by Sahara Kelly
“Well, you’ve been recruited, of course. And I must say that you took the metamorphosis very well too. You must have had quite a bit of sugar this morning. We find that humans who have plenty of sugar in their system do better at handling the change than those who don’t.”
Persephone’s brows shot up, and not just because Clover had reached her pussy with her soapy fingers. “Change? What change?”
“Why the size differentiation, dear.”
“What size differentiation?”
“Your size differentiation.”
“My size differentiation?”
Sal sighed. “Why do I feel this conversation is going nowhere? Yes, Persephone. Your size differentiation. You are now in Fairyland. What was a foot in your world is an inch in ours. You are now approximately five and a half inches tall.”
Persephone’s jaw dropped. She looked blankly around the room. “These are real bowls,” she breathed.
“Of course. We use whatever we can from your world. Cuts down on our factory production costs, and the unions appreciate the chance to stagger their work shifts rather than go flat out all the time.”
“Holy shit.”
Clover giggled as she swiped between Persephone’s legs and up over her belly. “You’ll get used to it, honey. At least the change left you with these lovelies.” She passed her hand reverently over Persephone’s gleaming breasts.
“Hoookay. I think we’re done, and Orientation is coming up. Do you feel clean?” Sal gave a last squeeze to Persephone’s hair.
“I don’t know what I feel. I’m in shock.”
“Oh come on, sweetie. You’ll do just fine. Come on now, out you come…” Sal held out a huge towel and enveloped Persephone in it as she stepped out of her bowl.
Comments about snap, crackle and pop seemed inappropriate, but Persephone couldn’t help a few random thoughts about breakfast cereals. She shook the images away as Clover began running some kind of heated comb through her hair.
Sal smoothed a lotion all over her body, taking extra care around her breasts and her back.
She couldn’t help it, she sighed as his hands massaged her glowing skin.
“Oh my, Sal, that feels soooo nice.” She smiled happily.
“Well, dear, usually we’d go a couple of steps further at this point, seeing as both Clover and I enjoy a good fuck in the bathing chamber with our clean recruits. But because you’ve already come once this morning, and with a little bit of a rub from the King’s cock, too, we’ll pass for right now.”
Persephone smiled lazily, part of her wondering why she wasn’t running screaming from the room and the other part slightly disappointed. “Can I take a raincheck rain check?”
Clover laughed. “If you want one, lovey, it’s all yours. Those,” she nodded at Persephone’s chest, “are going to haunt my dreams. I’ll be ready to play any time. Just say the word.”
“Now, Persephone, your clothes. I picked pink and white for you, and with your mahogany hair I think it was the right choice,” said Sal, bustling to and from a closet with the intense concentration of a fashion designer backstage at a fall showing.
“Brown, Sal. Brown hair. Nothing mahogany about it. But, wow…these are cool…” She held out the softest pink leather pants that Sal had placed on a chair.
“They go with this.” Clover passed her a white and pink leather halter, which barely covered her breasts and left her back naked.
She slid into the garments, amazed at how well they fit. “No underwear, I suppose…”
Two horrified expressions greeted that statement.
“Never mind. Forget I asked.”
Sal led her to a tall mirror on one wall and, with a theatrical gesture, presented her to herself.
Persephone was rendered speechless once again.
The image that met her eyes wasn’t the Persephone Jones she remembered. This woman glowed, with breasts that thrust proudly from a soft white leather bra and a body that seemed made for the low-slung pink leather pants. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a deep, rich fall of tangle-free curls. Sal stood next to her, holding a pair of dark pink boots.
“Oh. My. God.”
Sal grinned. “Amazing, isn’t it? Actually, it’s the dash of nettle in with the sunflower oil in the shampoo that does it. Yes, very nice, Persephone. Very nice indeed.”
Sal’s gaze was resting on her breasts, and Persephone noticed a bulge growing beneath his tight blue pants.
