A World of Delights (F/m) (minigts, size comparison, femdom, tickling)

[mrwriterfromd]

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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!

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.

*****

Life in a cage is still life. Or so he had been told when he would question the world, as young men were wont to do. When the world was opening in front of him at last, moving out on his own, looking at jobs, a nagging feeling from his youth was now rising like a heat around the collar.

The feeling of being trapped.

That cloying, sickly, sticky feeling that something has a hand around your neck. Trapped, and knowing there was no escape.

When Rick looked out at the town he lived in it was easy to let your eyes glaze over if you ever looked too closely at the horizon, to simply ignore the deep grey military cement bulwark which separated his life from the world outside. Houses gave way to a no man's land, from which arose the wall which surrounded their town and kept the world away, and kept him away from the world.

It wasn't exactly taboo to mention it, but nobody did regardless, and he could well understand why now that he was older. Like casually bringing up a tragedy, but one that never ended, as that wall served to remind them all. The world had been lost to them. All that was left of the world was that which survived within the walls, islands of normalcy that dotted a landscape overrun by...

He tried not to think about it. Largely because he didn't know how that sentence ended. What was outside was more or less left unsaid and unthought. In old books he'd seen pictures of the oceans, boats and more. His college library had kept some until they had been “bought by a private collector”, more likely confiscated to stop anyone from remembering how things were before, but he'd managed to steal one in time.

As he sat on a bench, sun blazing down, on the roof of his new living quarters, he tried to angle the book in ways that would let him see past the edges of the images. Anything to see even a fraction more of the world he would never know. A world that was gone.

He peered over the top of the book, and there in the distance the grey walls lay. For a moment he craned his head up, here on the roof which was constructed to be low enough to not allow any chance of it, and tried to see anything over the edges of the wall. It was, of course, all for nought.

Naivete warred with curiosity and a lifetime of unspoken warnings. It was like discovering you were too late to a party you had no chance of attending. The world had been robbed from him before he had a chance to see it. Time had landed like a gavel, separating his life from the lives of billions before, a judgement passed down that he would grow up in this cage.

“What's that?”

Rick did an excellent impression of someone with something to hide by acting as naturally as he could, half-dropping the book before stumbling to his feet.

“Nothing,” he lied, truthfully.

“Lost in your own world again, huh?” The girl he half-knew at college and fully knew now as Jessica tittered, hands crossed in front of her as she leaned over. Even if he hadn't been sat down she still would have been leaning over him, a few inches taller and carrying herself with a lot more confidence.

“Not my world...” he muttered, and put the book down next to him.

Jessica had been on the periphery of his social circle since his final year of study. Occasionally at a party he would see her, or she would see him, but only really when the two circles overlapped. Now, however, he had a job offer at the same company she had begun working for halfway through her degree, and was living in the same building.

“Want to talk about it?” she offered innocently, but increasingly he had begun to suspect her intentions as anything but. This was punctuated when she sat down next to him and put a hand on top of his, on top of the book.

She always found an excuse to be in the hallway when he got back, or was going to the same place he was. A few shy discussions and snuck kisses had happened here and there. Rick would have been lying to say he didn't enjoy the attention. She was nice. Usually. And when she wasn't, he might have admitted he didn't mind that mischievous side either.

He had suspected that she had suspected what she suspected for some time.

“You remember what Dr Pross said right? Everybody goes through this.”

He knew she was right, but as ever, that didn't change how he felt.

“Did you?”

“Yeah. I have family over...” for a moment she paused, looking at the wall for the first time as if she had been directly avoiding doing so, “there. That way, I think. A few miles.”

Rick looked, following her finger, after spending a little too long lingering on her and her breasts which had been distracting him from the moment he'd first seen her in class.

“Might as well be on the moon,” he mused, and then shook his head, “sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

“It's okay. I've accepted I'll probably never meet them. Yeah, it's sad, but there's nothing I can do about it. That's the point - I came to terms with it. I went through it, just as you are now.”

She had sat down next to him on the bench now, and whereas normally he would have found this a little more intimate than he was comfortable with, especially given the topic of discussion, he was perhaps a little too downtrodden to care... or maybe just needed someone.

“You're not happy, are you Rick?”

He thought about an answer but didn't say it, just staring down at the roof below.

“All through college you were the guy who asked questions, got in trouble, and now you learn when to keep your mouth shut?”

He smiled a little at that, but shook his head.

“I'm a prisoner, Jessica. We all are.”

“Are we?” she asked, pointedly, which shook him from his morose for a moment, “They had prisons back in the old days too you know. They still built walls to keep monsters locked inside. They still separated the world.”

“Yeah, but back then the walls were facing inwards...”

For a while they just sat, not quite enjoying each other's company, but definitely more comfortable than being alone. She put her head against his after a time, and he sank into her shoulder, not solely out of obligation.

“Let me do something for you,” she said, at last, as they watched the sun waning in the sky.

At first he hadn't noticed she had spoke. It was when the feeling of her body vibrating with her voice registered that he took account of it.

“Sorry?” he asked, having only half heard her.

Her hand moved across his lap, and he felt a set of lips on his ear.

“Let me do something for you,” she said again, quieter, and yet it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He froze, unsure what to say.

“There's nothing in this book that can change what's right in front of you,” she said, as her hand drifted straight over his lap, and grabbed it from his side.

“W-what?” he stuttered, understandably confused.

“Let me get rid of it,” she said simply, and looked him dead in the eye.

He was silent, facing her, but his eyes on the book in her hand.

“You're never going to be happy as long as your mind is stuck wondering what's outside the wall.”

She said it. Not just mentioning the wall. She had pretty much summed up his life in a sentence. He suddenly felt quite small.

Slowly, her one hand slid the book further and further towards her, as her other moved to replace the former on his lap.

“B... but-”

“Did looking in that book make you happy?” she asked bluntly.

“No,” he admitted at last.

“Then let me get rid of it, and I'll show you something that will make you a lot happier,” she offered with an impish grin.

He felt like the hand tickling its way across his jeans was around his heart instead, gently but firmly, as if holding a leash. Or, perhaps, offering one.

The book slid further, and he struggled to keep his eyes on it, and off her.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll be happy to oblige,” she said, her tongue caught slightly between her teeth as she pulled it ever closer to herself.

“W... well...” Rick mutely sputtered, as her face won out for his attention.

“Hmmm?” she asked amusedly, delicately tracing the now hardening cock she could feel, straining to be freed of its confinement in place of its owner.

“Yeah,” he offered quietly.

Her hand clasped around the outline of his dick rewardingly, even as she pulled his other most prized possession away.

“Say it nice and clearly for me,” she cooed, grinning, as her lips came closer to his.

“Get rid of it,” he uttered, defeatedly, and slumped, in the process falling into her enrapture.

“Good boy,” she spoke into his mouth as she closed the distance.

The rooftops were rarely used, let alone in a mostly empty building like theirs. They could be assured of some privacy, but decided to take it to the bedroom regardless. Hers to be precise. He hadn't been in her quarters before, but didn't get much of a chance to see it as, after being led by the hand he was pulled into another kiss which escorted him to the bed.

He wasn't entirely unversed in the arts, but Jessica had a far firmer grasp of the finer details, evidently. She took great delight in slowly lifting his shirt over his head, and toying with his temporary blindness, as they undressed.

“I'm glad you listened,” she giggled, and ran a hand down his chest.

“So am I,” he smiled, genuinely, for the first time in years.

With a delicate but firm hand, which he was quickly getting used to the feeling of, she pressed his shoulders down into the bed as she used that same firm delicacy to grasp his now freed erection.

“Now you just relax and let me take care of this, okay?” she said sweetly, before lying down next to him.

“B-” was all he got out before a fingertip silenced him.

“Uh uh, you already said you'd let me take care of things, right? No more out of you. All I want to hear from you is happy sounds, got it?”

She slid up the bed, placing a pillow behind him that she took the opportunity to rest on, and brought her chest directly into his view.

“Good boys get rewards,” she said softly, running her fingers through his hair even as her other hand began to deftly work his cock, leaving his chest thrumming with pleasure, “and I'm very proud of you.”

Jessica then buried his face in her soft shirt covered chest, as he had been dying to do for years, and began to stroke him in earnest. Smiling at the delighted moans this elicited from her captive, she jostled her chest slightly, soft flesh lapping against his face ever so slightly.

“I think I know just how to cheer up a guy like you,” she whispered into her tits, sure that they would pass on the message to the guy they held confined.

Making a ring with her finger and thumb, she began to jerk his cock faster, ensuring to lovingly enclose the head each time. Soon he found the rhythm, and began thrusting his cock into her grip, at which she giggled, shaking her chest around his head.

“Now now, not too fast,” she admonished, and slowed down, keeping her strokes just out of time with his thrusts.

When his legs shifted, electric pleasure coursing through him, she took the opportunity to slip one leg under his, and clasp another on top of them.

“That's better, now, where was I...” she mused, and began to stroke again, faster.

This time, however, with the weight of her leg atop his thighs he found he could barely thrust his hips at all. A muffled groan of frustration escaped her chest which she found delightfully amusing.

“There there, I told you I'd make you feel good,” she whispered, panting slightly from a mix of arousal and exertion, “and I will.”

Her hand which had been lovingly caressing his hair, and keeping him firmly pinned into her breasts, now moved its way down his body, trailing along his shoulder and eliciting a powerful jump as it played across his waist. At last, her fingers found his balls, and cradled them lovingly.

“All those negative thoughts, I want you to let them melt down into nothing, and we'll milk them out of you...” she whispered, seemingly uncaring whether he could hear it over his own muffled breathing.

“What a good boy...” she smiled wickedly, before releasing her leg clamp at last, and working her hand in a flurry.

“Cum for me,” she cooed, silken words of promise working their way down into her cleavage and into very welcoming ears, “cum for me.”

She laughed with surprise as he rose up off the bed with the desire to buck, to rut, to thrust into her hand.

“That's it! Cum for me! Cum for me and stop worrying about the world,” she soothed, tightening her grip as she did so, “I'll be your world from now on.”

At that, a hot jet of cum blasted up her forearm, and she slowed her strokes to an even firm pace, milking the maximum pleasure from him that she could. A molten load now spattering across her fair skin.

“That's it, thaaaat's it...” she comforted, holding him close.

Practically hyperventilating, he bucked up into her grip with increasingly stilted movements, until at last he collapsed onto her bed in a sheen of sweat.

For some time, they just lay together, until she at last got up to clean up. She again just left a finger on his lips when he tried to speak.

“You did enough today,” was all she said.

He spent the night there, eyes open, looking out of the window. In her arms, for the first time in a long time, things made a semblance of sense. Having someone just reach out and be willing to be there had, for the first time, given him a reason to re-evaluate.

What was it he hadn't found? Was it this? His mind raced against itself.

The moon rose at last, but did so only when it crested the horizon. A flat, towering wall that was their horizon. The rest of the world might as well have been up there, on the moon, he mused further.

What good did it do to be... whatever it was he was feeling. He couldn't change it. If he was stuck here, he might as well be happy. Rick didn't like thinking of it as “settling”. He was lucky. Luckier than he could have imagined a short day ago. He wasn't settling for her, he was settling for this. A gilded cage. She and he were both prisoners of it.

Or were they?

For a moment, his brow furrowed.

Was she trapped here? Or was she part of that trap? Was just being here enough to make you a part of it? By existing did you indelibly become an integral piece of the confinement? Were you culpable by association? Was he encouraging others to stay by staying as she just had?

It could have ended there. Rick could have ended his obsession there and then, and by all rights the world had given him a very good excuse to do so. However, it was wrong. What it was that was wrong, he wasn't sure, but something about everything was wrong. People weren't supposed to live like this. No matter how happy he was in that moment, that was a spin on the exercise wheel of his cage. The hard borders of existence were just as closed in as they had ever been. No matter how gilded the cage was, a cage it remained.

The book sat on the bench where it had been left, cool to the night air, and filled the gap in the bag he had packed. A letter left behind explained in no uncertain terms everything he wanted to say to the girl he would probably have told he loved some day.

Walls designed to keep things out, the common theory would go, serve equally well to keep things in. However, any architect could tell you otherwise. Indeed, everybody knew Rick wouldn't be the first person to leave. The powers that be were far more interested in keeping the world out than them in by anything other than suggestion. To a determined person, really, it was just a matter of trying.

He managed to get atop a truck as it rested among a dozen others, preparing to leave. A convoy to the neighbouring town. He made his way down into the well between the cabin and cargo, and removed a spare wheel, leaving it by the wall before climbing into the covering that had contained it.

Within an hour he was outside. He opened the bag, and braved the short jump to the ground below as the vehicles slowly trundled in column. As soon as he was on his feet he was running, and ignoring the shouts of people behind him. Ahead was a treeline separated from the wall by endless concrete. The undergrowth closed in tightly, and as he made it past the first few trees, he turned to look back, and couldn't even see the concrete floor.

He had done it. However, he might discover that the effort to erect walls usually comes from good reasoning, and had merely traded one cage for another.

 

[milagros317]

Very nice start. Looking forward to reading what comes next. 😀

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Can't believe the famous Milagros is reading a story I wrote! I bow.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 2

“Do not use alternative roads! Stick to mapped and maintained road networks only!”

The sign was a reminder to those who drove convoys between the walled settlements, Rick assumed. The few roads that were maintained between them were the only reliably safe paths. That said, however, Rick knew he couldn't afford to be seen. As such he had followed a turn off down a much older road, clearly from before the fall.

Rick's first few days outside of the walls he had, well he could admit to himself, scared. At several points he had found himself walking back towards the road, hoping to flag down a convoy and accept whatever punishment came his way. Each time, though, he had swallowed his fears and turned back. It was hard, but he kept reminding himself why he had left. This was real. Out here was the real world, and it was his birthright to see it. If he wanted to go home he could do so any time, he reasoned, but this was his one chance to see the world they had lost.

He was free, for the first time in his life, he repeated to himself again and again until he believed it.

He had by now memorised every picture, hell almost every word, of the book he had managed to keep safe all these years. Even so, perhaps out of comfort, or nerves, Rick kept looking to it for... something. Comfort? Guidance perhaps? Occasionally he would see something he recognized, but he was now seeing the old world for the first time outside of printed paper.

A sign with a number on it, a bit rusted over, loomed from the side of the road. He flipped through his book for a few minutes, sure he had seen something like this before on a “high way”. He tapped the picture and compared it. The sign in the book was round, and the number was different. Maybe it was a way to let people know where they were? Was this “Sector 300 M” perhaps?

Eyes on the page, he let his feet guide him down the road, occasionally letting his gaze flit up to compare what he saw to what he read. The first sign that something was amiss was when the old, battered paved road was no longer crunching under his footsteps. Indeed it had become much more muted, and for some reason walking had become much more taxing. As his eyes dropped down below the book to check, it was far too late. He was no longer standing on a road, but instead, an oddly uniform matted material stretched out in a wide circle around him, suspended over a massive hole. Thin, silvery, gossamer strands of it had quite thoroughly entangled his ankles by now. Unsure what to do, by the time he had settled on reaching down to tug at them and carefully make his way back to the road, they gave way almost immediately, and he felt his stomach in his throat as he fell into the darkness below.

Dozens if not hundreds of silvery wisps played across his body as he fell, and by the time his mind had caught up and he began to scream, he had already stopped falling altogether. He half-heartedly cut his scream of terror short, and stared up at the pinprick of light above him, which he realised was the hole he had fallen into. He tried to right himself, but realized the same strands which had arrested his descent had quite literally arrested him as well, entangling everything. Quite sticky, they tugged at his clothing incessantly with every tiny movement, as if trying to undress him. As he moved around, the sweet smell in there was growing stronger, and leaning closer he realised it was coming from the materials entangling him.

Trying not to panic, he managed to turn on the reading light atop his book, and manoeuvred it around to light up the space. It seemed to be a sinkhole, he reckoned, and rotated the book round as he peered into the darkness, his eyes slowly adjusting as, all of a sudden, the pinprick of light above him was sealed shut. Now in total darkness save for the lamp, he forced his eyes to focus and could make out the edges of the hole. It was only then, when he saw the way these strands connected to the edges of the wall, he became all too sure what they were. Not strings... but webs. Then, just at the edge of the light's cone, he could swear he saw something moving.

Suddenly quite certain he wanted to be free of the sticky webbing sealing him still, he tugged at it, trying each limb individually, then all at once, all to no avail. He had only really succeeded in, if anything, gathering more of the sticky fronds around himself and making his situation worse. Each one was strong enough he doubted he could break it, but collectively they may as well have been made of some high strength wire. Yet despite that, they felt soft and flexible, which only made it harder to gain any purchase on them. The wetness of the webs seemed to soak into his clothing, and skin, and everywhere it touched seemed to tingle in a way he wasn't quite comfortable with. Indeed, it was making every tiny scratch of his clothing feel far worse, and soon he began to itch. Why was he suddenly feeling so sensitive, he wondered confusedly.

Laughter, soft and sweet, pealed out from somewhere ahead of him, and he froze still, eyes peering into the shadows. The source of that laughter made itself apparent when two red eyes gleamed back at him. Now in a blind panic, he thrashed and contorted his body every which way, and began to slip free, not of his bonds, but of the clothing so caught up in them.

The laughter grew closer, and his thrashing grew still again, although this time because he was stunned to see the body that the glowing eyes belonged to. The head of a woman, quite beautiful even in the dim light, swam into the light as if surfacing from water. Her chest, however, kept revealing more and more of itself, as the largest pair of breasts he had ever seen kept rising and rising into his vision.

“It's been some time since I felt any stirring in this web,” she said softly, reaching out a finger to daintily pluck at a strand, which in turn tugged at his shirt, now thoroughly matted with webs.

Speechless, Rick simply stared in awe as her body was slowly revealed by the book's lamp which, settling from his prior thrashing, turned slowly round. Her breasts were, if anything, merely proportionate to her form. Thick, luscious, hips flowed naturally from her stomach which was almost entirely concealed by her awe-inducing bosom, but he gasped as his vision was drawn down. Expecting a monstrous, spider body, he was instead shocked to see her pliable, yielding thighs parting barely, just enough to make out a cushy cleft of flesh. Her pallid skin did nothing to detract from the utter embodiment of sex she represented.

Rick was understandably less terrified as the shadowy figure turned out not to be some monstrous spider coming to devour him, although had he known the irony of that thought he may have kept trying to escape, he tried to choke out a noise, but the fear that had choked his throat before had been swiftly replaced by something else.

“You didn't get hurt falling down all this way, did you?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned, and reached out to touch his arm.

“N-” was all he managed, before simply shaking his head – what little he could within his bonds – to signal his safety.

“Good, good...” she whispered, and ran a finger down his forearm, leaving a trail of that same wetness behind as she did, “I'd hate to see such a fine specimen hurt...”

His mind, once again slowed, finally caught up to the situation and managed to override his hormonal 20-something response, and choked out his first real words to this stranger. He tried to ask 'Who are you?' and 'Where am I?' but the heavenly figure leaning closer to him from the shadows scrambled his thoughts, and it came out as:

“Who am are where you?”

Tittering into the back of her other hand, she reached down with another and began to pull at some of the strings holding him, while another... it was only now he began to realise this woman, if she was a woman... had four arms. Her eyes were no longer glowing, but a red iris on black sclera marked her quite apart from human, as if the arms hadn't been a give away. The closer he got, the stronger that smell became, very sweet and cloying.

“You are in a web. I am the one who made it.” She stated simply, interpreting his questions well enough, yet not really giving him any answers.

As one of her hands rose up by his head, a silvery string following her fingertip, he watched as the light played off of it as his eyes followed her movement. Suddenly, he felt what remained of his panic begin to blossom once more.

“I uh... n-need to be um... going, I'm sorry,” he said, once again testing the strengths of the bonds around him, only to find that in the few short moments she had been there she had been reinforcing them quite thoroughly, and he now found it much harder to move at all.

“Going? Why, where would you go?” she asked sweetly, not even looking at him as she busied her hands around him, swiftly encircling him in a matted web of material, “I don't think you could climb all the way back up, could you? Anyway, I sealed the top again after you broke through. You'd never get through it, look how small you are after all!”

She tittered again at that, and he felt a cold chill run through him like sinking into water.

“Let's get a look at you...” she said softly, and snapped her fingers. The space suddenly lit up as blue, glowing mushrooms slowly lit up.

She took his book and, with seeming delicacy and care, set it aside, turning the light off for good. Now he was bathed in a soft, blue glow as she loomed back over, less well lit, yet her forboding, massive outline was much clearer in the dim radiance. She closed with him suddenly, and he felt her body press against his.

“Wait, st-” was all Rick got out, before a hand clamped over his mouth, and his eyes widened in fear.

“Now, now,” she soothed, and held a second hand to her mouth, finger on her lips, “I don't need to hear you speak. In fact... I'd much rather hear how you sound...”

