“Rebecca! What is this?”
Sprawled on her bed, Beck glanced up from her tablet. Mrs. Henderson stood at her bedroom door, gazing at the room with horror in her eyes.
“Are any of your clothes actually put away?” she asked, gesturing toward the clothing heaped around the room.
“It’s ok, Mrs. H.,” Becky said calmly. “I know where most of it is.”
“That’s not the point,” Mrs. Henderson replied. “Clothing should be neatly folded and put in your dresser, or neatly hanging in your closet. It shouldn’t be dumped onto a chair, and it certainly shouldn’t be dumped on the floor. The closet fairy is not going to like this one bit.”
“The what?”
“The closet fairy. Every closet has one, hiding in the clothes you hang there. But with all your clothes thrown around this way, she has nowhere to hide. That might make her angry enough to come out.”
Becky sighed. “Mrs. H.,” she said slowly, “I appreciate you letting me stay here while I get started in this new town, but I’m twenty eight years old. I don’t believe in fairies. Of any kind.”
Shaking her head, Mrs. Henderson backed from the room. “I only hope you don’t regret those words,” she said as she closed the door. Becky shook her own head before returning her attention to her tablet.
“Ok, where are they?” Standing in the middle of the room, Becky looked around her. She had just showered, and now she wanted her favorite jeans to put on. With growing frustration, she shuffled through the heaps of clothes scattered around. Finally, she dropped to the floor and peered under her bed.
“There you are.” Rocking back onto her heels, Becky considered. Her jeans were in the corner, seemingly wrapped around one leg of the bed. She could just crawl under from here, but the piles of clothes on the floor made that look like an awkward contortion she wasn’t in the mood for. Finally, she moved to the foot of the bed, shifting a small mound of blouses out of her way, and slid under.
Carefully, she worked herself the length of the bed until she could reach her wayward jeans, eyes widening as she felt something wrap around her wrist. There was a sudden tug, pulling her the rest of the way under the bed.
“What the….?” Somehow, her jeans had become knotted around her wrist, pinning it to the leg. Muttering, she reached with her other hand, only to feel something wrap around that wrist. A sudden jerk yanked her onto her back, her arms spread wide over her head. A quick glance showed a second pair of jeans now knotted to the other leg, pinning her other wrist.
Becky began tugging at her arms, only to freeze as something wrapped around each ankle, pulling her legs apart and stretching her body. Raising her head, she peered down the length of her body. One of her sweaters now held an ankle bound to a bed leg, the other leg held by a knotted dress. Becky tugged with all her strength, but, stretched out as she was, she could only wiggle her hands and feet. Obviously, she wasn’t getting out of here without help.
Reluctantly, she opened her mouth to call for Mrs. Henderson to come get her out. Before she could even form a word, something forced itself into her mouth, turning her surprised scream into an unintelligible grunt. She felt something wrap around her head, tightening and holding the whatever it was inside her mouth. Unable to call for help, she could only squirm helplessly.
Suddenly, Becky froze, gazing up with wide eyes. Above her, hovering just under the bed’s frame, was a woman. That is, if something less than a foot tall could be called a woman. Becky’s eyes took in the tiny, perfectly formed body, the beautiful face, the tiny straps that were the only adornment on the small body, straps that encircled her waist, supporting…..
Becky’s eyes grew even wider. 'How', her dazed mind asked, 'could a ten inch tall woman be wearing an eight inch long strapon?' Stunned, she could only watch as the tiny woman carefully positioned herself over Becky’s helplessly spread thighs. Becky squirmed madly, but her bonds held her securely, keeping her from dodging as the tiny woman suddenly plummeted, drawing a muffled squeal from Becky’s gagged lips as she found her target.
* * *
“Well, this is nice.” Mrs. Henderson gazed around the room. Except for the robe Becky wore, there was not a single article of clothing to be seen. “What brought this on?”
Becky shrugged. “I just decided that, since you’ve been so nice to me, I should at least do my part by keeping my room neat.”
“Well,” Mrs. Henderson said, “it looks nice.” She held out a box. “This came for you in the mail.”
Eagerly, Becky accepted the package, watching as Mrs. Henderson closed the door behind her. Alone again, Becky quickly slipped out of her robe, draping it across a chair, before tearing open the box and removing the contents.
The ball gag quickly found its place behind her teeth, straps pulled tight to hold in firmly in place. Leather cuffs wrapped around each wrist and ankle, small padlocks securing them. Small coils of rope were placed at each corner of the bed.
Almost shivering with anticipation, Becky lay in the center of the bed, legs spread, arms held wide over her head. After a moment, she felt a tug on each limb, glancing up to see one wrist now secured to the bed’s frame with rope. Her other limbs, she knew without looking, were similarly bound. Helpless, she now eyed the closet.
Slowly, the closet door opened, a tiny, perfectly formed woman floating out into the bedroom. Slowly, she floated toward the bed, the huge strapon dangling from her tiny waist. Smiling around her gag, Becky rocked her hips in invitation, watching as her very own closet fairy drifted down, the tip of the strapon pointing exactly where Becky wanted it to go.
'I only hope', she thought, 'that she uses lube this time'.
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01.01.14 | updated - 07.05.17