For some reason, the sight turned her on. Seriously turned her on. She had no idea why. “Sal? Are you quite sure we’re pressed for time?” She turned to him and reached out for the front of his trousers, running her hand up his fly. Clover was standing behind her. Close behind her. So close that Persephone could feel her warmth.
“I, well I don’t…” Sal’s response to Persephone’s touch was gratifying. His bulge assumed mammoth proportions.
“I mean, it’s a shame to waste all this clean recruit, and no underwear, isn’t it?” Persephone couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth, but she was driven by some uncontrollable urge. An urge to get some relief with these two darling fairies who’d bathed her and dressed her like she was a doll. She wanted to thank them. And she realized suddenly that she was horny as hell.
Wild sex seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone.
She felt, rather than saw, Sal glance at Clover.
“Well, I suppose if we don’t spend too long…” Clover grabbed Persephone’s hand and pulled her from the bathroom to an adjoining room where couches and mirrors were set up around small tables. It looked rather like the elegant foyer of an exclusive ladies room, which was probably just what it was.
Within seconds, Sal and Clover shed their clothes and undressed Persephone. She felt hands all over her and her pulse quickened at the brush of their wings and the touch of their hands on her clean flesh.
They lifted her off her feet and lowered her gently to an open backed couch, where Clover hovered near enough to reach Persephone’s breasts.
“Oh god, you can’t know how much I’ve wanted to do this,” she sighed, lowering her mouth and suckling.
Persephone’s hips jerked as Clover’s mouth made contact. Sal settled himself between Persephone’s thighs and under Clover.
Persephone realized what an amazing difference wings could make. They added a whole new dimension to sex, for a start. Clover hovered at exactly the right position to enjoy Persephone’s breasts, while Sal could reach Clover’s clit with his amazing tongue.
Meanwhile, Persephone was finding out that fairy cock was as impressive as fairy tongue, regardless of its color.
A wonderful blue cock had just knocked at the door of her cunt, and she rushed to let it in.
She widened her legs and Sal slid his cock deep into her warmth, surprising a groan of pleasure from her. She was already aroused, hot, waiting for him. This was not the way it usually was.
“Oh, Persephone,” muttered Sal, using his wings to help his rhythm as he thrust himself deep into her channel.
“Oh, Sal,” breathed Clover, around one of Persephone’s nipples.
“Oh shit,” gasped Persephone as for one brief second she wondered what in the hell she was doing, getting fucked by two fairies.
Then she felt her orgasm creeping up on her and she gave up wondering anything at all.
* * * * *
Elsewhere in the Fairyland complex, Norman Elderbranch hurried back to his office with a piece of paper in his hand.
When he’d read the list of new recruits, he’d noticed one line in particular and an idea was forming in his devious little mind.
He’d sent Cobweb out for nectar, although why she couldn’t drink coffee like everyone else he had no idea. But one lightning memory of the feel of her silky thighs under his hands, and he’d have gone and milked the flowers himself if she’d wanted him to. Gnomes forgave a lot when sex was involved.
“Yo, boss,” he said by way of greeting.
Thorne Leatherfly raised his unusual gold eyes and stared at his assistant. “What?”
Undaunted by this chilly welcome, Norman crossed the room and put the paper on Leatherfly’s desk.
“Lookee here…” His stubby finger tapped one name on the list. “I notice that in our new recruits for this month we’ve got a…what was the phrase…office—”
“—management specialist. Yeah. I see. What about it?”
“We need one.”
“Huh?”
“We need an office management specialist. Cobweb is fine, but she’s not going to run the office the way it should be run.”
Leatherfly narrowed his eyes. “If this is some devious plan of yours to get under her wings—”
Norman blushed. “Hey. I don’t need devious plans for that. It’s already underway. What I’m saying is that this office needs to be run right. I don’t have the time to handle your stuff as well as the rest of the site, and even though I’m supposed to be your assistant, you and I both know I do the coding better than anyone.”
