Cougar Country

This story has the same lead character as Cougar Town but I think it will stand alone. It takes place about 15 years later. It has adult content.

"I hope Vivian won't be there." John said.

"You know she will," replied Branwen. "The conference is in the same city as her office. You need to tell her to either stop flirting with you, or date you."

"I tried that. She just laughed."

Bran, John and I were in Bran's Buick, driving from Syracuse to Rochester for a convention. Bran and I were speaking about the success of our village streetscape project. I was the design engineer and responsible for the overall project. Bran had designed the sidewalks, landscaping, and drainage. John headed another design team, and was along for the ride.

Vivian is our firm's lead real estate lawyer. John had to work with Vivian because extensive right-of-way purchases were needed for his project.

Whenever she and John are in the same room, she flirts with him to the very limits of professional office behavior and sometimes beyond. As soon as he responds, though, she becomes a frigid cockblocker. It doesn't help John that Vivian is a gorgeous redhead. Anyone could see why John hated it. Unlike most people, however, I can tell she has a serious case of the hots for him. I can smell her desire.

I also know why she can't act on it. You see, Vivian has a secret. She is a werewolf. I can smell that, too.

Hope can I tell? I also have a secret. I'm a were-cougar.

"Well at least her hair makes her easy to spot," I said. Don't worry. "Bran and I will run interference for you."

Just then, Bran's GPS beeped. John, in the passenger seat, looked at it and said, "The Thruway is closed ahead for some reason. Take the next exit. It looks like we're taking the back roads."

"Oh. crap" Bran said. "At least there will be a full moon tonight, so it'll be easier to see." I was already feeling the tingle of energy from the moon. Felines like me aren't as strongly tied to the moon as werewolves, but we still hear her call.

As we drove through the upstate New York countryside, we were treated to a gorgeous sunset in front of us, and a moonrise behind us. We crested a hill and were greeted by the sight of an old farmhouse and barn across the valley, glowing in the setting sun. As we dropped down into the shadow of the hill, I caught a flicker of motion off to the right. "Look out!" I yelled, just as a doe lept over the road. It was followed by a grey blur that crashed into the front of the car, cracked the windshield, and went over the roof.

Branwen slammed on the brakes hard and the ABS clattered like mad as the car slewed to a stop. We all got out. John went to check the damage to the car, and Bran looked for whatever we hit. As I stepped out, the scent hit me. Werewolves! "Get back in the car, NOW!" I yelled. She looked at me, then behind me, and screamed. Something slammed into the back of the head, and the world went red and black.

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The first thing that I noticed after my throbbing head when I came to was the scent of Branwen's fear. She has a strong phobia about dogs. She was attached by one as a kid, and is on the edge of panic whenever one is near. Any human would be scared when confronted by were-folk. To a cynophobe like Branwen, they must be terrifying.

The second thing was a basementy smell, and a cold, grimy stone floor below me. I opened my eyes and by the light of a bare bulb, I saw that we were in a caged in a stone-walled basement. Bran was curled up in a ball in the corner, sobbing and rocking back and forth. Outside the bars were two male and two female werewolves. They were half-changed - still bipedal, but with fur and tails and fangs and thick blunt claws on their fingers and toes. A female with reddish fur pointed at John, and growled, "Bring out the tall one. He's mine." She seemed familiar somehow, but I couldn't quite place it. They came into the cell, grabbed John, and dragged him out. As they did, I got a whiff of the female's scent. It was Vivian.

I pulled Bran close and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her head into the crook of my neck. She jumped as the cage door slammed.

John struggled in the grip of the two big males, nut soon gave up as futile. Vivian walked over to him, stopping only inches away from his body. He said, "My brother is a detective. An FBI agent. If you kill me, he'll find you!"

Vivian said, "Oh, I have no intention of killing you, but I can't let you go, either. If our secret gets out, we'll be persecuted and hunted. We can't let the Burning Times happen again. If you ever want to leave this basement, you have to become one of us. It's pack law." During the so-called Renaissance, any of our kind that got caught were convicted of being witches and burned at the stake.

"What are you going to do, bite me?"

She put a hand-paw on his cheek. "I could. I'd rather not." Her voice got low and sultry. "I'd rather do something a lot more ... fun.' She turned to the other female. "Emily, the other male is yours. The boss is going to want the woman, as usual."

