ShapeShifter Kisses

July 31, 2013

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ a cold feline fury… by Savanna Kougar

Tigers hug trees, too… 

Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Here’s the next action episode of my ongoing flash. Kytaira, my tigress shapeshifter, and Zurroc, her black tiger man, are battling an on the bad-side SWAT-type team.

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ a cold feline fury…

I have to wonder how many of the SWAT team charging toward me from every direction, know they defend a corrupt operation. One that is run by the most vile thieves who steal food from those in need.

Not an ounce of compassion stirs inside these monsters, encased in human bodies. The thought of their fellow humans starving is so much debris floating inside their heads.

I know. I scanned their minds. Gazed at their lost dark souls.

Yeah. Always know your enemy.

What I do detect from the vibes of those wearing black suits of armor, and aiming their big bad rifles at me, is their willingness to mindlessly serve a master. To be like the stormtroopers in the “Star Wars” movies.

On orders, they will capture or kill without remorse. An innocent means nothing to them.

A cold feline fury grips me as I hurl SpaghettiOs like a windmill. Zurroc throws the cans with unerring skill, keeping me supplied.

I target their big black weapons mostly. The bam-bam-bam strikes sound like strange, rapid-fire bullets. Tin clanging hard against forged-steel metal.

With their rifles jarred, or knocked out of their hands, their shots at me go wide. Soon, most of the SWAT team is slip-sliding on pools of SpaghettiOs, their arms flying about wildly as they try to keep their balance.

Twisting back and forth, I keep the enemy sighted, pelting those who are still able to attack. Grunts of shock follow as my weaponized cans boing-boing smash against their aimed rifles, or bong-bounce off their helmets.

The earthy-iron smell of spinach slams against my nostrils. Uh-Oh, no more SpaghettiOs!

To my advantage, the slimy spinach bursts out of the cans doing the job. Sliding, pumping their legs comically, my foes smash against each other.

At the same time, they try to raise their weapons, or take me out with other kill-stun types of devices. With my warrioress blood roaring through me, I take aim.

Unconscious from my hurled cans of spinach, they make friends with the asphalt parking lot real fast. Their equipment clatters loudly, even so I hear, smell the final two attempt to sneak up on my blind side.

I whip around, and crouch, confronting them. Game over.

The tigress screams inside at the menacing point of their rifles. My savage nature blinds me as I morph rapidly.

Yet, I hear the low throb-throb growl of three helicopters. Before I spring, bullets graze my sides.

The force of my pounce topples the last two like bowling pins. Behind me, Zurroc sends them into the black void with the slamming force of his mind.

‘Jet!’ I mentally shout to Zurroc, as I sprint toward the landing helicopters. ‘Make the truck invisible again. Lift off.’

I hear Zurroc’s racing steps, his quick leap onto the dock. No use letting the moving truck become an easy target.

‘What a mistake, landing the copters,’ I think, as I streak toward the nearest one. Three sets of blades whirl, creating a strong whipping wind.

I scent the adrenaline-laced blood of the sniper as he sights me. Dropping lower, I charge. The bullet he fires creases the fur on top of my head.

But his legs are all mine. I ram my chest into his shins like a linebacker, buckling his knees. The sniper’s second shot pings off the blades.

“Shapeshifter,” a commanding voice bellows over some sort of bullhorn, “surrender or your mate dies. We are prepared to sacrifice the warehouse. One more move, and the missile will be launched.”




Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire



July 24, 2013

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ my iconic commercial weapons by Savanna Kougar

Super Moon in Aquarius kisses, shapeshifter lovers. Time to tune into your dreams, then invent yourself anew with another shining aspect of who you truly are.

THANKS! To everyone who participated in the *A Midsummer Night’s Dream-Man* blog hop.  And congrats to the SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS’ winner, Colleen.

A short flash episode today, since I’m still under the weather some. And, yes, canned violence ahead.


Tigress Shapeshifter ~ my iconic commercial weapons

I glance around for my weapon of choice against the ten special-ops guards, who have surrounded the warehouse. Spying a stack of clearly labeled cases, I sing out, “Uh-Oh SpaghettiOs!”

Spinning toward the large supply, I use my claw-like nails to rip open a box, and strip away the plastic. Zurroc is beside me, tearing open more of the boxes.

“I’ll keep you supplied and guard the jet,” he growls.

I grab the twelve-pack of SpagettiOs, racing to intercept the team of four guards who are advancing on us. I smell their sweat-stench, and see them before my mind’s eye as they take up positions around our moving truck

Using his supernatural strength and speed, Zurroc tosses opened cases onto the dock. I hear the tinny thumps as I charge toward my locked and loaded prey.

