by Sahara Kelly
The deep voice rumbled against her back and made a spot between her shoulder blades itch frantically. She wriggled.
A laugh met her struggles. “Oh yes, Sal. This one will be a definite asset,” and on the word “asset,” Persephone felt a pressure between her buttocks.
Something warm and damp tickled between her shoulder blades as his tongue hit the exact spot that was irritating her. She jumped as a thrill of pure sexual electricity shot from her back to her breasts to her clit.
The pressure between her cheeks increased, and she found herself going up on her toes as a very firm cock slid into the space between the top of her thighs. She breathed a little easier as scary visions of anal sex diminished and the cock contented itself with a slow sensual glide along her pussy lips.
The hands continued their assault on her now-harder-than-rock nipples, and she felt herself getting quite warm and wet in places that probably shouldn’t be warm and wet in public.
“Uh, your Majesty? Um, Sal, Clover?” Persephone felt the color flooding her skin as she got more and more turned on.
Clover was watching Persephone’s body with intense concentration, and Sal was grinning at whoever stood behind her.
“Wings, Sal, I think. This is one hot little recruit…”
At the rough command, Sal moved in front of Persephone and spread his wings wide, screening her from the casual passer-by. Or flitterer-by. Or whatever fairies called their pedestrians.
Knowing her mind was rambling, Persephone tried to tug her hands free.
“Hey guys, we shouldn’t be doing…Sal, what…?” Her head tipped back and met a wall of flesh and her eyes caught a glimpse of a dark, finely trimmed beard and a pair of gleaming black eyes.
Brilliant wings were hovering over her, which, combined with Sal’s, pretty much guaranteed their privacy. Without her realizing it, the fairies had drifted her over to a wall where a convenient corner hid them from most of the corridor.
The hands separated, one staying firmly on her breast and the other slipping down to the moistness between her legs.
“Go ahead you two,” said the voice of Oberon, King of the Fairies.
As if released from some kind of paralysis, Clover and Sal jumped into the game. Sal tipped his head and flicked out his tongue.
It had to be at least six inches long and Persephone felt her eyes widen as she watched it circle her free nipple. Dear heavens, no wonder he’d shaken Clover’s wings last night.
Rough and raspy, it teased and tantalized her flesh in concert with the King’s hand. She choked in a breath.
Which she promptly lost as Clover placed her hand over Persephone’s mound and coaxed her clit out of hiding.
Oberon’s cock was sliding freely now, rubbing itself between her thighs high up against her cunt, and getting well bathed in Persephone’s juices. His tongue was working that itchy spot on her spine and reducing her to blithering idiocy and the hand that wasn’t teasing her nipple was guiding her hips into a rhythm that she found echoed her heartbeat.
Combined with Sal’s tongue and Clover’s oh-so-talented fingers, Persephone was hopelessly swept up into a whirlpool of sexual sensations. Her body turned into one shivering sexual organ and within seconds she was trembling incoherently.
“Go ahead, darling. Let it out for us,” the deep voice urged.
“I can’t…oh god…please…” Stuttering and incoherent, Persephone gave up the battle and “let it out.”
She came with a sharp cry and for a second or two blacked out as waves of orgasmic sensations crashed over her from her toes to her eyebrows.
“Good girl,” said Oberon, jamming his cock up hard along her pulsating pussy to catch every last twitch.
“Oh my, Persephone. Very nice indeed,” agreed Sal, with a final loving swirl to her just-about-dead nipple. “In spite of the taste.”
“Mmm, you’re going to do just fine, lovey,” echoed Clover, smiling from ear to ear and sucking her fingers clean of Persephone’s juices.
Gently, Oberon eased himself from between her legs, away from her trembling body and moved around her, letting her have her first good look at him.
She couldn’t help it. She gasped.
He towered over her, dark, shining, smiling and sexy as all hell. He was unselfconsciously tucking his massive and still-hard cock back into his pants as she stared at him, and grinning at her with such great good humor that she couldn’t help but smile back.
