"So how is it supposed to work?"
"Well, from what I've read, it's like a fight or flight response. Just flight, I guess, in their case. So, you gotta get them kinda upset. Enough to want to fly."
Soft blues and purples played on the women's naked curves, emanating from the glass jars on the nightstand. The colors danced and swirled, flickering to the movement inside the glass. Moonlight was creeping in through the window, only slightly brighter than the iridescent jars. Isabelle was confident and sultry, laying on her side while she admired how the light danced on Heather’s pale skin. Heather leaned back to meet Isabelle’s gaze.
"How?" Heather whispered, their noses almost touching.
"It's easy, and they're especially strong when you first snip them. Yours will be great for at least around a month. Maybe longer." Isabelle traced her hand idly down Heather’s shoulder, enjoying the goosebumps she could so easily elicit.
"But if we take the lid off, won't she just fly away?" Heather turned to look at the jars.
"No, that's the thing. They literally can't fly. It's the glass or something."
A faint tapping and muffled shouts were barely audible from one of the jars. The purple hue was much more vibrant and flickered incessantly. Both women looked greedily at each other, then at the jars. Heather was flushed, and Isabelle was breathing heavily.
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"A thousand terrors! Hate! Bile! A plague of sickness!"
"It's no use. I'm- I'm so sorry."
"You call yourself fae?! You make me sick! What, you're some kind of slave, then? Comfortable in your cage with your clipped wings?" The fairy spat as she turned a bright violet.
"You don't understand..." The other fairy’s voice was low and detached.
"They don't understand. Capture me on a full moon... Savages!!"
The incensed creature banged her fists and fluttered her wings inside the jar. Her colors, vibrant and wild, nearly drowned out the melancholy blue coming from the other woman. The azure fairy sat quietly, facing away from the bed where their captors lay. Two gnarled grey stumps protruded from her shoulder blades. The blue light from her body seemed like a candle in a strong wind.
“They will pay! Their ancestors will weep! I will see them grovel!” The fairy in purple snarled as waves of magenta and amethyst strobed from her body and wings.
She continued to shout obscenities. One of the humans on the bed reached for them. Her enormous blushing face was soft and kind, and her brown curls cascaded down to her shoulders. The purple fairy’s obscenities increased in speed and volume while the blue one began to cry. Shades of dark midnight crept from her in slow waves.
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“So, will you help me? Sorry, I guess I’m kinda nervous.”
“Of course, hun. You hold her tight, and I’ll grab the clippers. Not too tight, OK?”
The two jars were deposited on the bed between the women. The shouts from within were almost audible, and Heather giggled at the silly noises.
“What’s a pestilence?” Heather snorted.
“I dunno. You ready? She’s gonna be feisty.” Isabelle brandished a pair of shears and winked.
“Yeah. Oh wait. Ok.” Heather adjusted her hands and tugged on the cork lid.
As soon as the lid was removed, the purple creature bellowed as if from a hurricane. Purple wings erupted into a flurry of buzzing, but the air around her was stale. The creature did not move. Just two short words of dissent escaped the creature before soft fingers pinched tight. The creature was lifted from the jar without ceremony, too squished to scream.
“Hold her still.”
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“A pestilence upon you and your kin! I curse your health and offspring! You will live to see your dreams rot and your hopes wilt! I will watch you beg for-”
The jar opened, and the tiny fairy turned fuchsia as her wings beat like a grasshopper. She hovered in place, her wild eyes fixed upon the human’s hand above as she prepared to fly, but she could not. She was powerless.
“Don’t you-” She was cut off as the fingers poured in from above, strangling the air from her body and jerking her upwards. The fairy struggled in a mass of warm skin. Each finger was thicker than her trunk. She struggled, but it was no use. Her limbs were gathered, one by one, until she could not move at all. Her arms and legs were pinched in different directions, seemingly from everywhere at once. The smell of lavender was all around her, but it was all wrong. It was artificial and alien. It made her sick, but she could not heave.
The fairy’s eyes went wide in shock as she saw the implement. A wicked pair of blades, the slender iron riveted in the middle. The plum-colored stains on the edges could only mean one thing: Fey blood. The fairy began to shake wildly, straining against the unyielding flesh. She tried to shout to stop, to beg for her wings. It dawned on her that these humans were not after her magic at all.
The other human grabbed her wings. Her gorgeous wings. She bucked and whimpered, managing to gather some air into her lungs to shout. She wanted to take back every curse, offer any number of wishes, or even offer her true name to these twisted humans. How did these humans even know of the Fae, much less of the powers contained within glass and iron?
The fear in her heart was nothing compared to the chill of the cold iron. Her magic wavered, the glow faltering as the blades slid along her back. One moved along her hips as the other gently brushed her shoulder. Humans were so careful in their cruelty. Her wings froze, unable to continue their frantic dance in the presence of the hellish metal.
“See? They calm down right before you do it.”
The fairy started to scream before it happened. Her teeth gnawed uselessly against the human’s sickly-sweet flesh. To take a fairy’s wings was to remove their identity. Her haunting cry creached a crescendo as the blades set in place. The human lifted her wings with the metal, prying them away from her forever.
snip
Mind-shattering pain. The shears were not sharp, crushing more than tearing. Gasping and shrieking, the fairy sputtered into a hundred shades of pink. She could feel the iron tear through her, the icy cold penetrating deep into her core. She hoped the poisonous metal would reach her heart, but no such relief came.
