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Preface:
This document contains contextual information of an adult nature.
Sensitive and/or non-adult individuals should delete this document
immediately.
If you are under 21 or you are an adult who does NOT wish to view
sexually explicit contextual material, YOU MUST LEAVE NOW!
By continuing, you are stating that you are an adult and understand that
falsely claiming otherwise is unlawful and may result in your
prosecution. You are hereby warned to conduct yourself according to
your local standards regarding the reading of adult erotic material.
The following is a literary work of adult erotic fiction and is laced
with tremendously immoral and strongly perverse sexual activities
between an adult man and a mythical entity that resembles an underage
girl. If you are the least offended by physical contact of a sexual
nature between an adult man and young female children, then delete this
file and be on your way. There will be no pity taken on or comments
accepted from anyone that does not heed this warning.
None of the events described herein ever took place nor were influenced
by the descriptions or deeds by any human being. Everything in this
fantasy was the creation of a single person's mind, where nobody was
touched, fondled, coaxed, or coerced into any sexual situation.
Enjoy this wicked reverie at your own risk and do not be surprised if
you find yourself aroused.
Eliston X. 'Ex' Gaulfre
Rewdius@gmail.com
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Faerie.txt
Turning A Faerie
Mg
Cons, Rom, Pett, Pedo, Oral, Piv, 1st, Preg, ScFi
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Prologue ---
I never expected to fall in love with, let alone meet a gossamer winged
faerie while on vacation away from my financial business and normally
hectic lifestyle. Turning her into my petite lover was a feat that I
couldn't have imagined possible.
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Venturing alone to my recently acquired and very remote mountain retreat
was something that I thought could restore my desire to strive for yet
more wealth than I already had. Since my ability to procure anything of
monetary worth was strangely twisted and mired into a kind of corrupt
hunger that had no end and no sense of satisfaction, I was little more
than an insatiably sick living greed machine who was absolutely devoid
of happiness . . . or single friend. In spite of my vast wealth and
anything it could provide me, I was a lonely, pitiful, and empty man.
My incredible affluence could have afforded me a vacation house full of
servants and personal attendants, but I chose for some strange reason to
gamble a few weeks completely alone in the quiet palisades along the
Rocky Mountains. I was certainly fit enough to chop wood for the huge
fireplace or draw as much pure clean water from the original outdoor
hand-operated well for water as I might need, but my home away from home
had all the conveniences of modern life and I'd only need to use my
muscles if I desired it. With an overstuffed pantry, fridge, and deep
freezer full of food and an ample supply of all the domestic necessities
for me to live alone very comfortably, I settled into my first few days
away from cell phones, crackberries, and fancy computers.
The near vacuum of silence almost drove me mad after the third day, but
with a growing need for rest, I opted for a few sleeping pills and a
tall glass of booze to take the edge off after the sun went down. By
the morning of the fifth day I was able to tolerate and even begin to
appreciate the absence of modern noises and the sound of people talking.
It took a whole week, but I was eventually able to relax enough to smile
about the natural beauty for the first time in a very long time.
It was while I was bathing one morning in a solar heated outdoor shower
with nobody around for miles that I actually laughed out loud for no
other reason than to express a kind of peculiar sentiment that seemed
particularly enjoyable. There I was in an astonishingly well appointed
open-air washing area standing nude in the sun with the gentle drizzle
of man made hot rain pouring over me when the urge to start laughing
washed through me like the act of a demented lunatic. It felt so good
to release my pent up tension that I cackled hard enough to make my
stomach hurt. I might have felt silly after I had collected my wits,
but it was a turning point for me and I was resolute in my desire to
finally get some much deserved rest.
Every conceivable convenience was available in my sprawling 3000 square
foot log mansion, except for contact with another human being, which was
intentional. I had an impressive array of photo voltaic solar panels,
an intimidating collection of deep-cycle batteries, and all the
equipment necessary to power my place as if I was living next to a
nuclear power plant, so electricity was no problem. Scattered around or
alongside the almost obsidian panels for my lights and power were nearly
as many equally ebony water heating arrays, their function clearly
enjoyed every time I needed any hot water.
There was even a proudly displayed 120 inch plasma TV with an integrated
entertainment system and satellite receiver that would have impressed a
media mogul, but I had no desire to be bothered with the disgusting
sound of needless banter, empty promises, or worse, bad news. I could
have kept up with every news event going on, in, and around the world,
but I intentionally chose to remain separate and apart from the folly of
my fellow man.
It was while I was facing the slate gray unpowered device that I
realized how desperately lonely I really was. I could have brought
along some empty-headed blond for physical and sexual entertainment or
maybe a bookish brunette wearing glasses to keep me intellectually
stimulated, but their presence would only have been possible if I had
stuck a crowbar in my wallet and paid them to be all the way out there
with me. Buying a woman's company would have ruined any genuine need I
may have had to fill the nearly sterile and completely silent expanse of
my domain, a whore better company because we would have both known what
I was renting and the reason for her attendance.
My thoughts drifted to a long deceased dog that my family had as a pet
when I was a young boy, his bionic tale hammering rhythmically against
everyones' thighs or any of the furniture when his name was called. His
attendance would have filled me with a welcome sensation of affection
because his love was uninhibited, unqualified, and unlimited. With
nobody around to hear or see me do it, I actually cried for a while
thinking of Jet, his smooth raven fur so soft to the touch and his
affectionate muzzle under my arm so welcomed when he sensed my lingering
discomfort. There was a kind of strange reincarnation for me each time
he graced me with his presence in my youth, no words exchanged nor ideas
shared, but more emotions and love sent back and forth between us than
any colossal library could have attempted to describe in words or fancy
photographs.
Who could rescue me from the living prison I had crafted for myself from
years of hard work and my resolute focus toward a goal that had nothing
to do with happiness? What living entity could possibly help me figure
out a way to change my life so I could find a real friend? I normally
had no need for other people and their selfish habits when I wanted to
be around a life that could love me unconditionally, but I also knew I
couldn't offer a dog or any other pet a happy life because of my busy
schedule and unpredictable hours. It wouldn't be fair to that animal
because their existence would be little more than professional walkers,
disinterested trainers, and veterinary technicians. I couldn't do that
to the memory of my former buddy, Jet, his worth amplified each time I
considered finding a friend to replace him.
There were a few days when I was little more than a living breathing
bump on my huge sofa in my sequestered retreat, my eyes filled with
tears and my heart heavy with a kind of emptiness that seemed boundless.
When I was eager to make my first million I was told by a few very
scholarly mentors that money was not the real goal nor would it buy
happiness, but I grinned at their foolishness and ignored their sage
warnings. Being told that rich people have the same problems as poor
people do but were just easier to ignore with toys and expensive
distractions, I scoffed and told the foolish old codgers that I was
eager to be thrown into that 'briar patch' just so I could find out for
myself if it was true.
Well . . . that briar patch of my mountain hideout might have been well
appointed, but it held no comfort and my money didn't seem the least bit
soothing as I fell asleep on the couch for the third night in a row.
Even with a king sized bed with the finest linens and flannel sheets
less than fifty feet away, I chose to lay back on the buttery soft
leather under a fleece comforter and stare at the fire as it devoured
yet another impressive log or two. By the next morning the log had
almost disappeared into a small collection of glowing embers, a few
determined flames licking toward the chimney in a desperate attempt to
stay alive. That fire seemed to illustrate what kind of life I'd
created for myself, nothing but ashes and long empty memories my only
companions as each day's flames consumed me.
The smell of something rather unpleasant broke the cloud of despair when
I shifted the small coverlet, my face still baby smooth because of laser
hair removal treatments, but my mouth reeking of the sewers of Rangoon
and my body odor something akin to a mobile home park downwind from a
huge metropolitan landfill. I'd so completely been self absorbed in my
own misery for the last few days that I'd allowed myself to get grimy
and unkempt. I felt truly ashamed for having ignored my own body.
While I laved a few day's worth of oils and sweat from my body I heard a
sound from my belly that seemed more like a desperate plea for help than
my stomach telling me that I hadn't eaten for many hours. Once I was
clean and much better smelling, I busied myself with thoughts of food
and refreshments. The taste of pure clean water was a strange and
welcome change from sparkling wines and alcohol laden glasses of liquid
relaxation as I filled the emptiness of my body. My soul was still in
need of much more, but there was nothing in my place that I could pull
off a shelf to fix that problem. To break the mood, I decided to leave
my house for a few hours and let the breeze drift through the open
windows while I was gone to air out the odor of a pitiful wretch that
lived there.
Hefting an impressive day-pack over my shoulders that was filled to
overflowing with food and non-alcoholic refreshments, I ambled around
the broad acreage of my private retreat with nothing more on my mind
than the beautiful view and the wonderful aroma of Nature. I could have
spent two or three days in the wild, except for my lack of equipment and
knowledge to avail myself of every natural convenience my property might
have afforded me. Returning to my place just as the sun was setting
over the mountains the same day I started out added a sense of mystery
and elegance to my arrival, as if the sun's rays pouring over the jagged
edges of impressive peaks was meant only for me to appreciate.
After everything from my day's jaunt was cleaned and put away, I settled
into a quiet meal on the porch facing the disappearing glow of the last
few hours of light. It added a strange sense of wonder to my spiritual
essence, as if for the first time in a long time I could cherish and
honor something as simple as the growing twilight. A winsome smile
somehow found its way onto my face, a burgeoning moment of brief joy
filling my heart as I welcomed a few minutes of mental concord. It felt
good to be aware of my own creation, but it was short lived and the pall
of desolation quickly stole whatever rapture the last rays of light had
unknowingly created.
Moments after I shrugged off the thoughts of my pitiful existence and
the painful seclusion that had nothing to do with my distance from any
human being, I was back inside my place. The cool breeze of early
evening wafted through the open windows as a few logs were strategically
put into the fireplace to do battle with the growing chill and I'd
eagerly stoked the fire into an impressive blaze. It didn't take long
before the entire room was gleaming with light and suffused with heat,
my butt parked close enough to the hearth so I could play with the fire
like a little kid. Of all the things that I could afford with my money,
using a simple stick to shift coals around in the controlled inferno
seemed a queer irony.
Rather than use the impressive collection of electronics as my modern
entertainment, I chose instead to sit on the floor near the wide opening
of the concrete and stone structure and just stare at the flames as they
consumed the wood that I'd placed there. The dance of colors and the
flares of light mimicked a ballet of living heat as the warmth continued
to surround me and fill the room with a radiance that should have been
enjoyed by more than one person. I had no idea I wasn't alone in my
hypnotic trance, my solitude and emotional heartache shared with another
living thing that was painfully bent on self destruction.
Something caught my attention as I sat there in silent awe of the fire,
a flicker of movement at the corner of my eye forcing me to twist my
head to see what might have drifted in through an open window. In a
perfectly involuntary act of mindless sympathy I swept my hand through
the air as quickly as I could toward what was ostensibly a large winged
bug that seemed bent on plummeting toward the intense brilliance and
consuming heat of the fire.
The moment I felt the weight of my captured prize, I knew it wasn't just
any old moth or hapless insect, but something much heavier and yet more
delicate. In my haste to rescue the foolish creature from certain death
I nearly crushed it in my grasp as I snatched it from midair. It was
only the bizarre sensation of it wiggling wildly in my grasp that forced
me to twist hard to the side in the same direction as my initial travel
so I could toss it into the protection of a blanket covered recliner.
Fractions of a second after it came to rest I could tell it was still
very much alive, although greatly disturbed by the manner in which I had
forced it away from its trip toward certain doom.
As soon as I was aware of my deed, I burst up off the floor so I could
examine what I'd unintentionally rescued, a quivering jumble of four
limbs and as many diaphanous wings wrestling with the heavy fabric that
had nearly surrounded it as it came to rest. My mind went blank as I
stared mindlessly at the nearly seven inch tall creature as it twitched
and trembled, the speed and intensity of the force from my careless act
to hurl it to safety causing it to look confused and disoriented.
The longer I stared the less I comprehended, the vision before me so out
of proportion with modern science that I wasn't able to come to terms
with the image I beheld. It looked very much like a mythical creature
that my mother would tell me lots of stories about when I was a very
young boy, a tiny alabaster body with silver hair and sky blue eyes that
I'd imagined as she read dozens of books about petite life forms
flitting about through the forest and acting playfully impish. But that
wasn't possible, elves, pixies, and faeries nothing more than the
ramblings of a creative mind to stir the hearts and imaginations of
immature children.
The moment our eyes met, I realized there was intelligence behind that
stare. The instant I heard its voice, I knew I wasn't dreaming. The
almost shrill timbre and babyish pitch made it seem to be female in
gender, my intense scrutiny validating that fact moments later. In my
desire to confirm who I might have saved from a horribly brutal death in
my fire I detected two small pointed buds on her chest, the obvious
absence of any external male genitals, and a very plump mound between
her full legs that was clearly defined by a deeply cleaved slit when she
shifted around to right herself.
"Why . . . why did you do that?"
"Duh . . . do what?"
"Capture me and toss me away from the fire."
My expression of surprise proved that I was completely unaware of the
reasons for such a fascinating creature to ask such a silly question.
"To keep you from being burned and possibly killed."
When she lowered her face and her body stuttered to a cruel cascade of
twitching jolts as she started to cry into her small hands, I felt more
pity for her than for my empty existence. That's when I realized that
she might have intended on ending her own life in the cruel and very
dispassionate blazing heat inside my fireplace. The only logical course
of action was to confirm what I had slowly come to understand.
"Were you trying to end your life?"
"Yuh-yuh-yes! I can't go on anymore! I'm an outcast to my kind and
feel as if I have no value at all. I'm nothing more than an empty shell
condemned to a life of loneliness and heartache. Why did you have to
stop me from my intended goal? Now I must escape you so I can find some
other way to end my life."
"NO! Please don't do that!"
The instant she heard my plea for her to reconsider her dastardly plan
she looked up from behind her cupped hands and I felt a truly strange
connection between us that was more than pity but less than love. Of
course I hadn't truly known what love was, except for a long forgotten
experience with a pretty girl in high school, so my perception of that
silly emotion was highly skewed and painfully distorted. What she asked
me next seemed odd.
"You . . . you . . . you don't want me to die?"
"Of course not! You shouldn't kill yourself because you're alone."
"Why not? Isn't life a means to share one's self with another so they
may join and bring life anew through tender physical union?"
"Well . . . yeah, I guess."
"Then . . . if I can't find another life to share mine with and my own
kind cast me out because of how shameful I seem to them, why shouldn't I
end my own life?"
"They cast you out? Why?"
"Because I'm so old, wildly distorted, and have yet to know the special
joy of a shared union that can only come from that unique bond between
two hearts and bodies when they join for hours and hours over and over."
"Old? You don't look old to me and you certainly don't look distorted.
In fact, I can't imagine a single reason for your kind to reject you."
"I'm practically ancient compared to my sisters. I've seen more
passings of the full moon than any other virgin faerie, and I'm nothing
more than a shameful example of an old maid to every one of my kind.
The fact that you can even see me is proof enough that I'm very unlike
anything that my kind would consider normal. I must look hideous!"
"But . . . you don't look more than ten or eleven years old to me.
Sure, you're incredibly tiny compared to my size, but you look so lovely
and have such precious little girl features that I can't stop looking at
you and you look incredibly beautiful . . . not hideous."
"Ruh . . . really? You WANT to look at me and think I'm . . . what did
you say . . . beautiful?"
"Of course! I haven't seen such an enchanting example of beauty since I
was a young lad myself. The fact that you're, uh . . . naked kind of
makes it hard for me to keep from staring rather crudely at you. I hope
you're not offended."
"Offended? Gosh, no! It actually makes me feel really nice to know
you'd be so kind as to want to look at me. My kind have been so mean to
me I've been hiding for a long time trying to figure out what to do.
When you came to visit me in my home I knew you'd have a way for me to
end my life, so I followed you and waited until you built a blazing fire
so I could dash myself into it in shame. And now you tell me that I'm
beautiful and you want to look at me. I'm especially pleased by that."
That's when the reality of her statement hit me. Was I actually looking
at and even ogling a pubescent winged creature that only existed in
stories and for lack of a better term, faerie tales? The term alone was
almost enough to make me want to sit back and reconsider whether I had
finally gone over the edge and was insane.
She must have seen a level of confusion and discomfort in my expression
because she then righted herself and sat facing me with her knees cocked
out, her feet tucked under her bum, and the view of her beauty clearly
evident. In her modified position I could easily see the two lovely
cones of breast tissue tipped with erect points that hid none of her
arousal and then familiarized myself with a more complete image of her
plump and inviting genitalia. She took on the image of a centerfold
model as she looked up at her admirer, every feature of her nudity held
open and meant to be displayed for my sole amusement and pleasure.
For the first time in my adult life I was openly staring at a little
girl's naked and bald pubis, even if that little girl was nothing more
than a tiny ghostly white apparition. When she noticed that I was
staring, she followed my gaze down her body, realized what had gained my
attention, and shifted her thighs slightly further apart as if to
display what had captured my interest more completely. To confirm that
her assumptions were correct she looked back up into my eyes and then
her whole body emitted a glow that could best be described as an intense
crimson blush.
"You're looking at my baby place, aren't you?"
The peculiar shrill timbre and slight tremble of her voice made what I
had done seem even more lurid and I matched her vermilion flush with a
face full of blood. Fractions of a second later we were looking deeply
into each others' eyes and I felt as if my whole body was tingling with
electricity. I hadn't felt that way very often, but when I remembered
that exciting temperament it usually had to do with the brokering of a
big money deal where my position wasn't nearly as strong as it could be.
That time, however, had nothing to do with money or power, but beauty
and nature, and unimaginable lust.
We must have truly been lost in our visual experience longer than either
of us realized, because we had to blink feverishly to wet our eyes after
we forgot to flutter our eyelids. That only added to our nervousness,
our bond slowly increasing without our awareness. It was only after a
few moments that I was able to process what she'd asked me, my head
going up and down to acknowledge her query. She then invited me to
confirm something that seemed immature.
"Does it look different than your mate's baby place?"
"Uh . . . I don't have a mate . . . a wife."
"You don't? That can't be! All you big beings have mates, don't you?"
"Well . . . most of us do, but I don't."
"Why not?"
"To be perfectly honest, I'm just not that nice a person. There may
have been women that I might have wanted in my life, but when I saw what
they really wanted it wasn't me that interested them but my wealth and
power."
"You have powers too?"
"Powers?"
"Yes!"
"I don't . . . understand."
"You know . . . like to be able to make certain flowers bloom and to
help other small creatures be healed when they get injured."
"Oh! No . . . I don't have those kinds of powers."
"Then . . . what KIND of powers do you have that you were saying those
other beings wanted from you?"
"The kind of power that money can buy or influence."
"Money? What's money?"
"It's . . . well . . . it's what people use to buy things."
"Buy things? What does 'to buy things' mean?"
"When we want to live in a special place like this and have all the
comforts of big cities, we have to buy the things to build it and then
the things that are inside that we use to sit, sleep, and eat from."
"Oh! We don't buy things. We just create them on our own."
To be humiliated by a petite, winged, white, and naked representation of
a little girl truly put me in my place. She had the power to do things
that all of the money in my entire portfolio couldn't begin to match.
It made me feel so small and worthless, as if she were more powerful and
had a greater value than I did. I actually felt myself slump down into
the floor and sit further away from her as if her presence intimidated
me, a full grown very successful, and completely independent businessman
nothing more than a long confirmed failure of my own kind, just in a
different way than she might have illustrated.
The realization of her abilities over mine burned a hole in my soul and
filled me with such emptiness that my face completely dropped and the
cold sensation of death surrounded me like an icy blanket. The funny
thing was, my Lilliputian visitor was the one that had attempted that
very act of desperation only moments before, and yet I felt as if it was
my responsibility to carry out her deed myself.
She must have sensed my despair from my body language and the pitiful
expression on my face because she called out to me in a much more tender
and affectionate tone.
"Have I offended you?"
"No, you just . . . you seem more fortunate than I am at the moment."
"I do? How?"
"You're not limited to the kinds of methods I use to gain power or add
to my vast wealth. Yours is a much more constructive energy and to be
honest, I'm not just jealous, but intimidated."
"Really? Of me?"
"Uh huh."
Her whole body seemed to glow a slightly brighter shade of white, her
lovely pink tint reduced but still evident. She then sat slightly
taller and tried to thrust her chest out as if to increase the size of
her small breasts so she could appear more enticing. That's when she
let out a brief yelp and immediately huddled into a fetal position.
"Eeeeeek!"
"What's wrong? Are you injured?"
"My . . . my . . . my back really hurts."
The pangs of guilt poured through me and I knew why she was in pain, my
careless and tremendously quick toss of her small frame into the blanket
enough to cause her some undetermined injury.
My first reaction was to lunge forward and cup her with both hands but
not actually touch her since she could be wounded even more. The next
thing I did was to lower my face close to hers so I could determine if
there was some outward manifestation or evidence of what I'd done to her
tiny body. I was so close, in fact, that when I breathed on her, she
whimpered and quickly lay herself out similar to how I'd last seen her.