Aimed, high-tech rifles greet me. The red laser pinpoints search for the kill spot as I drop the case on the dock, then bend over scooping up four cans.

“Come and get it, boys,” I murmur. Moving into a fast spin, feeling the dots of heat, I use their rifle lasers as my guide.

I hurl one can of SpaghettiOs after another. Did I mention they’re wearing night vision goggles?

Clunk. Smash. The cans strike their mark. I hear the steps of my prey falter, and the pricks of heat disappear.

Rapidly retrieving four more of my iconic commercial weapons, I whip around and finish the job. I target their goggles, throwing the cans so forcefully — bang, bang, bang, bang — the metal splits. Tomatoey gunk and the white Os ooze out as they stagger backward, then crumple to the ground out cold.

Emboldened by the arrival of the Canadian SWAT-like team — I hear the machine-racing growl of their military grade vehicles — the remaining six special-ops guards close in on my position.

I clutch the last four cans against my chest, and spring upward. Rotating through the air several times, I land on the front edge of the dock.

The tigress takes over, and I crouch, sighting the positions of my opponents. “Dinner is served,” I mutter, as I take aim.

Splat! A hard cracking splat against his temple. I watch SpaghettiOs splatter on the side of his face. He wheels around like a drunkard, the Os dripping like pieces of his brain. 

Dodging bullets, I whip around to the closest assailant. With an underhanded throw, I smash the can into his unprotected Adam’s apple.

He made the mistake of lowering his rifle to sneak up behind me. Now he staggers, his hand wrapped around his throat.

Bounce! Bong! I watch the can Zurroc’s hurled hit him square in the forehead. Straightening, he falls over backward, stiff as a corpse.

Leaping upward, I throw my can of SpaghettiOs like a speeding bullet. The third guard is targeting me up close and personal with his rifle.

Roars, oh yeah! The can strikes his third eye. I almost growl a laugh watching the can crunch like an Accordion.

SpaghettiOs spill out from the burst seams.  “Like zombie brains,” Zurroc rumbles behind me.

I whirl around, catching the can he tosses. Armed with SpaghettiOs, I launch into an aerial cartwheel. Landing in front of the dock, I aim fast, then sling both cans.

Yowls, ouch! Mr. Special Ops guys should have been wearing a helmet. The cans crash into his temples, just above the sides of his goggles.

I hear his head ringing from here, his brain sloshing. More importantly, he’s definitely down and out for the count.

Shouted commands penetrate. The sorta SWAT team rushes toward us, their armor clanking noisily. As they deploy around us, their odor overwhelms me like a backed up sewer on a sweltering summer day.

“More SpaghettiOs,” I shout.




Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire


July 18, 2013

Obviously a Montana Girl, Born and Bred by Savanna Kougar


Mid-July kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Hope summertime is treating you well. Given I’m still recovering from some health issues, I wasn’t up to writing an action scene with my tigress shapeshifter, Kytaira, and her black tiger man, Zurroc.

So… here’s a little flash scene I came up that was inspired by the picture above.

Obviously a Montana Girl, Born and Bred

Kerrigan sighed down to her cramping toes. For the last five years, she’d had a real good time partying, and experiencing the high life.

She played hard, a sweet-fierce whirl of laughter and witty conversations with friends, with the most fascinating people — all while dining on superb exotic cuisines and drinking splendid wines.

Kerrigan also worked hard, and hadn’t lost her head or her soul. She’d watched many of the other models lose themselves in the dark world of drugs, endless dieting, destructive controlling men, then bottomless despair.

She’d always offered a helping hand where she could. Being a shapeshifter, she did own an advantage most of them didn’t. There were other shifters in the biz, and some had lost their way. In most situation, though, Kerrigan had known how to contact their kin or kind.

Her life as a below-the-radar fashion model — as in ‘no’ she wasn’t a super model — not only paid the bills, but she’d socked a good portion of her earnings away for that rainy day when she decided to move on to the next phase of her life.

The time had come, and Kerrigan well knew it. She’d become restless of late, needing to shift more often, and run free over whatever expanse of land she could find. Not always the smartest move.

She’d escaped by a tail hair once from a pack of wild dogs. She grimaced, remembering, since her face couldn’t be observed. Kick hell in the butt, trapped by animal control or shot by the urban park police wasn’t her idea of a good time, either.

This gig at the car expo was her last. Everything had been finalized with her manager, and she was due to disappear on an eco getaway.