His huge wings were almost blinding, covered with myriads of twinkling colors that sparkled and flashed as he moved. A tiny coronet banded his forehead with a glowing stone centered on it, but not glowing anywhere near as brightly as his eyes. His long hair tumbled onto his wide shoulders and his goatee was closely trimmed and tidy. He made her tingle just by looking at her. Must have been some kind of magical fairy aftershave, decided Persephone. And boy, did it work.
“Welcome, Persephone. On behalf of all of us here in Fairyland, we’re glad you’re with us.”
She was seized with an absurd desire to curtsey. She restrained herself.
“Thank you, er—your Majesty. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what the heck I’m doing here?”
He shook his head. “You’ll get all that stuff from Sugar at Orientation. Don’t worry your pretty head over it. Just relax, I know you’ll fit in just fine.” His attention was wandering. “Sal, you seen Tits anywhere?”
“No, your Majesty. Not since last night’s party. “
Oberon sighed. “Damn the woman. I’ll have to go hunt her down. Right this minute.” He turned back to Persephone with another killer grin. “Thanks to you, honey.”
He stroked her face and then turned with a swoosh, launching himself into the corridor and streaking off in a blur of sparkling wings.
She turned to Sal. “Tits?”
“Yeah. Titania, the Queen.”
“He calls the Queen, Tits?”
“Well sure,” answered Clover, grabbing Persephone’s hand and encouraging her along the corridor again. “He may be restricted to coming in the back end of the mushroom with the others, so to speak, but he loves his queen’s frontal assets as much as any husband.”
Persephone’s head spun. “Mushroom? Back end? I don’t get it.”
“You will, babe.”
* * * * *
Two floors down and several corridors over, the suite that held the offices of the Fairyland website and weekly Internet newsletter echoed with the sound of crying. The large front room held two occupants, and on the rear wall was a closed door bearing a neatly carved sign saying Thorne Leatherfly, Editor. It could just as easily have read Thorne Leatherfly, Miserable Bastard as far as Cobweb Glitterworm was concerned.
She sobbed delicately into her handkerchief, tears rolling from her eyes like tiny shining jewels. Cobweb took her Victorian fairy image very seriously and lost no opportunity to let her fragile pearlescent tears cascade down her porcelain complexion. In fact, there were times when she actively sought out the opportunity. Those times usually resulted when no one was paying her much in the way of serious attention.
Norman Elderbranch wanted to take Cobweb very seriously. He wanted to take her in an assorted variety of serious positions, in a variety of serious places, and bring her to an untold number of serious climaxes.
He wanted to see those delicate and fragile fairy wings of hers tense into rigid spikes and then shudder violently as she came in mighty waves right down to her little caterpillar-skin booties. Which he would, of course, have taken off her sometime earlier. Or maybe not. Especially if they were the lavender ones with the spiked heels.
He wanted to watch her as he brushed his beard across her teeny fairy tits, and maybe rubbed her dainty fairy clit with it. He certainly wanted to observe her reactions as he put his pointy hat to good use. Perhaps he’d even try those new chains the gnomes from the forge had made a couple of weeks ago. Cobweb would look lovely in silver chain restraints, moonlight and his cum.
He
sighed. There were no rules against fairy-gnome sex, but sometimes it was bloody hard convincing the fairies of that fact.
Not to mention that there were no gnome women around at the moment who would give him the time of day. The birth rate was soaring in favor of males, which made for a pretty testosterone-laden bar scene. And everyone knew you didn’t fuck around with another gnome’s woman. There were a few males singing soprano in the gnome chapel who’d tried it.
And so he sat patiently, passing delicate handkerchiefs to the object of his current lust, and trying his best to hide a major hard-on beneath his tunic and away from her dewy blue eyes.
Cobweb sniffed.
“And then he yelled at me again, Norman. That’s the third time this week and all because I’d forgotten to get the graphics ready for the current issue. I didn’t know I had to do all that stuff, I thought someone else would. And I only took this job as a favor to the King. No one else wants it. And why should I get yelled at when it’s not my fault, I’d like to know.”