"Mmmmmmmm! Your breath is so warm and your strength so apparent, I'm
unable to think properly. I've never felt anything like that before."
Once I realized what I'd done and how she reacted, I drew slightly
closer and then very softly blew a stream of air into the center of her
small body. She immediately moaned and began to quiver, as if the wind
from my lungs had enlivened her somehow. But rather than repeat my act
I leaned back slightly and waited for her to speak again.
"You . . . you . . . you've given me such wondrous sensations that I'm
not in pain any more. You've actually healed me, and I'm indebted to
you forever. Your powers are truly greater than mine and I will do
whatever you ask because you've restored my life to its once full and
complete form. You are my Master and I will obey anything you ask."
What had been intense concern for her safety was immediately transformed
into lust and lewd desires. How could such a petite and strange little
thing that looked so sexy and appealing want to be my slave?
In order for us to continue in a more normal manner I queried for some
means to identify her.
"What's your name?"
"Shirestilla Bright-Spark Snow-Pretty."
"Wow! Interesting name. What may I call you if I want to address you
without using such a long and impressive title?"
"You . . . you want to know my secret name?"
Shirestilla immediately blushed again, as if what I had asked her was
incredibly rude and a very personal tidbit of information that required
us to be better acquainted. Her stare into my eyes went from shock, to
slight fear, and eventually to a kind of hunger that I'd rarely seen.
"Is it wrong for me to know your secret name, Shirestilla?"
She hesitated for a moment, shifted around slightly, lay further flat on
the soft blanket, cocked her knees out, splay her thighs far more than
was considered appropriate in her nude state, and then did something
that took my breath away.
"No . . . I just . . . feel so . . . tingly that I need to . . . enjoy
what my body needs right now. Please do not be offended, Master, for
what you have given me is far more than I could have dreamed could be
possible. This feeling is so new to me that I can't control myself."
In the short time that she heard my plea for confirmation that I wasn't
entitled to know such personal information and I awaited her answer she
pushed both hands between her legs and began to masturbate. There was
nothing hidden or modest about her need to feel sexual pleasure, the
almost barbarous actions of her small hands and deft fingers stirring a
feeling in me that I'd rarely experienced.
As she lay there and quivered to the sensation of masturbatory delight,
her body began to undulate in small waves until her hips rose slightly
and seemed to be directed into my presence. I don't know what overtook
me, but I extended a single digit and lightly caressed along her left
arm. The silky smooth sensation of our touch filled both of us with a
burst of electricity, a simple caress enough to send her into a small
flurry of quick gyrations and moans.
"Nuuuuhhhhhh! Aaahhhhhh, sooooo nice! MORE, PLEASE!"
Acting as a provider of contentment rather than brutality, I lightly
stroked her arm again and then brushed her other one. She trembled,
jerked her hips up into the air, and began to flail wildly at her pud.
Her actions looked almost amateurish or naive, as if she had no idea
what she was doing. In spite of her nudity and in deference to any
measure of lust she might have felt and displayed, there was a clumsy
demeanor to her antics. She looked more like a prepubescent child in
that instant than anyone I'd ever seen before. But that didn't stop her
from maintaining an almost savage attack on her own body toward a
measure of bliss that was sure to come.
It didn't seem possible that I was gently caressing her arm with light
and tender strokes, her demeanor as if I had plugged her into an
electric wall socket and was turning the power off and on rapidly over
and over again. There was also a queer disconnect from any sense of
reality as I watched my own index finger lightly run up and down the
length of her small limb, a tiny being that looked more like a plastic
play toy in size than a living thing I could converse with. But there
was no illusion of how fully alive and animated my tiny guest was as she
masturbated and gyrated about, my touch enough to send her into a flurry
of movements and pitiful moans and whimpers.
Something about the way she moved beneath my finger hinted at a new need
that went unspoken but was obvious and clearly craved. Each time my
digit traveled toward her hands and fingers, Shirestilla would wiggle
her body slightly higher and thrust her naked hips further into the air.
If there was any more blatant hint being illustrated, I'd have been daft
and clueless to it.
The moment she looked deeply into my eyes I knew I was going to act on
her need and my hidden desires. All it took was one last lunge into the
air with her bare body and quickly moving fingers for me to act on her
tacit yearning for even more pleasure.
My finger was shifted to her tummy and then further down until I felt
her wrists around my digit as her small hands maintained their wild
movements. Her moans, skyward thrusts, and constant manipulation of her
body seemed to amplify what my invading fingertip was sensing, my tiny
guest anxious to experience something that she'd always dreamed of but
had never attained.
Rather than attack what she had possession of, I shifted my digit to her
widely splayed thighs, each lower limb gently touched and then stroked
in a back and forth movement that drew each full leg harder into the
intrusion. It didn't take long before she tried to grip my fingertip
between both appendages, as if she craved my touch more than anything
she'd ever felt before.
Still feeling very nervous about touching her where she was stirring
vast amounts of rapture from her own vulva and clitoris, I shifted my
digit further up her body and tenderly touched one and then the other
little breast. She actually let out a joyous wail that hid none of her
enthusiasm or desire to experience it a second time.
"AAAAAAHHH! YES! THAT FEELING! I've never felt that before, but I
need it again, please! Please touch me like that again!"
With a deft caress against her petite pointed cones of loveliness, I
afforded her a second, third, and then a continuous series of touches
that sent her into a cascade of stutters and quivers. The feel of her
little breasts and the firmness of her nipples stirred a kind of strong
need in me to afford her nothing more than utter contentment. As I took
great delight in stirring her body into a state of euphoria, I felt a
sensation within me that was no less enjoyable, my cock hard and my
heart beating wildly in my chest.
The finger that had been fondling her little boobies shifted down her
body, teasing between her arms and finally against her small hands as
they struggled to accomplish some unspoken and misunderstood need. The
instant she relinquished her grip and allowed me to touch what she had,
we both knew Shirestilla was going to have an orgasm, and a big one.
The plump and incredibly soft little pussy was like a living pillow for
me to explore, her arousal stirring an intense wetness from within that
coated my digit and bathed it with a kind of sexual lubrication that
made my touch that much more lurid. I literally painted her pussy,
hips, thighs, and lower tummy with her ample oily salve, the aroma of
her emissions so strong and sweet, it was as if I had coaxed a flood of
nectar or honey to burst forth.
Her scent drew my face in so I could take a long whiff of her excitement
and intense sexual need, my nose centered over my finger as I applied a
firm but careful amount of pressure against her alabaster body. But
Shirestilla had no compunction to repeatedly thrust up into my touch and
force her plump labia majora to conform to the surface of my finger.
She was the hungriest and most determined female I'd ever heard of, her
antics like a drug addict in the middle of withdrawal symptoms.
Something about the proximity of my face to her gyrating body stirred a
thought within me that I couldn't resist, my tongue extended and then
applied to her tiny but hungry and dripping vaginal opening. I wasn't
at all prepared for her reaction when I first licked at her bald vulva.
As soon as I touched her, we both knew it was the right thing to do, her
strangely guttural moan and upward thrust of her hips into my lingual
contact indicative of a woman with an intense need to feel complete
rapture. In order to provide it, I shifted my fingertip to her small
breasts and then applied my tongue to where her clitoris was hiding and
teased her nude body with my lingual appendage in an array of quick
flicks and licks.
Shirestilla immediately went into a cascade of involuntary gyrations
that signaled success, her orgasm building in intensity until she gave
me more and more of her sticky and sweet emissions to taste. I was
relentless in her pleasure, my tongue wiggled around between her full
thighs over and over, but not nearly as brutally as she had. True, I
was licking a little girl to orgasm and hoping I could keep her there
for hours, but neither of us were thinking logically at the moment and I
would have preferred never to wake up from that wonderful dream.
The moment I pressed my lips to her nude body, encircled far more of her
bald genitalia, hips, and thighs and gently wiggled the end of my tongue
against her vaginal opening, she lifted and then clamped her short legs
against my face, her heels digging into my cheeks as if she were riding
a magical beast bareback. It truly did feel magical for her legs to be
so tightly held against my face, both of my hands holding her limbs to
my face and my head lowered slightly so she could just lie back and
enjoy what I was affording her.
Shirestilla didn't know where to grab and had nothing to hold onto when
the greatest of her orgasmic tremors filled her body. All she could do
was repeatedly search for anything within reach, my flared nostrils the
only thing she could wrap her short digits around. That only made it
easier for me to take in her luscious and exotic aroma, a virgin faerie
exuding more pheromones than at any time in her long life.
The more I licked, the harder she came, and the more I wanted to keep
her in a state of euphoria so the spell wouldn't be broken. She was
just as anxious to give herself to me as I was to accept her willingness
to share in a lewd and highly erotic first sexual joining. There was
nothing about our lingual-to-clitoral and vaginal union that needed
words or false praise, her frequent whimpers, whines, groans, and
constant undulations into my tongue matched by my humming appreciation
for how utterly sweet she tasted and how incredibly soft she felt.
I might have overstayed my welcome that first time, but I was amazed at
how quickly we'd gone from two disparate and widely sized creatures in
my log home into a couple in absolute bliss and maybe even love. Not
more than thirty minutes had elapsed from the time I whisked her away
from death in my fireplace and I was face first between her thighs and
affording her unbelievable sexual rapture.
Her orgasms and gyrations slowed just enough to hint that I might be
harming her, so I reduced the pressure on her plump pussy and aching
clitoris and shifted my focus from pleasure to cleaning. Using a long
series of wide licks, I laved her pussy from her as yet unseen little
asshole all the way to her keyhole slit, where I had spent far more time
than I could have fantasized possible. Even as I was stealing the last
few drops of her nectar she was quivering and undulating her naked hips
into my repeated laps at her bare body.
It was only when I tugged against her grip of my face that I was able to
see how I had affected my petite guest, her body awash with virginal
dew, her eyes half closed in unconscious bliss, her tummy stuttering
from involuntary contractions, and her legs and hands reluctant to let
me go. It was very easy for me to lift her still attached to my face
and completely free from her reclining position on the softness of the
fleece coverlet, her grip so intense it was as if she was afraid I might
disappear or leave her unsatisfied.
To pacify and to provide for her relief, I cupped my hands under her
body and slipped my fingers between her back and her quivering wings,
the uncontrolled movements of her diaphanous airfoils making a low hiss
like a rattlesnake just before it lunged toward some hapless passerby.
Shirestilla was little more than a tiny woman in the aftermath of one
supremely sweet cum and I had to smile inwardly regarding my prowess at
a skill I never knew I possessed.
There was no desire within me to spoil her ecstasy, so I shifted upward
with my hands holding her in place, climbed up onto the recliner, and
cupped her midsection against my mouth so she could continue to savor
the continuous sense of pleasure that she had obviously never known
before. It was the perfect thing to do, my nude playmate reveling in
our new bond and my soul strangely at peace for the first time in my
life. We were a couple like none other, our size, relative ages,
backgrounds, and way of thinking so different and yet one very simple
need that drew us together -- Love through sex.
It took some doing, but I was finally able to figure out how to hold her
against my face and mouth and turn my head so I could lie down and get a
little rest. My greatest fear was somehow causing her great harm by
pressing against her smaller body and crushing her without knowing it.
Using some careful manipulations of the fleece cover and a couple of
pillows, I was able to cradle her in one hand, gently lick her plump
pussy with my skilled lingual tool, take in the lust as it poured out of
her small body in a series of aromatic waves, and grin as her heels kept
jerking and moving against my cheeks each time I hit the right nerve. I
don't know when I fell asleep, but I actually shed more than a tear or
two thinking that my time with Shirestilla would be at an end by the
time I closed my eyes or the sun rose.
When I awoke I was alone.
For a few moments I wasn't aware of anything around me, assuming nothing
about the previous night's sexual adventures. But when I shifted my
face slightly and felt a wet spot on the fleece blanket and took in the
heady aroma of my petite visitor's sexual arousal, I knew it wasn't a
nasty dream. But where was my tiny lover and why would she leave me
before we had a chance to share yet more wonderful moments of passion?
It took more than a few minutes for me to collect my wits and begin my
day as I had done so many times before, except that day was tinged with
an awareness of promiscuity and impropriety with a tiny female body that
would forever stir my heart to beat wildly and my erect cock to throb.
Instead of a hot shower outside, I decided on a cold one, the only way
to relieve the sexual tension and lessen the impact of my throbbing
penis so I could tuck it into my underwear after I dried myself off.
Breakfast was prepared and consumed with the same mechanical precision
of a robot, nothing in my immediate environment available to ease the
pain of loss or quench the fire of lust that poured through me like a
raging torrent. I'd been stung by the poison of lust and would forever
be tainted by an unspoken need that nobody would have any understanding
of, be sensitive to, or tolerant about. Who would believe me, after
all, that I had pleasured a mythical nude young creature with my fingers
and tongue for hours? If I was smart, I would try to forget it ever
happened and heed the advice of an older man with a questionable past
that was never revealed.
"Never share your darkest secrets with anyone who could use it against
you, Young Man. Trust is something that is a commodity beyond any pile
of money or softly whispered plea."
Beyond my highly questionable and horribly immoral deeds with a little
girl whose pubis was bald and smooth, the fact that she was no more than
seven inches tall would certainly qualify me for the loony bin.
The rest of the day was spent wandering around my property trying to see
if there was any evidence of my alabaster visitor, Shirestilla, but no
hints of her existence could be ferreted out. Yes, she had graced me
with her presence and shared her body with me for untold minutes since I
had that fleece blanket stained with her sexual arousal, but other than
a wonderful memory and a single scrap of fabric that exuded her delicate
fragrance I couldn't find any other proof of her anywhere.
Acting on the belief that other troubled faeries might try to repeat her
attempt at a horribly cruel demise, I installed a rarely used fireplace
screen after stoking it to a bright inferno that night. Most of the
windows in my oversize cabin were closed, except for the ones that faced
the fireplace. I wanted those windows to remain open so she could flit
back into my presence for one more wonderful visit.
But it wasn't to be. By the time I woke up the next morning, the fire
was almost out and I was yet again by myself. It seemed as if I had
served some cruel purpose that was never to be repaid or spoken of ever
again. In spite of how utterly spectacular it felt for her to be with
me and for me to gently stroke her nude vulva from ass to clitoris with
my tongue for so long, I began to hate her for stealing any vestige of
false happiness while I was at my weakest. She was cruel for using me
to help her regain her self worth like a whore uses her John for money,
and I slowly began to hate Shirestilla for having abandoned me.
The next few days were like so many of the other ones, empty, lonely,
and forcing me to come to terms with my conviction that my life was
meant to be enjoyed at a distance and by other people. I bemoaned my
fate and even had thoughts of my own demise because of my sense of
desolation. Thankfully I chose to stay out of the fireplace when it was
lit as the wood inside slowly turned from cellulose fibers to ash. As
strange as it seemed, I actually convinced myself that I might need to
drive into the closest town and buy a young dog for company. I wouldn't
be able to have sex with it, but at least I'd have some companionship.
It was while I was laying on the couch in front of the fire the next
night that I felt more than heard or saw the presence of a small winged
creature near my head. The light breeze from her cellophane wings and
the whisper of four airfoils beating rhythmically overhead was like a
distant dream that I needed so I could remember who I'd visited with
before. Rather than move, I closed my eyes and began to cry, the sense
of emptiness so strong that I was allowing my mind to create the
illusion of my lovely and erotic little naked guest nearby.
"Oh, Shirestilla! Why did you have to go away? I could have loved you
and given you a nice place to live if only you had told me what you
needed and what I had to do so you could be happy. Now I wish I hadn't
been here because I'll spend the rest of my life waiting for a life that
will never return. Why, Shirestilla? Why did you have to come into my
life and then fly away before I could tell you that I loved you?"
In a scene that would have horrified many of my peers and business
associates, I broke down and sobbed into the same fleece blanket that
she'd landed on when I caught her in midair and tossed her away from the
fire. In a queer twist of fate, I rescued her so she'd be free to live
on and find another living thing to love.
I was so miserable that I even created the aroma of my once horny little
faerie, her perfume wafting through the air as I clutched the smooth
fabric of the coverlet tight to my face. Sure, it might have been the
salt spray of my tears that reinvigorated her scent, but my mind was so
intensely affected by her memory that it seemed as if she was right
there near my mouth once again. I could almost feel her presence and
ached to reach out so I could touch her small body and stir another
series of uncontrolled orgasms from within.
"Please don't cry!"
My eyes flew open and standing at the edge of the cushion in her nude
glory was the very life that I had been aching for, Shirestilla.
"You're back? You're here?"
"Of course I'm here! I couldn't go away and leave you all alone."
"But, where did you go? I missed you!"
Rather than answer me, she immediately blushed and walked closer to my
face, gently laying over my mouth as she spread her full legs. Moments
after I felt the weight of her small form leaning against me, I became
aware of her naked pubis being rocked and wiggled against my lips, that
heady aroma of her arousal wafting into my nose like the sensation of a
fine blend of champagne and honey. It didn't take long after I felt a
single drop of her excitement against my mouth that I extended my tongue
to capture it, and then a little further so I could take my next swipe
at her pussy.
Instead of talking to me, Shirestilla chose to urge me to turn my face
so I was lying on my back and she was squatting over my mouth with her
tummy against my nose. All she had to do was undulate her naked pussy
into my lips and I began to afford her that same wicked pleasure that I
had grown accustomed to the first time. Because of her small size and
the petite features of her genitalia, I wasn't able to discern much more
than the tight slit that split her labia majora. That didn't stop me
from mushing her plump fat pussy lips around and tease wickedly at her
tiny vaginal opening and what had to be a little clitoris hidden deep
between the upper portion of her keyhole slit.
Shirestilla mewled and whimpered to each of my explorations, her high
pitched voice stirring a chill up and down my back even though I was
practically burning up between the fire and passion for my tiny lover.
The only sounds that could be heard for the next two hours were her high
pitched moans and the crackling of the fire as it consumed yet another
log or two.
She was just as insatiable as I had become, each wicked little cum
shared with a generous supply of her sweet tasting nectar from her plump
and exquisitely nude little bald pussy. I have no idea how many times
she orgasmed and had no desire to keep score, because the only thing
that was important was her presence and her need for me to make her feel
good for as long as was possible.
For the remainder of the night I kept my tongue gently working up and
down that lovely split of hers, ample lubrication afforded me as I kept
up a constant and gentle series of licks between her thighs. She was a
veritable endless well of orgasms and involuntary gyrations as her body
provided all the comforts of her youthful exuberance as was possible. I
even softly caressed her naked backside and legs as she stuttered and
came over and over and over again. Once I was sure she was too
exhausted to fly away, I cupped my hand over her back, slipped my
fingers between her still quivering wings, and held her onto my face so
she couldn't leave.
When I awoke that next morning, I was lying on my right side, she was in
my right hand cuddled tightly to my right cheek, her sexy little toes
were wiggling between my lips, and her soft warm body was held tightly
against my face. It felt so erotic for her little naked digits to
tickle my tongue and she didn't seem to mind when I'd suck on her feet
and lick her small appendages from back to front. It was almost as if I
was giving her a new form of physical and sexual stimulation because her
hips, even in her sleep, kept undulating into my cheekbone and her plump
vulva dripped with arousal. Shirestilla seemed to have far more energy
to have sex than she did to fly or talk.
It was difficult to appreciate her beauty with her so close to my face,
but what little I could focus on was like a dream come true. In the
growing light of day I could clearly make out more details of her tiny
form and I reveled in what I saw. Her petite breasts were capped with
incredibly erect nipples and surrounded with a pastel circle of tender
flesh that signaled her level of arousal with little bumps close to her
nubbins. Her face was that of an angel, almond eyes that were slightly
larger on her face, as if from an exaggerated stylized painting of an
orphan in need, her bee-stung lips overly plump and turned downward in a
perpetual but sexy little girl pout, a button of a nose that looked more
like an afterthought than a functioning orifice for her to breathe from,
and her whole visage dimensioned so perfectly she could have been carved
from the finest doll maker in the world.
As she slept I tucked some of her silvery hair behind her right ear and
reveled at her small aural features. Her ears weren't nearly as pointy
as I imagined they should be, for a faerie anyway, but they were large
enough that it took little more than a gentle single swipe along the
softness of the outer edge to send a wave of tingles all the way through
her small body. That's when I realized that she was prone to and
utterly helpless from being overstimulated by the most gentle or
innocent of caresses. I never imagined giving a woman a cum just by
lightly fondling her arm, butt, chubby legs, or even her ear, but
Shirestilla was completely under my power even as she slept, her hips
again undulating into my face when I stirred her body into sexual revolt
before she woke up.
The moment she opened her eyes, I saw a new sparkle that I'd never seen
before, my enlivened little visitor beaming at me in wicked pride and
her eyes far more intense than I could have dreamed of. She then said
one word in a hushed whisper that answered more than a single question,
but was a prelude to so many more.
