I’m The Biggest Bird

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

A soft voice rouses you, the sound of soft rain pattering on the roof. You could smell fresh, wet dirt, and the air felt heavier, somehow. It never rained in Arizona, even in the spring.

Your eyes spring open, your mind rushing to catch up. You feel groggy, and your mouth is dry.

"Where am I?" You croak, trying to move your arms.

A soft chuckle sounds out from behind you, and you freeze, the fog in your mind starting to dissipate as you become more alert.

"You don't remember?" A woman steps in front of you, her hair dark red and curled beautifully. You would think she was rather stunning, but something in the back of your mind screams in distrust. "You were so sleepy on the drive up, darling. I'm surprised you didn't wake up once we got here. It did make positioning you much easier, though."

The woman smiles at that, her green eyes crinkling up. She is quite pretty. You think, in different circumstances, you might have worked up the courage to ask her out. Her hands reach your yours, grabbing them softly, and you finally look down.

"What the fu-"

"Ah ah," The woman reprimands, a sharp pain hitting your cheek. It takes you a moment to realize that she's slapped you. "We don't use that kind of language here."

Your hands are strapped down with thick leather bands to the arms of a chair. There's a puffy sort of leather on the arms, so your skin isn't digging into the wood. A small mercy, really. You assume your legs are in the same situation, since they don't move when you command them to.

"I- but," you give up on pulling against the restraints. It's obvious this woman knows what she's doing. "Did you… Do this?"

The woman fully smiles now, her teeth bright white and perfect. It's unnerving, just how perfect she is. A beautiful woman in front of you, speaking to you with that soft voice of hers, her thumb stroking the back of your hand soothingly. You could almost forget that she had just slapped you, or that all signs were pointing to her being a kidnapper.

"Of course I did, sweetheart," she murmurs, tilting her head. "You're mine, aren't you? But you don't fully know that, not yet, at least. But don't worry, soon you'll be mine completely, mind, body, and soul."

She speaks so poetically, it's hard for you to focus on the words that she's saying. There's a certain lilt to her words, like she grew up speaking another language, but you can't quite pinpoint what that language is.

"I'm, uh, yours?" You ask, brows furrowing as you start to remember more. You were walking, no, hiking on one of your favorite trails. You went there often… Ah, you suppose you are quite predictable. That's probably how this woman managed to kidnap you. The only thing you can remember is a sharp prick on your backside, and then waking up here.

"Wait," you shake your head. "Did you inject me with drugs in the ass? And where am I?"

It's so incredible to even say it out loud. But now that you're remembering more, you can still feel a slight soreness in your backside.

Wanda chuckles, standing from where she'd been kneeling in front of you. She begins speaking, even as she moves to the other side of the room with her back turned toward you. It looks like a normal room, with a small window on the wall to the right of you. There's a large table, and a chest of drawers underneath it. You can see some objects on the table, but get distracted by the woman's words.

"I did, darling. It is the easiest part of the body to aim for. Besides, I didn't want to risk hurting you by going for your arm."

She peeks over her shoulder at that, and you feel an urge to say something.

"Um, that's nice of you."

The woman smiles again, and you blink. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be trying to escape?

"Thank you, sweetheart. I put a lot of thought into this, you know. I wanted everything to be perfect for you. After all, I take care of what's mine."

"You never answered my other question."

The woman raises a single eyebrow at your tone, and you flush.

"We're somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, but I'm not going to tell you exactly where. Not yet, at least. I have a cabin out in the forest. It's very isolated here, but once we learn to trust each other, I can take you back to my main residence."

"So are you rich or something?" You blurt out, wishing you could just bite your tongue for once.

"Yes," the woman simply says, finally turning around. "You'll never want for anything ever again, dear. I'll take very good care of you."

You blanch as she turns, staring at the object in her hands, her words not registering fully.

The woman holds a dildo in her hands. It's dark red and moderately sized, with ribbed edges and a weird attachment at the base. It looks kind of like a screw.

"Um," you try, hoping to distract the woman as she begins to screw the dildo onto a small machine near your feet. "What's your name? I should probably know that, you know, if I'm gonna be yours and stuff."

"It's cute how much you ramble when you get nervous, darling," the woman murmurs, smiling up at you, one hand patting your bare knee reassuringly. "This won't hurt; in fact, it will be quite the opposite. I just want you to get all comfortable for me before I start the process. How does that sound?"

"The… process?"

"Of breaking your mind until you're mine." The woman smiles again, moving the machine under your chair. She fidgets with something, positioning the dildo, you suppose. Wait, how was she planning on… oh, fuck.

The tip of the dildo prods at you, resting right near your entrance.

"How, what?" You hadn't noticed your pants missing, but you do now. Luckily, the woman had let you keep your shirt on, but you doubted it would stay that way.

