Pixie Isobella

M/f erotic submission with bondage, cages, groping, mostly consensual

Greta the bunny girl has been dreaming about Nicholas the werewolf for months now… But how will she feel about him when she is trapped, in his control and unable to escape? She thought he didn’t want her but she was wrong. Now she is chained, hand and foot to her own bed. Nicholas has her just where he wants her and he isn’t going to let her go until he shows her precisely how much he’s been lusting after her.

The Rabbit Cage: Chapter 1

Greta felt so exposed in the cage. The moment anyone entered the room, they would see her, vulnerable and trapped behind iron bars.

She grumbled to herself as she tugged experimentally on the chain leading from her wrists to a padlock on the bars. The chain didn’t budge but then she hadn’t really expected it to.

‘I like to keep my pet where everyone can see her,’ the wolf had said. ‘Your cage will be in the living room for now. My pet needs to be where I can always have access to her.’

Pet, Greta thought disgustedly, embarrassed at how he had crooked his fingers at her and she had hopped so eagerly into his lap. She wrinkled her nose at the sweet-smelling hay the man had placed in the corner of her cage. A joke. He had been laughing at her when he put in her food bowl.

‘Hay for my rabbit. Eat it, little bun bun. It’ll keep your fur nice and glossy.’ She had wrinkled her nose at him and hissed deep in her throat. He had just laughed again.

I am not eating hay, Greta grumbled, feeling grumpy and embarrassed. She had eaten the carrots though. And the lettuce. No reason to waste good vegetables.

She had asked him why he had chained her as well as locking her in the cage. He had just looked at her as if it was a silly question.

‘Rabbits run too fast,’ he had explained. ‘I had enough chasing pets when I kept mice. My little bunny will stay nice and shackled. At least until I’ve house-trained you.’

He had stroked one of Greta’s ears through the bars as he spoke. She had flushed grumpily, unclear why she wasn’t pulling her head away from his touch.

He had continued speaking. ‘Anyway, you’re pretty in chains. I like you like this.’

Greta couldn’t believe how quickly things had moved since she had woken up this morning.

Only five or six hours ago…

She had woken up drowsy, her head aching. She didn’t understand why she felt strangely uncomfortable until she opened her eyes and realised that her hands were cuffed and shackled tightly together, chained above her head to the bed.

Not just any bed either. Her own freaking bed.

Tugging on her legs revealed that her ankles were similarly cuffed and shackled, and chained loosely to the foot of her own bed.

‘You’re awake,’ came a man’s voice that Greta knew, and she rolled quickly on the bed to face him, her heart jumping into her throat. The man was lying on the other side of her bed, on his side, one of her pink pillows under his head, watching her.

It was the wolf.

Greta gasped in shock, pulling hard at the chains. It was the freaking wolf from her bookstore. The hot, handsome werewolf who she had been stupidly fantasising about for months.

Why was he in her house? And why was she chained to her bed?

‘W-what…?’ she asked, her voice stumbling over the words.

‘You’re safe,’ he said. ‘It’s okay, little rabbit. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. No-one is going to hurt you.’

‘W-what are you doing here?’ Greta asked, trying to sound angry and intimidating but only succeeding in sounding puzzled and confused.

‘Do you remember last night?’ the wolf asked, and Greta flushed immediately, misunderstanding.

Oh gods, she thought. I can’t have. Not with him.

But then she remembered. The previous night was a blurry mix of colours and smells and fear, a desperate feeling of being sick and disoriented, and running, running, running. Her legs and feet still hurt.

Something had happened when she was out, and she had panicked and she had run, fast and uncontrolled, through traffic and crowds, trees and bushes indiscriminately, hurting herself, running into people, unable to stop.

In the cool light of morning, Greta didn’t know what had happened to her.

‘I…’ she started to say, and then stopped. ‘I…’ she tried again. Tears filled in her eyes.

What on earth had happened to her?

‘It’s okay,’ the wolf said. ‘It’s okay. You’re fine. Your drink was spiked. There’s a nasty drug going around. It makes humans really sick but it has different effects on our kind.’

He pulled one of her soft blankets up around her, tucking it in close. Greta flushed with embarrassment to feel grateful to him for being so kind. The blanket felt so good, so comfortable and cosy and safe.

‘You’re safe now,’ he said. ‘The drug… I’ve seen it in wolves. It has a bad effect. Hallucinations. Anger.’ He shrugged, frustration rising off him. ‘Well, you can imagine. It isn’t pretty. We don’t know what’s in the drug but it’s different for everyone. It just makes the cats go weird. They see sparkles and follow their tails a lot, and other shit like that.’