"La."
"Pardon?"
Her intense blush and downward cast eyes told me that she was providing
something that I needed to cherish and remember for the rest of my life.
"OH! La! That's your "
The instant she flashed her horrified gaze at me I knew I wasn't
supposed to say any more. She had graced me with that one tidbit of
information that was to remain a treasured piece of personal data that
was meant to be shared with only one person -- her Master. My voice was
lowered to a mere whisper as I looked at her bright white and still
quivering little body and confirmed what she must have thought.
"I won't ever say your name out loud, La. I'll use your normal public
name when I need to call you, and will use your secret name when we're
close and able to touch each other just like this."
A single lick with an extended tongue between her legs brought an
intense hiss from her mouth, forced her eyes tightly closed, her tiny
fingers to grip anything within reach, and a forward lunge from her
naked hips. Moments after I was lightly pressing my lingual tool into
her plump and delicious twat she celebrated in yet another cum. She was
so easily stirred to arousal that I needed to be more than careful and
needed to tender each of my moves with the tenderness of an owner and
Master like none other. She shuddered and convulsed for a few seconds,
whimpered pitifully, and wordlessly told me that she needed a rest.
Holding her body as if she were made of paper-thin crystal, I allowed
her to lay back into my palm as the last of her rapture poured through
her bright white form. La was a prize like none other, my soul lifted
to heights never before imagined as I gazed down at her quivering little
frame. Her physique was so completely perfect that I found it hard to
believe she was considered an outcast by her kind, her pointy titties so
lovely and erect, her plump cunny to soft to my caress and lingual
appreciation, full legs that gave me cause to munch on her without
taking a bite, a round bubble butt that ached to be touched and kissed
over and over, a face that stole whatever strength I thought I had, and
a demeanor that any pedophile could have dreamed of.
There! I said it! I was a pedophile after all. There was no escaping
what I loved and craved, a little girl's body wrapped up in a petite
figure that reminded me of a doll one of my younger cousins would play
with when she was eight or nine years old. Shirestilla was a living
manifestation of a play toy that any man on the planet would desire and
fight for, her willingness to call me Master beyond any treasure or room
full of money I could pay.
It was going to be difficult to call her by her complete formal name, so
I opted for a modified moniker that was both descriptive and personal.
"Are you okay, Pretty?"
Her face burst into a sexy vermilion display, her eyes squinted as she
stared back at me, and her smile lit up the area around us. In an
unintentional act of familiarity I had used a reference that wasn't
normally shared between two of her kind until they had been joined in a
formal ceremony of a permanent natural union -- essentially, marriage.
"Yes I am, Master, thank you."
Master just wouldn't do, although there was a strange pride that filled
me at the sound of her high pitched voice after she spoke that bizarre
and yet familiar word.
"My name is Teddy, Shirestilla."
"Is that all, Master? Teddy?"
"No . . . my name is almost as long as yours."
"Please tell me, Master. I promise to honor and cherish your name."
I felt humbled at the reverence she pledged to something that I thought
as quite simple and typical of human identification. What I didn't know
was the very intimate nature of sharing names and most importantly, a
secret name only to be used between two lovers.
"Theodore Brendan Cotswald."
"Theee . . . Theee . . . Theodore, Master?"
It was obvious my first name held some mystical significance to her.
"Yes, Shirestilla. Theodore."
With no warning at all she suddenly dropped to her knees, crossed her
forearms in front of her body, cupped her opposite shoulders with each
small hand, lowered her face in some queer affirmation of something that
I had no knowledge of at the time, and bowed before me. She trembled
and shook as she knelt before me, as if I had abruptly been elevated to
deity status. It was one of the most troubling sensations I had ever
experienced and the mood went from tender affection to utter worship.
"I . . . I . . . I'm not worthy, Master! Please grant me your leave to
take my rightful place at your feet so I may honor and pay homage to my
true Lord and Master. I know I'm not pure and righteous enough to be
this close to you and beg for your forgiveness for having treated you as
I would a common living being. Please pardon me for having not been a
true faerie princess as your teachings have instructed, for I am not
noble of the honor to be in your presence."
All I could do was stare at her as I lie on my side, a sexy and nude
little mythical creature bestowing such high praise and undeserved
adulation upon someone like me, a rich and lonely loser.
"No, La. Please don't treat me like that. I'm not deserving of your
homage. I beg you to look me in the eyes so I may show you that I'm
merely a mortal man and a poor and pitiful example of one at that."
"NO, MASTER! You are my true Lord and Master and I have been waiting
for a day that I thought would never come. You can't be as you claim, a
pitiful being that is nothing more than a typical mortal. It is only
now that I realize how blessed I am to have been saved from the eternal
curse of damnation by the one living being that I've dreamed about and
waited for since the first time I felt the pangs of need. Please,
Master, please do not tease or mock me by pretending that you are not my
one true love and the soul that I have endlessly fantasized about since
I was nothing more than a tiny creature with no knowledge of joining.
Even though I have tasted the joy of rapture from your touch many times
over and the . . . the tingles that your tongue has provided to my baby
place, I don't deserve such pleasure and feel ashamed that I took
advantage of such astonishing contentment. What may I do to prove that
I know my rightful place at your feet?"
In an act of utter tenderness I reached toward her with my left hand and
gently caressed her right arm near her shoulder, and I then cupped my
digits around her small body, sampling from the silken feel of her naked
flesh. I was able to feel her whole body shudder as I applied the
lightest touch to her bare skin, her plump and very round little girl
ass pushing backward into my digits and strangely much more anxious to
be fondled than her attitude might have indicated.
A new idea sprang to life in my head, a way to grant her the room to
honor who she believed to be her Master and a means for me to give her
much more freedom to move and resume her previously casual attitude.
"I command you to look into my eyes, Pretty!"
Her blush looked so sexy on her, a quivering smile on her face proof
that she liked how her new love treated her. Rather than appear as the
frightened and timid little creature she did her best to portray, she
immediately lifted her face and looked straight into my eyes as if she
was doing her best to obey my command with every measure of her
strength.
"You say that I'm your Lord and Master, right Pretty?"
"Yes, Master!"
"And being your Lord and Master, you must obey everything that I say?"
"Yes, Master!"
"Without question? Be honest, Pretty, for you know what's in your
heart, even if you say words that betray what you feel inside."
She didn't even hesitate for a second.
"I'll always obey everything that you say, Master, no matter how strange
or frightening your orders may be . . . for my whole life has been a
poor attempt to live to the standards of my kind so I may be worthy of
this very day."
I let the full effect of her statement sink in before I said anything.
"Then . . . "
Shirestilla trembled but never shifted her gaze away from my eyes. She
was bound and determined to follow my orders to the letter.
" . . . I command you to treat me as you did before you knew my name."
Her face immediately went completely snow white and her body seemed to
lose half of its energy. Whatever she thought I might ask of her was
overtaken by a much more confusing and less understandable order.
"You . . . you . . . you wish me to treat you as a mere mortal, Master?"
"Yes, Pretty. I want you to act as if you knew nothing of my name or
how it has affected you."
Whatever joy or respect she had for me was suddenly in question. She
knew it was imperative that she honor her Lord and Master in the only
way her kind had ever understood, and yet she was also aware that she
had an obligation to obey any command that I issued. Her confusion was
written all over her face, her already sexy pout even more pronounced
and her bottom lip quivering as if she was about to cry. My mouth then
uttered something that drove us further toward a love that was truly
inescapable and her into a soft cry that stole whatever strength I had.
"Come be with me, My Love. Hug me and let me feel the warmth of your
lovely body so I may share in your energy and give you as much or more
than you give me. Here, Pretty . . . come here."
Rather than hide from the depth of her tremendous affection for me or
stay away from my touch any longer, she rose to her feet and literally
plunged her body into my face. It felt as if I had gotten a hold of a
tiny vacuum cleaner or the grip of a small octopus, because both her
hands and feet wrapped as far around my nose and mouth as she could.
La sobbed into my face and kept lauding me with dozens and dozens of
little kisses, as if to bestow a lifetime's worth of affection in just a
few seconds. I felt so ashamed of her level of respect that I wasn't
able to hold back my own salt spray, huge tears welling up in my eyes
and falling down to her left hand as she did her best to keep a tight
hold of my face.
When she felt the first of many drops cascade down my cheek and wash
over her small hand, she immediately looked horrified. How could her
true love express sorrow after she'd done her best to show respect and
reverence? But what seemed a more bizarre than her facial expression
was what she did with a handful of my tears, her left hand shifted
toward her face until she extended her tongue and took a single swipe.
The moment she tasted my pheromones and the intense sting of salt, I
felt her whole body shudder against my mouth and nose. She literally
went into a seizure, her muscles completely out of control and her eyes
blank and glassy. Whatever was in my tear began to affect her far more
violently than how my fingers or tongue had.
I lay still in horror as she continued to jerk and stutter over me, my
fears so strong I couldn't lift her off my face so I might be able to
provide some measure of comfort. But even if I had tried to shift her
up off my face and onto her back in my right hand it would have been
impossible. She had a grip on my flesh so hard it felt as if she was
trying to break the surface of my skin, the sting of pain so intense it
was as if I was being stung in two places, and then bitten in two more.
Thankfully her spasms slowed and her face took on a more relaxed and
conscious appearance, her grip slackening until all she was doing was
lying over my face barely able to hold on. That was my cue to gently
slip my right fingers over her back, between her wings, cup my digits
around and then slightly under her nude body, and then left her up off
my face so I could see her more completely.
But rather than just ogle her like some zoo specimen, I cradled her in
my right palm, rose to my right elbow, and then lightly caressed her
body with the tips of my left fingers until I saw a shaky smile form on
her face. Stroking her in a gentle series of tender fondles stole
whatever trepidation she had a moment or two before, and she quickly
returned to a much more carnal demeanor as her naked hips undulated
toward my touch. It didn't take very long before I saw the makings of
another sweet cum, her high pitched whimpers the perfect audible
accompaniment to the more obvious gyrations of her pussy into my digit.
Her orgasm quickly overtook her and turned whatever manifestations of
pain or discomfort from my tear and transformed it into a sensation that
she had already enjoyed and was growing increasingly dependent upon.
She then softly uttered words that I had no strength against.
"I . . . I . . . I love you, Master . . . Theodore!"
My mouth then spoke a phrase that I'd only whispered into my mother's
face just after she put me to bed when I was a little boy, the addition
of La's second secret name the only unique aspect of my utterance.
"I love you too. I love you with all my heart, Pretty."
As I barely whispered her second secret name and the one that meant more
to her than even her real secret one, her orgasm peaked and she began to
convulse and jerk in my hand, every one of her muscles contracting and
then relaxing in a wild array of irregular tremors.
She looked so exhausted by the time her body quit writhing about in my
hand that I actually grew afraid for her safety. There was a familiar
weak and painful look to her countenance that I recognized, so I dared
ask what I might be able to offer her to rejuvenate her strength.
"Tell me, Pretty. What can I get you so you can feel enlivened again?"
With barely enough strength to lift her right hand and gently caress my
lips, she quivered and trembled as she whispered up into my face.
"You're so good to me, Master. I've waited for you to find me all my
life, and now you're here and I . . . I . . . I couldn't be happier."
It might have seemed difficult to kiss the palm of her hand, but she
understood what I was trying to do and bent her wrist so I could apply
my oversize lips to her petite appendage. After two small labial
embraces, I grinned at her and whispered again.
"What can I get for you, Pretty?"
"Duh . . . duh . . . do you have flower nectar, Master? I know I'm
truly impertinent for asking for such a glorious prize, but I'm very
weak right now and I know how quickly my body will recover if I take a
mere sip of the finest flower nectar."
"What about honey, Pretty? Would that be similar to flower nectar?"
"Huh . . . huh . . . honey? Yuh . . . you have honey?"
"Yes I do, Pretty, as much as you'd like."
Even though she was incredibly tired and almost unable to move, she
couldn't help but cup her mouth with her small hands and quietly sob
into them. As her body stuttered she had a look in her eyes and let a
little smile escape from behind her fingers that told me she was
actually very happy about what I had just offered.
Rather than risk her growing any weaker, I held her in my right hand and
carefully shifted my body upright until I was able to turn, press my
feet to the floor, and then stand up. Moments later I was walking
toward my huge kitchen and oversize pantry. I knew exactly where the
clear glass bottle was and on which shelf I had last seen it. Without
even having to think about it, I clutched it in my left hand and carried
both of my prizes to the kitchen counter where I tenderly let Pretty
come to rest on her knees.
She was really unsteady, even at her reduced height, so I looked around
the counter and found the perfect support mechanism. Moments after I
collected it, Pretty was leaning against a wooden toothpick holder that
was ornately carved to look like a miniature blue whale. She seemed to
appreciate the gesture because both of her hands gripped the top edge
and helped to keep her slightly vertical.
Time was against me and her strength quickly failing, so I twisted open
the metal lid, dipped the tip of my right index finger into the golden
ambrosia just enough to collect a single drop, and then presented my
digit to Shirestilla. She actually looked frightened at my offering, so
I stuffed my finger into my mouth, sucked the sweet contents away and
then used my middle finger to collect another small sample.
Moments after I presented her with a thick viscous syrup of intense
sweetness, she held onto my finger beyond where the slowly dripping
liquid stopped with both hands as if to attempt her first fellatio. She
then extended her tiny pink tongue and took a single tentative lick that
immediately filled her body with electricity, her whole form billowing
up as if she had been injected with a blast of air.
Her facial expressions ranged from confusion, to euphoria, to lust, and
finally to absolute contentment. Once she'd swallowed what her tongue
had collected, she leaned forward and took another lick, and then
another, and another, until a fair portion of her amber bounty had been
consumed. Once she'd sated herself, she slowly crumbed under the strain
of absolute satisfaction and lie back onto her wildly disheveled wings.
My poor Pretty looked drunk!
I had to giggle as I finished what she wasn't able to, the top carefully
replaced on the container and the glass jar returned to its place in the
pantry. The sample of honey was just enough to stir an intense hunger
within my own larger body, so I fixed myself a peanut butter and jelly
sandwich, found some favorite chips to munch on, and then served an ice
cold glass of root beer.
With Shirestilla lying in a drunken heap and her tummy slightly bulging
from her enormous meal, I smiled while I ate my version of food and
watched her. She burped once, immediately covered her mouth in shame,
and grinned up at me as if she realized her blunder only after it had
been committed. My smile and a single wink was all she needed to feel
better about her bad manners, her hands tugging two of her wings over
her face in a mock display of embarrassment
She looked to incredibly sexy as she lie naked with her legs splayed out
and her arms hugging her diaphanous wings to her face. When she giggled
like a little girl, I couldn't help but chuckle with her, both of us
feeding off each others' energy until I was laughing hard and holding my
tummy with one hand while I tried to keep possession of my sandwich in
the other. In those few moments we shared so much that we needed, her
tiny body quivering from her high pitched titter and my oversize one far
above in a much lower tone.
It didn't take long for me to finish my meal, clean up the area, and put
everything away. Once the kitchen had been returned to its normally
sterile appearance I considered yet another of Pretty's needs.
"Would you like some water, Pretty?"
Her facial expression mimicked that same disbelief that anyone could be
so considerate for her, and before she could start crying I lowered my
face to her level and softly whispered.
"If you cry every time I get something for you, Pretty, you're gonna be
really cried out before the first week is out. Just relax and get used
to me taking care of you from now on, Pretty, because I'm not about to
lose the best little thing that's ever happened to me."
It wasn't absolutely necessary for me to tug her legs further apart and
then give her a nice lick between her thighs, but Pretty didn't seem to
mind as she thrust her naked pussy up into my tongue. I didn't torture
her or give her an orgasm, but I did make her feel incredibly horny and
at ease at the same time.
Feeding and then providing Pretty with water was going to be a bit of a
challenge unless I got creative. That's when I remembered a small eye
dropper that was still in the sterile wrapper sitting on the first shelf
of the bathroom medicine chest. With another lick, a kiss, and a wink I
informed my little lover what my plans were.
"You stay right here, Pretty, and I'll be right back."
In an incredibly shrill scream she immediately informed me that she
didn't like the idea of me disappearing to places unknown.
"NOOOOO!!! Don't leave me, Master!"
Her wail was so heartfelt and pitiful that I reconsidered my actions,
gently lifted her into my hand, and then tucked her into my shirt
pocket. It was just deep enough for her to stand in and hold the top
edge of the fabric if she wanted to see where I was headed, but she
preferred to squat down and fold her body until she was tucked tightly
in a fetal position. She looked so delicate and fragile in my pocket as
she stared up into my eyes, especially because of her highly inebriated
condition.
The short trip to the bathroom was conducted as I had many times before,
the eyedropper located, removed from the protective and sterile clear
plastic wrapper, and then held under the faucet as I turned the cold
water tap on. With only a fraction of an inch of water in the clear
glass tube, I urged my pocket-rider to rise to a squatting position so
she could take a drink.
"Get on your knees, Pretty. You need to help me just a little."
It took her a few seconds to regain control of her body, but once she
was in a modified vertical stance, she accepted the tip of the proffered
glass tube with both hands and began to gently suckle on it with her
eyes closed as if it were her mother's teat. She looked so virginal in
my pocket holding the huge clear tube and slowly filling her need with
cool clean water, none of her actions hinting at any other deed that my
mind might normally consider.
There was a strange and very comforting sensation of well being and
contentment as I helped my tiny naked visitor refresh herself, my
actions not really that special or unusual, but certainly far from
anything that I might have done a month before when I was around other
people. Shirestilla had irrevocably altered my life and my thinking in
ways that she may never full comprehend or even be aware of.
Once she'd had her fill, she gently pushed the tube away from her face
and then settled back down into my pocket. Moments later, she had her
eyes closed and fell asleep. It was only then that I realized I'd need
to get her up and out of her temporary secure location so I didn't hurt
her as I conducted my normal daily routines.
It took a little while but I was able to carefully tease her up and out
of my pocket after I fashioned a place for her to sleep so she'd be
protected and safe. It might have looked like an odd arrangement to
anyone else, but after I finished my task I looked down and smiled.
Using one half of a brand new pair of running shoes that I'd never worn,
primarily because I detested anything related to being healthy, I
stuffed one shoe nearly half full of bright white cotton balls and then
tucked a clean handkerchief inside to act as her bed sheet and cover. I
even took the time to fold it in half lengthwise so there would be two
layers of material both under and over my precious cargo. The laces
were carefully stitched back and forth into the orderly array of crossed
lines until nothing could dangle dangerously and get tangled in her
wings or arms if she became confused or alarmed in her temporary bed.
As I helped her nestle inside, she quickly became accustomed to the
generous softness of her new bed and snuggled in a half fetal position
with a little smile on her face. Her actions were conducted as if she'd
always slept in my shoe and within the comfortable confines of the
cotton and cloth assembly. She even carefully tucked her long wings
behind her body and made sure they wouldn't be damaged by an unusual
twist or turn while she slept. Moments after she stopped moving I
leaned my face forward, placed a single kiss on her head, and then
arranged the fleece blanket on my couch so she'd be surrounded but not
enveloped in secure softness. It looked strange to create an altar of
my shoe upon my couch, and after she turned to her side and snuggled
under the handkerchief cover nothing could be seen of my tiny guest.
With her taken care of so she could have a nap and recover her energy, I
did my typical housework from vacuuming to cleaning the master bathroom.
I really didn't need to do all the work myself, but since I'd become
self sufficient and had little use for overpriced and potentially
criminal cleaning people running freely inside my house, I assumed a
very domestic role and threw myself into the work as if I knew nothing
more and had no greater ambition in my life.
My tasks took far less time than ever before primarily because I was so
highly distracted by the thoughts of my newest little guest. Each of my
actions were so well ingrained in my mind that there was no need for me
to actually think about anything I did. Before I realized it my chores
were complete and I was standing back admiring how efficiently I was
able to work with something other than my loneliness on my mind.
When I returned to the couch I lifted one corner of her coverlet and
peeked inside, Shirestilla was quietly slumbering and possibly dreaming
of her new life with an oversize being that she had devoted herself to.
I couldn't resist the opportunity to share an hour or two with her on
the couch, so I conscientiously climbed on and lie with my back against
the upper cushions and my face toward the shoe and my sleeping visitor.
I even brought the open end of her small bed close to my face so my body
heat could provide a measure of warmth if she needed it. Before I knew
it, I was fast asleep and dreaming of Shirestilla and me doing things
that little faeries and humans weren't normally capable of.
A gentle tickle stirred me to wipe my lips with my left hand, the
sensation of a butterfly or bee lighting on my mouth forcing me to send
it away to find something or someone else to land upon. When the soft
tickle happened a second time and I brushed my lips to erase the tingle
placed there, I heard a tiny high pitched giggle. I was stirred awake
moments later and looked down at my nude visitor as she sat up in the
opening of my shoe and smiled at me.