With that, her third and fourth hands, in turn, snaked under his shirt and up his chest, while the other began to tug at his clothing's waistline. However, he was now back to frightened silence. Undeterred, she began to trace her fingertips down his chest, leaving slick moisture behind as she did, and his heart fluttered slightly at the sensation spreading from it. A slight moan escaped as he gradually exhaled through his nose, and a slight smile graced her features.

“Much better... but I'd rather hear that sound later... because that's not the sound I was looking for.” she added softly, before her fingertips curled, and with an almost imperceptible change, began to drag along his skin as the others dug into his sensitive waist, a wide grin spreading on her face.

Rick's eyes bugged out as, suddenly, ticklish sparks erupted from everywhere she touched. He groaned into her hand and squealed as he hadn't since he was a child. The sound delighted her, and she soon began to dance her fingers in earnest, playing him like a finely tuned instrument, just as she had the strands of her web. Instantly, he began to thrash and squirm what little he could in his bonds, desperately trying to escape those wriggling fingertips. The wetness, the dampness on the webs, it was suddenly all too obvious. It was making him more sensitive, whatever it was. There was no way he should feel this ticklish! He had to get away, had to-

Whatever coherent thoughts he had were abandoned as her third hand moved down to his shorts and, delightedly, began to dance across his crotch, eliciting an almost girlish squeal as the thin material offered almost no protection to his sensitive cock, swiftly hardening under her ministrations.

“There we go, that's it, such a giggly boy...” she cooed, and slowly moved closer, and closer.

Panicking, he soon became aware of her massive chest pressing into him, and as she flesh spilled out, began to cover more and more of him – although her arms seemed to have no trouble manoeuvring around and beneath them to work their way towards his ticklish skin. A rising tide of breasts soon threatened to engulf him, and he threw his head from side to side, gasping for air when she finally removed her hand... only to fall into a shrieking bout of laughter as her freed hand snaked its way into his armpit, his clothing now a shell being swiftly lifted free.

For her part, the woman merely grinned, eyes fixed on him as her breasts squished further up his neck, his chin, until finally his laughter was muffled as she smothered his face with her massive orbs.

“Such a cute face, but you sound even cuter trapped between my tits, cutie!”

Two hands were now curling beneath his vulnerable, outstretched arms, while the others were making merry work of undoing his shorts and pulling them down to expose his cock. They began to lovingly bathe it in that secreted substance of hers, which swiftly soaked in, and he was now awash with blinding euphoria as she began to use all ten free fingers to tickle his cock with abandon.

“My, my... already so sensitive. I don't think I've ever had a prey so susceptible to my venom, sweetie. Poor thing...” she cooed, while contrary to her mock sympathy, redoubled her efforts to drive him insane.

Fingertips fluttered over his nipple, while another hand braced its fingertips around his cockhead, thoroughly basting it while dancing merrily around it, paying special attention to just below the head, and leading him to chokingly sputter through his nose, which only barely allowed him any breath above her tremendous cleavage.

“I wonder just how sensitive you are... one way to find out!” she announced, and tugged his shoes free, before ever so slowly, inch by inch, sliding his socks off.

His eyes maddeningly tried to see anything past the breasts that now encompassed his vision, but apart from her red eyes and sweet smile, all he could see were two all-encompassing walls of titflesh. Then he felt it, two pairs of hands ever so gently running fingers down his soles. His breath caught in his throat at just how badly it tickled, before even her massive tits were not enough to muffle him entirely. Screaming in glee, he squirmed madly in her clutches as she cooed soft nothings to him, reassuring him even as she tortured him as no one ever had, as he had never thought was possible. Her fingers, now not so delicate, began to truly elicit ticklish agony from his poor exposed soles now, digging in, as if searching for each and every oh-so-sensitive nerve.

At this point, Rick was already a mess, his mind had no other thought but 'ESCAPE!' That, however, seemed impossible, as every mindless thrash, how little he could move, seemed to reinforce just how hopeless it was. Yet in a moment of sheer exertion, he felt his butt slip down as if falling between two mattresses, as his entangled shirt and shorts slipped away from his as-of-yet mostly unencumbered limbs. Suddenly, he was de-clothed, and lay just a few feet below on the cushioned ground realising he had only ever been a few inches in the air.

“Oops!” she giggled, and reached a hand down, as if a helpful gesture, but was more like a predator reaching into a hole for prey.

Without a word, he stood up, tangled webs tugging gently at his skin as he did. Rick just ran, naked, and grasped at the edges of a tunnel as he fled. Every touch, every hanging strand that grazed across his body, sent him into fits of ticklish sensitivity, but he pressed on. He took random turns, hoping to throw her off, but even if she hadn't known this network like the back of her hand, his constant squeals and giggles were like a neon beacon drawing her in.

“I can hear you, little one!” she said, with a voice no doubt intended to sound playful, but which to his mind was as frightening as it could have been.

He could feel her weight on the webs, vibrating them with every ponderous slow step she took, which were in stark contrast to the desperate effort Rick was having to make just to trudge through the sticky, cloying forest of oh-so-ticklish fronds that felt like a myriad of fingers tracing across his vulnerable body.

If anything, the more he touched the webs, the more sensitive he got. That gave him a very foreboding feeling. How much more sensitive would he become? Everything in here was coated in those sickly sweet smelling webs, and that cloying venom which even now was dripping onto him, being lathered onto him with every step.

Soon, his feet were on fire, each step was ticklish agony as the delicate gossamer webs traced across his soles. However, it was his cock giving him the most trouble. Rick struggled to put one foot in front of the other as his head swam, erotic visions flooding his mind, no doubt encouraged by the massive breasts which had so recently swallowed him whole and rewritten his mind's definition of lust.

At last, he could go no further, and collapsed against a webbed wall, feeling his hand wrap instinctively around his cock and begin stroking, panting needily, his cheeks flushed hot and red.

“Poor thing,” she said softly, “looks like you're all worked up. You could have gotten hurt running away like that...”

She loomed behind him, effortlessly, gracefully bringing her massive form into view as he backed up against the wall, unwittingly entangling himself once more.

“Not to worry, soon you'll never be moving again... or touching that cock of yours... I'll make sure of that...” she smiled, and her hands arrested his wrists, removing his hand from his cock. His scream echoed through the tunnels as he was plucked free and into her massive, waiting, bosomy prison.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 3

Face forced into her chest now, and not just gravity pulling their pendulous weight down over him, he struggled for breath as he felt her hands dance over his slight, naked form. He squealed in ticklish agony as fingertips traced over the globes of his ass, up his lower spine, the backs of his knees, under his arms, and more. Her hands were a blur, and seemed to know exactly where he was ticklish. Although, with that venom now coating his entire body, much thanks to her hands lathering it across him, everywhere was ticklish – and where had been ticklish before was now enough to make him see stars as she tickled and teased his overly-sensitive skin.

Suddenly, she flipped him around, and he looked down to see he was already half cocooned. His mouth was covered before he could let out another scream, his fitful giggles reduced to a muted, muffled groan as she hummed while she worked. Slowly, she rotated him again, and kissed him on the nose. His eyes were covered on the next pass, and now, blinded, he felt the webs get thicker, and thicker, as her venom soaked in more, and more. His heart raced as he felt the claustrophobia settle in. And his cock was, quite frankly, throbbing harder than it ever had in its silken prison.

Suddenly he felt himself held aloft, and they were moving again. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't see a thing, and he could barely move a millimetre in the thick cocoon. Rick groaned, trying to voice his concerns at all, but merely felt a slight pat on his head in response.

“Nearly there now,” she added, reassuringly, petting his cocooned head as if it were a tiny creature... which in her hands Rick supposed he was.

Suddenly, they stopped. With a gut wrenching flip, he felt himself hanging upright, and tried his best to move. The cocoon rocked ever so slightly, barely perceptible, and the woman barely even seemed to notice. That didn't bode well.

“Now, my dear, nothing else to distract us... let's get to really know each other,” she said soothingly, and he felt her hands slowly moving up and down his mummified form.

His arms were stretched up above him, as if hanging on to something, but the constriction around his wrists, just tight enough to be comfortable, was what truly kept him prostrated. Rick could immediately tell she knew exactly what she was doing, and a doomed feeling of certainty began to sink in. He gasped, however, as he felt the webs parting, and wondered if he might actually be allowed to go free. That hope was dashed, however, when he heard her breathy giggles as she merely began to allow strategic parts of his body be exposed.

Starting from the top, she exposed his neck and traced a finger down from his chin, his armpits and sides, and waistline too. His inner thighs were exposed and held parted just enough to allow her to reach between them, and his feet. Rick's ass felt the cool air against it, and he writhed in nervous anticipation... and a non-negligible dose of libidinous desire. At this point his sex drive was truly in overdrive.

“Now sweetie, time for the important part...” she cooed, and with a delicate finger, freed his trapped cock, and let his balls lie loose on the gossamer material, before creating a webbed pouch for them to rest in, which left them soaking in a steadily growing pool of venom.

“So pretty...” she cooed, and realized she was speaking directly to his cock as her breath tickled across it.

He panicked once more when he realized just how much even her breath tickled, and was terrified to wonder how sensitive he had become while trapped in this cocoon. How long had he been here? It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, and his sanity was already straining. How long was he going to be trapped here? And how badly would it tickle if he was kept here longer?

Rick didn't have to wait long to find out. Her tongue began to bathe his cock, and he shrieked into his webbed gag, nose flaring as he hyperventilated from just that teasing touch alone.

“If you thought the venom on my webs was strong... wait until you feel my mouth sweetie...” she whispered, and sunk his cock between her lips, until it was hilted in her hot, wet mouth.

As her tongue lavished it with caring caresses, he felt tiny pinpricks of tingling immediately, which only grew stronger the longer his cock was kept captive in her mouth. He felt, rather than heard, her giggles vibrate through his rock-stiff cock, trapped and at the mercy of her slathering attentions, as she began to recognize the signs of his own recognition of the danger.

Rick began straining with all his might to free himself, but merely succeeded in setting his cocoon swinging slightly back a forth, unwittingly plunging his cock ever so slightly into and out of her mouth in tiny swinging motions. Delightedly, she gave his cocoon a tiny push, and let his cock slip slightly from between her imprisoning lips, before lavishing it with a tongue-bath each time it was forced back between them by his momentum.

Groaning with unadulterated lust, his worries were soon overridden by the absolute primal need to cum. He could feel as his cock slipped in and out of her mouth as, little by little, he grew closer and closer to what was undoubtedly going to be the best orgasm of his life. For now, at least, he gave up on any pretense of wanting to escape. Right now, blind to all other senses, unable to see or hear or even think straight... all he wanted was to cum.

Just as he began to feel heat rising from his cock, and felt the tickling, itchy urge to cum rising in his cock, he felt rather than heard her laughter around his cock.

Her four hands each found a delicate spot, exposed from his cocoon, and got to work driving him insane. Her fingers scurried and toyed with expertise that was unnatural, and could only be the product of many lifetimes of tickling torture practice. She tickled along the underside of his foot, held taut by the webs expertly. She traced delicately up and down his thighs, spidering around his knees. She curled her fingers under his arms as if tickling the chin of a kitten, and traced around and under his neck, as if wanting to feel the vibrations of his all-but-silent laughter.

Suddenly his singular focus on cumming was disrupted, unable to focus, he felt his orgasm wilt under her merciless ticklish touch. Even as her tongue lapped under his cockhead, or ran in circles wildly around the rim of his cock, he found that no matter what he did, he could not bring himself to orgasm. Rick was totally at her mercy... and it was clear she had none.

“Oh your poor little thing... were you close? Did the mean spider lady do something to stop you cumming? Oh my... poor thing...” she cooed in mocking motherly tones, and let her lips tease at the tip of his cock as she spoke, not letting up even for a second with the physical torture, even when taking time to tease him verbally.

His animalistic screams were now audible, even through layers of sickly sweet smelling webs. As if trying to speak through his nose, he whined and grunted, desperate to put his agony into words, but denied even the opportunity to beg her for the mercy he was now sure she had no intentions of providing.

She would slow her tickling to the point where she was barely moving her fingers – although in his hyper-sensitive and horny state, even that was enough to send his body shivering with ticklish agony, like trapped and ticklish jelly – but it was always a trap. Every time he felt himself getting closer to orgasm, every time he thought her tickling was letting up just enough that his arousal might overcome it, she would wait until he was right on the cusp of the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life, before truly digging in, seeking to extract the maximum ticklish suffering possible. Her mouth, a truly devilish prison from which he both simultaneously would have done anything to free his prison from, and yet was doing everything in his power to thrust into with more and more desperation, felt like a boiling, roiling cavern within which her tongue was the warden of his imprisoned cock. It batted his cock from side to side playfully, her preternaturally prehensile tongue almost having a mind of its own. She would curl it around his cock like a serpent and stroke it, only to flutter the tip of her tongue just under his head, driving him wild with lust.

At last, she pursed her lips, and pulled back with a sickeningly wet pop. As bubbles of pre-cum and saliva mixed to dribble down her chin and onto her titanic breasts, she began to trace her fingertips along the underside of his cock.

“Well sweetie, I must say, you must be the most sensitive prey I've ever caught. Poor thing, you must be in such agony...” she mewled in a saccharine sweet tone of impish delight, “I bet you'd do anything to cum by now...”

For a while she just delighted herself, tickling his cock, and tracing the outline of his balls, bubbling away in a cauldron of venomous saturation.

“I know... I bet I know what you would love right now... is a nice, firm grip from my hand... jerking your cock...” she mused idly, while barely grazing his cock with her forefinger and thumb in a cruel parody of her words.

At that, Rick practically went berserk – the prospect of a truly satisfying, firm grip on his cock, a handjob right now sounded like the most beautiful prospect he could dream of.

“Only problem is...” she whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “if I did that, this little cock of yours would definitely cum... and then... oh my, you have no idea how ticklish you would be... if you think you're sensitive NOW...”

Her dark words chilled him to the bone, even as he thrusted feebly in his cocooned prison against her fingertip as it tickled directly under his head.

“Not to worry sweetie, I know just how to make sure that cock of yours won't cum...” she said soothingly, as she began to loop her fingers around the base of his cock, constricting it ever so slightly with a ring of webbing.

“There we are!” she delighted, and began to trace her fingers along his cock which, now tensed by the webbing cock-ring, was throbbing and thick, and if anything even more sensitive to her touch.

“Now there's no way you can cum... isn't that lovely, sweetie?” she asked, and he felt her breath on his cheek, hot and wet through the cocoon.

“Now I can do this...” she said conspiratorially, and began to slowly, delicately stroke his cock in her hand, “and no matter how much I do, you won't cum...”

Sobbing openly into his gag now, he felt his tears begin to well against the spongy material which dried his cheeks like a caring lover, when she was in fact as far away as could be from such as thing.

He felt her panting breath against his exposed neck as she lapped at his skin, tongue tracing up and down, and he jumped what little he could in his prison as she latched on to his neck. Waiting to feel a pair of fangs sink into him, he instead felt her tongue and lips smothering his sensitive skin in passionate kisses, which were doing nothing to help the all-encompassing need in his cock to cum at any cost.

Her fingers, at last, began to clasp around his cock in earnest, and he drooled in satisfaction at finally feeling what he had been straining to do, wrenching his hands in their mittened bonds in a desperate desire to touch himself again.

Rick groaned, screamed, cried and laughed all at once as he felt his fragile grip on his fraying sanity begin to wane. The sheer pleasure of her handjob was if anything all the more cathartic after the hours spent being tortured in the pleasurable hell of her hot, wet mouth.

However, the true hell became apparent when, reaching the absolute limit, he felt the webbing constrict tighter around the base of his cock as it throbbed, keeping him trapped eternally at the knife edge of an orgasm which threatened to entirely erase his mind with pleasure.

“Oh my little morsel, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to get a sweet little thing like you down here...” she said into his neck, cuddling him close as if holding a lover, all while her hand moved at a blur, milking his cock furiously despite it being kept chaste by her webs.

“Do you want to cum for me, sweetie? Would you like to cum? Hmmmm?” she asked, speaking directly into his ear, nudging the webs aside with her fingertip.

Frantically, he nodded what little could, hoping against hope his near-imperceptible movements were being seen. No doubt, of course, as she could feel every tiny movement he made translated directly through the webs. Indeed, she could feel every movement every strand made for miles...

“Well, I don't know...” she said softly, “I do so love milking this cock of yours...” she added, even as she slowed her strokes to a crawl.

“Although... after you cum, there's a lot more fun things we can do...” she said, as casually as if imagining plans for a future holiday, and yet in contrast to her tone began to shuck his foreskin back and forth at breakneck speed.

Rick meanwhile was beside himself, the constantly changing sensations not allowing him to grasp them for even a moment before his cock was being exposed to some new form of torture once more. This wasn't helped when, as if to help her make up her mind, her hands began to trace back along his form to the exposed ticklish flesh she had taken such a delight in torturing.

“Hmmm, tell you what sweetie, if you really want to cum, I'll let you decide,” she said, before giggling, and putting a fingertip over his cocooned mouth, “not yet though. You can tell me if you want to cum soon.”

With that, she dropped back down, hands mercilessly tickling his pits even as she did so, before once more latching her mouth onto his cock, this time slamming her lips against his abdomen with a thick, wet squelch each time she hilted his cock into her mouth, before sloshing forth and back, fellating him with sheer abandon.

Her other hands returned to his feet, taking great care to play his taut soles for every ounce of ticklish suffering they could elicit, tracing each nerve to its source and digging in for the maximum effect.

Bringing his cock to the tip of her mouth, she lavishly encircled it for a few moments, before speaking once more, again as if speaking to his cock.

“If you cum, you'll be much more sensitive... and I might not be able to hold back. I might just never stop tickling you...”

She breathily lapped at his cock a few times before she continued.

“Then again, wouldn't it feel so wonderful? A nice firm hand, coaxing out a wonderful messy orgasm?”

As if to accentuate her point, she ran her thumb and forefinger along the top and underside of his cock in miniature strokes.

“Well... if you want to cum... all you have to do, is snap that little web around your cock,”

At first he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. How was he supposed to do that? He squealed and screamed behind his gag, and she seemingly understood.

“Don't worry, you precious little thing...” she moaned softly, kissing the tip of his cock as she spoke, “you can do it... if you want to cum hard enough, you can snap that little web...”

With that, she began to wet her hand against her mouth, until her fingers were dripping with venomous saliva, and reached down to encircle his cock with a devilish promise.

“There you go, now it's all up to you!”

At that, he was truly confused. What was he supposed to do? Eventually, she just giggled, and used her other hand to pull his butt towards her, slowly sinking into her fingers, before the webs pulled him back.

“Too hard? I'll loosen you a little then...” she whispered, and with a bare tug of her fingers, he felt his legs loosen up. It was just enough to move his prison back and forth.

At this point, blind with need, he foresoke all dignity and thrusted into her wet grip with total abandon. His cocoon only moved an inch or so, even when he threw his whole body into it, so her loving handjob was glacial at first, but at last he found a rhythm. Panting with concentration, he forced himself to rut into her grip, no longer caring about anything, mindless of the silken cock-ring keeping his orgasm caged.

She would sometimes move her hand in concert with his thrusts, leading him to drool with need, and yet would then intentionally move her hand in time with them, leading to barely any friction at all, in order to frustrate his animalistic need to rut into her slippery fingers.

Rick was beside himself, reduced to a wriggling webbed cocoon, desperately chasing that pleasure which seemed so close, and yet was always just too far away.

“I think you need a little more help...” she said softly, and placed her mouth at the end of her fingers, sucking his cockhead inside and lavishing a lick across it each time it pushed between her lips.

That wasn't what she had meant, however, as while that acted as even more incentive – if any was needed – to throw everything he had into chasing his orgasm... her fingertips began to play havoc across his thighs and feet, tickling him mercilessly, yet driving his brain into a primal fight or flight, which merely translated into more aggressive thrusting, much to her delight.

She let her tongue loll out into her fingers, lapping at his cock throughout the entirety of its journey, even as her digits wrecked any sense of sanity that remained in his sensory deprived brain.

His cock lurched and throbbed, wrenching against its silky cuff, desperate to throw off its binds... and at last, with an almighty scream which tore a hole in his cocoon and freed his mouth... he felt it give way. Cock harder than it had ever been, pumping and throbbing with hours of tortured need and libidinous poisons, he rutted and slammed his hips forwards as hard as he could, and in her delight she gripped his ass, pulling him deeper into her waiting slippery tunnel with every movement.

Rick's mind shattered under the assault, and he merely groaned and drooled as his body became nothing more than a vessel whose sole purpose was to deliver that cock into whatever waiting hole she provided.

Hours worth of teasing left him utterly insensible, and he felt his cock at last plunging into the depths of her waiting mouth as she jerked his cock in a flurry. With a rising crescendo of need, he felt his molten desire bubbling forth, and his breath caught in his throat as a staccato of groans met the wall of his crying tears of release. With one last almighty thrust, he felt his cum jet into the back of her throat, as Rick finally found the release he had so wanted. She plunged him in and out of her mouth, her pursed lips milking every drop of his cum from him, her tongue dragging along the underside of his cock as if to milk more and more.

