The Cougar

To almost everyone in the small town, she seemed out of place. Just the sight of her and the mention of her name carried an aura of hesitation and caution. Yet very few could put their finger on exactly what it was about her that felt so unusual.

She could blend in well enough with her long golden hair, her kind face, and her charming country voice. On the other hand, her height and large breasts made her stand out somewhat, catching the gaze of both men and women. To balance things a bit, she always dressed in modest but flattering attire, leaving just the right amount of curiosity and imagination to make most folks wonder about her actual intentions. The fact that she lived alone in a good-sized ranch home on the outskirts of town helped. Perhaps she was simply lonely and trying to fit in.

When he first caught sight of her, the mystique had already reached his mind. She was to be pitied - the 33 year old single woman seeking attention. Even so, as he watched her that day, buying groceries and shopping with the rest of civilization, she did not seem sad, bitter, or cold. She was confident, light-hearted, and warm. Was she hiding something, or had she been misjudged by everyone?

For his eighteenth birthday, he and his friends had gone out drinking away from town. After some time playfully celebrating at the lake, a fight ensued between him and one of his friends, culminating in a chase that led them through the fields late at night. Punches were thrown, scuffles were had, and then keys were stolen and launched into the air, causing the distinct sound of shattering glass in the distance. Already sobering up, the noise brought him back to a heightened attention. He muttered a few obscenities under his breath.

He snuck up towards the house as his friends waited at a distance. Somewhat dated, but big and cozy, the house stretched out before him like it was daring him to make it in and out without being noticed. He swallowed nervously as he saw lights on and movement behind some of the curtains. Fortunately, the broken window was on the bottom floor.

Quietly, he made his way through an open window at the front of the house, then into the room where the glass lay strewn across the floor. In disbelief, he looked to see no keys in sight. Someone had heard the crash and taken them, he thought. As he turned around and headed for the window again, he saw her standing in the doorway. Dangling from her fingers were the car keys. He froze in his footsteps.

"Ma'am, I am so sorry," he pleaded with her. "But please don't tell my parents!"

She stood still a moment, then looked slowly at the window and back at him.

"I-- I'll clean up the pieces," he said. "Please."

"And what about my window?" she asked demandingly.

"I can find a way to pay you back."

She thought for a minute, then motioned to the next room. "The broom's in the kitchen closet."

Without hesitation, he retrieved it and swept up the glass shards. Silently, she watched his every move, like a lionness circling its prey.

"C-can I go now, ma'am?" he asked her anxiously.

"Will you do one more thing for me?"

"But it's my birthday..."

"Just one more thing and then you can go."

"Yes, anything." He felt his throat closing, and she heard it.

In no hurry at all, she walked over to the couch, sat down gracefully and fixated her eyes on him. His cheeks began to turn pink, and she saw it. "Come here and kneel down."

His heart pounding in his chest, he walked to where she sat and knelt next to her. She looked deep into his eyes.

"Pull down your pants and bend over my lap."

A stuttered, embarrassed breath came from him. His hands shaking, he unzipped his pants, pulled them down with his underwear and laid across her lap. Her eyes flashed with a glimmer of surprise and excitement.

"You pulled down your underwear, too. What a good boy."

The sound of her words was like music to his ears. Though his pulse quickened, his body relaxed, his nerves calmed, and he inadvertently let out a pleasant sigh as he felt her hand gently glide over his bare bottom.

"You're 18 today, aren't you, little boy?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered, wondering how she knew his age.

"Then let's have you count down for me."

Her left hand pressed down lightly on his back, she raised her right hand and brought it down hard for a firm smack on his ass. He grunted a humiliated and astonished moan. He couldn't believe she was doing this, and he couldn't believe how much he liked it. "One," he counted.

Eighteen spankings later and his butt was red as an apple. She hadn't been gentle. With a grin, she admired her work, tenderly massaging his naked behind. He didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay on her lap until there was nothing left for her to smack. Finally, she pulled up his underwear and his pants, and sent him on his way.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said as he headed to the door.

She didn't say a word as she saw him out. Their eyes locked and he knew. His bottom stung as he rejoined his friends and went about the rest of his night.

