Were-Tigress
6. Gulfstream (part 1)
The back balcony overlooked the yard; smallish, wedge-shaped, shadowed by big trees. Surrounded on three sides by fences and on the fourth by our house, a gate on each side. It was kind of a long way down.
“Shit,” Mari said, handed me her boots and clutch, said “hold these”, pulled off her calf-length hose, grabbed me by the waist and fucking threw me over her shoulder, jumped up with me to the edge of our roof, hind claws scrabbling on the composite shingles, and jumped over the fence into our new neighbors’ back yard, cradling me like an oversized baby as we descended to keep me cushioned when we landed, her wrap flapping behind like a cape, or wings, me flooding with pleasure from her compulsions as soon as she grabbed my waist. I saw two people on our back deck look up at us, mouths in prominent “0”s.
We ran to the far corner of our neighbor’s yard, behind all the nice new ornamentals, then Mari carried me over their back fence as she jumped it easily, barefoot in her bombshell leather catsuit and long leather wrap, claws retracted, me holding her ... boots. She put me down. We were now on the back lawn of a professional center, buncha office types behind thick windows getting quite a show if any had been watching. I know one guy taking a smoke break at a rubberized picnic table sure did.
Mari reached for her clutch, pulled out a phone as we walked, punched in some numbers, said into it “Come get me. The office park behind where you dropped me off.”
We walked around the buildings as she continued lacing up her overflowing bodice, then sat at a bench just inside the sidewalk. She took her stockings and boots from me and pulled them on. A yellow-gold Lamborghini drove up. The passenger door opened.
“Find a bus,” Mari said through it. “Go home and take a nap for a few hours. The car will turn up.” The driver, some brogrammer not born within five thousand miles, got out and moved to the sidewalk, looking mournful, befuddled, bereft. Mari climbed into the driver’s seat. The car was a lot lower to the ground than the ancient Alfa coupé in my garage and growled a heckuva lot louder. We roared off. I heard a siren in the distance.
“What was your plan?” I asked.
“I have a Gulfstream at the airport,” she said.
I nodded. “That’ll do for now, though we’ll need to lose this car first. Too visible. I bet you could get us a ride from some coffeeshop.” It would’ve been 25 minutes to the airport, but it took a few minutes more to park in some up-and-coming neighborhood just beyond the airport runway. Mari exchanged looks with a café patron coming out the door for about six seconds, then he drove us. Our halting conversation, which had started on the way, tottered on.
“Bob,” she’d begun, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. You weren’t supposed to be able to break control. And I don’t know why I seem to be liking you so much, or why I’m not just taking what I want, which is all I’ve ever known how to do.”
“I don’t think the spell you got was exactly the one you might’ve thought,” I said. “That witch you visited may have planted something to guarantee that something would go wrong. How well do you get along with her or him?”
Mari grimaced. “Maybe not so well. I might’ve been a little ... forceful, even before I moved into this new form. I can be like that.”
I gave her a few seconds, trying not to nod. “Mari, this new form of yours is incredibly powerful. I know you already have some sense of that, but I don’t know if you understand what a beacon it is, what a temptation for someone with the power to take it from you, to use it to master you, and there are people out there with that kind of power, like your witch friend and probably a lot stronger.”
She looked at me, suspicious, maybe a little threatened, in a way that suggested I’d better not ...
“Not me,” I said. “I don’t need or want that kind of life, and I also don’t ... well, I don’t want to see you get hurt.” That’s about the time we parked at the café. Her gaze was searching, evaluating, wondering, swirling spirals and all, her eyes as enthralling as ever.
Riding together in someone’s back seat barely a minute later, she held my hand, her thumb in my palm, fingers curled against the back of it. Not so much companionably or lovingly as ‘I’m going to extend my claws through your helpless pinioned hand if you so much as hint at wanting to do anything I don’t like.’
“Right now you feel kinda like an unattended nuke,” I said, trying to keep steady, “available for use or misuse by the first bad actor to happen by. And in an airplane your visibility to such an actor will be much greater. It may be just dumb luck or raw speed that you didn’t get taken on your way here, but now I think antennæ will be up and waiting for your return. You need to change back before you take off.”
“And there’s something else ... it’s not just that this amazing new form of yours is vulnerable to the right kind of power ... it might also be vulnerable to affection in ways you’re not used to. And frankly, um ... it might go both ways. I’m a happily married man and don’t want anything about my life to change, but I ... ... your witch friend might have built in these vulnerabilities as a kind of booby-trap.”
“Heh heh, he said boobies,” came a disembodied voice from unconscious past.