When at last he was spent, and had given his all, he collapsed into his bonds, although the shift in his weight was again barely noticeable from the outside. She peeled back his cocoon enough to free his face, and pulled him close to her bosom. She petted his head, holding him to her pillowy breasts, as his body twitched and shuddered at both imagined phantom touches, and the very real ones she occasionally delivered upon him as his cocooned form was held close to her.

No thoughts of escape, or fear, or anything other than her remained in his mind.

“I did warn you...” she said softly, as he came down from the highest peak of orgasm his fragile male mind could possibly know, “there were other fun things to do after you cum.”

He looked up into her eyes, pleadingly, but found only blazing red orbs in return, which winced close as she smiled... just as her fingers began to tickle him once again, mercilessly.

*****

BAD END

It was hard to tell if he was awake or asleep. The constant haze between his nightly erotic nightmares, and the waking ones which if anything were worse, made it difficult to tell what was real and what was not.

From the outside the only sign of his existence was the squirming of his cocoon whenever a spider girl would come by to drain his heavy balls, or as was more often the case, weigh them like fruit at a market and then tease and torment him for what seemed like hours.

When he was finally allowed to cum, it would be a monumental surge through his entire body, and yet the cocoon would reduce it to little more than frantic little shivers, barely noticeable to anyone but the spider girls who, feeling the vibrations in the webs, could read their victims better than even their sensory-deprived and forcibly inward-focused minds knew themselves.

They knew exactly how to touch, where to touch, to get the maximum effect… and they had plenty of time to learn. The cocoon ensured that Rick, and all the other victims, were constantly bathed in venom, keeping them eternally aroused, eternally sensitive, eternally needy.

Of course, every cocoon had multiple seams through which any spider girl could slip her hands and tease, tickle and torment her victim. Any time they showed even the slightest mote of resistance, their immobile prisoners could be subjected to horrendous tickling torture, or endless sexual torment. Of course, it was up to the spider girls to determine what counted as resistance… however pathetic that concept seemed from a prisoner encased in a cocoon that hung beneath the ground, in caverns long since lost to the world above.

Sometimes they just loved to listen to the muffled screams of their victims as they would tickle them for hours… days… or weeks. After all, their ‘pets’ weren’t going anywhere…

 

[milagros317]

Does "BAD END" mean that you will post an alternate, happier ending for the unfortunate Rick?
In any case, fine story! 😀

 

[scottirish]

F/m tickling! Yes!

 

[footfan69]

Does "BAD END" mean that you will post an alternate, happier ending for the unfortunate Rick?
In any case, fine story! 😀

Same question, MrWriter. Excellent story, and oh so hot! Would love to read any sequels. Well done.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Does "BAD END" mean that you will post an alternate, happier ending for the unfortunate Rick?
In any case, fine story! 😀

Same question, MrWriter. Excellent story, and oh so hot! Would love to read any sequels. Well done.

I just wanted to ape the "Bad End" trope of monstergirl games, have no fear the story does continue.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 4

[This chapter is inspired in part by a writer long since lost to time, wherever they are I hope they are well]

Rick wasn't sure what he had expected. The empty roads were only intermittently interrupted by idle and decrepit buildings, long since abandoned and overgrown.

Once or twice he had, on long nights, considered leaving... or rather, he had regretted leaving the city, and considered going back. It wouldn't have been hard to do. Finding a more travelled and maintained roadway and then hailing a convoy would have taken maybe a day; two at most.

The images in his book, shiny visages of beautiful buildings, were... disappointing to see for himself. Crumbling ruins, where often the broken glass had only been patched by wild and unkempt plantlife. It made him wonder just what plants might grow in the thick undergrowth not too far from the edge of the roads... The forests would have to be incredible indeed, given how thick the foliage was.

Even here, on the outside of the latest building he’d come across, the plants had grown thick. It was four stories tall, sat in the midst of a wide clearing. Though it was clear of trees, though, that hadn’t stopped it being overrun with greenery. It took him nearly half an hour just to break his way inside through layers of thick branches. When he finally managed to break the door down and stumbled in, however, he gasped... in disappointment.

Another long since rendered ruin. It was large, and perhaps contained something of value, but it was little more than it had seemed. Again, he was forced to ask, what had he expected? Coming out here on his own, of course there was nothing left beyond the walls… if there was, then they wouldn’t have been living behind them for so long. Maybe there really was nothing left out here.

Dejected, he kicked his way through the scattered remains of a life that might have been. Empty boxes, a few pieces of broken timber and masonry…

A feather.

Among the dull dust and rubble, it stood out as oddly colourful. A single, pink feather.

He wasn't sure why, but he bent down to pick it up. Turning it in his fingertips, he grinned, it was so soft! Even the slight movement of its bristles over his skin was enough to elicit a smile from him. Incredibly soft.

He took out a small zip bag from his backpack and put it inside. It would be nice to take with him, to at least have something for his efforts. Some small piece of colour in an otherwise drab wasteland.

It had been late in the afternoon when he had found this place. Now through gaps in the walls he could tell the sun was getting low. He'd have to find somewhere here to sleep. This place wasn't exactly warm, but it was dry, and it would keep the worst of the wind out. It wasn’t like he had time to find anywhere else, after all.

The interior of the building, it transpired, was a multitude of small rooms. Apartments, he realised, after opening a few and finding the remains of beds and more. The bottom floor had a corridor around it in a ring, and on either side were apartments. The interior ones, however, were proving difficult to open.

Carefully moving over the uneven floor, he stopped in his tracks as he saw something familiar. Another pink feather, laying atop an otherwise unseeming branch. He retrieved it, smiling again at his little game. A few days outside of the walls and he was already feeling the desire for some stimulation, and collecting feathers was better than nothing.

Making his way over an old wooden door, and through the frame it had once sat in, this new room was far more foliated. He realised, in his mental map, he had managed to find a way into an interior apartment. Branches and twigs littered the floor. By his feet, though, was again something unmistakably pink.

As he was reaching for it, though, his eyes adjusted to the room and he saw more. Dozens of pink feathers, across the brambled floor, until what was in the room finally came into focus.

The entire far wall was a mass of tightly woven branches. A near solid wooden braid.

Dropping the feather in his hand, he made his way over to the gnarled palisade. He tentatively touched, pushed, then pulled on a branch and found it practically immovable, save for a slight organic give.

The whole boughage curved in slightly, and curved deeply away beneath him, as if he stood on the outside of a giant wooden sphere. Holding his hand up, though, he felt no wind passing through it. Whatever it was, it kept the wind out… and, he realised as he felt closer, it kept the heat in. Whatever this thing was, it was warm inside.

He scanned the edges of the walls, and saw that it fitted uniformly to the structure around it, but definitely continued on in either direction, both down into the ground, past either wall, and into the ceiling. As he moved to the apartments on either side, he found the wooden mass continued.

Thinking back, that gave him an idea. He made his way back to the entrance, and to a doorway covered in branches. Those, however, he managed to pull aside with more ease, and behind it was what he had hoped to find - a staircase.

Squeezing through, he felt the branches snap back into place behind him, but paid it no mind. The next floor, as he had hoped, had the same floor plan as the one below. Retracing his steps from below on the next floor up, he once again found a room with a mass of branches, and as he made his way from room to room, found it continued, as if this sphere had rooted within the very interior of the building, occupying its heart.

He climbed the stairs once more, and found that here the walls at last began to taper in. Yet he found no gap, nothing. No entry into it whatsoever, whatever it was. Or exit… he thought, for a moment.

Rick made for the top floor, hoping that he might find a way into this warm, safe alcove. Yet now he couldn’t find the top of it, whatever it was. He moved from room to room with nothing to show for it.

At last, however, in a penthouse apartment, occupying the very middle of the top floor, he found it. The roof was open to the sky here, and below, the floor gave way to an eruption of roots and branches, all seemingly woven into a funnel that led… inside.

Rick stood on the edge of the roots, testing them with his shoes, and stared at the daunting hole that opened up before him. Everywhere now were those pink feathers. They protruded more frequently from the branches just inside the hole, though.

Momentarily uncertain, he fished his book on the outside world from his backpack, and sat against the penthouse’s wall in the setting sun, flicking through. It seemed obvious now, from up here. It was a nest. He’d seen birds making nests outside his window his whole life. However, a nest that filled four floors of a building was new to him.

He jumped at one point, coming across a page on vibrant pink creatures standing on thin red poles… No, not poles, he realised as he read on. They were birds with long, thin legs, and vibrant pink feathers. They, however, were pictured being stood in tranquil water, and green fields. Looking up, he shook his head. This nest hadn’t been made by those things.

Another page, later on, about ‘Birds of Paradise’ sparked his interest. They displayed the same vibrant colours, many colours in fact, but some were definitely pink. It said nothing about their nests, but then, perhaps that’s all it was. A giant bird’s nest.

Long abandoned, he reasoned, as he hadn’t seen nor heard a bird the entire time. Deep down, he didn’t want to think about how big a bird would have to be to carry those thick branches, let alone to bend them into a nest…

Cautiously, he picked up a small piece of rock and tossed it in, bracing for the flap of a dozen pairs of wings to come flying past him.

It never came, however. The stone didn’t make a sound at all in fact. Leaning closer to the edge, he stared down and saw the interior… it was entirely pink. The entire thing was practically carpeted with those same pink feathers.

The sun was going down, and already the dimming light was leaving him chilled. He could find a dry corner of the building… but staring down inside the nest, it looked so warm, so soft…

Rick girded himself, and tested the branches one last time. He was confident he could climb in, and out if needed… Slinging his backpack, he took a firm hold of two branches and lowered himself inside.

Instantly, he felt warmer. Heat rose from within as if he was atop a chimney. For a moment he paused, resting his foot atop a branch to halt himself. It made sense, he reasoned. All those feathers, the tight wood, likely acted to keep the interior warm. As the sun shone down, it probably incubated well and stayed warm through the night. He wasn’t fully reassured, but continued regardless. If it came to the worst, he could always just climb out.

His arms, however, began to tingle as he climbed. The pink feathers began to work their way under his shirt, beneath his arms, against his neck, across his midriff and of course across his face.

Sputtering, he tried to pull his face back, but the feathers seemed to always be there wherever he went, and they tickled awfully. Every slight movement caused them to work away at his vulnerable skin, eliciting little shrieks and giggles from him as he struggled to keep climbing down.

As he descended, the feathers grew thicker. The wood now felt slick and soft as the feathers seemed practically to be growing from the wood, but it seemed as though they had simply been worked in there over time. Now, though, his hands were being tickled awfully, and the urge to let go was growing stronger.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his arms and legs to move mechanically, groaning in frustration as he blindly felt for footrests with his shoes. All the while pink feathery fronds were seemingly finding every exposed inch of skin and worming their way in.

He wrenched his head back, a few pink feathers following and floating down beside his face almost mockingly, as tried to hold himself still. Every tiny tickle, however, caused an involuntary twitch, which would simply set off further ticklish touches, and slowly he began to squirm in place despite his best efforts.

Rick looked down to the bottom of the nest to judge how far it would be to fall, and saw the bedding of the nest was just what it had appeared to be. Judging by the curves, below him lay a half-floor thick layer of nothing but pink feathers. He was only a few feets’ fall from the surface now, and was soon judging whether he could just drop into it. It seemed thick enough to easily cushion his fall, and if not, he was close enough to the ground that it would be a short drop.

Only then, just as he had made his decision and was about to let go, did he see something that caused his blood to run ice cold. For a moment, the ticklish sensations were dulled as fear flooded through him.

A large pair of piercing blue eyes peered out from beneath the feathers, staring… unmistakably and unerringly, directly at him.

For a few moments he was simply frozen in place, as his mind tried to process what he was seeing through a cloud of instinctual apprehension.

That, however, gave way to blind terror as those same eyes rose from the sea of pink feathers, and brought with them a cascade of pink plumes which slowly fell away… From within came the outline of a massive, naked woman, who even from his heightened position seemed to possess immense proportions. Her long pink hair hung loosely over ample breasts. Her plump stomach fed into even healthier hips and thicker thighs. Given how deep the feathers seemed, it spoke to her sheer size that she could stand atop them. At either shoulder, however, most alarmingly, she sported a pair of massive pink wings.

Yet, more than anything, as she rose to her full height, he fixated upon those glacial eyes. Only when she was eye to eye with him did he suddenly realise… just how large she was. Looking down, most of her legs were still buried beneath the feathers… which he was certain would have come up to his head.

As fear gave way to terror he felt his limbs unfrozen at last, and began to scramble for grip, trying desperately to climb back up the wall he had taken so long to carefully descend. However, as adrenaline flushed through him, and gave him the strength to climb faster, it also heightened his every sense… including his sensitivity.

Now he felt every phantom touch from the feathers as if it was the whisking tickle of a teasing touch, and sweat beaded his brow with the effort it took to ignore them. Hand over hand, he felt his shoes slipping as the feathery branches gave little purchase in his haste.

From behind, he could not only hear the woman, but feel her - whatever she was - growing closer.

“You should be careful climbing like that,” came a bubbly voice from behind, which caused him to gasp in shock, and he nearly let go of the branch he had clasped onto altogether, “you might fall and get hurt!”

Desperately, he tried to force himself to not be ticklish, even as his arms recoiled instinctually from the ticklish sensations and nearly sent him plummeting down. He struggled to keep his footing.

“Why don’t you come down baby? Come down to Mommy where it’s safer…” the voice came again, much closer this time.

Glancing down, he yelped in panic as he saw her arms, and her fluffy pink wings, reaching out for him. He struggled mightily to pull himself upwards out of her reach, yet the teasing pink fronds were relentless. The further he stretched his arm, the worse the tickling became, and his progress had become painfully slow.

When her hands made contact with his thighs, he began to plead. “No no no! Please!”

However, she didn't, as he had expected, simply pluck him from the wall.

Instead… she gently ran her fingertips under his thighs in an utterly ticklish fashion.

“I’ll catch you, come to Momma!” she said in a sweet tone that starkly contrasted with her pernicious actions.

His eyes widened as a rictus grin spread across his cheeks, an involuntary response to her gentle touches against the undersides of his sensitive thighs. Shakily, he reached out a hand, hoping he might just be able to at least climb out of her reach.

“Awww, I know you want to play sweetie, but you really would be much safer down here with Mommy…”

Why was she calling herself Mommy!? She wasn’t his mother!

He forced his legs up, knees against his chest, but she just began to tickle the globes of his ass instead, under the pretence of being ready to catch him. He felt his body sag back, and his arms strained beneath his full bodyweight hung out, barely holding on.

“Now now, it’s okay sweet thing… There’s no need to be afraid. See? Mommy will use her wings to keep you safe…”

He watched in horror as, out of the corner of his tear-swept eyes, as her fluffy pink wings moved slowly in. His arms, clinging desperately to the branches, were now fully outstretched… and totally vulnerable. As soon as the lead feathers of either wing, far softer even than those which adorned her nest, began to trace along the underside of his forearms in a frightfully ticklish manner, he knew he was doomed.

His arms shook with the effort of clinging on by his fingers, given the utterly electric feelings of those ticklish feathers… but when they dipped inside his shirt and began to sweep gently under his armpits and across his chest, he could hold on no more. As her wings ever so gently lapped beneath his arms, like a finger beckoning him to his doom, it took every ounce of his remaining strength to hold on, fighting every instinct to tug his arms in and pull his hands down to protect his sensitive hollows.

Rick giggled, choking back laughter, as tears now truly welled in his eyes. His knuckles turned white with the effort of both trying to hold on, and trying to physically force out the ticklish sensations from his mind through mental fortitude alone. At last, though, some ticklish pink feathers found his nipples, and began to circle them mercilessly. His giggles burst forth like a dam breaking, and he squealed in total ticklish torment. In more ways than one, he just let go.

Her hands caught him expertly, and her wings encircled him as she gently pulled him into her embrace. Instantly, her massive breasts enveloped his head from behind, and amidst the ticklish sensations still ravaging his body he merely squirmed and blushed as they pressed into his head.

“There we go, such a good boy…”

She lowered him to the bedding of feathers below, and he felt the soft quills depress beneath him as he sank down, until they formed a yielding but firm layer.

Letting him go, much to his surprise, the giant bird woman loomed over him as he merely lay there. She had to be ten feet tall, maybe more. A giant… naked… woman; with massive pink wings sprouting from her shoulders. Her breasts were simply immense, each nearly the width of her torso, which was itself well obscured behind them. Given how much larger than him she was, their sheer size left him dazed.

Rick had to have gone insane. This couldn't really be happening. As she leaned in close to him, he couldn't help but scurry back in panic. Yet as he did so, now sunken into the feathers, he felt himself quickly going mad as they found their way into his clothing, and every movement was swiftly bringing him back to the brink of hysterics. Soon enough, he found himself backed up against the nest's wooden wall, squirming as the feathers itched away within his clothes.

"Oh my sweet baby!" she gushed, crossing her hands affront her nude pussy, his view of which left him blushing immensely, before her titanic bust ballooned to fill his vision as her arms pressed together around them.

"Ah, uh, I…" he mumbled, momentarily distracted from the tickling by the mind-boggling physics at work between her breasts.

"I've always wanted a baby. That's why I built my nest!" she spoke giddily, her eyes practically beaming, "A baby of my own to take care of is all I've ever wanted…"

For a moment she looked almost lost, distant, until her dazzling blue eyes locked on him and narrowed.

"And now I finally have one!"

“I… um… I’m not…” he mumbled, but couldn’t get the words out.

He didn’t have much chance to speak, though, it turned out. As she fell upon him, he screamed in panic, but it was quickly muffled by her breasts pressing in over his mouth. As the moments passed, his panic subsided somewhat, as he realised she wasn't devouring him… she was hugging him. Cuddling him…

The closeness had sent the feathers within his clothing, though, which he could no longer reach into to remove as she had him pinned to the feathery floor beside her. It sent him into a ticklish frenzy, and he now giggled incessantly, squirming at the invading ticklish touches. Not only that, but being practically buried in her soft pink feathers was doing very little to help either.

"Oh my, I've wanted to hear a happy giggly baby for so long, you have no idea my sweet baby boy…"

"Nnnh! No! I-" was all he could manage before she simply lowered her hand to begin lovingly tickling under his chin, which given his already ticklish predicament sent him well over the edge of total delirium.

"Awww, my cute baby's such a squirmy boy! Do you like Mommy's soft feathers that much? Hmmm…?"

Unable to clear the cheek-aching grin from his face, he tried desperately to disagree, but once again his words dissolved into laughter along with any thoughts he'd had.

"Awww, so adorable. Come cuddle Momma!"

With that she plunged him face-first into her monumental mammaries, and his giggles were soon muffled by her flesh, along with any attempted protests.

"Snuggle with Mommy, that's it, let Mommy cuddle you. I've been waiting so long for a baby to take care of..."

She slowly traced the contours of his body, sending him into a giggly squirming mess as she pressed the feathers within his clothing against his entrapped skin.

"Oh my," she cooed with mock sympathy, at last acknowledging his manic squirms, "are Mommy's feathers being all tickly inside your clothes?"

"MMMFH!" was all Rick could say in response, before squirming in renewed ticklish torment as her fingers danced along his sides.

"Oh dear, whatever can Mommy do to stop those awful tickly feathers?" she asked, grinning down at the top of his trapped head as it twitched from one side to the other, unleashing breathy laughter into her cleavage which tickled her pleasantly in turn.

"Hmmmm…" she mused, toying at the small of his back and sending him jumping and squirming against her thighs, "if only there were some way to get those feathers out…"

She let him suffer for a little while longer before, at last, pulling the poor boy free of her bosomy prison. Sweat had soaked his face both from the closeness of her skin and the exertion of his laughter.

"I suppose we'll just have to get my baby boy out of those clothes!"

She soon held him just above the layer of feathers in which he had erstwhile been trapped against her massive soft body. Rick’s tired brain was fogged with a mix of sexual haze and ticklish exhaustion, but as her words set in, panic loomed once more.

"N-n-n-no w-wait-" he stammered, picturing himself naked against her and blushing, then froze as he realised the true implications nudity would have.

Looking down, he saw the tantalising bed of her pink tickly feathers, and shivered in terror. It had been sheer torture when he had been clothed. Being naked in there would be…

"NO! PLEASE!" he panted, yet she merely smiled that airy smile, eyes fixed on his.

She merely enclosed her wings around his waist, holding him under the arms with their surprising strength, and her hands gently took hold of his shirt.

Then shredded it in seconds.

Rick barely felt a tug as the material simply disappeared around him. Before he knew it, his chest was bare. He looked down in astonishment as her nails… no her talons… tore his shorts and underwear apart in kind.

Merely gawking down at his own nude form, stunned by the speed of his disrobing and the sheer strength she must have possessed, he could only shudder slightly and blush as his naked cock now lay inches from her protruding, mountainous breasts and plump, thick lips. He tried to close his hands over his waist, blushing deeply, but couldn’t reach down far enough.

