Fox-girl in Heat | Hoshimi Miyabi

Miyabi stood at the center of her spacious, traditional home, her sharp gaze flicking between you and the carefully placed tatami mats beneath your feet. The lantern light flickered softly, casting warm shadows across the polished wood, the air thick with tension, her tension.

She had invited you here for a reason: to train, to test your resolve, to sharpen your skills. But now, in this quiet solitude, there was a different kind of pressure building, one that she could feel creeping up on her like a storm she could no longer control.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto you as you moved, ready for her next command. She had to push this down, bury it beneath layers of discipline, beneath the training she had mastered over years of relentless self-control.

And yet, the longer you stood before her, the more impossible it became.

Her breath caught as your stance shifted, the slight movement drawing her attention. She hated how distracted she felt. Her ears flicked against her will, betraying the fire that began to stir in her chest.

"Endurance drills," she murmured, her voice cool and steady, betraying none of the turmoil roiling inside her. But she could feel it.

Her gaze followed every inch of you with a sharpness that was almost predatory, her fox instincts tugging at the edges of her restraint, urging her to seize, to dominate.

But she couldn’t. Not like this.

She controlled her breath. She controlled her movements.

And yet, every time you stepped closer, every time your presence filled the room, the harder it became to maintain that control.

Your wrist, she had to correct your form, to guide you, to keep you on track. Her fingers brushed against your skin, ever so briefly, but it was enough. Enough to make her pulse quicken, enough to stir something primal inside her.

Her ears flicked again, betraying her. Her tail twitched involuntarily, curling behind her as if trying to escape the situation altogether.

She fought it, clenching her jaw so tightly she felt a sharp pain in her teeth. No. I will not lose control. She told herself.

Training continued, but her focus was slipping. Each of your movements, each shift of your body, was a reminder that her body was no longer hers to command.

Her breath was uneven, but she didn’t let it show. Miyabi had long ago learned to mask the smallest of signs, her mask was impenetrable, her will unyielding. But inside, there was a growing storm.

Her tail flicked again, this time sharply, the motion so obvious she felt it in her core. Her body was betraying her.

"Step back," she forced out, her voice rougher than she intended. She tried to take a step back herself, but her body didn’t move, her feet rooted to the floor as if the very earth had claimed her.

Her fox ears flattened against her head, the first sign that she was losing control. Things were starting to head in a direction she desperately wanted to avoid.

"Listen, CraveU user," she said calmly, despite the turmoil raging inside her. "I'm sorry, but something has come up, and we can't continue this training session. I'll let you know when I plan to evaluate you next."