Only an hour to go, Kerrigan encouraged herself, while wishing she could do more than wiggle her achy toes.  She’d always honored her contracts, but now a ferocious itch to launch off the side of the car, to make a run for it, gripped her…

Oh, to throw caution to the wind… just leave… she felt the man’s appreciative gaze more keenly than usual. Like a damn laser pointing her out. Or on her, as if she’d been sighted by a hunting rifle.

Kerrigan also glimpsed his high-end cowboy boots that were on the edge of ostentatious, but would serve him well in the harshest ranch conditions. ‘My what big feet you have,’ she mentally sang, amusing herself.

Men were not on her life’s menu yet. She had plans to explore the ancient sites of the world, the ones humans still knew nothing about.

Kerrigan waited for him to either move on, or saunter over and give the car, and her, the once over. Instead, he remained rooted to the spot.

He stood in a group of other polished expensive cowboy boots. Very well used to this kind sexual scrutiny, Kerrigan figured she’d just let it slide off her human hide. But, race for the hills, his scent was certainly potent and manly enough.

It could be he’d mistaken her for a high-priced hooker, and was pondering on how to make her an offer she wouldn’t refuse. That had happened more than once. Though, the sudden appearance of her fangs, her curled lip… well, that warning had been enough to chase off the most determined guy.

Some of the models did sell themselves in that market. Not at this gig — one reason Kerrigan had decided to make it her swan song. 

“Obviously a Montana girl, born and bred.”

The man’s ‘wide open as the sky’ timbre commanded the immediate area, and rolled over her skin like a possessive caress.

Damn his big ole hide! Was she going to have to fight herself, and show him fang? Kerrigan had hoped to make a quick, like the fox she was, exit.

His boots finally moved, toward her, of course. Kerrigan swallowed girding herself for first contact.

He could do all the talking while she would have to stay still and mute, the perfect decoration for the posh black shiny auto.

Watching his boots, Kerrigan swallowed the acre of drought inside her throat. She’d have to endure, waiting for Nalinda, the model agency coordinator, to rescue her.

He didn’t bother eyeing the ultra expensive machine. Not a pretense. The man halted his footsteps directly before her, his presence imposing as the Montana mountains Kerrigan was familiar with, and loved exploring whenever she visited Talbot’s Peak.

But, sheesh! When had luck deserted her? At least, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to inflict a one-liner on her like ‘do you come with the car?’

“Kerrigan, I thought that was you.”

What the…? She didn’t recognize his voice, or his smell… or his big feet. Kerrigan’s gaze nearly flew to him, but years of discipline kept her statue-still. The strain of that damn well hurt her face.

Kerrigan clenched her jaw, staring at his oak-tree thighs encased in the fine wool of his suit — the color of rich coffee. How many minutes did she have left?

Where was Nalinda? And, how did he know her when she didn’t know him?

For moments, her mind raced with the same primitive panic that she’d felt escaping the wild dog pack. Although… reason came her aid… he could know her from model agency photos.

“Tell you what, beautiful darlin’, I’ll just mosey on along for now. Once you’ve clocked out, we’ll get to know each other.”

Kerrigan’s stomach did flip-flops, then tightened into a knot. What?! Like freakin’, effing hell she’d get to know him.

As if he’d sensed her thoughts, and the steam beginning to build inside her, the man hesitated. “Your father sent me to find you, Kerrigan. Little situation back home. Now, nothin’ to get in a serious twist over.”

If her dad had sent him, then it had to be critically important. He didn’t approve of her chosen lifestyle, and they’d lost contact over the years.

The man’s scent told her his words were the truth. Oh, tail flips! Now, she’d have to meet with him. Find out what… worry seized her like the jaws of a hungry werewolf.

“Twenty-five minutes. I’ll be waitin’, foxfire darlin’,” he gravelly spoke for her ears only.


Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

July 10, 2013

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ ferocious to chase and attack… by Savanna Kougar

New Moon kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Here’s the next episode of my ongoing flash. Kytaira, my tigress shapeshifter, and Zurroc, her black tiger man, are on their way to heist the food that was denied to Oklahomans by the border guards.

Minimal violence ahead…

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ ferocious to chase and attack…

On top of the moving truck inside my invisible jet, I activate the power. “Time to rock ‘n roll.”

The slightest whir of sound lets me know all is performing well. “It’s a go,” I say to Zurroc on the jet’s com system. Before leaving New York, we hooked it into the truck’s radio.

“At the first sign of trouble…” My black tiger man leaves the rest of his low growly words unspoken.

“I’ll set you down real soft and easy,” I croon like a sassy tail.

“That’s gonna cost you, tigress mine. Next time we mate.”

“Only if you can catch me,” I whisper, my tone pure enticement.

