Pixies Reward

ONE

Duncan had been driving home from the factory in the wee hours of the morning when he encountered a pixie. It smacked against his windshield with a rather loud "THWAP!" as he idled at a stop light. The pixie groaned as her form splayed almost comically across the glass. Duncan frowned and observed the small creature with that perfect deadpan look only those tired to the bones, yet not in a position to fall asleep, can master. He put the car in park long enough to step out and scoop the small thing up, before depositing it on the passenger seat. He then drove the rest of the way home, ignoring the impulse to question his sanity. Such lines of inquisition could wait for a better time, one when he wasn't having to use most of his willpower to keep his eyes open and on the road.

As he drove home, though, he stole a couple glances at the thing he had rescued. It was the very image of a classical pixie: a fully grown, beautiful woman only six inches tall, wearing a simple green dress, with two sets of translucent, iridescent wings sprouting from her back. Her long red hair came down to nearly her ankles, and her slim, fit figure had a nice set of curves.

She did not awaken as Duncan pulled into the driveway of his small, one-story home. He cupped her gently with one hand as he went inside. Grabbing a clean hand towel, he set up a small "mattress" on the kitchen counter, and lay her down atop it. Then he plopped down on the couch, and turned on the TV. As the sights and sounds of late night programming lulled him to sleep, he wondered if his little hallucination would still be there in the morning.

He was assured of this when, eight solid hours later, he awoke to a tapping on his cheek. With a snort, he blinked awake and nearly leaped out of his skin as he saw the diminutive creature hovering right above his face. Still half asleep, he swatted at it, thinking it was some kind of large bug. She easily dodged his hand, floating up to the ceiling.

"Hey!" she called down, in a voice surprisingly normal sounding for one so tiny. "Careful!"

Duncan groaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up, wincing at his aches. He clicked off the TV, and looked up at the pixie. She smiled down at him, and floated a bit closer. "Crap," he said. "You're real. Does that mean I'm crazy now?"

The pixie cocked her head at him, giving him a curious look. "Why would that be? Have you never seen a pixie before?" She tapped her chin with a thought. "Hmm. I guess you might not have. What realm is this?"

"Realm?" said Duncan.

"Yeah, you know, realm. Plane. World. Planet. Whatever you call it. Where am I?"

"Um, this is the planet Civero. You're currently in the nation of Bellamy. Where are

you

from?"

"I'm from a realm called Arcovia," she said. She floated down to the coffee table, and sat down upon a short stack of magazines. "Sheesh. Civero, huh? That's pretty far from where I was trying to go."

Duncan rubbed his head. "Okay, well, if you got places to go, then I can let you out."

The pixie shrugged. "I'm going to need to wait a while for my magic to charge, before I can try and do another realm shift. Besides, I need to pay you back for saving me!" She flew up to Duncan, giving him a look that was somehow both chipper and stern. "So, I can't leave until I repay my debt! Is there anything you want from me?"

Duncan backed up a step as she flew right into his face. "Um... no... that's okay. Don't take this the wrong way, but I know the old folk tales. I don't need to be getting wrapped up in any shady deals."

The pixie cocked and eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. "Hey, now, I take offense to that! Who told you fairies were shady?"

"Just what the old tales say," said Duncan. He went into the kitchen. "Still, I don't mind the company, I guess. You can stay here for a few days if you need to. Just don't, you know, touch anything."

"That'll be a challenge," said the pixie, eyeing the cluttered house. It wasn't a dump per say, but several clothes were strewn about the floor, and several magazines and comic books were scattered over the tables. She fluttered over to the kitchen counter, and sat on the microwave. "Still, there's nothing I can do for you?"

"Nope," said Duncan. He started cooking some bacon and eggs. "You want anything?"

"Some warm milk and honey would be nice if you have any," said the pixie. She laughed. "But seriously, you can't keep helping me out and not expect me to repay you!"

Duncan shrugged. "I figure I'm still hallucinating," he said, as he poured some milk into a shotglass and mixed it with some honey. He stuck it in the microwave for a few seconds, before setting it before her.

"Why's that?" said the pixie.

"I've just got done with an 80 hour work week," he said. "I figure its delirium from overworking."

"Oh, dear," she said. She stood up and leaned over the glass. Fluttering her wings to maintain her balance, she touched her lips to the surface of the liquid, and drank. She sucked down about half the glass before coming back up for air, wiping her mouth and giving a satisfying gasp, followed by a tiny burp. "Whew!" she said. "That hit the spot!" She sat back down on the towel, a little flushed.

