@mrgoblinging7 You were generous, they were greedy. You did nothing wrong!
It took me more than a decade to learn how to keep my boundaries firm against pressure. This includes the works I make for this community.
If you think of yourself as a giving or kind person, it can take some time to develop the habit of saying no. But this fetish is a thing we all do for fun, even the generous people. There are no real obligations to produce anything. Nobody is owed a piece of art on demand.
@Jitensha woohoo! I can’t wait! I’m definitely going to be there.
@sillylilbug thanks so much for your comment! I’m so happy that you’re giving it a shot.
This one was a real departure from my short stories, since it’s so much less cruel to the tiny (most of the time.) It started as a fetishy thing and became kinda more emotional and funny than just about what I find hot. I hope you continue to enjoy it!
@olo Absolutely. That’s why I never really dove into it, even though of course all the characters would be at least 28 with the 10 year HS reunion thing.
But looking at this now, if it’s more psychological and humorous, a story that could easily be filmed at PG-13, it might work as a joke rather than a sexy thing.
@mrgoblinging7 of course you know that dang machine’s just gonna let her slip through its scammed claws. Every time! She might eventually just get sick of it and jump through the prize hole herself.
PART 2
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Bluebell knew that she had to destroy this man. She had been watching this whole sordid display from the window. How dare this human scoundrel, this bearded fuck, who's currently using her beloved wife as a magical lube bottle, blow a kiss at Lilac?
Was he mocking her, before he crushed her tiny form out of a bored sense of domination, and threw her away like a wet tissue? She could not find out. She had to stop him from cumming, before he lost interest in what he must have seen as a toy.
She was horrified, but this whole time, she didn't know how to help. She felt powerless without her patron goddess.
Persephone isn't the only one in this land, she thought to herself. She remembered her friend Hawk, whom she hunted rabbits with two summers ago. Hawk was an Artemis Fairy.
Artemis, the Goddess of the hunt. The Goddess who either killed or transformed most of the men she came across in stories. The Goddess who had once killed a hunter for the transgression of peeping on her bathing naked in the forest.
Bluebell cast a spell by evoking the Goddess with her words. She chanted Artemis's name, closing her eyes, and stated her case.
"Hunter-Killing Goddess, defender of womens' virtues. Hear my prayer. I know my wings are not grown, I know my magic is out of season. But, for my love's sake, I beg of you, give me this smaller gift: lend me just this: the speed of a hunting dog, so that I may make my move."
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Neither the hunter nor Lilac could see or hear Bluebell's chant. She was behind the glass, and anything she said was drowned out by the drum and thrum of the mismatched pairs' heartbeats and panting. The hunter stroked his dick with the fairy trapped inside his hand, up and down. He glanced down, and she was rubbing her cunt against the shaft, moaning faintly.
He let his thumb out a little, giving her a chance to try to get away if she felt the need, but she stayed, and hugged the dick tighter when the thumb moved away.
He smiled.
"Enjoy the ride," he said, as he gripped her against himself again, and resumed stroking. Her pussy's wetness felt warm and tingly against his sensitive cock skin. The feeling of her tiny, gripping body between his hand and his cock made him feel like a holy God of his own image.
He couldn't last long, after all the build-up. The hunter strained his thighs, before his balls tensed upwards, and then his dick erupted in a painfully intense spurt.
He lessened his grip on Lilac, keeping his hand next to her, and she moved herself to the bottom side of his dick, deliberately getting in the way of the stream of sticky white semen. It dripped down her head, over her shoulders, and down her backside. She had to hold her breath, there was so much of it covering her face.
Lilac shimmied up to the top of the glans, and shook her head back and forth, trying to shake the cum off her face while keeping her arms around the dick. Most of the sticky gunk stayed. The hunter, watching this, wiped if off her face with one sweep of his fingertip.
Lilac laughed. It sounded something like a cricket.
"That was fun!" she shouted, looking up at the hunter, grinning madly.
"You really are a freak," the hunter said, admiration in his voice. He was smirking as he shook his head.
"But, you can clean up, if you like. Here," he said. He lifted her up gently off his cock and put her in the bottom of the large glass jar. He sprinted to the kitchen next to the bedroom and quickly brought back a paper towel soaked in warm tap water. He gingerly put it in the bottom of the jar with her, and then closed the lid, loosely, barely using the threads.
He didn't think he would keep her in the jar for long. But he couldn't let this marvel get away just yet.
He cleaned himself up, and put his pants back on.
"I have to drive into town before the store closes. I'll be back soon, my fairy pet," the hunter said.
Lilac stopped cleaning herself off, and watched her huge captor leave. This was a fun encounter for now, but she was nobody's pet. She would figure a way out soon. If not now, then in a few weeks, after Persephone returned. Putting her still dry clothing back on, she wondered if she'd leave him alive or not. In March, she'll get back her power to magically transform his veins and arteries into flowering vines. That was always a fun way to get rid of a mortal she was done playing with.