The sickening act was mercifully short. With a slight tug, her ruined flight limbs came away with a gooey snap. Her soul turned cold as she became flightless, no better than the humans who had mutilated her. She clung to the hope that this was some ancient pact. She knew of fairies trading wings with humans of old. Apparently their wings were a powerful reagent, and humans were powerful allies. That was a thousand years ago, a distant memory for the ruined fairy flickering in violet. What boon could these creatures want that would demand such brutal treatment? The fairy convulsed and gagged, her tears making the human’s skin slick. Her crumpled wings dripped dark purple essence, and a few warm gobs landed on her back as the metal jaws carried them away.
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“Ew! It’s kinda gross. Messy, too. I didn’t think she’d scream that much, either.” Heather turned the fairy over to her eyes, the little thing was panting. The fairy’s bruised and torn nubs were twitching, occasionally spurting strange fluid onto the creature’s back.
“That’s part of it,” Isabelle assured, “and it’s not bad, actually. It will wash out of your sheets, don’t worry. Watch this.” The smiling human pulled one of the wings free, tearing the delicate material as she separated it from the shears. Little purple dots were dripping from the thicker part where she’d cut them.
Isabelle held the wing over her mouth and stretched her tongue, allowing some of the purple fluid to drop onto her tongue. The splattering fairy ichor mixed with her saliva and rapidly oscillated between pink and blue. Isabelle’s lips closed around the base of the wing, and her cheeks flexed. The gossamer wing twitched as the rest of the fluid was sucked dry, purple draining down the veins and into the human’s gullet. She licked her lips, a trace of irisescance giving her a rave-girl lipgloss look. The colors shimmered in the moonlight, and she swallowed.
“Woah.”
“Yeah. Lay back.” Isabelle brandished the other wing.
Heather nodded, her eyes begging for Isabelle’s approval. Heather laid back, clutching her new prize to her chest. The little fairy did not seem to complain, resting for a moment between the human’s breasts. Her lazy fingers loosened as she relaxed. Heather opened her mouth, her tongue rolled out as she began to huff. Isabelle allowed several purple drops to land around her lover’s neck and chin, painting her in scintillating hues. She giggled, denying her lover’s eager tongue as she dripped the wing onto her lips. Heather looked like she’d had a messy five-jelly sandwich. Heather moaned in desperation, her tongue darting to catch the fairy's lifeblood and lap it from her lips.
“Good girl.” Isabelle cooed, “Now suck.”
Heather did as she was told, her head lifting just a little to meet her lover’s fingers. Isabelle traced the ruined stub across Heather’s lips in one final tease, forcing Heather to follow her movements as she sputtered and moaned. She finally latched on to the end of the wing, her messy lips suckling greedily. Isabelle clutched the back of Heather’s head, sliding her fingers through the curls. Heather’s eyes rolled back as Isabelle cradled her. The fairy juices emptied into Heather’s mouth, and her moans became wet.
“Open,” Isabelle commanded with a soft lilt.
Heather complied, revealing a small pool of colors almost indescribable. Her mouth was alive with light and color. Vibrant pinks and purples swirled in the back of Heather’s throat, her saliva forming a thick slurry of rapidly changing brilliance. Heather’s eyes were wide with desire and anticipation.
“Hold it. Not yet.” Isabelle instructed. Heather began to squirm, dutifully holding her mouth open without swallowing as Isabelle’s fingers closed her chest, wrapping around her hand. Nasal moans gurgled from the colorful pool, slowly changing to pink as if to match her throat. Isabelle tugged at Heather’s fingers, loosening the grip on the maimed fairy. The blue one still in the jar did not stir. She faced the other way and shuddered.
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“Please… Please….” The fairy sputtered, gasping through the pain. She wasn’t sure what she was asking. The human with the shorter hair sucked on her wing like some common treat, and all she could do was ask please.
This was no apothecary. No druidry or alchemy. Her wings could brew a potion to save a species or doom one. The power contained within was unfathomable to them. They were no sorcerors. No grand plot. Her magic was gulped down for little more than amusement. The disgusting human interior rendered the properties inert. The panicked fairy tried to call on her magic, to draw it back from the gullet of the beast. She could feel her magic dissolving already, the human claiming it for no other reason than she could. The fairy tried to find some kindness in her captor’s eyes, some shred of mercy. She saw only love, but not for the fae. Their perverse love was only for each other. She tugged on her magic again, but it was trapped. She could feel herself squirming in the belly of the smiling monster.
The fairy disassociated, allowing herself to grieve the magic lost to the human. She felt the human’s oppressive heat and lust. She hoped her essence would poison the woman, but she could already feel the magic burn. Her fairyhood was taken from her, and it was spasming while it dissolved. She could do nothing but wait for it to die.
Soft flesh pressed in again from all sides. The human moved her between the mounds of flesh; the breasts of her captor rose up on either side. The giant fingers relaxed as the woman started to experience greater waves of lust. The fairy could almost taste the human’s sexual need. It sent shivers down her spine, and her wing fluttered in fear. Not her wings. Her bloody stumps. The fairy tried to escape, crawling out from under her captor’s warmth. The lavender scent was oppressive. Humans had found a way to ruin everything, including flowers. Her skin began to crawl, she felt wet and hot. What were they doing to her magic?