She ran her tongue across those lips now, lasciviously, and he watched in awe as her long tongue coated them in a slick layer. Now he simply imagined what that tongue could do. In spite of everything, and much to her delight, his cock hardened in the space between them.

"Aww, is Mommy's boy excited?"

Then he felt her slowly lowering him down, and he remembered why he had been so worried.

"Please, wait, no!" he squeaked, clinging to her arms for all the world as if he were the very child she seemed to wish him to be.

"It's okay, sweet thing… it's time to play with Mommy."

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 5

[This chapter is inspired in part by a writer long since lost to time, wherever they are I hope they are well]

As the feathery floor reached up as if to grab him, she let him drop the last few inches into its surface, and with a whoosh, the soft feathers fluttered and danced in the air around.

Instantly he was overcome with helpless, endless, ticklish teasing. He squirmed and giggled and begged as he was immersed in a sea of ticklish sensations. It had been bad enough when clothed, what little protection that had offered, but now he was fully immersed in her wicked ticklish web.

In moments she was beside him, delighting in how without even having to touch him he was already so playful for her. Her massive breasts pressed down on his own chest and held him in place as she loomed in closer.

Unable to avoid it, Rick could only watch as her thick lips closed in on his, and her tongue lapped across his lips, leaving a slimy trail behind it before she pressed in for a kiss. The pillowy softness of her slick lips was magnified for him now, as they splayed out and dwarfed his own.

She sucked his mouth against hers with surprising force… before her tongue wormed between his lips.

Instantly, the taste of her saliva sent his mind tingling, and he groaned in arousal at the erotic way she kissed and sucked at his lips. Her saliva dripped down his chin as if she were feeding it to him, which he dazedly realised she effectively was. Now he was squirming more from the electric feelings of his cock gently brushing against her stomach, and her tongue flitting against his, than he was from the ticklish feathers he was being pressed down into.

Below, she slowly worked her hand up and down his midriff, moving a little lower every time. The ticklish sensations of the feathers wasn't gone, but it had dimmed to an almost pleasant background buzz. Her kissing was making him almost light headed, as if she were sucking the thoughts right out of his head along with everything else. His eyes rolled back as it felt like her long tongue had wrapped itself around his brain.

With a wet pop, she released Rick’s now soaking mouth, and left him panting heavily.

"Is Mommy's good boy excited to play?" she asked with coy sincerity, now slowly tickling her fingertips under the head of his cock.

"Mmmmfh…" he groaned in response, squirming and arching his back into those lovely fingers.

"Oh, but my good boy must be so very tired from climbing…" she said softly, her eyes flashing for a moment, "trying to climb away from Mommy, what a silly boy…"

Just for a moment, the tickling upon his cock became far less sexual and far more torturous. He giggled and squealed as her fingertips drove his sensitive hard cock wild under her ticklish assault.

As soon as it began, it had ended, and her fingers had resumed their gentle coaxing of his cock. Rick, however, twitched and squirmed as the ticklish sensations echoed long after. The message was clear - she could tickle him at any point, and he was helpless to do anything about it.

With a single hand, she lifted him up and slid her thick thigh beneath him, keeping his crotch presented up and jutting outwards, totally exposed to her. She then lifted her other leg across him and pinned his arms to his sides as her thick leg came down with a wet, sweaty slap, covering everything from his lower chest to his waist and sandwiching him between her two massive thighs… he was trapped.

Her gentle demeanour had returned, however, and she simply grinned at her now totally helpless captive with renewed maternalism.

"Mommy's boy must be so thirsty after all that climbing…" she cooed, and slowly began to circle a finger around one of her fat, thick nipples as she did so.

Rick’s eyes were drawn to her finger almost hypnotically as it spun, widening slightly as her large nipple hardened and protruded under her touch, growing and growing until it was almost two inches long, and nearly a full inch wide.

Before his eyes, like condensation collecting, droplets of milk began to form at the stubby tip of her nipple and formed together into a drop. The drop became a drip, drip, drip; before it trickled down the massive swell of her breast. She giggled in delight at his bashful and stunned expression.

"Is Mommy’s good boy… thirsty?"

He tried to express some objection, but already so thoroughly overwhelmed both physically and mentally by this immense sexual being, he couldn't bring himself to voice it. Indeed, some small part of him was not entirely opposed to the idea…

She slowly, and gently, but insistently, guided his mouth - so recently slickened by her sloppy kiss - to her nipple. As she did so, her other hand gently pinched it, sending a small squirt of cream to wet his chin, and guided her thick nipple to his lips in turn. He strained a little against her gentle fingers, but could barely pull his chin away from her.

"Come on, good boy… suckle for Mommy…" she insisted, and guided him closer.

Rick pursed his lips, and flushed deeply red with embarrassment, refusing to allow her thick nipple to enter his mouth. Milk began to paint across his lips, and he couldn’t help but inhale the sweet scent of her cream. It filled his senses and left his head swimming.

As her nipple tickled determinedly at his lips, she patiently wore away at his defences, until his tight lips began to loosen just slightly… then all it took was her hand to slowly drift down and trace across his sensitive stomach for him to gasp and shudder in ticklish ecstasy. As he did so, she easily slid her thick nipple home into his mouth, depressing his tongue beneath it and rendering him helpless to do anything but plaintively lick at the milky intruder.

"Thaaat's a good boy, such a good baby…" she cooed triumphantly, her sickly sweet voice taunting his reddening ears.

Wincing and sobbing in embarrassment, at how easily she had reduced him to a meek suckling child in her arms, her giggling only served to underline his helplessness. Her cream jetted gently into his mouth in tiny spurts, yet he felt too embarrassed to do as she wanted. Not only that, but he was determined to not give in to her so easily!

She was undeterred, however. Slowly, she traced her fingers along the back of his neck, and under his chin, ticklishly encouraging him to reflexively swallow the growing pool of milk in his mouth… and involuntarily suckle at her as he did so. She had won again, oh so easily, and he cursed himself. He hated how easily she could manipulate him into doing what she wanted, and brooding, he resigned himself to his fate.

As Rick experimentally suckled, he felt the tiny spurts of milk swiftly grew, as even the bare suction his comparatively small mouth brought forth torrents of milk from her finger thick nipple which now filled his mouth as it turgidly flexed. Unable to help himself, his tongue was lapping at her nipple as he struggled to find a comfortable place for it as her nipple swelled to fill his mouth.

“That’s it, drink it all up for Momma… Mmmm…”

She groaned in response to his supplication, evidently immensely enjoying how he was treating her sensitive nipple… and no doubt enjoying his submission to her whims. Her tickling hand became far more soothing now as it curled around his sensitive throat, feeling it shift as gulp after gulp of her milk was swallowed down. Although, her delicate hand never stopped its gentle ministrations entirely - as if an unspoken threat of what awaited even the slightest hint of resistance on his part. He would drink her milk down, he would obey her, and there would be no argument brooked about it. Rick now knew well what she would do if he did otherwise.

However, he was simply glad to find she wasn't tormenting him with her ticklish attention anymore, and Rick groaned in satisfaction around her nipple as she at last began to properly stroke his cock in her soft, strong fingers. The vibrations of his lips around her thick nipple delighted her, and she rewarded him with steady strokes of his cock which now bucked delightedly in her hand.

“Such a good, good boy, drinking all of Mommy’s milk…”

Indeed, his cock was practically buzzing now. He humped a little into her hand, and was rewarded with a tight grip that encouraged him to fuck her slick, stroking fingers.

“That’s it, just relax… let Mommy’s milk fill your tummy… such a thirsty boy…”

As he swallowed, her milk became thicker, richer, creamier… and sweeter. It clung to his tongue, painting every surface of his mouth with its saccharine taste. He felt himself eagerly swallowing her delicious milk now. Dimly, he hoped he could satisfy her long enough to allow himself time to plan. Maybe she would leave him alone long enough to try to escape.

“My good boy doesn’t have to think about anything else but sucking… suck for Mommy…”

Rick did just that, and as he suckled, he found it harder and harder to hold those thoughts in his head. It felt so much easier to just relax into her arms, her breasts, feel her soft breath tickling across his face… As he grew more relaxed, his cock merely throbbed all the harder, and his skin began to tingle at every slight touch. In fact, his whole body felt so sensitive now…

Rick felt as if his whole body were alive, his skin was almost singing like it had been out in the sun. Why? He wasn't sure. Was it just the after effects of his skin being so inundated with ticklish sensations? Maybe he was just so overwhelmed that his hazy mind had begun to retreat from reality, and he was losing sobriety along with his grasp on reality. He sucked, and sucked, and felt her cloying cream filling him up… and as he did, he felt his body come more alive, and his cock throbbed all the more.

He looked up into her eyes and, behind her wide smile, saw her lidded eyes glaring down at him, squinting triumphantly, teeth bared as if at a joke only she had heard…

In horrified realisation, Rick tightened his throat, trying not to swallow. She simply pressed her breast home gently, however, smothering his face and forcing his tongue down beneath her heavy, thick nipple as milk spurted directly down his thirsty throat. It was her milk! Her milk was doing something to him!

Rick squirmed, trying to push her motherly mammary away from his face. He couldn’t even free his hands, but he had to try! However, she simply used the free hand not gripping his chin to delicately tickle his nipple. To him, however, it felt like the most intensely ticklish sensation he had ever felt.

Instantly, his arms squirmed and flailed uselessly at his sides, pinned between her thighs, helpless to prevent even her single ticklish fingertip from driving him to the brink of madness. He practically choked on her milk as he laughed insanely into her all-encompassing bosom. His nose was pressed into her skin, leaving him desperate for air as his suffocated laughter exhausted all the breath he had.

Pulling back, she peeled her sweaty breast from his face just enough to allow him to breathe once more, and he panted in exhaustion. Terrified, he only now realised just how insidious her trap had been. As her milk poured down his throat, he swallowed against his will, and felt himself growing more and more aroused, more and more sensitive. If he had been that ticklish to just a single finger on his nipple, what would it be like if she…

Grinning evilly at the look of realisation on his tired face, she nodded to him as he wilted under her gaze. She had so easily overpowered him with tickling before, he didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like if she did now!

“Such a good boy,” she cooed, in unspoken acknowledgement. Now her hand was a blur, shucking his cock up and down as if to drive home just how helpless he was under her.

He tried, he tried so hard not to swallow, but it was just so… sweet. He knew it was poisoning his body, making him so much more sensitive, and so horny he couldn’t think straight… but that only made it that much harder to concentrate on not swallowing. Even when he would manage to stop for a moment, she would just suffocate him with her breast again, forcing his throat open with her long, thick nipple. Or she would slowly run her fingers along his sensitive skin until he choked it down - not even having to intentionally tickle him anymore - just the threat was enough.

Of course, she didn’t even have to. No matter how much he drank, his body seemed to want more. His stomach groaned for it when he wasn’t swallowing.

At length, her nipple finally began to slow, its jutting spurts of cream slowing to a trickle once more which - to his deep shame - he found himself longingly sucking on her nipple for more of. Why couldn’t he stop himself? Was there more to it than heightening his sensitivity? Deep down, he worried that it might have more… permanent effects.

“All done,” she cooed, cupping his chin with a finger as she slid her nipple out of his mouth, attached by a string of saliva, “such a good boy, drinking all his milk for Mommy…”

She scooped up the trickle of milk that leaked from between his lips, and gently pushed her finger into his mouth to suck it clean. Even though his tongue ached from being trapped under her heavy, gouting nipple for so long, he still licked every drop of milk she offered from her finger obediently.

He groaned as she pulled her finger out at last, his tongue chasing after it despite his embarrassment, both because he wanted more… and because he was now so close to orgasm. However, she slowed the pumping of her hand to a slow crawl in response to his eager thrusts, and loosened her grip to the point where her fingers were barely grazing his now practically vibrating cock. He spurted several globs of pre-cum in response to her teasing touches. He was so close… so close.

“Such a thirsty boy…” she cooed softly, running her finger across his milk-sodden lips, “just one nipple to go…”

He whined pitifully, humping desperately under the weight of her thick thigh, but barely able to move his cock between her tantalising fingers now as she allowed the full weight of one of her thighs to pin him to the other. Slowly, dauntingly, she began to stroke her other nipple as if it were a small cock of its own, and began to time her strokes of his cock with that of her nipple. Already quite aroused from before, her nipple had already begun to dribble milk prodigiously, which begam a pulsing squirt as it hardened fully.

Caught between his desperate desire to cum, and the gurgling of his now very full stomach, he struggled both against her grip and within his own mind. He couldn’t give in. He had to resist her, no matter what. He couldn’t just keep drinking her milk, or he’d never escape this place! He had to resist…

That sentiment melted like a house of sand in the wind, however, against the relentless stroking of her hand on his oh-so-needy cock. As her nipple grew closer, he squirmed beneath her, trying to escape from her tantalising promise. It tasted so good. It made him feel so good… he should just give in and suckle, and then she would let him cum…

Tears welled in his eyes as he warred with himself, but he knew deep down which side would win out in the end. There was only so much a boy could take. It was hopeless. Her teasing ministrations, her addictive sweet cream… he could only hold out so long.

Tantalisingly, teasingly, she held her nipple just scantly beyond his lips. Dribbles of milk dropped down his chin, painting his chest.

“Be a good boy for Mommy… suckle from Mommy… drink all Mommy’s milk…” she cooed.

A strangled cry wrenched from his throat as he gently rolled his head to one side, then the other, but she just followed him, always keeping her nipple just in front of his lips… He understood now, she wanted to watch him give in. She wanted him to surrender to her, utterly, completely, and totally.

No, he told himself, weakly… Sucking was surrender. Sucking was giving in. Sucking was throwing his life away. Sucking meant drinking more of her milk. Sucking meant…

She would stroke him harder. Sucking meant he would feel better. Sucking meant more sweet delicious cream which even now his stomach was groaning for. Sucking meant… he would get to cum.

He whimpered, sobbed, and latched on to her nipple in defeat.

“GOOD BOY…” she cooed, voice dripping with conceit.

As his reward for surrendering himself at last, she made a ring with her thumb and forefinger… and squeezed it just above the head of his cock. As he rocked his hips up, he could just plunge his sensitive rim through her slippery digits before the weight of her thigh would pull him back down.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and across her suffocating breast as he humped away his freedom, suckled down her control, and spurted clear slimy gouts of surrender from his cock to dribble down her soft fingers.

As his orgasm quickly rolled in, she reached down with her other hand and began to ever-so-delicately roll his nipple between her fingers. It tickled of course, but also… it felt utterly delightful. Heavenly. He drooled for a while as she did so, stars shooting in his vision at the sensations she could give him with just a few delicate fingers.

He writhed in utter sexual delight beneath her, thrusting eagerly into the slippery ring she had so generously made for him, and groaned in sexual ecstasy as he felt that familiar itch in his cock head signalling his imminent orgasm.

However, just as she felt his cock throbbing, moments from orgasm… she let go of his cock, leaving him thrusting into empty, frictionless air and weeping with frustration.

“Oh my, I almost forgot!” she said, bringing her pre-cum slickened hand to her mouth in mock surprise and licking it clean surreptitiously.

He groaned and whined into her nipple, unable to give voice to his very clear dissatisfaction.

“My poor baby boy isn’t naked yet!” she giggled, and his mind raced.

What the hell was she talking about? She’d ripped off his clothes! They were- Oh, his shoes…

Somewhere below, he felt her wings begin to tease up and down his calves, protruding out from between her thighs, and they began tickling behind his knees; sending his lower legs squirming and kicking in ticklish torment.

“Mommy’s good boy should be naked at all times… why would he ever need clothes if he’s never, ever going to be leaving the nest, after all?”

With a single finger, she snaked a single tickly talon down inside his sock and - in a flash - tore the sock and shoe both apart. It tickled awfully, but once his foot was exposed to the air he knew deep down his suffering had barely begun. The other came free in just the same manner. Now not a scrap of his clothing remained…

“There we go… naked for Mommy, just as he should be. My good boy doesn’t need anything on his feet. After all, what if Mommy wanted to play with them?”

She slowly, delicately, traced the undersides of his arches with the tips of her wing feathers; the gossamer plumage was utterly silky soft… and that was enough to send Rick into total hysteria. He thrashed, he writhed, he shook, he screamed. Yet with his mouth plugged by her engorged nipple, and her thighs holding him in place, his utter desperation appeared as nothing more than playful squirming - which played right into her desires.

“Such a happy boy!” she grinned, and cooed soft nothings as she subjected him to unrelenting ticklish torment.

Now, though, she embraced his cock fully. Her hand clasped around him deliberately, and her ticklish wings began to brush his feet recklessly, driving Rick to the edge of total madness. He thrusted now both out of a desperate attempt to escape those inescapable ticklish feathers, and the desperate pursuit of his always-so-close orgasm.

Satisfied at last, it seemed, she relented, and her fingers were an utter blur on his cock as she instantly took him from near-orgasm to mind-erasing climax.

His cheeks caved in as he inhaled, a fresh squirt of cream sinking down his throat, as he came harder than he ever had. Harder than he ever thought was possible. Harder than, in fact, naturally would have been possible. His first jet of cum landed across the underside of her breast, which lay sandwiched atop her thigh. She had now lifted it just enough to let him fuck her hand as vigorously as he liked. There was no need to restrain him anymore, after all… he was hers now.

Rope after rope of cum painted the underside of her breast as he thrust into her hand, coating her thigh, and at last his cock wilted to a trembling semi-erection under her incessant toying, drawing the absolute maximum pleasure out of him.

He hungrily suckled on her, nuzzling into her, and felt her nipple deflating slightly as its thick milk was spent.

“Such a good boy…” she whispered, stroking his hair and letting him ride the high of an orgasm his human mind simply had never been designed to experience.

She soothingly ran a hand down the back of his neck, running her fingertips through his hair in gentle strokes. Despite everything, he found himself relaxing under her touch, as her other arm began to massage his back and gently rub his worries away.

“Good boy… my baby… just relax…”

Fitfully he twitched and tittered between her massive breasts, phantom touches lingering in his system alongside the very real tickles here and there both she and the bed of feathers gave him. While he tried to fight against it, her soothing voice seemed almost hypnotic.

“Sweet boy… such a sweet boy… good boy for Mommy… just listen to Mommy…”

He felt his body thrum to the beat of his heart as he nestled in close to her. The sun had set, and the nest was warm, if a little dim. Her pink wings settled in about them now, and she lifted him slightly to slip one beneath him, the other closing around him protectively.

“My sweet, sweet baby… I’ve always wanted a baby and now I have you… my sweet boy…”

Part of him ached. Many parts, actually, but this was more of an emotional pain. She obviously did care about him. It was hard to tell if it was her drugged milk talking but… she wouldn’t be holding him like this if she didn’t.

Still, he couldn’t stay here. As amazing as that had been, he couldn’t spend the rest of his life in this nest with a deranged, if stunningly beautiful, bird woman.

He wanted to, no he HAD to tell her he wasn’t her baby, he was a grown man! At least, that he was old enough to not be treated like her child!

“Um…” he said softly, and she just lifted a finger to his lips with a shush, petting his head softly and lulling him back to a hypnotic rest.

He tugged his head to the side however, persisting.

“L-look, I’m sorry I… um… entered your nest, but-”

“Oh, my dear sweet baby…” she cooed, and cuddled him close, smothering him in her chest once more as her bosom smooshed up to his eyes.

He looked up, barely able to see her over the tide of titflesh, as she smiled down manically.

“Don’t be sorry. This is the best day of my life; the day when I found you. You’re going to be my baby now… you’ll never have to worry about anything else, ever again. Mommy has you now, and you’ll never have to leave our nest… ever.”

He tried to break free of her bosomy grip but it was like trying to tread water without your arms, he could barely get enough room to breathe between her moist cleavage, let alone speak. It was hard enough without his now freshly throbbing hard cock making it even more difficult.

“But, I’m not… you’re not…” he groaned, trying to be heard.

Her gaze stiffened, looking down at him, yet she was inscrutable. He shuddered, wondering what she could be thinking. The tattered remnants of his clothes lay not too far away, a reminder of just how strong this woman was… he went quiet, then.

After a few moments, her face softened as she pulled away from him, and looked down to see his now hardening cock, and the smile returned, but her gaze was still as hard as before…

“Oh I see… Mommy’s baby still wants to play.”

“N-no…” he mumbled, “I…”

“Mommy’s good boy deserves to be happy… after all, he makes his Mommy so happy.” Her voice was as bubbly as before, but… cool now.

Slowly, her wings began to move aside, and his eyes widened as her hands took hold of his arms, pulling them gently up.

“My good boy…” she said with a smile, yet softly, as if… sad.

She got to her knees and sat back, before lifting him up and planting his feet between her thighs, then clamping them shut to hold him in place between them like a fleshy vice. Holding his arms out to either side, he stammered once more.

“P-please, I- I’m- Please-” he was cut short, however, as she kissed him again, her thick lips and snaking wet tongue scrambling his thoughts.

