Avalee closed her eyes and inhaled. The woods were full of delicate scents; the sweetness of pine mixed with rich cedar and the earthy smell of the soil. An autumn chill was beginning to set in, but the sun still held the golden memory of summer. Avalee opened her auburn eyes and smoothed out her blue tea dress. The scent of the woods was like lace – it harbored patterns and wove together a story; something that only made sense when it was all there, together. She called upon this image, and the world opened before her. Delicate strands twisted and moved, pulling taut in some places and loose in others. She held out her hands as though commanding an orchestra and began to weave a new pattern.
It was fairy hunting season.
Each year around autumn, fairies gathered to attune. Those freshly attuned would be the most vulnerable, with access to great power but with no knowledge on how to use it properly. Avalee’s fingers danced in the air as she began to lay her trap. Something subliminal, something almost hypnotic – something that a strong fairy would resist almost by instinct, but a weak one would simply fall into. The wind whispered against her long, slender hands as she wove strands of magic into a gentle current. It meandered through the trees, reaching out toward places she suspected fairy nexuses would be. Where the currents met, she wove more aggressively, tightening strands until they twanged into reality. These she coated with a sticky sap-derivative and hung between the branches of larch trees, knotted such that any motion would collapse them on an unwitting visitor. And with that, the trap was set.
Avalee walked out of the larch grove. The forest changed as she walked: tall, piney coniferous trees thinned out into waist-high brush, the blackened corpses of burned trees standing skeletal. Avalee returned to her cottage, in the centre of this burned-over section of the forest.
She was almost out of fairies; she had but one left, caught in the off-season by pure luck. She planned to use it tonight.
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Avalee set the jar on her glass table, and beside it set her ritual embroidery. The little thing in the jar glowed softly, its screams muffled. She unscrewed the jar and tipped it, letting the fairy inside tumble onto the table. She stood her full height and stared down at the little creature.
On the table, Sage scrambled to her feet. She had been trapped in that jar for a month on a shelf in the Witch’s home. The orange sunset blazed through her as she struggled to get her bearings. It was the first sun she’d seen since she was caught. A shadow fell over her as her eyes adjusted.
“Oh…”
The giantess above her was gorgeous. Even as fear gripped her heart, Sage felt something else stir within her. The way the enormous woman held herself – the poise, the perfectly fitted cut of her dress, the way the deep blue perfectly complemented her expertly pinned brown hair, and her face – her full lips, her commanding brown eyes – gods above, Sage wanted to touch her face. Almost granting her wish, the giantess bent down, putting herself at eye-level with the smitten fairy.
“Please…” Sage said, her voice trembling. The giantess’ presence was imposing, but Sage was determined. She could feel the giantess’ gaze on her, making her feel more vulnerable than ever before. She felt a desperate instinct to run and hide, just to rid herself of that gaze.
“I’ve heard the rumors,” Sage continued. “But maybe you aren’t as bad as they all say?” Her soft green wings fluttered behind her. Her mana stone glowed purple in her left wrist.
A smile tugged at the corner of the giantess’ mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Rumors always have a grain of truth to them,” she said. Her voice was deep and velvety rich. “Tell me, little fairy, what have you heard?”
Sage backpedalled and her back hit the jar. She pressed against it, feeling the need to slide down and make herself smaller. She squeaked as the giantess reached out a hand and touched Sage’s face with the huge pads of her fingertips. Sage trembled, the warm touch sparking sensation in her crotch.
“I’ve heard…” She said. The long, slender finger slid downward, brushing her neck. Sage had to tilt her head to make space for it. Fuck, she’s huge, she thought. She could just pick me up and –
“What?” The giantess’ tone changed. Her finger poked Sage’s chest and knocked the wind out of her, applying pressure until the little fairy squirmed.
“I heard you eat fairies for breakfast!” Sage choked. “I heard you do it because you like it! Because you’re evil!” The finger drifted further down and was joined by the rest of the hand as the giantess grasped her whole body in her warm, unrelenting hand.
Avalee picked up the pathetic creature. She admitted that she was curious about her reputation among the small folk. She told herself it was so that she could gauge whether the local population was getting too antsy about her; if she should shift her hunting grounds. Deep down inside, tucked away, she felt powerful. Garnering such a fearsome reputation felt good. She wanted to terrify them. She wanted to play with their little emotions like toys, traumatize and tease, dragging out her ritual until the final act. None of this showed on her face. Despite her darkest desires, she had a job to do.
“Hmm. How much of that do you think is true?” Avalee raised the squirming fairy to her face and studied it. The little thing was red in the face, breathing heavily. A natural fear response, to be sure. Avalee squinted. No, not fear, at least not entirely. Avalee’s lips pressed together. She had seen this lusty expression before. A pang of grief interrupted her thoughts, but she waved it away. The sooner she consumed the little thing, the sooner she’d complete the ritual, the sooner the grief would be quelled.
