Bound Bird
I wanted to write a story with my magpie fursona and I also have this owl friend. The two seemed to go together quite nicely, enjoying some of the aspects of furry erotica which I personally enjoy. This was written in a day pretty much so it might be rough here or there. Enjoy it and if you want leave a comment below, they are always appreciated.
Sova © Sova_13
Horatio Fletcher © Iscin
BOUND BIRD
by Iscin
This is a work of erotic fiction.
All characters portrayed within are 18 years of age or over.
Sova © Sova_13
Horatio Fletcher © Iscin
All rights reserved © 2015.
CHAPTER ONE
Contact
At the moment Horatio's yellow eyes set upon the bird of prey his priorities shifted for the rest of the day. Before now the magpie had planned for a benign evening, something to relax and wind down after his last assignment abroad. But on a whim he had elected to pay a visit to one of the city gyms to do what he likes to call window shopping. It always delights him how civilisation gathers and pigeonholes people into respective categories, making it laughably easy to brows a selection of body and personality types. And for a corvid of his proclivities there are always some exciting subjects to choose over at the many leisure centres which contemporary vain consumer society has spawned.
Still dressed in his light black coat, collar popped for the autumn weather outside, the chromatic bird keeps his distance as he looks inside. The owl who has his attention is a beast of a man, someone who looks to have benefitted from good genes just as much as any hard earned results. Clothed in only a yellow speedo the big man is mostly just wearing his own white and blue feathers. Although even the small degree of feathery fuzz which they provide does little to mask the visual of outrageous musculature and definition as though chiseled into living marble; in fact the white only adds to the effect.
Making his choice Horatio moves with purpose, entering the gym and going straight to the receptionist in the lobby. With some charming talk the magpie quickly gets a free trial membership and elects to use the facilities here and now. Taking the directions he goes straight for the mens changing room. Already unbuttoning his shirt as he enters the nearly complete empty room. A dog prepping for mixed martial arts and a mouse even smaller than Horatio are here getting changed. He ignores both of them and picks out a locker as he removes his jacket before quickly getting the shirt off his back.
Once changed into a pair of gym shorts the magpie heads straight for that training room where he saw the owl only ten minutes ago. Horatio is small compare to most other men or species, but physically trained to the point of peak physical fitness which is appropriate less for a body builder and more for a ninja. This is shown in the compact definition on his torso; the white feathers of his abdominals in particular helping to show the work that has gone into his core strength. But this may work against him here, he needs to develop a strategy for approaching his target. A mask which he can use to lure the right response from him.
The magpie takes up a couple of light weights and sticks to one of the room's corners. From here he starts to keep an eye on the large white and blue bird as he starts to do standard military presses. Admittedly Horatio is struggling to maintain his own act of casual gym goer as the owl's impressive display of raw power keeps drawing the magpie's golden eyes to inappropriately stare. After a couple of sets the big guy leaves the weights to talk with someone else in the room; kind of canine who looks like he is jacked up on something that is surely not healthy for him. The two are definitely acquaintances, maybe even friends. Though not interested in the guy with furry beings popping out from his neck Horatio is given a window into the kind of attitude that the owl possesses; body language is so revealing.
After another fifteen minutes of discreet observation it looks like the owl is just about done. He grabs his kit and is now walking towards the exit. Now is the time for the magpie to make his move. Putting the small weight down which he was more fiddling than actually working with, Horatio gets up and starts to make his way for the same exit. His eyes on the floor, Horatio starts to change his body language, from the way he positions his talons to the elevation of his shoulders. By the time he walks into the tall bird of prey Horatio has his mask on. First he stumbles, now he looks up, finally the eyes and beak opening wide as he gawks at the owl; not much acting is needed for that one.
"S-Sorry. I wasn't..." Horatio's voice warbles a couple octaves higher than normal. His eyes darting from one corner of the owl's mostly naked body to the other.
"Looking where you were going?" The owl says and smiles down at the far smaller avian staring up at him.
"Yeah, err, sorry." The magpie apologises again, this time with a nervous smile before his eyes drifting down to that misshapen bulge in the front of the big bird's bright yellow speedo.
