Silken

A cat tries to rob a Chinatown store, but its owner finds a better use for him. Explicit.

The lanterns were strung up, the already-cramped streets were choked with stalls and people, and every single shop was busy. Obviously, Chinese New Year was a big event in Chinatown, and that was what made it the perfect time for a bit of petty thievery.

See, all of the shop owners would be busy as hell—and likely not even in the shops, if they had a stall out on the street. With so many people around, one little orange tabby cat could easily go missing. No one would pick him out when the place was packed with tourists. He knew a couple of the back streets, since he'd come here a couple of times before. One of his friends had a thing for Chinese food. It was simple, easy, hard to fuck up. Get in the back of a shop, grab some expensive stuff, and make a couple hundred selling it all on the internet.

Liam had gone for the nondescript look. Hooded sweatshirt, pair of jeans, sneakers—just a college kid checking out Chinatown. There were some roadblocks that blocked off the back roads so that people wouldn't go back there, but it took no more than ducking underneath to get past them. No one said a thing to him, if anyone even saw him slipping past the barrier at all.

He picked out the back door of one of the shops he'd seen beforehand, one which had more than just cheap trinkets. He wasn't going to make good money on stealing finger traps and fortune cookies. Liam tried the door, and with a bit of luck, it swung open, left unlocked. Perfect.

The back room was full of an assortment of things; some bamboo stuff, a couple of rolled-up wall scrolls, porcelain incense burners. Hmm...maybe he should get something for Allie, he thought. He picked up a small teapot, then set it back down. He'd just have to leave out how he got it when he gave it to her.

While he shuffled through a few varnished wooden boxes with gold-painted trim, a tiny white worm dangled on a translucent thread of silk from the rafters above him. The worm paused, bobbed up and down, then dropped from the air, plummeting a few feet to land without incident on the back of his shoulder. It began to descend in slow undulations along his shirt and toward his legs.

Liam pulled open the bag he was carrying and stuffed what small items could fit into it; things that wouldn't immediately seem missing, but would still get him a good price on the internet. He'd hit stores like this a few times before, so he had a pretty good eye for what things would sell.

The worm hung onto the hem of his pant leg. It adjusted itself, clinging to the very bottom of his jeans, and it sunk its tiny jaws into the fabric. Each bite drove it forward; as it ate the denim, it grew more energetic, and moved faster than its initial lazy inching. The worm left behind a strand of silk in its path as it wrapped around his legs.

Liam turned to leave, raised one foot, and slammed into the floor hard. His nose was smarting and his brow ached badly. He could taste a little bit of blood. Yep, his lip was split too. He pushed his arms against the ground, got ready to push himself up, and toppled onto his side. His heels were being held tightly together.

"What the hell," he hissed as quietly as possible.

Liam kicked roughly with both feet, trying to scrape his legs' bindings against the floor. He pushed himself up on one arm to look at what it was. The silk wrappings shimmered slightly in the light, wrapping his legs together at the ankles and reaching nearly up to his knees. The silk was right against his skin. How the hell—?

The silkworm was looping around quickly, laying down silk as quickly as it was gobbling up his jeans. He stared, open-mouthed, confused at what he was seeing for the first few seconds before anger and frustration set in.

"Get off!" he whispered hastily.

 

Liam grabbed at the silkworm, but when it proved too fast for him, he tried to break the silk which now reached halfway up his thighs. That proved just as futile. He was running out of options here. He didn't see anything sharp he could use to cut it—maybe he could hop to safety? He wiggled over toward one of the shelves, then took a moment to compose himself before trying to lift himself to his feet.

He reached out, but his arm didn't move. He wiggled his shoulders and dug his wrist against the silk straps now wrapped around his waist. His cotton sweatshirt was just as appetizing to the worm as everything else he wore, Liam realized, at the same time as he realized he was naked underneath the silk; the worm had eaten straight through his underwear, too. This just got worse and worse, didn't it?

"Fuck off you stupid fucking worm!" he shouted. He couldn't keep quiet any longer. Liam wriggled his confined body, trying to find an angle at which to lie where he could squish the damn thing.

His wiggling didn't help. If anything, the silkworm was getting agitated, and it was wrapping faster and faster. His arms were soon bound up to his elbows and squeezed against his sides. The silk wrapped him so tightly that he could barely even thrash side to side. His shoulders disappeared under smooth silk, encasing him all the way up to the very top of his neck.

Liam cursed and struggled, but he couldn't get his weight back under his feet. He was stuck on the ground while the silkworm inched back down across his silk-bound form and began to eat away at the fabric of his shoes, as a final insult to all of his struggles.

Shit, he thought, hearing footsteps—they were quite loud, down against the floorboards. He began to scoot along the ground, hoping to get himself behind a shelf, or somewhere out of sight before someone found him.