"Hello, Master! I'm sorry if I woke you but I couldn't help but touch
your soft lips and imagine how wonderful it felt when you pressed them
to my baby place the last time. I know I'm a naughty faerie, Master,
but my body has been tingling and aching for some more wonderful time
under your loving touch. May I lie upon your face so you can lick my
baby place while you sleep a bit longer?"
"You truly enjoy being licked by your wanton Master, Pretty?"
"Oh, YES, Master! It gives me such great pleasure that I can think of
no other pastime that I could share with my Master for the remainder of
my days. It fills me with such joy that I don't feel worthy afterward,
but I still crave it so very much. You aren't displeased, are you my
Master?"
"Not at all, Pretty. Come . . . lie upon my mouth and let me give you
as much pleasure as you'd like. When you've had enough, be sure and
tell me or I might overdo it and hurt you."
"Oh, NO, Master! You couldn't give me too much pleasure! My body has
been waiting for this since I had my first hunger pangs, and when . . .
"
Her abrupt silence seemed so unusual that I leaned my head back slightly
and tried to discern what had caused her to discontinue her thoughts.
"What, Pretty? Tell me."
She nervously fumbled with the edge of the handkerchief while averting
my gaze, something troubling her so much that she just couldn't say
anything for some reason. After more than five seconds I wasn't able to
wait any longer and leaned all the way forward until my nose loomed in
front of her small face.
"Tell me, Pretty . . . I command you."
She immediately looked up into my eyes, shifted her position slightly to
assume a more regal posture, and then softly began.
"My thoughts were inappropriate for a moment, Master. Please forgive me
for letting my mind wander and assume so much."
"Tell me your thoughts, Pretty. I want to know what's troubling you and
what you were dreaming about a few moments ago."
"You'll be angry with me, Master."
"Look into my eyes, Pretty."
Her intense stare literally burned into my soul.
"Pretty . . . you need to share with me everything that you had in your
mind when you stopped talking. If I'm to love you and keep you as my
very own, I must know how you think and what needs you have."
"But . . . "
She lowered her eyes and seemed tremendously uneasy about something.
"I won't be angry, Pretty. I promise."
Her eyes once again drilled into my heart as she looked hard into my
stare, nothing between us except for a few inches of air. It took her a
few moments to collect her strength, but once she did, Pretty leaned
forward, gave my face a hug, and then leaned back.
"Please understand that I never knew I'd be honored by someone of your
size, Master, because I always thought my lover would be from my own
kind. I forgot for a moment that you're such an impressive creature and
my Lord and Master, and I am but a little faerie with a body that is no
match for your wonderful stature. I was so taken by my dreams of a
happy future with my new lover that I . . . I . . . I believed we might
be able to, um . . . you know . . . couple."
Any pretense of innocence or ignorance of what she was implying was
immediately lost, my little naked visitor talking about having sex. It
made me blush and smile to think that she'd be willing to even consider
something as lewd and immoral as someone my age drilling her tight
little girl pussy and filling her full of my seed.
"Is that what you want, Pretty . . . to couple with me?"
"Oh, YES, Master! More than anything!"
"I guess it's too bad we're so different in size, huh? If you were more
like me or I was more like you, we could share that sweet union for as
long as you and I wanted. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, Master! It would be the fulfillment of every dream I ever had.
You see, I've never joined with another and have always longed to know
how it feels for my baby place to be full with baby seed. My mother and
sisters always told me it would be very special, but I needed to wait
until I found that special life to share my joy and energy with, so I've
been waiting for him . . . for you to come along. But when I started to
grow, felt the pangs of need within my body, grew familiar with my baby
place, and reveled in the many pleasures it could bring if I touched
myself just right, there was nobody who would help me. None of the
other faeries or even the pixies wanted to be with me because I was so
different. All I could do was slowly grow bigger and anxiously wait for
the day when my love would come . . . but I was always alone."
She hesitated for a few moments, tugged one wing around her right arm
and played with the edge as if to inspect it very carefully for some
unknown reason.
"I'm not like other faeries, Master, and it shames me to be so strange.
The dimensions of my oversize wings and body are inversely proportional
to my not having been loved and sexed at an early age by my creator. He
was lost during a bad storm many many moons ago, before I was ready to
be joined with my true love, so I wasn't able to feel what it was like
to couple with him nor was my body properly conditioned like all my
sisters before me. I slowly grew larger and larger and became a freak
for my kind to laugh at and mock, and all I could do was ignore them and
hope some day to find a way to leave my home so I could make my own way
or maybe even . . . maybe even end my own life because I wasn't worthy
of it. Even my mother was ashamed of me for not finding another life to
take my creator's place so he could break my baby seal and couple with
me in our home and bring me back to my normal size. My many smaller
sisters frequently yelled at me to go find a life that would be willing
to share my body so I could bring him into our home and share him with
my mother and her many other daughters."
Talk about a randy little group of faeries!
Her tears slowly grew in her sumptuous and sexy eyes and I could tell
she wasn't far from a long cry, so I gently caressed her arm opposite
her wing and whispered for her to stay focused.
"Tell me more, Pretty. I need to hear much more because I'm fascinated
with your story."
She immediately looked up into my gaze with tear-sprayed lashes and let
a little smile escape her sexy pout.
"Really, Master? You truly wish to hear about my pitiful life?"
"Your life isn't the least bit pitiful, Pretty. In fact, I think your
life is far more interesting than any other that I've ever known about.
Now, please continue with your story, or I'll lay you down and lick you
until you succumb to my naughty wishes."
My broad smile and leering wink made her giggle and cup her mouth as she
blushed, her legs splayed and plump yonni pushed slightly forward as an
open invitation to do just as I had suggested. I knew what she wanted
and I needed, but I still had to learn everything I could about her and
why she nearly ended up in my fireplace. To afford her a tiny measure
of contentment, I gently splay her knees, lowered my face to her pud,
and gave her three nice long licks so she'd have the incentive to finish
her story. As I was pulling my tongue and mouth away from her naked
sweetness and the incredibly tasty nectar of her arousal, she whimpered
at me and tried to keep me where I was.
"Nuhhhh! More, please Master!"
"Not yet, Pretty. I promise I'll give you as much pleasure as you want,
but I need for you to tell me everything about you, okay?"
"As much as 'I' want, Master?"
"Yes, Pretty. As much as you want."
"Well . . . okay. Since you promised, but may I play with my baby place
a little bit while I tell you everything? I feel a very strong need to
buck and thrust and make all those wonderful tingles dance around my
body like a million sparkles of light."
"I tell you what. Why don't you lie back, get comfortable, and I'll
give you a little bit of pleasure? It won't be a LOT, mind you, but
enough so you'll be ready for when I lick you for as long as you want."
"Truly, Master? You'll touch me and help me feel pleasure, even when I
tell you about myself?"
"Yes I will, Pretty. Now, lie back and let me see your baby place."
Rather than do as she was told, Shirestilla lunged forward into my face
and gave me another one of her cute but very ardent hugs. I then heard
her muffled plea that filled me with more energy than she must have
gotten from her honey repast.
"Oh, Master! I love you so much! I can't believe I'm here with you."
She was so enthusiastic about her desire to be a part of me that I
tucked my fingers of my left hand between her wings and against her
back, cupped my right hand around her plump fanny, and allowed her to
keep her place for over a minute. When I felt her ass pushing back into
my right hand I knew she needed some relief, so I tucked my middle
finger between her full thighs and lightly stroked back and forth along
the soft wetness of her vulvar cleft. I stirred a small flood of sexual
need with that lurid caress, her butt undulating back and forth as she
pressed down into my nasty fondle. My poor little horny playmate needed
a cum and I knew to give it to her.
"Lay over my mouth, Pretty. I think you need some pleasure right now."
In a husky and very carnal voice she whispered back.
"Nuuuhhhh! Oh yes, Master. Please, some pleasure would make me feel so
good right now."
It took her no time before she mounted my mouth like a saddle and rocked
her nude vulva between my lips until my tongue laved her pussy and gave
her the first wave of rapture. She immediately flooded my mouth with
her copious emissions and lost whatever control she had, rocking her
hips back and forth in a highly immoral display of sexual need. My
tongue washed over her pussy in a combination of wide sweeps to claim
her wetness and then very intense focus on where her highly sensitive
clitoris was safely hiding. If I had actually found it and converged my
energy and the tip of my lingual tool on that little nub she would have
been screaming.
As it was, she was moaning, whimpering, and gyrating over my mouth for
over ten minutes, her body so out of control she seemed to be running on
autopilot. I truly enjoyed her pleasure as much as she did, the only
work I had to perform was to lightly press up with my tongue between her
full thighs and stir her body into a nearly continuous orgasm that
seemed endless. I could have allowed her to remain over my face for the
rest of the day, but I needed to do something that was far from erotic
or romantic.
Interrupting her almost perpetual cum wasn't what I wanted, but it was
what had to happen or I'd be a stinking mess in two minutes. Thankfully
Shirestilla was so blitzed by the last few minutes of orgasms that she
didn't fight me when I lifted her off my mouth and lay her into her
makeshift bed. Before she had a chance to complain I climbed off the
couch and dashed toward the bathroom.
Fortunately I returned just as she was starting to regain her senses,
her uncoordinated moves as she tried to climb out of her bed and her
drunken expression telling me that I needed to be a bit more careful. I
assumed the last location prior to my disappearance and tenderly cupped
her small nude body in one hand snugly to my face. She seemed to feed
off my energy and within a half minute was ready to resume her rather
unbelievable story.
"Thank you, Master. You always make me feel so incredibly alive when
you give me so much pleasure. It's more than I could have ever hoped
for, even when I was a little faerie and before I grew so big."
"I'm glad I can help you feel good, Pretty. Now . . . please tell me
more about your life so I can learn all about my love."
"Your love, Master?"
"Yes . . . La. MY love!"
She was so moved by my claim that she crumbled into a sobbing heap of
bright white nude little faerie. Each of my actions and verbal petitions
were so much for her that I was getting more uneasy about what I said to
her so she wasn't a constant bundle of emotional outbursts.
"Come here, My Love. Come press your lovely body against me so you can
know that I'm right here for you . . . now and always."
My overwrought naked little partner barely had enough energy to stumble
closer and then fall into my palm so I could hold her to my right cheek.
She cried for a few more minutes and gently caressed my face as she lay
her own right cheek against mine. What a strange enigma we were, a tiny
mythical creature who was in tremendous need of love and sex, and a full
sized human being with an ever greater need to feel love and friendship.
I didn't push her for any further information for the next few hours,
her body slowly huddled tight to my neck under my chin as I fell asleep.
When I awoke, she was gone. At first I thought I might have crushed her
under my huge bulk, so I carefully shifted my body up and delicately
examined the blanket and shoe for any evidence of her presence.
Nothing!
But rather than feel horrified about her departure, I tried to resolve
any need she might have had to quietly slip away. Maybe she needed to
do the same thing I had and didn't want to interrupt my sleep just to
tell me that she needed to go pee or something.
The sun was close to the horizon so I knew it was already fairly late,
so I stoked the fireplace, returned the screen to its location so
nothing would accidentally make its way inside, and then set about to
make myself a small dinner. Each of my moves were tendered with an
intense need to twist and turn so I could look around the wide area of
my quiet home away from home, hoping Shirestilla was just about to flit
back into my life as she had before.
Just as I was sitting down to a big bowl of soup and bag of crunchy
cheese twists I felt more than heard the rustle of four cellophane
wings. I just about spilled the bowl of soup on the counter as I turned
to see my tiny visitor carefully approach me with a small bundle of a
few private possessions in her grasp.
"Are you okay, Pretty? I got scared that you left me."
"I'm sorry, Master, but I didn't wish to awaken you. You seemed to be
so happy while you slept that I decided to depart and return before you
knew of my disappearance. I guess I took a little longer than I had
hoped. Please don't be angry with me, Master. I just needed to get
some things before I gave you my life."
"Gave me . . . what do you mean gave me your life, Pretty?"
Instead of answering me right away, she smiled and provided me a facial
expression of contented bliss and absolute love. She truly was affected
by me and everything that I said and did.
"I love you so much, Master. Each time you call me by my second special
name, it fills me with such tingles, it's almost like you were licking
my baby place."
A huge evil grin was the perfect way to hint that we could return to
that sweet pastime if she wanted, but my meal needed to be finished and
I also needed to hear about the rest of Pretty's past.
"Come sit with me and tell me where you went, Pretty. You can tell me
about giving me your life when we sit down later for a nice long talk."
"Yes, Master."
She set her things upon the clean counter and then carefully arranged
them so I could see what they were as she began to describe them.
"This is my hair comb, and this is my washing bundle, and this . . . "
She carefully showed me each of her personal items and then described
each one as if it was a requirement before she was allowed to bring them
into my home.
" . . . and this last thing . . . this is my private toy that I, um,
that I . . . please don't be angry with me, Master, but I didn't know if
you'd ever come along, so I needed to please myself and make my baby
place feel really nice almost every . . . well . . . every day, anyway."
She held up a fairly impressive phallic implement that looked far larger
than could possibly fit inside her incredibly tight little slit. I
actually got hard looking at the highly polished piece of wood, its
dimensions quite demonstrative of a nicely fashioned penis. I had to
give her credit, because it looked as if it could stir more than a few
aching bodies if it were correctly proportioned for women of my size.
In a soft whisper I made sure she knew I wasn't offended.
"It's okay, Pretty. I'm not offended or angry that you've needed to
make your baby place feel good. In fact, I'm quite proud of you for
being so creative."
"You . . . you ARE?"
"Why yes! Your determination to wait for your true love to come along
and attempt to satisfy yourself with your nice toy until he . . . I
arrived proves that you're far more imaginative than any little faerie I
could have hoped to invite into my life."
Even as I was talking to her, I could see her hips starting to slowly
and rhythmically undulate and her hands attempt to secretly bring her
toy closer to where it had served its owner well for uncounted days and
nights. When she realized what she was doing and that I could see what
she was about to do, she immediately placed her toy onto the counter,
closed her thighs to prevent either of us from seeing or having access
to her plump yonni. She then looked up at me in unrealistic shame, as
if I might chastise her for acting so sexily. I knew how to handle her
trepidations instantly.
"Do you need to feel that special pleasure with your nice toy in your
baby place, Pretty?"
Her crimson blush told me everything I needed to know, but I waited to
hear her infant-like high pitched voice confirm what I suspected. All
she was willing to provide was a nod from her downward turned and highly
embarrassed face. She looked so sexy in her wanton innocence that I
wanted to pick her up and lick her until she collapsed from exhaustion.
But, watching her fuck herself with her little wooden dildo seemed far
more erotic so I caressed her back and bum with a few fingers and softly
whispered.
"How about if I finished my meal and then took my little lover with me
to the last place we spend some wonderful time together? Then I can
watch you play with your toy and give yourself pleasure."
"You . . . you want to watch me, Master?"
"Uh huh! I think it would be fun and really sexy to see you enjoy
yourself like that."
Whatever blush she'd ever provided before was nothing compared to what
her whole body did after I told her that. She must have been horribly
humiliated at my wanting to watch her conduct such a nasty deed, because
she didn't have the courage to look up while I finished my meal.
The bowl was practically licked clean, the crunchy snacks put away, and
a small glass of fruit juice tilted up and the contents washed down my
throat. It was only after I began to wash the few dishes that I became
aware of my social oversight that I hadn't offered my little partner
anything.
"Pretty? May I offer you something to eat?"
Rather than look up at me, she nodded while staring at her small hands
as she nervously fumbled with her fingers. I didn't have a lot that
might be considered palatable to a mythical winged creature, but I did
have a sealed bag of fruit meant as a snack for hikers, a number of cans
and plastic bottles of various fruit mixes and cocktails, some varieties
of vegetables in the safety of my deep freezer, and plenty of tightly
sealed pouches of meats in the fridge.
I wasn't sure how she'd react to the heavier stuff, so I retrieved the
same large container of fruit juice and dashed off to the bathroom to
reclaim the same eye dropper that I'd used to give her water before.
She greedily sucked up quite a bit of that sweet liquid ambrosia and
tumbled rearward onto her back and ass giggling when the last of the
bright red liquid had been drained from the clear glass tube. I could
tell she was thoroughly elated at the highly refined and sugar laden
liquid, something that she obviously wasn't used to. Her drunken
demeanor was my clue that whatever tales I was anticipating from her
were going to have to wait until much later. She was so out of it, in
fact, that she began to offer a strange tune that sounded like a bird
singing, a shrill but very entertaining melody that could have been a
copy of a whole flock of little feathered creatures.
In order to assume a more normal routine, I decided to collect her few
things, place them in a small open container that she would call her
very own, and then carried her and the rigid cardboard matchbox with her
possessions inside toward the living room. The entire time she was in
my grasp she played with her hair, kicked her legs all the way out and
even reached up toward my face with an extended naked foot, teased me
with her wiggling toes, and then giggled furiously at the image of me
trying to claim her small appendage with my lips as she quickly drew it
out of my reach.
My little playmate and tiny lover was absolutely knock down drunk. The
highly refined sugars and concentrated flavors must have been much more
than she could handle and I was beginning to reconsider what I should
feed her or let her drink. But until she helped me obtain a greater
understanding of her normal culinary requirements, I'd have to dilute
anything I had in the house so she wouldn't get blitzed each time she
ate my proffered meals.
What she began to do next took me a little by surprise but I wasn't
about to stop her from acting on her carnal needs. Using her small but
deft fingers she began to masturbate herself and then fuck her pussy
with two and then three small fingers. It looked hideously erotic to
see my drunken guest pleasure herself like that, one of her small
possessions considered for her use.
"Would you like your pleasure toy, Pretty?"
"Nuh, nuh, nuh . . YES, Master!"
From within the small cardboard box I withdrew the highly polished and
very phallic sliver of wood and teased her with it, keeping it just out
of her reach as she waved her free hand wildly in the air to claim it.
"No, Master! Don't tease! I need it!"
Acting on the belief that she might like some minor assistance, I
slipped the wooden splinter between my lips, gave it a couple of licks
and was elated that it still tasted strongly of her aroused emissions.
"Mmmmmm! faerie juice!"
She giggled and squirmed around while she continued to masturbate
herself, gently reaching up with her free hand to inveigle me to give
her what she needed and what rightfully belonged to her.
In a matter of a few seconds I saw the bulbous end of her dildo approach
and then disappear between the plump fold of her vulvar slit, a strong
hiss coming from my petite and quite drunken visitor as the sensation of
coital pleasure washed through her body. She drew the smooth and barely
dampened device within her vagina in little thrusts, as if she were
trying to mimic what her faux male suitor and lover would do, a greater
portion of her sexual toy vanishing a little at a time. By the time it
was completely out of sight save for the hooked handle, Shirestilla was
in the early throws of orgasmic release, her hips undulating into the
air toward my face and a look of lewd desperation in her eyes.
After I was able to comprehend just how much of her toy had been worked
inside her tiny body I was mystified . . . and humiliated. How could
such a tiny creature push something that looked so large into her tight
pussy and make it completely vanish? In proportion it seemed as if it
might have been over twelve inches long to a full grown human female.
That alone made me feel horribly inadequate, since I couldn't offer her
more than half that. If we ever were able to have sex, she'd most
likely be horribly disappointed.
My tiny lover was quite familiar with self love and held nothing back as
she increased the speed and zeal of her antics. Her moans and whimpers
took on a whole new dimension as she lunged back and forth into her
tight pussy with that wickedly fortunate inanimate object. I craved to
feel what it did as she writhed around and thrashed in and out of her
body with such an unfeeling piece of discarded and carved wood. When
she saw me smiling down at her with a look of intense lust she couldn't
take the strain and literally screamed her release, her body going hard
and rigid for a few moments, and then undulating and convulsing in a
continuous involuntary reaction to coital liberation.
There was a feeling within me of a young sailor on a weekend furlough as
she slowly came back down to a more calm and submissive state, my penis
just about as hard as her small wooden toy as she drew it back and forth
from the slick and snug confines of her tight vagina. I begged to be
able to make love to her at that moment but knew the difference of our
sizes prevented me from even admitting my smallest digit within her
body. Talk about frustrated!
With only a modicum of assistance from my tired but very satisfied
guest, I gently dabbed the copious wetness away from her plump and
slightly reddened vulva with a corner of the blanket, then from her
wooden dildo, and finally from the palm of my hand directly under her
fanny. She was a real mess for a little while, but with my help she was
returned to the same dry state and allowed to relax. Her dried toy was
returned to her new storage box and once everything seemed in order I
placed a single kiss on her nude and very sensitive cunny.
By the time I was ready to lay her down on the fleece blanket she wasn't
nearly as conscious and giggly as she was on the way out of the kitchen.
She was, instead, displaying the demeanor of someone that was fighting
staying awake or barely in control of their faculties. I don't know
what spurred me to consider it, but her posture and the way she kept her
bum pressed into my hand hinted at something that I'd already taken care
of myself. In the warmth and flickering light of the fire, I sat close
to the side of the couch, reached over the broad arm to a box of soft
tissues on the lamp table, retrieved two, and then prepared to offer my
assistance with something that was normally a very personal activity.
