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Malevolent Encounter

Carmilla’s blonde hair slowly bounced and swayed like serpents across her shoulders as she strode through the train cars with a sense of power and ease that intimidated most people. She looked like royalty without forbearance, an angel without responsibilities, or maybe a devil without horns.

Her clothing, although extravagant and rather cumbersome in appearance, moved in silence as she made her way past those in their seats. Some would stop to stare after her while others who were fast asleep at such a late hour would unintentionally squirm a little, as though something in their dream had changed unexpectedly.

Smoke billowed out of the steam engine as the train cut through the frigid mountain air. The amber light from the windows failed to illuminate anything beyond the cold glass.
Carmilla entered the observation car with most of its metal exterior replaced with glass so that the passengers could take in the beautiful countryside views during their trip. At such a late hour, however, there were few guests inside the observation car.

As she made her way through the car a man reached out from the shadows and grabbed her hand, “Well aren’t you just the most beautiful thing?” he asked as he tried to pull her down onto the padded seat beside him. Carmilla took a slow breath and turned towards him. He had not been able to pull her towards him and yet he did not miss a beat as he ran his tongue over his lips and padded the seat beside him.
Carmilla looked at him then. A handsome man in his late twenties, or early thirties. Dark long curly hair that looked like it had never seen the sweat of hard labor, a tailored suit that wreaked of overcompensation, and a lust in his eyes that she had seen countless times before.
She tilted her head and smiled down at him and without a word or an effort he found her sitting next to him, eyes locked on his. He could smell her perfume, almost taste it. He started to say, “My name’s Br-” but she cut him off with a finger pressed against his lips.
“It doesn’t really matter.” She whispered as she pushed his chin away softly and leaned into his neck. He could feel her breath on his flesh, and it sent shivers racing across his shoulders.
As the train curved around a bend he watched as the moon seemed to slide across the night sky, making the shadows in the observation car shift and move as if they too were alive in the moment. He closed his eyes as he felt her lips touch his neck.
Her fangs pierced deep, and a sense of euphoria flooded through him a split second before he could call out in pain and fear. A fog of acceptance took hold then and had he been able to speak at that moment he would have given away every secret he kept, he would have given her anything, even his life. And he would.

Carmilla drinks deeply and lets his blood slowly warm her own body. His heartbeat begins to slow after a few minutes and the flow begins to dissipate. She slides an arm under his knees and pulls his legs up, riding his neck as he is pulled down in his seat. The flow quickens again as the blood begins to leave his lower extremities. As his heartbeat becomes a whisper, she kisses closed the wounds and lifts her head from his neck.
The shadows in the train car are on the move again as the moon rushes across the night sky’s darkness and Carmilla catches a reflection of moonlight in someone’s eye. She looks up to see a woman of about 19 years old quickly turn away.
Carmilla takes her time lifting the man back into a normal sitting position and tilts his head over toward the window as if he were sleeping. His skin is ghostly white and already cooling to the touch, his lips blue, eyes glazed over. She doesn’t bother closing them.
Carmilla takes a moment and then rises and looks at the woman who doesn’t bother looking away this time. The moonlight reflects in her eyes as Carmilla approaches her.
The woman is clothed in a simple dress, neither rich nor poor. Her long dark hair was straightened and brushed regularly. She smells of soap and lavender as Carmilla sits softly beside her.
Carmilla expected her to ask of the man or rather of his untimely demise but instead, the lady says, “I’m sure we’ve never met but you remind me of someone. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Carmilla smiles, “Maybe it was in another life.” She offers.
“Possibly.” The lady replies as she nervously smiles in return. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you two, I’m sorry.” She lowers her head in shame.
Carmilla lifts her chin slowly and looks into her eyes, “You didn’t my dear.”
The lady lets her gaze fall back down as Carmilla releases her chin and Carmilla looks down to see the lady self-consciously rubbing a bruise on her thigh. She lets her fingertips brush over it and the memory of the dead man comes to her as she watches him sit next to the lady and try to force himself on her before a group of riders moving through the train come in and he is forced to stop. As he gets up to change seats the memory fades.
Carmilla looks at the woman and promises, “He’ll never hurt you.” As she lifts her fingertips from her thigh the woman watches as the bruise itself is no more.
She looks up at Carmilla, “How?”
“How what?” Carmilla asks mischievously.