She pulled back, a trail of saliva between them, as she whispered delicately, just loud enough for him to hear… although he was pretty sure she was talking to herself.

“You will be my good boy…”

Her wings swept in slowly, and began to dance all over his exposed sides, thick reams of feathers raking his vulnerable flesh and sending Rick into utterly silent shivering hysterics. It tickled so much he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. His vision went white and he couldn’t even breathe.

For long moments he simply shivered like ticklish meat in a stretched pose, utterly unable to comprehend the overwhelming sensations assaulting his mind.

Then, at last, he screamed in ticklish agony. Just as his recent orgasm had been beyond anything he could comprehend, this tickled more than he thought was possible. More than should have been possible. It was like every inch of his body was as ticklish as the most ticklish spots on his body had been before, and now anywhere he had been ticklish before was… well, quite beyond anything his mind could process.

He railed. He cried. He begged. He doubted she even heard it. He wasn’t even sure his words were coming out amidst the babble of mindless laughter. Surely she had to realise what her tickling was doing to him! It was agonising. This bosomy bird woman obviously had some extreme maternal instincts, but didn’t this ticklish torture go against that!? Surely she must have known how it was tormenting him…

Then it struck him. Somewhere in the last refuges of sanity his mind possessed, the pieces began to fit together. Maybe she needed to hear his laughter for her fantasy to work. Obviously she knew he wasn’t her baby, but he had to giggle and laugh like one and be just as easily amused, and tickling was her way of making it happen. No matter how artificial it was still pushing those maternal buttons.

He looked into her oh-so-caring, and yet simultaneously merciless eyes, through the tears that poured across his aching cheeks. She was obviously eating up every giggle he made with a gleeful grin. Any time his laughter died down, she would simply find a new spot to tickle and send him back into hysterics.

She loomed in closer, his hard cock bouncing around in front of her, as her massive breasts slowly pressed in. Struggling, he tried to pull away, but she simply tickled his back, forcing him forward by his own instinctual drive to escape her ticklish touches.

Her taunting, jiggling breasts moved in closer, the space between them seeming so promising to his aching cock… yet he knew he couldn’t give in. This was his last chance. He had to… he had to…

A smug grin was all she showed him as she made her point clear, in the most physical way possible. She smothered his cock in her tits, forcing him between them, and he groaned in pure, sexual longing as his cock slid between her heavenly breasts.

Those breasts had driven home in the clearest way possible how pointless it was to resist. His resistance was as nothing in the face of her sheer sexual dominance.

As his ticklish torment was translated into titillating titfucking, he realised he truly was powerless against her. It was hopeless. Anything she wanted to do to him, he was helpless to resist. He began to hear his own mind betraying him, whispering… He should just be a good boy. Be a good boy for his Mommy.

Those thoughts came unbidden, and they frightened him, until he realised they weren’t his own thoughts at all. What he was hearing was her words, being droned in an endless procession of sweet yet envenomed sentiments, seeking to wear away at his mental defences even as his physical ones were crumbling under her torturous assault. His mind soaked up her words like a sponge, so vulnerable from the combination of her mind-altering milk, his mind-bending orgasm, and now his mind-breaking ticklish torture.

“Just give in… it’s hopeless to resist… be a good boy for Mommy… cum into Mommy’s tits and laugh… it tickles so much… you can’t get away… Mommy will tickle you until you cum… and then she’ll tickle you more…”

He sobbed, he screamed, he tried to tug his hands to his ears to cover them but her grip around his wrists, keeping his arms nice and open for her, was as soft as it was immovable. He thrashed his head from side to side, trying to not hear her words, but even when he laughed so loud he couldn’t hear himself think, her words still somehow resonated in his mind.

“Such a ticklish boy… his body is so sensitive… Mommy’s ticklish touches make him laugh… Mommy’s touches makes him hard… Mommy’s touches make him cum…”

Her breasts now clung to his sopping cock as pre-cum slickened the valley of cleavage between them, and she honed in her ticklish feathers directly on his ass to force him to thrust as hard as possible to try to escape - however hopeless that escape was.

Those depthless sapphires, her beautiful eyes, locked with his now, and he found he could not pull his gaze away from them.

“Cum for Mommy…” she said, softly.

He shook his head, but couldn’t look away.

“Cum for Mommy…”

He tried but couldn’t stop his cock plunging into her wet breasts.

“Cum for Mommy…”

He tried to hold himself still but her feathers simply found their way between his thighs and tickled his oh-so-delicate seams, and the back of his tender balls, forcing him to buck up into her tits.

“Cum for Mommy…”

It was hopeless.

“Cum for Mommy…”

He couldn’t resist her.

“Cum for Mommy…”

Her voice was in his mind.

“Cum for Mommy…”

He felt his breathing quicken.

“Cum for Mommy…”

Her eyes flashed with hunger.

“Cum for Mommy…”

He let out one last cry as her breasts enveloped him.

“CUM FOR MOMMY!”

His cock squirted the last remnants of his resistance vigorously into the folds of her breasts, and she chuckled in smug amusement at the power she held over him.

“That’s my good boy…” she whispered, feeling the mighty jolts of his cock between her smothering tits as it spurted the last of his resistance in a sticky mess.

Despite her threats, her tickling soon slowed to a delicate, almost tender caressing. Softly, gently, she lowered his head to her shoulder as she kissed his neck. His cock kept squirting between her tits as she patted his back, stroked his head, encouraging him to slowly thrust into her slick bosom.

As he spent his last, and at last was spent, she laid him atop her soft wing and covered him with the other, holding him close as she softly stroked his chest, gently coaxing him to sleep.

*****

BAD END

Rick awoke to the sensation of something soft, thick, and wet around his cock. He stirred to see Mommy… her, sucking his cock softly and idly, dragging her thick lips up to lavishly lick around his head before swallowing down his entire length once more.

“Good morning my sweet boy…” she gasped, releasing his cock for just a moment.

Groaning, Rick tried to push his cock up into her mouth… but found he could barely move.

“There we go, nice and safe…” she said sweetly, and ran a hand across the thick green vine which now lay wrapped around his waist, preventing him from moving more than an inch or so.

His arms, legs, ankles, wrists, and even a loop around his neck left him able to do little more than squirm in place. His arms were held out to his sides, and his legs comfortably far apart, leaving him fully vulnerable to whatever his Mommy had in mind. Rick was now essentially embedded into the wall of their… her nest.

“Nice and hard for Mommy…” she cooed, now speaking directly to his cock, as she began to purse her lips tightly, dragging them up and down his shaft as her tongue snaked around it all the way up and down, spiralling and coiling like a slimy serpent.

“Mmmmfhhh… why… M…” he moaned, and looked up at her uncertainly through the haze of his waking arousal.

Maybe if he placated her, he reasoned, she could be reasoned with.

“M… Mommy…” he said softly, and she giggled around his cock, the vibrations or her wet mouth making his head swim.

“Yes sweetie?” she asked, licking his cock like the sweetest candy between her fingers as she did so.

“Why um… why can’t I move?”

“Oh…” she cooed, running her fingers down his legs and lovingly stroking the soft and spongy, yet quite firm vines that held him fast, “Mommy has to make sure her baby is nice and safe while she’s gone.”

“Gone?” he asked, squirming more as he sensed an opportunity.

“Don’t worry,” she soothed, even as her hand masturbated his cock at a jackrabbit pace, bringing him swiftly to the brink of orgasm, “Mommy won’t be gone too long. She just needs to get a few things for her new baby boy!”

Straining against his bonds, now more out of orgasmic tension, he felt her lips clamp around the head of his cock. She began to flutter her tongue back and forth directly over his slit in a way that made his eyes roll.

With a pop, however, she smacked her lips, pulling away just as he felt he was about to cum.

“I’ll be back very soon…” she whispered, drawing a single fingertip down the underside of his cock as she stared at it, and planted a single sloppy kiss atop his cockhead that was almsot enough to make him cum… but left him hanging tear-wrenchingly close to the edge instead.

She coaxed her nipple to a full erection and plunged it into his thirsty lips with little opposition. His stomach growled, and he suckled, even while sobbing streams of tears. He wept at how dependent he already felt on her, how she already seemed to have him wrapped around her finger.

All the while, her finger was wrapped delicately around his cock, as she danced a single fingertip around his cockhead, which wept in equal measure a steady stream of pre-cum.

“Don’t worry, sweetie…” she cooed, in mock ignorance of his need, “You’ll be nice and safe. Mommy’s feathers will keep you warm!”

Her finger left his cock, leaving it straining in the air as if begging for his Mommy's torturous touch to continue.

However, his eyes darted around him now as he saw that he was lying in a gap in the feathers, with a thick layer beneath him but the area around him having been cleared. Around him, a thick wall of her feathers had been made as a result, waiting to flood in but being kept apart by her wings.

“No, wait, Mommy! Wait!”

She ignored his panicked cry. As she took off, her wings propelling her up, the feathers in the nest swirled like a whirlwind, thousands tickling across his body simultaneously as he was trapped on the verge of cumming. Their torturous touches sent him writhing in blissful agony.

As his Mommy disappeared out of the nest, the sunlight above poured in, but feathers fell like snow, covering him slowly.

He squirmed, he cried, it tickled so much! He was so close to cumming! The feathers were everywhere, and every slight movement sent his overly-sensitive body into a fit of erotic and ticklish glee, which further made him squirm, and so the deadly cycle continued.

Eyes widening in fear, he watched as the feathers buried him entirely, leaving nothing uncovered apart from his straining cock, bobbing needily and jutting out of the layer of pink feathers, trying to thrust into them and yet finding them to be utterly tormenting.

They were so soft that they provided almost no friction to thrust against, just a horribly ticklish sensation, but just enough friction that his libido wouldn't rest. His cock couldn’t get soft when it was constantly being tickled like this! So unsatisfied, so needy, and yet he would be forced to wait for his new Mommy to return if he wanted to cum…

 

[Lil Junebug]

OMG this is so hot and exceptionally well-written. Are you a professonal writer? You could be. I want to trap someone in my venomous web right now and tickle them into oblivion! I can’t wait to read more if your work.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

OMG this is so hot and exceptionally well-written. Are you a professonal writer? You could be. I want to trap someone in my venomous web right now and tickle them into oblivion! I can’t wait to read more if your work.

Hey! Thanks so much for your kind comments. I do consider myself a professional erotica writer, but I'm always looking to improve even so. I'm so glad you enjoyed the story, plenty more to come in the future.

 

[mcgaming515]

i sure hope you stick around here and post more of those ^^

 

[mrwriterfromd]

i sure hope you stick around here and post more of those ^^

I plan to, thanks so much!

 

[GhostOS]

Ah, this amazing writing, I do hope you continue this series, and can't wait to find out what monster girl will be next to get her hands (or other appendages) on the protagonist! 🙂

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 6

[A continuation of Chapter 5’s Bad End]

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.

He cast a wary eye at the pink feathers which now closed in around him. Rick had begun to suspect he now had an answer to that old question.

‘Dating’.


The pages of this chapter were frayed and worn. He had read it before. Enough times, in fact, he could have quoted it word for word.

It was the picture he cared for most, though.

A guy, a girl, sat at a table. A candle burned, and they smiled. Her chin was in her hands, and he was drinking something red. The way she looked at him, smiled at him… it wasn’t just lust, or avarice. It was pure, strong… love.

The way Mommy looked at him.

No, he shut his eyes, forcing his palms into them to drive the thought back. She didn't love him like that. He wasn't her partner, he was her child… her pet. She wanted to keep him here forever.

Keep him safe.

Slowly, he shook his head. He wanted more than this. He had left to be free, and this was… just another cage.

Mommy gives you everything you need.

He let the book cover his face, the cool page a slight relief. In that picture he saw himself and Jessica, and what might have been. Prisoners, maybe, but at least they were together, sharing the same cell. Here he shared a cell with his jailor…

She would never have left, never have come with him… but if she had, he knew, she would just be trapped in this nest with him now. Dimly, he imagined Mommy… the woman calling herself his Mommy… would have only been delighted to have two babies to coddle and confine rather than just him.

Mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s baby boy.

His stomach groaned. For a moment he felt himself rolling to the side, eyes wandering back to her milky, leaky nipples, which had become the sole source of sustenance she gave him.

He stopped himself, arm frozen in the air, inches from those heaving bosoms of hers. He had been reaching for them, without even realising it. Was he insane? Why had he done that?

He was hungry. He wanted to suckle.

No. This was bad. A cold chill ran through him. He hadn’t even thought about it, that time. His body had just been acting on its own. He was running out of time.

Rick set the book aside atop her wing, and stared up, past her wing, at the moon… and the gap through which she came and went as she pleased. Climbing would be tough. He had tried. He might fail again… but he had to try.

For over an hour, he worked at the vine around his neck until it was loose. Pinching the far end so it wouldn’t accidentally tug at Mommy’s wrist, that left him just one hand to work with. It was so frustrating, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep working. A single mistake, a single pull of her wrist, and it would be over. She would instantly know what he had been doing…

At last, he slipped it over his head, an inch at a time, and slid free.

Slipping through her wings was surprisingly easy. They were, by design, incredibly soft and pliable. He shuffled out head first, but was forced, in order to crawl on his belly, to drag his now overly-sensitive and tired cock across her silky smooth wing… which left him with a raging erection that sent his heart racing.

That would have to wait, though, no matter how demanding his libido might be. Even if he had wanted to, which he admitted part of him did, his orgasms left him even more sensitive afterwards, a fact his Mommy… no his captor… was so delighted to take advantage of. Besides, he could swear his Mommy… no, he forced himself to think, his captor, could smell his arousal. Whenever he had attempted to relieve himself at night, she had inevitably been awoken, no matter how quiet he had tried to keep his sensitive squeals of pleasure.

The hardest part would not be making his way through the feathers that lined the floor of the nest, either. If he was slow enough then, while torturous, it was possible to do. No, the climb was always where he failed. Where he fell. Fell back into her feathers. Back into her arms.

Into Mommy’s loving embrace.

Rick steeled himself for the climb, the ordeal he knew was to come. His cock throbbed, and in the back of his mind, doubts swelled. As did his thirst…

He had to get out of there. Tonight. The feathers did their job, working into every crevice, and ensuring every move was as difficult as possible, but he climbed.

His breathing came ragged as, looking down, he saw he had barely climbed six feet from the tickly tide of feathers below. Reaching up, his armpit was exposed as he moved, and he winced. His sensitive nipples already ached from the constant feathering they had received. Not to mention his cock, feathers haf lapped at it tantalisingly, and it was practically begging for him to reach down and fuck his hand to his own doom. If he came… there was no way he’d be able to hold on, not to mention Mommy would no doubt be roused by his arousal…

Rick’s thighs, tensed from the climb and the ticklish sensations, were rendered all the more sensitive, and thus all the more ticklish. But his true weakness, as he had learned to his horror the day he had been captured, was his feet. Pressing his toes into the branches, he whimpered as quietly as he could. Finding purchase on the ticklish walls was a torture of its own.

As he climbed, though, he knew there would be less feathers as they thinned out. If he could just get a little higher, it would get easier… That was the only ray of hope that kept him going. That, and thoughts of…

He froze. The book! He’d left it on her wing! She would find it…

Not daring to look back, he swallowed, realising he had no choice now - he could never get back without her noticing. There was no way he could have carried the book with him, of course. His bag and his clothes were long since gone, shredded by her immense strength. That didn’t matter anymore. He was leaving now; tonight.

A particularly distracting feather ran its way down the seam of his inner thigh, and caught the back of his coin purse. For a moment, he felt himself choking on laughter, but managed to force it back down.

The effort of keeping his laughter in was almost as exhausting as climbing when his body was so tense, but he pushed on. Every step brought him closer to freedom, and every moment the incline of the ceiling raised slightly. Soon he was bent back, having to scale a wall angled back against himself.

Now, though, blessedly, the feathers had lessened in density to merely be harrowing rather than tormenting in their constant ticklish tirade against his taut body. He felt sluggish, though. His stomach rumbled again, and he felt his tongue lapping at a phantom nipple. Rick longed to have her teat seated between his lips again, forcing its way into his throat and feeding him her poisoned cream…

Shaking his head, he felt his cock pressing against his stomach at the thought of sucklint again, and with every heartbeat it pulsed and ached. The thought of nursing from Mommy again was all he could think about.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was so close, so close now. He could feel the whisper of the wind on his hands now, a taunting promise of the freedom that was now so close, just ,within his grasp.

Even so, he felt his grip slacken. His cock absolutely demanded that he stroke himself, NOW. Biting, he tried to marshall his thoughts, forcing down his libidinous desire to stroke his cock and damn himself, falling down into the fluffy prison just below from which he doubted Mommy would ever give him a chance to escape again after this…

As his hand clasped the interior of the exit, he struggled to pull himself up, sweat dripping from his body now with the effort. He could only pray those droplets didn’t touch Mommy, or she would snatch him away from his escape when it was so close…

Now, though, he felt cool air, and the warmth of the nest slowly pushing past him, creating a tiny air current. As he clung to the branches, he felt the feathers moving now… like dozens, no hundreds… thousands of tiny feathery fingers all over him.

Weeping, he tried to move, but felt his grip almost give way. Every sensitive part of his body was now under total assault from all sides as the tight tunnel exit’s feathers pressed in around him. It wasn’t fair! He was so close!

His cock sang with pure exasperation at the unsatisfying ticklish torment it was receiving, and every other ticklish little part of his body sympathised with it. His ears, his nose, his lips, his chin, his neck… down his chest, his nipples, his armpits, his sides… his stomach, his waist, his cock and his hips, his thighs and the backs of his knees and his utterly helplessly ticklish feet. Every inch of him was now subjected to the tiny minute movements of her feathers as the air flowed around him.

Helplessly, he giggled, but no longer cared. At this point he just wanted it to end, freedom or doom, anything but one second more of this torment. One finger slipped, then another. His body screamed. It tickled. A thousand spots were demanding he pull his hand away and protect them, if even for just a moment, from the ticklish assault. It prickled. It itched. It tickled, god did it tickle. He wanted to scratch every inch of himself as dozens of beads of sweat trickled down his body, either swept away by a tickly feather or dripping down his beet-red body.

His feet came loose, and his heart missed a beat, but his fingers clung on. He now hung, legs squirming in the air, hanging on to the opening of the nest.

So close… so close. His hand grasped flat ground, followed by the other. With just one last effort, he knew he could pull himself out of the ticklish tunnel, and freedom would be his.

He breathed, and tensed, ready to pull.

Only then did a thick pair of lips latched onto his cock, and such him inside her mouth. Mommy’s tongue was wild, squirming and writhing all over his dick, trapped between her wet, sausage-thick lips.

“Noooo!” he cried, trying to pull harder, but found his last strength waning as if she were sucking it out through his cock directly.

The lascivious wet noises of her mouth on his cock, hidden below the tunnel around him, were an assault upon his delicate mind almost as ruthless as the physical assault of her mouth on his cock. Both had one solitary goal, and his defences crumbled.

Rick had been so close to escape… but now he was far closer to a different kind of release. His hips thrust wildly in the air, humping into his Mommy’s wet mouth, as he felt another finger come loose.

She fluttered her tongue all over his head, while encouraging his thrusting motions by slamming her thick wet lips down to the base of his cock and sucking mightily to ensure that when he pulled his hips back her mouth clung to his cock as tightly as possible.

Shaking, shivering, he could hold on no longer, in both senses. His hands came free, and his Mommy’s arms enveloped him… down, down she sucked him, down into the nest.

Before, with a sickeningly wet plop, her mouth slurped free of his cock and left him teetering on the absolute knife’s edge of orgasm.

*****

Rick lay, shivering and weeping, as her piercing blue eyes poured into his. She laid him down on his back across her massively thick thigh, with his head facing her feet. His wrists had been roughly bound to the wall of the nest now, and he tugged at them mightily, desperate to stroke himself and bring himself over the edge, to attain the orgasm he so desperately wanted. It just wasn’t fair! He had been so close! Not only had his bid for freedom been robbed from him, but even his orgasm.

She clamped her other thigh atop his body, careful to ensure his cock could gain no friction from rubbing against it, leaving it throbbing needily in the air.

Her eyes never left his, though, staring at him over the thick mass of her thighs.

He whimpered. Those eyes were cold.

Inhuman.

“My baby boy… did you have a nice dream?” she asked, in an even tone.

He merely shivered, afraid to say or do anything. Even his raging desire to cum was hilted by that icy stare. Rick had seen this cool side of her before but… never like this.

“Did you have trouble sleeping? You could have just asked Mommy to help you sleep... Mommy was watching the whole time. Mommy is always watching.”

Every part of his body, save his cock, wilted at those words. She had seen the whole thing…

“You know…” Mommy mutely stated, “If my baby boy wanted his Mommy to read him a story… all he had to do was ask.”

She lifted the book in her other hand now… the page on ‘Dating’ still open.

Panicking now, he tried to croak out a thousand different apologies, but nothing came out save for a tiny squeak of terror.

“My silly boy… did he get funny ideas from reading this book?” She asked, head cocking slightly to the side as she stared at him.