It was too late for John. Heck, he was about to finally get the woman that tormented him so. I decided I'd protect Bran if I could. There was no way I could take on a whole pack, though. I can hold my own against any single werewolf, maybe even two or three of them. My feline agility and sharp claws gives me an edge. Four of them, with the rest of the pack upstairs was out of the question. We are ambush hunters, stalking jumping and pouncing. Wolves run down their prey until it drops from exhaustion. Even if I could get out of the basement, I could never outrun them. Fighting wasn't an option. I had to use my brains.

As Vivian marched John towards the stairs, Emily came into the cage to get me. I let go of Bran, jumped into the air, and kicked her in the chest with both feet. She slammed back into the bars. Before she could recover, I spun her around to face away from me, got her right arm into a half-nelson and wrapped my other hand around her throat, claws extended. Her eyed bulged. I yelled, "Vivian!"

Vivian turned around, pushed John to one of the males, and walked up to the cage. "How did you know?"

"You have a distinctive scent." I partially changed, showing her my cougar eyes and snout.

"Wha the ...??? Interesting... I've never heard of your kind before. Hmmm. Well, you obviously won't be joining our pack, but I don't think we need to worry. Let Emily go and come on upstairs and join us for dinner. We're having venison."

I shook my head. "Viv, about Branwen. She's no good to you. She's phobic. Can't you smell it? Do you really want a pack member that goes batshit crazy every full moon? Give her to me and I'll change her. She'll be better off as a cougar. Heck, she loves cats. She breeds Savannahs."

She sighed. "Well, the boss won't like it, but you're probably right. But if she's not changed by morning, neither of you are leaving this cage."

I let Emily go with an apology, and said to Vivian, "Do you have any place with bit more privacy, and less grime?"

Vivian nodded. "Put them in the safe room. Emily, for letting him get the drop on you, you'll guard the door instead of joining us for dinner."

I had to carry Bran. Emily lead us to a door on the other side of the basement. "You can go in here. It's still a cell, but at least it has a real floor and a bed."

She opened the door and motioned us in. The door was thick oak, riveted to iron bands. It closed behind us with a bang, and I heard heavy steel bolt slide home. The inside of the door was covered with gouges and claw marks. Some had bloodstains. The irony of the name safe room didn't escape me. This wasn't a refuge in a home invasion or tornado. They lock up werewolves that can't control their animal sides to keep the pack safe. I shuddered at the thought. If she joined the pack, Bran would probably spend all her full moon nights in here.

The bed was really just a mattress in the corner, but it was better than the dirt floor of the cell. I laid Branwen down on it, and curled up against her back.

The moon was shining through the barred window high on the other wall when Bran finally stirred. She sat up, looked around, and said in a panicky voice, "What happened? Where are we? Where's John? Are the dogs gone?"

I sat up and wrapped my arms around her, and said, "It's okay. Well, it's not okay, but it's better than it could have been." I took a breath. "Bran, we're being held prisoner by werewolves." She made a skeptical grunt. "Yes, they are real. Very, very real. They have John. He's probably one of them by now." I paused for a breath. "The bad news is, you're not walking out of this room as a human. The good news is I convinced them to give you a choice. You can either become one of them, or let me change you"

"And what are you?" She asked. She sounded skeptical.

"Were-cougar, Or catamount or puma if you prefer."

"You're telling me we're captives of mythical creatures, and you turn into a cougar on the full moon." Her voice sounded sarcastically unbelieving.

"Yes. Well, not necessarily on the full moon. Whenever I want to, really."

"So, you expect me to believe that if I let you bite me, I'll magically turn into a cougar? You know what they say about extraordinary claims."

"Well, first off, I'd rather not have to bite you. That's uncivilized. Sex works just as well, and it's more fun. And as for extraordinary proof..."

I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my socks and stood in the shaft of moonlight from the window. I faced her and unbuttoned my shirt, took it off and dropped it on the mattress. I could tell she liked what she saw. One perk of being a shape shifter is a heightened metabolism. I'm not muscle-bound by any means, but I am slim and toned. After unbuckling my belt and opening my fly, I hooked my thumbs over both waistbands of my pants and briefs and pushed them down to my ankles. I changed as I did. I pulled my hind paws out of my pants and padded over to where she was sitting. Her astonishment was plain. I head-butted her a few times, then touched my muzzle to her nose.

She reached up and tentatively touched the fur on my cheek. "Oh. My. God," she said. "You're real! You're effin' real! She started scratching behind my ears. I couldn't help myself. I started purring. Purring is the best compensations of being one of the lesser cats. Lions, tigers, jaguars and leopards can't purr.

Bran laughed out loud with delight. "So. I'll be able to change and purr and all this, too?" She asked. I had the wrong mouth shape to talk now, so I nodded yes. "And I'll finally get you between my legs!" When Branwen first started working with us, she used to flirt with me. I managed to ignore it, although it was hard at times. I nodded again.

