A disorienting weightlessness cradled her when Reyna woke from her nap. Her last memory was of falling asleep in her cat form surrounded by her pride. When had she shifted back to human? Awareness quickly snapped into focus. She knew this sensation. Horrified, she struggled violently, flailing both arms and legs despite knowing the futility of her actions. She was well and truly trapped and wouldn’t be freed until others deemed it so.
She let out a primal scream–part rage, part fear. Dear God, not again.
“Reyna, calm yourself.” Jorlan’s calm, commanding voice cut through her panic like a knife.
She hissed at her cousin, all the fury in her locked onto him as her target. He was responsible for this. Despite not being a queen, officially she was the leader of this pride. However, the younger ones all followed Jorlan’s direction without question, as normally did she.
“Why? I shifted, damn it. Why are you doing this?”
“It’s necessary,” he answered calmly.
“Necessary for whom?” Enraged, she shifted to feline—proving she could now do so at will—and twisted and turned to no avail. Part of her knew the effort was wasted. Jorlan would simply wait until she exhausted herself before beginning.
A firestorm. Hadn’t one trip through hell been enough?
Felini females couldn’t shift until after puberty. Then they had their first estrous, or heat. It could begin as early as age thirteen or as late as twenty. All females needed a little help jumpstarting the hormones that kicked puberty into gear. In most cases, a bit of heavy petting—the kind engaged in by human teenagers—was enough to start the process. However, if a female reached the age of seventeen without shifting, on her eighteenth birthday she went through a Firestorm.
At the age of seventeen, Reyna had the appearance of a fully mature human female, but sexually she’d been stunted. She had no interest in the males of her species. Had never had a crush and try as she might, didn’t understand why the other females her age seemed to lose all sense and become sex crazy when one of the boys their age came around.
Jorlan had repeatedly assured her she was merely a late bloomer. When she was ready, her sexual appetite would develop and be as strong as any Felini female. However Reyna hadn’t believed him.
Already feeling like an outcast from the rest of her pride because of her differences, Reyna had been pleased when the morning of her eighteenth birthday arrived. Her ritual was scheduled for ten a. m. and she couldn’t wait. Finally she’d rise above the shame of her birth and be on track to becoming a queen like the rest of the mature females of their pride. Reyna had desperately wanted to be normal, and her mother had convinced her the Firestorm would give normality to her.
At nine a. m. she was taken into the bathing area and cleansed from head-to-toe by her mother and the rest of the queens of the pride. Ensconced in a robe, she was escorted to the breeding room. Minutes later, she hung spread-eagle and naked, suspended two feet above the mating bed in a clever contraption comprised of netting made of tiny silken threads with the strength of reinforced steel and flexibility of bungee cording. The device left every surface of her body exposed and accessible.
Next, four of the pride’s best breeders were called in. They took their positions: one at her head, one at her core, and one to her right and left. Clothed only in skin-tight leather pants, they were a sight to get any female’s juices flowing.
As was proper, her mother Isabella stepped forward and stated their purpose for gathering. To Reyna’s disappointment, even now her mother could barely look at her. Isabella reminded the breeders of their limitations. They were to arouse only. No copulating allowed. Then they were loosed to do that which they excelled—bringing a woman pleasure.
Eight hands and four mouths, all concentrating on taking her to the highest level of ecstasy. They began with the lightest of strokes, easing Reyna into a state of relaxation, gentling her to their touch. Gradually they increased the intensity, randomly straying and toying with erogenous zones when she least expected it.
As her arousal rose, so did the level of expertise displayed. They played her like a fine instrument and her body responded like a violin in the hands of a master. It sang.
Higher and higher she’d climbed, closer and closer to the peak of orgasm only to be eased from the precipice before she could launch off. As soon as she’d catch her breath, the climb would begin again, achieving elevated heights she’d only imagined before once again she was left hanging. On and on it continued, until what was once pleasurable became torturous. Until her skin was so sensitized, the very air and the bindings brushing against it hurt. To escape, she’d withdrawn deep inside herself.
Long after they should have, the queens finally called a halt. When Reyna came back to herself, she discovered she’d been released and lay curled in the fetal position on the mating bed. She shivered convulsively, her tears making a huge wet spot under her head. Jorlan stood nearby watching over her, cursing a blue streak.
It was a day before the trembling stopped. Another two before she could stand fabric against her skin. An additional three before she could be touched without jerking and crying out in pain. Months before the nightmares ceased.
And it had all been for nothing.
The queens waited forty-eight hours for her to shift. The normal response time was twenty to fifty hours. Not only hadn’t Reyna experienced her first shift into her Felini form, the whole experience had left her sexually cold. When her mother mentioned trying again Reyna had suffered a severe panic attack, proving to Isabella how weak her daughter really was. Reyna had determined then and there to remain a Quork—a Felini who couldn’t shift into their animal form—before putting herself through that torture again.
“Don’t do this, Jorlan. You remember what happened last time.” Reyna hated the fact she’d been reduced to pleading.
“I must, my queen.” In his eyes she saw determination, a hint of sadness, and a touch of regret. Only Jorlan knew she still had lingering nightmares about her Firestorm, despite it happening over a decade ago.
Jorlan, friend, confidant…betrayer.