The fairy managed to edge herself out from the fingers, leaving a purple trail in her wake. She looked up at the women who would so flippantly dispose of fairy magic. She froze. Fae light emanated from above the woman’s chin, illuminating the features of the one who tore her wings. The colors were desperate, panicked. Raw fairy power, roiling in pain. Begging. She had no time to react. New fingers closed around her.
The sight was horrific. A gruesome display of fairy potential, begging not to be swallowed up by lust. She tried to call her magic, she wanted to soothe the wilder part of herself. It was no use. Panic and despair swirled with equal fervor in the back of the human’s throat. It was already changing, the saliva inside the human’s maw converting pure fairy essence to muck. The fairy wretched, but nothing came up. She was hollow. The things that were once her wings buzzed in fear and hatred.
The humans were not content to devour her identity. The human fingers squeezed with cruel glee, and the sickening visage above her smiled with delight. More ichor spilled into the gaping mouth, darker purple droplets joined the swirling pinks. Lustful bubbles rose to the top, moans of pleasure creating a foam from her essence.
“Stop, please! Why are you doing this?!” The fairy sobbed.
“Swallow.” The voice of the woman above was soft but chilling. It was filled with command and authority. Fairy essence spilled from her lips as she spoke before sputtering into nothing. Blue sparks lit up her lips as she spoke that awful word. She could almost hear the screams of pain from the already dissolving magic inside.
The fairy looked down at what was left of her magic; everything that made her fae reduced to a quivering pool in the human’s mouth. There was no face, but she could see herself suspended over the human’s throat. They shared a brief moment of understanding. One was to be consumed, and the other was to watch. A fairy was to die, and something else was to be left behind. The light swirled, screaming. Begging.
gluck
Then it was gone. The magic was sent away with one quick gulp, drained into the woman’s gullet and already moving through her body. Turned into flesh for this slavering simpleton. These beasts couldn’t even use the potential energy. It was to be converted to fat instead of spells. More than a millennium of clever tricks and glamours, only to be reduced to energy for mundane sex. This was an aberration, a tear in the fabric of magic. Not just a crime against fae, but against all reality. Her useless nubs vibrated wildly.
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“Good girl. Let me clean you up.”
Isabelle leaned in and licked the stray droplets of fairy from her lover’s face. She smiled and cooed as Heather bucked and whimpered. When her tongue traced Heather’s lips, the woman under her tried to move up for a kiss. Isabelle deftly withdrew, only allowing the faintest of licks and playfully denying a full kiss. The woman was beside herself with desire.
Isabelle turned over the fairy, rotating it between her fingers as the little creature begged. She found it fascinating when they spoke. They were so real. So alive. Sometimes, Isabelle could not understand the words, but they often spoke in plain English. Especially when you snipped off their wings.
“Please…. Please….” The creature sobbed.
Isabelle knew that look. This little one would put on quite the show. She did not respond and merely turned the fairy around to inspect the damage on her back. The cute little appendages were fluttering madly, but the liquid around them had mostly dried. She licked the creature, started on the fairy’s butt and rolling slowly upwards as she locked eyes with Heather. The little creature screamed and sputtered as her tongue passed over the wounds. Sparks of flavor burst into her mouth, and the fairy’s little back buzzed violently.
Heather smiled, swallowing again. The taste was sublime, but that was nothing compared to being under Isabelle’s spell. Heather was enthralled and watched as Isabelle lowered the squirming fairy to her breast. The small screature was howling, and her back was gooey with spit and whatever was inside her. When Isabelle pressed the fairy’s twitching shoulders onto her nipple, Heather understood why Isabelle had asked her to capture one. It wasn’t just the vibrations, it was also the sparks. When she held the strange liquid in her mouth, it was almost like pop rocks, but more gentle. Isabelle’s saliva mixed with the fairy’s flavors to make something magical.
The noises the little thing was making were drowned out by Heather’s pleasure. Isabelle drew lazy circles around Heather’s tits, marking them with lilac smears. She alternated pressing the shrieking toy against her lover’s nipples and licking off the residue. The little creature was not leaking as much anymore, but what was left was still good. It was like licking stars off her lover, and in the moonlight, she felt like a cosmic goddess. She paused the languid circles to paint a word across Heather’s chest.
The squirming fairy bellowed, begging for her life. It was a strange thing to see how the fae moved and talked. She was a little annoying but would be silent soon enough. Isabelle leaned backwards to admire her handiwork. Heather was marked in periwinkle letters, smeared and blotchy from one breast to the other. SLUT in all caps. Unsatisfied, Isabelle brought the fairy to her lips. Her tongue slid forward, stained a deep merlot and still fainly glowing.
“Please, no! Please!” the creature screamed.
What was it even asking? To have those wings reattached? Isabelle scoffed, looking around for the spent appendages, but couldn’t find them. She must have tossed them into the bin near the nightstand while she was otherwise occupied. Isabelle licked the little thing, squeezing and coaxing more paint for her canvas. More fluid dribbled from the creature, like an almost-empty tube of paint. It would have to do.