She stood up, said "It's my turn." She pulled the barrettes from her hair so it spilled down her back. She unzipped the back of her dress and slowly let it drop to the ground. Her bra soon followed, and she stood in front of me wearing just panties, thigh-highs, and kitten heeled boots.

Intellectually, I could see she was really quite attractive, if a little on the round side. Physically, though, the sight of a naked human just didn't do it for my cat brain. She reached around my rump and caressed my sheath. "No? Huh. Oh, I think I know how to get him to come out and play." She pulled her panties down and kicked them off. The scent of her nethers tickled my nose.

I dropped my jaw a little and pulled up my upper lip, so her scent could reach the special scent receptors in the roof of my mouth. Yes, she was damp. Doing it with a cougar was a turn on for her? If that was her kink, I was the luckiest guy in the world.

She cupped her pussy with one hand, then pushed two fingers inside herself. Then she reached out and rubbed her wetness on my muzzle. The smell was intoxicating. I was almost instantly fully engorged. I kept my cock mostly human, for two reasons. To be honest, we felines just aren't well hung. Even lions are lacking in the package. Second, I really liked her and didn't want to hurt her. We have barbed, spiky penises that would probably leave her a bloody mess down there.

I pushed my snout between her legs and licked her folds gently, since my rough tongue might be too abrasive. Instead, I purred. Yeah that worked. Her dampness soon became wetness. It wasn't long before she was moaning softly.

She moved away from me and stepped over to the mattress. She knelt with her back to me, then dropped to all fours. With a come-hither look over her shoulder, she spread her knees apart, fully exposing that wet, wonderfully-scented pussy. With a pounce I covered her. I gently nipped her neck between my fangs, and dropped my hips to take her.

Aaaand, I missed.

Pussy pussies are farther back than a woman's, just below the bung. It was kind of embarrassing. I was glad my face was covered in fur. Before I could try again, she reached back and grasped me. After a few strokes with her hand, she pulled me down and forward and guided me inside her. Fuck! I thought. She actually wants this?

I started pumping into her. I had actually never had sex with a human woman since I was changed, so I was a bit worried that I'd do it wrong. I wanted it to feel good for her. I must have been doing something right, she was soon moaning again. Or maybe it was her hypothetical cat fetish.

She moved with me, pushing back into my thrusts to take me fully inside herself, moaning with each one. The loudness and pitch increased until she yelped and I felt her contracting around me. That took me over the edge. Along with my load, I felt a burst of my were-energy, the energy that enables us to change, surge out of me into her.

That's what actually would turn her, not the exchange of bodily fluids from sex or a bite. It triggered another, stronger orgasm in her. She collapsed onto the bed, and I fell on top of her.

After a minute. I started the change back to human. She felt my body shifting against her, and rolled over. "Don't change," She said. "I like you like this."

I half-changed. I was still furred and clawed and snouted, but I could speak and wrap my arms around her. "Will this do? This way we can talk and cuddle." I pulled her close, nuzzled her ear and purred.

"Mmm. I'm going to have ask you to stop that. Sometime around 3 in the afternoon, I think."

"Our presentation is at 2," I replied.

"Fuck the presentation!" She said.

"I'd rather fuck you again. Besides, how do you have sex with a Powerpoint file?"

Just then, there was a knock on the door. The bolt slid back, and Emily stuck her head in. I put an arm across Bran's breasts, and draped my tail over her privates. Emily chuckled. "You're such a gentleman. Anyway, now that that's done, you can come upstairs and sleep in the guest room if you want. It has a real bed, and windows, and all that." She looked at me and said, "Could you stay like that, so the pack can see you and smell you and know you really are a cougar."

We gathered our things. Bran threw her dress over her head. I hooked a thumb claw into the hole in the end of the zipper pull, and pulled it up for her.

The stairs were steep enough that Emily's butt was even with my eyes. A trail of wolfy lust musk wafted behind her. I doubted Bran could smell it, but I'd have to tell her about the different meaning of privacy among shapeshifters. With our better hearing and smell, everyone knows who's doing who. We really can't hide it. Emily must have heard everything we did, and maybe even smelled it. I wondered what Bran would say when she found out I would lighten her workload when she was PMSing.

The first floor was littered with puppy piles of wolves. Some were just cuddling. Others smelled of sex. Gold eyes followed us, well mostly me, to the front stairs. Emily lead us up the stairs to a back bedroom. Moonlight flooded through the lace curtains. Our bags were by the dresser.