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 an engineering convention. John, a tall, dark haired fellow, was in the passenger seat. I was in the back, behind Bran.

We were going to represent our employer, Leightner and Moody Engineering, at the convention. Bran and I were going to give a presentation 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 going to talk to prospective clients.

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

Vivian has a history of flirting with John to the very limits of professional office behavior, and sometimes beyond. As soon as he responds, though, she gets frigid. 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 tell by how her scent changes around him.

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.

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

I can sympathize with Vivian to some extent. Bran used to flirt with me when she first joined the company. I didn't want to, but I finally had to tell her to stop. I'm pretty sure she was still crushing on me a little, though.

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

Just then, the car'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 west 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 light of 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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I came to with the throbbing head and nausea of a concussion. I called on my cougar nature to accelerate the healing, and looked up to assess my surroundings. The first thing 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'd be paralyzing.

The second thing was a basementy smell, and a cold, grimy stone floor below me. The light of a bare bulb showed 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 had John pinned to the floor outside the cage. She seemed familiar somehow, but I couldn't quite place it.

She dug her claws into the front of John's chinos and ripped them open along with his boxers. She lowered her head and applied her long supple tongue to his crotch.

It was too late for me to help John. I pulled Bran close and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her head into the crook of my neck.

Having gotten the results she wanted, the red wolf straddled John's hips and lowered herself onto John as he watched in horror. She turned to the other female. "Emily, the other male is yours. The boss is going to want the woman, as usual." Just then, the basement door opened, changing the airflow in the basement. I got a whiff of the female's scent. I should have known.

It was too late for John. How could I best protect Bran?. There was no way I could take on a whole pack, I can hold my own against any single werewolf, maybe even two or three of them. My feline agility and sharp claws give me an edge. Four of them, with the rest of the pack upstairs, was out of the question. Cats are ambush hunters, stalking, jumping and pouncing. Wolves will run down their prey for miles until it drops from exhaustion. I could never outrun them. Fighting wasn't an option. I had to outthink them.

Emily came into the cage to get me. I gently 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's head swiveled to face me. She stood up off of John, and walked up to the cage. "How did you know?"

"You have a distinctive scent." I half-changed, showing her my cougar eyes and snout Light brown for convert my skin.

"Wha the ...??? Interesting... Well, you obviously won't be joining our pack, but I don't think we need to worry. Let Emily go 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."

A male growled, "She knows. She must join..." He fell silent at Vivian's gesture.

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 tonight's howl."

I picked up Bran and followed Emily 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 bolts 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 deranged, out-of-control wolves to keep the rest of the pack safe. I shuddered at the thought. If she joined the pack, Bran would probably spend all her full moons in here.

The bed was really just a mattress in the corner, but it was better than the dirt floor of the cell. I set Branwen down on it, and sat next to her and pulled her onto my lap. She was still shaking in the grips of he panic attack, muttering "Dogs will kill me!" over and over. I couldn't do anything with her like this. I'd sworn an oath to myself to never so what had been done to me and change anyone without consent.

The moon was shining through the barred window high on the other wall when I realized what to do. I started purring softly. It seemed to help, so I increased the volume.

The moonlight moved from the wall across from the window to the middle of the floor before 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?" And then, "Did you hear a cat?"

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 different mythical creature on the full moon." Her tone was sarcastic and 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 took her hand and pulled it out into the pool of moonlight. I let go, and placed my hand in her palm. A moment's concentration, and my fingernails lengthened into sharp, hooked claws. Tough but supple pads formed under my knuckles and the middle joint of my fingers. Tawny fur covered the rest up past my wrist. With a quick indrawn breath, she caressed my fur, prodded my pads, and gently ran fingertips over the points of my class.

"Is this real?"

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, changing as I did. I pulled my hind paws out of my pants and padded over to where she was sitting. Her astonishment written on her face. 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 compensation of being one of the lesser cats. Lions, tigers, jaguars and leopards get most of the press, but they can't purr. We can't roar, but a snarl is almost as good, and purring is more fun.

Bran laughed out loud with delight. "That was you I heard," she exclaimed. I had the wrong mouth shape to talk now, so I nodded yes. "So, if I fuck you, So. I'll be able to change and purr and all this, too?" I nodded yes again.

"I don't know which part is better! Becoming a cat or finally getting you between my legs!" I gave her another head-butt.

She stood up, said "It's my turn." She pulled the barrettes from her hair, letting it spill 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 so she couldn't see me blush. 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 nude 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.