Ravana was the demon king of the Rakshasas and ruled over many other kingdoms from his island fortress of Lanka. Rakshasas are powerful, shape-shifting, animal-headed demons that are reviled for their greedy, power-hungry, hedonistic, and violent ways. The tyrannical Ravana was defeated and slain in battle in a climatic war that saw his empire torn apart, his armies destroyed, and his kingdom reduced to rubble. His many demon offspring were hunted down and killed, except for a single surviving heir, the tiger-headed Rakshasi demon Vanna.
Vanna had survived with the help of a loyal cadre of Ravana's remaining followers, particularly a powerful human warrior named Rana Singh. Rana acted as the young tiger demon's life-long bodyguard, saving her from numerous, near-death assassination attempts. Battling for his ward's life had nearly gotten the stalwart guardian killed many time as well, a criss-crossing pattern of scars across his body testament to the constant life-and-death struggles they faced. During her tumultuous childhood, the only person Vanna could rely on was Rana, and the young Rakshasi soon learned to confide in him as a parental mentor, in absence of her dead father Ravana.
Rana did his best to guide the growing tigress through the political machinations that surrounded her tainted, but fearsome legacy. Many warlords or old loyalists wished to curry favor with the demon king's last known heir, and Vanna used these connections to further her rapidly developing ambitions. The tiger demon displayed a burgeoning intelligence for political matters, intrigue, and deception. Rana began to see a shadow of Ravana's ferocity develop in his tiger companion even in those early years, as she leveraged the competing loyalties of numerous vying factions, many of which simply wished to use her. Through force of will, primal ferocity, and an army of loyalists and mercenaries, Vanna had managed to carve out a kingdom of her own, which she rule from the ruins of her father's lands on Lanka.
Vanna recuperated her forces and rebuilt the once formidable island fortress, establishing herself as the unquestioned queen of the surrounding lands, and developing her skills as a ruler of men. Rana was only one of many courtiers advising the tiger demoness at that point, who flexed her inherited thirst for influence, prestige, and loyalty over her helpless subjects. Rana did his best to guide Vanna towards the path of duty and justice, using their close personal connection from two decades of close personal contact, and the numerous life-or-death struggles they had both been involved with.
Still, Rana felt that every day Vanna was growing farther away from him, and following more closely in her father's bloody footsteps. The old warrior had gotten numerous reports that Vanna was desperately accumulating wealth by any means necessary, extorting honest merchants, mercilessly taxing the peasantry, and colluding with despicable criminal gangs that wantonly preyed on the righteous, all to afford an ever-larger military. Rana knew that history would simply repeat itself, his mighty queen would make the continent bleed and tremble, but eventually a league would form that would defeat her forces, and slay her just as her father was killed. Rana couldn't bear the thought of the ruin of his people and charge, especially when he could still do something about it.
Vanna had grown indignantly agitated by his moralizing and cautioning, shutting him out from her life and keeping him at claws-reach. Rana was increasingly aware that he was failing to prevent a terrible repeat of history, so he thought up a last ditch effort to win some influence over his passionate, impetuous, but intelligent and diligent Rakshasi ward. Rana knew that Vanna was becoming more and more like her father as the tiger-headed demoness aged, but that meant that she may be vulnerable to his same vices as well. Rakshasas are known as wanton hedonists, and Vanna was no different. The furred queen indulged in lavish banquets to her honor, drinking, dancing, and merry-making late into the night. The only vice the determined tigress had spared herself, was carnal pleasures.
Rana knew Vanna plotted to marry a powerful prince in one of the nearby jungle kingdoms. She needed to maintain a pretense of chastity to marry a noble high-born enough to enable her maniacal plans for conquest. He also knew the hot-blooded tiger demon chafed endlessly under her tactically-posed celibacy, and restlessly sought outlets to her bodily passions. Rana had even come to know, due to his intimate relationship and personal connection with the feline-featured woman, that her amber tiger's eyes had wondered over his well-chiseled body numerous times in a wanton fashion. The increasingly aged warrior had never missed a day's training with huge wooden weapons, which had perfected his physique over the nearly five decades he had lived by the sharpness of his sword's edge, defending Vanna. His masculine prowess and paternal care had caught his ward's amour, and though he would never think of indulging such inappropriate intimacy otherwise, the lives of countless people depended on him finding a way to the center of Vanna's heart.