"Who's there!?" someone shouted as the door to the back room slammed open.

The voice was female, in a rather proper sort of English that nonetheless had a sprinkling of Chinese accent hidden among the vowels.

"I know you're here...trespasser," she spat. Or it sounded like she did, at least. Liam couldn't see her to tell if she really had spat—he was huddled up into a ball behind a box of bamboo torches. Maybe she would think he'd left...?

He heard a rustling, and the zip of a bag being opened. The bag he'd stuffed all the stuff he was going to steal into. "Fuck my life," Liam mouthed before a powerful paw reached down, grabbing the silk around his neck like a collar and hoisting him up to his feet.

He was staring up into the face of a tigress taller than he was, middle-aged by the looks of it, and able to kick his ass by the looks of her biceps. She was dressed in a fairly conservative blue silk dress with silver flowers as embroidered trim along the hem. She seemed to find something funny after a moment, but her smile only unsettled Liam.

 

The matronly tigress plucked the silkworm off of his shoulder, letting it crawl along her finger.

"A burglar caught red handed," she said while he tried to balance on his silk-wrapped feet. "Anything to say for yourself?"

"How about let me out of this stuff? I get the message, lady," Liam said, less apologetically than he could have.

"You have nothing good to say, so you should say nothing at all," she said.

The tigress placed her claw on top of Liam's lips, holding them shut, and let the silkworm climb back onto his body for a few quick loops. The worm wrapped silk around his mouth, making it impossible for him to open his lips.

Angry, muffled shouting accompanied his rough thrashing. His body wiggled, rather poetically, like a worm as the tigress dragged him into another back room; this room appeared to be more painter's workshop than storage space. Despite his struggling, the tigress held onto him with just one hand. She plopped him down onto a stool. His desperate thrashing brought him falling to the ground again and the tiger patiently picked him up and placed him back on the stool. Liam's muscles ached and he took deep, gasping breaths through his nose. He didn't have the strength to keep fighting. For now, at least.

"Now, if you've finished, we can begin," the tigress said, setting a few small jars of paint on a nearby table and producing a thin-tipped brush.

Liam shouted some things beneath his bound-up lips. They were mostly unintelligible insults anyway, so the tigress wasn't missing much.

The tigress dipped her brush into the red ink, then reached out and, with her thumb and forefinger on his chin, held Liam still. Her command of the body frightened him a little. It reminded him that she could probably snap his neck if she wanted to, instead of doing whatever freaky arts and crafts thing she had planned.

With two strokes of the brush, the tigress painted a pair of thick red lips over Liam's mouth. The smaller cat's cheeks began to grow warm. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. It felt as if his muzzle was being tugged and pushed by the silk itself. Red ink seeped through the threads and into his lips and they slowly swelled against the silk, beginning to create the contour of thicker lips even through the tight bonds.

"My name is Yue, but you should call me Aunt Yue," she told Liam.

Out of spite, Liam meant to mumble something that could have been 'fuck you, Yue' if his mouth wasn't bound shut. His brain, in a jolt of instinctual propriety, stuck 'Aunt' in there to prevent offending her. Not that he was intelligible anyway.

"I expect you to show proper respect for your elders," Yue said. The handle of her brush struck him between his eyes and he blinked angrily.

She dabbed her paintbrush into the water, carefully washing away the red. She took a thick dab of black paint, then leaned in close to Liam's eyes. He struggled and blinked and twitched while she tugged his eyelids shut. Yue gently traced out what amounted to eyeliner around his eyes, neatly curled with a small twist in her stroke at the corners, and with a few extra dabs, thickened his eyelashes as well.

Liam's strikingly feminine eyes blinked open when she removed her fingers. He flinched slightly, head bobbing a little as if he was about to shout something, but...none of the profanity he wanted was coming to his lips, which got him even more frustrated. Each time his mind wanted to fill in a curse word, his train of thought stopped and he had to start at the beginning.

What the h—

His eyes grew subtly larger, holding an inviting glitter in their more vibrant green irises.

What are you f—

The silk squeezed him tightly enough that when his waist began to give way, when both the faint bit of a belly and the light abs that it covered dissolved away into smooth curves, the silk remained snug against his skin, wrapped around his slender waist.

What are you doing to me you c—

The smooth fabric rubbed against his body in his struggling. With each rub, the soft strands drew more of the firmness and hardness from his form. A body suited for running from security guards and hopping fences was becoming a body more suited for display and admiration. And yet, even delicate and slender, he was still bound up tightly in the silk.

What are you doing to me? Let me go right this fff—

"Slouching does not look good at all. Sit up straight, dear," the tigress said. There was a tone of casual command in her voice, as if she knew she could order Liam around, like she thought—Liam's irritated thoughts were interrupted by his sudden shuffling, trying to get into a position with good posture without falling off the stool again.