The woman explains that she is traveling home with some restored family paintings for her father. Her father had made her promise not to leave her sleeping cabin, but she just wanted to see the moon and the stars. She would pause occasionally, to look over at the man in the shadows, and after a while Carmilla finally told her, “He’s dead, love.”

Instead of the expected expression of fear, the woman looked at Carmilla with curious eyes and Carmilla told her they really should go back to her cabin as they didn’t want to be here when someone found him and the questions that would come with that discovery.
She led the way and Carmilla could almost imagine her body beneath the dress. The way it would move, how beautiful it must be. She had to refrain from using a sharpened fingernail to cut a shoulder strap as she walked behind her.

The rumbling of the train masked the sound of thunder in the distance as clouds swept across the night sky, obscuring the moon and stars.
Inside the cabin, the woman lit some candles, and they sat together on the bench that folded out into a bed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to offer in the way of drink or food. I wasn’t expecting guests to be honest.” The woman says to break the silence.

Carmilla smiled, “Your company is more than enough. Would you help me with this?” she asked as she turned and offered her back to the woman, “It’s really uncomfortable.”
The woman lifted some of the ruffles of Carmilla’s outfit to find buckles and buttons. With Carmilla directing her she helped her out of the most bothersome portions of her dress. Carmilla sighed in relief as she stretched in her silk undergarments. She smiled as she watched the woman’s gaze linger over her body.

The cabin wasn’t as cold as the frigid night outside, but it was still cool, and she felt her nipples harden as she lowered her arms and the hem of her top slipped down off her exposed hip and covered her again. She pretended not to notice the woman staring and asked if she would like to change into something more comfortable.
“I don’t really have anything.” The woman replied.

“You don’t really need anything.” Carmilla teased as she reached around the woman, pushing her hair out of the way and slowly lowering the zipper on the back of her dress.
The woman’s breath caught in her throat momentarily as Carmilla’s hand brushed against her neck, but she didn’t try to pull away or even turn from her. Instead, her eyes opened a little wider as they found Carmilla’s gaze, her lips trembling.
Carmilla started to lean in and whispered, “Kiss me.”

Their lips met, and a touch of timid tenderness was exchanged. “Again” Carmilla whispered, and the woman kissed her. Lips slowly parting, tongues teasing. Carmilla held the woman’s cheek in her palm and let her eyes fall shut. When she opened them again, she found the woman’s eyes locked on hers still.
She smiled gently and said, “Breathe, love. This isn’t a test.”

The woman let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and kissed Carmilla then, letting her lust lead the way. There was a hunger in her touch as her hands explored Carmilla’s shoulders and neck, followed closely by her lips. The woman didn’t know it but at one point she was positioned over Carmilla’s artery and Carmilla smiled in the candlelight as she imagined what it would feel like to receive that first bite again. How she would melt under this woman’s spell if somehow, she had fangs to sink into Carmilla’s vulnerable human skin.

Carmilla could feel the heat from the woman’s hand as she caressed her breast through the silk top. She was kissing around her collarbone, clearly wanting to go lower so Camilla pulled away just long enough to lift her top over her head and discard it to the floor. Her breasts were as pale as the rest of her, but the candlelight and recent feeding gave them a tinge of color. The chill in the air was quickly overshadowed by the heat of the woman’s mouth. She sucked and kissed them, moaning and caressing as she explored Carmilla in ways she had only fantasized about late at night, alone with her thoughts and curiosities.

Carmilla ran a hand up the back of the woman’s neck and once she had a firm handful of her hair she lifted her softly back up to her eye line and said, “My turn.”
The woman’s eyes lit up with desire and she tried to reach behind her to unzip her dress the rest of the way but with a firm palm to her chest, Carmilla gently pushed her backward until her back was against the bench seat. The woman barely had time to get her arms out from under her before Carmilla laid her down and kissed her. The woman wrapped her arms around Carmilla and pulled her close. Carmilla kissed down the side of her cheek and found her neck. She could not only feel her pulse beating rapidly but she could hear it, it taunted her, begged her. She resisted the urge but let her fangs slice gently across the woman’s skin, licking the little bit of blood and sealing the wounds as she moved back up and over them with her tongue.