"My eyes are up here." Comes the big guy's response, capped with a warm laugh. A couple others have noticed the two talking, one or two smiling knowingly before getting back to their respective routines.
"Gah! Sorry! Ugh... I need to stop saying that." Horatio says and shakes his head. "I'm new, obviously haha. Name's Horatio."
"Sova." The big replies and extends a feathered hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."
CHAPTER TWO
Apartment
Getting into Sova's apartment was easy, but then Horatio is trained for infiltration; not that this is what his instructors had imagined him using his talents for. Their conversation continued from the training room in the gym, and an hour later here he is in the owl's very own urban nest. Just a shame that Sova could not have been a little more well to do. The first room is bland, and the second is even duller. A lifetime of rubbing shoulders with the privileged might have jaded the operative in regards to the simpler style of living. However that is not to say that he does not have plenty of eye candy to enjoy, as with every other second he is glancing or even outright staring at the stud of a bird. Whether from in front, sideways or behind the owl is quite the man to behold. And his persistence on only wearing the speedo whilst indoors makes it all too obvious that the owl enjoys showing off. Then again, the thought occurs to Horatio that perhaps he just does not have the income for custom tailored clothing and as such has grown accustomed to a certain briefness.
"Do you want a drink?" Sova asks, his voice brimming with that cocksure attitude from earlier.
"O-Oh. Err, yes, please. I mean, if it's not too much trouble." Horatio replies, maintaining his act.
Left alone in what he guesses counts as a lounge in the three room apartment, not counting facilities. Horatio lays back on the couch and looks up the ceiling noting how high it is. Already though his mind is working on what he is going to do next. Being invited for coffee was a great step, but now he has to choose the method by which he claims his conquest. If their burgeoning relationship had begun on a more honest keel then he might have been able to steer this in the direction which the magpie wants. However the act, combined with his own impatience, means that Horatio is considering a far less consensual method of getting what he wants. Dipping his right hand into a pocket in his jacket he fiddles with something that will definitely be of us today. Just the thought of what he is going to do is causing his wings to involuntarily flutter with agitated excitement.
"Do you take it black?" Sova shouts from the kitchen.
"Oh yes, please." Horatio replies.
In the minute it takes Sova to finally return with the coffee Horatio has made up his mind. The big owl has one mug in each blue fingered hand. Before sitting down he offers one of the mugs to Horatio. The magpie reaches out to take the mug, but simultaneously holds a small object in one of his hands. As he takes the mug Sova feels a slight prick against his hand. It is not painful, and the sensation of it disappears so quickly that he thinks that it was just a static shock. However as he takes a seat he bird of prey quickly begins to notice something is wrong. His eyes roll sluggishly over to look at the smaller avian sat watching him. Sova's beak parts, about to say something, but he never spits it out as the owl suddenly slumps sideways as the void takes him.
"Now I can get to the fun part."
CHAPTER THREE
Flockery
Horatio stretches his back after having finished all of his preparations. Muscles weights so very much more than fat and Sova has gained so very much muscle through the course of his life. Looking back down at the owl the magpie is more than pleased with what he has managed to do. After having been rendered unconscious, the big bird was dragged through to and then pulled up on to his own bed. After that the magpie used the linen to bind arms, legs and wings together and to the bed posts. Belly side up the big muscled, small brained, owl is now ready to be served up. Horatio licks the edge of his beak as he takes in the sight before his eyes set down on this speedos. He left them on until now, but there is only so much self-control any one man of flesh can have.
"Lets see what you have for me huh?" whispers to the unconscious bird and leans across, climbing up onto the defenceless predator.
Getting one hand around the bulging clothing Horatio is amazed by just how large it really is. With two hands now he starts to size up the owl, groping the stretched fabric with no sign of timidness. Fuck, how can it feel bigger than it looks? The shapes make some sense, he can make out the two orbs near the bottom, but the coiled tube of hot flesh is harder to figure out; where does it start and where does it end? Eager to find out the magpie's fingers go for the cusp of the owl's speedos, digging in between spandex and feather. He begins pulling them down slowly, eyes lighting up at the sight of the owl's large ebony endowment start to be revealed in piecemeal. One final tug causes the entire thing to uncoil before his very eyes, furling over his forearms like some slumbering python. Horatio is truck by not only how much heat is coming off the all male organ, but also the shear weight of it when soft.
