The Right Male

Story by danath on SoFurry

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#57 of Archived Livestream Stories Pre-2018

An unsuspecting wolf is the perfect boytoy for a black cat sorceress in need of a little rejuvenation therapy...

Written on a livestream on 10/5/2014 for Friskecrisps.


The Right Male

By Danath

Characters (C) avatar?user=311202&character=0&clevel=2 FriskeCrisps

* * *

No, no, no... not him, or him.

Definitely not him.

Bleh.

Miranda scowled. The black cat sat on a bench in a busy shopping mall, scanning the crowd. A sporty, short skirt hung around her thighs. A matching halter top hung from her shoulders. The outfit was fashionable and trendy, but looked a little strange on a woman of Miranda's years. The feline was buxom, yes, but graying at the temples. She looked too dignified to really pull off the look.

Not him. Not him. Him... maybe. Well, no. Not him.

The feline scowled again. She had one chance to really get it right this year and get her looks back, but she had to find the right male first. Time was running out, and the planets would literally not align any better than this coming Halloween. Her tail tip twitched and she bit her lower lip. She wasn't really being picky, but she needed someone with the right... attitude.

Couldn't be that one. Not him. Or him. Or... him?

Miranda's lips pulled into a tight smile. She closed her eyes, as though listening intently to something only she could hear.

* * *

Crisp transferred the shopping bag from his left hand to his right. The wolf was tall and lean, with an athletic physique he didn't appear to mind showing off, judging from the way his white zip-up jacket hung open in the front. The red hood attached to it was down. His white shorts had similar red trim around the waist and leg holes. In the back, his tail hung over the waist of the shorts. White fur ran down his throat, chest, and belly, while darker gray and black fur coated his sides, back, and head. His hair was styled in a forward, tussled manner.

The bag he held contained two shoe boxes. The wolf moved the bag to his other hand again and took a slightly awkward step, trying to get the erection in his shorts to a less visible posture. Buying shoes always did this to Crisp. His little guilty pleasure.

He noticed the feline staring at him and flinched, thinking she'd noticed his erection. He glanced away as he held the bag in front of him. When he looked back, the bench on which she'd sat was empty. Crisp glanced around before quickening his step, eager to avoid any further unwanted attention.

What the black and white wolf didn't know was that he was the center of Miranda's attention. The feline had used a simple spell to make herself invisible to Crisp's view, then followed him out of the mall. She picked his pocket on the way and slid smoothly away, leaving Crisp none the wiser that his wallet was gone.

Miranda went back to her house, a large, early-century manor. She didn't need a car to get around - she simply stepped into a secluded corner and moved herself there with a bit of magic. Easier than maintaining a driver's license. The house was well-kept on the outside, though high exterior walls and large trees mostly hid the view of the place from the road. The interior was decorated with large framed paintings, pedestals holding artifacts, and other treasures Miranda acquired over a lifetime. The only thing she was concerned with at the moment, however, was the wallet she'd pilfered from her target.

Crisp, as she learned was his name, was of a good age. The wallet had few clues as to the rest of him, besides his membership card at a local gym, a half-filled coffee reward card, and the various credit and bank cards stuffed into the pockets. Still, there was enough for her to work with.

A large living room with a fireplace occupied much of the front of the house. Miranda snapped her fingers and set the fire roaring before placing Crisp's wallet on a small round table in the center of the room. It sat on top of a large circular carpet with swirling red and purple floral patterns. A few pieces of furniture hung around the outside edges of the room - a few chairs, bookshelves, and tables.

Miranda waved her stiff fingers over the table. A few powders sprinkled here and there, along with some slight chalk writing, and the initial preparations were complete. Now all that was left was to summon her target...

There were no cracks of lightning or flashing lights. No shimmering fire or otherworldly portals. Crisp simply appeared on the carpet with a very confused look on his face. The black feline purred and snapped her fingers. Crisp glanced towards her, eyes wide. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. He looked panicked.

Miranda smiled and walked towards him. Her dress swayed around her hips as she slid a finger down his chest, catching the zipper of his hoodie with her claw and tugging it open.

"Don't worry, my little pet," the feline purred. "I'm not going to hurt you... much."

Crisp's eyes went even wider when her paw slipped around his crotch, squeezing at the bulge beneath his shorts.