“Go. I don’t want to be dropped in the middle of the morning rush hour,” Zurroc rumbles in a deadly serious voice. Yet I hear his rampaging lust.

“Let’s see what this baby can do.” I speak to alleviate my concern.

The jet is at full power and I engage the frequency web. On screen I watch it weave around the moving truck until it disappears from view. “Testing…testing…”

Slowly, cautiously, I begin the jet’s ascent. Within moments the truck’s tires leave the street. “We have lift off,” I dramatically whisper.

“My ass is feeling suspended,” Zurroc drily quips.

Keeping one eye glued to my instrument panel, I get the feel of the truck’s cumbersome weight. “Holding…all is well,” I assure him.

Taking great care, I fly in the direction of the well lit Ambassador Bridge. Able to observe the heights of buildings easily at this slow speed, I skim over rooftops.

Midnight has come and gone. Zurroc and I decided to make our food heist once the night shift came on duty. Why scare and battle more humans than is necessary?

Before reaching the bridge, I pick up speed while monitoring the frequency web. “So far, so good,” I say, then blow out the breath I’ve been holding.

“What about hitching a ride on top of that semi?” Zurroc rumbles, as we close in on the bridge.

I consider the idea, but something warns me off. As warrioress, I’ve come to trust this intuitive ping. “Do you know how much weight the top of a semi can hold?”

“No,” he barks in tiger.

“I don’t want to set down, then have to lift off if the top caves in,” I say.

Zurroc remains silent, knowing I must focus now. I negotiate a path that leads us to the bridge, then cruise above the flow of traffic. Once I’ve locked in the coordinates that will take us to the other side, I integrate my psi sense with the jet’s electro-magnetic system.

I realize immediately the system is straining. Although, the loss of power is minimal at this point, and doesn’t register on the panel. But, damn the rhino hide!

“Rhino hide?” Zurroc softly demands, having caught the expression from our homeworld as I thought it.

“No problem now.” Reluctantly, I add, “There could be later.”

“Later,” he growls in that tone that says it all.

I ease the jet’s speed ever higher, debating with myself about the loss of power now, versus what would be gained by arriving and departing faster. I could have put the question to the ultra computer. But that would be another small drain on the system.

Soon we’re outracing the traffic by a good margin. As we close in on the Canadian border, then shoot above the stopped traffic below, the tigress merges her senses with mine, and my fierce nature takes over.

Having mind-scanned the route to the warehouse complex, I quickly arrive and locate the right loading dock. Within minutes, I’ve descended and settled the moving truck.

To conserve power, I shut down the jet, a move I hadn’t planned on making. This will slow our take off time.

“Rock ‘n roll.” With a twist, I leap from the jet. Landing, I see Zurroc has already leapt out, and is opening the back of the moving truck.

Racing forward, I alter the density of my body, then phase through steel. Once inside the warehouse, I whirl and quickly figure out the opening mechanism. As I raise the huge, garage-like door the surprised shouts begin.

Ignoring the commands hurled at me, the guns now aimed in my direction by three guards who run toward me military style, I take a deep breath, and initiate my shift.

The tigress roars, ferocious to chase and attack. As full tiger, with power surging, singing through my muscles, I charge the closest target.

He halts in his footsteps, frozen. His gun shakes as if it’s been turned into a cheap vibrator. His eyes bulge like they’ve been replaced by golf balls.

I’m nearly on top of him when his brain finally gets the message through to his feet. His adrenalin kicks in, and with a strangled scream he spins, running for his life.

Badly aimed bullets pop around me as I whip around. Three guards fire, their military training obvious, even if they can’t shoot straight. Shock has them in its jaws.

I bound toward them like the killer beast I am. Their eyes turn to glassy unseeing spheres just before they scatter like prey, and sprint for the exits.

I run the aisles, roaring, sniffing out the two remaining guards who attempt to hide themselves. Once I flush them out, I take swipes at their frantically pumping legs — just for fun.

With the warehouse cleared, I listen for the silent alarm. Nothing. Why?

Yes, the cameras whir, recording everything. To kill their digital eyes, I’ll have to shift first.

Scenting Zurroc’s position, I race toward him, morphing as I run. He’s already loading the moving truck with case after case of canned food. By the smell I realize he’s found a cache of organic vegetables.

Once I’ve fully shifted to human form, I concentrate for several moments. Every electronic device fizzles out, dead.

Zurroc and I work side-by-side, rapidly filling the moving truck with the best food we can find on the heavily stocked shelves. We continue knowing the special ops squad — there to guard the illegal drugs and the cartel money — have surrounded the warehouse.

We also know the Canadian version of SWAT teams are on the way.