The first tissue was bundled into a tight mass and then gently placed
under her bum and slightly between her full thighs. She unconsciously
resisted my help for a few seconds, but once her biological needs were
greater than her embarrassment she relaxed and let go. Moments later I
felt an intense warmth in the small bundle of paper and became aware of
a rather unusual odor that was neither foul nor highly offensive. In
fact, it seemed to smell more like flower pollen from a very unusual
tropical plant rather than human waste.
Once she'd relieved herself she seemed to take on the attitude of a
little baby, her legs flopping open when I gently pushed her backward
into my palm. It was a simple matter of wadding up the first tissue and
then using the second to completely wipe her clean and dry. Considering
where I was going to pleasuring her when she needed some attention, I
carried her in my slightly closed hand to the bathroom, tossed both used
tissues into the commode, and then retrieved a bright white plastic
bucket that contained a whole roll of disposable baby wipes.
Since I was going to clean her bum and pud anyway I figured I could give
her a bath instead, so I lay a thick cotton cloth in the bottom of the
sink over the open stopper and ran the water just long enough to make
the water more than cool but less than hot. Next was a travel sized
plastic bottle of ladies' bath soap that I had gotten on one of my most
recent road trips, the top removed, the sink stopper closed, and a small
measure allowed to pour out into the slowly filling sink. With the
contents about four inches deep and full of big bubbles I gently lay
Shirestilla in the water and kept my right hand against her body so she
wouldn't be afraid.
I'd never washed a drunken woman in my life and my tiny playmate was my
first experience in such a strange bathing task. I even found another
travel bottle of shampoo and used no more than a single small drop to
produce a huge mass of foam on her head. I actually got really horny
giving my little intoxicated lover a full bath, carefully washing her
silver hair, rinsing it with a slow dribble of water from the tap, and
then tenderly scrubbing her creamy white skin until the area around us
was filled with the aroma of vanilla and lavender. It didn't really
take that long to go from the top of her head to her tiny toes, some
help provided by the tipsy faerie for the areas that I couldn't get
access to because of the gargantuan size of my fingertips. Once she was
clean, I rinsed and then gently dried her with a thick cotton towel.
She was asleep by the time I carried her back to the living room.
After I tenderly slipped her sexy nude body into her makeshift bed in
the flickering light of the fire, I just sat and watched her sleep for
over an hour. She quivered a few times and mumbled 'Master' once or
twice, but for the most part she lay perfectly still and sucked her tiny
right thumb. She was the epitome of a neonate angel, an innocent prize
that I had no right to corrupt with my wicked and carnal ways.
A wave of tremendous guilt poured through me at the prospect of my
'turning' or polluting the naive beauty of my formerly distraught faerie
and coaxing her to be my playmate and impossibly small lover. Even as I
felt a deep regret for having touched and pleasured her with my tongue,
I couldn't deny the fact that she was intent on destroying her own life.
Had it not been for me her life would have been forfeit and nothing of
her existence would remain. In a slow progression of moves I eventually
lay down in the same position I had the previous night, her crude man
made bed brought to my face so she could be as close to me as possible
when I shut my eyelids.
Morning came much quicker than I might have realized, or I slept far
better than I had in a long time. Thankfully my tiny white guest was
still where I lay her in the bed, Shirestilla's body completely covered
by the double thickness of the handkerchief but a single arm extended
from underneath so she could touch me with her small hand. My smile
grew from nothing to an intense face-filling grin in a second when I
became aware of her need to sense my presence, even in her sleep.
Before she awoke I rose from the comfy couch, now my second sleeping
location, and disappeared to the bathroom to take care of my normal
morning business. I had just enough time to sit on the commode and wash
my hands before I rushed back to check on Shirestilla. She was just
beginning to stir when I squat down on the floor in front of the couch
so I could watch her greet the new day with me.
"Morning, Lover!"
She immediately turned toward me, blushed, and then grinned. Her dream
must have been particularly pleasant because she wiggled her way out of
the snug sleeping arrangements and stumbled over the disheveled blanket
toward my face. As soon as she was close enough, she knelt down,
crossed her arms over her chest, cupped her hands over her shoulders,
bowed her head, and then softly whispered.
"I bid you a great morning, my Master. I am honored and proud to be
yours to command and enjoy."
"Rise to your feet and greet me as my lover, Pretty, not as my slave."
She cupped her hands over her mouth and giggled and then did as I asked
her to, launching herself forward into my face once she was on her feet.
"Morning, Master!"
In a light whisper, I answered.
"Good morning, La."
"I love you, Master. I hope you will always know that I love you with
all my heart and soul. It is my duty for the rest of my life to give
you happiness and do everything I can to see you smile."
"Gee . . . that sounds strangely like what 'I' was going to say to you!"
"<Tee-hee!>"
Her giggle was like a narcotic to me and my need to hear it seemed to
grow with each aural experience. After she gave me a few kisses on my
nose and cheeks, she sat back on her haunches and seemed to notice the
aroma of the highly perfumed soap I'd used the night before to wash her.
"Master?"
"Yes, Pretty?"
"Why do I smell like a pasture of lovely flowers? They aren't in bloom
at this time of year and I don't remember flying outside last night."
"I gave you a bath last night, Pretty, and the soap that I used had that
lovely scent in it. I hope you like it."
"Oh, YES! It makes me feel as if I'm about to be given away by my
parents at our joining ceremony so I may become your mate."
"Is it a special and lovely event for your kind, Pretty?"
"Oh yes, Master! It's one of the most heralded times in a young faerie's
life to be sealed with her mate under the light of the full moon. I've
seen so many sealings and have always wished I could be the faerie
covered in flowers like the ones I can smell on my body. It reminded me
of the last time I was dreaming of my own sealing ceremony and wishing
for my lover to be next to me and then join with me in front of all my
sisters, my mother, and my entire extended family."
The image of a faerie being deflowered by her new mate in front of her
entire family and extended clan filled me with such hunger that I wanted
the same sort of ceremony for us as well. But reality stole that vision
from me as I lightly caressed her left arm with my huge index finger.
After she shared her desire for a lovely wedding ritual, she looked up
into my eyes with what best could be described as timidity.
"Master?"
"Yes, Pretty?"
"May I go outside and capture some sun rays? I need to warm my body and
have my morning ray-bath before I'm able to begin my day."
"Sure, Pretty. Would you prefer to be alone when you do that, or "
She didn't even let me finish my statement.
"Oh, NO, Master! I'd much prefer for my Master to come with me. Would
you please?"
"Of course I would, my tiny lover."
"<Tee-hee!> You bring me such happiness, Master. I'm so pleased that I
finally found you."
"I'm glad I was here to catch you before you destroyed the only life I
could have ever loved, Pretty. I shudder to think what my life would
have been like if I hadn't met you."
The moment she extended her arms toward my face I knew what she wanted.
In a perfectly decent display of affection, I lifted her to my face with
my right hand and held her body to the side of my nose. But what
started as a normal and faultless display of morning affection quickly
turned into a sexual adventure, Shirestilla's naked hips rocking into my
cheek just hard enough for me to discern a growing need that I could
easily and completely fulfill and a distinct aroma of sexual hunger that
was like an open invitation to give her an hour or two of orgasms.
To make the deed seem less carnal and more typical of how we might share
our mornings from then on, I held her to my face and made my way outside
into the bright morning sunshine. All I had to do was lie back into a
comfortable chaise lounge and reposition her over my mouth so she could
get what she was wordlessly hinting at.
For the next hour she rocked her nude pussy into my mouth with her full
thighs splayed wide over my lips and I tenderly washed her vulva with my
tongue, her plump little ass softly caressed, and her whole body fondled
in the bright sunshine. There was nothing about my actions that had
anything to do with public respectability. All I was did was pleasure
my tiny guest and suck up every drop of her delicious emissions. The
plump softness of her nude vulva was all that I could have wanted in a
woman, even if that woman was no more than seven inches tall. I
secretly wished she could be more my size, though, and hungered to
couple with her just as she had dreamed of and hinted at.
My tummy rumbling reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast
so I slowed my attack on her tight slit and coaxed her off my mouth.
She was surprisingly accepting of the change in activities, her slight
frown indicative of an increased need for more sex, but her lack of
verbal complaints confirming that she knew who was in control, at least
for the moment.
Before I prepared my breakfast, now brunch, I decided to mix up a batch
of slightly diluted fruit juice for Shirestilla's use. All it took was
a small clean glass bottle filled with 90% clean water and 10% fruit
juice and the same washed eye dropper for her to test my efforts.
"Mmmmmmmmmm!!! That's NICE, Master! It still tastes much better than
the flower nectar I usually find, but I won't ask you to change it. May
I have some more, please?"
"You may have as much as you wish, my love. Just remember that I don't
want you to drink too much if you think it might hurt your body. I have
plans to keep you around for a very long time and need to take care of
you so you'll live for many many moons to come."
"Truly, Master? You really do wish for me to stay here with you?"
"Would you, Pretty? Would you really stay here with me if I asked?"
"Ohhhh, YES, Master! It would bring me great joy if you would allow me
to remain here with you. I've never been happier in my whole life and
I'm quite pleased that you will be able to provide for me so easily. I
was afraid that I wouldn't be able to eat properly because you don't
have many flowers around your protection place, but after you made this
wonderful food for me, I know I'll be very happy indeed!"
After I refilled the dropper and directed it toward her waiting hands I
decided to ask for more information. She certainly looked coherent
enough to answer anything I put to her, so our previously delayed chat
was going to be the next task to be completed.
"Tell me, Pretty, what do you normally eat?"
After a few long gulps she pulled her mouth away from the end of the
proffered glass tube and softly spoke.
"Mostly I eat flower pollen and any nectar I can find. It's quite
difficult if there are lots of bees and wasps, because they might injure
me with their poison if I'm not careful."
"What about fruit?"
"Fruit, Master? What's fruit?"
How the heck was I supposed to answer that question?
"Well . . . I guess the best way to answer that is to show you some
pictures. If I let the dropper go, would you be able to hold it?"
"I'll try, Master."
Between the two of us we were able to find a way to prop up the fairly
heavy glass device onto the top of the toothpick holder so all Pretty
had to do was lap at the opening of the dropper to get anything she
wanted to drink. While she was busily having her liquid repast, I
retrieved a metalized foil bag of fruit from the fridge and just hoped
it had an image of an apple, an orange, and a cherry. Since we were far
too high for bananas to grow it wouldn't be likely she'd ever seen
anything that bizarre. As soon as she saw the bag but specifically the
image of a large red apple, she let out a ear piercing squeal that
almost scared the crap out of me.
"Ooooooo!!! Red delights!"
Her version of a fruit name sounded reasonable.
I had to warn her that the contents wouldn't be nearly as soft or
potentially flavorful as the real thing, but still offered her a small
portion of a piece that I sampled from. She was literally like a kid in
a candy store for almost five minutes, wanting to try each new flavor
from the silver lined plastic and foil zippered bag. By the time she'd
sampled each of the fruits inside, apple, orange, cherry, banana,
pineapple, kiwi, and raisin, her tummy was bulging and she looked very
happy indeed. She actually waddled her way into my hand after she
finished the last small tidbit of slightly dried fruit, her gait more
than a little uncoordinated because of the welcome bounty.
Just like the other times I'd offered her some food, Shirestilla looked
as if she'd spent the better part of an afternoon at a bar being hit on
by dozens of horny guys just to get her clothes off. Since she was
perfectly naked anyway and nobody was around for miles, I knew she'd be
safe with me, even if I did fondle her pointy titties, caress her plump
bum, and give her soft pussy a few lewd strokes back and forth. As she
had done before, she didn't last more than a few minutes cuddled into my
grasp before she was sound asleep.
In spite of my frequent samples of her slick arousal and the many visits
along her tender body with my fingertips and tongue, I was beginning to
get a little frustrated and needed some sexual relief. My only solution
was to lay her down on the fleece blanket with her full thighs splayed
completely apart so I could ogle her tight pussy slit, undo my pants and
pull them down so I had enough room, and then masturbate while she slept
unaware of what I was up to.
It felt hideously crude to jackhammer my penis with my right hand with
her laying unconscious and close to my face, but my need had grown so
strong that I just couldn't put it off any longer. I required release
and the only way to get it with a petite seven inch tall naked mystical
little girl with a vagina that I couldn't get into was to take matters
into my own hand. No, I normally didn't touch or have a desire to rape
a woman when she was unable to resist, but my tiny lover had already
given herself to me and freely allowed me to touch and fondle her in any
manner I chose, whether she was awake or not.
I barely had enough time to reach for a few tissues before I sprayed my
ejaculate onto the floor, a sense of lewdness and impropriety so strong
throughout my body that I berated myself for what I'd done. Sure, I was
finally able to achieve a measure of relief, but at what cost? Could I
be just as crude and disgusting as lots of married guys I'd had drinks
with who often openly fantasized about another woman while their wives
were at home with their children? Could I actually 'use' Shirestilla
like some little tramp that meant nothing more to me than a sexual toy?
After I cleaned myself up and got dressed, I gingerly lifted my sleeping
visitor to my face, gently kissed her bare tummy, and then tenderly held
her up so I could place her in her makeshift bed for safety. Moments
after she was all the way inside and securely wrapped up in her covers,
I placed the running shoe she was in close to the back of the cushions
on the couch, buried my face in my hands, and softly cried to myself for
what I'd done. I'd become a monster, not just a pedophile.
In spite of my tremendous guilt and horribly repugnant behavior, I still
had the decency to watch over the tiny defenseless being as she slept.
My position nearly halfway across the couch was a kind of peculiar
punishment for myself, her proximity something that I wasn't going to
allow because of what I'd done while she was helpless to resist. No, I
didn't actually use her body for my direct genitive pleasure while I
flailed at my penis, but the idea that I'd stared at her vulva and even
shifted her full thighs open so I could ogle her nude vagina while
masturbating made me feel cheap and vile.
I must have sat there chastising myself for over two hours as the day
slowly wore on. Before I knew it, I was asleep in a slightly reclined
sitting position with Shirestilla close enough that I was able to cup my
right hand over part of the opening of her new resting place. She might
not have been aware of what I'd done, but I had a responsibility to
protect her since she was under my control.
When I awoke she was licking my right index finger and whimpering
pitifully, something about the surface of my digit and palm driving her
to repeatedly lave my skin with her tiny tongue. It felt so erotic for
her to steal whatever flavors or remnants of a past meal from my flesh,
her nearly wild lapping and mournful mewls taking on pathetic
dimensions.
"What's wrong, Pretty? Are you hungry again?"
"Nuh, nuh, nuh, NO, Master! I smelled something on your hand that I
could not resist and need to taste it until my urge has been satisfied."
"What is it, Pretty? Was it the fruit that you sampled earlier?"
"No, Master. I've never smelled or tasted anything like it before, but
I crave it more than anything else in my life. If I can determine what
it is, I'll beg to have more at any cost, regardless of what it takes
for me to get it."
"It must be very delicious, my love. What does it taste like?"
"You!"
"Pardon?"
"It's like the sensation I got when I tasted the water from your cry the
other day. I can't explain it clearly, Master, but the musky and manly
flavor of your body in this one area of your finger is so strong and
makes me feel so anxious that I want to do wicked things to my baby
place until my body is satisfied."
The awareness of where she was licking sent a burst of electricity
through my body and a combination of guilt and lust through my soul.
Could she still taste my semen, even after I had wiped myself fairly
clean with a tissue? I felt a mixture of emotions wash across me at the
thought that she craved my seed as much as I craved her plump pussy. It
was a strange relationship for me to consider and something that could
lead to a few very compromising 'positions' if my assumptions were on
the mark. There was only one way to be sure.
"Pretty?"
"Yes, Master?"
In spite of my having given her the liberty to call me 'Teddy', I still
craved the sensation I got when she called me 'Master'.
"I need for you to smell something for me and tell me what you think."
"Nuhhh! Please let me finish, Master, please?"
"You may like this smell, if my hypothesis is correct."
"Well . . . okay, Master. But may I lick your finger afterward?"
"Of course, my love, if that's what you want."
"Thank you, Master."
While she maintained her determined licking of my right index finger, I
reached with my left hand over the front edge of the couch where I'd
dropped the tissue, found where I'd let it fall, and then oriented it in
my hand so the majority of my mostly dried ejaculate was tucked safely
inside my grasp. All it took was a wave of my left hand over Pretty's
head for her to immediately stop what she was doing and look around to
determine where the new smell was coming from. The moment she thrust
her tiny button nose in the air she began to shift her head back and
forth to ascertain where the aroma was emanating from.
Like a tiny white bloodhound she zeroed in on my left hand even before
she climbed completely out of her bed. For the next few seconds I saw
her tremble as she climbed across the fleece blanket toward my left hand
as I lay it across my left thigh. The closer she got the slower her
movements and the more she shook. By the time she was close enough to
actually touch the bundled collection of semen-infused paper between my
fingers she was barely able to stand from the almost involuntary
seizures across her small body. When she spoke, it seemed to take all
her effort.
"Thuh . . . thuh . . . this is the . . . is the flavor that . . . that
I've been craving, Master. Please . . . I beg of you, my loving Lord
and Master . . . I'll do anything, anything at all just to have more of
this wonderful elixir."
All it took was my hand turning and my fingers uncoiling from around the
bundle of tissues and slightly dried cum for her to drop to her knees,
grab her pussy with both hands, curl up into a fetal position, and have
one sweet little orgasm without any outside influence at all. That's
all the proof I needed that she truly did crave my semen more than I
could have possibly imagined.
It was horribly cruel for me to bring the used tissues closer to her
face as she celebrated in her glorious sexual rapture, the intensity of
my hormonal aroma so strong she went into uncontrollable convulsions
that looked as if she was having a grand mal seizure. Her body looked
so pitiful that I couldn't torture her any longer, so I withdrew my hand
and let the tissue fall back to the floor where I'd retrieved it.
My poor little lover remained in her trembling balled up posture for
only another minute as the last of her orgasm slowly washed through her
tiny body and her wings hissed as they shuddered involuntarily. If she
reacted that strongly to a slightly dried sample of my ejaculate, how
might she respond to a body or mouthful of a fresh load?
She looked so weak from her orgasmic ordeal that I knew to restore her
energy with some food. She was carried to the kitchen, her foodstuffs
collected, my petite guest handed a small tidbit of dried apple, allowed
to drink her diluted fruit juice from the eyedropper until she was
quickly rejuvenated and her demeanor was that of a more coherent albeit
horny little faerie.
"Are you okay now, Pretty?"
"Oh, Master! Please tell me where that wonderful aroma came from!"
"I'm a little embarrassed to tell you, my love."
"Please don't be, Master. Tell me!"
"That was from me, Pretty. That was my baby seed."
She looked up into my eyes with an expression that could best be
described as disbelief and utter confusion. Her eyes went wide, her
mouth dropped open, her body trembled, and she slowly dropped to her
knees. When she clasped her hands together in front of her face in
supplication, I knew I was a goner. But her expression changed until
she looked hypnotized, her eyes glassy, and her demeanor mechanical.
"Oh, my loving Lord and Master, please grant me the privilege to be your
one and only slave so I may share in such a wondrous gift. I'll do
anything that you ask, My Lord, and promise to remain loyal for the rest
of my life so I may implore you to provide me with that astounding
bounty. That is the mysterious dream that I've always had and could
never understand and the journey that I have ached to endure without any
distance traveled. It is the reason for my being, Master, and I beg you
to provide me with just one full tummy of your remarkable donation so I
may fulfill my destiny."
When her monologue ended, she blinked feverishly, lowered her hands, and
then bowed her head in humility.
"Master?"
"Yes, Pretty?"
"I'm not worthy of all your gifts and such wonderful food. I feel so
undeserving of your love and protection and I wish there was a way I
could repay you for everything that you've done for me."
My having rescued her seemed like a queer twist of fate, her life
thought to be of no value because she was still an oversize but petite
virgin faerie and saved by a man who could have bought anything in the
world except a friend.
She thought she owed me her life after I prevented her from flying into
my fire, my natural reaction to swat a foolish bug away from the flames
as the fingers of intense heat licked toward the chimney. Were it not
for the size of her unusually overabundant wings and alabaster white
nubile body, I might have missed catching her in midair. It wasn't
surprising that I hadn't seen any other faeries that far from humanity
and was able to not only see but to capture that delicate prize in my
large hands.
Instead of pity, I felt unbound love for my tiny visitor and knew we
would share a strange kind of affection that could never be complete.
Still, I would sacrifice my financial life to live with my new partner
in total isolation and began to develop secret plans to remain in my
mountain retreat far from the meddlesome influence of my fellow man.
With the tenderness of a loving father and the lust of a horny lover, I
tucked the side of my finger right index finger under her chin and
gently tilted her head up so we could look into each others' eyes.