With a quick flourish, Isabelle added a heart to Heather’s right nipple, using the fairy’s freshly agitated wound. The darker colors dripped and ran like blueberry compote. Heather seemed to realize how she’d been marked and began to blubber incoherently. Heather’s back arched, and she squeezed her thighs together to try and stimulate herself.
“No.” Isabelle’s voice was playful but demanding. She slapped Heather’s thigh with just enough force to make her retract. Her poor pussy was glistening, demanding attention. Isabelle always relished these moments, suspending her lover in anticipated pleasure. It was one thing to snip the wings off a defenseless fairy. It was another to break a woman and make her beg. Isabelle snatched the shears from the pillow. They had left a stain on the pillowcase.
“What do we say?” Insabelle intoned with a mock scowl, brandishing the open shears to Heather’s throat. The woman said nothing, but her eyes rolled forward, and she shuddered while her stained lips attempted to form words. Heather strained against the blade, abandoning the words and forming a kiss as an apology in lieu of speech.
“No. What do we say?” Isabelle asked again, punctuating her words with a gentle pressure on the shears. The cool metal smeared fairy goo onto her neck but did not cut. They were too dull, but Heather did not know. The delirious woman snapped backwards to avoid a cut, but the blade followed her. Isabelle could no longer maintain the severe gaze. She smiled and waited. The little fairy tried to interject, but her cries went ignored.
“I don’t understand! You don’t have to do this! Please, have mercy!” The fairy was hoarse from grief and pain.
“I’m- I’m- Sss.. Sorry.” Heather’s voice was halting and airy.
“You’re sorry, what?” Isabelle pressed the shears just a little harder. The fear in Heather’s eyes was exquisite.
“I’m s- sorry… M- Misteress.” Heather managed to whisper.
“Good girl. Now relax,” Isabelle said as she withdrew the shears. “Why do you look so frightened? This is supposed to be fun.” Isabelle sneered with a playful grin.
Heather merely nodded, smiling back with genuine ecstasy. Her eyes were dreamy, almost glassy. She was a mess, drooling pinkish glowing fluid from her delicate lips. Isabelle leaned in close, as if for a kiss, but stopped just short of her nose touching Heather’s.
“Hold on to the toy for just a sec, will you?” Isabelle whispered.
Heather nodded, and before she could react, the fairy was shoved into her mouth like a gag. Isabelle deposited the screaming fairy head first, up to her hips. The cute little legs kicked as Heather obediently suckled like the fairy was a pacifier. The pathetic screaming and begging was finally muted.
Isabelle used one finger to lightly tease both herself and her lover. Small circles just along the outside, gently moistening her fingers. Her own pussy was not much for touch, prefering instead to watch. This was simply how she enjoyed it. Heather’s was absolutely deranged by comparison, already pooling into a dark spot under her butt. Isabelle continued to tease heather’s clit, not offering enough pressure to provide any release. She played with herself idly, content to absorb the scene.
Heather twitched and bucked, occasionally using her tongue to hold the fairy in place so she could gasp and moan. She swallowed occasionally, tasing more of the tiny thing as the echoes of pain echoed in her head. It was background noise to her, just another voice screaming in the dark for Isabelle’s release.
Isabelle maintained her fingers on Heather while she reached for the other jar. The little blue woman within did not move. Isabelle twisted her thumb and popped the lid with one hand in a well-practiced motion. The deep shades of blue were not as vibrant as the other one, but the different shades provided a nice multicolored ambiance.
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The fairy took a deep breath. Her light shined just a little more brightly for a moment as she heard the wet sounds of pleasure. She knew it was time, but as always, she resolved herself to stay calm- at least at first. They would not have their way with her this time. She would refuse and command herself not to react. This time would be different, was what she always told herself. She drew in a long breath of fresh air and took a moment to appreciate her glass prison. Her next prison would not be so spacious.
The terrible fingers she had come to know so well descended. Their warmth was the only heat she ever experienced anymore, and she hated herself for enjoying it. The human’s fingers were dripping with the familiar scent of sex. Humans had such a banal routine for pleasure, which made it all the more degrading. She would be used as she always was, for a small pathetic moment between mortals. What sad lives they must lead to consume so frivolously. They took so much from the world and gave nothing back. They did not deserve to lay by the light of the moon goddess, let alone pleasure themselves with her denizens.
The monstrous human brought her forward, dangling again over the face of suffering. She was smiling, as always. The fairy took a deep breath. She had no wings nor dignity, but she still had her name. She remained still as a grave.
“I think this one is almost used up. Pity.” The monster spat.
The fairy knew all too well what that meant. She had heard it before. Exactly when was unclear; it felt like barely a moon since she was captured. It felt like she had been shackled here for an eternity. No. This couldn’t be. Why was this happening? The human licked her lips, the blood of her kin still fresh in her mouth. Her lips started to open, emitting a gentle moan as the human lowered her. Did this human know only hunger and pain? When did mortals become this cruel? When did their world turn upside down? The fairy tried to fly, to lift up to the moon and get away from it all. It was useless, just as it always was. This was what they wanted.
“Oh, this one still has some fight in her after all.” The woman said with a sickening smile.
“Please spare me, Isabella of the humans. I’ll do anything. Please.”
