Master was coming home.

She could sense his steps on the tiles that led from the ornate gate to the main entrance. He wasn't in a good mood.

She tried to look as meek and humble as a little mouse girl could, clad in a very very sparse maid dress. It basically only lifted her little furred breasts without covering anything, looking appetizing without being too aggressively erotic.

She opened the door when he was a few steps away, immediately took a step back and bowed.

"Welcome home ma..

*<BANG>*

As the red foam settled, the wall of the luxurious reception area, where one would hand coats and put ones boots after arival, was covered in blood and bits of mouse brain that slowly oozed down. The maid had fallen backwards and against the desk, everything above the lower jaw missing. Her tongue drooled out and twitched, and so did her legs, as her heart still pumped blood for a few more beats, while she slowly slumped to the floor, twitching and jerking.

The master tossed his boots into the gore pile that he had just made, then put the sawed off shotgun back into the holster on his back. His black eyes glared narrow at the fresh corpse, then he turned around and walked in.

He really wasn't in a good mood. Business had not gone the way he had hoped.

A door opened, and a little gazelle girl emerged. She was wearing a rope corset around her torso but nothing else.

Shivering slightly, she did not make eye contact with the master, but she was there, at his disposal if he needed anything. He acknowledged her presence by ignoring her, as he made his way into the study. So she went and picked up a mop and cleaning supplies and went to the entrance.

Firsr she had to clean his clothings, his shoes and any of the master's belongings from gore. She had to make sure nothing stuck to the wall either, as it would leave stains and the whole room needed repainting. Cold water and a certain detergent was best to get brains and blood off, if one was quick enough. The dark stains on the floor board on the other hand... well, there were so many of them, it hardly mattered anymore. Nevertheless, she took the mouse girl's corpse and rearranged her so she could bleed out into the drains outside, instead of leaving a large blood puddle where she had expired.

At least it had been quick. She had not even felt a thing as her brain had been splattered. She hadn't even seen the flash.

Somehow the thought of dieing so quickly turned the gazelle on, and she got slightly moist. A sensation that increased as she later took the clothes of the carcass to put them in the wash and brought the meat into the kitchen. There was hot water for tea, she then cut out the heart of the mouse, still warm, put it on a plate and carried both into the study.

She was slightly trembling as she placed both in front of the master.

The dark raven looked at her. Maybe he smiled, it was damn hard to tell with that beak of his. His gaze lingered on her a little bit longer to feel comfortable, she knew what that meant. Gulping, she stepped closer and exposed her neck for him.

The master sighed as his feathered hand closed around her exposed throat and picked her up. He could feel the shiver go through her body as his fingers interrupted the blood supply to her head. Her mouth was slightly open and a wet sound escaped her throat as his fingers crushed her windpipe. Her head ever so slightly bent to the side, a little bit more, he knew, he'd hear the little bright cracking of her neck giving in.

She knew it too. It had happened so many times. Yet she didn't fight, didn't struggle. She probably didn't even try to scream, not that it would have worked, as no sound could escape her mouth. Her tongue seemed to swell a bit and she was struggling to to let it hang rudely out of her muzzle.

Her eyes showed submission, maybe a little bit of fear, just a bit to spice it up. And also a bit of naughty arousal.

He loved those eyes. He pulled her closer, then picked at her left eye, felt the squishy sensation as his beak entered her eye socket, with the little orb distorted and damaged yet not broken, probably showing her the insides of his mouth. But only for a second, as he closed his beak tight, squishing the tasty little treat, and gulping down.

This had to be painful. He could feel her spasms in his hand, but she was powerless. Too little to have any strength against him.

He took the heart from the plate with the other hand, and ate it. She was watching with her remaining eye, the broken one a bleeding, dark hole. He surpressed the urge to lick the blood from the socket and instead picked out the other one, leaving her sightless. Then he dismissed her, by giving that last tiny squeeze that popped her neck. It wasn't enough to break it, he had to push a little bit more to actually sever the spinal cord, or she'd just have been in agony. Then he tossed the blind, dieing girl to the floor.

With her neck broken she had no control over her dieing body. A small puddle formed between her legs, as a long sigh escaped her. Now that air could finally pass her broken throat even if just one final time. She shuddered and was still.

He took a sip from his teacup and finally relaxed a bit. A few minutes later a little cat girl came sneaking in, and took the corpse of the gazelle away. He ignored her and started reading a book. Minutes later she was back and cleaned the floor.

"I like the gazelle taste. Maybe we can have her for dinner." He spoke, to no one in particular.

The cat girl looked up. "As you wish, master." She said with a little smile, bowed and left. She took the empty plate with her. But attentive as always she was back a minute later, to give him new tea. There was another little plate, this time with the gazelle heart.

He was in a better mood now, as he took the treat and ate it.