"You owe me nothing, Pretty . . . nothing at all. In fact, it is you
that I must thank and give praise to for rescuing me from a life of pain
and emptiness. Without even trying you've lifted my soul to the heights
of Heaven and restored my desire to live. You are now the reason for my
life to continue and I'll give you any and everything I can just so I
can be near you. You don't need to feel humbled in my presence, Pretty,
because it is me who is unworthy of your company and your love."
She let a quivering grin escape as she thrust her hands up toward my
face, a nice long hug offered a little being that I would spend the rest
of my life caring for and loving.
I don't remember lying down on the couch with Shirestilla in my cupped
right hand, her body still quivering from the lingering aroma of my
semen and her eyes staring intensely into mine as we faced each other.
"Tell me, my love . . . tell me everything about you."
"Yes, Master."
She caressed my cheek a couple of times and then resumed her interrupted
speech from quite a while before.
"Once I was an oversize freak to my own kind, none of the other faeries
would have anything to do with me, so I settled into a lonely life of
gathering my food and visiting with any of my family that would tolerate
my presence. It didn't take very long before most of my sisters and
even my mother hinted that I needed to leave our home and find my own
way, because none of the other girls in my family felt comfortable
bringing any of their younger or older lovers around with me there.
Even my mother's many young lovers would avoid her when I was there, the
area around my former home like an evil place the moment I returned from
finding food or wandering the forest. After a while, nobody wanted me
around so I left to find my own way."
I felt such intense pity for Shirestilla for having endured such harsh
treatment from her own sisters and mother. What I might not understand
at the time was the very different way of life that they considered
normal. It was going to be a shock to her when she found out what kind
of life I'd lived for so long.
"It took me three moons to wander through the forest before I came upon
a small clearing where I rested for a while. In my shame and disgrace I
tried to consider what I might do with myself and how I could serve the
Great One in some unknown task, but I was unable to learn anything from
all my prayers. When I smelled the burning wood from your night sun, I
decided to bring an end to my life since I was unable to serve the
purpose for which I had been created."
"And what was that purpose, Pretty?"
"To love another being with all my heart and couple with them until I
brought my lover our first of many hundreds of offspring."
"Many hundreds???"
"Well . . . of course, Master! Is that not enough?"
"I'm sure for a faerie, hundreds of offspring . . . babies are quite
normal. My kind usually has only one or two, and maybe as many as four
babies during our lives together."
"Only four??? Don't you love to couple and make more, Master?"
"Sure! But we couple just for the pleasure and have children to replace
us before we grow old and die."
"You scared me, Master. I was afraid you didn't like to couple."
"No, Pretty. I like to couple a lot. I just haven't shared my body
with many women because of the complications of my life."
"I don't understand, Master."
"That's okay, Pretty. You don't need to understand my old life. It
isn't important anymore."
"Master?"
"Yes?"
"I need to tell you something."
"Okay, Pretty. You can tell me anything you want to and I'll listen."
"There are tales of some distant faeries leaving their homes and
coupling with great beings like you, Master, and it changed their lives
so much they were never the same or ever returned to the forest. I'm
frightened that may happen to me and you may become displeased with me
and tell me to leave like my family did."
"How did they change, Pretty?"
"I don't know, Master. But the tales tell of a great change in their
appearance until they no longer looked like faeries at all. There is
even a fable about them losing their wings and growing very old and
dying like your kind does, Master. I'm afraid."
"Please don't be, Pretty. Growing old is a part of living."
"But, what about me losing my wings and changing until I no longer look
like a faerie? Won't you become displeased if my shape or appearance is
altered so much that I don't appear to you as I do today?"
"I tell you what, Pretty. I know this may not sound as if it makes
sense, but I'll love you no matter HOW you look, or even if you lose
your pretty wings. It isn't what you look like that makes me love you,
Pretty, but what you have inside your heart that fills me with joy."
"Truly, Master? You could love me . . . even if I changed and grew old
like your kind does?"
"Yes I would, my love. I will always love you, no matter how you look
or how old you get. That's part of love, even though I've never shared
in it until this moment. I remember my parents still being in love
until they grew very old and then died. I always wanted to love someone
like that and never thought I would. But ever since I found you I no
longer believe that, and will love you tomorrow and the next day even
more than I do right now."
"Oh, Master!"
In spite of the difference in our sizes and the fact that we'd never be
able to make love, I still truly believed I could share the remainder of
my life with my tender visitor. It made for a very peculiar beginning.
She cuddled against my neck for a long time that afternoon, nothing more
important for either of us than to gently touch each other and share in
a joining that had nothing to do with coital pleasure. Mind you we both
secretly wished we could fuck like bunnies, but with our tremendous size
difference that wouldn't be possible.
We ate dinner together almost silently, a small collection of sweet
morsels and a tiny souvenir mug with my name on it filled with diluted
fruit juice for her, and a medium plate of typical human food for me.
It was after everything was cleaned and put away that Shirestilla tugged
on my left hand and looked up at me with an expression that said it all.
A few moments later I was laying on my back, she was sitting over my
mouth, and I was lapping at her plump pussy as she whimpered and moaned
like a very attentive whore. The major difference was my tiny little
whore wasn't acting and gave me cum after cum and all the sweet pussy
juice she could produce.
Sometime after the first hour with my left hand gently fondling her
naked ass and tickling her from behind as I repeatedly licked her pussy
from underneath, my right hand worked my pants open and pushed my
underwear far enough down my thighs so I could masturbate as I diddled
her plump cunny. The more frequently she convulsed into my mouth and
offered me her copious emissions the closer I approached to my own
orgasm. All it took was the image of a seven inch tall nude faerie over
my face for me to smile and wiggle the tip of my tongue against the
tight slit that kept her clitoris hidden.
But instead of stirring her into an even higher level of genitive
pleasure, Shirestilla became aware of the aroma that she'd craved for so
many days of her life. She kept gyrating and convulsing but lifted her
head high into the air and turned back and forth until she finally saw
what had been the source of her fascination. With a disgusting groan
she twisted around and disconnected from my mouth.
"Nuuuhhhhh!!! I must have it!"
After some uncoordinated movements she stumbled her way down my chest
until she dropped to her knees inches from the end of my precum dripping
penis and my right hand.
"Oh, My Master . . . My Lord . . . My Greatest Desire! This is what I
have been searching all my life for!"
Moments later she inched her way on her hands and knees closer to my
cock head and when she was close enough reached out with her right hand
and barely grazed the shiny slick surface of my glans. Shaking with
tremendous fear and excitement she withdrew her small hand and created a
strand of clear ooze, that single thread slowly drooping as she stopped
to take notice of her creation. But the aroma was too strong for her to
just watch the curious phenomenon and she lifted her small trembling
hand to her mouth and extended her tongue to sample from it.
Fractions of a second after she stole a long single lick and withdrew
her tongue back into her mouth, her whole body convulsed and she let out
a guttural moan that sounded very unlike the tiny creature that I'd
rescued from the fire.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! Mmmuuuuhhhhh . . . my GLORY!"
She immediately threw herself forward, clumsily forced my right hand
away, wrapped her small arms and full legs completely around my penis,
and then planted her mouth over the end of my cock. Moments after she
had a tight grip of my small vertical orifice she began to writhe around
on my cock as if she was fucking me, her small body undulating very
lewdly and intentionally drawing me closer toward my own release. In
spite of her diminutive size and the skin-tight grasp of my cock, she
drove me toward an orgasm that was sure to drown her if she kept her
mouth tightly closed around my cock end
The sensation of her small body jacking me was more than I could have
dreamed possible, the feeling of another living thing after the same
thing that I craved lowering my resistance to what she was doing until I
felt that electric buzzing in my balls that signaled my doom.
I don't remember much for the next half minute, except for an unreal
sense of pleasure as Shirestilla kept wordlessly asking me for every
measure of my sexual love. I gave it to her, and more!
By the time the last of my ejaculate had been sprayed from the end of my
penis I was exhausted and Shirestilla was covered from her face to her
tummy, literally dripping with my semen. What I wasn't aware of until
she let go and fell backward onto my slightly furry lower belly was a
very plump bulge in her tummy that signaled a fair portion of my first
blast ending up inside her stomach.
I was too tired to do anything more than lift her cum-dripping body from
my quivering belly and wipe the excess from her face, her chest, her
titties, her arms, her distended belly, and finally from her stuttering
legs with one corner of the fleece blanket. Once I'd removed most of
her sticky and very alive accessories from her body, I brought her to my
face and lay her back down over my mouth so I could finish what I'd
started. Her nude pussy was quivering and undulating into my mouth
seconds after she felt my tongue lap at her plump vulva and she stayed
that way for the next hour, surrendering to an array of orgasms that
cemented our emotional bond almost as tightly as her sticky belly to my
hungry upper lip. We both fell asleep in that position, her hips pushed
down into my mouth, my tongue gently lapping at her plump vulva, and our
mutual pleasure joining us in a way that we were unaware of at the time.
Shirestilla was very grumpy the next morning, choosing to go sun herself
alone in private and away from my view at the far end of my huge patio.
I attributed her mood to how thoroughly I'd tongued her and must have
overstayed my welcome to her very inviting cunny. It took more than a
little influence to get her to come in just before noon, my normally
demure and submissive guest very reluctant to do anything around me for
some reason. I had to bring a small collection of fruit tidbits and her
diluted fruit juice to the patio because she didn't want to be anywhere
but outside in the sun.
She ate almost ravenously and any evidence of her bulging tummy from the
night before was long gone. The only thing that seemed normal was a
brief smile from her lovely face when she fell to her knees and bowed
her face in my direction for no more than a few seconds. Moments later
she was just as grumpy as a woman during her monthly cycle.
It was difficult for me to give her all the room she needed, but I did
just that and allowed her to determine when we were supposed to share
any private or even public time together. That didn't happen until well
after the sun went down and she seemed strangely cold, her trip inside
my house made by foot rather that in flight. The moment I saw her
stumble toward me with a frightened expression on her face and her small
arms extended toward me, I dove toward her and gently held her in both
hands as if she was about to drown.
The fireplace had been stoked to its fully glory only an hour before, my
place on the couch modified to huddle with my shaking visitor under my
chin. She was actually shaking from an unusual kind of chill that she'd
never known before and one that seemed dangerous to me. Feeding her
seemed the smart thing to do, so I rose with her held close to my body
and retrieved the same bounty of sweet food that she'd eagerly consumed
a few times before. What I'd offered was greedily eaten and a second
helping proffered because of her unusual demeanor, an extra helping of
slightly enhanced fruit juice so she'd regain her strength as quickly as
possible. Whatever was troubling her physically seemed a mystery to her
and I was horrified that I'd somehow poisoned her with my semen.
The next two days and nights were very long and kept me literally at the
edge of my seat at the couch, her every physical requirement tended to
as if I was her personal nurse or slave. She'd frequently get really
grumpy and lash out at me as if I'd caused her tremendous harm, which
made me feel horrible and even more guilty than before. When she yelled
and screamed at me in her baby-pitch voice and berated me for making her
feel bad, I wanted to crawl away and die, but her safety and health was
far more important than my emotional stability so I sucked up my
strength and kept my place.
By the end of the second night she was sleeping quite soundly and looked
far more at ease than she had been in a while. I felt relieved, but I
was also troubled because she was so still. In order to keep her safe
and well fed I repeatedly held the open end of the eye dropper filled
with a slightly stronger mixture of fruit juice to her lips, a natural
suckling movement and the crimson liquid disappearing from inside the
clear glass tube telling me that she was eagerly consuming what I had
offered. I fed her every four hours by the clock, a strong desire in me
to restore her strength as quickly as possible so she'd return to me
just as eager and happy as before.
But that didn't happen for the next four days, her lack of movement so
scary I'd frequently move her around and check for her breathing and
heartbeat to be sure she was still alive. Her bare chest would fill
with air and her sternum would pulse rhythmically with each beat of her
small heart, so she was alive, but very unresponsive. There were even
three of four days after that where I'd completely ignore my own needs
just so I could be with her, my food stores getting low and the normally
tall stack of wood on the patio getting dangerously low.
I didn't want to, but after a long mental battle I decided to feed her a
nice large liquid meal, tuck her into the fleece blanket rather than her
makeshift bed inside my unused running shoe, and then split some wood
for the fireplace. I looked like a madman trying to wield an ax with a
pair of boxing gloves on, each of my repeated attempts to cleave a large
stump into a few manageable shards that would easily fit into the broad
opening of the fireplace. After many poor tries I was eventually able
to find my rhythm and focused my mind on the task at hand.
Rather than think solely about splitting wood, I found myself frequently
distracted by the small life that was lying unconscious on my couch.
When I realized that I'd run out of room to cut any more wood, the area
around my feet was surrounded with a circular pile of nicely split logs
that made my last cord of firewood look pitiful. It didn't take long
after that before the entire load was neatly stacked along the wall
where the last half stack lay.
With that task completed, I returned to my lover's sleeping side and
checked on her breathing and heartbeat, and then fed her once again.
Each time I placed the end of the dropper to her lips, she'd eagerly
suckle and drain the supply of crimson liquid until the tube was empty
and I could tell she wanted more. With each feeding I noticed a trend
that seemed both reassuring and troubling at the same time, a greater
portion of food going in but nothing coming out at the other end. Her
body heat had completely returned and more, an almost steaming radiance
to her body as each hour passed.
There was little I could do for Shirestilla, so I decided to get myself
cleaned up so I could drive to the nearest large town and stock up on my
own supplies. Just before I walked toward the front door on my way
toward civilization I fed her once again until she seemed sated. I then
sat next to my silent lover and gently caressed her arms, her back, her
sexy little plump bum, her full legs, and even her tiny naked feet.
With a loving kiss applied to her cheek, then to her small breasts, her
tummy, her thighs, and then between her thighs, I tucked her under the
protection of the fleece blanket and walked toward the world of human
beings with tear filled eyes.
The entire time I was driving toward town I couldn't help but wonder
what I'd find when I returned, one of the windows to the living room
left wide open just in case she had an unspoken need to take wing and
leave me forever. My shopping routine was little more than a mindless
struggle to fill an oversize flat wheeled pallet with a mountain of
boxed, canned, and bottled foodstuffs. My collection of groceries
looked no different than many of the other shoppers', so what might be
considered hoarding by some seemed normal to everyone else around me.
My vehicle fuel tank was filled to capacity and with a fast food dinner
in my hands to appease the rumbling in my tummy I began the three hour
long drive back home. I couldn't stop thinking about my precious little
faerie and how she might be doing all alone in my house, her life so
strongly affected by my sexual perversions that I felt horrible pangs of
guilt. I made my way to a darkened drive through the gate of my private
property and the last thirty minutes slowly passed toward my log cabin.
The only things I brought inside after I shut the vehicle off were the
cold and frozen items, the deep freezer stuffed full once more and the
fridge refilled until it looked as if someone actually lived in my home.
The fire had gone down quite a bit but was still alive as I entered the
room and approached the couch from the backside, the warmth of the room
evidence that my tiny visitor was never in any danger of being cold.
The first thing I did was close the open window and then turned toward
the couch to go visit with what I hoped would be my slumbering guest.
Instead of seeing her bundled up with only her face showing, all I saw
was the fleece blanket mounded up as if a small bear cub had come in
through the window and claimed my couch as its new sleeping location.
A wave of fear washed through me at the thought of something wild eating
my tiny guest while she was unable to protect herself and then leaving a
mass of blood and bones in the heap of fabric for me to find. With
trembling fingers and a strong need to yell as loud as I could to
protect myself if something other than my original visitor burst forth,
I teased at the edge of the coverlet and tried to spy what had taken
refuge underneath.
I was only able to tease a corner of the blanket up before I felt a
strong resistance to any further movement. With careful but confident
movements I tried to claim a stronger hold of a greater portion but was
rebuffed by what appeared to be my blanket stitched together into a
large tight mass, akin to a ball or . . .
Dear God! That's when it hit me. A nest! Something had climbed in
through the open window, had eaten my lovely Shirestilla as a quick
snack, and then had the unmitigated gall to bundle up with my blanket
and somehow stitched it together with them inside. In desperation I
tried to tease a bit more forcefully at a few edges but was only able to
see a tight mass of bright white fibers holding the center of the fabric
together until the material looked like an oversize cocoon.
The reality of what had happened finally burst forth like a ton of
bricks from fifty feet. Shirestilla wasn't eaten or flew away to regain
her freedom; she'd been preparing for a metamorphosis of some kind, my
hormones apparently a kind of stimulus to force a change like none
other. But how could that be? Only insects and a few other creatures
made cocoons and re-emerged as a new life form after a period of
dormancy and physical restructuring.
The best thing for me to do was to stoke the fire, change into my comfy
clothes, unload my vehicle, and leave whatever was on my couch alone.
If it was my tiny faerie lover, she'd need to have my protection because
there was nothing else I could do other than keep her warm and free of
harm. The groceries were unloaded, the pantry restocked, the various
domestic supplies taken to the various rooms of the house where they
belonged, and my routine far less hurried once I knew, or at least
suspected, what had become of Shirestilla.
For the next three weeks I kept vigil next to that queer bundle of cloth
stitched tightly together with some sort of natural thread. I 'd check
it to see if I could discern any movement or noise, but each time I'd
approach a hissing sound from within would force me to leave it alone.
It must have been a self defense mechanism to discourage potentially
dangerous carnivores from disturbing whatever was going on inside, and I
knew to let it remain unmolested on its new resting place on my couch.
I'd grown so concerned about what was going on with every aspect of that
bundle of cloth and natural stitching that I brought a futon into the
living room and stationed myself alongside the couch approximately the
same distance from the fireplace as it was. I even went as far as to
create a miniature refuge in the living room with my food, clothes,
cleaning supplies, and anything else that seemed to be necessary for me
to wait long enough to see what might emerge, if anything. For all I
knew I was babysitting a sack full of dead bones and a rotting corpse.
A few weeks later I was relieved to see little shudders of movement from
within the cocoon, nothing dramatic or spectacular, but enough that I
was sure it wasn't just a collection of putrid flesh or an empty husk.
I actually did a little silent dance around the couch after I became
aware of life within the previously motionless heap of fabric. It might
have been silly of me to do that, because I knew nothing of the new life
within, or if it had any resemblance to my precious love, Shirestilla.
Two more nervous weeks went by, as many trips to refill my food stores
taken since I'd made my last trip away from home. Because the late fall
chill signaled my need to prepare for a long stay alone in my mountain
hideout, I decided to make it official and close out my business affairs
and prepare for a very different kind of life away from my fellow man.
I didn't get very many pleas for me to change my mind, which confirmed
that my presence wasn't going to be missed, so I consolidated my rather
abundant finances, created a fairly impressive array of protected
accounts that would slowly build in size in spite of my lack of active
attendance, and readied myself for a long winter alone in my comfy cabin
with what could turn out to be an alien creature that would slowly eat
me alive. I really didn't know and only assumed my lovely Shirestilla
would magically pop out of her cocoon in the nude and smile at me like a
dumb blond coming out of a huge Moose Lodge party cake.
Rather than take the chance that I'd have to be eating twigs and rocks
by the time the snow melted next spring, I rented a fairly large box
truck and drove away from the warehouse grocery store with more food
than I could have eaten in six months. I also prepared myself for any
eventuality by purchasing a lot of domestic supplies for myself and for
the impending arrival of what I envisioned to be an infant creature of
some kind. Hauling away half a dozen huge boxes of baby diapers might
have looked peculiar, except for the older folks that were buying the
adult versions for themselves in the next lane over. By the time I got
everything in my house moved in and settled, it looked as if I was
prepared for the end of the world.
The first snowfall made the whole area around my house seem brand new
with a blinding morning sunrise pouring into my house through the east
facing windows. I had to actually squint from the intense glare until
the sun rose high enough to prevent the inside of my house from being
awash with a tremendous white and gold brilliance. The scenery outside
made the warmth of the recently stoked fire seem much more inviting, the
frequent snaps, pops, and hisses of the most recent addition adding a
mystical comfort to the intense waves of heat.
I'd taken every precaution prior to the first layer of bright white, my
emergency liquid fuel stores safely tucked away in the small separate
building within walking distance and a carefully strung polyester
guide-rope between my back door and that out-building in the event I
wasn't able to see my footing during some as yet unseen blizzard. My
huge basement, rather than an oversize party room was essentially my
food and supply warehouse, row after row of neatly stacked cases easily
identified by the black print along each face so I knew where everything
was. Water was also judiciously stored in a series of bluish-clear
polycarbonate five gallon jugs, enough highly refined liquid refreshment
available for four people if the need arose. The supplies I'd planned
for what I hoped would be my 'butterfly' version of Shirestilla were
just as meticulously positioned so I could get to them first, in the
event her needs were deemed more crucial than mine.
As each day passed and the movements within the fleece-confined bundle
slowly increased, I grew fearful and terribly anxious to see her smiling
face once more. Her food and equipment was ready, but was I?