Greta felt her eyes getting wider and wider as he spoke. He rubbed her shoulder, a platonic ‘cheer up’ gesture.

‘You’re okay,’ he said. ‘You’re safe now,’ he said, his voice soft and caressing her frightened body and brain. ‘I guess the drug makes rabbits panic. You were pretty far gone, you know. I was so scared when I saw you go out into the traffic.’

Greta just swallowed. She couldn’t speak. She remembered the traffic too. The flashing lights, the sharp blaring of horns and the screeching of brakes as she had run uncontrolled among them. She thought one of them had hit her but not enough to hurt her. And then the driver had been shouting and yelling and waving his fist at her.

‘Anyway,’ the wolf shrugged as if it was nothing. ‘I got hold of you and realised I wouldn’t be able to slow you down for ages. I didn’t want to call the cops or take you to a hospital.’

Greta flushed, nodding her thanks to him. The police were not safe for rabbit or wolfkind alike. No-one she knew called them unless they absolutely had no choice.

‘My doctor friend said you’d be fine if I watched you. She gave you a sedative, or you were going to hurt yourself. She said the hallucinations can come back any time for up to a week. You’ll have to stay restrained for the week.’

‘But it’s midsummer holiday!’ Greta protested. ‘I’ve shut the bookshop. It’s my holiday! My only holiday.’

Midsummer and midwinter were special times for most of werekind. Wolves often went hunting at midsummer, staying high in the mountains for the whole week. Cats usually found a warm and comfortable place to sleep.

‘I don’t have help in the bookshop,’ Greta said, trying to make the wolf understand. ‘I can’t ever take time off. But I always take midsummer. Every year. This is my time. I’ve got plans.’

She flushed, as she remembered her plans, suddenly hoping that he wouldn’t ask her about them. He didn’t need to know that she was a lonely little rabbit with no friends except for her books.

I’m going to sleep on the back veranda and wake up surrounded by books. I’m going to read books in the hammock. I’m going to go for a picnic in the forest with my book. No, I’ll take at least two books to the forest, because then I won’t have to come home when I finish the first one.

Technically, those were all plans. Reading books was a plan. It was even a good plan.

I’m sorry,’ the wolf said. He reached out a comforting hand and rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand, rather like someone would comfort a sad kitten. ‘It’s bad timing. But I’m not unlocking you for a week, at least.’ He paused. ‘Or, if you have someone I can call who can look after you, I’ll hand you over to them.’

Greta’s eyes sparkled with fire. ‘I’m not…’ she stammered to a stop. ‘I’m not a parcel,’ she muttered. ‘No-one is handing me over to anyone’.

She didn’t say what was actually in her head. But I don’t have anyone. Not anymore. There is no-one I can call. I have to be reliant on myself.

She tugged angrily at the chains. ‘You should unchain me.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not happening. I can’t take the chance that you’ll run again. What if you hurt yourself this time? What if the traffic doesn’t dodge the crazed bunny girl? What happens then? Crushed legs or a broken spine? Or what if someone else finds you next time?’

Greta hissed at him, the snarl of a grumpy, frustrated rabbit, and then immediately felt guilty. After all, he had stopped to help her when he hadn’t needed to. And she had been so very scared and alone last night.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. ‘It’s just… it’s my holiday. I had plans.’

‘I know,’ he said, his voice soft and kind.

‘And…’ she stopped. ‘You can’t look after me. I mean, you don’t even know me.’

‘I do know you,’ the wolf chuckled. ‘I’ve seen your shop. And now, I’ve spent the night in your house.’ He looked around at her bedroom, his eyes approving. ‘I stayed away from your books without permission. But I read your magazines. And I found your chains. I’m not even going to ask why a bunny has cuffs and chains, but they sure came in handy.’

Greta flushed. I’m not even going to rise to that, she thought.

The chains were the leftovers of the one time that she had tried to experience kinky sex. It hadn’t gone well. The memories of the miscommunications with that short-lived boyfriend were humiliating and embarrassing.

I trusted him, she thought, and he just laughed at me. He made me feel so bad and I’ve been alone ever since.

‘Anyway, I’m keeping you,’ the wolf smiled softly at her. ‘You’re cute. You can lie here, chained to your bed. Or I’ll take you to my house. I can chain you to the clothesline in the backyard. Keep you safe.’

Greta glared at him. ‘You’re not chaining me to a clothesline,’ she snapped at him. ‘No-one is chaining me to a clothesline. And I don’t even know your name.’

He smiled and it was like the sun coming out.

‘Oh, I forgot that. I’m Nicholas. Nicholas Ardern. I forgot because I know your name. You’re Greta. The book girl. Your store is the best place in this whole town.’