Norman ventured a delicate caress of her shaking wings. Of course, if she’d done her rather simple job in the first place, she wouldn’t have brought Leatherfly’s temper down on her head, but then again, this was Cobweb, mistress of the hurt feelings and emotional scenes. Her breasts trembled as she sobbed in a breath. Norman’s cock twitched and he cursed under his breath.
“Poor dear. Leatherfly is a jerk. He shouldn’t have come down so hard on you. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He continued his caressing strokes.
Cobweb hiccupped and blew her nose loudly.
Norman, spellbound by the feel of her wings, ignored it.
“Um, Norman?”
“Yeah, darling?”
“You’re drooling on my skirt.”
Norman jumped back. “Ooops. Sorry. It’s just that you’re so—I mean your wings are just—and when I touch them, I—“
Cobweb gave a watery giggle. “Why Norman, I think you like me.”
Norman, whose cock was about to explode inside his little red trousers, smiled tightly at her. He wondered if his beard was on fire yet.
“You’re sweet,” said Cobweb, reaching out and unerringly finding one of his seventy-nine erogenous zones. The one right behind his left earlobe.
He groaned.
“You know, I’ve heard it said that gnomes are very—er—impressively built.” She glanced at his tunic that fell to his thighs and hid whatever secrets lurked within his pants. “Is it true, Norman?”
Norman bit down on the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood. “Wanna find out, sweetheart?” He couldn’t help asking, he was fighting his gnome instincts here. Instincts that screamed at him to throw a chain on this tootsie, lash her to the nearest tree root, and fuck her every way to Tuesday until she fainted from coming so often and so hard.
“Well…I was thinking of going to Neville’s ’Gnome Away From Gnome’ for a few drinks tonight…”
Norman’s heart leapt. Neville’s had a well deserved reputation for hot and sexy entertainment, hot and sexy patrons, and dark, convenient alcoves where the patrons could indulge their need for hot sex. He cleared his throat.
“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going there, too. Perhaps we could meet there.” His fingers kept up their stroking on her wings and he noticed her pupils getting larger as he moved toward her back.
Her tongue flicked out and licked her lips as he brushed against her skin and back up along her wing rib.
“Norman,” she whispered. “I like what you’re doing.”
“I’m glad.” His voice was rough.
“Oh, my,” she gasped, as his beard parted and coiled itself around her small breasts. “I didn’t know gnomes could do…” She gasped again.
“There’s lots we do that you might find pleasant,” grunted Norman, very close to losing control.
“Like what?” she breathed, eyes drifting shut as he continued touching her with his hands and his beard.
He eased himself between her thighs, allowing his hips to spread her legs wide. Sitting on her office chair, she was at just the right height for a little gnome gnookie.
His fingers crept up her leg and under the soft billowing silk of her fairy skirt. Her fairy flesh was warm and fragrant and he shuddered as he found her fairy clit.
“Cut it out, you two. If you’re gonna fuck, do it somewhere else, not in my office on my time.”
The Editor’s voice shattered the mood and sent Cobweb into another flood of tears.
If fairycide had been legal, Norman Elderbranch would have cheerfully murdered Thorne Leatherfly. He could have used his cock to do it too, seeing as it was now harder than marble and would make an excellent blunt instrument.
But gnomes are nothing if not patient, and Norman yanked his hormones back from the brink. He looked over at his boss.
“You’re a jerk, Leatherfly. Go harass some other sprite, will you?”
Thorne’s mouth curled in spite of himself. “A jerk, huh?”
“Yeah. Just because you haven’t gotten laid recently, don’t be such a pissass to the rest of us, okay?”
Cobweb gasped at Norman’s daringly blunt language, but Leatherfly merely laughed.
“Norman, you’re a brass-balled terror. God knows why I keep you around. Now put that little flippety-gibbet down. You’re getting her all stoked up and I can smell her from here. I need you to get me a list of new recruits for the newsletter, and please, try not to fuck this up, will you? If we’re late again with this damn thing, my ass is grass.”