If the monster understood, she did not show it. There was no pity or even guilt. There was just hunger and desire. Her smiling lips parted wide to receive her.
“Do not take me! Please! I’ll serve! I’ll serve!” The fairy protested. Her body sputtered to life, wing stumps fluttering in panic. She had failed already, buckling before the jaws of the human who controlled her life. All her resolve was broken upon seeing the slick dark red stain at the back of her tongue, maddening throat. The entrance to the place fairies go to boil alive. The human licked her, and she screamed. Was this the end? The terrible throat danced with glee but did not take her.
“That’s more like it.” The human smiled, withdrawing the quivering fairy from her maw.
Faced with the reality of her existence and failing in her strength, the fairy retreated inward. It was the last place left unmolested by the creatures who called themselves human. She clutched her name, the only true possession a fae enjoys. The humans did not even know their true names, nor could they understand. She had that, at least. This is what she told herself as she felt the slippery lips of a human’s sex maw on her quivering back. The quivering opening swallowed her, and she served by thinking of flying.
Elsewhere in the human, the other fairy had become intimately familiar with the food maw. The heat was oppressive and made it hard to breathe. She stopped screaming, finding all her energy was needed to stay alive. She beat her fists against the behemoth tongue, pressing it away from her face and eyes. It continued to undulate, releasing moans as the fresh wounds bled into the human’s hellish chamber. The fairy’s essence called out for rescue, their desperate sadness dribbled across the taste buds before gulp after deafening gulp devoured her. What was worse was her phantom wings would not cease. It was like she was sprinting through the air but not moving. Her wings were not there, but they tried to flee anyway. The human loved it, and her saliva prevented the wound from fully closing.
Her essence was fractured, torn from her in two separate, unholy chambers. Each human burned one half of her alive, while the husk that was no longer a fairy was made to watch. Gulp. Moan. Gulp. Moan. The light from her body illuminated the impossible throat, ever-consuming fae essence like a hungry god. Whenever she felt like she would rip free from the terrible jaws, the human suckled, and her ears popped. She was trapped. A brief morbidity entered her mind. What if she thrust herself inwards? At least then she could die with her magic half. Whatever was left of it. Foamy bubbles of herself sputtered out into non-existence. The humans knew of death, but how could they fathom such complete erasure? The human was not just consuming someone vulnerable. She was sending magic to oblivion.
The fairy did not get a chance to try her gambit, to try and join what would soon be dissolved to nothing. Strong fingers gripped her backside and began to tug her away. She kicked and screamed, unsure if she should remain here or brave the next sick human game. The mouth that would have devoured her seemed to prefer the former, sucking and tugging as she was extracted. The soft lips didn’t want to see her go, and she exited with a loud pop. The human throat hung open below her, defeated and wild for more.
“Oh, you didn’t break the toy, did you?” The human above asked the gaping mouth, which did not reply.
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The little fairy seemed almost drained dry, but she was still kicking. Her eyes did all the protesting the creature could muster, which was thankfully silent. Isabelle smiled, worried at first that the little thing had already perished. They had so very little fluid in them, it was unfortunately easy to drink one dry before playing.
The vibrations of the fairy inside Heather were slow and steady, sending pleasurable ripples throughout. The little thing didn’t move her limbs or struggle, but her body thrummed pleasantly. She was large enough to fit comfortably but not quite large enough to stimulate. Isabelle always knew just enough pleasure to give and gave just below that. Heather was moaning and thrashing around, hands clutching the pillow behind her. Isabelle gave the purple fairy a reprieve while she deftly pumped the other back and forth by the feet.
“Up,” Isabelle commanded.
Heather complied, bending her knees and rolling her hips backwards until her legs were suspended in the air. Isabelle helped move her, offering a gentle lift and moving to the center so Heather could place her feet on Isabelle’s shoulders for support. The fairy dangled between them, gasping for breath and dripping with saliva. When it saw the feet of the other fairy protruding from Heather’s cunt, it panicked. It was kicking and screaming with increased fervor.
“Relax, little one. You’re going somewhere else.” Isabelle cooed.
Heather knew the meaning before the fairy understood. She lifted her butt just a little, rotating just a little more. The feet of the vibrating fairy dangled outside Heather’s sex while foamy bubbles of arousal spilled from the vibrations within. Isabelle pushed her lover with her shoulders, revealing the small brown entrance to her ass. Her whole backside was quivering with anticipation.
Isabelle pressed the fairy against the opening, smearing her lover’s spit along the outside. Isabelle knew that spit wouldn’t be enough but was worried about risking further lubricant from the fairy. She decided to give it a try. They could always find another. If this one didn’t survive, it would at least make for a temporary plug.
“You’re always so tight, my little slut.” Isabelle sighed. She grasped the little fairy with both hands and held the creature close.
“I am a noble fae! You will not- Please! Do not! N- No!” The creature tried to sound proud but immediately faltered under Isabelle’s gaze.
“Try not to die inside my girlfriend, OK?” Isabelle asked somewhat sarcastically. She brought the fairy in closer.
