Charlottes Dilemma

This is my first attempt at modern fantasy story. I've always been intrigued by stories of the Fae but my knowledge of folklore and particularly Scottish folklore is far from perfect. So please understand that this written as a fictional romp which draws on folklore for its inspiration.

Let me know what you think. Especially if you'd like to hear more.

BF

*******************************************************************************

Chapter 1

Charlotte St Clair listened to the radio as she made the long car journey back to Duntoolin from Edinburgh. She'd gone to the city the day before and stayed overnight in order to deliver some of her paintings to a gallery off Princes Street the following morning. Tourists seemed to like her highland landscapes, Americans and Japanese especially. Hopefully this batch would sell quickly. She could do with the money to help pay off some of the debt she'd built up as a student.

Duntoolin wasn't much more than a speck on a map of the western highlands of Scotland. About eighty miles from Inverness, it was a wild and remote place with stunning scenery. In summer, the small town was popular with visitors, but in the winter few people ventured there who didn't have to. Charlotte was used to its changing seasons. She'd grown up in the town and now, after a few years in London, she was back there again and living with her parents.

The drive took the best part of four and a half hours and, when she arrived, Charlotte had just enough time to change before getting back into the car and driving to the town's one hotel and bar, the Duntoolin Arms. To bring in extra cash and because she had time to fill, she'd taken on some evening bar shifts. In the summer months they were always looking for staff and it was a good way of getting out of the house.

On a warm evening in July the bar was full of hikers, with a sprinkling of locals thrown in. Charlotte was the only barmaid on duty and worked off her feet pulling pints.

At around eight, Angus MacTool, the Laird of Duntoolin's son walked in. He was a good-looking young man, tall, blonde haired and strappingly built. Although he was the Laird's son you wouldn't have known it, he'd no airs and graces about him.

"Evening Charlie. Pint of the usual please," Angus said jovially. Then, looking around at the packed bar, he added cheekily, "Quiet night, so quick as you can. I've got a real thirst on."

"Fuck off, Angus," Charlotte told him sarcastically. "I'm worked off my feet here."

"You should have a word with the management," he joked.

"They're just a bunch slave-drivers," Charlotte quipped back.

"Want a hand?" Angus asked in a conciliatory tone.

"Please."

The hotel, in common with most of Duntoolin, was owned by the estate and although it had been leased out to tenants, nobody was going to stop the Laird's son from working behind the bar if he wanted, especially when he was doing everyone a favour. So, between them, Charlotte and Angus worked the bar until they rang the bell for last orders.

It was eleven thirty before they'd collected the empties and tidied up and Charlotte was feeling exhausted after her day.

"Fancy going for a drive?" Angus asked with a glint in his eye.

"Always," she replied, perking up instantly.

They got into Angus' Land Rover and he drove them to a point overlooking the loch. He produced a blanket from the back of the car and lay it out on the ground. It was a warm clear night and the stars shone brightly above them as they began to make out.

"How did it go in Edinburgh?" Angus asked as Charlotte unbuttoned his shirt.

"Fine," she said focussing on the task at hand.

"We don't have to fuck," he told her, grinning. "I mean, not if you don't want to."

"Angus, I'm gagging for it. You know I am," Charlotte said impatiently.

To demonstrate her eagerness, Charlotte pulled off her jeans then mounted Angus before he'd managed to completely remove his own trousers. She reached down for his cock and wanked it a couple of times but he was already stiff and so, without any foreplay, she sank herself onto him.

Angus' cock was even more well-built than he was, in fact it was the largest Charlotte had ever had. Both of them sighed as it filled her vagina. She bent her body forward to kiss him, letting her flame red hair cover his face and her delicate breasts push against his masculine chest.

Angus grabbed her cheeks and began to thrust into her urgently, causing Charlotte to grab hold of his shoulders to steady herself. Charlotte desperately needed relief. She hadn't had sex in three days and as Angus forced his cock deep into her, she felt as if she was going explode if she didn't cum soon.

"Take me from behind," she told him, climbing off and positioning herself on all fours.

Angus got up and knelt behind her then lined his cock up with the entrance to her pussy. But instead of immediately pushing in he teased her, just rubbing the head along the folds of her labia. Charlotte tried to push back and impale herself on him but, every time she did, he would pull away.

