Naughty Fairy Novels & Stories

"You naughty, naughty girl. What is this damn outfit you're wearing? Throw in the pigtails and you look like a seven-year-old school girl." "Well, I am a school-girl. I'm your school-girl." "Perhaps, I should also treat you as one. Bad girls get punished, and you have been a bad girl. A very, very, bad, bad girl, Lia," he rasps, dragging his hand up the back of my skirt slowly and kneading my right cheek — just one glorious time — before he pulls his hand away, disentangling from me, letting out a shaking breathing. "Fuck this, Lia. Enough of these mind games."

But that would mean. “No. No, no, no,” I said, sitting up straight, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not going to start believing in fairy tales just because some guy can play mind tricks on me.” I pushed myself off the couch again, this time heading for the door. I needed air. Fresh, cool air to clear my head and get me out of this ridiculous spiral. I grabbed my jacket from the hook by the door and stepped outside into the crisp afternoon breeze.

Slowly, I got to my knees on the chill floor while my hands were behind tied. ‘Good boy,’ she grated, a smirk on her lips. ‘Now get naked. Slowly. Show me what a thief gets.’ My face grew hot, but I complied: One-handed was doing the job of unbuttoning my shirt, which then slipped down. Shoes off, then socks. Down went pants, kicked to one side. Underwear were the last to go. I stood naked, with a cock already half-hard from embarrassment. She did a slow turn around me, her heels echoing. 'Count what you stole,' she told me, taking a wooden ruler from the counter. 'Eight. That's eight spanks on your butt.'

Her hair was still flat. She was putting on a short flay night gown that was raised by her almost sagging boobs and her ass which looked pretty and attractive especially with the cellulite-filled legs and thighs. “Snap out of it Zane, this woman you are mentally admiring is your mother. Stop thinking about it.” My inner conscience was trying to calm me down but it was working more. I was already imagining weird things in my own world. I imagined it with my mother’s body and with Liv’s body.

Awesome start to the day. "He isn't a king." Bolton commented to my inner monologue. "Don't care." I sighed back to him. "Who is the fairy? She is beautiful." "That is Yavanna and watch what you say around her. Never take fruit from a fairy either. They are gorgeous creatures, but love a good game of wits. They always win too." "Ok, any other warnings then stay away from Dragons and Fairies?" "You'll be fine, just try not to be a brat. Listen and gauge the people around you. You'll catch on quickly."

“Not your storybook princesses. Not fish-tailed angels. But creatures of tide and hunger. Their songs aren’t lullabies, they are traps. They drag ships under, for fun. For vengeance. For a different kind of delicacy.” I saw black eyes in green water, mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth. I was gripping the stool so hard my knuckles ached. “Fair folk,” she said, her voice turning sharp. “Don’t ever call them fairies. That word is a lie. They are not cute. They are not kind. They are old as time, twisted by beauty and cruelty. They trade in riddles and pain. Step into their realm, and time will forget you. You will come back hollow, if you come back at all.”

The answer of Shayne, makes Dexter, recall, one story he had heard with a particular forest farmer, that circulated on their place, when he is still a young boy. Accordingly, the farmer near the foot of the mountain, has a sweet potato plantation, about half a hectare or more. He noticed, his plants were being destroyed and eaten by wild pigs every night, so he puts fence around, to keep his plants safe. But to his amazement, it is still being destroyed and eaten by wild pigs, but no part of the fence is broken, he wonders, how it happened. So, the farmer, together with one friend, guard it the whole night, they put up, a tree house nearby, they carry a shot gun. In the middle of the night,

More like moan. He just hums and continues kissing me. "Baby,stop." I say a bit louder. He doesn't listen. *flashback continue* "Please don't do it. Please. I don't want it." I beg as he pulls my underwear down. "I think you do. Being a bad girl on purpose. You want daddy's cock. Naughty girl." He says smirking sadistically. "No Tommy. Stop it. Stop! I don't want it! Stooooop!" I scream.

The fairy seems to have more understanding, I'd got to see more of her last night, fucked her too. So now I know that though the nymph is wild and uninhibited, the fairy can take a good pounding too, though with more reserve. I didn't think of it before, but with her two differing personalities it's going to be like living with two entirely different people. That shit ought to be fun.

I say, pointing to the hanging garment. The hybrid stares at the dress for long seconds, seeming confused, then turns to me. “You’re not serious?” “Of course I am.” “I’d rather stay naked. That dress shows even my belly, and from the waist down it’s almost transparent.” “I thought fairies were used to wearing transparent clothes,” I tease, and she stands up irritated. “Nymphs do; I don’t. I’m not a nymph, even though I’m tall for a fairy—I owe that to my father.”