The creature began to protest again, but her words turned to screams. Isabelle had found one of the ruined knobs along her back and squeezed it between her thumb and forefinger. The little stump popped like a zit, and fresh purple fairy goo splattered across Isabelle’s fingers. While the fairy shrieked, Isabelle plunged her fingers into her partner’s ass. Fairies made the best lubricant, and of course, it offered a bit of extra stimulation. Heather gasped and panted, her hands squirting around for purchase. Isabelle could tell that the woman wanted to pleasure herself, but she knew better. Her obedience was worth a reward.
Heather’s butthole was well-oiled with fresh dark ichor. The dark purple oozed from her lover, some of it spilling as her sphincter flexed with delight. The blackberry sheen was darker than all the rest, nearest the center of the little toy. Isabelle found it fascinating how they changed as time went on and as they cut deeper. The fairy was still squirming violently, incessantly screaming. Those screams all but stopped when Isabelle reintroudced the toy to Heather’s ass, now ready for its guest. The fairy tried holding its little arms out to prevent being swallowed up. The puckering orifice was slick with the toy’s own fluid, but Heather’s muscles would not relax.
Heather gasped as she felt the little thing squirm against her. It was harder than usual to relax, she was just so excited. The little pops and tingles from the fairy fluid sent shivers down her spine, and the fairy in her cunt was beginning to struggle. Did they need air? The thought passed immediately as the vibrating end of the fairy was placed against her asshole.
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The world was closing in around her. The fairy longed for the jar, longed for her wings. Her own vital blood seeped from the gaping wound in her back, and all she could see was the human’s face. Concentrating. On each side of her, massive mounds of fat and tiny wisps of hair dominated her view. She was falling backwards into hell, or rather being pushed. The single digit cut into her chest. The beast below was much less eager to receive her. The one remaining stump vibrated violently, still trying to take flight. It was the first part of her to enter the human’s digestive exit. She knew enough about humans to know their eating habits. She knew how wasteful they could be and how their bodies produced mountains of filth. This orifice was no maw, it was the other end of the factory of suffering.
Soon, her magic would turn to filth like all things humans touched and be pushed from this place without ceremony. The powerful muscle relaxed, and a sickening stench erupted from behind her. The dark muscle flexed and shuddered, enveloping her shoulders. She turned to look and found only tight, glistening flesh. How did these depraved humans expect her to fit? The words of the one in charge echoed within her mind. No. She would not die. The human continued to press, and it felt as if she would pop against the muscle. Instead, she was enveloped whole. She plunged into fetid darkness, howling with pain and fear.
Here, the human was much more oppressive. The vile ass was a whirlwind of flesh and stinking death. The fairy wondered how many creatures passed through here so that the human could live. How many noble beasts met their end, broken down into useless grime and discarded? The stench was unfathomable, and the oppressive human heartbeat echoed from within. The fairy tried to latch onto something, anything. She tried to move, but her motion was constricted. Every small twitch she made sent ripples of pressure through the chamber. It squeezed her wounds, and more of her essence filled the human’s disgusting rear. She was bleeding to death.
The fairy resolved to sobbing and trying to remain still. Now and then, a terrible pleasure quake would constrict her, no doubt from the human’s continued lovemaking. She had to survive. She would not meet a pathetic end, crushed and squirted like shit from a human’s ass. She retreated inward. Then, she heard it. Her magic. It was boiling alive.
This terrible human’s flesh was omnipresent, but somehow her magic called through it. She was being killed, somewhere in this same deadly body. She could not reach out. She could not make contact. She screamed as the walls closed in. Her magic screamed, the primal pain of being dissolved into the void. A new voice joined the cacophony of pleasure and death as the fairy tried to stay alive. It was the other fairy, the one who had been here already. The one who had already given up. A wall of human flesh separated them, but her voice just barely cut through. The purple fairy, now almost red, recognized the shape of those words. The other fae was reciting her name.
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Isabelle made herself comfortable, allowing Heather to lower her legs. The fairy in her ass was thankfully sucked in whole. She was worried the thing would have broken in half. Thankfully, it didn’t have to come to that. Hunting for fairies was relatively easy, but fewer and fewer of them appeared lately. Isabelle didn’t want to waste one.
She gently tugged on the ankles of the fairy, pulling the toy from her lover’s hungry pussy. The little thing was covered in Heather’s sweet juices but unharmed. It was speaking, some kind of chant in their funny fairy language. She did that sometimes. Isabelle was fairly certain they could be fucked indefintiely but sometimes one did die in the line of duty. This one was a fighter and should be good for at least one more. Heather would have her orgasm regardless, but it was always disappointing when a toy died in the middle of a scene.
Isabelle re-inserted the fairy and started to work her lover’s clit. No teasing anymore, just sweet waves of pleasure for Heather. Isabelle sucked the fairy’s feet, pushing the toy further inside with her tongue. She used her tongue and the suction of her mouth to increase the pressure, trusting the toy to do its job on the inside. The toy slipped out as Heather’s vaginal walls constricted, spitting the fairy halfway into her mouth. Without hesitation, Isabelle snuck two fingers under her chin and pushed the fairy back. She kept hold of its feet this time, gently pushing the vibrating toy in and out while she ravished Heather’s clit.
