Gai-Shift - Green Chapter 3: Fairies & the Sacred Glade

by Rohana

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© Copyright 2011 - Rohana - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; other/f; captive; bond; rope; majick; tease; torment; tickle; plant; insert; encase; mast; climax; reluct/nc; X

(story continues from )

Chapter 3: Fairies & the sacred glade

There is a story about two girls in the woods.

They run along the broad grassy glades, the sunlight dancing on their full crinolines, their parasols spinning and Yippie the tiny dog trotting at their ribbon-slippered heels. After a delightful picnic of tea and cucumber sandwiches, they spend the long afternoon gathering flowers.

Our story is better. Two girls, the first an attractive and slender brunette, her face eternally optimistic. In one hand, a witch's staff. In the other, a lead. At the end of the lead stumbles a gawky naked girl, her upper torso wrapped in vine-ropes, her breasts locked up, her twat troubled by a cruelly knotted crotch rope. Every step reinforces the base passions steam-heating her blood.

“Please, Megan,” she breathed on the edge of wet distraction.

“I should make you call me 'Mistress',” Megan giggled. “I've always wanted to be a grande and scary mistress, with a hundred leather-strapped maids above stairs and a dozen mannis locked up in my dungeon...”

“Please, Megan,” a gasp. “We shouldn't... go further.... Fairies....”

“Fairies,” laughed the witch. “Oh, Chlorophene, I should hang you by your heels for an hour for fibbing. You're just trying to keep me from that 'Sacred Glade' of yours.” She reached back and gave a rope-locked nipple a tender squeeze. The druid stiffened, doing her best not to give the witch what she (and truthfully, what she herself) wanted.

At that very moment, Megan's eyes grew wide. In surprise, her grip tightened.

“Jolly Green Gods, I'm cumming,” Chlorophene cried, her inner thighs glistening. Her shoulders shook, she screwed her eyes closed and bit her lip. A quiet grunt. Once it was concluded she opened her eyes then gave her hip a small twist, pulling her nipple from Megan's unresponsive grip.

“See,” she said, “Told you.”

A little naked woman, smaller than a rag doll, floated high in the air on wasp-buzzing wings. She was round and pink and achingly sensuous. She giggled at the motionless witch, whined around her once and was gone.

Megan looked after the tiny erotic visage, nodding quietly. “I guess you were right.” With that, she gave the lead a flick, moving deeper into the strange woods.

That sighting was the first. Bashful little heads tracked them as they progressed, fluttering from cover to cover. As the age and density of the forest increased, the little airborne women became bolder. One zipped up and bashfully presented Megan with a daisy. Three hung from the captive's lead, swinging like little gymnasts. A naked little nymph seated herself on Megan's shoulder, kissing her delicate ear, making the little witch shiver.

She looked back to find Chlorophene in similar straits. Two little girls relined on her rope-stiffened breasts like little harem girls on oversized pillows, their tiny heels bumping against their nipple-footrests. Two sat on her naked shoulders, licking inside her ears like hummingbirds taking nectar. The druid was swaying, having trouble staying on the path.

“Oh, they're adorable,” Megan laughed. “Tell me about them, Chlorophene!”

“They are the guardians of the forest,” the brush-racked girl replied, trying to focus away from another cunt-burst. “They love to find travelers and to devil them silly. As for loggers, they tie them across their sappy stumps and torment them until they are weeping wrecks, a true lesson in 'nature appreciation'.”

“Do they ever leave the forest?”

“What, you looking for a pet?”

“Well...” Megan allowed, then giggled as a fairy came in close and tickled her chin with its fluttering wings.

“They occasionally play pranks on those leaving near the woods. They've been known to lace up a woman inside her her corset, arms at her sides, then raise her on a pulley and lower her feet-first into a keg of butter. They've also slipped into dairies and turned up the milking machines, forcing the harnessed mannis on a wild ride. It's even been said they'll slip into a bedroom and tuck in the spreads so tightly they capture the women within. Then, what they do with their wings to the poor girls' feet over long hours. I simply cannot recount!”

“Oh, do!” Megan pleaded.

Around them more fairies flew. Almost every one of them was female, randy little Rubinisk women darting in to touch, to stroke, to kiss. But here and there were manni fairies, big brutes. Unlike the downtrodden human manni's of the Gai-Shift world, these were studly little men. Fascinated, Megan watched as one of them yanked a tangle of vines from a trunk. These he used to rope up one, two, then three of his female counterparts, binding them with an artistic flair that made the witch's heart beat faster. With the last knot home, the little brute tossed the captive trio over his right shoulder like the plump fruit they were and buzzed off into a thicket. There, the leaves thrashed to the chorus of little satisfied cries.

She also noticed a strange thing. One of the little fairies looked just like Chlorophene, small and round, but moody-eyed and sulky all the same. Megan rather wished one of the manni-fairies would rope up the little vixen. It was rather erotic to picture herself forcing the real Chlorophene, still bound and rope-racked, to kneel close and watch as a little fairy-stud serviced her miniature counterpart. She'd stand behind her captive, perhaps reaching around to work her nipples to get her into the spirit of the thing...