-

One morning she answered the door to find him standing there, ever so slightly twichting. His face was older and hairy, his body now toned and strong, and all he had with him were the clothes on his back, and a duffle bag of belongings. She knew why he was there. She let him twitch nervously for another couple moments as she looked him over. It had been three long years.

"Hello, boy," she said at last.

He smiled, rejoicing inside that she remembered him, and then promptly dropped to his knees on her doorstep. "I've tried," he managed to speak. "I've tried. I went off to university. I went to work in factories and stores. I joined a church group. I tried to be normal, to have a normal life and normal relationships. I tried to get you out of my head. I tried to tell myself I was just young and foolish. I tried to tell myself you were bad for me."

She watched him carefully, waiting for the rest to come out.

"The truth is," he admitted, "I'm bad for myself. I've done what I thought I needed, and failed. I tried to be something I'm not. I've got nothing left but this. You brought one of my dreams to life, and you've been in all my dreams ever since. I know next to nothing about you, or about what you want, except for that one night. You seemed to know me. Please - Ma'am - will you take me? Let me learn to serve you?"

After a brief silence, she leaned in to look him in the eyes and spoke. "You don't have any idea what I want. You have no idea if it will scare you, make you hateful, or depress you. I will put your ass to work. I will dominate you in ways you'll find embarrassing and emasculating. You won't have anything normal here to worry about. You will be just as much my property as this house is my property. And you want that privilege, boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he responded without delay. "Nothing would make me happier. Nothing has made me happier than that short time when I was yours."

She felt a fire well up inside her. It wasn't compassion. It wasn't pity. It wasn't love. She had her prey cornered, practically in her jaws now. She felt elation at the thought of stripping him down to his bare soul and devouring him with her power. She would break him, remake him, and have herself a new house slave.

"Then listen well," she instructed him. "The yard around the house needs weeding and the plants need watering. The gutters also need to be cleaned and the shed needs a new coat of paint. So you will hand your bag and your clothing over to me. All of it. Then you will get to work in your birthday suit. I will be sitting out on the patio on the side of the house, reading and occasionally watching. When you're done, you will come to me. You will address me as your Lady or Lady Heather. You are not to set foot inside the house until you've done so."

Immediately, he stood up, removed his shoes and his clothing, and handed her all of it with the duffle bag. "Be grateful it's breezy and overcast today," she said with a smile, as she took his things from him. Then he was off, doing as he'd been told. She stood in the doorway watching for a minute. He looked rugged and handsome walking across the lawn naked, his bare ass bouncing as he moved. She grit her teeth gently. Later, she decided, he would be cleaned, shaved everywhere but his eyebrows, and he'd begin his transition into being her ball-less little bitch boy.

Once his things were put away, she took a book and went to her lawn chair on the patio. There he was, silently and obediently pulling up weeds. When she finished a couple chapters, he had moved on to watering the plants. Another couple chapters and the gutters were being cleaned. As he got around to painting the shed, she took him a glass of water and stood by watching him as he worked. The predator in her wanted to attack him, press him up against the shed and tear into his bare flesh as the paint made him even more of a mess. Gathering herself together, she walked back to the patio and continued reading.

Eventually he came to where she was sitting and announced that he had finished. Commanding him to follow, she walked calmly around the house, checking his work. He almost hoped that others were watching as she led him about. Finally, she turned back to him and spoke. "Good boy. Come inside and go hop in the shower upstairs."

Quiet as a mouse, he marched upstairs and showered, making doubly sure he had cleaned every inch of himself for her. Meanwhile, she began setting up downstairs: towels, razors, waxing strips, and more. She turned the lights down low for a moody atmosphere and turned the air to a cool temperature that she knew would make him very aware of his vulnerable state. When she was ready, she called out to him in a sweet and playful tone of voice: "Bitch, bring your naked behind down here when you're dried off."

Moments later and he was smooth as a baby's bottom from head to toe. He felt even more exposed, with the breezy air licking his skin to remind him from time to time. Then she presented the pink lace panties he was to wear, and he realized that he'd only just begun to understand what being exposed to her would actually mean. He blushed, and promptly slid them on.

"Clean the windows," Lady Heather ordered, "and vaccuum the carpets down here, and when you've done that, you're going to get on your hands and knees and scrub the tile floor in the kitchen. I will be upstairs waiting when you're finished."