Chapter 3
The bathing chamber Persephone found herself in looked like some kind of insane vision of a kitchen store. Enormously oversized cereal bowls were plumbed in as baths, and fragrant steam rose from the upended butter dish that doubled as a shower.
“Whoa. Freaky.” The words slipped out as Persephone gazed, wide-eyed, around the strange room.
“What’s freaky, darling?” asked Clover, busying herself with towels and bottles.
“Well, all this kitchen china. And it’s huge, too. Your designer must have been smoking something really strange that day.” She waved her hand at the screened off sections where four eggcups were neatly lidded in front of small white tanks. “I mean, eggcup toilets?”
Sal and Clover glanced at each other.
“Into the tub with you, Persephone. We’ll explain as we wash you.” Sal dumped a container full of what looked like little flower bells into one of the cereal bowls and urged Persephone forward, pulling her pink cloud off her as she passed.
At this point, she was getting quite used to wandering around with nothing on but her skin. Her back itched and she wriggled to hit the spot.
“How’s that?” asked Sal, rubbing the exact place where she had an irritated patch of skin.
“Aaaaah.” Persephone sighed and closed her eyes in bliss, surprised to find her nipples instantly hardening. Must be something in the air.
“Come on, a good scrub will make you feel much better. In you go.” Clover turned off the faucets and Persephone lowered herself into the water, sniffing at the delicate lily of the valley fragrance and dodging the flower petals still on the surface.
“So, what am I doing here?”
Clover fussed around with soaps and washcloths. “Well, you must have a skill we need, I guess. What do you do, Persephone?”
“I’m an office management consultant. I can make your office efficient, and save you money at the same time.”
Sal shook his head. “My goodness. Such talent. And she fucks well too.”
“Yeah, about this fucking thing…does everyone here live around the concept that a fuck a day keeps the fly swatter away?”
Clover snorted. “Persephone. This is Fairyland. We like sex. We’re good at it. Adjust, okay?”
“Well, I’m trying to. But I don’t understand why I’m here, how I got here, and whether I can go home again or not.”
Sal dunked her head and she came up sputtering. “Hey.” She spa
t a petal across the tub and wiped her mouth.
“Sorry, dear. Got to get those tangles taken care of.” He filled his hands with shampoo and began to work it into her hair.
“You will get all that information and more from Sugar at Orientation, sweetie. Right now, the most important thing is for you to relax and let your body adjust to the new sensations that being in Fairyland are going to cause.”
Persephone looked a bit nervous but Sal’s fingers continued their soothing massage and soon she felt some of her tension ease. “This is deluxe, guys.” She smiled, leaning back and slipping up to her chin in warmth. “So, tell me about Oberon, mushrooms and back doors.”
Persephone closed her eyes as Sal continued shampooing her hair and Clover began soaping her body.
“Well, you know Oberon and Titania are our King and Queen?” Clover paused at her toes.
“Well, of course. Everyone who’s read any Shakespeare will tell you that.”
“Pah,” snorted Sal. “That man didn’t do us any favors, thank you very much. You should see what Peaseblossom and Moth get up to. They think just because they’re among the older fairies they’ve got license to…well, never mind.”
Clover glowered at Sal and ignored his interruption. “King Oberon kind of got a reputation for his wandering ways, even though it’s part of fairy nature to have lots of sex. And Queen Titania got really pissed at the thought he might carry on doing it with someone else even after they were married. So she put a spell on his cock. He’s only allowed to do the ass mambo with other fairies. Anything else, and he can’t get it up for a month. And we fairies have very long months.”
Clover grinned appreciatively while Sal winced.
“Smart lady. I mean fairy. Or fairy Queen. Oh sheesh…” Persephone dipped her head at Sal’s urging, rinsing the shampoo from her hair.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll get used to it after a while.”
“Which brings me to another question. How long will I be here? Assuming of course that I am here and not having one hellaciously fine fantasy in my mind while my body is seriously sedated and drooling in some padded cell someplace.” She noted Clover’s detailed attention to her thighs and tingled a little as the soapy hands worked their way upward. She wriggled in the water.