Carmilla ran a hand up and down the woman’s thigh, just barely going above the knee before moving back down. The moans of consent were heavy in the air and Carmilla tested her nails against her skin. Softly pushing them against her flesh but not hard enough to draw blood. “Yes.” She whimpered and Carmilla dragged them up the inside of her thigh, higher than before. The woman squirmed in pleasure. She did it again, this time going all the way up the woman’s inner thigh. She wasn’t wearing any undergarments and before she could writhe her way onto Carmilla’s hand she ran them back down her thigh.
“Please.” The woman begged and Carmilla slowly ran her fingers up her thigh, higher, until they met the wet soft folds of her, and the woman let out a moan that rivaled the thunder that was drawing closer and closer with each minute that passed.

Carmilla ran her fingers through her pubic hair and over her womanhood, gently exploring and teasing. She let a finger slide just inside and open her outer labia as her mouth found the inside of the woman’s thigh. She let her breath be felt on her as she kissed across the groin. The woman writhed and pushed down and Carmilla could taste her then on her lips. She found her clit throbbing and waiting and took it into her mouth, being careful of her fangs. As the woman rocked back and forth, lost in an ocean of moans and gasps Carmilla would have to use her tongue to tease her clit as her fingers splayed and rubbed against her. She was cautious not to let a finger enter her as she feared her nails would do more harm than good.

Even though the woman was in a way under Carmilla she still seemed to ride Carmilla, pulling her in, keeping her close, as if she wanted her inside of her completely.
Carmilla, lost in the moment as well, found herself licking and kissing the very inside her the woman’s thigh. The blood in the deep external pudendal artery smelled like wine and strawberries and before she could stop herself Carmilla sank her fangs deep into the woman’s thigh as she grabbed the front of her dress and pulled down. The straps that held the dress on the woman’s shoulders quickly tore away and exposed her breasts. They swayed with the movement before coming to rest as the woman was lost in the euphoria of Carmilla.

“I remember you. From my dream.” The woman managed to whisper. Carmilla caught a glimpse of the memories she had stolen long ago as the woman started to remember.
Carmilla stopped and rose to meet the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Laura.” She said before sinking her fangs into the woman’s breast.

A single tear formed in the corner of the woman’s eye and slid down her cheek as her mind clouded over in a fog and she drifted off to sleep.

In a dream, Laura heard a voice that said, “Your mother warns you to beware of the assassin.” Before a thunder crash woke her and she bolted upright in bed. As the lightning strike bathed the room in light, she thought she saw a woman standing at the foot of the bed, drenched in blood. When she blinked and wiped her eyes, there was nobody there.

She couldn’t quite remember coming back to her room. The last thing she remembered was going to the observation car to look at the moon.

Laura heard something in the corner of the room move. She clutched the bed sheets to her chest and stared hard into the dark corner of the room. Lightning cracked across the heavens outside the train window, and she caught the reflected eyes of a cat staring at her. As the light died away, she thought she could still see the eyes glowing as thunder cracked and rumbled like an omen across the world outside as well as in.

Alarm clocks and the monsters they wake

Sometimes, in the dark, I pretend you’re still here. I might whisper your name into the sheets, or run my palm over the curve of a pillow.

I miss your kisses. All of them. From the nervous little peck that left your cheeks red and tingly, to the messy ones so full of need and desire it floods the mood like a tidal surge.

I miss the snuggles and the cuddles. The back hugs that made me smile, and the way you would tilt your head towards mine as you laid your hand on mine when I held you from behind.

I miss the way you would flirt. The teasing changed depending on who was around. From playful, to sneaky, to just a little bit shocking. It created currents of excitement and wonder. And gave a little hope and fuel to a dying flame that was my heart

I miss the way you would touch me. The way you would slip your hand into mine and give it a squeeze, or hook your arm around mine and march through life at my side. Your touch, made me feel wanted. Something no amount of words can ever come close to doing.

But those things are all gone now. Only the memories remain to remind me of what can never be.

Sometimes I start to dream again, start to wonder… But then you laugh in the darkness and I know that sound, I know what it means.
It’s the death of hope and the end of dreams.

Death towered over him, face hidden by a hood made of shadows, the curved aged wooden handle of the scythe holding the wicked metal blade that absorbed the moonlight high above them. “Why didn’t you reach out for help? It isn’t your time.”

With confusion on his face, blood soaking into every wrinkle upon his hands, and tears in his eyes he replied, “Because I was afraid the only person who cared enough to help wouldn’t see the message until it was too late and blame themselves for the rest of their life.”

As Death sat next to him on the floor a tear fell from somewhere under the hood. “There’s too many of you here.”

