Still whispering into the poor girl's ear, "Or perhaps you want your fellow girls over there," he forces her to meet each of their strange almost alien feline gazes in turn, "to watch you get acquainted with a meat rod they'll be having vivid wet dreams about for the rest of their lives?" As he mentions a meat rod, he turns her head and gaze down to closely investigate his codpiece, which leaves no doubt in her mind that he's clearly inherited more than a passingly small number of traits of the progenitor of his demonic blood, if perhaps not even more than one blood line coming together.