"You should get a license for that thing." Horatio comments aloud.
"I know." Comes the reply.
It is a rare thing for the magpie to be started. As such he is understandably taken aback and stumbles to back up, nearly tipping off the edge of the bed as he looks back to a now very awake Sova. The owl glares back at the magpie, his gaze burning with that ineffable quality of mystery that owls are so well known for having. Seconds pass as the two avians stare across at one another, one clothed and the other most certainly not. Horatio was considering waking the owl before getting to the good stuff, but it seems as though he used barely enough sedative anyway; either that or the owl was rather effectively pretending to be unconscious, but it is not like Horatio to make that sort of mistake. The expression of shock has faded from the smaller man's face and now he smiles, his normal self-assurance returning to him.
"Sorry, I didn't think you've be awake by now." Horatio says. "But since you are I can continue with something new."
Sova remains silent as the magpie gets up off the bed and starts to unbutton his shirt. In fact the owl seems far more interested in his captor than his position of being the captive as the magpie removes his shirt and now is unbuckling his belt. Horatio's movements are fluid, almost as if he is performing on a stage albeit for the sole audience. But this is not some sort of submissive display, even as he starts pulling down his venetian red coloured pants and exposing his pert black bubble butt. Teal coloured tail feathers fan out as he wriggles his rump from side to side, hips swaying this way and that. The magpie does not even have to look, to know that the owl is quickly becoming excited. Even from this distance at the edge of the bed he can feel the radiating heat and star to taste the heavy scent in the air.
Having quickly become as stark naked as his bound buddy on the bed, Horatio turns around and rests his hands on his hips, arms akimbo. Sova looks up and down, eyes pausing momentarily on the pink pecker dangling against soft white feathered loin fruit. If this were any other situation Sova be doing so much more than simply laying eyes upon this very presentable morsel. However it is the smaller player who has the command here and gazing upon the pulsating black pillar that counts for the owl's malehood, said player knows what his next move is going to be. He simply has to discover what this monster of owl and man can do with his own two hands. But first he needs to get a little more aquatinted with the medium by which he will sculpt his entertainment for this evening.
The owl's body visually starts to tense up, he is clearly straining against his restraints as the magpie starts to crawl back across the bed and the bird. Horatio takes a moment to run his hands along the owl's washboard abs and along to his meaty pecs. It really is like sculpted marble. As he explores Sova's contours the smaller bird is leaning over so that he is actually being propped up by the owl's turgid python as it throbs against Horatio's torso, which in turn makes it clear that the entire thing will never fit. As his fingers linger between the cavern between Sova's pectorals the big owl flexes, bunching them together and in the process squeezing Horatio's fingers. The magpie quickly removes his hands and shoots a cold look at the predator bird. But then again this is what he chose the arrogant owl for. Just as much as Sova has the body of a god, he has the attitude of a cocky bastard and wears it with pride. In a word, the owl is a challenge.
"Are you going to be all stoic now then?" Horatio asks as he straddles the owl's strong thighs. "Well no matter, I'm sure I can get a hoot out of you by doing this!"
With exuberance the magpie gets a firm two handed grip on the owl's engorged dick. The black tower of flesh throbs and jumps in the smaller avian's hands. Horatio can feel his heart begin to race as he begins to wrestle with the owl's overgrown trouser snake. Even though he is the one in control here it does not feel like it as the owl's phallus seems to have a life of its own. Of course Sova is also starting to try and thrust up into the air and against Horatio's firm grip too. Although with the way that Horatio has tied the big guy down, Sova is finding it hard to move very much in any direction. Although the struggle is more than appreciated for the magpie as he tightens his grip, agitating the stud's arousal even more.