He had a nice skull shape she could get to know better. The big human skeletons made for such handsome flower mounds after a few centuries.
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The hunter stepped outside, still dazed from the fairy's enchanted fluids. So drugged, that he doubted his eyes at first when another fairy ran right up to him, and stood firmly in the path between him and his car.
This one was dressed in darker leather, and her feathered hood was up, covering her hair and ears. Tiny, black, eyes stuck out just below the hood, staring up at him.
She seemed furious.
She took off, running past his car, to a woodchip path through the forest that he knew well. She was running as fast as a deer, which on her tiny frame, was unbelievable. Light seemed to trail after her shape as she ran, like she was leaving an after-image on his retina. He couldn't tell if that was a side effect of the fairy magic from earlier.
The hunter wondered if she tasted like the other tiny woman, or if there was variety between these creatures' miniature cunts. The errand in town could wait for tomorrow - he had to catch her.
The man ran up the path towards Bluebell, as fast as he could sprint. It went uphill, and he lost speed. He lost sight of her between the trees and dead logs next to the frozen pond at the bottom of a ridge.
The pond here had frozen and thawed, frozen and thawed over the course of this strange winter, but the last time the hunter had walked to it a week ago, a full-sized buck had run across it to the other side.
Bluebell reached the edge of the pond before the human had even made it to the top of the hill. She could tell by its coloring that the ice was perfect for this.
The fairy ran across the ice. Her knee-high shrew-leather shoes had just enough grip in their pine-sap soles for her to be able to trust each footfall. She fled as fast as the wind.
Twigs snapped, and clumsy footfalls followed. The bare winter bushes parted as the huge hunter reached the edge of the icy shore. It was getting dark, on a cloudy afternoon, so he relied on her telltale footprints across the snow-splattered ice to see where she had run to. They looked like the prints of a tiny woman's boots. He saw her, next to a frozen reed plant most of the way across the water. She was standing still, like a dark-colored bird hidden among leaves.
But she was obvious, there, her black leather outfit starkly standing against the white snow. The human and the fairy exchanged glances, and she turned around, running to the opposite shore of the pond.
It would take just a few fast steps for the hunter to catch up. Bluebell went through the reeds at the far shore, taking no chances with her distance-making.
The hunter considered the risks, still drugged as hell, and he went for it. Even though he already had one, this was not a being to let go into the night. Another delicious, ecstatic pet was worth any chase.
The man gingerly stepped onto the ice. It felt solid under his feet, and looked opaque beneath him. He stepped forward once, and then twice, planning his final pounce onto the new fairy. She was still standing still on her opposite shore, her arms crossed.
He wondered if she was mocking him. Unlike the first one he had caught, this one didn't seem afraid.
Three steps in, the ice cracked under his boot. He turned around, carefully stepping back to safety, but the surface snapped again, and gave way. With a huge splash, the hunter fell into the freezing-cold water. Pond water filled the hunter's outfit. The premium goosefeathers of his coat soaked it up like a sponge.
It had looked solid, the hunter thought, as he tried to stay above the surface. The pond was deeper than he expected, and his clothing was heavier than he was used to swimming with. The weight dragged him down. He kicked and churned, desperate to stay afloat. He tried to take his winter coat off, but taking his arms away from his desperate treading let him slip deeper beneath the surface.
Bluebell watched safely from the frozen shore as the surface of the water behind the cracked ice churned. First the hunter's hands came up, and then his head, as he got a few gasping breaths in. He began to climb up onto the ice surface, and pulled his torso above the ice. As he was lifting his first leg onto the ice, the surface cracked again, and his weight sunk it back into the water, another half-floating obstacle to the man's futile attempts at swimming.
The sun was now setting onto the half-frozen lake. A cloudy dusk cast only muted shadows on the surface of the water, as, over the course of several minutes, the churning and the bubbles died down to a full stillness.
@Olo it doesn’t matter, the point is removing them from the ground. The simplest and least weird method for this is just a yoink during a hug, with chests together, heads next to each other.
@olo Always here for a corporate giant. HR’s gonna hear about this, unless they’ve been transformed into donuts already.
@olo
I know. Not subtle!
“I know writers who use subtext, and they’re all cowards.” - Garth Merenghi
@littlest-lily yes it’s much easier to suspend disbelief when it’s audio only. I’d love it if more male performers were willing to try this! I’ve found a couple of good sound clips by a gay macro creator.
@olo this is my fav pic I’ve seen here in a while. I like how understated it is.
@olo Yes. I have all of the Photoshop skills needed to make collages. Trying desperately to find models posed the way I wanted in existing photos online stopped me from doing more than a horny handful here.
It actually made me fantasize about ponying up the money to rent a photo studio space to get some adult models shot against a white, Photoshop-friendly background.
I know still photography enough to pull that part off, even. I’d just have to rent some lights.
But I don’t have idle-adult-photographer-production money.
