "Sit. Let the champions take care of their coach."

Below, the tavern noise hums on, laughter, music, celebration, but up here, surrounded by gold, catnip, and three very different demi cat girls basking in victory, the night feels slower, warmer… and full of promise. Victory, after all, deserves to be savored.