“I – you –” Sage couldn’t form a complete sentence. The giantess’ face was right there, right in front of her. She could feel the giantess’ warm, humid breath. Her lips were so beautiful and plush, she just wanted to touch them. Again, almost granting her wish, the giantess moved her closer. Sage reached out to touch the lips when suddenly they engulfed her. A huge, monstrous tongue attacked her, and she screamed into the darkness of the giantess’ mouth. Her little fists pounded on the teeth and gums of her captor as the tongue undulated beneath her, tasting her. The tongue began to explore, and Sage was rudely reminded of how wet she had been moments before. The feeling was electric as the giantess’ tongue caressed her inner thigh, probed her most intimate parts. She screamed in fear and in absolute pleasure as the tongue brought her incredibly close to orgasm but drew away. She was tossed around, pushed to the roof of the claustrophobic mouth and rubbed up and down by the powerful muscle.
Avalee took the little thing into her mouth quickly. She sat in her wicker chair and confirmed her suspicions: the fairy was slick and salty with desire. She played with it almost idly as she picked up her loom. On it was the roots, trunk, and branches of a tree; she had yet to fill in its leaves and flowers. As she sucked on the squirming fairy in her mouth, she began to sew. Stitched crossed over each other as she deftly wove colour into the fabric. She concentrated on the task at hand – each thread was made of real cotton, but with intent and purpose she wove threads of magic into the piece simultaneously. She savoured the struggles of the fairy as she finished the first branch, then the second and third, meticulously stitching long, drooping leaves and fluffy grey florets. She pushed the fairy to the roof of her mouth and swallowed the spit around it, sparking a new wave of desperate struggles in her prey. It was almost over, the ritual almost complete. She stitched the last branch, her tongue tasting arousal.
Sage shrieked as the giantess swallowed around her. The flesh of her enormous throat loomed beneath her, ready to take her in at any moment and force her down. She scrambled toward the front of the mouth when the tongue once again overtook her and began to taste her vulva in earnest. She moaned maniacally as she was brought closer and closer to climax by this woman who would eat her alive. The fear, the hormones, the constant assault of flesh on flesh, of gliding, wet power against sensitivity – it was too much to handle. Sage came harder than she ever had before. The tongue did not relent, instead doubling its efforts as it tasted her climax. Sage weakly resisted but the giantess was too powerful. Her body was limp as she realized her situation.
“No, god no, not like this!” She said, struggling to move after being so physically drained. She felt the giantess tilt her head back. Sage slid backward toward the throat and could do absolutely nothing as the giantess swallowed her whole.
Avalee swallowed her snack, taking a moment to enjoy the moment. The fairy slid almost effortlessly down her throat, past her chest and into her waiting stomach. She trailed a hand to her belly, feeling the little thing trapped inside. Its mana stone was now hers to use, if only for a few fleeting minutes. Once the fairy perished, the mana stone would fade in power too. Avalee felt a rush of energy as she tapped into the source, feeling the threads of magic dance at her very thought, without having to lift a finger. She finished her embroidery, pulling tight the last leaf on the tree. She brought out a pair of long, silver shears and snipped the final thread.
A long sigh echoed around the house as Avalee sat in her chair. Her eyes unfocused as the hallucination took over. The embroidery was held firm in her hands as the world beyond her porch shifted. Trees regrew around her, back to what they were before the flames took them. The woods darkened as the trees began to block out the fading sunset. A woman stepped out from behind one of the trees, her bright affect instantly bringing a smile to Avalee’s face.
“Lee, have you been sewing in the dark again? You know it’s not good for your eyes.” The woman was short and a bit on the plump side, her curves filling out a set of denim overalls and a soft, knitted yellow shirt beneath. She grinned, walking up to the porch and lighting a lamp a few feet in front of Avalee.
“Hannah,” Avalee breathed. Hannah’s voice was just as delightfully cute as she remembered. Avalee yearned to leave her chair, to drop her embroidery and embrace her, run her hand along the fuzz of Hannah’s buzzcut, but she knew if she got up the spell would break. “Considerate as always.”
“I mean, you don’t have to listen to me. I think you’d look great with glasses. Oh, did I show you? I found a patch of lavender on the southside, I’m going to take a shoot and replant it here tomorrow. I didn’t have my gloves on me, huuuge mistake. Had to lay a thread all the way from there to here so I’d be able to find it again.” Hannah rolled her eyes at herself, and she and Avalee shared a laugh.
“You could have just used your hands,” Avalee said.
“Tons of thistle in the area. I would’ve gotten all scratched up!” Hannah pouted and leaned against the porch entrance. “You would have had to massage the wound cream all over my arms with those strong and nimble fingers of yours…” She smiled slyly, and whispered, “Maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad after all.”
Avalee almost reached forward but stopped herself. She could feel the warmth of the mana stone slowly fading, and the struggles of the fairy itself within her were petering off as well. “Hannah,” she said.
“Yes, Lee dearest?”
“I love you.”
Hannah blushed and looked down. “I love you too.”
With that, the forest bent and snapped back to where it was; burned remnants of a happier time. Avalee closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t wait to go back. She needed another fairy.
She reached out, feeling the lines of magical thread leading to the trap she set and was pleasantly surprised to feel the fluttering of something living on the other end. The trap was sprung.
Avalee put her sewing down and walked off the porch into the now moon-lit woods. It was time to collect her prey.