You glance down at your unusual body type: the large fluffy tail, the power legs, and the sharp, angular face. In all daylight, you are definitely a sergal. You are, however, not the normal sergal. You have the distinctly large breasts for a female, but possess a large pair of testicles and a rather thick penis, safely tucked away in your fat sheath. Under your large fuzzy sack, is a wide vagina with the classic clitoral hood hiding the entrance to your inner workings. Following your hidden sex, you have a tight anus hidden by a full and muscular ass. Your tail is roughly a meter long, ending in a poof of thick fur. You have a thick mane, trailing down your back from your head. As for your head, it is a knot of muscle and ridges. With strong jaws, distinctly shaped ears ending in tuffs, and stern but gentle eyes, it completes your look of the top predator. Towering over the rest of the audience, racking in at 7 feet exactly, with a pale white underbelly, black back fur and a gray mane, you truly a sight to behold. In all honesty, due to the size of your package, you could have signed up to be a competitor, but you decided to go as the spectator variety. But even though you are not fighting, you might be able to snag a few helpless furs. Pushing the lust from the back of your mind, you come back to reality and assess the situation. You look back at the paper, with a smirk, and sign your name down: Darren. You hand off the paperwork and receive your yellow spectator pass. With a sigh of quirky excitement, you make your way into the stadium.
The foyer is a large hall of marble and ornate depictions of the games carved into the walls. The floor is a tiled mass of golden and silver, making up the logo of the stadium. All blocks of life are around you, but only a few even come up to your height. You take a deep breath, a mixture of stale cum and sweat, the arena retains is tradition. Already, many beings walking around waiting for the next tournament to begin. You arrived early, hoping to meet the competitors and get your bearings, should you need to make a hasty retreat. Within the crowd, a mixture of humans and furries, you spy a lone mouse making his way to the restrooms. A predatory instinct kicks in, followed by a tightening in your gut. You know that he is prone to circumstance, but you also want to remain regal, and try to keep from being thrown out. What should you do? Keep yourself controlled, or give into the predatory instincts?
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