It was during a howling snowstorm and after I'd finished a very pleasing
meal that I decided to sit close to a slightly bulging cocoon on the
couch, my curiosity growing so much that I couldn't resist a repeated
attempt at another careful examination. With the nervousness of a first
time father, I tugged at the same flap of material that I'd originally
attempted to see beyond, but instead of a warning hiss from within, I
heard a subdued whimper. Could it be time? Was my precious visitor
ready to emerge from hiding and thrust her arms around me in loving
appreciation, or might a claw extend from one torn corner and rip at my
throat and drag me inside? My imagination was running wild with all
sorts of fanciful images and ideas, the weather outside preventing me
from seeking refuge in the the forest if something horrible emerged.
Rather than take the chance that I might injure whatever was inside by
admitting light and heat too soon, I refrained from acting on my need to
know what was within and just placed my hand across the top of the round
bundle. In an act of affection rather than curiosity I allowed my palm
to remain in place for the next hour without moving, the bond that I'd
created with Shirestilla somehow encouraging me to just stay still and
wait a little longer for something to happen. I fell asleep in that
position and tried to remember what it felt like for her to sit on my
mouth and encourage me to lick her vulva repeatedly until she had an
untold number of wonderful orgasms.
It was a tickle along the inside of my palm that forced me to withdraw
my hand in surprise while I was sleeping, my ability to discern what was
going on highly lacking in my drowsy haze. After a few feverish blinks
and my hands wiping away a few moments of confusion, I saw the tips of
two small fingers poking through a small opening between a fold of
material in the blanket.
At first I wasn't sure what to do and just remained fixed to the cushion
of the couch and stared. When I saw those tiny digits wiggle around
weakly I knew it was time, but should I help tear the cocoon open or let
whatever was inside to emerge under 'her' own power. A pitiful whimper
from within answered my dilemma and I repositioned myself so it was
directly over the top of the bundle and looking intently at what was
going on. Whatever was inside must have felt intimidated by my presence
and the fingers were immediately withdrawn. I didn't take it personally
but was aware that my proximity might negatively affect the outcome if I
was too close.
The fire was down a little bit, so rather than just sit there and wait
for two small digits to re-emerge, I stoked the fire and added a few
more logs just in case Shirestilla's rebirth was going to take more than
a few hours. It seemed the right thing to do for many reasons, because
as soon as I returned to the couch, those same two small digits were
trying more earnestly to create a larger opening and were followed by
what appeared to be a little girl's hand.
I sat spellbound at the much larger size of the small appendage, more
like a six or seven year olds hand than one from a seven inch tall doll.
In an act of sheer desperation and intense curiosity I placed my hand
close to the slowly widening opening and waited for what I was sure
would be our first touch. When her quivering fingertips finally found
my hand, rather than jerk backward in fear, the small digits stopped for
a moment, and then carefully examined the outside of my appendage very
slowly as if to confirm who was with her.
My heart was hammering in my chest in anticipation and I could feel my
throat tightening in fear at what I would find once that small hand was
followed by an arm and the rest of a small body. Again I tried to hold
back my excitement at seeing Shirestilla once more, fully aware that a
new life emerging from within the protection of the cocoon would most
likely have no knowledge or memory of me and how much I loved my faerie
visitor. There was still that naive desire for her to open her eyes and
see me for the first time with all her faculties intact and memories
complete, but that only happened in Hollywood movies, not in real life.
Her touch continued for about fifteen seconds and the small appendage
abruptly disappeared back inside. Apparently my presence wasn't nearly
the impetus I had hoped she'd need to come bursting out in excited joy.
What did happen was far more shocking and a lot more desirable
"Mmmmmm . . . nnuuuuuhhhhh . . . tuhhh . . . tuhh . . . tehhhh . . . "
There was a definite intelligence to whatever was inside, the small
voice that of a little girl and not a baby.
"Tehhhh . . . Tedduhhh . . . Teddy?"
I stopped breathing.
My throat tightened and my eyes were awash with huge tears preventing me
from seeing any details of the immediate area for almost half a minute.
She'd actually called me by name. How was that possible?
"Tehh-Deee? . . . Huhh . . . help . . . help me . . . "
That's all the notice or invitation I needed to return to my previous
location on the couch over the fabric bundle and begin to enlarge the
small opening her fingers had created. The fibers holding the edges of
the fleece blanket together were a lot more pliable and tore more easily
than they originally had, enough time for her to develop for her fabric
prison to slowly break down so she could emerge.
What had been impossible without a sharp knife before was much easier,
firm upward pressure all that was required for the seams of her cocoon
to slowly come apart. The first thing I saw was a fairly disquieting
mass of blood vessels and connective tissue, and I was afraid I had
encouraged the life inside to emerge too soon. I was almost ready to
draw the edges of the cocoon closed when I saw the shape inside shift
and twist slightly and a bright pink area of smooth skin come into view.
By the way the body was positioned it looked as if I was staring at her
right hip, the tight fold of her thigh tightly against her upper torso.
Again I saw a small set of fingers snake out toward me, this time with a
little more coordination, but just as weak as before. I couldn't help
myself and gently accepted the outstretched appendage and tenderly held
it until I felt her try to grip my fingers. Her grasp of my digits was
very unsteady, but I could tell there was more than instinctive muscular
function conducting that touch.
The next movements I made were to tear a little more of the fabric free
closer toward her head and opposite from her right hip. From the tight
and limited confines of her cocoon, I knew her head had to be bent over
in a very difficult angle, so I intentionally worked on that portion of
the fabric rather than near her midsection. As a large section of
fabric easily came away from the larger portion I was finally able to
see a wet and sticky mat of blond hair covering a fairly normal sized
head. I was especially anxious to see what she looked like but knew to
go slowly so I didn't startle or hurt my young prize.
It took only a few more minutes for me to work enough of that formerly
clean fleece blanket open before the small body inside literally poured
out onto my lap, along with a rather viscous mass of something akin to
egg whites and what looked like a huge placental mass of blood vessels.
The moment her body was free of its small enclosure her head fell back
against the partially covered cushion and she took in a huge breath. I
knew 'it' was a 'she' because as soon as her body was turned toward the
ceiling and subsequently toward my eyes, I saw two lovely little breasts
and two bright pink nipples. But her face was still covered with her
wet and gummy hair, so I gently tucked my fingers under the greatest
portion and slowly shifted it away from her face.
That's when I fell in love all over again.
It was Shirestilla . . . the same almond eyes, button nose, bee-stung
and full pouty lips, all much more appropriately dimensioned to look
like a young girl rather than a seven inch tall doll.
I couldn't help myself and actually started to cry, huge tears pouring
down my face at the sight of such a beautiful little girl. In my
wildest dreams I couldn't have imagined her coming back to me in such a
perfect little body, although I hadn't seen all of her quite yet. That
was resolved when she began to push against the inside of her cocoon in
an attempt to free her legs, my help making her difficult task less so.
After a few minutes of careful movements, my tiny lover was allowed to
completely stretch out on the couch with her former prison worked into
its original shape, minus a few corners and folds. Using any portion
that wasn't already wet, I wiped her face first, then her body, and
finally her lovely full legs. In the process of shifting her around on
the couch and drying her off a little, I couldn't help but ogle her nude
cunny, a fat full pussy that looked far more inviting than any I'd ever
dreamed or fantasized about. But sex wasn't the appropriate topic at
the moment, so I refocused my attention to her needs and dashed off to
the bathroom for a huge bucket of soapy wipes and two large towels.
Her eyes were the first to be carefully cleaned, and fractions of a
second after I'd finished wiping her lashes free of anything that wasn't
a permanent part of skin her eyes opened and she blinked a number of
times as if she wasn't able to clearly see. There was a large glob of
whitish fluid at the inside corners of her eyes so I used another clean
wipe to dab everything away, her vision improving slightly because I
could see her look more intently toward my face.
"Shirestilla? Are you okay, Pretty?"
Nothing. All she did was look at me in a blank stare, as if the words
meant nothing to her. I was really concerned but didn't allow my fears
to distract me from tending to my slightly dirty and still wet visitor,
my movements meant to provide for her health and cleanliness.
It took me about fifteen minutes to get a majority of her body fairly
clean, and once she was dry enough to move comfortably without her body
slipping from of my grasp, I tucked my hands under her and gently pulled
her tight to my chest. She had no true awareness of anything around her
and seemed to be nothing more than a mindless new life, a baby in every
sense of the word except for how she came to me.
Climbing into the master bathtub fully clothed might have seemed strange
to anyone else, but Shirestilla just looked around for a minute until I
lay her down into the highly polished fiberglass basin. I had no real
desire to bathe her with my clothes on, so I released her and was about
to climb out when I felt her small left hand clutch my right arm with a
lot more strength than I suspected she might have.
"I'm not going to leave you, Pretty. All I'm gonna do is get out so I
can start your bath and get you all clean in some nice hot water."
"Nnnnnnnn . . . nnuuuuuhhh . . . nooo, tuhhh . . . "
The message was clear enough for me, so I leaned forward and placed a
soft kiss directly on her small and very sexy lips. She seemed to
understand the emotional message I was trying to communicate and let a
little smile escape, her eyes squinting a little bit confirming that
there really was a measure of life and intelligence within that lovely
normal sized head.
"Okay, Pretty. I won't leave you alone. It might be difficult and may
seem rather crude to undress right in front of you like this, but I'm
not about to make you feel the least bit anxious about anything now that
you're back with me."
My demeanor surprised even me, a much more calm temperament coming from
someone that had never been responsible for another life before in my
life. How could I act so serenely when I was in the presence of a life
that wasn't more than an hour or two old, and that new life was a
miracle beyond any explanation?
It took me no more than a minute to strip down to nothing and then
prepare our surroundings for a comfortable half hour or so of warm wet
laving. It seemed truly wicked for me to start the water right next to
a nude little elementary school girl, my naked visitor completely and
utterly unconcerned with my being just as bare as she was. Her actions
were little more than poor attempts to gain control of her own muscles,
her hands slowly shifted around our surroundings until I felt a small
hand gently caress my face. When I turned and smiled at her, I got a
little smile as my reward, and she got a little kiss as hers.
In order for her bath to be conducted in as gentle and tender a manner
possible, rather than begin to wash her with a bar of soap and a wash
cloth, I opted for a tub full of bubble bath, a small natural sponge, a
plastic tube of body wash, and another one of ladies' shampoo. The last
time I'd bathed Shirestilla was many weeks before, when she was nothing
more than a tired and drunken little living doll seven inches tall. She
was no longer a tiny mythical alabaster life that had graced me with a
queer presence that I'd never be able to explain, but a lovely pink
little girl that was perfect in every dimension.
She watched everything that I did after the tub was filled far enough
for us to be half immersed in bubbles. Rather than fear anything that I
did to her, Shirestilla seemed to have far more confidence than any baby
I could imagine. That was evident when I slowly lay her back until most
of her dirty blond hair was underwater. Holding her over my lap, I ran
the fingers of my right hand through her surprisingly long locks as I
held the back of head up out of the water with my left.
After her hair was thoroughly wet and a lot more of her placental fluids
had been washed away, I pulled her into an upright position and drew her
body into mine, her small breasts gently distorted by my slightly hairy
chest. The strange tickle seemed to stir a little smile, a subdued
titter stifled without any real awareness. Once she was pulled firmly
into me and her arms were draped around my body, I recovered the bottle
of ladies' shampoo and created a thick mass of floral scented foam that
literally melted her into me. With the tenderness of a lover, the calm
demeanor of a father, and the attention of a professional masseur, I
gave her a long slow scalp massage while washing her hair that was one
of the most erotic non-sexual experiences I'd ever offered a woman.
Her hair was rid completely clean of soap and any remaining evidence of
her metamorphosis under the flexible hose wand, some rinse applied, and
then my task of washing her face and body the next course of action.
But Shirestilla didn't like the idea of releasing me, so I remembered
something that my mother would do to me when I didn't want to let her go
after she read me the last few pages of a favorite book when it was time
for me to go to sleep. Wiggling a few digits under her arms didn't do
anything for a few seconds, but once her body realized she was being
tickled, I heard a very sexy titter and felt her clamp her arms tight to
her body in an act of self protection.
My tickles continued just long enough for her to provide some genuine
giggles, after which I tilted her face up and gave her a very soft and
slow kiss. Her lips didn't respond at all, nothing of our contact
stirring her into any sort of movement. I didn't let it affect me
because I knew that she was still devoid of most of her faculties.
She'd come around soon enough and when she did, she'd be kissing me.
With a natural sponge slightly full of body wash, I started at her
forehead and gently washed everything above the water line, including
her sexy little boobies. I spent far more time just caressing her small
breasts and tweaking her erect nipples than I should have, because she
was just so perfect I couldn't help but sample her softness. Righting
her into a sitting position on the integrated seat along one wall of the
tub/shower combination made it a little difficult for me to wash her bum
correctly, so I did my best until I was able to get her back in the tub
in a doggy style position. I shouldn't have, because for the next few
minutes I tenderly explored her smooth full bubble butt, her tight ass,
and even her plump bald pussy from behind. She was completely unaware
of anything I was doing and in spite of my ability to 'have' her any way
I wanted, I resisted the temptation and kept my actions mostly oriented
toward cleaning her body. Once she was thoroughly washed from head to
sexy naked toes, I gave myself a quick once over and then pulled my
young lover into a hug and set the water heater to a nice setting.
For the next hour I held her tight to the left side of my body and
gently caressed the outside of her back and left arm, her head tilted
back a few times and her eyes looking deeply into mine as if she was
ready to say something. I waited anxiously for anything intelligent to
spring forth, but nothing found its way from her still undeveloped brain
to her lips. A strong rush of hot water along my left thigh informed me
that I'd completely forgotten about anything within her bladder and
bowels, so I turned the pump and heater off and let the water completely
drain from the tub as I carefully righted her. Using the same rinse
wand I used for her hair, I washed us down one last time and then shut
the water off. Her body was sending signals that I wasn't smart enough
to read but I was bright enough to get her onto the commode just in time
for her to empty a rather noxious portion of what I'd previously offered
before she hid herself in a fleece cocoon. The commode was flushed, her
bum dabbed clean, and then washed with a baby wipe. Just splitting her
cheeks and tickling her bright pink pursed rosebud was enough of a
temptation for me to take a short detour with a wandering digit, but
again I resisted until she told me that she knew I was trying to
pleasure her or myself.
Completely dry and with her hair brushed with a brand new set of ladies'
hair appliances, I wrapped her in a bright white cotton terrycloth robe
and then got myself dressed in a clean set of clothes. Her clothes
would be little more than a few stretch tops and leggings until winter
passed and spring warmed the area around us enough for us to go
shopping, but until then she'd either be naked or warmly dressed in
thick and stretchy clothes.
The next most important task was to carry my nubile guest to the kitchen
so I could feed her, the same staple of sweet fruits and fruit juice
amended with apple sauce and a whole selection of puréed baby foods to
get my 'newborn' ready for more traditional foods. In order to make my
task my less frightening for Shirestilla, I had everything ready on the
counter, except for my guest -- she'd be sitting on my lap. As soon as
I teased her tongue with a eyedropper full of undiluted fruit juice, she
perked up and seemed far more alive than ever before. Gently wiggling
the rubber nipple of a baby bottle between her lips and tilting it up
seemed a bizarre thing to do for a little girl that looked old enough to
tie her own shoes and break an older man's heart, but she took to it
just like a real infant and leaned her head into my chest as soon as she
closed her eyes. Shirestilla was more like an infant than I could have
imagined, and a large diaper fitted under her bum might not be a bad
idea while we slept in my bed the first few times.
By the time her bottle was finished, I gave her a few samples of apple
sauce, carrots, puréed corn, and even a little taste of baby peas. She
ate everything without a single incident and never once spit out any of
the proffered food. After her meal was complete I wiped her face and
couldn't resist the incredibly sexy pout that was a permanent feature of
her lovely face. With the tenderness of a mature teacher I pressed my
lips to hers and very softly munched on her lips. Before I knew what
had happened, she was kissing me back and even licked the front of my
teeth with her deft little tongue. The expression on her face belied
her neonate innocence and I could tell a greater portion of her genetic
memory might be peeking through, everything in her past hopefully still
a strong part of her as yet protected recollections.
The couch was tended to, the fleece blanket carefully set out unfolded
into the unheated garage until I could wash it clean, the couch washed
free of any evidence of her birth, and then my sleepy visitor carried to
the master bathroom for one last trip to the potty. She was still so
weak from her reawakening that she fell asleep while going pee, her nude
body so pure and untainted I knew to keep my actions perfectly decent.
With a bright white oversize diaper tugged up her lovely legs she was
carried to and gently allowed to lie on my master bed while I got the
fire in my bedroom stoked ready to keep us toasty warm. The house was
checked, cleaned up a little bit, and finally everything prepared for a
long night of silence.
Climbing into bed with what ostensibly was an elementary school girl
with slightly overdeveloped breasts was a feat unto itself, my arms
easily claiming my half naked sleeping partner as soon as I was all the
way under the covers. The light of the fireplace as the intermittent
bursts of brightness danced beyond our feet seemed the perfect silent
witness to her left arm slipping under my right as she pressed her bare
chest into mine. It felt so magical for her to lay her head onto my
body and snuggle into me as if we'd always shared a bed, her warmth
growing as soon as her small breasts came into contact with my form. I
could have done so much to ease the sense of sexual frustration in my
body, but there would be plenty of time for that after she whispered
lots of nasty ideas into one or both of my ears.
The first time I woke up she had her left knee cocked up and over my
hips and had captured my erect penis between the back of her full thigh
and the smoothness of her calf. I might have excused her actions as
purely mechanical or comforting in nature, had it not been for her hips
slowly undulating into my left hipbone. It was apparent she had a
natural inclination for sexual pleasure, but rather than assume too much
I just smiled and held her slightly tighter to my body. If she wanted
to play with me in any way while she slept, I would accept her deeds as
naive and innocent physical contact and nothing more.
The next time I woke up she had her head tilted back slightly and was
staring into my eyes. It made for a strange first image and highly
unusual first morning together, but a smile was offered and then
received as my reward. I was reluctant to kiss her with a mouth that
might have tasted like a sewer, but Shirestilla had no such modesty and
reached up slightly to press her lips to mine. Her actions were brave
and confident, little of her uncoordinated movements from the day before
evident as she tenderly claimed both of my lips one at a time. All we
did for about ten minutes was just kiss, her plump bee-stung lips
eagerly munched on with just as much passion as she showed me.
Acting as her provider rather than lover, I rolled her onto her back and
undid her diaper so I could check for wetness. Thankfully she was still
dry so I lifted her just like that out of bed and took her to the master
bathroom. Moments after she was sitting on the padded ring I heard the
familiar sound of urine striking the water below. After she was
finished, I traded places with her, my thighs eagerly accepting her bare
fanny so she could snuggle with me for a minute or so longer.
After I finished and the commode was flushed, I carried her to bed and
then stoked the fire, the coals from the previous night's log just
enough to get the next log started in no more than three minutes. My
tender lover was dressed in the same thick white cotton terry cloth robe
and my long dark blue one was draped around my body so we could take
care of some other business before we ate breakfast. Showing her how to
brush her teeth was like a circus act with three extra rings. She
didn't know whether to chew on the flexible bristles or lick the tooth
brush from tip to handle.
Once I got her hair brushed and tied back into a long single ponytail
behind her head, I pulled her into a nice long hug and then helped her
take her first steps at my side back to the bedroom. She stumbled a few
times, but she got the hang of it pretty well after five minutes of
effort. She still liked to be carried, though, and I had no desire to
argue with her when she wrapped her short arms around my neck and stared
up into my eyes after she was in my arms.
Breakfast wasn't nearly the wild adventure I thought it might be, my
quiet guest accepting everything I offered. She was so good, in fact,
that I even gave her a sample of buttered toast after most of her softer
foods had been tried. To see and hear her crunch the toasted bread with
her mouth open a little bit was truly funny, although I'd eventually
teach her how to chew with her mouth closed, just so she didn't offend
the ladies at the local social club, you see.
The kitchen was returned to its earlier condition, my tiny lover-to-be
carried back to our bedroom, and the next three hours spent just looking
at each others' eyes as we lie naked in bed. Her smaller body stirred
me into throbbing madness and the only liberty I took was to slip my
penis between her thighs and gently push forward so I could sample from
her smooth silken warmth. She seemed to understand at an instinctive
level that I was enjoying how it felt to shift back and forth very
slowly between her full legs, because she pushed her hips into me and
pushed hard enough forward for the softness of her nude pudendum to be
distorted slightly by my pubic bone when I was as far forward as my
travel permitted. For her to actually rock her hips and squeeze her
thighs together around my cock confirmed that she was growing more aware
of her surroundings by the minute. I just hoped she wouldn't 'grow up'
too quickly, because I liked the way she exhibited her pure and naive
demeanor. I might not feel that way after she learned how to masturbate
and then fuck me wildly, but for the time being I truly reveled in her
innocence and child-like attitude.