With back straight and feet flat, Liam's heavier chest and broader hips were on clear display, even if he couldn't see them all that well himself. His anger was draining out of him. The tugging at his mouth hadn't let up. The painted red lips on the silk gag pushed outward into a pout thanks to the real lips beneath.

He knew something was wrong, and yet he couldn't get angry about it. It was only making him more worried about what could be wrong. Aunt Yue was messing with his head, and he had to get away from that old b—he had to get away from her!

Another brushful of black. Yue's paws cradled his chin as the brush touched gently in the center of his forehead.

"Stop squirming, or you might smudge," Yue told him.

Liam stopped wriggling his head and instead stared forward, holding still.

Hypnosis, it had to be, Liam thought. How had she done it though? Probably some crazy pressure point thing. Had to be.

Yue drew her brush down in symmetric strokes on either side of his face, making long, curling stripes that were thinner and more elaborate than his own subtle tabby stripes. The pigment sunk into his fur, down into the roots, and spread beyond just where her brush touched—dark stripes were running along his back and down his arms, hidden by the silk. Curls of black etched across his fur in strokes as delicately painted as any brushstroke of Yue's. His tail, wrapped up between his legs, bristled and thickened as the stripes circled down along its length.

The shift in coat also brought a shift in his frame. He could feel it, some of the bulkiness he had lost returning, but not in the same way. His body was taller, shoulders broader, paws larger...hips wider...chest heavier. His heavily made-up eyes darted down to the pair of breasts, encased in the silk still but unmistakably jutting from his chest.

A pair of scissors dragged against her cheek and snipped away the silk gag. Thick, plump, glossy red lips snapped shut in a fierce pout.

"I...I am not a woman! What are you doing?" Liam gasped. The voice that left his lips had been softened, all the rough edges rounded off, and his mouth had to struggle just a little to form the proper sounds.

"You must be tired from your trip, dear. You aren't making sense," Yue told him gently.

Liam's mouth opened, and then closed again. There was still...something between his legs, right? He tried to rub his thighs together, but he felt nothing. There was just nothing there. N-no! Aunt Yue was turning him into a woman! He bounced his soft ass on the chair, trying to get up onto his feet, or at least to twist away from Yue's brush.

"Sit still, dear, so I can do your hair," Yue asked, and Liam's ass was riveted to the stool. Liam's brow furrowed. What had she been so worried about? No, no, no, it was wrong. Aunt Yue was doing something to him. None of these thoughts were hers. His! The freshly painted tigress scrunched her nose and closed her eyes tightly in concentration. Remember, damn it. You've got a girlfriend, he told himself, and you should have a dick, and...and....

"Just like back home, yes?" Aunt Yue asked.

"Oh, yes pleese," Liam said, aware of how the word had gotten twisted on her tongue. Her thoughts were scattered again; it seemed to happen every time her Aunt Yue talked. The fact that she was a woman, and steadily developing a curvaceous figure, no longer seemed to press on her mind. But she was almost certain she wasn't from China, despite what her voice seemed to be saying. She'd lived here all her life. Her mom and dad were a calico and a tabby. She wasn't a tigress, and she wasn't Chinese.

"Aunt Yue? Ai think ai need to go to bed. No feeling so good," Liam...Ling said, aiming her best pout and kitten eyes at Yue.

"Sorry dear, but there's quite a lot of work to do tonight," Yue said.

The older tigress drew her brush along the top of Ling's head, and the dark paint seeped into her hair. Black color poured out of her roots down to the very tips, then continued moving down. Her hair was growing rapidly, an inky black and just as glossy, passing her chin and parting over her shoulders. Her bangs were cut to an even length above her eyes, and the rest of her hair plunged down in silky smooth sheets, right over the actual silk that still bound her. She didn't really find the will to care about being tied up any more. She had her very identity to worry about.

Ling's lips quivered. They hadn't ceased their growth, and they were heading straight into bee-stung territory with a little gap right in the center where they were too pouty to close. The faint outlines of her nipples were just barely visible against the tight silk. She thought that her breasts and ass might burst through the silk wrappings. Back in her village she'd always been the prettiest girl. She had thought that would change here, but she had been getting plenty of stares since she came to the States.

Ling blinked and pouted in frustration. No, she wasn't from China! She'd lived here her whole life, she was fairly sure. And her parents, they were...they weren't even tigers...? But that was ridiculous, because she knew her parents were both tigers. Just like Aunt Yue. The will to fight had been squeezed out of her, worn down to nothing. It was all she could do to accept the life that was so clear and vivid in her mind. Of course she was the prettiest girl in her village. Of course she had come to America to live with her aunt. As her mind grew shallower, it was easy to believe what was so obviously true.