"Mmmhh hmmm! Hmmmm!"

"Shush, now... or you'll be punished." Crisp's ears folded back at the very interesting way she said that last word. There wasn't so much a threat as a promise behind the feline's tone of voice.

Her examination continued: palms spread across his bare chest, slipping up his shoulders to pull his jacket off. She stood behind him, pressing into his backside, as her fingers undid the button on his shorts. A moment later, her fingers slipped into his underwear as her muzzle pressed against the side of his neck. She inhaled his scent deeply and rumbled lustfully as her paw squeezed around his plump sheath.

Oh, she'd chosen well, she knew. Already she could taste his arousal. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly.

Not yet.

Crisp's shorts fell around his ankles, followed by his underwear. The hapless wolf stood stock still, muzzle unable to open, while confusion, panic, and arousal fought in his head. He knew he should run - find the door, escape outside, figure out how he got here and who this crazy feline was later, with the police at his side.

But he didn't run. His body couldn't take a step away. Instead, his hips pushed into the feline's smooth pads and the tip of his erection pressed upwards.

"I'm Miranda, but you'll call me Mistress," the feline said, her voice nearly a whisper in Crisp's ear. Her fingers danced across his chest and belly as she leaned into his back. "You'll speak only when spoken to and follow my commands, or else, as I said before... you will be punished."

Crisp closed his eyes as she let that last word linger in the air again, full of possibilities. Her teeth caught the tip of his ear for a moment, making him wince, but there was no denying she'd caught his attention. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn't move away... and as the moments passed and her paws teased at his pelt and stroked his budding arousal, he was less and less sure he wanted to.

"Now... let's get you dressed in something more appropriate."

Crisp felt his body sag, as though released from some invisible force field. He looked down at himself in shock. New clothes hugged his body, outlining his hips and rump particularly. Lacy white fabric, a black ruffled skirt, and a petite white apron... he was dressed, somehow, against his will, as a French maid. He even held a feather duster in his paw.

"And as for me..."

Crisp turned around to face Miranda. The arousal tenting his silk panties stiffened further when he realized what she was wearing and what it meant for him. The feline's chest was cupped by a leather girdle, leaving her plump breasts pushed up, nipples just barely covered. Her smooth belly was exposed. A garter and stockings clung to her shapely legs, leaving her modesty intact. For an older woman, she still had it going on, Crisp thought.

"Such a pretty little thing you are," Miranda said, her voice low and husky. Crisp blushed as she stroked her fingers over his muzzle and under his chin. "You'll be fun to train..."

The words came welling up out of Crisp's throat without him even realizing it.

"Yes, mistress."

Had she made him say that? Or had he said it on his own? The wolf wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about anything at this point.

Miranda simply smirked and extended one bare foot forward. She snapped her fingers again.

"I don't have all day, pet," she said.

Crisp looked down at her foot. What did she want him to do? He blushed again when he saw the feminine panties stretching to contain his maleness. He moved his hands to adjust himself, but realized he was holding something in each paw. How had those gotten there? When had he picked up a pair of black high heels?

"Now, pet." There was a note of warning in the feline's voice.

Crisp looked up at her face, eyes wide, then dropped to his knees and bent over. She lifted her foot as he slid the shoe on and fit it snugly against her heel. She purred and lifted the other foot, but pressed the top of it into his chest first, rubbing her toes over his fur. He caught her ankle in his paw and slipped on the shoe, almost panting.

She had to know. She had to know. She had to know. His blush deepened as he fitted her shoe, taking an extra moment to caress the feline's ankles. His erection began to ache.

Miranda's smirk grew. Her foot pressed into Crisp's chest, pushing him over backwards onto the floor. The high heel dragged softly across his frilly maid's uniform, over his belly, and down to his full panties. He moaned as she pressed the sole against his shaft, pinning it to his lower body.

"So hard already... but we have such a long way to go!"

Miranda sounded amused, but Crisp only groaned. He opened his eyes, staring up at the leather-clad feline. Any thought of leaving had long since left the wolf's distracted mind. There was only Miranda for now.

"The maid costume," Miranda said with a sigh. "Such a classic, if a bit of a cliche. I don't think you mind though, pet, do you?"

Her high heel pressed against his erection once more. The wolf whined in response.

"I didn't think so."