Leatherfly adjusted his wings and put his fingertips together, watching Norman. “So my thought is, let’s grab this office management body, let Cobweb come work for me in coding, and we’ll smooth out the running of the site in next to no time.”
“Right. So you end up with Cobweb right where you want her, chained to your desk, and I get some raw newbie who can’t tell her wings from her ass, and is probably going to collapse into tears every time I walk past her.”
Norman blushed again at the vision Leatherfly’s sarcastic words had aroused. He sighed. “Yeah. That’s about it.”
“Okay. Good idea. Do it.”
Norman glanced up at his boss in surprise.
Leatherfly grinned. “What’s the problem? You’re right. We need more help. And qualified help at that. You know I spent some time checking out potential recruits and making recommendations. That was one of the areas I paid special attention to. If this recruit is listed as an office management specialist, then that’s what we’ll get. We’ll deal with the tears thing as it happens.” He sighed, and shuffled some papers. “We sure need another pair of hands.”
Norman swallowed his joy. Cobweb’s cunt seemed about twenty steps nearer all of a sudden. He allowed himself a microsecond to enjoy a little fantasy of her hovering upside down between his legs.
“Hey, Norman. Get your mind out of your crotch, damn you. When’s the new recruit coming in?”
Norman jerked himself back to reality and adjusted his pants. “Er—I think they’re in Orientation now. She should be here within the hour.”
“Cool. What’s her name, by the way? Why don’t they ever put names on this list; bloody inefficient if you ask me.” Leatherfly rustled more papers in frustration.
Norman pulled a second sheet from his pocket. “Wait, I’ve got it here…um…let’s see…” He ran his fingers down the paper. “Yep, here we are. It’s Persephone. Persephone Jones.”
Thorne Leatherfly astounded his assistant. He leapt from his chair with an oath, bashed his wings on the doorjamb and was gone before Norman could catch his breath.
Well, well. Wasn’t that interesting? With typical gnome curiosity, Norman returned to his desk and checked the recruiting recommendations list that had been posted after the last batch of scouts had returned. He knew the magic of Fairyland couldn’t be correlated with the passage of mortal time, but he figured he should be able to get a pretty good idea of when Leatherfly had been “outside.”
Yes—there it was. Two fairy years ago. And what do you know? Mr. Thorne Leatherfly had wholeheartedly recommended the acquisition of one Ms. Persephone Jones for her office management skills.
A wry grin curled Norman’s lips. He’d bet his last beard hair that Leatherfly was interested in a heck of a lot more than her typing skills.
It was mildly surprising that no one had thought to let Thorne know his personally selected recruit was now on her way. But then again, given the fact that the sun had been particularly bright for the last few days, the nectar had been running hot and sweet and the fairies imbibing freely, he supposed it shouldn’t come as much of a shock.
He raised his nose and sniffed. Cobweb was returning, her scent preceding her by a few moments. His cock stirred hungrily at the thought of her fragrance all over his hands and the rest of him as well.
He wiped the grin off his face as she delicately fluttered back into the office.
“What was that all about? Mr. Leatherfly almost knocked me over,” she whined, as she gracefully folded her wings and crossed her legs at the ankles.
“Oh, just the boss being the boss,” answered Norman, drinking in the sight of her once again. “Tell me, Cobweb.” He eased himself up to sit casually on her desk. “Do you like to wear bracelets?”
Chapter 4
“Well, that about wraps up the important issues of insurance and benefits, and so on.”
The words percolated through Persephone’s muddled brain as she fidgeted on the extremely uncomfortable chair in what looked like a conference room furnished in early Victorian torture devices.
Of course, this strange assortment of furniture was probably accounted for by the fact that an assortment of different beings were attending this Orientation session.
Persephone was one of five humans, and she could only guess at what they had been recruited for. The other two women could have been teachers, librarians or high-priced hookers. Well, probably not the latter, seeing as they both took copious notes and ignored the rest of the room.