"I'm glad," he said, flipping the eggs and bacon.

"You're very kind."

"Sure. I'm kind to all my hallucinations."

"I'm not a hallucination!"

"That's what they all say."

The pixie pouted and lifted the glass to her lips, using both hands. She then downed the rest of her drink, looking at him thoughtfully. "Well, are you working today?" she said.

"Yes, but not at the factory, thank god," he said. "I need to get some art finished."

"Art?" said the pixie, her features brightening. Her wings fluttered a bit. "You're an artist?"

"Yeah, I draw."

"Oh, can I see, can I see?"

"Sure. Just don't touch anything."

The pixie put her hands on her hips. "Hey, you! I'm not a chaos sprite. I'm not just gunna zip around your home breaking everything."

Duncan chuckled, sliding his eggs and bacon onto a plate. He ate them quickly, standing there in the kitchen, then set the plate and skillet down in the sink, soaking them for later. He walked off to another part of the house and the pixie followed him. "So, you live alone, I take it?"

"That obvious, huh? Guess it has been a few weeks since I cleaned up."

"Does it bother you?"

Duncan paused, then shrugged. "I guess. But I'm so busy with my jobs, I don't have much time to think about it." He opened a door, leading to a small art studio. Several pictures, some black and white, some color, lined each wall. A large, well-lit table sat against the far wall, holding several pages with drawings in various states of completion. He sat down at his desk, cracked his knuckles, and picked up a brush. Dabbing it into some ink, he began to retrace over the lines of pencil on one of the pages.

"So, what is this stuff?" said the pixie. "Looks like a story scroll."

"I do art for a couple comic books," he said.

"Comic books?"

Duncan picked up a magazine and held it up. The cover proclaimed its title as

The Centurions

in a large bold letters; below the title, numerous colorful characters were drawn in a large battle scene. She raised a hand, and the magazine floated out of his grip. She flicked her hand to the side, and the comic opened, slowly flipping pages as if by itself. "This is

your

work?" she said.

"Well, several people's work," he said. "I do the penciling and usually the inking. Another guy does the writing and lettering, and we got two people alternating as the colorist." He shrugged. "We're not with one of the major publishers, exactly, but the title's been going for about fifteen years. I've been working on it for the last four."

"Interesting," she said. She squinted at the comic. "Hmm, I can't read the writing."

"Really? You're speaking Grannin well enough."

"Grannin? Is that your language?" Duncan nodded, and the pixie smiled. "I'm actually speaking in the Etwin Lai tongue. I'm just using a bit of magic to translate our words."

"Convenient," said Duncan. He went back to inking his pages. The pixie watched him work, fluttering around the studio occasionally to look at his other drawings.

"You're quite good," said the pixie. "Your creature drawings are very neat, your men heroic and handsome." She smiled. "And I notice your women are very beautiful."

"Heh, well, it's a superhero comic book," he said. "Everyone's either supposed to look cool or gorgeous, preferably both. Scary, if they're a bad guy or something."

"I see," said the pixie. "So, tell me, which of these women do you desire the most?"

Duncan blinked and paused mid-brush stroke. He turned and looked at her. "Excuse me?"

The pixie motioned to the posters of some of the superheroines. "These women you draw. Which would you most desire?"

"Um, they aren't real," said Duncan, giving her a curious look.

The pixie shrugged. "But if they

could

be, who would you desire?"

"I don't desire any of them," he said.

"I see." She floated up to a poster where three of the heroines were posed in a fairly erotic fashion, dressed in skimpier versions of their standard hero costumes. They each gazed at the viewer with lascivious looks. "Then why do you draw them like this?"

Duncan sighed. "Well, because, that was for a, you know, a swimsuit issue sort of thing." He waved it off. "You know, one of those cheesy gimmick comics, for teenaged boys to drool over."

"Or guys who live alone?"

Duncan almost flinched at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The pixie floated over to his table, sitting on the top of its slanted frame. "Only that a workaholic bachelor must feel rather lonely. Don't think I didn't notice the kind of magazines you had lying around."

Duncan blanched. "Wonderful. My hallucinations are now judging me. I truly have snapped."

The pixie sighed, flew up to his face before he could react, and bopped him on the nose with her fist. Duncan flinched. The blow actually stung a bit, though not badly. "I am

not

a hallucination!" she said with a huff, her hands on her hips again.