"Well, I designed this chair with a hole in the bottom," the woman says, her soft voice growing excited as she shows you a remote. "The machine can go forever, unless the generator stops, but it never has. This remote controls it, see?"

She flicks a switch, the ON button, you think. You tense, your eyes wide.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't be afraid," the woman drops to her knees in front of you, her eyes wide and imploring. "Look, I'll even lube it up for you. It's not even my biggest dildo, darling. Isn't that kind? I just want you to feel good, that's all I want. Eventually, you'll be able to take anything I give you, but I'm being gentle right now. For you, darling."

Her hand grabs a bottle of lube. You can hear soft squelching sounds, and you assume she's lubing the dildo up, but you flinch every time her fingers graze you.

"What's your name?" You whisper, a pleading sort of tone in your voice. You would be embarrassed, but you're too fucking scared to care.

"Wanda."

You take a shaky breath. "You don't have to do this, Wanda. You could let me go, I won't tell anyone, I promise, just please-"

"I love it when you beg, dear," Wanda interrupts, her voice still soft, but there's a hard edge to it. "But don't ever ask to leave again. I didn't put in all this work just for you to be ungrateful. Is that really how you say thank you to me?" Her green eyes glint up at you, her eyebrows raised and smile gone.

That expression scares you more than the dildo. You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Wanda."

You don't know what else to say, but that seems to work for her, because that dazzling smile returns to her face. She stands, one hand holding the remote, her other gently touching your face. You're surprised at how warm her fingers are, and you resist the urge to lean into her touch. It's the only comforting thing about this whole situation. Honestly, why does she have to be so fucking nice?"

You see her fingers turn a dial on the remote, and you hear a quiet motor start.

It doesn't hurt. It doesn't even feel bad. In fact, it doesn't feel like much. The motor whirs softly, the tip of the dildo slowly pressing into you. It slides in easily, and you wait for it to fill you. It retreats, and you look up at Wanda in confusion.

The dildo returns, slowly sliding in again, the tip just barely sliding inside you before it retreats again. It's moving maddeningly slow; the thrusts are constant, but shallow. The lube makes it so you can barely feel the dildo; the girth of it just barely presses into you before it retreats again.

"See?" Wanda murmurs. "I told you it would feel good. I'll be back."

She doesn't offer any other explanation, whirling around and leaving the room. You swore her pupils were larger than before. There was something about the way she had looked at you that sent shivers down your spine. There was this possessive look in her eye, and it said that she would never let you go.

You don't really get much opportunity to reflect, though, your attention constantly being pulled back to the dildo thrusting shallowly up into you. It's driving you insane. The sun has shifted slightly, you can tell from the window, and the shadows are growing longer on the walls. You wish you knew how to tell time from the sun, but it had never seemed like an important skill before now.

There is lube smearing around your entrance. You're sure it's dripping onto the floor. But you're not sure if your arousal has also mixed in with it. You wouldn't be surprised, honestly. Your clit is throbbing. It's peeking out from under its hood, protruding slightly. You can feel the slightly cool air from the room hitting it, and you let out a soft whimper.

You want more, you realize. The thought should horrify you. It should disgust you. But it doesn't, in fact, you can't quite bring yourself to care. Not when this dildo is teasing you, stimulating you, and making you ache from need, but not giving you any satisfaction.

The door opens, and Wanda steps through, shutting it gently behind her. She's changed out of the dark clothing she was wearing before. Her pants are casual, and a tight shirt shows off her form.

"It's been a few hours. How are you feeling, darling?"

You wait for the fear to return. You wait for the revulsion, the innate urge to escape from your captor. But you feel none of that. All you feel is the burning need in your gut, and you feel something break away from your resolve.

"Please," you whisper. It comes out breathy, almost a whine, really. Wanda's eyes light up, her smile gentle as she moves to kneel in front of you again.

You meet her eyes fully, no hesitation left in you. God, she's gorgeous. You already knew this, but now you can fully appreciate it. You think you could learn to love her, maybe even be as obsessed with her as she is with you. But for right now, she's the only person who can satiate the need growing inside you.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, her eyes searching yours, her hands stroking up your thighs slowly. She grabs your hips for a moment, biting her lip as she glances down to watch the dildo as it moves slowly in and out of you.

"Please turn it up, Wanda."

"Perfect," she whispers, and the approval warms something inside you. She turns the dial, and the dildo slides deeper. It still goes at the same slow, torturous pace, but now more than half the dildo slips inside you with each thrust.

You groan, feeling it stretch you in a deliciously wonderful way. You can't cum just from penetration, but goddamn it feels so good.