The old warrior knew his plan was beyond stupid, but he was out of ideas or options to stop Vanna's impeding war for glory and riches. With a sigh, the large, tanned, scarred man walked to his queen's royal chambers, using the pretense of delivering her a huge plate of steaming, rare-cooked, bloody steaks. He also brought a large bottle of eye-watering, potent liquor, knowing how much Vanna enjoyed intoxication of every conceivable sort. He felt a deep sense of perverse shame, as he realized how debased his goal of liquoring up the young woman he had protected for the last twenty was, for the purpose of developing an illicit relationship with which to control her with. Rana nearly balked at the threshold to Vanna's chambers, but the warrior summoned up his foggy memories of the many terrible wars under Ravana, and found the steel to continue.
Vanna purposely refused to meet his gaze as he walked in with her dinner, still clearly angry with him over their last terrible argument. Rana cleared his throat loudly, finally eliciting the tiger-headed demon woman to look at him, her large amber eyes staring at him with such fiery fury that he realized she was still absolutely fuming, as she roared out "You think some rancid steaks will smooth over the disgraceful way you spoke to your rightful empress earlier? I should have you made into my steaks!" she finished, giving him her best, carefully honed, withering stare. Wordlessly, Rana raised the large jug of amber liquor and sloshed it about, noting as Vanna's countenance rapidly changed, and she haughtily bade him over with her dainty, furred, hand. He noticed her retractable claws were fully extended still, a clear sign of her continued underlying irritation with his presence, as he carefully approached her recently constructed, incredibly opulent throne.
Vanna snatched the bottle of booze from his hand with neither the grace of a monarch or a lady, and drank it down in several impressive gulps, utilizing her incredible demonic constitution. The tiger-headed demon stared at him as he knelt, still glaring, but bleary-eyed, as she tore into a steak without breaking eye-contact. She hiccuped briefly, then emotionally hissed at him "H-how dare you speak to me as you did in front of the council. You think our past means you can act above your station and... and wait, what are-- Stop that! What the hell!" she blurted out quickly, as Rana wordlessly stood up, and began slowly undressing before her. Vanna was so utterly confused by the sudden move that she didn't know how to process the rapidly changing scene, the expertly emptied bottle of heavy liquor doing nothing to help. Rana stared over his fearsome mistress as he undressed, gazing at her soft, orange-white fur, streaked artfully with black stripes, her simultaneously muscular and feminine frame, her deep amber eyes, and realized that deep down, he wanted this too.
"Stop this disgraceful little stunt immediately Rana! You don't think I'll have you punished I-- Put your pants back on!" Vanna hysterically whispered at him with seething fury, clearly hoping none of the other guards posted outside her chambers would hear. His hands trembled with hesitation as he gripped the rim of his loincloth, Vanna as seemingly caught up in the Rubicon moment of his final item of clothing as well, as he grimly committed and ripped his last shred of decency off. His manhood was surprisingly ready in the moment, likely more from the general excitement of the tense scene than anything else, but Vanna's eyes went wide as his intent fully sunk in. She lowered her orange-furred ears to her head in feline-aggression, but seemed otherwise too paralyzed to react, or even speak, as Rana slowly walked forward, arms out-stretched. He watched her eyes dance over his bared, muscular body, honed from years of diligent martial practice, glistening with sweat from the hot, humid jungle night air, and could sense her confusion and hesitation in the moment.
As Rana stepped within arm's reach of Vanna, the mighty tiger demon batted at his face with her left hand with incredibly alacrity, leaving a trail of long, but shallow gouges across his left cheek and neck. Resolutely, the naked warrior continued forward, as she brought fourth her right, claws more fully extended, and left deeper rents in the warriors face. Rana mused to himself in the moment, that in a week or two the scars would be lost with all the others, as he wrapped his strong arms around Vanna and pressed into her, feeling her luxuriant silk robe gliding across his skin, her soft fur. He inhaled her exotic, spicy scent, and gazed at her lovingly, as her face contorted into a snarl, her huge tiger-fangs clearly bared in menacing promise. Rana continued forward, pinning his life-long charge to her over-indulgent throne, and leaned in to kiss her, as she turned her head away quickly, as he nuzzled at her furry cheek and neck, leaning forward and whispering "Just let your heart and body guide you." as he gently gripped her silk dress, and worked it up her legs.
As his hands worked up to her warm inner thighs and he felt a tell-tale hint of moisture creeping down in her fur, Vanna lunged forward and planted her dagger-fangs on Rana's bared neck, her sand-paper tongue licking at his throat, as she growled wordlessly at him. He reached up his left hand, and gently patted at the back of her head, realizing this nontraditional embrace was his last chance, do-or-die. In that moment, Rana committed himself utterly to saving the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, and his beloved mistress. He knew how he was going to save the city of Lanka, Vanna, and everyone he knew; he was going to have to tame this raging pussy.