"Okay, okay, sorry!" said Duncan, rubbing his nose. He gave her the first hard look since he'd "met" her. He swallowed. "So you're really a pixie?" He held up his hand and she dropped onto it, standing tall on his palm. "Wow. I, uh, I don't know what to say..."

"Answer my question," she said. She motioned to his drawings. "Which of these women do you desire?"

"Why do you want to know that?" he said.

"Because I intend to repay you for your kindness, as I said. You saved me last night, when I fell into your world."

"You landed on my car and I just—"

"If you hadn't brought me to your home, I would have spent the night on that road, unconscious, and any stray animal or other danger could have claimed me. But you gave me shelter, and just a few minutes ago, you gave me a meal. I must repay your hospitality." Her wings fluttered and she floated up to his eye level again. "I can tell, you're stressed out, overworked, and lonely. What you need is a little loving. Fortunately for you, I am quite skilled in the erotic arts. I can give you an experience you'll never forget."

Duncan swallowed. "I, uh, I don't know. I mean, I never really thought about—"

"Liar," she said. She floated up and pointed to the poster with the trio of lustful heroines. "Come on. That isn't the drawing of a man who didn't at least consider for a moment what it'd be like."

Duncan blinked, still not fully believing this was happening. Still, he felt compelled to see just how far this craziness could go. He pointed at the figure in the center of the picture, a small and cute, but very fit young woman in a provocative rendition of a ninja's outfit. "Her, I guess. Razor."

The pixie nodded in approval. "Very good. I shall bring to life an illusion of her, and she shall fulfill your sexual fantasy of her."

Duncan nodded dumbly, then suddenly, his eyes widened as the pixie's last words fully sank in. "No, wait—!"

But it was too late. With a wave of her hand, there was a great burst of white smoke. When it cleared, there she stood, in the center of the room. Razor, the ninja girl, with her toned curves and cute face, smiled at him. Duncan's eyes went wide and he gulped.

TWO

Before Duncan could say anything, Razor stepped up to him, picking him up bodily and pushing him against the wall. She kissed him fiercely. With a deft motion, she whipped out her combat knife and sliced off his clothes with impossible dexterity. Duncan briefly wished he'd showered before falling asleep, but Razor seemed not to care about such things. As his clothes fell away, his cock responded quickly to his sudden lover's embrace. He became erect as Razor pressed against him, undulating her body in a way that made him shiver with excitement. One hand grasped his balls, while her other hand cupping the back of his head; she kissed him so passionately, it stole his breath away. Duncan noticed the pixie, watching with fascination. She seemed almost confused, perhaps wondering at Razor's aggression.

Duncan blushed at the idea of being watched, and then winced, as he felt something cinch tightly around the base of his cock. Razor pulled away. Trailing from her hand was a thick wire, which she had deftly looped around the base of his cock and testicles, then around each separate testicle, then once more around his cock just above his balls. She made a tug on the wire, and Duncan let out a gasp as the loops tightened around his cock.

"Now, then, boy," said Razor, her voice at once commanding and sultry. "On your knees."

Duncan obeyed, knowing any protest was futile. He felt himself go flush with arousal as he kneeled before the ninja woman. She stepped behind him and almost faster than he could react to, his wrists were bound behind his back, and then secured to his ankles. He was forced to spread his legs at the knees so as not to fall over. Razor then pulled a strip of black cloth from some hidden pocket, and used it to blindfold him. The last thing Duncan saw before Razor covered his eyes was the pixie staring at him with a dropped jaw.

He heard Razor then sit upon his chair. He felt a tug at the wire, and his cock twitched in both excitement and tension, the loops forcing his cock to maximum stiffness. "Come here, boy. You know what to do." Duncan heard a shifting of cloth as he shuffled forward as best he could, bound as he was. When his knees touched the legs of his chair, he felt two strong legs snap closed over his head, and a pair of feet resting on his upper back. Two hands pushed his head down and forward; his lips met the wet, hot folds of Razor's pussy. She tugged on the wire, and his cock jumped again. "Come on, boy," she said.

Duncan kissed her lips and began to lick her. Her scent was lovely and intoxicating, the earthy musk of a woman in heat. Razor threaded the fingers of one hand through Duncan's hair and gripped him firmly, letting out a small gasp as his efforts pleased her. If this really was happening as he fantasized, then her other hand was currently working her breasts. "Oh, yes," she breathed. "Good boy. Good, good boy..."

