The next one was Maya.
"U-Um... I want you to take me, Master," she whispered, voice small and trembling with that delicious mixture of shyness and want.
Maya was the sort who slid into submission like it fit her bones—quietly eager rather than loud and demanding—and that fit her personality to a T. She was a ram beast-woman. She was thick, curved, and built in a way that felt almost unfair. Her chest was enormous, her ribs and hips rounded in a slow, heavy arc. She carried weight like a promise. Rumor had it the cow-beast women were the ones with the biggest jugs in the Beast Kingdom, and being closely related, Maya's rack leaned into that rumor with joyful force. It made her feel fertile and full, and, not going to lie, it put her squarely at the top of my list for tonight.
"Alright then, if that's what you want," I said, watching her closely.
