DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS HEREIN ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. I do not condone any abuse of any kind IRL, and everything herein is just fantasy. Do not attempt to re-enact anything you read here.
All BDSM activities should be Safe, Sane and Consensual. What I describe in my stories is varying degrees of abuse which make for wonderful fantasies, but would in reality be awful.
To quote the wonderful Gigglinggoblin: Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story!
If you feel inclined, please get in touch! I'd love to talk about my writing or any related kink stuff! Here on Literotica you can use "Contact", "Send Private Feedback", or leave a comment!
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Summary: A guy escapes from a confined walled city to explore the world that was abandoned years ago. What will he find? Monstergirls. Lots of em
Contains: F/fm, monstergirls, gentle femdom, femdom, bondage, lots of tickling, milking, tease and denial, edging.
DARK THEMES: Bad-ends aka permanent/semi-permanent slavery or capture, semi-creepy monstergirls.
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[This chapter is inspired in part by a writer long since lost to time, wherever they are I hope they are well. This is a continuation of Chapter 5's Bad End, for continuity's sake!]
It had been eight days since Mommy- no, the bird woman, had captured him. Or rather, since he had fallen into her nest... her trap.
In that time, Rick had been subjected to a seemingly endless cycle of being breastfed, tickled, cuddled, and milked to mind-bending orgasms. His entire body was now so unfathomanly sensitive that if he strayed from within her protective... or rather, entrapping wings, the feathers of the nest would swiftly overwhelm his senses, sending him into a mix of erotic euphoria and ticklish hysteria.
Even so, whenever she shifted her body, even slightly, her feathers would ever so delicately trace across his naked, vulnerable body. It rarely woke him, so utterly exhausted was he from her constant maternal attentions, but it had the effect of ensuring even in his sleep he was under constant ticklish assault, and his dreams - or nightmares - never strayed far from the living nightmare of the nest he now inhabited.
Rick may yet have attempted escape, despite the ticklish ordeal it would have involved, but whenever she wasn't in the nest - where her attention would inevitably be fully upon him - he was bound in those soft, spongy vines. Even when he slept within her wings, she usually kept a leash around his neck, wrist or ankle, which was connected to her own. If he strayed too far... she would be woken, and unerringly decide her baby boy was 'thirsty', his straining stomach be damned, or had 'too much energy' and needed to 'burn some off'. Thus he would either be forcibly breastfed by her shockingly thick nipple, milked to a toe-curling, eye-rolling orgasm, or tickled until he was utterly senseless. Usually all three at once - the price for attempting escape, and yet it was little different from his daily torments...
He shivered at the thought. Even once when he had shifted in his sleep and unintentionally woken her, she had simply smiled at his sleeping form, and taken it as an excuse to torture him. He had awoken to the feeling of being entrapped within her thick limbs, confusing it for a motherly cuddle before the teasing torture began all over again.
Tonight, though, he was not yet asleep. The moon shone down into the nest, gently illuminating the feathery cage that had become his home. He had no intention of risking escape that night, despite the urge to be free still burning within him. That urge had been slightly dimmed by the fogginess of his mind, though, as well as some emotions he was starting to feel that the rebellious side of him wasn't willing to admit existed.
Rick stared at... her. The massive woman whose pink wings kept him safe... but also trapped. Her soft, kind face was so endearing, yet he knew how quickly her gentle smile could twist, become placid, at the slightest sign of his disobedience. Yet... she cared for him. It was clear despite everything, she obviously did... love him. He stared into those massive breasts of hers, never too far away, always looming with their creamy promise... His heart beat a little faster.
He wouldn't be escaping tonight. No, he instead would risk something far less brave, even if the consequences for being caught might have been just as dire...
Rick pushed his hand through the embrace of her feathery wings, and winced, choking back laughter as his sensitive wrists and forearms were subjected to her ticklish vice. Down he plunged his arm into the ticklish morass of her feathery bedding, and as her wings traced further and further up his arm as a result, the harder and harder it became to keep his laughter in check.
He physically clamped a hand over his own throat to strangle any cry, and winced at what was coming... fishing his hand around, he swirled his arm through the feathers, and felt for his prize. Tears flowed down his cheeks as his overly-sensitive armpit raked across her ticklish feathers again and again, and he felt the leash around his neck - connected to her wrist - give a slight tug.
Forcing himself to be still for a moment, he summoned the last reserves of his mental strength, biting his lip to try to quench the ticklish sensations threatening to erase any senses he had remaining. For a moment his fingers grazed something that wasn't feathers or branches, and he honed in, feeling around, until he retrieved it. Now, carefully, he pulled it out... sliding it delicately between her feathers, and brought it to rest upon his chest.
Slowly, nervously, he turned to check that Mommy... his captor... was still sleeping. Half expecting the cold piercing blue to meet him, he shuddered out a sigh of relief as he tried to relax himself - her eyes were closed. She was still asleep.
He looked upon his prize. A small victory that kept the hope of his eventual escape alive. His book had remained hidden under the feathers all this time. He had a few days ago by chance felt his foot kick against it while being tickled half to death by his Mommy... his... motherly captor.
The light of the moon was more than sufficient to read by, and he cautiously, silently, turned the pages. This was why he had left the city, after all. These images. For a moment he cast his mind back to those fleeting days of freedom he had known, walking, exploring...
Exploring what? The question came unbidden from a voice in his head that, slowly, had been growing louder since his capture.
Exploring what? The question came again. Ruins? Empty buildings devoid of anything of value or interest?
He turned the page. A 'Beach Resort'. Men and women... all half naked, lying on sand, next to... it must be the ocean. Massive stretches of water lit by the sun. His eyes rested on a woman in a purple swimsuit, beautiful... He would never see the ocean. Or other people.
So? The voice asked. You left the city for a reason. Now you have Mommy. She's all you need.
Biting his tongue to drive the voice away, he flipped a few pages forward.
A 'Theme Park'. So much colour... and strange buildings. Everyone was smiling. What had it been used for? He read on. Fun, games... enjoyment... relaxation. The chapter was called 'Recreation', so it made sense. These were all the places people went to have fun before.
Before... what? Before some unknown thing forced them to live in walled cities.