He had thought it had been eerie when she always smiled. Now he wished more than anything she would smile like she had before.

“Well, if my baby boy can’t sleep… Mommy will just have to read his favourite book to him.” She spoke softly, mutely, her tone almost distant. It had none of the warmth or saccharine affection which had always dripped from it up until now.

Again, he wished she would go back to how she was before. This new side of her was chilling him.

“Let Mommy tell you what it says here…” she spoke, her voice taking on that same sing-song tone that had annoyed him before, but with her new demeanour gave him goosebumps. She took her eyes off him at last, and began to read from the book… or so she pantomimed.

“This chapter is called… Good Boys and their Mommies.”

He felt a shiver go up his spine.

“All good boys live with their Mommies. Some good boys live in a nest with their Mommy,” she began, and he felt her move one of her feet behind his head as if it were a pillow, “just like you.”

At that, she planted a single talon on the underside of his foot.

In horror, he held his breath.

“Good boys always do what their Mommy says…” as she began to speak, she circled her nail on the bottom of his foot, “and never ever think of disobeying her.”

Madly, he tugged at his bonds now, screaming with laughter as she immediately began to tickle his poor feet with pitiless efficiency. Yet they were embedded into her thick, pillowy thigh flesh so tightly they couldn’t move at all, save to squirm helplessly. His toes were pinned back between them, leaving his soles utterly taut and vulnerable.

“Good boys listen to their Mommy and obey.” She continued, not really moving her eyes as she ‘read’ from the page, but her talon scratched madly now. “They only think about Mommy.”

He cried, he wailed, but no matter how hard he laughed, her words always found their way into his ears.

“Some boys get silly ideas about leaving the nest, but good boys never leave the nest. They never ever want to leave their Mommies.”

She switched tactics now, digging her talons into the spaces between his toes, and he felt his breathing stop for a few moments before he screamed anew.

“Silly baby boys sometimes think they didn’t live in a nest before, but they’re just getting confused about their silly little dreams and thinking they’re real. No, good boys only think about, and dream about, their Mommy…”

“Nooohohohoho!” he managed to scream between bouts of hysteria.

She was relentless, both in her tickling, and her droning lecture.

“Good boys never want to leave the nest. They want to stay with Mommy forever, and her body makes special milk that makes it so they never ever want to leave…”

His heart skipped a beat before he went back to frantic squirming. He had been right. There was something in her milk, something special about it.

“Mommy’s milk makes their bodies very sensitive, so only Mommy’s special cuddles can keep them safe. It also helps good boys stop thinking silly thoughts, because good boys only think of Mommy.”

She spoke clearly, and evenly, eyes fixed on him now, not even bothering to pretend to read.

“Good boys know they only exist to suck Mommy’s nipples, drink her milk, and laugh like a good little boy so Mommy knows how happy they are.” She paid vicious attention to the pad just below his toes now. “They only exist to fuck Mommy, to cum for mommy, to make Mommy happy… and Mommy will make her good boy very happy.”

He gritted his teeth, determined not to give her the satisfaction of laughing like the child she wanted him to be. That only lasted a few seconds, forever, once she began to use both hands, resting the book in her cleavage. Clawing at his feet madly now she began honing in on all his weakest and most ticklish spots, and he felt his laughter come out in breathless, ragged coughs.

“Some silly baby boys have very silly ideas… about loving anyone other than their Mommy.” She spoke, glancing down at the book spread open across her titanic cleavage. “They think their silly dreams about other girls are real, but they’re not. Baby boys belong with their Mommy.”

“It dohohohoesn’t say thaaaaat!” he groaned, her cloying words leaving a lump in his throat as the true depths of her depravity were made clear.

“Oh, baby boy, look right here! There’s a picture…” she said, ignoring his defiant cry, and with that she lifted the book up and turned it around to be facing him, leaning closer to let him see, holding it directly in front of his face. Now she was only softly tickling his foot, and he choked back tears, just about able to focus. It was the picture of the guy and girl dating… the one he had left open.

“See? It’s a picture of what some silly boys think is outside the nest. They think there’s other people out there to fall in love with. But…”

She lowered the book now, and her cold, blue eyes pierced into his very soul in the dim moonlight.

“Good boys… only… love… Mommy.”

Her smile returned at last, wide and beaming. He had wanted her to smile before. He had been wishing she would smile again. Now he knew he had been wrong.

Rick truly panicked then. He tried to stutter out an apology and beg all at once, but she simply laid her other foot across his mouth, silencing any further protests.

Now Mommy was truly merciless.

Mommy’s fingers scrabbled across his soles so quickly he couldn’t tell where one touch ended and another began. They blended together into a single unbearable sensation. Mommy’s claws practically reached through his feet, through his nerves, directly into whichever part of his brain was responsible for feeling ticklishness and sank her talons into it directly.

Instantly he felt his vision blur, and it became difficult to hear anything as the sound of his own muffled screams was drowned out by the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears.

Ticklish agony became his entire existence. He was now just a nervous system which existed purely to experience tickling. His arousal had been forgotten amidst her chilling tirade, but now returned with avengeance as his body was flooded with countless sensations, and his mind struggled to differentiate between pleasure and torture.

Rick was pushed to the brink of total insanity, and then she simply kept on going, with no intention of stopping. Mommy’s fingers didn’t stop. When he felt himself losing his mind he realised that simply meant there were more parts of it to lose, and she just kept tickling him.

Mommy’s brutal tickling dug into his soles and in doing so his soul, clawing away any semblance of self with feathery light touches which were regardless had devastating impacts upon his psyche. Desperate squeals were all that escaped his nose, anything he could have attempted to say was lost amidst the peals of laughter smothered by her sole across his lips.

Mommy wasn’t done, though. She released his feet and held them firm in her hands, clawing her nails across them as she did so… just as her wings began to force her feathers between his toes. Ruthlessly, they sawed between his splayed digits, and he simply lost all control.

It was beyond excruciating. It was beyond feeling. Beyond sensation. It was as if tickling could not describe it, as if she were transcribing her own thoughts over his sense of self directly through her ticklish torment.

His hips bucked and jolted, and then, at last, he felt her hand clasp around his cock.

Through the tempest of sensation, he felt one hand on his cock seeking to wipe his mind clean with pleasure, as the other sought to erase his mind through tickling, and between the two he heard her voice.

“Cum for Mommy.”

As brutal as her tickling, now, was her milking of his utterly defenceless cock. He just couldn’t handle such an onslaught of overwhelming sensations.

“Cum for Mommy.”

It was a command.

“CUM FOR MOMMY.”

He obeyed.

His long denied cock throbbed and squirted in Mommy’s grip, but she didn’t slow for an instant. Her slippery fingers milked his cock non-stop, as his orgasm simply grew and grew in intensity. The tickling didn’t let up for even a moment. She forced him to higher and higher planes of ecstasy… and didn’t stop.

The tickling didn’t stop. Her milking didn’t stop.

He felt his body tensing and flexing helplessly, while screaming and pleading into the foot she was gagging him with. If she could have heard him, she would have heard his pleas for her to stop tickling him change to pleas for her to stop stroking his cock. She had no intentions of ceasing either.

Unable to relax at all under her combined ticklish handjob assault, his pleasure merely plateaued. It never dipped below the near peak it had reached, and soon he felt the excruciating over-sensitivity give way to the imminent and far-too-swift return of a second orgasm.

“Cum for Mommy.” She demanded once more, and he obeyed.

His balls tightened and retracted within their coin purse and a second, even more strenuous orgasm wracked through his trapped body.

She didn’t stop. Her hands kept moving. Her wings kept up their merciless agonising work.

Rick felt his last finger-hold on sanity slip away as the last string within his mind simply snapped.

*****

It was late in the day when he finally woke. Mommy was cuddling him.

“Good morning, my sweet baby boy,” Mommy cooed softly to him.

“G-good morning, Mommy.” Came his obedient reply.

He was jittery, as always. Jumping at every tiny tickle on his now ludicrously sensitive body. Softly, gently, Mommy ran her nails across his stomach, eliciting tiny giggles from him, which delighted her to no end.

In her taloned hand she held his old book, and he stared between it and her, heart racing, wondering if she felt the need to reinforce the lessons she had driven home so clearly before.

“I better put this book away somewhere my good boy can’t find it. He gets so confused when he reads it…”

At that, she leaned over and kissed him, passionately, leaving his head spinning and - as always - his needy cock throbbing.

“He just needs Mommy to read it for him, to make sure he doesn’t get confused, doesn’t he? She can tell him what all the big words say…”

She fixed him with her blue eyes, smiling broadly.

“Mommy can tell her good boy what to think, can’t she?”

Pausing for a moment, she let her finger trail down the underside of his cock, as if waiting for him to voice any objections. Predictably, none came. Now she sported a toothy grin.

“Is my good boy thirsty?”

He swallowed, his throat feeling so dry… and his breasts were attracting his eyes with their protruding promise of relief, and yet…

Noticing his delay, she skittered her nails across his nipple.

“Ah! Yes! Yes, please, feed me Mommy!” he moaned, his nipple a lightning rod to her ticklish attentions.

“Good boy…” she said in that sappy, sweet voice she reserved only for when he submitted to her whims.

As she stroked her thick nipple idly, she cupped his chin possessively with the other hand and ran a finger across his lips. He meekly parted them, long having abandoned any hope of resisting her desires, letting her slip a finger in between them.

She slid her finger in and out of his mouth, covetously, and then slid it out to tickle under his chin.

“Such a good boy for Mommy. Mommy always knows what’s best for her little boy…”

She thrust her throbbing nipple between his lips, and groaned in delight as he began to suckle...

Obediently.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 6

[A continuation of Chapter 5’s Bad End]

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.

He cast a wary eye at the pink feathers which now closed in around him. Rick had begun to suspect he now had an answer to that old question.

‘Dating’.


The pages of this chapter were frayed and worn. He had read it before. Enough times, in fact, he could have quoted it word for word.

It was the picture he cared for most, though.

A guy, a girl, sat at a table. A candle burned, and they smiled. Her chin was in her hands, and he was drinking something red. The way she looked at him, smiled at him… it wasn’t just lust, or avarice. It was pure, strong… love.

The way Mommy looked at him.

No, he shut his eyes, forcing his palms into them to drive the thought back. She didn't love him like that. He wasn't her partner, he was her child… her pet. She wanted to keep him here forever.

Keep him safe.

Slowly, he shook his head. He wanted more than this. He had left to be free, and this was… just another cage.

Mommy gives you everything you need.

He let the book cover his face, the cool page a slight relief. In that picture he saw himself and Jessica, and what might have been. Prisoners, maybe, but at least they were together, sharing the same cell. Here he shared a cell with his jailor…

She would never have left, never have come with him… but if she had, he knew, she would just be trapped in this nest with him now. Dimly, he imagined Mommy… the woman calling herself his Mommy… would have only been delighted to have two babies to coddle and confine rather than just him.

Mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s baby boy.

His stomach groaned. For a moment he felt himself rolling to the side, eyes wandering back to her milky, leaky nipples, which had become the sole source of sustenance she gave him.

He stopped himself, arm frozen in the air, inches from those heaving bosoms of hers. He had been reaching for them, without even realising it. Was he insane? Why had he done that?

He was hungry. He wanted to suckle.

No. This was bad. A cold chill ran through him. He hadn’t even thought about it, that time. His body had just been acting on its own. He was running out of time.

Rick set the book aside atop her wing, and stared up, past her wing, at the moon… and the gap through which she came and went as she pleased. Climbing would be tough. He had tried. He might fail again… but he had to try.

For over an hour, he worked at the vine around his neck until it was loose. Pinching the far end so it wouldn’t accidentally tug at Mommy’s wrist, that left him just one hand to work with. It was so frustrating, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep working. A single mistake, a single pull of her wrist, and it would be over. She would instantly know what he had been doing…

At last, he slipped it over his head, an inch at a time, and slid free.

Slipping through her wings was surprisingly easy. They were, by design, incredibly soft and pliable. He shuffled out head first, but was forced, in order to crawl on his belly, to drag his now overly-sensitive and tired cock across her silky smooth wing… which left him with a raging erection that sent his heart racing.

That would have to wait, though, no matter how demanding his libido might be. Even if he had wanted to, which he admitted part of him did, his orgasms left him even more sensitive afterwards, a fact his Mommy… no his captor… was so delighted to take advantage of. Besides, he could swear his Mommy… no, he forced himself to think, his captor, could smell his arousal. Whenever he had attempted to relieve himself at night, she had inevitably been awoken, no matter how quiet he had tried to keep his sensitive squeals of pleasure.

The hardest part would not be making his way through the feathers that lined the floor of the nest, either. If he was slow enough then, while torturous, it was possible to do. No, the climb was always where he failed. Where he fell. Fell back into her feathers. Back into her arms.

Into Mommy’s loving embrace.

Rick steeled himself for the climb, the ordeal he knew was to come. His cock throbbed, and in the back of his mind, doubts swelled. As did his thirst…

He had to get out of there. Tonight. The feathers did their job, working into every crevice, and ensuring every move was as difficult as possible, but he climbed.

His breathing came ragged as, looking down, he saw he had barely climbed six feet from the tickly tide of feathers below. Reaching up, his armpit was exposed as he moved, and he winced. His sensitive nipples already ached from the constant feathering they had received. Not to mention his cock, feathers haf lapped at it tantalisingly, and it was practically begging for him to reach down and fuck his hand to his own doom. If he came… there was no way he’d be able to hold on, not to mention Mommy would no doubt be roused by his arousal…

Rick’s thighs, tensed from the climb and the ticklish sensations, were rendered all the more sensitive, and thus all the more ticklish. But his true weakness, as he had learned to his horror the day he had been captured, was his feet. Pressing his toes into the branches, he whimpered as quietly as he could. Finding purchase on the ticklish walls was a torture of its own.

As he climbed, though, he knew there would be less feathers as they thinned out. If he could just get a little higher, it would get easier… That was the only ray of hope that kept him going. That, and thoughts of…

He froze. The book! He’d left it on her wing! She would find it…

Not daring to look back, he swallowed, realising he had no choice now - he could never get back without her noticing. There was no way he could have carried the book with him, of course. His bag and his clothes were long since gone, shredded by her immense strength. That didn’t matter anymore. He was leaving now; tonight.

A particularly distracting feather ran its way down the seam of his inner thigh, and caught the back of his coin purse. For a moment, he felt himself choking on laughter, but managed to force it back down.

The effort of keeping his laughter in was almost as exhausting as climbing when his body was so tense, but he pushed on. Every step brought him closer to freedom, and every moment the incline of the ceiling raised slightly. Soon he was bent back, having to scale a wall angled back against himself.

Now, though, blessedly, the feathers had lessened in density to merely be harrowing rather than tormenting in their constant ticklish tirade against his taut body. He felt sluggish, though. His stomach rumbled again, and he felt his tongue lapping at a phantom nipple. Rick longed to have her teat seated between his lips again, forcing its way into his throat and feeding him her poisoned cream…

Shaking his head, he felt his cock pressing against his stomach at the thought of sucklint again, and with every heartbeat it pulsed and ached. The thought of nursing from Mommy again was all he could think about.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was so close, so close now. He could feel the whisper of the wind on his hands now, a taunting promise of the freedom that was now so close, just ,within his grasp.

Even so, he felt his grip slacken. His cock absolutely demanded that he stroke himself, NOW. Biting, he tried to marshall his thoughts, forcing down his libidinous desire to stroke his cock and damn himself, falling down into the fluffy prison just below from which he doubted Mommy would ever give him a chance to escape again after this…

As his hand clasped the interior of the exit, he struggled to pull himself up, sweat dripping from his body now with the effort. He could only pray those droplets didn’t touch Mommy, or she would snatch him away from his escape when it was so close…

Now, though, he felt cool air, and the warmth of the nest slowly pushing past him, creating a tiny air current. As he clung to the branches, he felt the feathers moving now… like dozens, no hundreds… thousands of tiny feathery fingers all over him.

Weeping, he tried to move, but felt his grip almost give way. Every sensitive part of his body was now under total assault from all sides as the tight tunnel exit’s feathers pressed in around him. It wasn’t fair! He was so close!

His cock sang with pure exasperation at the unsatisfying ticklish torment it was receiving, and every other ticklish little part of his body sympathised with it. His ears, his nose, his lips, his chin, his neck… down his chest, his nipples, his armpits, his sides… his stomach, his waist, his cock and his hips, his thighs and the backs of his knees and his utterly helplessly ticklish feet. Every inch of him was now subjected to the tiny minute movements of her feathers as the air flowed around him.

Helplessly, he giggled, but no longer cared. At this point he just wanted it to end, freedom or doom, anything but one second more of this torment. One finger slipped, then another. His body screamed. It tickled. A thousand spots were demanding he pull his hand away and protect them, if even for just a moment, from the ticklish assault. It prickled. It itched. It tickled, god did it tickle. He wanted to scratch every inch of himself as dozens of beads of sweat trickled down his body, either swept away by a tickly feather or dripping down his beet-red body.

His feet came loose, and his heart missed a beat, but his fingers clung on. He now hung, legs squirming in the air, hanging on to the opening of the nest.

So close… so close. His hand grasped flat ground, followed by the other. With just one last effort, he knew he could pull himself out of the ticklish tunnel, and freedom would be his.

He breathed, and tensed, ready to pull.

Only then did a thick pair of lips latched onto his cock, and such him inside her mouth. Mommy’s tongue was wild, squirming and writhing all over his dick, trapped between her wet, sausage-thick lips.

“Noooo!” he cried, trying to pull harder, but found his last strength waning as if she were sucking it out through his cock directly.

The lascivious wet noises of her mouth on his cock, hidden below the tunnel around him, were an assault upon his delicate mind almost as ruthless as the physical assault of her mouth on his cock. Both had one solitary goal, and his defences crumbled.

Rick had been so close to escape… but now he was far closer to a different kind of release. His hips thrust wildly in the air, humping into his Mommy’s wet mouth, as he felt another finger come loose.

She fluttered her tongue all over his head, while encouraging his thrusting motions by slamming her thick wet lips down to the base of his cock and sucking mightily to ensure that when he pulled his hips back her mouth clung to his cock as tightly as possible.

Shaking, shivering, he could hold on no longer, in both senses. His hands came free, and his Mommy’s arms enveloped him… down, down she sucked him, down into the nest.

Before, with a sickeningly wet plop, her mouth slurped free of his cock and left him teetering on the absolute knife’s edge of orgasm.

*****

Rick lay, shivering and weeping, as her piercing blue eyes poured into his. She laid him down on his back across her massively thick thigh, with his head facing her feet. His wrists had been roughly bound to the wall of the nest now, and he tugged at them mightily, desperate to stroke himself and bring himself over the edge, to attain the orgasm he so desperately wanted. It just wasn’t fair! He had been so close! Not only had his bid for freedom been robbed from him, but even his orgasm.

She clamped her other thigh atop his body, careful to ensure his cock could gain no friction from rubbing against it, leaving it throbbing needily in the air.

Her eyes never left his, though, staring at him over the thick mass of her thighs.

He whimpered. Those eyes were cold.

Inhuman.

“My baby boy… did you have a nice dream?” she asked, in an even tone.

He merely shivered, afraid to say or do anything. Even his raging desire to cum was hilted by that icy stare. Rick had seen this cool side of her before but… never like this.

“Did you have trouble sleeping? You could have just asked Mommy to help you sleep... Mommy was watching the whole time. Mommy is always watching.”

Every part of his body, save his cock, wilted at those words. She had seen the whole thing…

“You know…” Mommy mutely stated, “If my baby boy wanted his Mommy to read him a story… all he had to do was ask.”

She lifted the book in her other hand now… the page on ‘Dating’ still open.

Panicking now, he tried to croak out a thousand different apologies, but nothing came out save for a tiny squeak of terror.

“My silly boy… did he get funny ideas from reading this book?” She asked, head cocking slightly to the side as she stared at him.

He had thought it had been eerie when she always smiled. Now he wished more than anything she would smile like she had before.

“Well, if my baby boy can’t sleep… Mommy will just have to read his favourite book to him.” She spoke softly, mutely, her tone almost distant. It had none of the warmth or saccharine affection which had always dripped from it up until now.

Again, he wished she would go back to how she was before. This new side of her was chilling him.

“Let Mommy tell you what it says here…” she spoke, her voice taking on that same sing-song tone that had annoyed him before, but with her new demeanour gave him goosebumps. She took her eyes off him at last, and began to read from the book… or so she pantomimed.

“This chapter is called… Good Boys and their Mommies.”

He felt a shiver go up his spine.

“All good boys live with their Mommies. Some good boys live in a nest with their Mommy,” she began, and he felt her move one of her feet behind his head as if it were a pillow, “just like you.”

At that, she planted a single talon on the underside of his foot.

In horror, he held his breath.

“Good boys always do what their Mommy says…” as she began to speak, she circled her nail on the bottom of his foot, “and never ever think of disobeying her.”

