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The quieted rumble of the engine idling stirred Veronica from her drunken swoon. Then the click of the rear taxi door opening, and the gentle nudging of hands, brought her fully to.

Xavier looked down on his new white tigress with a deep sense of... well, he didn't know what, but there was care there. Now was not the time for soul-searching, however. He gently shook her shoulder, and she turned, blinking large green eyes at him as her mind returned from its unconcious wanderings.

She looked up at him. Now that his trenchcoat was gone--wrapped around her, in fact--he wore black silk suit pants and a loose black blouse, the kind with only three buttons extending down from the neck; the buttons were undone, exposing a firm, glossy black chest. She smiled at him, nervous as hell but too tired to really care.

He helped her up, leaving the trenchcoat wrapped around her, and guided her away from the cab. The taxi roared away into the otherwise silent night, and the black panther led his new companion across the damp asphalt and toward a long drive.

Veronica, slightly drunk and quite tired from her stressful night, blinked up blearily at the sight before her. The road they were on was lined with tall green pines, pines that jutted like dark kings into the black sky. The long drive was guarded by a black wrought-iron gate, the kind with ornamental spikes along the top... though these did not look quite so ornamental as most.

The drive led through what was practically forest, a grassy, hilly area covered in yet more pines. The gate began to swing shut behind them; Xavier had the electronic control in his paw. The two moved slowly up the drive, stray brown leaves flitting over the blacktop, a light breeze bringing with it the scent of fresh clean air.

How far had they driven? Veronica was suddenly more awake, alert, nervous. She had expected... she didn't know what. An apartment, a government job, a reasonable existence. That's what the black leopard looked like he had. But this... Did he LIVE here? This place was huge, an estate at the very least. The iron gates clung to stone walls that rimmed the whole place in... and she couldn't even see the ends of the property. What sort of man, living in a place like this, would have to buy a companion? Any woman would be willing to live with a male who could provide her with such a rich existence. No, this was something else, she felt. Sex slave, maybe, but... what if he had more... perverted... tastes? If he wanted her to fulfill some fantasy, some fetish? He owned her now, there was no escape. At least, no legal escape. She wanted to turn, to look into his eyes, to see what she could feel there... but she was too frightened, her heart racing in her chest.

Xavier led her down the long drive, knowing she was nervous and understanding why. Well, she'd see the truth soon enough. He would try to keep her comfortable, but in all likelihood she would not like what she learned. At least, he thought with a sigh, he could keep her comfortable. His place was large, to say the least... He was what he was, and this wealthy life came from it naturally.

And soon this wealth was more than apparent. The building loomed ahead, tall and gray. Veronica noted with a now dull sort of surprise that it resembled a castle. It was large, forbidding, Gothic. How far had they driven? Where the hell had he TAKEN her? They were nowhere near the city, and she wasn't really drunk any longer... so they had to have been driving a couple hours at least. And the air was clean, not thick and muggy and dirty like the air of the city.

She let herself be guided to a wide set of gray stairs that led to a huge, thick oak double doors bound with studded iron bands. They climbed the stairs slowly, his arm around her waist for support, and he pulled a single skeleton key from his jeans pocket. He used it to unlock the heavy door, and then shoved it open with some exertion, leading the tigress in behind him.

She was rather suprised; where she'd expected rich embellishments--tapestries, red carpets perhaps, chandeliers--the place was rather spartan. The stone theme was continued inside the building, except for the floor, which was old, shining wood planks, laid-over in some places with plain white carpet.

"Welcome home, Veronica," Xavier said softly, speaking for the first time since he'd woken her. He turned toward her, waving one arm around the room. "This is your new house. I'll show you around."