“I’ll need to power up before changing back,” Mari said, “the witch made that much clear ... if I don’t I could end up crippled.”
“I’ve been working on that,” I said. “While I was ... um ... eating you out in my dining room, I came to understand something about energy exchange, which we were doing a lot of at the time, and there are many different ways to get energy, not just smoking hot sex. There’s wind flowing over a smoking hot car, for instance, and I was feeding you that on our ride here ... I wondered if you felt it. But I also got a sense for the limits of your were-tigress spell, and, well ... you’ll need more. We both know how.” We got out of the car, Mari ensuring the driver would go quietly on his way without remembering a thing. She was still holding my hand as we walked to the hangar, more companionably now, one finger brushing up and down my palm, which was making me a little weak in the knees and more than a little hard.
“I guess I did sense that,” she said, “I figured it was just the thrill of driving the Lambo, but ... that was nice of you.” She smiled warmly, put her other hand over mine, possessive. “I’ll try to return the favor.” In her boots like this, she was a couple inches taller than me. One more unprecedented tick in a life spinning far beyond normal for me, a tall man, to look up into the eyes of an amorous, powerful, crazy-sexy woman. To say nothing of her spirals making my world spin. She put her arm around my waist as we climbed the steps into her jet.
“Is this your plane?” I asked, “or did you just rent or borrow it or ...”
Her lips closed over mine. There was an enormous bed in the cabin, bigger than king-sized. She put long muscular arms under my fleece, lifted it over my head, wrapped them around me and under my ass, lifted all of my 230 lbs easily. She was so damned strong.
“Get ready, smart guy,” she said, then pushed her tongue into my mouth, let go with one arm to flip a switch behind her that raised the steps behind us, still easily holding me off the floor with her tongue deep inside me but now with just one arm, so much pleasure coursing through me at this new revelation of her power, then with both arms carried me in front of her to the edge of the bed, let go so I fell backwards onto it, and leaned down onto me. She was so damned heavy.
“Take off my wrap,” she said, her eyes half closed, raising herself a little so I could comply.
“Goooood boy,” she crooned, and I felt more tendrils of shivering pleasure. A lot of what she’d told me to feel in response to her words and actions earlier must still be in place. She climbed onto the bed, straddled my stomach.
“Strip,” she said softly, and I drew up my legs to reach past her, removed my shoes, socks, pants, boxers. The fingers of one of her hands inside the neck of my T-shirt, the claws of that hand extended slowly, consciously reminding me of their power, their danger, the backs of her other fingers playing up and down through my t-shirt over my nipples.
“Mmmmmmm,” she crooned, then noticing my eyes locked on hers, said “don’t be shy about watching me work ... enjoy the show, sweet moth. I know I will.”
I tore my eyes from hers, which wasn’t easy, and was rewarded by one of my first opportunities to directly appreciate the vision of her fabulous breasts, the deep canyon between them, still encased in tight, supple leather, nipples showing through as much smaller bumps than I knew they would be when released. Her claws sliced through my shirt. I was going to need some new clothes, and a good thing it was that when she left, as I assumed she still would, she hadn’t shredded more of them.
- Wanda:
“What about my tits?”
- Otto:
“Does he get to handle them?”
- Wanda:
“Yes, he does. That’s my forecast and I’ll stand by it.”
- Otto:
“Would this also involve... nuzzling?”
“Unlace my bodice,” Mari said, and I could not have imagined anything I wanted to do more, but first I placed hands on the leather over her breasts, warmed from inside, so soft, warm, full. I played thumbs back and forth over the bumps of her covered nipples and she smiled, not so much warmly now as a bit wickedly. My fingers moved to untie laces, slowly loosen them. The tip of her tongue traced rich purple lips. She was playing with both my nipples now, and it was like they were connected directly to my groin. I put fingers inside laces to loosen them further, my wrists crossed, hands on breasts even softer and warmer than the leather covering them, learning their weight, heft, firmness. Oh, I could get used to this.
“Mmmmmmm,” she crooned.
I reached new awareness into her, found a place I could feel what she felt, knowing what she already knew she liked as well as what I’d discovered with her today. I rolled her springy nipples between thumbs and forefingers and she moaned, pulled my hands away and lowered her leather bodice partway, nipples now partially uncovered, the upper slope of her magnificent breasts overflowing.