Crisp watched as she lifted her foot and walked away, enjoying the sight of her lean calves and rump from the back.

"Still, perhaps I should try something new..."

Miranda lifted her paw and snapped her fingers without bothering to turn around. Crisp was realizing that every time she did, something - for better or worse - happened.

This time, his clothes changed again. Tight pink cotton panties hugged his shaft. A blue and pink skirt came down only a few inches from his waist, leaving his arousal clear to see. The wolf's midriff was exposed, as all he had on his upper body was a tight pink sports bra trimmed in blue. The feather duster in his paw was replaced by a couple large pom-poms.

"Such a pretty thing!" Miranda said again. A mirror floated towards Crisp, who stared at his reflection in awe. Long eyelashes, make-up, and even... he sniffed his arm... even perfume. All with the snap of her fingers. Such power... but how? He stared at Miranda, trying to figure out what her goal was, aside from humiliating him. His cock jerked and a wet spot appeared on the front of his tight pink panties.

"There's just one more thing."

Crisp looked up at Miranda as she strode towards him, holding something in her paw. Without pausing, she grasped the waist of his panties and pulled it out and down, hooking it under his full testicles. The feline strapped a cockring around Crisp's shaft, buttoning the leather strap. The wolf shuddered as her fingers playfully teased his hard length, but they withdrew all too soon.

"Look at you... cock hanging out... dressed like a cheerleading bimbo... you're not even much of a male anymore, are you?"

The feline dragged her claws through Crisp's thick ruff of neck fur. He moaned again.

"Oh? That too? Really... well, well, well... my pretty little wolf is full of surprises."

Crisp cracked open his eyes, wondering what she was talking about. His cock throbbed against the cockring. He was so hard already...

Miranda pointed towards the floor behind Crisp. "Put them on, pet."

The wolf turned around. A pair of bright pink and white sneakers sat on the floor. The large white laces were undone. They were plush to the touch as he felt the inside. As he leaned over, Miranda stuck a paw between his thighs and took a firm grip on his testicles. Crisp gasped and froze as her fingers roughly massaged his family jewels.

"I'm not letting go till those sneakers are on your feet," Miranda said, her voice a viciously lustful purr. To emphasize her point, she gave his balls a few good, hard squeezes.

Crisp's muzzle opened and a moan rolled past his lips. His cock lurched and the wet spot grew larger. Leaning over as he was, it wasn't too hard to get his feet moving, but Miranda would give him a good solid squeeze every few seconds, making focusing on the job all but impossible.

"Having trouble?" she purred.

Crisp shuddered, wincing, moaning as the feline's palm squeezed around his balls, pinching them in the pink panties. He stuffed his foot into one pink sneaker and shivered at the sensation of it hugging his foot. He got his other foot in the second, then focused on lacing them up. Miranda pulled, almost dragging him off balance. The feline laughed as she listened to Crisp's pained moans of pleasure.

The wolf's fingers trembled as he struggled to lace up the girly shoes. He blushed, eyes closing as he felt the black cat's paw massage his balls even more firmly. He hurried, doing a sloppy knot on the first, then the second.

"F... finished, mistress!" he gasped.

Miranda gave him one more good squeeze before releasing his full nuts. Crisp fell onto his knees, shuddering, paws going to his cock and balls. He shivered, panting, muzzle opening. Trembling fingers reached for the cockring as he wiggled his toes inside of the fresh new shoes. He had to cum... he had to...

Miranda smiled as she watched her plaything moan on the floor. The feline watched him struggle with the cockring for a few moments.

"You won't get it off. Nothing can remove it except for me."

Crisp moaned again and shuddered. His cock was so hard...

"Don't worry, pet... I'll let you cum... eventually."

Miranda's laugh echoed through the room and into the rest of the house, followed by a few loud groans from the wolf.

"On your feet, pet... time to show me how your cheer skills are."

Crisp groaned into the carpet, fingers still tugging futilely on the cockring. He believed her when she said it wouldn't come off, which meant there was no other recourse.

He got to his feet, ears burning and folded flat to his head. His bushy black tail tucked between his legs as Miranda took a seat in one of the chairs nearby. The wolf retrieved the pom-poms from the floor and shivered as his cock jerked, half-out of his pink panties.

"Dance for me, pet. Shake that cute rump of yours."