Virility is something which Sova is no short supply of, and he demonstrates this now with plentiful amounts of pre-ejaculate which comes dribbling down his ebony member. The mere drops from before are a dry spell by comparison as Horatio starts getting his feathers slick with the owl's juices. Apart from the smell and even taste of the owl, the most important contribution this makes is to lubricate the motions with which the magpie is employing. Not only stroking the large owl dick in a vertical motion, Horatio is employing a variety of twisting moves and focus on the glands to cover the most ground and the best erogenous areas for getting the guy's rocks off. To his own credit Sova is mostly succeeding in maintaining his silent resistance. However as his impulses to try and hump something overwhelm his pride the white and blue fowl is starting to lose his cool with the occasional moan or even desperate squawk.
Both men are quickly becoming wet with a combination of pre-ejaculate, perspiration and good old fashioned saliva as Horatio brings his tongue to the owl's lustful companion. Even the magpie has become aroused now, his pink ten inches sword normally most impressive is like a mere toy by comparison to the megalith he is availing his interests on at present. However Horatio is not one for jealousy, especially when he literally has a firm handle on the matter. To his delight Sova actually makes a hooting sound as his whole body flexes and he tries to struggle against the bindings harder than before. The magpie ceases his ministrations for a moment to stare at the sight of the tortured avian whole body straining. Veins pop out from underneath his feathers, as if from nowhere, and there is this ominous sound of taut cloth and creaking wooden slats underneath the mattress. Oh no.
A mighty crescendo of noise is all that accompanies the sight of a wall of muscle lurching up at Horatio's upright position atop the owl's thighs. In his own erotic hubris the magpie has failed in estimating the big guy's ability to overcome the expertly made restrictions. Shear power has won out over expertise this time. Now a grappling game quickly ensues as Sova reaches with both hands for the offending usurper. Horatio swings one wing to help deflect said hands whilst he tries to scramble his centre of balance, attempting to leap back away from the desperate owl. Unfortunately for him however Sova proves to have far quicker reflexes than would be ostensibly assumed and his hand find their mark. Of course even now the magpie could get nasty, real nasty, and go for the eyes for instance. However guilt and his persisting state of arousal makes him pause whilst the owl settles on the edge of the half broken bed and draws the magpie up to his face.
"Before you do... whatever it is that you're thinking of doing. I just want you to know I regret nothing." Horatio chirps in mock defiance.
Sova just smiles on back at him.
***
There are many things that the magpie has tried and experienced over the years. We are not just talking about wildly hedonistic orgies here neither. Fetishes are as ubiquitous and varied as species are in this world he has found himself hatched into. However little in the worldly bird's life could have prepared him for this moment. The owl first wets two fingers and starts jamming them up inside of the magpies tight backdoor. Horatio jumps a little whilst he is held tightly inside the vice grip of one of the owl's strong arms. As the fingers start exploring the first few inches inside of his ass the predator turned prey struggles with his conflicted desires. On the one talon this is what he wanted in the first place, sort of. But on the other he is not at all comfortable with being at the mercy of another male like this, and definitely not with that leviathan he can feel drooling against the back of his legs. His position with his hands and knees on the carpet floor does not make his insecurity feel like waning neither.
Sova is almost satisfied with his work on the magpie's rump. Lastly he now uses one hand to grip and pull at one cheek and now the other, getting a good feel for the elasticity of the fuck pillows as Horatio tries to squeeze them back together. It has been so long since he has attempted to fuck such a small guy. Horatio is not any taller than five foot seven, which is dwarf sized by comparison to the beastly owl. However after that stunt of drugging and then tying him up Sova has every intention of extracting his payback, even if it does mean carving a couple more sizes into the magpie's trunk. Still as he begins to draw his anus-seeking arrow between the two feathery soft butt cheeks the owl is keeping in mind to be slow and gentle with this. He can feel the smaller man's body grow stiff as Horatio closes his eyes and braces for what comes next.
"Don't worry, the first one is the worst." Sova says, his words not calming the magpie at all.
"AAH!" Horatio gasps as the head pierces his sphincter.
"That's right, be vocal about it. You've gotta learn your lesson!" The owl growls as he trusts his hips down against the magpie, pinning him to the ground.