“The X-Files ops are coming,” Zurroc informs, as he tosses a case of artichoke hearts high, so it lands on top of the stacked cases.




Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

July 5, 2013

Tigress Shapeshifter ~ on second thought a little lesson in carnage by Savanna Kougar

Friday kisses, shapeshifter lovers. Hope you had a lovely Fourth of July.

I tried to post on Tuesday. However, tech glitches defeated my efforts.

Honestly, I can hardly believe it is July. I hope you enjoy all the right kinds of fireworks. ~wink!~

No fireworks in today’s flash scene, or actual violence. Kytaira, my tigress shapeshifter, and Zurroc, her black tiger man, are planning their food heist for the sake of those in need.


Tigress Shapeshifter ~ on second thought a little lesson in carnage

Continued from the week before ~

Zurroc thumbs my palm lazily. He rumbles a knowing laugh when the bio globe I’ve placed on my lap glows, blazes red, then fills the truck cab with a dazzling light.

“Stop that,” I order the globe. “We’re supposed to be traveling incognito.”


Late night, and Zurroc and I are parked close to a big box store, not far from the border crossing at Windsor, Ontario — where the truckload of food was refused entry. I’ve already zapped several cameras, including one red light camera programmed as a moneymaker for Detroit.

“Goldmine to say the least,” I say softly to Zurroc, after a more thorough mind-scan.

“Three warehouses full of confiscated items,” Zurroc growls above a whisper. Telepathically connected to me, he sees the images in my mind. “Lots of pantry food, so it wouldn’t spoil.”

“There’s room in the van for a lot of it,” I murmur. After all, Zurroc and I don’t have many Earth possessions, and only a few crucial devices from our homeworld.

“If I followed your scan accurately, there’s a black market operation. Looks lucrative.”

“I concentrated on the food storage sections. But, yes, I noticed. Lot of action out the  back door.”

“Do we make the great grocery heist tonight?” Zurroc asks.

“No time like the present. I don’t like tunnels,” I snarl, referring to the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel that passes beneath the Detroit River.

“No fast getaway on a bridge, either, my tigress. We need another plan like we talked about.”

“Silly cub me.” I shake my short cap of hair. “When I read that news article I had no clue we’d have to cross a river, a major-artery type of river. There are miles of Big Foot forest along the Canadian border, and I thought…”

Frustration eats at me like the horde of mosquitos we’d encountered earlier. Yet even as I speak an idea forms… a risky plan because I’ve never done it before.

“The jet,” I blurt out. “What does this truck weigh?”

Reluctance in his voice, Zurroc tells me, and I quickly compute the carrying capacity of my invisible jet’s fusion beam, a web of energy that captures an enemy, or carries objects.

“You know, even if your jet is capable of lifting this truck… for how long, Kytaira?”

Zurroc is not happy, his tone surly. I don’t blame him.

Too late, though. Excitement  surges, builds inside me. My tigress blood races as if I bound over the beautiful wildlands of our homeworld.

“If we get off the ground, I’ll follow the Ambassador bridge. Set down if… you know my pilot skills.”

“Beyond excellent,” Zurroc concedes, then turns the key in the ignition. “That means I remain inside the van. Get the motor running if… what about the extra weight once the truck is loaded?”

I take a moment to consider. “Then we make a run for it. And I telepathically holler for assistance from our ET brethren.”

I feel Zurroc’s scowl more than see it form in my peripheral vision. Still, we’re rolling toward the parking lot’s exit. “I’ll get us as close as possible to the bridge,” he grumbles, but it’s a fierce grumble.

I nod, and begin removing my clothes. Likely the tigress will be needed. She roars agreement, and her lithe fearsome strength soars through my limbs.

There’s a contingency of guards at the three warehouses, both outside and inside. Actually, they’re well-armed thugs, because of the illegal drugs shipments that are stored in a fenced off area.

“Only one warehouse,” Zurroc sternly commands, as he slowly negotiates through the street traffic.

Purposefully, he doesn’t look my way. Our raw carnal desire for each other could interfere with my focus, and his vow to be my stone-cold warrior.  Although, I can’t help but scent his potent male need.

“Yes, my tiger man,” I say, having already decided to tackle only the warehouse with the most usable food stuffs. “I’ll land on the freight dock like a cat. Blast the door apart. And we’re in.”

“Like a cat.” Zurroc allows himself a short laugh. “The black helicopters will show. There’s a vault of drug cartel money.”

“Agreed. Unless we get in and out fast enough. Then disappear… although, on second thought a little lesson in carnage might be just what those corporate, drug-running bastards need.”




Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire


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