Chlorophene had to stop again, to shudder and pant. The little people shrilled in delight as she gasped quickly, green eyes shuttering. She looked up with pleading eyes.

“You're killing me,” she wheezed. Then a fairy landed on the bridge of her long nose, grinding its tiny twat against it.

“Oh, they love you,” Megan giggled. A flowery garland was dropped over her head. After her captive shook her nasal-rapist off with a flick of her head, Megan tugged her into motion.

“You want a story?” the druid groused. “Here's one. There is a farm to the south, an isolated place with four sisters and an indentured female servant. The slave was always screaming (the few times they took the gag out) that she was a witch. Anyway...”

Megan's head came around sharply, dislodging little folk who screamed “Wheeeee!” as they tumbled away.

“Wait! A witch?”

“Yes, a skin-n-bones brunette with funny wire spectacles at the end of her sharp nose.”

“Was her name Zelda?”

“I wish it was Megan,” Chlorophene replied, the living center of an ongoing fairy orgy. “Do you want to hear what happened or not?”

Megan nodded. She'd always wondered what had happened to the women of her original coven.

“So the fairies started to trouble their farm. Trip wires. Pudding traps. Pillow raids. Panty pulls. The entire deal. These four sisters decided they had to do something. They decided to sacrifice your friend Zelda. ”

“Late one afternoon, they pulled her from whatever amusement they were currently inflicting on her and carried her out into the fields. She struggled in their arms but, of course, their farmgirl muscles held her tight, fast and helpless. Over their shoulders they carried long loops of ropes, on their faces, expressions of smug amusement.”

“Zelda, naked in their encircling arms, bucked and twisted. A hand clapped over her mouth kept the worst of the expletives bottled. When they stopped she looked up, her glasses almost slipping from her bony nose. There in the edge of the field, in the shadows the the dark woods, stood a twelve foot tall vertical pole newly erect in the tilled dirt. ”

“Standing on ladders, they passed the struggling gaunt girl up, locking her wrists together on a ring set atop the pole. Once the thick rope hand been overwound around her wrists and knotted securely, they let her dangle. Nothing takes the fight out of a girl like suspension.”

Megan nodded. It had been one of the lessons Woody had taught her. She remembered her own toes dangling just above the moonlit floorboards.

“But they didn't want that thin body of her's flapping around like a pendant. They made her fast. Her ankles were crossed behind the pole and braced up, soles upwards. More rope shanked her chest and belly to the pole, locking her into place. A final thick rope was shoved through her teeth and tied behind the pole, lacing her head back hard. And there she hung, proud and haughty yet naked and displayed, glaring down at them through her exertion-steamed wireframes.

“ 'See you tomorrow,' the eldest of the farmgirls laughed as they turned to go. 'Whatever's left, anyway.'

“So imagine it's you up there, wrists locked above your head, body locked fast to the pole, your sensitive ribs and feet poised, your sex outthurst and waiting to be taken. The warm evening wind tickles across your naked flesh. Nervous sweat trickled down your ribs. You are alone and forlorn, a sexual sacrifice. And all you could do in your high captivity is hang in your ropes, watching the sun slide behind the trees, knowing they would soon come.”

“And come they did. Oh, there was a lot of cumming, that night. They came drifting from the woods, these wicked fairies, fluttering around their suspended offering, bashfully touching yet growing ever bolder. Poor Zelda threw herself at her bonds like a madwoman, causing them so strongly they hesitated... but only once. Then these playful forest spirits began moving in, gnawing on her tits, coaxing her soles, highlighting her ribs, and doing things to her puss that simply shouldn't be done. And bound as she was, Zelda could only watch as a fifty tiny tongues and a hundred little hands explored her body. Irregardless of her notions of pride and dignity (whatever those randy farmgirls had left her) she was used, used, and used again, teased and tormented until her muted howls broke the night, making all those women within earshot huddle deeper into their beds and perhaps masturbate to its haunting sound.”

“And what happened then?” Megan asked, walking slow, her eyes visualizing the scene, the fairies dangling from her hemline inhaling the raw scent of her excitement.

“They came out the next day and found her sobbing and giggling, moaning and growling. Quite mad, of course. She's now leather-locked in a sanitarium, the place they send those women who trip out in the Pit. She's slowly being molested back to sanity but its a long and thorough process.”

“Poor Zelda,” Megan sighed, wondering if she could go and see the bony, aloof witch. Perhaps they would have time alone in the asylum. Perhaps the patent's leather sheath would have access ports which would allow her to better console her confused friend...

Chlorophene stopped again to shudder, her blanket of fairies giggling as they rode out the orgasmaquake by clinging to her ropes. “Please, untie me so I can swat these little pests off. They're driving me mad!”