"Angus please," she pleaded. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Angus chuckled. Then, grabbing her hips tightly, with the force of a bulldozer he rammed his cock into her and pumped her for all he was worth. Charlotte wailed at the onslaught, waking the local wildlife for miles around. She was lost to the pounding and begged Angus not to stop as her orgasm ripped through her body. Angus kept pumping for all he was worth until suddenly he slowed. His strokes became shallower then his balls went into spasm and he emptied himself into her.

The two of them collapsed on the blanket, Angus still on top of Charlotte, his cock skewering her to the ground. Only when he went soft did Angus lift himself off and lay on his side next to her. Charlotte turned onto her back and let him fondle her breasts as they kissed. His cum began to seep out of her pussy, dribbling down between her thighs and causing her to giggle. Charlotte felt rejuvenated. All traces of her tiredness from the journey had disappeared.

"I needed that," Charlotte admitted.

"You could have it any time you wanted," Angus told her, "If you'd marry me."

"Your parents would never agree," Charlotte said avoiding the implied question

"That's not true. They love you."

"Who wants a basket case for a daughter-in-law?"

"If they did agree, would you marry me?"

"I'd give it serious consideration," she laughed. "As long as you promised to fuck me regularly."

Chapter 2

Charlotte and Angus had been seeing each other for just over six months. They'd become an item almost as soon as Charlotte had arrived back in Duntoolin. It was the rekindling a romance they'd begun when they were teenagers.

Now both twenty-three, they'd been in the same year at school and had known each other almost their entire lives. As teenagers, there'd been a group of them that had hung around together. But Charlotte and Angus had always had a special connection. After college, most of the rest of the group had moved to one of the big cities. It was just the two of them left in Duntoolin now.

They'd first had sex when they were eighteen, during the long summer vacation before Uni. What had begun as a pact between friends to rid each other of unwanted virginities turned into something more for a few short months. Then Angus went off study in Edinburgh and Charlotte to London where they both began dating others.

Charlotte had won a scholarship to the London College of Art. She was a talented artist and sailed through her course, earning a few commissions from some prestigious galleries along the way. Moving to the big city opened Charlottes eyes to the world outside of Duntoolin and she embraced her new found freedom with open arms. The fact that she embraced quite a few of the boys at college with open legs earned her a bit of a reputation, but Charlotte seemed not to care.

In her final year at college, she'd met Mark in a bar one evening. Mark was five years older than her and already a successful futures trader in the city. He was far more worldly and experienced than the naïve Charlotte who was captivated by his urban sophistication. He introduced her to swinging and a few of his other darker perversions and Charlotte took to them all like a duck to water.

But Mark had a controlling personality and unfortunately Charlotte couldn't see it. All she wanted to do was please him. Gradually he took over her life, isolating her from her friends. The only person she kept in contact with was Angus, who'd she'd email on her phone secretly when Mark wasn't around. But she never admitted to Angus how controlling Mark had become.

After finishing her degree, Charlotte moved into Mark's up-market Docklands apartment. By this stage he was basically using her as his sex toy, but she still couldn't see it. But then something changed and one day, out of the blue, he dropped a bombshell. He wanted to end the relationship. She was 'addicted to sex' he told her, 'a nymphomaniac who needed professional help' and that was that.

Charlotte was devastated. She moved out of the apartment and found a place to rent on her own. However, Mark had dented her confidence so badly that she withdrew into her shell, just leaving the apartment to buy food and art supplies. She became depressed, her health began to suffer and she lost weight. She was constantly tired and yet she found she couldn't sleep.

When Charlotte stopped mailing Angus and wouldn't return his call or texts, Angus became worried. His first thought had been to talk to her parents. But it was his step-mother, Elise, who convinced him to drive down to London and visit her. She even offered to come with him to share the driving and the two of them left the next day. When they saw the state Charlotte was in, they packed up what belongings of hers they could and brought her home with them.

Charlotte moved back into the cottage her parents rented from the Duntoolin estate. Her father was a forester for the estate while her mother worked at the bakery in town and they'd lived in the cottage all their married lives. Charlotte had fond memories of her childhood there.