Once in a comfortable rhythm, Isabelle slid her other hand under Heather’s backside. She knew her lover’s body well and kept her eyes closed while she negotiated the curves. Her free hand found her asshole, and her finger slipped in to fish for the other toy. She felt the vibrations first, which were powerful as she expected. It was fortunate the little creature was still alive, as Heather was nearly ready. Her whimpers and moans rose to the level of a wounded animal. Isabelle smiled, gently nubbling her partner’s quivering flesh. That was enough, Heather could wait no longer.
“Pl-Please! Mistress! Puh- Please! I- May I- May I cum?”
Isabelle did not stop but grunted in affirmation. Heather’s body stopped rocking and froze, tensing up and rising. The fairy in her pussy screamed as the walls closed in, and a squelch emitted as Heather’s body crushed the toys. She stopped breathing for a moment, and her body convulsed into a flurry of pleasure while she merely squeaked. Isabelle let go of the toy below her chin, allowing the contractions to push her out. Heather’s pleasure erupted, and the toy was washed out in a burst of cum. Isabelle was always happy to be squirted on and beamed while she watched Heather come back to reality. The little toy was still kicking. Impressive.
Isabelle fished around for the other toy, following the vibrations. It had been sucked in fairly far, but she found it. With a slow tug, the little fairy was retrieved. Heather barely registered it, still unable to move or speak. Isabelle tossed the butt toy back in the jar. Gooey residue splattered the glass. She would wash it later. For now, she grasped her lover and caressed her face. Heather had done so well. They curled into each other and smiled in the silent moonlight and lilac jar glow. Isabelle noticed the blue light had completely disappeared. Pity.
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The fairy in the jar sat in the filth and grime. She was ashamed. Ashamed that she let herself get caught. Humiliated that she allowed these humans to take everything from her. Most of all, she was ashamed that she had begged to die. A powerful fae such as herself, reduced to begging for death inside a human’s ass. Moreover, it did not work. She had survived and was now ashamed for how she had treated the other fae. Now, she understood. The fairy looked outside the jar. There was no longer any blue light; the other fairy had turned grey. Inert. She did not look like an elder, yet her final years had just been drained.
“Don’t let them take me…”
The poor thing must be delirious. They were already taken. Their magic consumed. Their bodies were broken and bruised. She must have been dreaming of the times before. At least now she was going to perish, fade back into the moonlight. She was envious of her for being able to escape. Perhaps in another life-
“Don’t let her erase me…”
No. The humans wouldn’t. They couldn’t. The fairy was lucid; she wasn’t dreaming. There was cold fear in her eyes, a sober despair. Her mouth opened, and she began to chant her true name. The fairy in the jar had pieced most of it together during her torment, but the length and complexity of fairy names were difficult to decipher by design. Yet this one was giving hers away.
This meant only two things in the few wilds. As they were not in love, it meant one final favor. A hastened end, to avoid what horrors might come next. The fairy in the jar shuddered to imagine what could be worse than having one’s name unraveled by a stranger but listened closely so she could carry out the grim task. The broken fairy recited her true name, laying in a puddle of human love, so she could be undone.
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Isabelle opened her eyes. The toys were where they had left them, and Heather was starting to become responsive. Isabelle administered water to help rehydrate what was lost in their lovemaking. Next was to provide a little protein to ease recovery.
“Would you like a sweet, my pet?” Isabelle asked.
Heather only nodded. Isabelle reached down past their intertwined legs and plucked the spent fairy. The colors were gone, and that meant it was time. There was nothing left to be done when they got that way, and it was kinda sad to keep them around. It was still alive, but only just, and it was a bit of a waste to just toss her. The fairy in the jar protested, asking her to wait for some reason. What, save her for breakfast? Fairies were so strange.
“She’s all tuckered out from your pussy. She put up a good fight, but your pussy won.”
“Oh. Poor thing. What do you do with them?”
“Well, you said you wanted a treat, huh?” Isabelle dangled the fairy overhead.
“Oh. Oh!” Realization dawned on Heather.
“Yeah, they’re actually pretty good even when they’re spent.”
“Do I chew her?”
“I mean, you can. But I think it’s more fun to keep them around, you know?”
“Around? Like, inside?”
“Yeah.”
“How long do they last?”
“A few days, sometimes.”
“Woah. That’s cool. Yeah, what do you say, little one? Sound like a fun time?”
The fairy was still chanting something in their funny little language. It was basically nonsense and almost too quiet to hear anyway.
“What are those sounds?”
“That’s just what they start to say, when they’re ready. I guess. You up for it?”
“I mean, are you sure? This one was yours.”
“You and her are both mine, my pet. I decide who eats who. I get to eat you out and you get to eat her up. If you want. I guess I can have her if you’re not interested?” Isabelle smiled and shook her head side to side with her tongue out, mimicking devouring the little fairy.
“No! Ok!” Heather giggled and leaned back onto the pillow. “Will you feed her to me?”
“Feed her to you, what?”
“Please, Mistress, may I eat your snack?”
“Good girl.”
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The final circle of the name was missing. The fairy in the jar screamed, then went quiet. She could almost hear the name chant over the incessant drivel of the humans. She had never been entrusted with a name and was ill-equipped to piece such a thing together. Fae names left no room for error. She knew of friends who had accidentally been transmuted by a botched name spell. Ages ago, she knew a powerful human who botched the name of her apprentice and turned a human into a fairy. It was a frightful tale shared to deter any attempts at name magic outside of love.