"Oh, thank you, Wanda," you breathe out, relaxing into the chair. Her hands run over your thighs once more, and you find yourself enjoying the sensation. You want her to touch you more. You want her hands all over, stimulating every part of you. You'd do anything to cum. Her fingers dig into your hips, and you let out a soft moan.

Then, Wanda pulls away, standing.

You look up at her in confusion.

"I have a special gift for you, would you like that?" Wanda asks.

You can't think straight, your brain dripping out between your legs. All you can manage is a weak nod, your body melting into the chair as pleasure warms your gut.

"When I ask you a question, you will respond verbally, do you understand?" Wanda's voice is velvety smooth and melodic, her words slipping between your ears and wrapping around your brain like a firm hand.

"Yes, Wanda," you murmur, looking up at her. You even manage a smile.

"Good," Wanda whispers, "Very good, so perfect for me."

Her hand strokes your face for a moment before she turns and walks to the table on the opposite side of you. You would be curious about what she's doing, but you're more focused on the dildo pumping into you. There is no friction, no resistance as it fucks you relentlessly. You can smell your own arousal, your own neediness permeating the air, but you can't bring yourself to care.

Wanda returns, a dark red piece of leather in her hands. She holds it reverently, the gold metal buckles clinking gently as she holds it up, and you realize it's a collar.

"See?" Wanda grins, showing you the tag. "It says Wanda's Good Toy on it, isn't it perfect?"

You nod. It is perfect. It's what you are, after all, isn't it? Allowing yourself to be fucked by her, to let your arousal cloud your judgement, all because of a simple dildo. You'd let her play with your body anytime she wants, as long as it always feels this fucking good.

Wanda smiles wider, kissing the top of your head as she steps closer, fastening the collar around your neck. You can smell her perfume now; she's never gotten this close to you before. You feel intensely grateful as she leans in, her vanilla scent only increasing the arousal thrumming through your veins.

"Doesn't it feel so good?" Wanda asks, the collar buckled into place. It fits snugly, not too tight, but not too loose. You can feel your brain going slightly fuzzy. It feels like a comfortable sort of weight has been placed on you, and you're not sure you want to escape.

"Yes, Wanda," you murmur, squirming in your restraints as Wanda turns the dial again. The dildo thrusts fully into you, the base of it pressing against you as you gasp. "It feels so good… I- thank you, thank you so much."

"Good," Wanda strokes your hair. "So good for me. Do you see how good I can make you feel? Don't you want this?"

You nod, your eyes unfocused as she turns the dial again, the thrusts increasing in speed. A louder whine slips past your lips as your words become frenzied and desperate. "Yes, I love it. Please… oh, fuck, I love it so much."

Wanda's hand connects with your cheek again, and you moan.

She freezes, and you look up. Her pupils are blown wide, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. It's not like the gentle smile she's been wearing. No, it's a smile of satisfaction, of pride, of love.

"Language," she whispers, before her lips crash into yours.

You moan into the kiss, letting her have her way with your mouth. Her tongue snakes into yours, firmly pressing against yours before she pulls away, her teeth biting into your lip and sucking. She thoroughly claims your mouth, the dildo working you up as she straddles your lap.

"You're perfect," she moans, her fingers digging into your hips as she grinds down on your thighs.

You can't respond in much more than moans. It's all so much. The dildo pumping into you, her fingers bruising your hips, trailing up your body, tugging at your collar. Her arousal smears on your thighs, her breathy gasps in your ear as she sucks hickeys into your neck. It's overwhelming, and all you can feel is Wanda.

"Cum," she commands, and your mind goes blank as white-hot pleasure consumes you. Your hands grip the ends of the chair arms, your fingernails digging into the wood as you convulse. Your clit is throbbing, pleasure shooting through you as the dildo continues to hit the deepest parts of you, not slowing even as you cum again.

Wanda is shaking on top of you, her breath warm on your cheek as she presses her forehead against yours. You think she's also had an orgasm, her moans echoing through your brain. One of her hands is shoved down her pants, and you can see the outline of her fingers rubbing furiously at her clit.

Your orgasm lasts for what seems like forever, the dildo unrelenting as it fucks into you. It fucks you through the aftershocks, sending you headfirst into yet another orgasm.

"Too much-"

"No," Wanda interrupts, her voice raspy. She turns the dial up, moaning at your responding whimpers as the dildo increases its pace yet again. "It's never too much. You'll take what I give you."

You nod, letting your pleasure overwhelm you again.

"Isn't this so nice?" Wanda asks, the words whispered against your chest as she sucks more bruises into your skin. "Being so brainless for me, letting me control your pleasure however I want? Isn't it so nice to not be in control, to let me make all the decisions for you, darling?"

"Yes, Wanda."

And you mean it. You're hers. Forever.

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