Her mind was a blur. She didn't remember much of the tour, being tired and overwhelmed; it all swam together in her mind. The rooms were large, most with fireplaces, and filled with luxuries; large baths, huge plush beds, thick couches. There were some tapestries elsewhere in the house. Almost none of the floors were carpeted; all were wooden or stone. The kitchen was huge, the ceiling soaring; skylights let moonlight drift down to the counter island. The refridgerator was huge. The den was amazing, and had been constructed as though by an extreme eccentric; one had to descend a stairwell, and not a well-lit one, which slowly turned to dripping brown stone, as if in a cave. It had been hollowed out of the earth itself. The stairwell ended in a huge brown cave, floored in more common stone tiling, with framed posters on the wall. A flick of a switch flooded the place with light; tall lamps stood in three corners, and one domed light hung overhead. Three large plush couches surrounded a huge LCD television, and a cabinet beside it held the home theatre equipment. A table in front of the couches for entertainment had an obsidian top.

The tour complete, Xavier led the white tigress upstairs, to a well-furnished room complete with lace curtains drawn around the bed.

"This," he explained in a kind voice, "is your room, and you can sleep in here as long as you like. If and when you decide you are comfortable sleeping with me, you may; and bedding down with me will be chaste until you tell me otherwise. Understood?" She nodded.

Xavier slid his large black paws up the tigress's face, resting them on her cheeks, running his thumbs up and down beside her nose. "I hope you are happy here," he purred at last, and now that she was looking into his bright green eyes, she could feel that, strangely enough, he was telling the truth about that. She was too tired to examine his motives now, and he still seemed the gentleman he had earlier, at the brothel. She would sleep now, and think later. Xavier watched her for a moment.

"If you need anything else, just let me know; I'm upstairs in the room with the black door--you know the one. Don't hesitate to wake me." He faltered, watching her eyes, and spoke again. "You may explore the house further, if you like, but do not enter the grounds. I have several highly trained guard dogs--a quarter wolf, actually--and they do not know who you are. They will attack if you leave the house, just a warning." She nodded... so she was a prisoner here. He nodded, seeming glad to get that said, and gave her a soft kiss on her pink nose.

"Good night, Veronica," he sighed softly.

"Good night, Xavier," she replied, startling herself with the sound of her own voice--she hadn't spoken since they'd arrived. He turned to leave, and she watched him go... and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God..." The black feline turned back toward her, blinking.

"Yes? What's wrong?"

Veronica stared. Xavier had guided her through the house, behind her the whole way--making her a bit nervous, truth be told. He'd just turned his back on her for the first time... and she could now see the huge black-feathered wings perched powerfully on his well-muscled back. They jutted through seamed holes in his shirt, the first bend just above his head.

"You have wings," she stated dully, mind reeling. He smiled softly.

"Yes. And it doesn't make me any different." She stepped forward, hesitated, and then extended a pure white paw to his black wing. He waited, patient, and let her trail a wondering finger along the edge, let her run her hand down along the rustling feathers, let her lean in and breathe their musky scent deeply. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her once more, bid her a second good night, and closed the door softly behind him.

Veronica could not believe this. She'd gone from inner-city to Gothic medieval in the span of a few short hours. Mind overloaded, body exhausted, she took to her bed at last, golden collar glinting in the moonlight of the single small window.

The drifting howls of wolfsong did not wake her from her nearly instant deep slumber.

Xavier slipped back up to his room, moving with a natural stealth that frightened many other Furrs. He hung his trenchcoat on a stair railing as he went, noting that he'd have to buy Veronica clothing as soon as possible. He pulled the shirt off, unsnapping the seams below the wings, exposing a tight, toned chest and back with a pronounced predator's musculature. He carried the shirt into his room, which was similar to the tigress's but larger. Here he unzipped and kicked off the jeans, sitting on the bed to slide them down powerful thighs and hard calves. The briefs he removed as well, standing and stretching as he did so, exposing heavy black balls and a rather unusually large black sheath that, for the moment, he ignored. He moved to the window and looked out, long tail twitching slowly; far below, under the trees, several wolfish faces turned to look back at him, eyes glinting green in the dim light. He looked down at them, then looked out, inhaling the cool air deeply.

The winged black panther stood before the window, pale moonlight drifting in, and spread his wings wide, stretching, lost in thought, looking for all the world like a black feline angel... a dark, predatory angel.

Sometimes looks can be deceiving. Sometimes, however, they're dead-on.

For a picture of Xavier, visit http://yiffstar.com/?pid=14633