Every day at lunchtime Elise called in to see Charlotte, and Angus called in the evening. But after the first week, Charlotte was no better. The local doctor called on her and could find nothing obviously physically wrong. He prescribed some anti-depressants but Charlotte refused to take them.

It was Elise who suggested to Angus that perhaps he should take Charlotte out for the day. Charlotte's parents agreed, desperate to try anything that might work. So, Angus took her for lunch at the hotel in Torridon twenty miles away. To the other diners, Charlotte's emaciated looks and sallow complexion must have made her look like a druggie, but to Angus she was the childhood friend he'd always felt protective of.

On the drive home afterwards, Charlotte told Angus everything about her life in London. Angus was a bit shocked to hear about her sex life but, for some reason, not entirely surprised. He found himself a bit aroused by what she told him and wished it had been him, not Mark, she'd been with. Then came the tears. Angus pulled the car over and held Charlotte's hand, trying to comfort her as best he could. One thing led to another and they kissed then, afterwards Charlotte begged Angus to have sex with her and, despite his better judgement, Angus couldn't help himself. They did it on the back seat of his Land Rover, twice.

When Angus got Charlotte back to her parents' house she went straight to bed and for the first time in months slept soundly. In fact, she slept for almost a day. Her parents began to worry she wasn't going to wake up but, when she called the next day, Elise reassured them it would be fine. Then, mid-afternoon, Charlotte woke up and it was as if someone had flicked a switch. The light in her eyes had returned.

Chapter 3

Charlotte woke up alone in Angus' bed. She could smell him on the sheets and it made her horny. He'd had an early meeting with some contractors on the far side of the estate and had left her to sleep. Charlotte wished he'd woken her up and fucked her before leaving, but it had only been a few hours since they'd had their moonlit fuck by the Loch and she did need her sleep.

Charlotte had been staying the night with Angus more frequently of late. He lived in what used to be the groom's quarters of Duntoolin castle's old stable block. It wasn't particularly grand but it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer and gave them the privacy they needed. The stables stood a little way from the main castle where Angus' parents, the Laird and his wife, lived but an astute observer couldn't have failed to spot Charlotte's car parked outside.

Charlotte's parents had mixed feeling about her seeing Angus but accepted it because, from the moment they hooked up, it was clear to all that Charlotte's health had improved. Angus obviously had a good effect on her but they worried about where the relationship was going and feared what a break-up could do to her mental health.

What Angus' parents thought of their relationship, Charlotte wasn't sure. Angus' father, the Laird of Duntoolin and a chieftain of the MacTool clan was always pleasant to her, but Charlotte worried he didn't view her as suitable marriage material for her son. The Laird's wife, Angus' step-mother, Elise, was a different story altogether though.

When Angus had been eight, his biological mother was diagnosed with cancer. She'd fought it bravely but, less than a year later, had succumbed to her illness. Elise, had been employed as nanny to the young Angus while his mother tried to beat the terrible disease and stayed on after she died.

Elise had only been nineteen when she'd arrived at Duntoolin Castle, a wisp of a girl with flaming red hair. As can happen when people are thrown together in adversity, she and the Laird formed a bond, despite the fifteen-year age gap between them. When Angus was sixteen, they got married and Elise became Lady Duntoolin.

Everybody liked Elise. To Charlotte and the other kids her age, Elise was somewhere between Angus' mother and his older sister. As they grew up a lot of the boys had a thing for her. Elise had always had a soft spot for Charlotte though and would invite her over for tea when she baked. Charlotte loved Elise's flowing red hair, hoping that hers would look the same when she grew up, which it did.

As Charlotte began the walk of shame to her car that morning, Elise appeared and called over to her.

"Fancy a cup of tea?" she asked.

"Oh. Hi Elise. I'd love one," Charlotte said slightly guiltily.

Charlotte followed Elise into the castle's perpetually warm kitchen, with its old peat fired Aga and Elise offered her a chair while she put the kettle on.

"I've got time for quickie before I go out, if you like darling," came the unmistakable brogue of the Laird as he entered the room, instantly looking sheepish when he saw Charlotte.