Crisp closed his eyes, gasping for breath. He was humiliated now. Dancing? Like this? But there was nothing for it. He shook his hips slowly side to side, trying to pick up a rhythm.

"Oh, I forgot the music! Sill pet, you should have reminded me." Miranda snapped her fingers twice. On the first snap, an old record player in the corner came to life. The record on the turntable played an album from the '70s - all bass and funk. On the second snap, Crisp felt a ghostly force caress his cock, squeezing and stroking it all it once, until his head tipped back and he crooned out a series of agonized moans. A thin dribble of pre-cum ran down his length before soaking into his panties.

Crisp shook his hips again, this time to the music. Every now and then he'd lift his head and see Miranda staring at him, a smile on her lips, her legs crossed as she watched him closely.

"Turn around, pet... show me that backside."

Crisp blushed, but did as he was told. He leaned over, paws going flat to the floor, showing off his flexibility. Miranda snapped her fingers and a wave of power smacked across Crisp's pink panties. He yelped and jerked forward.

"And one more for luck..."

Another invisible spanking left Crisp gasping. His rump cheeks burned. His balls ached. His cock throbbed. His chest felt tight from breathing so hard.

"Well, the dancing will improve as you practice," Miranda said, a note of smug confidence in her voice implying Crisp's ordeal was no one-night stand. "But that's good enough for now. Time for your reward."

Crisp thought she meant the removal of the cockring, but the feline had other ideas. Her finger curled, beckoning Crisp closer, as her legs spread. She purred at him and slid a paw down her thigh. On the way back up, she grasped the hem of her skirt, pulling it to reveal the tight panties hugging her hips and mound.

The wolf sunk to his knees in front of her chair. How could he do anything else? The need in his cock was so bad, he'd be willing to do most anything for relief. A black high heel slid past the side of the wolf's head, followed by a lean calf and thigh. Miranda draped her right leg over the wolf's shoulder and pulled him forward. He reached up, awkwardly pulling her panties lower, nostrils flaring at the scent of her own arousal.

"That's a good pet..."

Crisp glanced up at Miranda before her face disappeared from view behind her chest. Her fur was less gray around the temples, he noticed. And her muzzle had a few less wrinkles. He didn't have time to think about it, however, before he found his nose shoved between the feline's thighs.

The potency of her taste nearly made him forget his own aching arousal. Her fingers clutched at his head as he used his long tongue to full effect on the feline. Miranda groaned heartily, leaning back, both legs going over Crisp's shoulders. She locked her ankles and pulled him in tight, forcing his muzzle right against her wet feminine sex.

Crisp wasn't sure how long he was down there, but Miranda came at least twice. The feline panted, draped against the chair, slouched down as Crisp pulled his muzzle away. Her legs slipped from his shoulders as he knelt, one paw slowly massaging his cock on the off chance he could force an orgasm out.

"Such... such a good pet," Miranda gasped.

When she leaned up, Crisp realized he hadn't imagined what he'd seen earlier. There was no trace of gray fur on the feline at all, now. She was completely coated in silky, luscious black fur. Her breasts had filled out, now overflowing the leather girdle, which was a few sizes too small. Her arms and legs were tighter, toned, and her belly showing a hint of definition. Her hair had grown, as well, and now fell past her shoulders.

She was getting younger. That was the only thing that could explain it.

"Mmmh... such a good boy..." Miranda stood up, placing one foot down on either side of Crisp's hips. He stared up at her, on his elbows, eyes wide. "Now I think it's time for your other reward..."

The feline made Crisp earn his orgasm. Her heels pressed into his cock, pinning it to his cheerleading outfit. After working him up into a moaning mess, she knelt down, straddling his knees, and leaned forward. Crisp lifted his head to watch as her muzzle dropped lower, closer... his hips lifted at the touch of her rough tongue across his sensitive flesh. He dropped his head onto the carpet and let out a long moan of desire. She leaned back, sensing his paws reaching for her.

"Oh, no, no, pet. No touching for you..."

Miranda leaned back down and kissed his tip as she snapped her fingers. The wolf grunted as his arms were pulled up above his head and behind him. A firm grip kept them pinned to the floor. His belly and chest heaved as he gasped for air. The feline's tongue rolled over his tip, then across his shaft... finally, she took his member into her muzzle, between her lips, to the back of her throat, wetting it with her warm, slick saliva.