You said you love to dream, especially when they’re in color but all I can remember is dreaming in the blackest of braille and how I screamed as my fingers left the little smooth bumps and touched her fangs, how my hands trembled as I explored her twisting smile, and how piercing the pain when her claws sank deep into my back.

I don’t know your dreams. I wish I could.

The Moonlit Maze

She smiled casually and told me not to worry, that we are dreaming, and all answers can be found within the dream.

As her fingers slipped from my grasp I held back the desire to call out for her to be careful as she walked into the forest. For I’ve been in dreams before, and I know that while you may find the answers you seek, the hardest part is finding your way back to the place where that knowledge is needed.

You see, the dream is a world that collects its toll only while you are within it. It will give up its secrets, but then spin you off into another puzzle as it works to keep you trapped deep inside and distracted.

It’s the reason I’ve slept for seven days, and although I’ve awakened screaming a dozen times, I’m still very much trapped in here, but I am learning the game, I am figuring out how to free myself.

Look there, that building looks inviting. Wait, wasn’t there someone I was with? Never mind, let’s go see what is inside.

In A Blink

I met her in the strangest of ways, the beauty of my world. She found me nestled upon shattered safety glass and smoke, twisted steel, and spilled gasoline. Her touch was like an angel as it removed every ounce of fear from me. The confusion that had surrounded me like a fog was whisked away by her refreshing winds as I started to recall the headlights a moment before. My love did not think I needed to remember that though and she kissed me then. Oh, how those lips can remedy the worst the world has to give.

When she pulled back from the kiss, I opened my eyes and asked her name. She replied, “The next step in life is death, now take my hand and walk with me.”

I remember feeling like I was floating as I left behind the wreckage on the interstate, I could almost hear other people shouting far off in the distance, but I was so absolutely in love with her then. As the other voices drifted deeper into my past her name whispered itself into my mind. She was Death, and she was beautiful.

Trinkets

He couldn’t stop shifting his gaze from her eyes to her necklace. “I don’t understand witchcraft stuff but you are amazing,” he whispered.

“Maybe you’re under a spell,” she teased.

“Is that what that’s for?” he asked, pointing at the strange face with fangs and a protruding tongue that hung from a chain around her neck.

She wrapped her hand around it as she laughed, “This? I was hoping you were looking at me this whole time.”

He just slowly shook his head as he stared at it, trying to figure out if it was something he had seen before.

“It’s the Gorgon, it’s supposed to protect from evil,” she offered.

He finally looked up and met her gaze, “I would never hurt you,” he promised sincerely.

She smiled as she let her gaze drift off behind him, “I don’t wear it to protect me, I wear it to protect others.”

“Others?” He asked cautiously.

“Yes,” she replied, “cause the moment you showed interest my demons all started asking me if it was, ‘time to play’.”

Thalia and Melpomene

Why does it always feel like playing pretend? With masks and makeup painted over the frowns, voices lowered and raised in the hopes of fulfilling a fantasy for the viewer in the corner.
Why am I so scared of being me?
Why can’t I let go of the anxiety?
Why is fear the only one that rises to the surface in a sea of emotions?
How many times must the masks be glued back together before they are just little granules of sand in a forgotten time?
At least once more.
For you, the viewer in the corner.

Beneath the Paddle (A First)

When I first signed up for a Fet account, I couldn’t click the “Dominant” label fast enough. I was a cis-gendered straight man, there were no other options!

I was an idiot.

After a lot of unlearning, self-exploring, and debates with myself (sometimes in public), I came to the realization that I am and have always been a switch. The percentages are still a little murky and ever-shifting but that’s fine, there is absolutely no need to nail anything down permanently in this lifestyle except for crosses, consent, and maybe some other BDSM furniture.

This is my first experience from the bottom of the slash.

Negotiations had been finalized, times and paddles chosen, this was basically just going to be a little tasting. I had zero expectations of experiencing an actual scene or finding a submissive headspace. I was just going to let a friend spank me a little to see how we both liked it.

I’m still an idiot.

The dungeon was dark as we stepped up to the St. Andrews Cross and I looked down at the little side table at the paddles that lay across it. Domina looks at me and nods, “Are you ready?”

I think I nodded confidently and took off my shirt as I stepped up to the cross but in my head was a nervous buzz that drowned out everyone and anything around me. I wasn’t nervous about the paddles or my partner, I was absolutely fucking terrified of whoever might be watching. I wanted to do this right, I wanted to be a good bottom, I needed to not fuck this up!