The two guys were pretty nondescript. One had a prominent ink stain on his shirt and a pocket protector, which pretty much announced his technological tendencies to the world. The other—well, if the Bluebell Bar and Grill needed a country and western singer, this dude would fit the bill. From his trail-worn boots to his sweat-stained hat on the floor beside him, he trumpeted his western origins loud and clear. Maybe it was round-up time down on the Bumble Bee ranch and they needed help with the branding.
Persephone stifled an almost hysterical giggle and brought her attention back to the lecture. The squirrel next to her frowned as she fidgeted once more. Now there was a novel experience. She’d never had a squirrel frown at her before. Arrogant little rodent.
The Orientation was being conducted by Sugar. Sugar, it turned out was short for Sugar Plum Fairy. Although Sal had whispered that she actually had some kind of a Russian multi-syllabic name, she was known to one and all as Sugar, and she took her role very seriously. The pink tutu and the little white-feathered earmuffs left her identity in no doubt whatsoever.
Unfortunately, Sugar had the name but not much else, being built along lines that more appropriately described the Marine Corps than the Corps de Ballet. She might have been what Tchaikovsky had in mind for his creation, but she wasn’t anything like her namesake who flitted across the stage during the Bolshoi’s last production.
Sugar Plum was light years away from fairylike. And she probably should be re-thinking the whole tutu thing as well, seeing it was giving her a wedgie the size of the Grand Canyon.
Her constant wriggles and leg stretching did little to alleviate her discomfort, and Persephone felt for her as she watched her surreptitiously yank the offending fabric out of her butt for the fifteenth time. But her next words blew all thoughts of wedgies and tutus clean out of Persephone’s mind.
“Now, to close this Orientation, we must discuss the issue of wings. Unfortunately, only recruited humans are eligible, so we shall say goodbye at this point to our other new friends.”
The squirrel got up from its seat next to Persephone and glowered at her. She frowned back, restraining the temptation to tell it to go bury its nuts. It fluffed its tail in her direction.
She flipped it a mental finger.
“That’s right, please close the door.” Sugar twitched her butt as she looked at the five remaining humans.
“This is my chance to explain a few salient points to yo
u folks that don’t really apply to the other recruits.” Sugar smiled happily around the room at the rather confused faces looking back at her.
“Firstly, I expect you all wondered how you got here? Yes? Yes? I can see I’m right.”
Persephone realized Sugar would have made an excellent lounge entertainer. Any minute now she was going to ask where they were from and how long they’d been married.
“Well, you have all been chosen for your skills, of course, let me see…” Sugar referred to her notes. “We have a librarian and a junior high school teacher.” She nodded to the two rigidly composed women who managed to look proud and embarrassed at the same time. “We have a computer hardware technician who specializes in storage devices.” Mr. Inkstain blushed. “Um, then there’s a livestock consultant.”
“Yup, that’d be me, Ma’am.” Mr. Branding Iron tapped his forehead in a polite salute. Sugar tittered.
“And our office management consultant.” Persephone managed a social smile.
“Now, Fairyland needed folks with your particular skills, so our scouts checked around and selected you lucky recruits.”
“Why?” Ms. Librarian snapped out the question. “Why me?”
“And me?” barked Ms. Teacher, not to be outdone by a mere librarian.
“Our research is most thorough. We try to select recruits from those who have little to leave behind. We clearly wouldn’t take anyone who had a responsibility to their family, or who might be a valuable member of their community or their workplace.”
Persephone digested this. “So, we’re selected because we’re useless to just about everyone?”
Sugar laughed heartily at this, her cleavage shaking with her mirth.
Persephone waited, not smiling at all.
“No, no, no, my dear. You couldn’t be more wrong. You are very valuable. You have been selected as the very best at what you do, and also with the added advantage of no permanent ties to the mortal world. We’re fairies, not savages, you know.” Sugar shot a reprimanding look at Persephone. “We need your skills. We don’t take mothers from their families.”