Madly, he tugged at his bonds now, screaming with laughter as she immediately began to tickle his poor feet with pitiless efficiency. Yet they were embedded into her thick, pillowy thigh flesh so tightly they couldn’t move at all, save to squirm helplessly. His toes were pinned back between them, leaving his soles utterly taut and vulnerable.

“Good boys listen to their Mommy and obey.” She continued, not really moving her eyes as she ‘read’ from the page, but her talon scratched madly now. “They only think about Mommy.”

He cried, he wailed, but no matter how hard he laughed, her words always found their way into his ears.

“Some boys get silly ideas about leaving the nest, but good boys never leave the nest. They never ever want to leave their Mommies.”

She switched tactics now, digging her talons into the spaces between his toes, and he felt his breathing stop for a few moments before he screamed anew.

“Silly baby boys sometimes think they didn’t live in a nest before, but they’re just getting confused about their silly little dreams and thinking they’re real. No, good boys only think about, and dream about, their Mommy…”

“Nooohohohoho!” he managed to scream between bouts of hysteria.

She was relentless, both in her tickling, and her droning lecture.

“Good boys never want to leave the nest. They want to stay with Mommy forever, and her body makes special milk that makes it so they never ever want to leave…”

His heart skipped a beat before he went back to frantic squirming. He had been right. There was something in her milk, something special about it.

“Mommy’s milk makes their bodies very sensitive, so only Mommy’s special cuddles can keep them safe. It also helps good boys stop thinking silly thoughts, because good boys only think of Mommy.”

She spoke clearly, and evenly, eyes fixed on him now, not even bothering to pretend to read.

“Good boys know they only exist to suck Mommy’s nipples, drink her milk, and laugh like a good little boy so Mommy knows how happy they are.” She paid vicious attention to the pad just below his toes now. “They only exist to fuck Mommy, to cum for mommy, to make Mommy happy… and Mommy will make her good boy very happy.”

He gritted his teeth, determined not to give her the satisfaction of laughing like the child she wanted him to be. That only lasted a few seconds, forever, once she began to use both hands, resting the book in her cleavage. Clawing at his feet madly now she began honing in on all his weakest and most ticklish spots, and he felt his laughter come out in breathless, ragged coughs.

“Some silly baby boys have very silly ideas… about loving anyone other than their Mommy.” She spoke, glancing down at the book spread open across her titanic cleavage. “They think their silly dreams about other girls are real, but they’re not. Baby boys belong with their Mommy.”

“It dohohohoesn’t say thaaaaat!” he groaned, her cloying words leaving a lump in his throat as the true depths of her depravity were made clear.

“Oh, baby boy, look right here! There’s a picture…” she said, ignoring his defiant cry, and with that she lifted the book up and turned it around to be facing him, leaning closer to let him see, holding it directly in front of his face. Now she was only softly tickling his foot, and he choked back tears, just about able to focus. It was the picture of the guy and girl dating… the one he had left open.

“See? It’s a picture of what some silly boys think is outside the nest. They think there’s other people out there to fall in love with. But…”

She lowered the book now, and her cold, blue eyes pierced into his very soul in the dim moonlight.

“Good boys… only… love… Mommy.”

Her smile returned at last, wide and beaming. He had wanted her to smile before. He had been wishing she would smile again. Now he knew he had been wrong.

Rick truly panicked then. He tried to stutter out an apology and beg all at once, but she simply laid her other foot across his mouth, silencing any further protests.

Now Mommy was truly merciless.

Mommy’s fingers scrabbled across his soles so quickly he couldn’t tell where one touch ended and another began. They blended together into a single unbearable sensation. Mommy’s claws practically reached through his feet, through his nerves, directly into whichever part of his brain was responsible for feeling ticklishness and sank her talons into it directly.

Instantly he felt his vision blur, and it became difficult to hear anything as the sound of his own muffled screams was drowned out by the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears.

Ticklish agony became his entire existence. He was now just a nervous system which existed purely to experience tickling. His arousal had been forgotten amidst her chilling tirade, but now returned with avengeance as his body was flooded with countless sensations, and his mind struggled to differentiate between pleasure and torture.

Rick was pushed to the brink of total insanity, and then she simply kept on going, with no intention of stopping. Mommy’s fingers didn’t stop. When he felt himself losing his mind he realised that simply meant there were more parts of it to lose, and she just kept tickling him.

Mommy’s brutal tickling dug into his soles and in doing so his soul, clawing away any semblance of self with feathery light touches which were regardless had devastating impacts upon his psyche. Desperate squeals were all that escaped his nose, anything he could have attempted to say was lost amidst the peals of laughter smothered by her sole across his lips.

Mommy wasn’t done, though. She released his feet and held them firm in her hands, clawing her nails across them as she did so… just as her wings began to force her feathers between his toes. Ruthlessly, they sawed between his splayed digits, and he simply lost all control.

It was beyond excruciating. It was beyond feeling. Beyond sensation. It was as if tickling could not describe it, as if she were transcribing her own thoughts over his sense of self directly through her ticklish torment.

His hips bucked and jolted, and then, at last, he felt her hand clasp around his cock.

Through the tempest of sensation, he felt one hand on his cock seeking to wipe his mind clean with pleasure, as the other sought to erase his mind through tickling, and between the two he heard her voice.

“Cum for Mommy.”

As brutal as her tickling, now, was her milking of his utterly defenceless cock. He just couldn’t handle such an onslaught of overwhelming sensations.

“Cum for Mommy.”

It was a command.

“CUM FOR MOMMY.”

He obeyed.

His long denied cock throbbed and squirted in Mommy’s grip, but she didn’t slow for an instant. Her slippery fingers milked his cock non-stop, as his orgasm simply grew and grew in intensity. The tickling didn’t let up for even a moment. She forced him to higher and higher planes of ecstasy… and didn’t stop.

The tickling didn’t stop. Her milking didn’t stop.

He felt his body tensing and flexing helplessly, while screaming and pleading into the foot she was gagging him with. If she could have heard him, she would have heard his pleas for her to stop tickling him change to pleas for her to stop stroking his cock. She had no intentions of ceasing either.

Unable to relax at all under her combined ticklish handjob assault, his pleasure merely plateaued. It never dipped below the near peak it had reached, and soon he felt the excruciating over-sensitivity give way to the imminent and far-too-swift return of a second orgasm.

“Cum for Mommy.” She demanded once more, and he obeyed.

His balls tightened and retracted within their coin purse and a second, even more strenuous orgasm wracked through his trapped body.

She didn’t stop. Her hands kept moving. Her wings kept up their merciless agonising work.

Rick felt his last finger-hold on sanity slip away as the last string within his mind simply snapped.

*****

It was late in the day when he finally woke. Mommy was cuddling him.

“Good morning, my sweet baby boy,” Mommy cooed softly to him.

“G-good morning, Mommy.” Came his obedient reply.

He was jittery, as always. Jumping at every tiny tickle on his now ludicrously sensitive body. Softly, gently, Mommy ran her nails across his stomach, eliciting tiny giggles from him, which delighted her to no end.

In her taloned hand she held his old book, and he stared between it and her, heart racing, wondering if she felt the need to reinforce the lessons she had driven home so clearly before.

“I better put this book away somewhere my good boy can’t find it. He gets so confused when he reads it…”

At that, she leaned over and kissed him, passionately, leaving his head spinning and - as always - his needy cock throbbing.

“He just needs Mommy to read it for him, to make sure he doesn’t get confused, doesn’t he? She can tell him what all the big words say…”

She fixed him with her blue eyes, smiling broadly.

“Mommy can tell her good boy what to think, can’t she?”

Pausing for a moment, she let her finger trail down the underside of his cock, as if waiting for him to voice any objections. Predictably, none came. Now she sported a toothy grin.

“Is my good boy thirsty?”

He swallowed, his throat feeling so dry… and his breasts were attracting his eyes with their protruding promise of relief, and yet…

Noticing his delay, she skittered her nails across his nipple.

“Ah! Yes! Yes, please, feed me Mommy!” he moaned, his nipple a lightning rod to her ticklish attentions.

“Good boy…” she said in that sappy, sweet voice she reserved only for when he submitted to her whims.

As she stroked her thick nipple idly, she cupped his chin possessively with the other hand and ran a finger across his lips. He meekly parted them, long having abandoned any hope of resisting her desires, letting her slip a finger in between them.

She slid her finger in and out of his mouth, covetously, and then slid it out to tickle under his chin.

“Such a good boy for Mommy. Mommy always knows what’s best for her little boy…”

She thrust her throbbing nipple between his lips, and groaned in delight as he began to suckle...

Obediently.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 7
Rick couldn’t help but feel downtrodden. It had been two weeks now since he had left the safety of the city walls, and in all that time he had yet to find… Well, whatever it was he was looking for. As the cracked road turned to dirt path , he paid it little heed. The next mile looked as if it would be little different from the last hundred.

He found it difficult to care as he had before about the occasional crumbling building dotting the side of the road. Was it loneliness? He thought about it as he put one foot in front of the other mechanically, trudging down what was once a road teeming with life.

No, he admitted to himself, it was closer to disillusionment. Was this really it? This was all there was to be found outside the walls? He knew it was dangerous, patrols didn’t always arrive on time… sometimes not at all. Yet he hadn’t seen any reason why. Not only was there little of value to be found, neither was there any danger, save for the tedious boredom of endless walking.

He peered for a moment through the cracked window of what had once, he assumed, been a place for vehicles to stop. A “Fuel Stop”, according to the book he kept with him in spite of his disenchantment. The large overhang and collection of rusting ancient wheeled hulls told him as much. However, compared to the smiling people and sunny day in the pictures provided, reality was anything but. Not that Rick had expected to find life existing as it once was outside the walls, but he had expected… well, more than this.

He scarcely needed to look around to know there was nothing for him here. As his trudging steps continued that thought lingered. There was thus far nothing out here in the rest of the world of value, at least given what he’d seen in his weeks-long exploration. Part of him was beginning to accept that it might be a good idea to go back, no matter what the consequences might be.

The wild took over once more as the brief stint of walking past now-forgotten civilization was truly lost. The dirt path was a scarce break in the endless trees and bushes which seemed to have sprung up in humanity’s absence. For short stretches he had to push through undergrowth just to find the path again, sometimes having to trace his way back multiple times.

It was obvious nobody had been down here in some time… or at least if they had, they hadn’t come back. Miles passed, and he kept trudging on. Maybe the road would open back up, and maybe it wouldn’t. A rather sorrowful part of him no longer cared either way.

Branches and vines grew thicker and clogged his path, tugging at his clothing incessantly, until he was fighting for every step. Indeed, only now did he begin to see a break in the endless bush… several massive, colourful, extremely fragrant flowers.

Indeed, he felt his head grow a little fuzzy at the heady odour emanating from the massive and shockingly emblazoned petals. He had never seen such large flowers before, wide enough he was sure he could have easily laid atop a single petal of one of the flowers with room to spare on all sides.

He felt himself growing a little dizzy, in fact, and forced himself to move on, pushing into the plant life ahead. Being in such close proximity to these plants was hardly a good idea if it was already getting to him, he surmised. Yet as he did so his hand made contact with one bush, only to pull back in shock at a wet and slimy sensation.

A pearlescent, sticky amber string now connected his hand to the leaves, and he tugged at it instinctually. His concern only grew as he realised just how tough it was to pull his hand free, as the substance was quite glutinous. As he hurriedly wiped it off, he felt his hand begin to tingle, and felt a flush of panic… only for the smell of it to finally hit him. It was like the flowers before, only much more concentrated. The heady scent soon had his mind awash, and idly, he couldn’t help but bring his hand up to inhale it closer.

“Whoa…” he murmured. It smelled incredible. Like sugar… no… he knew that smell from somewhere…

Morbid curiosity got the better of him as, despite his better judgement, he lifted a fingertip to his lips and tasted it.

It was incredible. He wasn’t sure if it was two weeks of rations and a starved palette that was sending his taste buds wild, but either way, it was easily the best thing he had ever tasted. Better than anything he had ever had. Hungrily, he licked his hand clean, before moving on to the thick matter which now coated his shirt.

He silenced his greedy licks, however, when he heard far louder cries nearby, and hunkered down to hide amidst the greenery. Slowly, carefully, he picked his way through the branches, placing his feet deliberately so as not to give away his position. Even so, he winced at every branch cracking or leaf crunching underfoot.

The sight which met his eyes was truly incredible.

Nestled amidst the blanket-length petals of a massive flower, two equally proportionally massive women were embraced in what was undoubtedly an erotic coupling. Indeed, if their bodies writhing and undulating hadn’t given it away, the utterly lurid moans would have.

As he stared he couldn’t help but feel his face flushing, as if the heat of their passions was radiating like a fire. One woman lay atop the other, holding her close in ways that were sending his mind into a spin after two weeks of solitude. Not that he had ever seen women like these two before. Indeed so shocked was he that it took quite a few moments before realising these large women were… unusual.

The first oddity was that their skin was far from a typical shade. The girl on top had a pale yellow hue, with absurdly thick hips and an impressive bust, each breast easily dwarfing Rick’s own head. Long, thick legs were clad in what looked like brown, silvery hosiery… yet the longer he stared at those colossally thick legs enwrapping the girl beneath her, the more convinced he became that the sleek sheen was a product of her own skin.

Her proportions were only outmatched by those of the girl beneath who, if anything, sported assets which only dwarfed those of the golden girl above her. Her skin was by contrast tinged green, including - from what he could see - a bust to rival even the most outlandish of adolescent fantasies. While her thighs were slimmer, each of her breasts was easily as large as Rick was wide. With such stunning measurements as to practically swallow up the girl laying atop her, Rick’s gaze followed her legs down to see that - oddly - they terminated somewhere within the base of the flower the two were merrily humping atop of, and must have sunk into the ground…

Still, he found it difficult to linger on such small oddities when the smell from before was utterly mystifying now, leaving the air feeling rich. Indeed, looking down, he began to see why. Thick amber slime coated the branch he was clinging to, yet he hadn’t even noticed it. Once more, his palm was tingling where the sticky sap remained. Idly, he tried to wipe it off, unwilling to take his eyes off of the near-incomprehensible collision of wet and dripping female mass just scant feet from where he lay.

The yellow woman was grinding herself against the digits of the green woman beneath her, and seemed to be returning the favour. Their orgiastic cries were bringing his ears to a boil as he realised, slightly shamefully, that he was ogling their copulation. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to look away… and indeed, the throbbing between his legs and tightness against his cloth made it all the harder to do so.

Their moans grew to shrieks of erotic passion as their libidos flourished, climax seemingly rushing towards them both. Indeed the crescendo of their moans made him recoil slightly in shock, as he was practically hit by shockwaves from the sheer sexual energy being unleashed.

For a long time, the pair merely lay in each others arms, heaving and caressing one another. Their bodies were shiny, slick with sweat… and, he realised, something else. The same substance coating his hand…

With a long, lavish kiss, two pairs of sausage-thick lips smacked wetly and luridly until, begrudgingly, the yellow girl pulled herself free. Giggling, the green girl clung to her arm, but with a kiss to the hand, they parted.

“I’d love to stay, but the hive needs me.” The yellow girl said, almost forlorn.

“Don’t be a stranger…” The massive, green girl cooed, tracing a hand down her plump stomach and sending mountainous green-tinged breasts into a shiver.

Each of the girls’ pendulous breasts were now leaking thick, slimy syrup… Looking at his hand, and then to the girls in front of him, he realised at last what he had been eating so greedily before…

Yet his body didn’t care. Where his mind reeled, his stomach cried out. That stuff tasted better than anything he’d ever had… and he wanted more.

*****

The yellow girl had to be eight feet tall, Rick realised. Truly she was a daunting and imposing figure. Yet it had done little to dissuade him from following her. Quite the opposite.

For a moment he thought of turning back, of retracing his steps back to where he’d come from and forgetting what he’d seen. Yet his stomach groaned… his body yearned for more of that amber ambrosia. Just the smell of it still lingering on him made him drool slightly. He had to have more. Maybe he could find some and sneak away…

He pulled back a ways before circling around the clearing in which the green girl and her flower-bed had lain. Rick had no intentions of getting caught, especially when they might recognise that he had been ogling their none-too-private congress. However, judging by the smell that she left in her wake, it was clear that wherever the yellow girl was going, there would be more of that amber gold.

Silent as he could, he followed behind her. It wasn’t difficult to keep track of her, as even if her heavenly scent hadn’t embedded into everything she passed, there was a literal trail of dripping amber to follow. For a while he resisted, but it was hopeless. Eventually he couldn’t help but sampling it as he went. Soon he was stopping every time he found some to lick the leaves clean.

Part of him reeled at his choice to follow her, to swallow… whatever it was. It was insane! Yet he pressed on. He didn’t care how, but he absolutely had to have more of that delicious stuff. Every time he thought about it his cock throbbed.

As he saw a break in the treeline approaching, he stuck to the shadows, even as he saw the yellow girl stepping out into the sunshine and stretching her body in ways his budding libido found truly delightful. For a moment, just a moment, he thought he saw her looking back his way… but then the moment was gone, and he was sure it had just been his imagination.

Then she was gone. Blinking, he broke from his hiding spot and scanned for her, but in the bright light it was too difficult to see. He shielded his eyes as, to his shock, the skyline didn’t resolve as he had expected it to. Instead it was yellow… yellow in all directions. Past the trees, rising from the earth, was a truly colossal yellow structure.

She hadn’t disappeared, Rick realised at last, as once his eyes had adjusted he saw that she had merely blended into the background. The yellow wall that rose well up into the sky before him was truly astounding.

It stretched on and on everywhere he looked. Truly, this thing - whatever it was - would be the largest structure he had ever laid his eyes on. For a moment he considered following the girl from before, but thought better of it. Whatever this huge thing was, he would have a better chance of sneaking into it at night.

*****

Night closed in, and brought with it the cold. He huddled behind a tree, only occasionally daring to peek out. Once or twice he had seen yellow women, like the massive one from before, passing closely by. He hadn’t been able to help himself from staring as they passed. Their impossibly thick thighs simply rewrote everything he had thought he had known about female anatomy. With every step they took, their shiny, sleek legs glinted in the light and the way they slid past each other drove him wild.

Still, he had held his place, waiting until the right moment. Yet as he shivered at the forest’s edge, he decided that now the sun had set, that that moment was good enough.

Slowly he worked his way across the gap between the trees and yellow structure. As he moved further and further, he slowly developed vertigo as he had to crane his neck back further and further to see the top. Indeed, he hadn’t realised just how far it would be to travel to the base until it had been a few solid minutes and he felt he was no closer.

His stomach rumbled, and he clasped it anxiously. He was no longer just hungry, he absolutely needed to taste that golden syrup once more… and there just had to be a way to do that inside.

The ground soon gave way, to his surprise, to a descending slope which he realised meant this structure in fact continued down into the earth. Indeed when he finally reached the bottom of the decline he realised he had slid down at least a dozen metres if not more.

For a moment he considered scaling the side, but knew he would stand out easily. No, his best chance would be to try to find a way in from down on the ground, he told himself as he kept low and worked his way around the edge.

Only now did the scale really begin to settle in as he could barely see any change in the structure’s surface until, looking back behind him, he realised just how far he had come… and yet also a slight curvature in the wall.

The wall itself was odd, hard and yet oddly organic, with a forgiving feel. Indeed, leaning close, he smelled the familiar scent from before. In awe, he looked up and realised the entire thing was built from, at least in part, a hardened version of that syrup which had leaked from the breasts of those two buxom girls before.

Rick stole into the slight ditch between the wall and the earth to hide as, not a few moments later, two massive, tall, golden women strolled past him not a dozen metres away. He was lucky they were engrossed in some hushed and whispered conversation, and didn’t notice him huddling just out of their line of sight.

For a moment, one of them did pause, and he could have sworn she looked back in his direction. He felt his heart in his throat as she turned his way… but after a few moments she merely smiled, as if at some joke only she had heard, and returned to her partner.

That had been too close. Cursing his distraction, he forced himself to focus, even as the scent they left in their wake sent his mind rolling… and his libido rocketing. For a moment he had to steady himself and rested his hand against the yellow wall to his right. Only this time the material felt wetter than before.

Curiously, he withdrew his hand and instantly smelled, albeit somewhat subdued, the same substance which those yellow women had been producing. It was starting to make sense to him. This structure, this entire thing, was built from something similar to that gooey substance.

For a few moments he simply stared at his now wet hand, before looking up at the titanic structure beside him. Hurriedly, yet in cautious silence, he took out his book to confirm his suspicions. Flipping through page after page, he skipped back a few when he noticed that in his haste he had passed it.

Tracing his finger down the page after wiping away the worst of it, having resisted the temptation to taste it again, he froze. Only then did he feel a cool chill down his spine as realisation dawned. Looking back up at the structure to confirm his suspicions, he nearly dropped the book in shock as it all became clear.

Bees. They were bees. Some kind of… bee women; and this massive structure was a gigantic bee hive.