Her nails softly found my back as I was trying to figure out where a good bottom puts their hands, holds their head, arms at the side, or wrapped around the cross? What the fuck am I supposed to do?! The nervousness slipped a little as her nails moved over my skin, raising goose bumps that raced around my back as I let out a breath that might have been held in too long.

She artfully used her nails to relax my mind as well as my body and my shoulders moved under her touch. A piece of my thoughts waited for the loud thwack of a paddle. Why would the first one be the hardest? Cause clearly I have issues, but we’re not here for that.

Instead, the paddle found me lightly, carefully, as if to say, “Hello, I’m here. Can you come out and play?”
For a second my thoughts flashed to, “Is this as hard as she is going to go? Everyone’s going to laugh!” Now clearly, I should not give a fuck about anyone else’s ability to take pain as a bottom. This is like BDSM 101, err, maybe 102, but that thought was still there for a second. I was still so worried about what others would think that I wasn’t even there for my own scene.

She slowly increased the force of the blows as the paddle gracefully moved around my ass. At some point, my toes started to curl as my body swayed gently back and forth.

Then came the thwack!

Someone in the audience let out an audible start of some kind as I closed my eyes and let the air hiss from my lips. Yes!
Her nails found my back again as she leaned forward to check in on me after a couple of seconds. I confirmed that I was fine and was willing to continue.

Somewhere off to my right, I could hear someone moaning as their own scene unfolded.
I used those moans in my own scene. In my head, I somehow managed to intertwine them with my own experience even though the scenes were completely separate and even now, I have no idea who was there or what they were doing. But thank you if it was you, ’cause that was cool.

Another check-in from Domina and her glorious nails, another vocal reply.
The nails left and the paddle returned. With each set becoming more intense. She would check in, and I would respond.

A couple of times my brain would think back to the dungeon I was in and the hits would be almost too much and I would be just on the brink as Domina would stop and check-in.
I wanted to give a high number but as her voice calmed me I realized, we weren’t really at a high number, I was just starting to get nervous again. “We can go more”, I said. Or something to that extent.

With each set of paddling something else began to happen. I was less and less concerned with whoever may be watching. The harder the hits, the more I had to concentrate on myself.

Thwack! Relax clenched muscles… Thwack! Breathe… Thwack! Keep my knees bent… Thwack! Breathe!

More check-ins, more nods, and more spanking!

I could no longer hear the moaning beside me but my own internalized growl within me as I took each hit and forced myself to remember the release, to embrace it. I want it!

My brain flipped a switch, one that doesn’t often get flipped these days. The one that used to get flipped when I was young and scared. When I was alone with a lighter. When all I wanted was a little high from the pain, here it is, once again, endorphins!

The nails dug in deeper as they moved across my back and I had to fight back a verbal challenge to go deeper, harder.

She began to dig the paddle in and twist it. I took it as a challenge and pushed back against it. More thwacks, more challenges. At this point, there wasn’t a single person in the world except us.

More check-ins, more thwacks. At one point I remember thinking to myself, “Stop with the fucking check-ins already!” but as we have covered, I am an idiot and she did phenomenal as this was our first scene together and my first time as a bottom, ever.

This went on for a good “three minutes” before she asked me where I was and I managed to ask how long it had been. Clearly no more than ten minutes, right? It had been 45 minutes.

I waved the white flag and asked for a cool down. As soon as I did that my body was like, “Cool, so we done? Peace out.” and left me alone with a woman and her paddles who wasn’t quite, “done done”.

She leaned in and said in the softest most horrifying voice ever, “These will be the last four, okay?”
Wait, what?
Thwack!!
Holy fuck! I clenched my teeth together and hugged the cross tight trying not to scream.
I told my brain to ready my body, go back to where we were in my mind, raise the endorphins, call the Marines, whatever the fuck it needs to do!
“That was one. Actually no, it doesn’t count unless you count them out loud. That was zero.” This demon behind me said about as nonchalantly as you might mention a boring-ass re-run you watched seven years ago on network TV.
Thwack! “One,” I managed to whimper. I could hear her smile as she asked, “What was that?”
“One!”
Thwack!
“Two!”
Thwack!
“Three?”
Thwack!
“FOUR!” I managed to cry out a little shakily.
“Good,” she said as she placed her hand on my back and checked in one last time. I think?
I honestly have no clue what happened right then but I know she asked if I wanted to sit on the couch for aftercare. I remember saying no like it wasn’t at all needed as I looked at the couch but I realize that I didn’t actually see the couch or anything for that matter. I was barstool drunk.