Duncan moaned in response as he licked her deeper, pausing only to suckle her clit; he rolled it gently between his teeth as he repeatedly thrust his tongue against it, before licking her deeply again. Razor moaned loudly, and her fingers clutched him tightly.

All the while, his cock twitched and throbbed, almost quivering in excitement. As he licked her, Razor would flick the wire, causing it to lightly brush against his cock. It seemed to strike just the right spots in just the right amount, soon causing him to buck into the air. However, the touches were just brief enough, and the wires tight enough, that even though his cock quickly reached a point of maximum tension, swelling to point just before orgasm, not a drop of fluid escaped him. Razor let out a low scream as she came, hard, against Duncan's face; Duncan himself nearly whimpered as his excitement peaked to a point where he should have already had an orgasm. He was so aroused, the slightest touch should have made him cum; Razor's wire flicks should have been more than enough. But the wires cruelly cut him off from that release, making him to buck helplessly beneath her as he was "forced" to please her, over and over.

Finally, after what had to be her tenth orgasm, Razor let him go, pushing him back. She leaned back in his chair, gasping. Duncan, his face covered in her fluids, panted as he remained helplessly bound. His cock was harder than it had ever been in his life, swollen to maximum tension, a livid reddish purple in color. Razor extended one foot towards him and tapped the tip of his cock with her toe. Duncan gasped as he nearly came just from that touch, but again, the cruel wires cut him off. "Not bad, boy," Razor said, leaning down to purr into his ear. "For an appetizer." She slipped off the blindfold, and Duncan could see she had covered herself again, not allowing him to see her breasts and pussy. She smirked as with a flick of her wrist, the wires binding him suddenly became loose. Duncan pitched forward, now on hands and knees, hips jerking, cock twitching.

"Don't cum," said Razor. "Don't you

dare

cum."

Duncan had to bite his thumb to will down the urge to spurt all over the floor. When he finally got himself under control, Razor smiled, and extended her foot once again, patting his cheek with the bottom of her foot. Duncan turned and kissed her, holding her foot lovingly in his hands. "Good boy," she said. And then, suddenly, she vanished.

Duncan gasped in surprised, blinking. The pixie then floated down into view, sitting on the edge of the chair, looking at Duncan with utter shock. "Holy fuck," she said. "

That

was your fantasy?"

Duncan blushed deeply. He realized he was still naked, and he hastily snatched up what was left of his clothes, holding one of the larger strips of his shirt in front of his still throbbing genitals. "S-so what?" he said, not looking her in the eyes. "So I've got a submissive streak! What's wrong with that?" He grew even redder as the pixie exploded into laughter. "Shut up!" he said.

"Oh my god," she said. "That wasn't just a submissive streak! That was downright masochistic!" She flew over to him, zipped to the side so she could see around his cover. "You didn't even get to have an orgasm!"

"Hey!" he said, pressing the cloth closer to himself. "Cut it out!" Despite his attempt to hide, however, his cock was still stubbornly hard, and tented his make-shift cover nonetheless. He started to head out of the room.

"Where are you going?" she said.

"Shower," he said. "And don't follow me!"

The pixie giggled as she watched him go. "Shower, huh?" she floated over to another of his drawings. "Let's see here... ah, she should do nicely!" She pointed at a picture where a woman appeared to be forming out of water and grinned.

Duncan stepped into the shower and sighed as he waited for the water to heat up. His cock and balls ached badly with tension, and he was still flushed with excitement. He could not believe that had just happened. He'd just been sexually dominated by one of his own superheroine characters! He could still taste her on his lips. He closed his eyes and imagined her thighs were wrapped around his head. He reached down to stroke himself, and he knew he'd shoot off in mere seconds.

Suddenly, he felt something grab his hand before he could touch. He's eyes snapped open and he jumped as he saw a woman made of water reaching out of the shower. "R-r-rain?" he gasped. Rain, the woman of living water, smiled and reached out to him. Myriad tendrils of water rose from the tub, snaked around his body, and pulled him in with her. The tendrils pressed him against the shower wall and the woman pressed her body against his. She smiled and leaned forward, kissing him. As she pressed herself against him, his cock slipped into her liquid body, sinking inside until it was lined up with where her pussy should be. He felt the warm wetness squeeze him, just like a real woman's sex. But unlike a real woman, the pussy he felt undulated its walls, stroking him with a rapid, continuous downward motion.