He set to work. Periodically, she came down to monitor his progress, particularly to see him scrub the floors with his ass sticking up, freshly cleaned and shaven, wearing her pink panties. It was dark by the time he finished, and he wearily went up to find her in the bedroom. She wore a pair of panties and a thin white shirt accentuating her ample breasts.

Knowing she had worn down any resistance he might have left, she ordered him to lose the panties and bend over the bed. He watched her walk over with something he knew was going to restrain him and humiliate him. Yet he found himself without energy, emptied of anxiety. He moaned as she pushed the first part of the device into his asshole, and he sighed as she slid the second part over his tired cock and clamped it into place.

"This is it," he thought silently to himself. "There's no turning back now. She owns you. And she's going to use you like she pleases." She cuffed his hands behind his back.

A shiny key dangled in front of his face. He became excited, but had nowhere to go. She pushed the plug on his new belt a little deeper into his anus and he let out a somewhat discomforted, quiet grunt.

"When you were on my lap that night," she teasingly whispered in his ear, "did you ever think you might one day have your cock locked away and your ass stretched and trained for what will certainly be a lot of penetration to come?"

He inhaled with a nervous thrill before answering. "No, Lady Heather. All I could think then was how I wanted to be yours. How I wanted to lay on your lap forever. I wished I'd stumbled up to your house a long time ago, that you'd have raised me to be your cub."

She stood motionless for a moment. Reaching out her hand slowly, she stroked the back of his head and looked him over. Her heart fluttered at his words; she knew she had won her prey. Now it was time to feast.

"You're my cub now, boy," she growled at him, yanking him back by his hair. "And you've been caught by a real predator."

As her teeth sank into his exposed neck, his eyes widened and he let out a startled gasp. Lady Heather sat down before him on the bed, eagerly soaking up the deer-in-the-headlights look across his face. She grabbed his head in both arms and licked up the side of his neck all the way to his forehead. He could hear her panting softly, her lips against his ear. The panting turned into chuckling while her hand fondled the locked cock between his legs.

"You know you're entirely at my mercy," she moaned in a deep voice. "You came to my door like a wounded little gazelle, and I let you think it was safe here."

Silently, she scanned his face with her eyes. He was frightened, yet mesmerized by her. To him, she looked like a hungry animal, ready to knock him down and tear him limb from limb. With his heart pounding inside his chest, he managed to speak and surprise her. "Who isn't safe when they're owned by a lioness?"

The fire welled up inside her again. She grabbed him by the hair, pushed him back, and locked a collar around his neck. Bending over to look him in the eye, she hooked the leash onto the collar ring. "You're safe because your lioness has you neutered, little bitch. I've taken your manhood and locked it up. I'm going to fuck your asshole more than most pussies get fucked in their entire lives. And I'm going to make damn sure that you always feel and know you are my cub. If you even start to think of yourself as a man, if you forget that your balls belong to me, I will put you down in a heartbeat and leave the vultures hungry."

Now he felt frozen still. With a yank of the leash, he came stumbling towards her on his knees. Slowly and sensually, she pulled off her shirt. His cock pressed against the confines of its cage. She brought his head to her bare chest and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Your little dick is going to be kept restrained a lot," Lady Heather told him. "You're going to learn to worship and please me for its own sake before I allow you any fun. Let's see you suckle my tits like a good cub. While you do so, think about how small you are."

He pressed his lips to her nipples and passionately kissed them. He licked with his tongue. He closed his mouth around them and pleased her.

"Think about how lost you'd be without me. Think about how you belong to me. How I am your life now. How you're obediently on your knees."

Her moans and sighs became more frequent, interrupting her instruction. "Think of how-- you long to please-- me. Think-- about-- how you-- love your-- place!"

"My place is at your feet, my Lady!" he exclaimed and fell on her lap.

Breathing deeply, she took his leash and led him to bed. Putting her shirt on again, she laid down, holding him in her arms, occasionally and gently running her hands over his chastity cage and the butt plug he wore to sleep. His ass was deliciously round and smooth for her. His body was worked and rugged, lying naked in her bed. She felt victorious, triumphant.

"You aren't going anywhere now, my little cub," she whispered softly. "Mama's got you in her claws."