"I asked Ba Sheng if he would let you work at his restaurant tonight. If you do well during the rush, he'd be more than willing to give you a permanent job," Yue told her while she cleaned the black paint off her brush.

"Aunt Yue, ai have not wohked in resstront befoh," Ling whined softly. Her beautiful, lilting voice was thickening its accent as years of speaking English were washed from her mind.

"Yes, but even a delicate flower needs the strength to hold itself up," Yue told her. Ling was a bit jealous of her aunt's schooling. Her mother told her that when she was young, Yue had a special tutor from London to teach her English. Ling had always been a little behind in all her classes, relying on her beauty and grace more than her mind. Why bother to learn when you could pout and flirt your way through?

Ling sulked quietly at the news that she would be working on her feet, while Yue painted in broad red strokes over the young tigress's heavy bosom and down along her taut stomach. The red paint bled across the silk, tinting every last inch of the taut wrappings a deep, vibrant red that matched the lipstick on Ling's plump lips.

Yue washed the red off of her paintbrush and set it aside, bringing out a finer brush for the golden paint. She was meticulous and skilled, painting in a detailed embroidery for what was shaping into a dress. Around Ling's neck and down along right shoulder, down the right side where it fastened, and along the split that began around Ling's hips on both sides, allowing her to show off some of her figure and giving her legs the freedom to move. Up along the left side, from the bottom of the dress near her ankles up to the top of her chest, was an embroidered golden dragon amid small, curly clouds. As a finishing touch to her dress, Yue painted a small sliver between her breasts; the silk opened up, revealing a teasing glimpse at creamy-furred cleavage.

The silk that had bound her arms now formed into gloves, finished off with the addition of some embroidery courtesy of Yue's brush. They reached from the tips of her fingers all the way to the middle of her upper arms and were the same sleek, shimmering silk as her dress.

"Here, have a look at your dress," Yue suggested, knowing the shallow young tigress would cheer up with a chance to admire herself in new clothes. She helped Ling up to her feet, and guided the daintily-stepping tigress over to a full-length mirror.

<"Oh my! My chest, and—my lips look fantastic! Thank you, Aunt Yue!"> Ling gasped, speaking completely in Chinese without a second thought. Her fingers graced her mouth and grazed her lips, brushed against her chest and hoisted her breasts a little higher and rubbed slowly along her ass. Her thick striped tail flicked from side to side behind her.

"In English, dear?" Yue said. Ling wasn't going to get better if she didn't practice.

"Oh! Sohree. Tankh yoo," she said, placing her hands on her thighs and bowing her head toward her aunt.

"Come on, you should have been at Ba Sheng's restaurant a half hour ago," Yue said, nodding to her niece, who took a few more longing looks in the mirror before following her aunt. Ling stuck her paws into a pair of wedge heels sitting by the door, then followed her aunt into the front of the shop, and from there out into the throng of people here for the festivities.

Yue kept a hand on Ling's arm—not because she was thick enough to get lost, but because she was flirty enough to start giggling and waving at the people who stopped and stared longingly at the busty tigress bouncing away through the crowd.

At the restaurant, Ling stood back and let her aunt talk to Ba Sheng, the horse in the tidy business suit. Yue hadn't been entirely truthful when saying that that she'd asked Sheng to let Ling work there—she was asking him now, and not exactly telling the truth a few more times in the process.

"She's very eager to work, I assure you," Yue told her. "She used to serve rice back home."

Sheng pursed his lips. "Fine. We're understaffed any way. As long as she can take orders in English," he said, trailing off and looking expectantly at Ling, who was smiling and batting her eyes at one of the waiters.

Ling realized they'd both gone quiet, and turned to look at Sheng, then at Yue who was looking over Sheng's shoulder, giving her a fierce look.

"Ai can take ordah. Wha' yoo wan drink wih dat?" Ling said in her best, but still horribly broken English. <"Like that, Mister Ba?"> she added, and finished it off with a poutingly cute smile.

It was probably the cute smile that made Sheng's expression soften. He sighed and nodded. "Okay, she's got the job. If, and that's if, she does well tonight. Come on, I'll show you how things work," Sheng said, turning from Yue to Ling.

Ling flashed another smile back at her aunt, waving at her as she followed Sheng back into the back.

Yue had a feeling that if she waited an hour or two, she could find Ling and one of the busboys tucked away behind the restaurant 'on break'. She wasn't going to ruin her niece's fun, though. Ling would have to learn to control her urges without someone watching over her shoulder.

Yue made her way into the crowded maze of people outside. She shouldn't leave her shop empty for too long, she thought to herself. She didn't want to have to deal with raising two airheaded young nieces at once.