The Enchanted Forest

Miss Addison’s preparation included cleaning him, his skin pinked by the thoroughness and force of her scrubbing. Inspecting him, she deposited him in his container and closed it with the lid, before leaving.

He frowned, standing up, placing his palms against the lid and testing its tightness. No chance. There was no way he could pop the lid off.

When she returned, she was wearing a diaphanous robe of emerald green, elements of flourish woven into the garment. She was completely naked underneath, her hair down and she wore makeup around her eyes. He was surprised how lovely she was, though it was kind of weird and unsettling to see her done up this way compared to her usual appearance at school.

Peeling the lid of the square, she took him in her right hand, thumb over his chest and pinning him in her palm. Stepping out of the bathroom, she moved down the hall toward the door with the odd looking wreath. Reaching out with her free hand, she turned the shiny polished gold colored knob before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. When she flicked on the light, Tom got to see the interior. The room was in complete contrast to everything else he had seen in the apartment, a veritable explosion of color. All four walls were adorned with murals of bright green forest scenes, one including a spectacular water fall. Shelves lined the walls adorned with dozens and dozens of fairy figurines of every color in various poses, some standing, some reclining, others on crystal spheres or mushrooms, and yet still more hanging on threads suspended from the ceiling, one sitting in a crescent moon and another on a star. His mouth hung open and he shook his head, his brain on overload. There was a bed covered with forest patterned duvet, two end tables, shades matching the walls and blanket on the bed.

“Whoa,” he muttered. It was like some shrine dedicated to Nene Thomas.

 “This room is the Enchanted Forest,” she said softly, a tone of reverence in her voice.

Tom shook his head slowly. She’s completely fairy obsessed, like bonkers crazy obsessed, like probably dresses up like one and dances in the moonlight mental.

“You certainly have quite a collection Miss Addison,” he said mindful of his tone.

She nodded, “Indeed,” she breathed, eyes alight as she stepped further into the room and closed the door behind.

He was bereft of words. Bet you each one of these things has a name and quirky personality traits!

Carrying him over to the bed, she set him on the arboreal themed duvet and allowed the sheer robe to slide of her shoulders.

Spreading her hands apart, “You may gaze upon me,” she said, tone lofty.

He did. He was surprised by the way she looked. B cup breasts nicely shaped, small erect nipples, slender waist, hips a little narrow, pubic hair neat. He nodded appreciatively, cocky grin on his face.

Climbing on to the bed, she sat with her back to the head, legs together and straight out in front of her. “You will begin by attending to my feet,” she instructed making a gesture in that direction with her hand before picking up a book off of the nightstand.

Feet? He had never found feet sexy, they were, well, just feet. What he wanted was a crack at her pussy. Frowning, he nodded, and made his way down the bed to her feet. Reaching out he started kneading her right foot.

 He wasn’t sure how long she kept him at her right foot, seemed like forever to him, before she rolled her left onto its side and nudged him over to her other foot.

Letting out a large sigh he began to rub her other foot.

Parting her legs, she snapped her fingers and pointed at the space in front of her privates. “Come here,” she ordered.

Finally, he said, jogging up to the indicated spot. Close as he was, he could feel the warmth radiating off of her, anticipation making him hard.

Reaching down, she took him in her right hand, “You must learn subservience, your place,” she stated. Bringing him forward, she held him near her left breast. “You may begin to please me now,” she instructed.

Nodding, he took the nipple in his hands, rolling the stiffened flesh from side to side before moving forward and licking it before playing with it some more.

After a few moments, she nodded slightly and moved him up closer to her face.

Standing on her palm, facing her. He looked down at his erection and then grinned back at her, trying to be impish.

She looked at his small erect phallus and frowned. “Thomas,” she said sharply, voice stern. “This not about you,” she chaffed, reaching up and pinching his member cruelly. Turning him over, she brought him down between her thighs, parting her legs and rubbing him brusquely against her flesh. He tried to turn in her grip, the pressure she was applying hurt. He tasted his own blood as his lower lip split. She was unrelenting, almost grinding his face against her hot sticky excited skin. Unable to do anything to stop her, he tried to go limp, letting her do as she may. The force of her rubbing abrading his delicate skin as she climbed higher and higher toward culmination.

She cried out as she achieved release, pushing his face hard against the opening of seeping vagina, “Drink of me,” she said, pushing his head from side to side and smearing his face and hair with her thick juice. He coughed, trying to turn in vain to turn his head, but he was completely powerless to prevent her from doing whatever she desired as she continued to produces more of the opalescent cloudy liquid. With a moment of break, next she pushed his head and upper torso directly into her, the frilly slippery tissue parting to grant him access. Slowly, she began to rock him in and out. He wanted to tell her to stop, but his mouth and throat were choked with her cum. He blacked out.

She continued to use him, bringing herself to another climax, feeling his tiny body every time her muscles clenched in spasm. After coming, she rested a moment, lying there, his lower half hanging limply out of her. Reaching down she tugged him free and held him by a foot near her face, sucking him into her mouth. Walking back to the bathroom, she sat on the toilet and urinated, rolling him in her mouth. Finished, she spit him out onto the palm of her hand and stood up, reaching back and flushing. A smile touched her lips, “Tomorrow, we will work on your endurance,” she commented, rolling his unconscious body off of her hand and into his plastic prison. Sealing the lid, she flicked off the light and left the room.