“Lie back, lie still, let me guide this,” she said softly, and I relaxed under her. She dropped the lowest point of her bodice to just under my chin, swelling breasts so close to my questing lips, her hands still brushing my nipples under them. She arched the back of her wrists into the bottom of those succulent breasts, pushing their tops into my lips and tongue. Lowered herself further so my chin, mouth, nose, eyes, forehead were completely enveloped. Within a few moments there was no air left to breathe. I struggled for air and she rose, eyes sparkling, the corners of her mouth turning up.
“Don’t worry, sweet moth, I’m not going to suffocate you again ... your body will remember how that felt and it will help you in the direction I’m taking you now, which’ll be so much less and so much more than where we’ve been before.” She took her hands from my nipples, cupped her overflowing breasts.
“Watch them,” She commanded, and lifted, nipples emerging from supple leather like a dark sunrise, like a second pair of eyes, feral intelligence behind them. “Watch them and remember their hypnotic motion seeping into your hindbrain, whispering obedience, pleasure, submission, so much more pleasure in them, so much pleasure in submission.” And I did, and this time it was like sinking deep into Her incredible swirling eyes.
“My beautiful nipples, so erect, so stiff, so warm. Remember them stiff and hard against you, brushing you, arousing you just as their power over you arouses them. Imagine them, wish for them between your submissive lips, your tongue and teeth gently teasing, and your wish will come true. Feel their power. Feel My irresistible power. Let your body remember the intense pleasure my beautiful breasts can give you in soooo many ways, my beautiful body and mind, feel yourself slipping into their power, your need to let me give you so much pleasure as only I can, so easy to slip into the sights and sounds and feel of me, as you want to soooo much, the only way to experience so much pleasure again. Let my beautiful breasts focus your awareness on that one thing you long for so much, the only thing that matters, your pleasure, my pleasure, which only I can give so much of. Feel your need to do anything I tell you, anything at all to feel so much pleasure again, and again, and again, until nothing else but so much perfect pleasure remains.” Perfect nipples peeking between her fingers, her hands cupping and raising and lowering perfect overflowing breasts. I groaned.
“Keep watching while you finish unlacing me,” she whispered. “Tell me you want to submit to my beautiful, perfect breasts.”
I moaned. This had been so powerful before, seemed even more so now.
“I want to submit to your beautiful, perfect breasts ... Mistress,” my voice said.
“Goooooood boy,” she whispered, sharp teeth behind wicked smile, and I moaned again to hear it, to feel the pleasure of her approval. The front panel of her catsuit fell free from her perfect hips. She let go one perfect breast, reached behind her, slid the tip of one finger and thumb lightly up and down my shaft. “Soooooo goooood,” she whispered, “you are going sooooooo deeeep.” And I was, and it was so good. “When you come, little moth, you will do so without ejaculating until I tell you different,” she said, then lowered a nipple to my waiting, eager lips, and just as she foretold, my lips, tongue, teeth gently licked, sucked, nibbled. Teasing, teasing.
“Oh Bob,” she said with such longing, and came. And I came with her, without ejaculating. Just as she’d directed.
She rose after a minute of sinuous, squirming bliss, told me to climb backwards farther onto the bed, and I did, supine. She lay on her side next to me, leaning into me, her soft breasts enfolding my upper arm, the right one on my chest almost to my sternum, her right hand rising to flex fingers and extend inchlong claws from beneath trimmed purple fingernails, turning her wrist to show them off, then retracted them. Her left arm was under my neck, hand on my far shoulder, claws out and resting there gently, dangerously.
“I’m not going to hurt you, sweet moth,” she said lovingly, wistfully. “Everything I do will be for your pleasure, and you will feel more even than before; my hands, breasts, legs, feet, mouth ... pussy ... and more. Her hand reached down to my cock, resumed sliding the tip of one finger and thumb lightly up and down my shaft. “Soooooo goooood,” she whispered, “you are going sooooooo deeeep.” And I was, and it was so good. This went on for at least a minute, my mind swirling in Her pleasure. Her leather-clad knee came up between my legs, pressed into my balls, gently up and down, in time with her stroking. Then she sat up, moved away slightly, and trapped my engorged cock between her incredible calves. Flexed, squeezing me between. Uhnh. Again, again. Raised chiseled leather-clad legs high across me, raising and lowering each in turn to just touch my cock head, smearing precum, letting me fully enjoy the sight and sensation of Her power. Drew closer, lowered high-heeled leather boots to trap my cock between. Twisted me, alternating up and down. Caught my shaft between hard, cold steel heels. Caressed the base of my balls and perineum with the point of one toe.