‘Well, you still can’t look after me…’ Greta started to say automatically, struggling to be angry with him. He liked her bookshop! Though, she guessed she had known that, since he was there every week.

Her brain caught up with something he had said earlier.

‘Wait,’ she said, feeling embarrassed all over again. ‘You read my magazines?’

‘All of them. Cover to cover,’ he said, grinning, and winked at her. ‘I figured that was fine, because I’ve got most of them all at home anyway. And I bought all mine from your store. No-one else stocks them.’

Greta flushed with embarrassment, from the tips of her fluffy rabbit ears and down her chest. Her magazines. The Light of the Moon. Wolfgirl Monthly. Born to Rut. Sugar Fluff Bondage. The last one was almost exclusively rabbit girls like her and the occasional cute bunny boy, tied up in rope and leather and chains…

‘I like how you’ve underlined the parts you like,’ he murmured, his eyes smiling at her with laughter in them.

Oh no, Greta flushed. She tugged on her cuffs again, suddenly desperate to get away. How dared he let himself into her house with her sedated body and chain her to her bed?

Yes, said her brain unhelpfully, how dared he look after you when no-one else was going to?

‘Foxgirls?’ Nicholas asked, referring back to Wolfgirl Monthly. ‘Really? In that latest edition of Wolfgirl? Hunted down and bred in the woods by the oh so cruel wolfpack? The female alpha of Clan Cairnfrost had something to say about that, I can tell you,’ he laughed out loud.

‘Though,’ he continued, as if admitting to something, ‘I’m pretty sure she would hunt a cute foxboy in her woods if she got the chance.’

‘You buy that magazine as well,’ blushed Greta furiously, muttering the words. She was so embarrassed. She was going to die. And he still hadn’t unchained her, the asshole. She didn’t know why she had been dreaming about him for months.

‘I do,’ he agreed equably. ‘And I’m partial to running down a cute foxgirl any day. I like to make them think they’ve escaped and then the pack surrounds them at the last minute. You need to punish them for thinking they have a right to be in the woods,’ he said confidentially.

‘When they see the big, bad wolves surrounding them, swords erect and bare, they usually roll straight onto their backs, begging to be taken. Unless of course, they faint right away when they see the size of our dicks, and we fuck them while they’re unconscious.’

‘Don’t laugh at me,’ snapped Greta, blushing furiously, tears starting in her eyes. How dared he laugh at her? ‘You bought that magazine too. Don’t tell me it was for the recipe on page 27 because you’d be lying.’

‘I didn’t buy it for the recipe,’ he agreed. ‘Actually, Wolfgirl is one of my favourites. They don’t have enough stories about soft, fluffy little rabbit girls though.’ He winked at Greta and there was a sudden tug on her heartstrings.

‘No-one does,’ said Greta.

Oh gods, I don’t need to fall in love with this man. Or in lust. Not any more than I already am.

‘But rabbit girls wouldn’t work in Wolfgirl,’ he said, looking serious.

‘Why not?’ ask Greta, indignant.

Nicholas chuckled. ‘Wolves don’t hunt rabbits.’

‘Oh,’ she said, her embarrassment mixing with humiliation at even having dreamed of being hunted by him. She tried to regain her dignity, which was hard, given she was chained hand and foot to her own bed. ‘I think you should unlock me now,’ she said grumpily. ‘I’ve been chained up by you for long enough.’

Nicholas chuckled again.

‘No,’ he said again, his voice flat, not admitting any debate. ‘You are well locked in, my girl, and that’s where you’re staying. Roll over.’

As he spoke he used his hands on her shoulders to roll her back away from him, to where she had been when she woke up. Greta felt the weight of his body settle behind her, his hand staying on her shoulder. She felt his breath hot against the back of her neck.

‘Rabbits run too fast,’ Nicholas complained. ‘No wolf wants to try to keep up with that. And…’ he paused before finishing his sentence. ‘And when you just think you’ve caught her, she ducks into her rabbit burrow, and it was all for nothing.’

Greta felt her breath catch in her throat as his hand started to move down her arm, before dropping off her elbow to caress her ribs, moving ever downwards towards her hip.

What the…? He was caressing her? Suddenly, Greta was very aware of Nicholas’ large body immediately behind hers, much bigger and stronger than she was. She felt acutely aware of her chained hands and feet, restraining her into position for him.

He caressed her plump hip with an exploring hand and Greta tried to keep her breathing normal.

‘I don’t want to chase a zippy little bunny,’ he said, dismissively. ‘And,’ he continued, ‘there’s not even enough eating on a bunny to be worth running down when you do catch her.’