*****

The round surface of the wall, always curving slightly inwards, at last showed some kind of entryway. However, it wasn’t at ground level. It was in fact several dozen feet up, and if it hadn’t been for the light emanating from within he might not have seen it at all. From his position he could see a platform of sorts which protruded a few metres out.

His honey-addled brain, as he now realised what that substance had been, urged him to clamber up and get inside, to find that amber gold and swallow as much as he could. However rationality yet presided over him, even if the balance was shaky. His cock ached now, and the urge to just collapse back and relieve himself was stronger than ever, but he knew he had to focus.

Head swimming, the only thing he could focus on was getting more of that honey.

But how?

From where he was crouching, hidden in the shadows, he could see two massive yellow busty women standing guard at the entrance. In fact he recognised them, they were the two who had so recently passed him by. They must have been scouts, perhaps, patrolling the area.

Rick knew there was no way he could climb up without them spotting him, let alone sneaking past them once he was up there.

His stomach growled, loud enough that he doubled over as if to muffle it, and looked up worried one of the guards might have heard. Luckily, it seemed, he was as of yet undetected.

For moments he pondered how he might possibly gain entry without being seen, when his heart skipped a beat. Both guards suddenly silenced their idle chatting and stiffened. Certain he had been spotted he made to run, but noticed that rather than on him, the pair of massive, busty yellow women had their eyes on the darkened night sky.

Peering between them and the twinkling stars, he struggled to make out what they were looking at, but couldn’t see anything. The silence stretched, and he felt his nerves pulled taut to breaking point, before at last he heard a sound… a buzz.

For a moment he thought he was back in the city, as it reminded him of the distant sound of a mower cutting the grasses. Yet as it grew closer the deep-pitched whine grew and grew, until at last he saw a shadow sliding across the stars above.

He couldn’t help but crane his neck to see who or what had the guards on alert, but at first was confused when the figure landed on the outcropping and entered the cone of light the entrance emitted.

It seemed, at first, just another bee woman. However this one was taller, slimmer in build - albeit still immensely thick in all the right places. Indeed, were it not for this woman’s taller stature he might have mistaken for just another… except as his eyes trailed down, he did notice a rather startling difference.

Protruding quite prominently was - unmistakably - a throbbing, massive cock.

Blinking away his surprise, he watched on, stunned, as the newcomer strolled confidently forwards.

“Mmmm, nice place…” She announced, and took a few steps closer.

“Hello.” One of the guards said, moving ever so slightly to the newcomer’s side as she approached.

“What brings such a… big girl here?” The other guard asked, feigning innocence, yet with a voice huskier than an Alaskan sled team, all the while her eyes fixed on the throbbing and twitching cock that - even from here - Rick could tell would be thicker than his forearm and just as long.

Slightly taken aback, the newcomer stilled for a moment as the two girls began to caress her shoulders and cling to her arms, yet she soon smiled as her confidence returned.

“Oh well… I thought I smelled something good. It must have been… you two.”

Rick watched as they slowly escorted her towards the door, and now their backs were turned he realised this was his chance. Given the slope of the wall, and forgiving material, it was surprisingly easy to leverage his own weight against the side of the hive. He found he could just about get a handhold if he pressed his fingers in firmly, and soon was able to delicately place a hand on the platform and peer over.

He could only stare with unabashed longing as a third bee girl now appeared from within the doorway and began to, delicately, trace her hands down the newcomer’s stomach… towards her now utterly turgid member.

Blushing profusely, Rick kept himself well hidden as, slowly, he watched the taller woman being drawn towards the doorway. She seemed a bit on edge, yet every time she showed any signs of nervousness, one of the girls around her would kiss her, stroke their hands across her body, or give her throbbing member a loving squeeze, and the worry would dissipate.

“Uh… such a nice welcome… um…” The woman murmured, her prior confidence seemingly thinning under the weight of her own arousal.

“There’s more of us inside, you should come meet them.”

“We do so love it when we have visitors…” Said a fourth bee girl, who Rick hadn’t even noticed arriving.

Rick followed a short distance behind, staying low, as the slowly growing cohort of bee girls escorted the newcomer further inside. He blushed furiously when he saw one bee girl's hand firmly grasping the newcomer's ass, and saw two fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of her.

The entryway consisted of a short tunnel, yet it opened up at last. Ricks attention was finally drawn away from the lurid scene before him, however, as the interior of the bee hive truly awed him with its scale. The vast inner space was mostly hollow, with a gentle glow permeating it. All through the tunnel he had felt heat brushing over him but only now did he realise just how warm it was inside. Stretching up at least half a kilometre, maybe higher, the inner walls were criss-crossed by countless small structures and walkways made from - it seemed - the same yellow structural material.

By the time he looked back at the group he was following to ensure he hadn’t been spotted while he gawked in amazement upwards, the newcomer was now being escorted by no less than eight bee girls who were each taking various liberties with her body.

Each was guiding her, caressing her, holding her gently… yet firmly, it transpired.

“”Well, I… really ought to be going…” The massive-membered woman muttered, and gave a testful tug at her own wrists, only to find them locked ironclad within the hands of her minders.

What had been a playful and sensual tour changed tone in an instant. Each of the bee girls instantly stiffened at the slightest sign of resistance on her part, and in moments she was being swarmed. All eight, now nine, of the bee girls brought her to the ground instantly through their sheer combined mass.

“AH!” She yelped, before any further cries were totally muffled as she was utterly buried in thick, yellow female flesh.

Rick could only look on from behind a small wall where he hid in a mix of fascination, horror… and arousal, he admitted to himself.

Hands which had before caressed sensually now did so in a truly torturous ticklish fashion, and the newcomer writhed and screeched in surprise.

Two girls positioned themselves at either side of her waist, their colossal breasts crashing together in physics defying ways around her cock as it throbbed ever harder. The pair set about lavishing it with thick, syrupy kisses from their sausage-thick lips, while feverishly stroking it between their hands; a totally merciless milking no doubt intended to bring their victim to orgasm as swiftly and debilitatingly as possible.

Yet it was the girl who was forcibly smothering their poor victim with her nipple that drew him to peer ever so slightly further over the wall… in horror, he looked on as they merely waited for the girl to run out of breath before seating a thick, turgid nipple between her lips, which immediately began to pump a thick, ceaseless flood of honey down her throat.

Rick winced as the girl’s arms and legs tensed almost painfully looking, but under ten, now eleven, then twelve massively thick bee girls she didn’t stand a chance. Each one alone no doubt weighed twice again his own, and even the tall big-dicked amazon didn’t have a hope of lifting one of them, let alone a dozen.

Slinking down, he turned his back on the scene and fished out his book. Silently, he flipped through the pages until he landed on what he’d been reading before.

‘How bees defend their hives.’

His eyes crept over the words from within his hiding place, and he swallowed deeply. Bees swarmed their victims… smothering them. Especially wasps.

A wasp girl, he muttered to himself under his breath. Now it made sense.

Without thinking, he found his fingers scooping up a pile of still-warm honey and bringing it to his lips. Even as the sickly sweet substance luxuriated on his tongue, he watched on as the same honey was pumped down the wasp girl’s throat.

Slowly he noticed that the more she drank, the harder her cock throbbed… and the more frantic her muffled screams and flexes became. Was she getting more sensitive the more she drank?

As he felt the warm air caressing over his own skin, he realised to his horror just how ticklish even the gentle gust of air was across his fine hairs. He couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to have those girls all over you, tickling you senseless… and all the while feeding you more.

Cursing himself, he forced his fingers away, yet his gaze lingered on the honey they had been sampling far longer than it should have. His stomach gurgled now, loud enough he threw his head down, worried he would be heard even over the combined ticklish and sexual overwhelment of the nearby wasp girl captive.

Her muffled cries rose and rose in pitch as the bee girls, sensing her approaching orgasm, seemed to reach a fever pitch of activity across her body. Every sensitive spot being worked, teased, tickled, kissed, licked, rubbed, to the utmost arousal. Eventually, inevitably, with a scream that managed to permeate the thick layers of womanly flesh encompassing her, she unleashed a torrent of cum from her cock which - enveloped between thighs, tits, lips and hands, was barely visible to him.

Yet even so, in such prodigious quantities, it was hard to mistake it… her cock had just shot a good half gallon of honey all over the swarming bee girls.

Rick didn’t notice until it was too late that he had, in a mix of enamour and hunger, been staring far too openly from his hiding spot. Only when a hand touched his shoulder, followed by another, and another, did he realise his fatal mistake.

 

[mrwriterfromd]

Chapter 8

"Hello there..." Came the sultry tone of the bee woman whose hand was gently but firmly grasping him by the bicep.

Rick felt himself being turned. At that moment was so frozen with fear he couldn't have turned on his own volition. His eyes were soon filled with an endless horizon of her body.

Her thighs alone must each have been thicker than his body, and her hips wider than his legs were long. A supple belly was well hidden beneath truly titanic breasts. If anything they were even larger than those of the girl he had followed here, but it could just have been a (trick? perspective? mirage?) caused by his now close proximity, and the fact he had to stare up to see her face, given she towered nearly two feet taller than him.

"Well, I suppose you've seen what happens to people who try to break in to our hive..." She said smoothly, gripping him a little tighter.

"P-please!" He begged, suddenly overcome, unsure what he was even begging her for.

"Hm? Please what?" She asked sweetly, smiling, yet her eyes remained fixed on him.

"I w-wasn't breaking in! I swear!" He whimpered, shirking under her grip.

"No?" The woman asked as a second bee girl joined her, and gave her partner a knowing look, which they returned.

Both resumed smiling down at him over their massive, pendulous breasts as their smiles grew ever wider.

"Well, why didn't you say so!" The second girl cooed sweetly.

"Hmmm, well then, why are you here little thing?" The first asked innocently as she trailed her hand down his arm.

"Did you... see something you like?" The second girl asked, voice as velvety and thick as honey, as she hefted one of her utterly massive breasts none too subtly.

"Maybe he enjoyed watching us take care of that wasp girl..." The bee woman holding his arm mused. For a moment her head turned, and Rick watched nervously as the massive wasp girl - her cock not quite flaccid and still twitching and spasming the occasional spurt of honey - was carried away deeper into the hive.

As Rick's gaze lingered on her cock a little too long, once his eyes turned back, it was to see the girls gently teasing their own turgid, thumb-sized nipples. In moments each was producing a steady, syrupy thick stream of honey.

"Maybe it wasn't what he saw..." One cooed, pinching her nipple repeatedly to induce more prodigious lactation. "Maybe he smelled something nice..."

"Or maybe... something he tasted?"

At that, the girl holding him began to let the honey dribble from her sausage-like nipple and pool into two of her fingers, before offering it to his lips. When he tried to pull back, she merely held him firmer.

"Want a taste?" She asked rhetorically, voice dripping with intent.

Having only now realised the danger their honey could pose, he felt his throat tightening in fear... but at the same time, his trousers tightened with arousal at just the smell of her lustful honey.

"That's it, that's a good boy..." she cooed as she traced her sticky fingers under his nose, coating his lips in her honey. "Open up for mommy..."

He pursed his lips, but all the while he inhaled deeply, revelling in the incredible smell. The warmth of it, fresh from her body, radiated against his lips.

As her fingers delicately but insistently teased at his mouth, he could hold back no more. They weakened just enough for her to slide her fingers inside, lavishing his tongue in honey.

"There's a good boy!" She soothed, pumping her fingers in and out of his lips slowly, ensuring to coat the entirety of his mouth in honey even as he found himself hungrily licking and sucking on her honeyed digits.

"Mmm, so hungry..." She remarked as her partner reached out to stroke his hair.

"Well we simply must invite him in then."

"Of course. We couldn't let our guest go hungry."

As he dazedly suckled at the mind-bending honey coating her fingers, he barely noticed as she lifted him up against her body almost effortlessly.

"Maybe he'd like to try it fresh from the source..." Came her voice, vibrating through her massive breasts which he was now pressed up against. Through the haze of arousal swiftly overcoming him, he realised through blurry and lidded eyes he could barely see her face over the incredible swell of her bosom.

Her hot and throbbing nipple soon pressed against his cheek, as her fingers gently pulled free of his lips which were reluctant to let him go. However it only took a few moments rubbing her dripping nipple to his lips for him to hungrily latch on to it, earning a satisfied sigh of arousal from her.

"Oh I think you were right," cooed her partner in a tone as sickly sweet as the flood of honey now pouring practically directly down his throat, "I think he loves that..."

"Such a thirsty boy, what a good boy drinking all of Mommy's honey..." She whispered lovingly, as her hand drifted down to delicately stroke up and down encouragingly over his cock through his now straining garments. "I think he would also like to sample our... hospitality?" The bee girl added, giggled.

"Hmmm, or maybe he'd like to sample something else..." The other girl mused, her own hands drifting down her pillowy soft stomach to the pressing folds of her thighs, where Rick's eyes widened in shock at the torrent of utterly thick and syrupy honey that slopped wetly from within them, pressed together through their sheer mass, every time she slid those sopping trunk-thick thighs together. As her hand slipped effortlessly between them they sank home with a slimy squelch that made his cock throb painfully. He couldn't decide between whether he wanted his cock or mouth in there first.

His heart racing, the girl breastfeeding him honey took the opportunity of his distraction to yank his clothes free, tearing them so effortlessly he barely felt a tug before he was nude and utterly helpless in her arms - as if he hadn't already been helpless, he realised, with a cool sinking feeling in his chest.

The other girl sauntered closer, her thighs echoing slick, sticky noises as she did so, with her fingers plunging into her own depths all the while. She at last got down to her knees as the other bee girl had, still holding him pressed tightly to her breast, his entire body easily seated atop and across the meaty plateau of her thighs.

As she did so, given her sheer size, this brought her own massive breasts in line with his head as well. Now his vision was entirely filled with titanic, yellow-tinged breasts, and could only look up in a mix of horror and utter arousal as the second girl loomed over him, eyes wide and fixated upon him with a knowing grin.

"If you like her breasts... wait til you feel this."

With a foreboding slurp, she began to withdraw her hand from within its slimy masturbatory prison. Rick watched helplessly as his captor kept him pinned to her breast, a gentle but firm hand keeping him feeding from her, but ensuring he could see what her partner was doing.

The girl's thighs clung to every inch of her forearm, like some jungle plant unwilling to release a captive, they parted at last as deep yellow honey - evidently thicker than that he had been fed thus far - hung in unbroken strings that seemed unwilling to break until the last moment, dripped down her now free hand.

"Just a little taste... before you feel it."

The bee girl forcibly breastfeeding him began to slowly withdraw the sausage-thick black nipple from his throat, as his every wince and movement merely resulted in encouraging her nipple to spurt forth an even greater flood of honey down his helpless throat. Indeed as she slowly dragged it free of his lips, he could now truly feel the throb-throb-throb of her turgid nipple as it almost mechanically pumped honey forth.

He gasped for breath, mouth finally free of the honey-feeding intruder, and his stomach was achingly full. Yet as he tried to swallow the honey still coating his mouth, trying to clear his throat to voice some modicum of resistance, she merely proceeded to stroke his cock that much faster, scooping up spilled honey from her other nipple as lubrication.

This sudden burst of stimulation was enough to stifle his complaints, his voice catching in his throat, just long enough to see her partner's thickly dripping fingers reaching towards his face.

He reeled back, trying to distance himself from those insidious digits and the honey they carried, but his captor merely cuddled him closer, pinning his body into her colossal cleavage.

Within the hive the air was thick enough with the scent of their honey, and sex, to make his head spin and cock ache. That had only amplified as they had more or less pinned him between their bodies and begun to leak honey from their nipples - and tongues - across his entire body. Yet when the smell of her fingers, utterly soaked and coated in the thick, cloying honey of her bee girl pussy hit him, it was enough to make his mind go blank. Suddenly all he could do was pant, breathing heavily, his mind focused entirely on her fingers.

His lips parted and his tongue hung loosely, drooling slightly, before he had even tasted it.

"Oh I just knew you'd love to try our special honey..." The girl holding him mused, her lips on his ear now licking and kissing his sensitive lobe, sending what little of his remaining sanity there was crashing apart under her tongue's assault. If he could have voiced his disapproval, any hope was dashed apart, as it felt as if her tongue were rearranging his thoughts one lick at a time to care about nothing but their bodies, their honey... and cumming.

Those thoughts went into overdrive as her partner slid her sopping fingers home into his defenceless mouth, and he hungrily closed his lips around them. He began to suckle as if his life depended on it. The taste was simply divine, indescribable. Sweet and thick, it coated every inch of his mind in bubbly horny thoughts.

He drooled and licked as she delicately danced her fingers around his tongue, giggling and awwing in adoration of their cute captive.

As she did so, she began to slide her other hand down to her pussy once more, parting her thighs slightly, and collecting a copious amount of her honeyed secretions.

"If you think it tastes good..." his captor whispered, smiling to her partner conspiratorially as she began to slow her strokes, "just wait until you feel it on your cock..."

He whined in response to her hand slowing, and tried to thrust up into her honey-slickened fingers in response, but she merely loosened her grip and moved her fingers in time with his thrusts in a way that was mind-bendingly frustrating, given how close he had been to orgasm, and the honey now flooding his libido.

"Awww, poor baby..." she cooed as he wept in sheer frustration, removing her hand entirely to now press down gently on his abdomen, keeping him easily pinned down to her thighs and rendering his comparatively feeble thrusts almost nonexistent. All he accomplished trying desperately to fight against her far superior strength was to gently shake his throbbing, dripping, needy cock in the air in a way that merely made him all the more desperate - and of course made his captors titter at his pathetic plight.

"Such a horny boy... I promise it'll be worth the wait..." The other girl said in a voice dripping from her upper lips as heavily as her lower ones were.

Now her other hand, cupped and overflowing with her special honey, hung just above his cock. As a few drops of it touched his cock, he began to madly thrust against his captors hand, desperate beyond reason for stimulation.

At last, with a shared smile, she dropped her hand down and unleashed a torrent of her pussy honey across his needy cock, and began to stroke it in earnest.

He groaned deeply, head rolling back as the other girls fingers at last pulled free, yet his captor merely grinned down at him through lidded eyes before seating her as of yet undrained nipple - throbbing and erect - into his hungry mouth. Soon he was struggling to swallow a deluge of her honey spurred on by her own arousal as, beneath him, he felt her hand reaching down between her own thighs. Her partner followed suit, and the sickeningly wet sounds of the bee girls fingers thrumming between their thighs, which together with their wanton moans added a soundtrack of utter sexual abandon to his helpless milking.

It only served to drive him deeper into a sexual frenzy as, at last, his captor removed her hand from his stomach to delicately cup his swollen and sensitive balls.

"Oh my, I think this little flower has a lot of nectar to give us..." She spoke, breathily, as he felt her titanic thighs shuddering beneath him.

Dimly, he registered the name with idle fascination; little flower? He soon stopped caring however as the woman milking his cock tightened her grip.

"Mmmm, and we know just how to get it..." Her partner drooled, massively thick lips locking with his ear once more, and as she sucked on it he felt a flood of imagination as he wondered what it would feel like to have those lips around his cock.

"Cum for us little flower..." She cooed, encouragingly.

"You will cum for us..." Her partner insisted, and he realised they were not asking.

"Cum. Cum for us... squirt out all that cum for us..."

"Be a good flower and give us your nectar..."

His captor pulled him tighter to her breast, almost making it impossible to breathe as she fingered herself wildly, and he could feel thick honey pooling atop her thighs and beneath him. Her partner meanwhile began to run her fingers back and forth over his crown rapidly in a way that made his eyes roll back.

"Just give in... cum for us... give in and be our good little flower..." she cooed, overwhelming his vulnerable mind and tapping directly into his libido, commanding it as if she had his very sex wrapped around her finger, even as her fingers were so tightly wrapped around his sex.

As the two girls' rapidly approaching orgasm set their groans of pleasure into an ever increasing crescendo, Rick felt himself being pushed closer and closer to the edge in time with their pleasure.

"Cum for us... be a good flower..." One whispered.

"Cum with us..." the other screamed, "Cum!"

At that he felt the thighs beneath him tense, as did the nipple totally filling his mouth, before an utter flood of honey poured across his stomach from between his captor's thighs, soon joined by that of the girl pressing in against her from the other side.

As he cried out in ecstasy, his long awaited orgasm finally approaching, his plaintice wails were muffled by the breast filling his face.

The girl milking his cock doubled over, and swallowed his cock down her throat, pillowy thick lips utterly devouring him as she sucked powerfully. He throbbed, and broke between her lips, as she forced him over the edge into a mind-melting orgasm.

His whole body was wracked with ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure washed through him, and all the while he was forcibly fed endless mouthfuls of honey which he dutifully swallowed - his orgasm addled mind unable to think of doing anything else.

The bee girl withdrew her thick suctioning lips at last with a loud, wet pop. Panting, she licked her lips, and Rick watched lazily as her tongue scooped up every drop.

Rick was scarcely able to give it much thought, and as his draining and exhausting orgasm subsided, he melted into the arms of his captors.