Penny's Predicament Ch. 01-03

Without a word, her captor turned ally turned heaven-knew-what moved behind her, starting to unlace the black leather corset she wore atop her blouse. It dropped to the floor, and the captain moved to the fastening on her skirt, then her knee-high boots. Flushing with shame as she was slowly, methodically stripped of her garments, Penny started to squirm, but when she lashed out with a foot, it was caught in one strong hand.

"That way, is it?" the man murmured, not letting go of her ankle. As her black-furred tail began to lash, the fur puffing out, she felt another shackle close, this time around her ankle, and found it secured to a ring in the floor. Struggle though she might, the other ankle was similarly caught and secured, leaving her bound in place with legs spread and arms trapped over her head.

"Mmm. I was going to let you enjoy a nice, long bath, but if you're going to be like this... well, I'll have to clean you up myself."

Eyeing the white linen blouse, black, knee-length petticoats and stockings she still wore, the captain shrugged, then produced a knife from his belt. Grinning just slightly, the tip of the blade was placed just between Penny's breasts.

Her eyes went wide and her body stilled as she stared up, meeting his dark gaze, where just a hint of fire had begun to build. Slowly, patiently, the knife moved down, slicing open the blouse but only just grazing her skin. He continued, slicing her petticoat down the middle so that it fell away. Quick flicks ripped open her sleeves, and the blouse fluttered to the floor as well.

For long moments, Jameson stood still, gaze seemingly riveted by the vision of the young woman with the ears and tail of a cat, standing there before him in nothing but stockings, a thick leather collar and shackles.

To her surprise, he slid the knife away, and knelt before her, hands brushing up her thighs to slowly, almost tenderly roll each stocking down her legs, pulling it under the ankle cuffs and finally off.

Penny's eyes had closed, somewhat against her will, during this treatment, and so when the pitcher full of warm water was unceremoniously dumped over her head, she was taken quite by surprise. Before she could protest, though, she felt his strong hands yanking free the tie on her braid and quickly unweaving it, only to then dump a second pitcher over her.

All she could do was splutter, however, before he moved to stand behind her, beginning to soap her long chestnut tresses.

Despite herself, a purr began to rumble from deep within, and it must have startled Jameson, too, for his hands briefly stilled, only to go back to their work, kneading her scalp, then rubbing the soap thoroughly through her hair. Just as Penny opened her eyes and turned to look questioningly at the man, though, a third pitcher of water was dumped, sending stinging soap suds into her eyes. She squeaked, then hissed, but all it earned her was a chuckle. Then, began the rest of the bathing. He seemed almost detached as he ran the soapy cloth over her arms, her face, back, and belly, though she couldn't help but notice that he avoided her breasts.

Finally, though, after resoaping the cloth, he moved around to stand in front of her, staring down for a long moment. The cloth was lifted to her collarbone, just over one ripe breast, and squeezed, sending warm, sudsy water trickling down the lobe, nipples catching droplets of water in their already hardened state.

Once again, Penny found herself betrayed by her own body's reactions, arching her back as her head tipped backwards. Now, the cloth moved, brushing lightly over first one breast, then the other, making Penny's breath catch in her throat. When it ran over a nipple, the whimper that escaped her was apparently heard,for the man before her went suddenly rigid, a soft growl of his own filling the small room. Then, the cloth was trailing down, down over her stomach, down between her legs.

With a gasp, her eyes shot open, head shaking. "No," she whispered, trembling, only to be greeted by a finger to the lips. "You must be clean everywhere, kitten. But I promise you this... if you keep silent and don't move, I'll be quick and detached about it." He leaned in, then, lips right next to her ear. "One whimper, though, one moan or squirm... and I won't be able to keep a check on my urges. Be warned."

Biting her lip, Penny was in no position to stop him. The cloth ran lightly over the mound of her femininity, leaving suds through the trimmed thatch of hair there, rubbing in light but quick circles. Then down each side, over delicate skin where her thighs joined to her body. Jameson was holding to his word, doing the job as fast as he could while still being thorough, but when the warm washcloth dipped between her folds and grazed her clit, a whimper, faint but audible, escaped.

A low chuckle came, then, wicked with desire, and Jameson was suddenly behind her, one hand in her wet hair, the other now rubbing slowly between her legs with the cloth, teasing that tiny pearl.

"Squirm for me, kitten," he whispered. "I want to feel you moving, hear what sounds you make... but don't worry. This will only go so far. Still, I think it's not such a bad idea to show you the pleasures of being mine." the cloth was dropped, then, his fingers alone doing the work, playing over her flesh.

After last night's escapade, Penny's fear of the man had been greatly reduced, and she knew that try as she might, she did feel a growing attraction to him, quite apart from the sensations his fingers were causing, touching where no man had ever touched before, not even the scientist that had combined ancient occult practices with the latest scientific research to give her feline ears and tail.

Gasping, her body began to move, hips squirming against the hard body pressing up against her... one that was growing increasingly harder at one important spot. His fingers pinched and rolled her clit, the other hand growing tighter in her hair, pulling her head back and to the side.

Just as two fingers pushed up into her, his mouth descended upon hers, the kiss fierce, hungry, and altogether demanding. She felt his hand twist, the two fingers sinking in until they reached the barrier of her virginity, then retracting, only to push in again, and the presence of her maidenhood only made him kiss her all the harder, his body tight and rigid. His thumb found her clit again, teasing, tormenting as his fingers pumped into her, curled slightly. The thrusts remained shallow, but they were persistent.

Helpless with arms and legs bound, head turned, all Penny could do was let this man do what he wished to her body, and in the growing haze of pleasure, she realized that it was what she wanted, too. Something else was building, as well, her stomach fluttering in ways it never had before, toes curling. She wanted something, wanted it more than she wanted air, but until her world suddenly seemed to explode, she didn't know what. She screamed into the kiss, then, back arching as every muscle in her body first went tense, then began to shiver, sending rippling shudders through her frame.

Finally, it was over, and she sagged back against the strong body of Captain Jameson. His hand left her sex, arm circling her waist as the other released her hair, only to stroke through it.

"Good girl," he whispered. "God... so beautiful. And mine... I don't think I'm going to be letting you go, Penny."

Only when she was able to stand did he retrieve the cloth, and tenderly finish bathing her sated body. He released her carefully, wrapping her in a towel, then scooping her up along with the bundle, bearing her back to the cabin.

There, he dressed her in new things. "I got these at the market... we're docked at New Tortuga. I want the crew to know what you are... it will save trouble." A pause, then he added softly, "I also have men out asking after my sister and the other girls you were trying to find."

The outfit was skimpy, skimpier in fact that her original, though otherwise similar in appearance. She still looked very much like a pirate, only more like the fantasy certain sorts of men might hold of a female airship pirate. Her chestnut hair was brushed out and left free, black satin bows tied to the base of each feline ear. Then he retrieved a key and unlocked the rather ugly slave collar, only to replace it by something a little more fanciful. Made of black and pink leather and decorated with delicate silver chains and tiny bells, this was the source of the jingling that had first awakened her. A small padlock was slipped through the buckle at the back and a soft snap marked its closure.

Finally, he stood back, looking her up and down. "Perfect... come, look." Taking her hand, he led her to the tall mirror, and Penny could only stare. Since her transformation, she hadn't thought of herself as pretty, with the freakish feline ears, the tail, the retractable claws. But staring back at her in the mirror was a creature of soft curves, inner fire, and sensual appeal, garbed as the personal pet of the rogue that stood behind her.

Penny knew that she'd probably feel differently about this later, but just for that moment, her predicament suddenly didn't seem so bad.

To be continued...