It hurts, which is an understatement, but Horatio has felt far worse pain. His beak gaping for air the small bird takes heavy breathes as he involuntarily clenches around the black pillar being jammed up his ass. Training and experience grant him a great deal of endurance and as such saves him from passing out as the owl forces more of himself inside of the magpie. For Sova he wonders where this corvid has been all of his life, the only thing more impressive than the tight space pressing down on his dick from every direction is the way in which the magpie's muscles are flexing around him, almost as if he is trying to milk the owl for that creamy reward. This only spurs him to pack even more meat inside, until suddenly he comes up against a barrier.
"Oh wow. I don't think you have anymore room in there." Sova says as he grinds in a clockwise motion.
"Fffffuuuuck..." Horatio replies, his beak coated in his own drool.
Suddenly the corvid exclaims loudly, his warbled voice replacing the sound of panting. Sova feels the dull splash of ejaculate against the arm still slung around the small bird and grins as he realises that Horatio has lost control of himself. But there is no time to dwell on the compromised cool of his would be rapist. The owl might not be able to get all of his black dick buried inside of the magpie, but he can certainly use what will fit to get his rocks off. As such he now starts to pull back before slamming forward. Jackhammering in a rhythmic rate, the owl begins to pound all sense and reason out of the corvid until Horatio can see nothing but stars. Practise and the ever abundant amounts of pre-ejaculate are helping to smoothen the owl's thrusts from his powerful thighs. However instead of jerky penetrations, Horatio now has to contend with the sensation of Sova's hefty white feathered 'eggs' come smacking down against the back of his thighs and the lower end of his buttocks.
If he could still keep cogent thoughts, instead of the torrential outpouring of raw nerves that currently dominate his mind, Horatio might be regretting his decision. It is not merely the way in which his hole is being abused, spread wide beyond all reasonable size. But from his prostrate to his internal organs he can feel the owl abusing every part of him inside and out. The magpie's hands curl up as if suffering rigamortis, squeezing the arm holding him whilst his head lays on its side against the not entirely clean carpet floor. This is what he is reduced to then. A drooling mess of a bird, pinned beneath a titan of a man who intends to exact as much use out of his tail feathers before the conclusion. Somehow between the pain and pleasure Horatio does not think it is quite so bad to lose control of a situation if it ends up like this.
Ultimately however as the owl's orgasm approaches Horatio knows it is all worth it. The final couple of thrusts are so vigorous that Horatio's limp body goes sliding against the carpet, a couple of loose feathers painfully plucked from him in the process. And now here it comes. A mere half of the Sova's shaft lodge firmly inside of the magpie's rump. His loins hug against his crotch as the owl screams in blissful release. As his load starts travelling down the long throbbing member it expands in girth, further sealing it in as the thick bird seed pours into Horatio's deep rectum. No sound is made by the corvid, instead the monochromatic avian merely shivers and closers his eyes as he feels himself being filled up and then some. The glowing heat from the bird of prey's spunk radiate outwards, warming every particle of his being.
"Totally worthy it." Horatio mumbles coarsely before finally drifting off to the void.
CHAPTER FOUR
Coda
The first thing Horatio is aware of with the dawning of consciousness is the numbing pain in his lower back, prostate and gaping sphincter. Whilst still adjusting to that he starts paying attention to his surroundings and finds the owl sitting down near him. Apparently after having passed out the magpie must have been carried to the Sova's couch, just as well seeing as the bed has been totalled. Even better he seems to have had his pants put back on, with his shirt and jacket dropped on the back of the couch. He stretches his wings a little before trying to move. The pain is persistent but not intolerable for him as Horatio sits up straight and looks over at what appears to be a sleeping predator. I guess he got what he wanted, and so did I. The magpie smiles to himself and gets back up on his talons.
"Going so soon?" The owl asks as, eyes opening again.
"I knew you weren't sleeping. Sorry about taking flight pal." Horatio says as he starts putting back on the rest of his clothes. "I might visit though. No promises."
"Mph. Well next time just ask nicely. None of that acting and assassin shit." Sova says grumpily.
"That's alright. I'm planning to try something if there is a next time anyway." The magpie laughs as he starts walking for the exit.