That drunk where you feel like you’re just a little buzzed until you stand up and the world shifts its rotation. Yea, that was me.

I said clearly and soberly, “Do you want me to wipe down the cross?” as she looked at me a little strangely, “Do you feel like you can?” I nodded confidently and got to work.

Thinking about it a week later, I realize she was probably asking cause I was clearly in the headspace and had no idea I was. She fed me a bottle of water at some point in this interaction as well and I remember wiping down the cross and feeling like I did such a good job, even remembering to wipe the edges and the areas other people miss.

I turned to stroll out of the dungeon alone. Confident, and with all of my wits about me. Later I would learn that she pretty much walked behind me with her arms out ready to catch me until I managed to find friends outside of the dungeon who nodded to watch me as she went back in to pack up the equipment.

It wasn’t until I noticed the lights had a haze about them the same way they used to after swimming in chlorine swimming pools for seven hours as a kid and my chest felt different that I realized I wasn’t actually sober at all. But I was with people who would keep me safe, and they did.

I spent the rest of the night smiling and happy, something that doesn’t happen too much these days and for that, thank you, Domina, A.K.A. “Bratress”. Let’s do it again!

Munchkn Lost

Munchkn woke in a strange place. The light smoke that filled the room played tricks on his mind as he tried to shake away the fogginess of sleep and look around. The room was lit by lantern, it looked a lot like what he imagined a cabin in the woods to look like. An old wooden rocking chair, wood tables with a mix of bowls and jars on them, even the bed he was lying on felt like it was full of straw or grass. He lifted a hand to try to rub his eyes but found it was tied down, both his hands were tied, as well as his ankles.
A feminine voice beside him startled him, “Well, look who finally decided to wake up.” It said.
He turned his head to see a woman in a brown robe with jet black hair standing beside the bed. She was turned away from him but looking back over her shoulder as she plucked some dried flowers off a string that hung from the ceiling.
In fact, they hung everywhere with all kinds of different vegetation hanging from them to dry.
“Who are you? Where am I?” he asked.
She turned with a smile that seemed genuine enough but for some reason, Munchkn imagined it looked a little like the grin of a hyena. As she turned, he could see that her robe was not closed in the front. Her body was lean and taught, the skin was perfection as it ran from thigh to hips, the light from the lantern hid parts but he could see one full breast and he took a quick breath before looking back up to her eyes.
She was staring back at him, having watched his gaze travel the length of her slightly revealed body.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
His mouth went dry as she started to open it completely. She was perfect, in every single way. She lifted it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. A swirl of dust kicked up and mixed with the incense in the air as she sat beside him and placed the dried flower on his bare chest.
Am I naked?! He asked himself before looking down and seeing that he was only shirtless. His pants still covered him from the waist down.
He looked back to the woman who was slowly letting her fingertips trail down his chest, “What’s going on? Is this a dream?”
“Something like that.” She replied.
A storm off in the distance let loose a cascade of lightning which flashed through the cabin and in that instant Munchkn watched as the beautiful woman was transformed into something else, something terrible. Her body looked bloated and rotting. He thought he saw deep bruises or dark spots and for half a heartbeat he could smell something horrible in the air. He froze for a couple seconds until the sound of thunder shook him back to reality. Her face was beautiful again, but she could see something had changed in him.
“Don’t be frightened, light can play tricks on the eyes.” She tried to reassure him as her fingers found the button on his jeans.
A second flash of lightning came, and he saw her change once again before the lantern took over and made her look beautiful.
Munchkn jerked away and felt the corner of the bed rise. He realized he was much stronger than she was, than her restraints were, and pulled harder until the restraints started to break apart. As he scrambled away from her, he struggled with the restraints around his ankles as she stood and sighed heavily.
She walked over to a table and lifted a jar and felt to see how full it was. Whispering something Munckn couldn’t make out she flung the contents at him. Munchkn let go of the restraints and tried to block it, but nothing hit him. Nothing ever seemed to come out of the jar except a little bit of smoke.
Suddenly Munchkn felt lightheaded, and the room began to spin. He looked up to see her walk naked across the cabin and pull curtains closed over the windows. He thought he heard a chorus of distant whines and sighs as she said, “No show tonight.”
Munchkn started to ask who she was talking to, but the words never came as his vision swam in and out of focus. The room seemed to be getting larger. Everything seemed to be getting larger. Everything except him.