Her feet continuing their incredible assault, she leaned to my ear, nibbled my earlobe, whispered “You will come without ejaculating whenever I snap my fingers. Harder each time, ready for more in moments, helplessly lusting more each time. You will lose your mind to the pleasure, the longing, the lust.” She raised graceful hands in front of both of us, extended wickedly curved sharp claws, artfully posed wrists and long fingers, her motions meant to mesmerize. Pressed thumbs and middle fingers together, ready to snap. Continued the slow weaving motion, keeping me on edge.
“Feel the pressure building in your balls,” she hissed, my earlobe between her teeth. “You want to ejaculate but know you can’t, know you have no control, no choice in the matter. Nowhere for that pressure to go but up, only increasing until I command you to release. Watch your cock, watch my sexy leather boots. Watch what my feet are doing to your cock, entrancing it, entrancing you. Feel your cock pulse to the rhythm of my boots, feel it squeezed, feel it surge, feel My control. Let the motions of your controlled cock seep into your hindbrain, chasing any thoughts from what remains of your conscious mind.”
Mari was in an incredible position, balanced in a “V” on her magnificent ass, her legs and torso up, holding herself there with nothing more than the extraordinary muscles of her core. I couldn’t imagine myself in a position like that for more than a few seconds, and she was maintaining it effortlessly, manipulating my cock and balls with her lovely feet with perfect precision the while. A surge of pleasure flowed up and down my spine at yet another new realization of her power.
“Oh goddess,” I breathed.
[DOUBLE SNAP] Oh, I came hard. Without ejaculating. And then again as awareness of Her extraordinary power to do this to me dawned.
Mari lowered her calves to recapture my cock, flexed them with me between, hard enough to make my breath catch.
[DOUBLE SNAP] “Oh goddess!” One orgasm atop the other, each stronger than the last, just as she’d directed.
Mari mounted me through her crotchless catsuit, dripping wet, me sliding easily in. Squeezed her strong center around me, drew her legs under until boot toes and arch tops bound my groin. Pushed my legs apart with only her feet and the gentle urging of sharp claws. Caught my balls between the points of her boot toes. Flexed into them as her pussy squeezed around me, again and again, enormous breasts thrusting forward from her powerful chest like gravity had better things to do than burden them down. She came, gasping, while I fell deeper into mindless delirious ecstasy.
[DOUBLE SNAP] “Goddddessss!”
[DOUBLE SNAP] “Gahhhhhhhh!”
Mari leaned into me, enormous soft warm breasts pressing into my upper chest, flowing around my chin, pushed her long rough tongue into my mouth, pressed mine down firmly, withdrew.
“I’m going to make you cum without ejaculating just by kissing you,” she said, “just one more way I can control you.” She wrapped her legs behind and under mine, reached back to grab her heels, pulling them tight behind her, her powerful legs crushing mine at the groin and lifting my hips, leaned them forward as her breasts enfolded both sides of my chin, squeezed me deep inside her, kissed deep. Lips, tongue, hungry, demanding, dominating, penetrating me even as I was tight inside her. Nibbling my chin with sharp sharp teeth, licking the tip of my nose, capturing my lips between hers, thrusting deep inside to the entrance of my throat. Again and again. It was weird but deeply stimulating, Her intent deep within me even without a fingersnap, I ... came hard, voice quavering, gasping, groaning as she withdrew from my overwhelmed mouth, her smile triumphant.
“Oh Godddddesssss!!”
Mari released her heels, released my legs, raised and lowered herself on my throbbing shaft. Again. Squeezing me deep inside her powerful sex, beginning that amazing oscillation she knew, that I remembered with such astonishment.
[DOUBLE SNAP] “AHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”
She came too, and I came again right after, ecstasy mounting.
“Little moth,” she gasped, breathing harder, forehead dampening from exertion, “you’re getting close to My ultimate orgasm, where I take all your pleasure, your cum, your will, and pour my thoughts, my desires, my dominance into your empty mind, if you have any mind left.”
My breath was coming a lot harder than hers. I was deep in my Aegean pool, drifting near incoherence, surrounded by beautiful forms singing siren songs more beautiful still, draped in ancient billowing robes, young and beautiful as goddesses eternal. Within and without Mari, within and beyond awareness, mine, Mari’s, others.
Never treats me sweet and gentleThe way she shouldI got it bad and that ain’t good
One of the perfect female forms floating in beautiful song with me, who I somehow knew as Euterpe, rolled her eyes.
Mari leaned forward onto me again, sliding higher as she released me below, breasts surrounding my mouth and nose, no air left to breathe. “Come without ejaculating each time you begin to black out,” she said, “each time more strongly. Feel that pressure build within you.”