The humans seemed to have finally decided to commit their depraved act, and who would commit the sin against the moon. If she didn’t act quickly, there would be no second life for the consumed fairy. The only fate that waited behind the mouths of humans was to turn to filth or fat. She could already feel the two separate parts of her fade. There was barely anything left, churning away into nothingness in the bellies of mortals. Was this their plan all along? To take not just magic and dignity, but immortality? To what end? The humans gained nothing from it, save an hour of pleasure. Was that all they were truly worth in this modern age?
The chant was completed, and the grey fairy started over. She was on a loop, chanting endlessly until the message was received. She did not stop even as the fairy in the jar began to unravel it. She did not stop even as she was lowered slowly to the stained lips of the human below. She chanted her name still as the human kissed her and thanked her for the orgasm, as if it was given freely. As if it was worth her life. She chanted still as the kiss turned into a nightmare, and the human took her.
The fairy worked tirelessly, weaving her hands over each other and furiously untangling the name. She just needed to finish the spell, and the fairy would pass on to the next life. There was terrible power in a name, and no fairy could truly die. At least, they couldn’t until you tore their magic away and dissolved it separately while you tortured the years from their bodies. She deserved another chance. She did not deserve to pass into nothingness. Nobody did.
gulp
The sound marked the beginning of the end. She did not have much time. Her own essence was completely gone, dissolved and converted. She tried to focus on the name, to unravel it as quickly as possible, but she couldn’t help but wonder which percentage of her magic would become ass and which would be pushed through it. How much of a fairy turned to filth, and how much would the human body deem useful? She cursed the gods giving her the ability and circumstances to ponder these thoughts but was nearly finished.
The humans laid back and relaxed while the name began to form. The strings and lines and forms started to come together and align so that they could be ripped apart. It was like untangling oneself from briarthorn, and the last few thorns were about to tear free.
“Oh, I bet that one misses her friend.” One of the humans spoke.
“Hmm?”
“The other one, do you think they miss each other?”
The fairy was distracted as the jar tilted, and she lost part of the thread. It was alright, she just needed a little more time. She worked in a flurry, looping the name around and around the stinking jar of filth.
“What do you think she’s doing?”
“Dancing, I guess.”
The jar settled as the lesser human placed it on her exposed stomach. The fairy stopped, realizing where she was. Gurgling emanated from below, and the slow breathing of the human made it difficult to stand. The fairy redoubled her efforts, stringing the last few ideas together. She lamented the fae and their propensity for complex names.
“Hehehe! It kinda tickles. Hey, can you hear your friend down there?”
The fairy ignored her. The name was almost done. She looped everything together and rounded it nicely into a bow. Then, she yanked the cord.
“Awwwww. I think she’s doing a goodbye dance.” The human cooed.
Something was wrong. The cord snagged. She must have made a mistake. She started to double-check her work and found a few knots. Small mistakes. She smoothed them over, but then she heard a heartbreaking scream. The fae below was dissolving. She pushed that from her mind, trying to smooth out and untie the knots. She was going too fast. She needed to concentrate. Then, there was another cry of despair carried along the rumbling of the human’s guts.
“Oh! She’s fighting in there.”
“Hey, I wanna listen.”
The dominant human pressed her ear to the flesh of the other, eyes staring blankly into the jar. She was staring right through the fairy as another scream erupted. She was in so much pain, so sad and alone. The name was once again ready, but once again, the final pull snagged. The fairy checked again but found even more mistakes.
“Huh. I don’t hear anything.”
She understood what was happening. The name was dissolving in her very grasp. Everything the fairy could claim as themselves was being ripped apart. One’s name often changed over the course of years, but never this fast. Never this destructively. The human’s organ was not just a chamber of death. It was unraveling her. Her name no longer fit because she was no longer herself. She was mixing into a slurry, her name fading along with her.
“Awwww. Do you think she just realized? That I ate her friend?”
“I dunno, probably. You feel her?”
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird.”
“Yeah.”
“How many have you eaten?”
“I’m not sure, I don’t really remember them.”
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Inside, the human’s insides churned. The bright pink hues of the fairy spilled out, illuminating the gently pulsing chamber. This was it. This was nothingness. The fairy shrieked, not just in pain but in the dread. Soon she would be no more, and there was nobody here to help. Somewhere outside some wretched creatures were celebrating their cruelty, and she was complicit. She clung to the walls of the human, trying to hold on to this life for as long as she could. She felt someone tugging at her name, pulling and pulling as if to rescue her. It was too late. Who even knew her name? She shrieked again, this time not understanding why. She lifted her arm, but there was nothing there. How many limbs did she have? She laid back to try and remember.
The pool was warm and inviting. Her body tingled and occasionally burned. She let out a scream just to feel something a little different. This cave was strange, and someone was tugging at her to leave. It was comfortable, though, and she wasn’t done swimming. She went to wash her hair but there was nothing there. How long had she been bathing? She looked around, finding only the same undulating flesh she had always known growing up. It was a bit strange, being liquid. She tried to remember if she should be the one swimming or the one swam through. How long had she been sloshing around? Her best friend gurgled, and she relaxed. She was right, you know. No sense in worrying over it now. Someone was still tugging at her to leave. It was warm.