Crisp would have thrust had he been able, but the magical force held him down as well as any straps or bondage equipment. He was helpless as the feline expertly teased him: kissing, licking, suckling, stroking his cock, nipples, muzzle, chest... Miranda leaned over, pulled her girdle open at the front laces, and allowed her heavy breasts to spill out, more full and firm and generous than ever. Crisp's agonized, hungry moans filled the air as Miranda slid back and forth, forcing his erection through the tight, fuzzy tunnel of cleavage.

The black cat shivered. She was feasting on the wolf's lust. There was so much of it, so finely attuned... it was a match, a good one, and she intended to work the panting male for as much as he had. She could feel his heat between her breasts and smiled as he howled weakly, fingers clenching and unclenching.

But there was a time to end all good things. Miranda closed her eyes, already feeling rejuvenated from the meal. She hadn't been able to satisfy herself this well in decades. The right males just didn't come along that often.

"Such a good pet... I think it's time to let you loose..."

Crisp closed his muzzle, eyes wide and glassy. He whimpered with need as his angry red shaft twitched rapidly between Miranda's breasts. The feline leaned over, plump lips attaching to the tip, and slipped a paw underneath her breasts.

Miranda's tail shot straight back behind her when she unsnapped the cockring. Crisp let out another howl as he came. Lust flooded the feline's body, energizing her, renewing her, filling her from the inside out. At the same time, her muzzle filled with the wolf's potent seed. She swallowed, purring all the while, as the wolf's body twitched and shifted beneath her.

Slim black-furred fingers stroked Crisp's length; the feline muzzle pulled every drop. She even got in a few more good squeezes on his aching balls, eliciting even more moans from the panting, feminized male.

When Crisp was able to focus, he looked at Miranda. She appeared almost thirty years younger now, no more than her early 20s. Her figure was full, buxom, the prime of her life - again. Crisp didn't know how she did it, but he also didn't much care. He'd never been milked like that in his life. The feline was still suckling his shaft now and again, trying to get any last drops, and sending aftershocks of pleasure that rattled his bones.

"Good pet," Miranda said, leaning back. She tossed her girdle to the side, allowing her pert, heavy breasts to hang free. "I think you'll be coming to visit me again very soon..."

"A... again?" Crisp gasped, his voice a croak. "But... why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to possibly discover. If you're a good boy."

Miranda smiled and lifted her paw.

"Better put that away. It's a long walk home."

"Wait, but... mistress!"

Crisp blinked. He was on his back, but no longer in the strange house full of antiques. He was on a linoleum tiled floor. A bathroom? Lights, stalls, urinals. Definitely a bathroom. He could hear noise outside as he got to his feet. He was still wearing the cheerleading costume and quickly stuffed his half-hard cock back into his pink panties as he moved to the door and cracked it open. Outside, a stream of people walked back and forth in both directions. Storefronts lined the hall.

He was back in the mall. He was back in the mall, half-hard, dressed like a cheerleader, wearing pink shoes, and he reeked of sex. His muzzle was still soaked in Miranda's juices. His tail went between his legs, but the throb deep in the root of his balls made him moan. He was going to have to walk out of the mall like this. In public.

The sinks didn't work, he discovered. A coincidence, or Miranda's doing? No doubt his mistress wanted him to walk out of the mall with her taste on his lips.

Mistress... weird, how he was already calling her that in his head.

A faint feminine laugh echoed through the bathroom. A brown leather wallet fell from the air and bounced off Crisp's head onto the floor. He picked it up and opened it. The wallet was his, but there was a new card in it. He pulled the white piece of paper out and read it, then slid it back inside. He smiled, hesitantly at first, and straightened his back. He pulled his skirt down as low as it could go, distinctly aware of the lack of flesh covered by the skimpy material, and clutched his wallet tightly in his paw. At least she hadn't gave him a purse as well.

He glanced at his fist holding the wallet, one paw on the door, ready to leave and face the public in his current state. His heart thudded in his chest and already his ears were burning with embarrassment. Only one thing propelled him to take that first step: the card.

It was a simple little card, really, but it spoke volumes. The top line said "PROPERTY OF" in large block letters. Underneath, Miranda's name was printed. Below that: "If found, contact owner." There was a number after it. And then his name.

The end