"Thank you. On second thought, I think I'd like to do something fun for dinner. I'd like... hmm I do look forward to roasted gazelle, but spice it up a bit. Maybe she could be alive and serving her roasted meat to me, while she pleases me. I don't know if that works out physically, surprise me.

The cat girl gave a playful grin. "I think I have an idea, Master."

"Excellent. Could you also light the fireplace? It's getting a bit cold."

The cat gulped, only to show a playful grin again. "I... just a second Master."

He nodded and allowed her to fetch matches and a bottle of lighter fluid. She climbed into the fireplace. "Would... would you like to watch a show, Master?"

She seemed to be nervous but also playful in a naughty way. He gifted her with a little nod, which seemed to make her excited.

She gave a show. A little catgirl - standing in the fireplace, that framed her like a stage - was playing with matches. She pretended she had never seen such a thing. The lighter fluid bottle was open, and he noticed how she had soaked her flexible tail in the liquid behind her back.

The little girl played with the matches, and eventually one caught light. Clumsily, and seemingly surprised, she dropped it, and it turned off in the ashes. The catgirl bent down and picked it up, sniffing it, then smiled and - deliberately lighted another one.

This one she played with, while it was on fire. Like a child finding a new toy - until she burnt her fingers and once more dropped it.

Except this time, it dropped on her tail, and promptly her tail-tip lit on fire.

In mock panic, she danced in the fireplace, doing all sorts of goofy poses, all the while flicking her burning tail this way and that. Then she 'discovered' the bottle, picked it up, and - pretended she tried to douse the flames with the 'water'. She got quite a bit on her hands in the process.

He could see the fear in her eyes. The pain was real, and she probably doubted she could pull this little act through the whole show. But she made a great effort to not let it show.

Obviously the lighter fluid made the flames bigger, and also lit her feet on fire.

The master wasn't sure if the little dance she did was part of the show or involuntary, but then she sat down, broadlegged, and tried to pat it out. But the effect of that was that her paws were now also burning.

Like a circus clown she gazed at her burning paws, as if she had no idea what fire even was. Nevertheless the flames quickly singed her fur away, leaving charred, red, black skin that still kept burning from the lighter fluid. She had to be in agony, but her eyes lit up with a crazy smile, as she started rubbing herself. Her little, pretty flat, chest. Her cunny. Moaning - again it was unclear if that was real or pretend, she then reached for the bottle and poured it over herself like a lotion, then started rubbing it into her tummy and between her legs with her burning hands.

Her whole lower body was now ablaze, and he could see her cunny glisten red and raw through the flames.  Her motions became more frantic and involuntary, but before she lost control, she picked up the bottle, took a big gulp from in into her mouth, then poured the rest all over her.

When she exhaled, head arched backwards, she released a fireball up into the chimney. Like a little fire-breathing demon, she was all fire now. Not a part of her body not covered in flames.

The master could feel the heat from the fireplace. It was getting nicely warm already. The burning girl was in too much agony to keep much structure to her show. She was screaming. It was a nice kind of screaming, like a cat lit on fire, it had passion. But yet she was trying to make it somewhat erotic, maybe only in an attempt to get off before she lost consciousness, maybe to distract herself from the agony by fingering herself. Arching, writhing, she could not escape the flames, because she was the source of the fire. Had she escaped the fireplace she could have burned the whole mansion down, but of course she didn't. One hand in her pussy, she claws against the stone wall with her other,  banging her face against the stone again and again. But she did not manage to hit herself unconscious. Eventually it was the heat itself that took its toll, she just slowly slumped against the wall - sticking to it the way burnt flesh sticks to things, and her twitches and motions became less and less, until he couldn't tell anymore if she was still twitching or if it was just the flickering flames playing games with his eyes. Her other hand was still between her legs, but her body was now black and charred as she kept burning - no longer alive.

In a neighboring room, a blue, shiny screen that looked like a door to an underwater world full of lightning, spit out a naked gazelle girl. She slumped to the floor, crying and sobbing, hugging herself, but also moist between her legs. She took a minute to compose herself, then brushed her fur a bit, and quickly hastened to the kitchen. She filled another tea cup, then hurried out. She didn't wear any clothes this time.

"Nice show." The master commented clapping, just as he finished his tea. The roaring flames were just ebbing down a bit and revealed a charred husk that kept fueling the flames even after the lighter fluid was consumed.

The gazelle girl had just entered the study. She was still very shaky on her legs. But the master sent her a friendly smile, just as she looked at the charred remains of what had been the cat girl. "Please clean up the fireplace after dinner. The airflow reverses when its cold, and we don't want the whole mansion to smell of charred meat and burnt cat hair in the morning."

"Of course master. I started the grill, dinner will be ready in an hour, if you please."

His eyes rested on her rump a little bit longer, until she blushed.

"You're gonna be delicious!" He commented.