The restraints fell away and as he pulled his ankles free, his pants also seemed to be outgrowing him. He scrambled backward on the bed and watched as the edges of the bed seemed to race away from him.
Munchkn shook his head as she came walking toward him, “What’s happening?” he asked but she just kept walking. Each step she took made her perfect breasts bounce and her hips sway.
“You’ll need to speak up now dear, you’re getting too small to hear easily.” She replied.
He couldn’t believe how big she was. She towered over him like a giant. Her legs were the size of some of the biggest trees he had ever seen in his life. His gaze traveled up as his mind scrambled to make sense of it all. He could see the goosebumps on her legs, he could see the perfect mounds of her labia, the tuft of pubic hair, her flat stomach, and how her breasts hung like mountains above. This has to be a dream. He thought.
She raised a hand over him with something pinched between her thumb and finger. As she sprinkled something over him, he thought he could make out the smell of something like wet grass. Her hand came down and scooped him up. He could lie in the palm of her hand!
“I might have gotten a bit carried away, but we can fix that later.” She said as she brought him to eye level. Her mouth opened and he pressed himself back against her palm as she brought him to her mouth. He thought for a moment that she was going to eat him until her tongue came out and licked the front of his whole body from toes to nose, all in one giant, slow, exhilarating lick that lasted just long enough to make him hard and forget about anything else that had ever happened.
She looked at him and smiled as she brought him back up to eye level. “Now what are you going to do with that?” she asked him.
Munchkn wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted so badly to feel her moist tongue against his body again. He wanted to push against it and feel himself slide against it.
She held him as she sat on the bed, watching him. “Why don’t you play with it?” she asked as she kicked her legs up on the bed and proceeded to lie on her back with her head propped against the pillows.
She placed him down gently on her breast so she could watch him. He reached down and felt himself in his hand. He wanted to, he needed to find release. He knelt on her breast and with one hand he grabbed her nipple. “Yes!” she said.
Munchkn felt her shift as her hands moved down her body. He turned to see what she was doing and saw her fingers run through her pubic hair and down between her legs.
“Hey!” she said, a sternness to her voice, “I want to watch you.”
Munchkn turned back around and showed himself to her. He sat back on his heels to show her everything as he stroked himself.
She brought her fingers up to her breast and he could see they glistened with her wetness, he could smell her, and it drove him crazy with lust. She gently stroked him one time with a fingertip and asked him if that would help. He nodded and spread her cum all over his cock as her hands found their way back between her legs.
They played for each other for a while that way until she began to move a bit much and Munchkn was starting to slide around her breast. He tried to steady himself with her nipple but that almost got him thrown off as she gasped. She had almost seemed to forget about him at one point as her head had pushed away from the pillows and she was staring up at the ceiling of the cabin. Munchkn slid down the top of her breast and landed at her throat. Her neck smelled like roses, and he kissed her neck.
She took him gently in cum covered fingers and placed him on her side turned cheek as she sucked her own cum from her fingertips and made sure to run it across her lips before she pushed him up to her lips as she faced the ceiling. He squirmed against her lips begging for her tongue, but she kept her lips shut tight.
All he could do was writhe against them and lick at her cum. Her moans vibrated his whole body as she refused to open her mouth and he gave in to just riding those moans and her lips to completion.
She picked him up once just long enough to say, “Tell me before you cum!” and placed him back down.
Her whole body was moving now as her fingers knew where to go.
Munchkn felt it start to build and as he began to tell her she opened her mouth and let him fall in. It was so sudden that his body reacted by throwing his arms out and catching himself. Only his lower half fell into her mouth, and she gently closed her lips around him as her tongue found the front of him.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed as her moans now shook his whole body as she tried not to bite him in two.
It only took a minute before he felt the pressure building up again and he told her, “I’m gonna cum.”
Her body shook furiously as he emptied himself against her tongue. Her tongue moved under him, and he felt her swallow.
She turned her head and opened her mouth moaning as he slid down onto the bed. He pushed himself until he was at eye level with her, and they stared at each other until she came.
She offered him a taste from her fingertips, and he gladly accepted.
After they lay there for a few moments Munchkn asked her, “Are you a witch?”
She lie silent for a long time then carefully replied, “The Fey have many names.”