"We've got a visitor darling," Elise replied not missing a beat.

"Hello there Charlotte," the Laird said giving her an embrace.

"Good morning, Laird," Charlotte replied, surprised at the show of affection.

"Call me Duncan," he replied. "At least in private."

"Charlotte and I are having the chat, darling," Elise informed her husband.

"Ah right. Well, I'll leave you to it then," he said passing through the kitchen and giving his young wife a kiss as he left.

It had been an odd turn of phrase, Charlotte thought, 'the chat' rather than 'a chat', but she didn't attach too much significance to it.

"A quickie?" Charlotte teased when the Laird had gone.

"I'm very lucky to have found someone who understands my needs," Elise replied with genuine affection in her voice. "But enough about us, what about you and Angus?"

Charlotte felt desperation in the pit of her stomach.

"Is this where you tell me things are getting too serious?" Charlotte asked, the concern coming through in her voice.

"No, I think you make a lovely couple."

"But what about the Laird?" Charlotte asked. "How does he feel about his son going out with a basket case?"

"You're not a basket case, Charlotte," Elise reassured her. "You just haven't figured out who you are yet and what makes you tick."

"What do you mean?"

"Promise you'll hear me out?"

"Of course."

Elise considered what she was going to say for a moment then began.

"There's no easy way to break this so I'll come straight to the point, Charlotte. You are what used to be called an Oread, or Mountain Nymph. You're descended from the Fae who've inhabited the Highlands for millennia."

"Are you saying I'm Fairy?" Charlotte scoffed.

"No, not a Fairy, a Nymph," Elise reiterated, slightly frustrated by the interruption.

"How do you know this?" Charlotte asked not wanting to be rude to Elise but not taking her seriously either.

The kettle was coming to a boil and Elise turned away from Charlotte to make the tea.

"Well, for a start you have red hair," Elise continued.

"Lots of people have red hair, Elise."

"But you don't have any other body hair, do you?"

It was true, other than on her head Charlotte was hairless. She'd been very self-conscious of it during puberty but considered it a blessing these days compared to having to shave or bikini wax.

"Then there's your insatiable appetite for sex," Elise said bluntly. "There's not a day goes by when you don't want it, is there?"

Charlotte couldn't help feeling that Elise was about to use this against her. But secretly she had to admit she wanted sex more than most girls seemed to.

"Are you saying I'm addicted?"

"In a way," Elise replied. "When you stopped having sex with Mark, you became ill, didn't you?

"Yes."

"And when you started sleeping with Angus you began to feel better again?"

"I guess. But that still doesn't mean I'm an Oreo or whatever the word was."

Elise poured the tea then sat down at the kitchen table and looked Charlotte in the eye.

"You haven't noticed, but since I got up to make the tea, I haven't spoken a word," she told Charlotte but without opening her mouth. "Yet you've understood everything I told you."

Charlotte was gobsmacked. It was a hell of a party trick.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"It's a form of telepathy. All Nymphs are born with the ability. I've been testing you ever since you were a teenager. Little snippets of conversation just to see if the skill stayed with you. It doesn't with everyone. Some are born with it but become more human over time others become more Nymph."

"So, you're a Nymph too?"

"Redhead, no body hair, high sex drive. Ring any bells?"

"Does the Laird know?"

"Of course. It's part of the reason he married me."

"So, when he offered you a 'quickie' this morning..."

"He was making sure my needs were being taken care of," Elise explained. "We Nymphs thrive on sexual energy you see. We store it inside us."

"What, like a battery?"

"More like a super-capacitor but let's go with battery for now. We need regular sex to keep us being, well, Nymphs. The more sex we have, the healthier we are. When our reserves get too low however, like they did for you in London, then bad things happen."

"So, for a Nymph, my needs are normal."

"Very."

"But what about Angus? Does he know I'm a Nymph."

"Of course not. That's up to you, if you want to tell him, of course."

"I don't really have any choice, do I?"

"That depends. You can carry on living your life like you are now, if you want. As you get older your inner Nymph will fade and to all intents you'll be a hundred percent human. Or you can elect to embrace your inner Nymph and be activated. But once you do there's no going back."

"What would Angus want. Would my inner Nymph scare him off?"