Mike was twenty-six years old, six foot six inches tall and weighed about one hundred ninety five pounds of mostly muscle, with black hair and brown eyes. He was considered plain and dressed plainly but not ugly, had a graduate degree in teaching with a masters in linguistics, and a first dan black belt in Aikido. He was owned by one very large affectionate cat and was single - very single - and right now, utterly baffled at how he had gotten himself into a situation like this.
The last thing he remembered was getting a call from his study buddy Linora Roberts. She invited him over to her place because she was having a Halloween party and she desperately needed his bartending skills. It was short notice, but he said he could make it as long as he didn't need a costume.
Mike had taken up bartending not to make money, but to teach himself how to listen. His mother, a retired teacher, had complained that the toughest thing she had to learn as a teacher was how to listen to her students. He had resolved to learn that early, and discovered bartending at small pubs and quiet parties made sure that he would learn to listen to people. It paid off well - he developed an ability to pick up hidden meanings behind words, and the ability to see through the masks people wear every day.
He had shown up at the Halloween party and enjoyed listening to people as he served drinks. He hadn't been hit on once, and Linora mentioned how sorry she was for this. He had waved it off as nothing important, and explained to her that it was just as well, as a distracted bartender made bad drinks. That conversation was his last memory of the party.
Now he was someone's prisoner, blindfolded, attached to a wall by metal shackles, and alone.
No - not quite alone. In the distance - it sounded like he was in a room at least the size of a gymnasium - he heard voices mumbling and chanting. There were no echoes. His logical mind considered it carefully and concluded that the walls were probably not bare. That would also explain why he was not cold, even though he was hanging naked. He hadn't been out long - a good two hours at best, judging by how not hungry he was - so he was sure that no one had missed him yet. Not that anyone would miss him anyway, at school. He had focused too much on schooling and not enough in socializing, and that was another part of why he chose bartending as a way to make money. Truthfully, he had also hoped to meet someone at the many parties he tended. He never did make any connections though, he just learned to listen well.
He listened carefully now, concentrating on the chanting, and he realized that they were drawing nearer. Mike listened to the words once he could hear them distinctly, but it sounded like mostly gibberish - although a few words he recognized as modern pronunciations of old Sumerian. Then the chanting paused, and all he could hear was the shuffling of feet - and then the clatter of chains on stone.
Mike was slowly lowered from his position on the wall. His hands had been chained to a pole attached to the wall. He landed on his feet, on cold stone, and was dragged forward in a straight line. He could feel lines of metal inlay on the floor. They felt particularly warm on his feet compared to the rest of the stone around him. He was pushed to the floor and the pole was locked with a solid click on one end, and left to swing free while he rested on one knee.
Mike listened carefully with hopes of hearing something that might explain what was going on. He heard the people that had moved him step away, so he attempted to remove the blindfold using just his knee. He misjudged the distance and banged his nose, causing a splash of stars to cross his vision just as the blindfold dropped loosely to his neck. His vision cleared and he looked around carefully.
He was in a huge, vaulted stone room. The floor was covered in silver inlay in the shape of a massive pentagram, with strange inscriptions in red metal and black metal. He was within the pentagram, slightly off center. This barely registered, as he stared at what surrounded him.
At each point of the pentagram of stood an incredible vision of beauty, dressed in nothing but flesh. All five women were naked, kneeling with heads bowed. Once again the chanting resumed. Mike looked around the room and saw that he was not the only prisoner. He recognized two others from the party, and a third - Linora.
It troubled him that he could not remember anything from the party other than arriving and mixing a few drinks. He considered shouting out to Linora, but considered that it might place her in danger. He returned his attention to the five maidens of the pentagram. They were not armed or in any way threatening, but he felt that there was something he was missing. He examined each one carefully. All had long, red hair that flowed loosely down their backs and over their breasts. Those breasts ranged in size from mere points to pendulous, full melons, and the women themselves ranged from petite to tall. Each woman wore only two things, a locket and a ring, both made of gold. Mike thought, after his examination of all the women, that if he didn't have the restraints on, there would have been nothing to stop him from leaving. That idea persisted until something encroached on his peripheral vision.
Mike lived alone, but he had a cat. He'd worried a bit about the cat when he discovered his current predicament. His cat was his pride and joy, best friend through thick and thin, and, he liked to say, the one thing that kept him sane. The thought of the cat languishing unfed and unloved while he was held prisoner wherever this was concerned him nearly as much as what might happen to him. But now he spied a cat patrolling around the outer edge of the ring surrounding the pentagram. It looked exactly like his cat. His cat was very distinctive - all grey but for twin patches on either shoulder of stark white, in the shape of wings that flowed across her back to her tail. In addition to the wings, his cat had a stark white almond shaped patch around each eye, and her eyes were different colors - one orange, one green. She was a large cat, standing a little over a foot at the shoulder. Her name was Liloo. And right now, she was stalking around the outskirts of the pentagram.
Mike didn't know what she was doing here, but she definitely looked agitated. Two of the chanting women had caught sight of her and stumbled in their chant, which caused the others to look up to see what was going on. It wasn't long before they had all seen his cat - and none of them seemed happy about it.
Liloo looked a bit more than agitated now. Her hackles were up and her ears were laid flat. The more Mike looked at her the more angry and frightened she appeared. The chanting continued inexorably and he could feel a pressure building in his head. He watched Liloo scamper up to the edge of the circle and try to move into it, but it looked like she bounced off a barrier of some sort. She moved back and threw herself at the barrier again with more force. He saw sparks fly where she hit. She flew backwards from it and landed roughly. Mike was so worried he shouted her name out in worry.
Then strangest thing began to happen with Liloo. She began to change. Her body grew longer and leaner. Her hips became wider, and her rear legs lengthened while her forelegs lengthened to became arms with hands. Her head became more human. In less than ten seconds she changed into a fully grown woman - a woman replete with cat ears positioned at the top of her head, a fury outfit and a long supple tail. She stood up and looked directly at Mike. "Whatever you do, my love, please don't give in!" she said in a singsong voice, queerly similar to that of her cat version. It was familiar music to Mike's ears.
Mike didn't quite understand what she meant about 'don't give in, ' so he started paying more attention to the chanters - witches? - And the pentagram. Concentrating, he saw a pinpoint of bright light developing at the exact center of the pentagram. Mike didn't know what was happening, but he instinctively positioned himself with his shoulder facing the light so that whatever emerged or exploded, he'd present the least amount of body surface to potential damage.
There was a slow growth of the light, along with a surging of the chants, then, when the chanting reached a crescendo, the light shrunk to a tiny point and exploded with a loud pop and dazzling sparks. Mike was prepared for this, and he brought up his arm to block the brightness. He was shocked to see the bones in his arm against the light. He dropped his arm and looked at the center again.
Where the light had exploded, there stood a towering woman. She was at least seven feet tall, with long golden bronze hair that flew wildly about her head in some otherworldly breeze. Her eyes were piercing blue and her face was slim, angular and young-looking. Her mouth had full red lips that spoke of youthful desires. She had breasts that each were as large as his head, and while on any other woman they would have been huge, on her they were perfect. Her skin was flawlessly smooth and bronzed by the sun. Womanly hips flared from a narrow waist, and the joining of her legs had just a slight touch of golden bronze hair, with lips just visible below them, shouting to be kissed. She was muscular but slender, and completely bereft of any garments but a few pieces of gold and silver.
Mike felt a wash of power emanate from the woman and he instantly knew he was in danger. He heard Liloo's singsong voice. "You cannot let her take control, Mike! You must subdue her. Quickly! Control her! Own her!"
.... There is more of this story ...