Boy, did I feel that pressure, awareness remaining in my drifting distant pool, but dissonant to learn that Mari was going to do something she’d told me she wouldn’t.
I was going to tap out on her ass again, but slapped instead, hard enough to sting. She jumped and suddenly there was air to breathe.
“You said ... you wouldn’t ... do that ... again,” I gasped out.
Mari seemed to be having an internal struggle, and I knew pretty much exactly what it was. I mean, here I was on her bed in her own fucking airplane, totally in her power, the cops no more than a couple hours away from grounding us, maybe believing or maybe not that if she got on the plane and flew back to her lair in Minneapolis, with or without me, that she was vulnerable to takeover by a much stronger witch than her. Or me. Or the witch who’d put her into this predicament that was Mari’s own damn fault anyway. Except I wasn’t totally in her power. I mean, sure, physically I was completely helpless, but I didn’t seem amenable to the mental control she’d hoped to have over me. She needed an out, a third option.
“Can we be friends?” I asked. “Instead of one of us being a slave, which I don’t want and I don’t think will be best for you, either. I can help you, big time, but ... if I really have to, I know how to dispel your were-tigress, and if I do that before you’ve received enough energy, it could end up being very bad for you, but I will if you give me no other choice. So I’m just pointing out that both of us have a choice, and if you’re really becoming as fond of me as you say, or, hell, even if you’re not, let’s make this more about being together than about domination.”
Without going out of my doorI can know all things on earth
Mari slithered down my body, took my cock between enormous breasts, pushed her hands against them to gently squeeze me between.
“I don’t know how to do that,” she said, “it’s not a way I’ve ever known.”
My awareness still inside hers even as it continued to drift in that deep warm pool, which was also within her and surrounding us, I could feel her conflict just as I could see it from outside. She’d been hurt, badly, sometime in her past, perhaps even her girlhood, and her need to dominate stemmed from an abhorrence of ever being so helpless again. Well, that wasn’t nearly all of it, she had a lot of turmoil in there with very little so easily assigned cause and effect, but it was a real cause, and she had real conflict resulting from it. I choked up a little.
“Mari, let me help you,” I said, “I would like that.”
Maybe my empathy was feedback, maybe this awareness of her was at least partly two-way, but I could feel it melt her, just a little.
“Have I hurt you at all?” I asked, “even when I had the chance in Minneapolis? You’ve seen how my family and friends are ... we look out for each other. That’s love and trust, not easily earned, not easily learned, but always possible.” She was quiet for half a minute.
The greatest thing you’ll ever learnIs just to love and be loved in return
“You weren’t so generous at my hotel,” she said, somewhat bitterly. “You didn’t want anything to do with me then. Now that I have power over you, now you want to negotiate.“
“See, now you respect meBecause I’m a threatThat’s the way it works.”
“You didn’t show an ounce of compassion then,” I said. “You’ve been gentler with me here, generous, even tender. You have to know you can be loved.”
She looked down, still massaging my cock between cartoonishly large breasts.
“You’ll pay for slapping me like that,” she said ominously.
“Even though you totally deserved it, I was kinda hoping you would say something like that,” I said, hoping to gods and goddesses this would turn out well. I really hadn’t meant to slap her that hard, not that it mattered now the genie was out of the bottle.
She pushed elbows and forearms into the side of her breasts, raised those forearms, showing me her readiness to snap. Pushing, relaxing, pushing. Shit, I would’ve come a dozen times from such sights and sensations in a different situation, heck just about any different situation.
[DOUBLE SNAP] “AAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
She let me recover. Time and awareness of everything beyond Her was phasing back in. “This is going to be fun, little moth ... the most fun you’ve ever had, and I know you’ve already had a lot with me.” She put both hands on my chest, flexed fingers, extended all ten claws, pumped me like the damned cat she was, said “You. Stay. Here.”
I. Stayed. There. She came back carrying a box, opened it. “Close your eyes,” she said, commanded. I did. Whatever she was doing involved a bit of rustling and a few snaps. Not fingersnaps, or lying there would’ve been even more exotically fun than it already was.
“Open,” she said, and I did. She wore a strapon, about as long as me but slender, dark, bent at one end. Shit, fuck, damn, random curse word.
“I don’t want this,” I told her.
“Little moth, have I done anything with you today that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had? I promise I will make this absolutely delicious for you ... you might have no idea what secrets your body holds, but I do. You want me to trust you, you need to trust me.”
Oh fucking fuck fuck fuckity fuuuuuuuuucckk. Hoist by my own fucking fuck ... petar!!