I trembled as the sound of footsteps, soft, padding footsteps, came to my ears. Were they coming back, the ones who had left me tied to this tree? Or was some new anomaly coming to take its toll upon me? Surely anything that lived in this strange forest, with its massive trees and luminescent foliage, could prove a viable threat at any given time. Even more so now that I was tied to a tree with no knowledge of where I was or how I'd arrived there. I looked hopelessly at my survival knife, which lay across from me in this tiny clearing. It may have well been still in its package back at Sports and Outdoors for all the good it did me. My pack had been torn open and raided by the little devils that left me here, and my clothes were long gone.
Always, I've fancied myself quite the outdoors-man. At 5 feet 8 inches, and a fairly muscular build, I've rarely had trouble negotiating the roughness of nature nor any of its living perils. This strange situation in which I now found myself had started as an average expedition for me: a hike into the woods carrying my canoe to a spot where I'd deemed it safest to push off from shore and follow the river up a ways for a little rowing practice, before making camp for the night. What had happened instead was what could only be described as a complete screw-up. The hike went just fine, never any trouble there, but the canoe...
Carrying the canoe was not a big deal. I'd taken a good long time to get used to lifting it properly when I was first experiencing outdoor activity of this sort, positioning it across my shoulders and holding tight to the gunwales. Minding my footing was essentially when walking with the canoe across my shoulders, but I'd grown quite used to the sensation, and when distributed properly, the weight was entirely manageable. After finding the spot I'd designated for launching my craft, I clambered in and set to rowing up river, pulling away from shore to avoid upthrust rocks. The body of water was wide, and after a long while of rowing against the wind and sharp waves tearing the smooth surface of the river, I found that it was even wider than I'd thought. I couldn't see land on either side of me, as though I were in the midst of some freshwater ocean. After a veritable ordeal of paddling toward where I hoped the far shore to be, just to gain my bearings, a dense fog began to roll in, carried by a strong wind that stirred up the river. The already wave-torn, formerly glassy surface of the lake became a roiling tempest of angry waves, tossing me about with such force that even my well-trained grasp couldn't maintain a hold on the oar. Curses flew from my mouth, whipped away by the wind as the oar disappeared beneath the now-eerily dark water.
Desperately, I clung tight to the sides of the canoe, fearing for my life, all pretext of a fun outing into nature forgotten in favor of pure survival. Instinct took over, my primal forces surged to the surface and I clutched with all my might to my boat, my lifeline in this maelstrom. But my resolve wore out quickly, having never been tested in such a way, and a strong wave came crashing toward me, a wave against which I could not hold. The icy water shocked me to the core, my hands lost their purchase upon the canoe's sides, my body whipped back, my head smashed against the stern of the boat.
The warmth of the sun eventually woke me, as did the crowing of a rather irksome bird, whom I sleepily cursed as I opened my eyes. The expanse of land around me was white sand, more pristine than any of those beaches they showed on television as prime tourist spots which no one could ever afford. Far behind me was a tree-line, half-obscured by distance and sand dunes. Immediately beside me was my survival pack, miraculously still in tact, and my canoe, unsurprisingly shattered beyond repair. Checking to ensure that my knife was still at my hip, I shouldered my pack and loped over the dunes in search of rescue, a journey which would inevitably lead me through the tree-line, and into the woods.
The first sign that I was not near my original destination at all, nor even in the same region, was the size of the trees. Twice the height of your average tree, and twice as big around, at least! And though it didn't show up well by day, I could tell that some of the foliage was glowing. Glowing. Just giving off a gentle, warm glow, which intensified as the sun started to slide from the height of the sky. The day was wearing into night, and the strange animal sounds filling the air did NOT make me want to spend a night out here. It was then that I heard the high, female laughter, coming from directly ahead of me.
Parting the bushes quietly, I stifled a gasp at the sight I saw, partially because it was unbelievable and partially because it was unbelievably hot! Nymphs! They had to be nymphs, what else could I call them? Standing about three feet high, some shorter, all of them completely, gloriously naked, their firm bodies pale in the fading light, their firm breasts bouncing as they danced about together. Laughing and prancing, they bounced about the little clearing on their bare feet, leaping higher than any human, spinning about in the air, embracing each other, frolicking with wild abandon. I couldn't stand seeing them and not being nearer to them. Something about them, their beautiful visages, their intoxicating scent, beckoned me like a hand upon my back, pushing me forward.
Not four steps into the clearing and the nymphs were upon me, squealing happily. Covering me with their bodies, giggling ecstatically and smothering me in delirious kisses as they spun me about in dizzying circles, tearing at my clothes and clinging to my body. So much was happening so fast that I could not stop them, not that I would have. I was not operating under my own control, but carried by the momentum of the nymph dancers as they spun with me in maddening circles, their naked bodies pressed against me, their tiny hands holding me as my clothes were whisked away effortlessly.
Only when they moved me back against a tall tree did I begin to protest. My bare back, sore from the beating I'd taken from the storm upon the water, did not receive well the feeling of the rough tree bark being pressed against it. I tried to push the nymphs off of me, but their tiny forms concealed impressive strength. Alone, I could have bested one or two of them, but many of them against a tired, dizzy, aroused me, was quite a different story. Their tiny hands pinned me against the tree as two of the devilish little creatures emerged from some nearby shrubbery clutching a long, thick rope.
Screams filled my throat, but were drowned by their hysterical giggling. The rope was looped about me again and again, starting at my ankles and working its way up, passing around behind the tree at the same time. Now as the nymphs spun and danced about me, they spun the rope about me ever more and more until my body was covered in its unyielding coils. Knotting the rope behind the tree, the nymphs all gathered in front of me to gaze up at their handy work, still chuckling and squeaking with the utmost glee.
"You little bitches," I snarled, "let me go or I will kill each and everyone of you."
"Not if you're tied up, silly man." one of them mocked, sticking out her tongue at me in a truly juvenile taunt.
Again curses left my lips, I heaped countless insults upon the mischievous little demons, who merely continued to taunt me, jeering, mocking me, poking me with sticks, pinching me, or slapping at my face. Fury rocketed through me when the nymphs began to rifle through my pack, taking out the food and supplies and spiriting them away, leaving the watertight backpack as empty as if the storm had ravaged it.
"You can't leave me like this, I'll die!" I cried out.
"You won't die," one of the nymphs explained, her arms about my neck so as to stay at my eye level, "you won't be up here for long, just for the night. Then they'll come for you."
"They?"
"The Big Ones." she replied. "The fighters. They protect us, they'll like you."