“You're supposed to be a druid,” Megan tutted. “You're supposed to love all things natural.”

“What they are doing,” the green girl moaned, eyes half-closed, “isn't natural.”

“Come come,” Megan said, tugging the rope.

“Please, don't say that,” Chlorophene wearily sighed.

Megan found herself thinking of Zelda, of how the ungainly witch had put her on edge in the short time she'd known her. With her narrow face, pointy nose and shining glasses, she reminded Megan of a schoolteacher, and had she demanded Megan to comply with any request, the poor girl would have instinctively acquiesced. Thinking of what the cruel woman might have done to her made Megan fiddle with the Chlorophene's lead. Looking down, she realized she'd distractedly tied it around her wrist (as she perhaps wished Zelda had). She really didn't bother to untie it; with her curse, those things took care of themselves.

But twenty minutes (and a pause for a Chlorophene-climax) and the rope was still tied tightly.

Megan focused on magically untying the knot. It didn't shift. She realized that her power was so low now it was negligible. Perhaps the staff had a little juice but for all practical purposes this strange forest had absorbed her power and made her into a normal girl. One that could be tied up tight as a package, tight as a sausage, and would be unable to do anything about it.

She did notice one strange thing. There was another Chlorophene-fairy in attendance, twin of the first. She had mistaken the two before she realized she was truly seeing double, that there were two nimble sprites. They circled around giggling at the plight of their hulking lush-flushed, cord-cinched human-counterpart. Hardly had Megan gotten a good look at the two when all the fairies vanished, flittering away as fast as their wings could carry them.

Megan was about to turn and ask why their escort had departed when a sight of irresistible, unimaginable beauty opened up before them.

They were in the sacred glade.

It was a stand of huge oaks around a silvered lake, the ground mossy, the silence absolute. Megan stood stunned at the raw natural beauty before her. Entranced, she stepped forward, Chlorophene drifting after her, a knowing smile on her face.

Without warning, almost as if part of some natural order, thick leaves folded up around the little witch, coming together so softly and firmly that at first she didn't realize she was wrapped up, a vertical struggling bundle, until she actually was. Her staff had slipped from surprised fingers to fall on the grassy bank. With her head poking out the top of the wrap she called, “Chlorophene! Watch out!”

“I am,” the green girl smiled. “I almost missed mine.” With that, she side-stepped directly onto the root-bulb that unleafed her own green entombment. Smiling drearily, she tipped her head back as wide fronds coiled up her roped body, firming up around her limbs, forcing a tiny gasp as she was snugged in the foliagic embrace.

Megan tried to tip over, to maybe worm free but the stiff leaves held her erect, a squirming green hour-glass shape. She focused on a spell to free herself but nothing happened – she was tapped out. Deep within her green folds she felt her toes lift clear of the root bulb as the leaves tightened harder around her, removing all chance of leverage. The two were totally, absolutely trapped.

“What will we do?” she cried back.

“Enjoy the day,” the druid laughed. “Nothing else to do.” She noticed Megan's shocked look, her renewed struggling. “Oh, don't worry. Your plant is now secreting a tailored acid, one that will break down specific compounds.”

“Am I... Am I being digested?”

“Not you, pretty witch. But your sandals and clothing, yes. And my ropes. Soon we'll be wonderfully, delightfully naked.”

Megan's eyes widened as sappy fluids oozed up around her. “Oh... Oh! Oh my!” She struggled again but the green fist tightened around her. “OhOhOhOh!”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the druid purred, as content as lounging in a spa, “Now for the rest of it. Don't fight it, just enjoy it.”

Megan rejected this, squirming as the broad leaves slowly rose around her, folding across her pink cheeks to form a thorough gag. More of them looped up and over her head, flattening over it hood-like, leaving only her desperately blinking eyes visible. Her eyes widened once when a tube-like shaft was forced between her teeth, releasing a slow drip of sap-like fluid. Her eyes grew wider still when a second tube took advantage of inserting itself for the removal and use of her waste products. And her eyes were wide as saucers when a third tube, for no obvious function other than to distract her, forced itself into her last remaining hole. Vertically tri-spitted, she could only hang in her tight enfoldment.

She calmed after that, the sap force-fed into her system acting as a drug, taking the edge off her panic. She relaxed, letting herself slip a little further onto her crotch-rod, moaning as it filled her. Just as the plant had wrapped itself around her, she wrapped herself around a slow-motion orgasm, one that went on and on in dreamy rapture. To her side, Chlorophene stood in grip rigidity, her eyes glazed, her hips slowly thrusting. The plant wrapped every tighter around Megan, her skin tingling as her clothing was absorbed, her limbs trembling as her passions were cultivated. In her mind came the nursery rhyme... ...With silver bells and cockle shells. And pretty maids all in a row...

She had no idea why these things were being done to her but as her companion suggested, she settled back and savored the way the fleshy shaft of her body filled this silky leaf vulva.

But what happened next was truly amazing...

05.09.11

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