‘Oh,’ Greta said again, her voice flat. That’s that, then, she thought, tears welling up in her eyes. She swallowed and try to speak.

‘Y-you…’ she paused then jumped straight in before she could lose her courage, feeling soft tears will in her eyes. ‘You don’t eat bunnies then?’

What the fuck am I even doing? I am going to get so burned.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Nicholas chuckled. ‘No point in hunting rabbits is all.’

His hand settled onto her hip, pulling her sharply back against where he was spooning against her. Greta gasped at the overtly sexual nature of the movement as his hand continued to hold her hard against him.

Damn him and his teasing signals, she cursed.

‘I like rabbit,’ he said, slowly, deliberately. His voice seemed to have dropped an octave. ‘Rabbit is delicious. We just don’t hunt rabbits.’

His top leg moved over her top leg, effectively holding her legs and hips in place. His hand started to explore upwards from her hip, moving across her vulnerable tummy towards her breasts.

‘Mmmm,’ said Nicholas, his voice approving as he found her breasts. ‘Very delicious.’ He caressed her boobs gently through her clothes while Greta held her breath.

If I don’t say anything, maybe he won’t stop.

‘We don’t hunt bunnies,’ he said. ‘We domesticate them. And then we keep them in cute little bunny cages. So that we can eat rabbit whenever we want, without all that stupid effort chasing them down.’

‘Oh,’ said Greta faintly, again. Her breath had gone weird in her lungs, like she suddenly couldn’t get enough air.

Nicholas’ hand closed around one of her breasts through her clothes and she gasped.

‘You’re very delectable, Greta,’ he said. ‘Why would I need to hunt you, when I’ve already got you chained up, right where I want you?’

He pulled her hard back against his upper body, so that she could feel the warmth radiating through his shirt.

‘I’ve got a cage at home just the right size for you.’ He snickered, a gentle laugh that wasn’t cruel or unkind. ‘I’ll even get a little plaque made. A label, with your name on it. For my pet in her cage.’

‘Oh,’ said Greta, thinking she really needed to find something different to say.

A cage… He wants to put me in a cage. Like a pet rabbit.

We don’t hunt rabbits. We domesticate them.

‘What is the point of having caught you, if I don’t get to keep you?’ he asked. ‘And from your weekly reading, and those doe eyes you’ve been casting at me for months, I’m pretty sure you’re going to be okay with this scenario.’

Greta gasped, embarrassment flushing right across her body. Her flush deepened as she felt her whole body react to his words, shivering with desire.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Nicholas flatly. ‘Get on your back.’

He pulled her over onto her back with his grip on her breast and Greta landed, breathing fast and shallowly on her back, looking up at him in wide-eyed shock. Nicholas crouched over her, one leg still holding her legs down, one hand beside her supporting himself, the other caressing her face with a gentle finger.

‘Such a pretty little rabbit,’ he said. ‘Your eyes glow like stars, and I love your fluffy ears so much.’ He cleared his throat, glancing down her body with a knowing grin. ‘Not to mention the rest of you. You’re a very delightful little package, Greta, and I want all of it.’

This can’t be happening, she thought, still flushing, struck dumb.

It was like Nicholas read her thoughts.

‘This is happening,’ he said flatly, looking straight into her shocked eyes. ‘I’m going to fuck you, little bunny. I’m not even going to ask you for your permission. Because I’ve got you right here in chains and I can do what I want to you. And you want me to fuck you, don’t you? You want to feel what the fox girls feel, when they’re taken by the big bad wolf.’

Greta felt breathless, almost winded. Wordlessly, she nodded, unable to believe what was happening. Oh gods, this had better not be a cruel joke, she thought.

‘Y-yes,’ she said, her voice scratchy. Every part of her body felt at attention, waiting for him to touch her.

Nicholas grinned, his hand exploring down the side of her face, back to her torso.

‘You want me to make you mine, don’t you, little rabbit? Because that’s what happens. The wolves fill the captive fox girls with their shafts and their seed, and then they own them. You want that don’t you? To be my little pet bunny girl?’ He snickered softly at her. ‘I’ll feed you carrots and lettuce, and pat you and stroke you through the bars of your cage. That sounds nice, doesn’t it, Greta?’

Greta was speechless, but she nodded.

‘I’m going to leave your hands where they are. You don’t need hands for me to enjoy you. I’m going to fuck you senseless, then I’m going to take you home to my house and put you in my cage.’

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• Capturing Clare: A Tale of Christmas Erotica
• Pleasure Doll – The Enslavement of Isobel
• Tatiana’s Awakening

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