To hear her giggle when I began to play with and fondle her nipples and
small breasts filled me with a combination of guilt and lust, but I had
no desire to stop molesting her until she tugged on the back of my head
and encouraged me to suckle on one and then the other erect nubbin. She
slowly grew more and more aroused with each moment of our sexual union
until I felt her push down and in so the top of my penis began to rub
against the saddle of her pussy. About the only smart thing I did was
hold her still clean and unoccupied diaper over the end of my dick when
I unloaded between her supple thighs. I wanted so desperately to fuck
my young partner, but again knew to wait until she actually asked me.
Acting in a very asexual manner for the rest of the day, I kept both
fireplaces going at a slightly reduced level so the house could be warm
but our firewood supply not placed in jeopardy, and then helped her to
gain a more confident footing as she improved her walking technique. To
see her bat her eyelashes at me and hold her arms out told me she, like
all women, knew just what tools and attitudes to use to get her way. I
had no hesitation to pull her onto my lap and hold her like a baby as we
sat on the couch and remained quiet in front of the living room fire.
After dinner and both fireplaces fed as well, I carried my naked guest
to the master bath so we could settle in for another nice long bath.
She emptied her bladder and bowels before we got in, I did the same, and
with us submerged to our necks in warm bubble-filled water I held her
against my body and softly caressed her from shoulder to the inside of
her tender left knee.
My touch seemed to enliven her because she began to mimic my actions
until she found my penis. That single erect extension of my body
stopped her movements but not her desires, her fingers rhythmically
shifting up and down my throbbing cock until I began to feel something
that I'd only ever felt with my own hand, and once between her velvety
thighs. The only smart thing I did with the pump running was to cup a
cotton towel over my dick when that familiar tingle turned into a hard
throbbing ache that had but one purpose, the cotton wash cloth filled
almost to overflowing when my hips undulated into her hand involuntarily
for almost a minute. I actually saw stars while she masturbated me, the
feel of her small hand around my penis enough to make me wish I'd had a
little girlfriend from the time I'd been old enough to know how to use
my rock hard cock.
Since she'd provided me with our first consented and shared sexual
experience, it was time for me to return the favor. Her body was turned
so her back was pressed against the smooth warmth of the fiberglass tub,
her thighs slightly splayed so I had plenty of room to fondle and then
play with her tender 'baby place', and then a gentle exploration of her
soft pussy until I found the prize that had always eluded me after
Shirestilla first arrived and let me lick her.
Her clitoris was far more sensitive than I imagined, the lightest caress
all that was necessary for me to stir her body to twitch and jerk around
to dozens of little tremors. Once I mapped all of her responsive areas
and knew where to rub and how hard to press, she was little more than a
preteen cum factory for the next half hour. Whatever pleasure her body
had known as a faerie was transferred to her more human one, her
clitoris, nipples, and whole body one huge erogenous zone once I got her
excited.
Lifting her thighs over my shoulders and centering my face onto her
plump nude vulva once we were in bed might have pushed her development
quite a bit, but her grip of my hair or ears and her hands pushing my
face hard into her plump silken pussy belied any naiveté she might have
claimed or held back. Shirestilla seemed to instinctively remember how
it felt to have an almost continuous orgasm, because she never let me
remove my face from her naked pudendum and tight girl-slit all night. I
never had such a good time trying to breathe from between her snug grip
and full thighs and actually looked forward to passing out while she
gripped my head with far more strength than I had imagined.
By the time the sun came up and the bedroom was being lit by the gray
glow from the triple insulated windows, she finally had enough and fell
asleep exhausted under my face. Rather than just fall asleep between
her sexy legs, I rose from the bed, picked her up, carried her to the
bathroom, and helped her tend to her normal morning routine. After a
few bites of food and a long drink of highly sugared fruit juice, we
were back in bed and asleep until well after noon.
For the next week, each day was a new experience for Shirestilla, her
awareness of certain things stirring her to smile, a few attempts made
to say a few words, and then a growing look into my eyes confirming that
she knew where the bedroom was and what we could do with her thighs
tight to my ears and her ankles locked behind my head. It wasn't until
late November that she finally began to say a few words that I was able
to clearly understand.
"Teddy?"
"Yes, Pretty?"
"I . . . normal?"
"Yes you are, Pretty. You're perfectly normal."
"Wings?"
"No, Pretty, you don't have wings anymore. You used to when you were a
little faerie, but after you drank my seed one time, your body changed
and you grew up to be my size and more like me than how you grew up."
"Seed?"
"Yes, Lover. Once you smelled my seed you seemed to crave it so
strongly that you practically sucked it out of my penis."
"Suck?"
"Yes you did, Pretty."
"Suck . . . now?"
"You . . . you want to suck me right now, Pretty?"
"Yes . . . Master."
It was the first time since she'd evolved that she called me by that
wickedly sexy title, but her desire to please me orally was far more
erotic.
"Are you sure, Pretty? You don't have to do that "
I didn't even get to finish my assurance that she didn't have to
'perform' like that or my warning that she was going to get a mouthful
of semen when she made me cum before she shifted her body over mine and
forced me onto my back in bed.
Acting far more confidently and at ease than ever before in my life, I
watched a naked elementary school girl shift her face down my body until
she claimed my cock with her small hands and then very expertly wrapped
her soft lips around my glans. I almost unloaded into her at our first
contact. It was the first time in my life that I had been fellated by
what was nothing more than a little girl, her small mouth but skillful
demeanor an instinctive art that she didn't even have to think about.
I had to actually slow her down three different times or I'd lose my
load and ruin it for at least an hour. To distract her slightly I
tugged her body over mine, pulled her thighs apart with no more effort
than lifting a feather off the ground, and the centered my mouth onto
her nude and slightly damp vulva. She found the mutual sensation of
oral pleasure far more satisfying than I anticipated, her movements on
me slowing to a much more enjoyable pace so we could pleasure each other
much longer and to a greater degree of arousal.
To feel her hum and moan into my cock was far too much for me, so I
began to subdue her clitoris with a strong suck between my lips and then
flicked it with the tip of my tongue until her hips began to undulate
almost wildly over my face. Slowing down just enough so she could think
clearly enough to focus on me was yet another creative way to bring her
closer to me emotionally and psychologically, because once we found each
others' working dynamic it was a battle to keep from cumming into her
mouth and for her to stop from cumming onto mine. I fucked that little
girl's mouth for over two hours before I couldn't take any more and
filled her small cavity with as much semen as I could produce. She
sucked every measure of my cum down and even tried to get more after I
emptied my balls. To take her down a notch I sucked her clitoris hard
and flailed at her nubbin with wild flicks and stabs until she released
my penis and moaned hard enough for me to feel her breath on my dick.
"Ohhh, Master! I just love the way you please my baby place like that!
I wish we could stay just like this forever and ever."
"Mmmmmm! We can stay like this for as long as you want to, Pretty."
I wasn't aware of her using much more complete sentences and more well
developed and sophisticated concepts until well after I stopped
twitching under her and finished speaking from between her full thighs.
"Pretty?"
"Yes, Master?"
"What do you remember, Love?"
"What do you mean, Master?"
"Just . . . tell me what you remember about us being like this."
"Well . . . ever since my rebirth, I've been trying to speak and tell
you how happy I am that I'm your size now, even though I'm still very
frightened about so many things. Everything seems so different now that
I'm bigger, and I feel strange because I no longer have my wings. But
just being with you like this and sleeping next to your big body makes
me feel so complete that I know we were meant to be together, just as
The Great One had preordained."
"What made it easier for you to speak, Pretty?"
"Your seed, Master. I knew there was something on or in you that I
needed to help me speak, but until a little while ago I wasn't sure what
it was or how to ask for it. But now that I'm your size and know how
wonderful it feels for me to wrap my lips around your strong baby maker,
all I want to do is keep it in my mouth and "
Her sudden silence scared me, until she began to speak again, this time
much more softly.
"Master?"
"Yes, Pretty?"
"May we . . . would you be offended . . . is it possible . . . "
"You may ask me, Pretty. Go ahead and ask me."
"May we couple, Master?"
With a few delicate kisses to her very slick pussy, I shifted her around
until she was facing me and her thighs were gripping my still erect
penis. All it took was a long hard stare into her eyes for me to see
the fire that was a part of her name.
"On one condition, Pretty."
Her expression dropped as if I was going to beat her half to death just
to prove to her that I was her Lord and Master, but she kept looking
into my eyes and confidently answered like a good little slave should.
"Whatever you ask of me, Master . . . I will gladly do without question
or delay. I am yours to command and enjoy for the rest of my life."
Pulling her into a snug embrace seemed to defuse her anxiety and relax
her quite a bit, her hips slowly rocking into my body as a cue that she
truly understood what we were about to do. Whispering into her left ear
and even kissing her slightly pointed elfin curl slowed her gyrations
just enough to make her smile and look into my eyes.
"I want to see your baby place first, my love. Before I take your
virginity away from you, I want to see what you look like as a virgin
faerie one last time."
"You aren't taking anything from me, Master. I freely offer my purity
to you and am very proud that I have the love and affection of my true
lover for the rest of time. I just hope I don't displease you because
I've never coupled before, Master. If I had gained experience with my
creator and as many of the other boy faeries as I could before you found
me, then I might be able to give you even more pleasure."
"I'm not the least bit disappointed, my love. In fact, I feel more
proud that I'll be the first lover you've ever had. Besides . . . if
you had other lovers before me, you might be disappointed with me, you
sexy little sprite."
"I'm not a sprite anymore, Master. I'm your very own lover and little,
what's the word, Master?"
"Little girl, Pretty. You're my very own sexy lover and very horny
little girl, the little girl that I'm going to love for the rest of my
life, and even after we die in each others' arms and merge our souls in
the afterlife."
"Ohhhh, MASTER!"
She almost tore my skin with her incredibly tight hug, but it felt good
to endure that kind of pain. After a minute of one very amorous hug,
she let me go, leaned back slightly, and then looked deeply into my eyes
before she spoke.
"I want you to look at my baby place as much as you want to, Master,
before, during, and after we couple until the next sun comes to greet
us. Please tell me that we can couple for that long, Master, please?"
The imbecilic grin on my face seemed to answer her question, because she
kissed me tenderly, rose to a seated position over my face for a moment,
pushed her nude pussy forward so I could stare at it less than an inch
from my nose, and after I touched, kissed, and then licked her she lay
down next to me, cocked her knees all the way out and pulled me up so I
could examine her as much as I wanted to. Having her hold a small
mirror and flashlight so we could explore her vulva, clitoris, and
vagina for the next hour together was more than an education for her and
an erotic fantasy for me, it seemed to cement a bond between us that in
sex we were complete equals.
For me to tenderly manipulate her bald labia majora and tease her plump
vulvar lips apart so I could learn as much about her as I possible could
was the most exciting and stimulating experience in my entire adult
life. She looked so much like a little girl that I knew I'd always been
a pedophile, but I'd never been around enough little girls to know that
I preferred them over adult women. To lightly caress her bald nether
lips and paint her whole pussy with her ample lubrication was most
likely nothing more that a means of puerile fun, but she never once did
anything but giggle when I tickled her or stirred her to twitch when I
played with her clitoris.
During our sex education class I repeatedly showed her what it looked
like for her clitoris to pop out from under its protective hood, her
prepuce easily surrendering to my whims so I could rub and lick her
nubbin, her repeated hisses and grunts completely ignored because all I
was doing was 'learning' about her body. She accepted my studious
claims only so long, the mirror and flashlight dropped in preference of
her hands going around the back of my head so I could give her a nice
long fifteen minute long cum. She still tasted incredibly sweet each
time I stirred her body to exude copious amounts of lubrication, her
last offering allowed to remain between her labia majora when she began
to tug on my head so signal our next activity.
It looked so frightfully erotic for me to bring my twitching cock closer
and closer to her bald pussy, her hips pushing up into the air in a
gesture of anxious need as I drew out our first union. I knew it was
making her first time more than a little frustrating, because she'd
already been 'broken' by her tiny wooden toy, but there was only going
to be one 'first time' for us and I wanted it to be special for both,
not just one of us.
The instant our genitals touched, she hissed and I groaned, but neither
of us lunged forward to complete our bond. Instead we both felt each
others' quivers and highly subdued involuntary thrusts, our union so
close but meant to last a long time because of the importance of the
moment. Of all the things that I could have imagined about my first
time with a little girl, taking my time wasn't something that I could
have expected because of the intense need to feel her pussy around my
throbbing cock. But Shirestilla was going to be my one and only little
girl lover, and our joining had a much more spiritual and emotional
significance than just a man fucking a preteen child.
The moment she felt my glans pop past her incredibly snug outer vaginal
ring, she hissed again, pulled my face down to her mouth, and spoke
directly into my lips.
"I freely give myself to you, Master . . . Theodore Brendan Cotswald, as
your lover, your slave, your grown up faerie, and your partner for the
rest of our lives and even beyond into eternity. Use me as much and in
any way you wish, my love, for you own me and have the right to do with
me as you desire. I need you to couple with me until you have no more
strength, and even then I will feed you fruits and bring you drink so
you may couple with me again, over and over. I've waited my whole life
for this, Master, and you've made this possible. Mate with me, my love,
and use me like a dirty little pixie that I am."
While staring directly into her eyes I slowly pushed into her vagina and
felt every tender feature of her insides ripple with excitement until
our hips pressed hard into each others' bodies and I began to roll her
nubbin with my pubic bone. I knew I wasn't going to be able to last
very long inside such a tight and glorious location, so I rocked my hips
side-to-side and rolled her clitoris around, my young lover trying her
best to keep from cumming but unable to when I lunged into her a few
times and then pressed more of my weight onto her Mons Veneris. She
knew what I was doing but had no resistance to my efforts, her whimpers
and pitiful mewls growing in intensity until she was bucking hard into
me and trying to coax me to fill her tender and immature insides.
What surprised me more than her was my stamina and endurance, a keen
awareness strangely acquired that I was able to hold out if I shifted a
certain way and distracted her enough so I could rest ever few seconds.
While she twitched and convulsed under me time and time again and I
rocked the tip of my penis across her Grafenburg spot just right, I was
slowly losing my battle and began to feel that electric buzzing that
signaled my own orgasm.
She must have sensed something different about my movements because she
took advantage of my weakened state, and while she was shuddering to yet
another orgasm and her insides her milking me involuntarily, she gripped
me firmly inside her vagina and then began to fuck me hard and fast. I
was so overwhelmed by her actions that I lunged forward and drove my
cock as far inside her tender body as I could, her head tilted back as
she let out a guttural scream.
"NuuuuuuUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
I matched and nearly bested her verbal exclamation with one of my own,
the sensation of cumming inside a bald-pussied elementary school girl so
incredibly immoral that I lost all control and jackhammered that poor
little girl with every measure of my strength. I fucked that precious
child far harder than I had intended, but she seemed to crave my efforts
and wrapped her short legs around my butt, locked her ankles together,
and drove her pussy into the air as hard as she could while she clamped
down onto my penis.
Somewhere after ten or fifteen minutes of unbelievably wild fucking we
both let out one last wail of coital bliss and then went rigid, our
muscles locking up for a few moments and then convulsing involuntarily
until all we could to was pull our lover hard into our own body and kiss
each other in a mad display of lingual and labial affection. We finally
stopped thrusting into each other about an hour later, my weight making
me think I might hurt her until she squeezed my body hard with both her
arms and legs. She had no other place for me to be than inside and on
top of her for the next four hours, and I eagerly complied.
The entire time we were connected we slowly undulated our hips into each
other and reveled in the luxurious friction of our union, my penis
easily finding every minor ridge and feature of her vagina, and her
strong muscular grip around my cock conforming our genitals in such a
way that no air and barely any lubrication was able to exist between us.
By the time the room began to get light, we were staring into each
others' gaze and absolutely convinced that nothing could ever be as good
as coupling in our own bed. I'd done exactly as she asked, staying hard
and connected to her, my dick as far inside her plump and bald pussy all
night long.
Even in climbing out of bed and tending to our morning routines, we knew
we'd be right back in bed and fucking until we fell asleep, both fires
stoked to keep the house warm, and my tender lover laying over me until
we both fell asleep some time later that day.
It was going to be difficult to explain to the local doctor why a
virtual eight year old little girl's belly was distended and she was
carrying a growing life within her that I'd helped create. Trying to
explain that she wasn't really eight and that we were in fact a common
law married couple also added a measure of difficulty to my task, but as
soon as she examined my young wife, the obstetrician/pediatrician knew
by the size of Pretty's growing breasts and her much more mature genital
features that she couldn't be a mere prepubescent preteen.
What I didn't know at the time was a secret fantasy that the doctor had
about her own little girls getting pregnant before they passed through
menarche, their father dead-set against his girls ever learning about
sex, especially from him. I might have been talked into helping them
along, but I had my own little lover to take care of, and soon, our
first child. Since the doctor had sympathies toward such a widely aged
sexual relationship, an immoral physical union between an adult man and
what looked like a female child, and the subsequent living product
within my lover's plump belly, she never reported my having repeatedly
sexed, lingually masturbated, and digitally molested that darling
hairless little girl to the cops. I was grateful for her understanding
and made sure to pad her wallet with an extra bundle of cash after our
first meeting.
Victoria RaeLynn Anastasia was born on November 21st after only an hour
of labor, my sexy young mother glowing with pride when her baby was
placed on her bare belly and washed clean. Moments after our raven
haired child was measured, weighed, fingerprinted and her footprint
placed in the proper place on a long form that both Pretty and I signed,
her lips found her mother's erect nipple and I watched my young lover
have an orgasm as her baby suckled and nibbled on her aching teat. I
was tempted to slip my naughty hand under the sheet and fondle the young
mother's clitoris until she screamed in delight, but I could wait until
after she was properly cleaned and back home before I began to torture
her.
Tori was a miracle baby, her eyes open and staring at her mother and me
from the first few moments of her life, and her demeanor unlike any
newborn I'd ever heard of. She rarely cried, seemed to be eternally
smiling, loved to be tickled and played with, and slept like the dead
when we put her down for a nap or held her between us at night. She
seemed to take on the best traits from both of her parents, and I
couldn't have imagined creating a more perfect little girl. Our baby
was the antithesis of anything I could have conceived, figuratively and
literally. She was perfect in more ways than I could have imagined.
Epilog ---
The fact that I restored a tiny faerie's willingness to love, be loved,
rescued her from self destruction, and turned her desire to end her
existence into freely giving herself to me were gifts that I'll never be
able to repay or completely comprehend. In a queer twist of fate her
desire for death was because she couldn't have something as simple and
genuine as love because of her perceived physical uniqueness; my desire
to escape from my life in the city was because I couldn't have something
as sincere as a friend and lover.
Nothing prepared me for how my life had progressed and how it had been
altered after Shirestilla came into my life. But after having spent the
rest of my quiet vacation away from any other people and then retiring
to our mountain retreat, I never wanted to go back and feel the pangs of
greed and corruption ever again nor the hollow offerings of the people
that knew how much money I had.
She thought I rescued her, but it was really the other way around, my
life almost forfeit before she flitted into my cabin through an open
window and made me aware of how important I could be to someone that
hungered for love as much as I had for so many years.
Rather than remain as a diminutive and winged creature with an almost
unlimited natural lifespan, she's now my full-size, albeit petite lover,
my wife, and the mother to my children. Oh yeah, a year after Tori was
born our second little girl, Tatiana Rain came into our lives and graced
us with her smiles, her vivacious attitude, and a perfect match for her
older sister.
Shirestilla became quite human, was prone to injury and death, sans her
shiny cellophane wings, still naked, wonderfully plump and hairless, a
lovely dirty blond instead of hair that glowed like liquid silver, her
skin converted to a love pink hue and glowing as she lay naked next to
me on the floor in front of the fire with our two beautiful and equally
nude little girls. La is far more eager to prove that we were meant to
love each other than any other woman I'd ever met in my life, her almost
endless need to touch and be touched a constant invitation for carnal
affection.
Whatever illusion I had about my life being forfeit was quickly and
completely forgotten, the rest of my formerly boring and planned
existence meant to be shared with Shirestilla and our girls in a much
happier and less frivolous lifestyle. My financial past was totally
empty and meaningless, devoid of any value because my ambitions were for
the wrong prize. La helped me understand that my previously decent
ethics in my youth had been polluted by avarice, selfishness, and a lust
for something that was more elusive and unattainable than the money that
I had always strived to acquire.
I had missed it all along, the only thing that two people needed was as
close as our own beating hearts -- Happiness in love.
I had no idea she could coax so much energy from my body, my previously
inept sexual abilities far more than a match for any porn star on a DVD
or video tape, and much more than any well-hung and virile male actor as
he thrust his long tool into his on-screen partner with pride. So long
as La is with me, I'll best any man on the planet. We're thinking about
another child next year.
--
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
--