Hunting Permits

[script offer][m4f] Hunting Permits [RAPE][mdom][older listener][praise][abducted by fairies][sporadic poetry]a little[size kink][body betrayal][fantasy]


[feel free to change things around and riff as you like! I do not give permission for this to be posted anywhere but reddit and soundgasm]

[you are a powerful eldritch creature who has found something that absolutely delights them in their trap. I sort of envision this at night, in a forest, so if you wanted to do some background noise, that's the bg noise I imagined.]

[poem at the beginning is WB Yeats The Stolen Child]



Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, o human... Oh, well. You certainly aren't a child, are you? Not with such silver woven in your crown. But human, yes, human most definitely, I know that smell. More tempting than all of poor Laura's damsons and greengages. And you are here, in this place, at this time. Under this moon, warded with no metal, no rowan, carrying no salt but the salt in your blood. And you have stepped into my ring.

Oh, it has been so long since a mortal has been so foolish. So very very long since I have been allowed to have one of you for my own.

Stop that. You won't get away. Even if you were willing to gnaw your ankle like a trapped fox, I'm here now. There will be no playing run and chase through the woods tonight.

You should husband your energy. This night will be very long for you. The moon is barely risen, and my appetites are formidable.

Have your eyes adjusted? Mmm. Let me-- Hush, hush, it's alright, it's just a little magic to help you. I would have you see your new master.

There. Isn't that better?

No, there is no more lying to yourself now, is there? My people have a special hatred for lying. Now you see me, you can't think me just some mad human with a bag of tricks. This is real--it is happening--it is happening to -you-.

Are my antlers so eye catching? Would you like to touch them, little human? Be very careful of the points, and maybe I'll be careful of you...

Yes. Quite real. I grew them myself. Do you believe your senses now? You are caught, and soon to be kept.

Oh?

Oh.

[amused:]

You think you can convince me I don't want you. Old compared to what, you darling, dying thing? I knew this birch when she was a catkin. I knew her grandmother when her bark was peeled for baskets. Do you think to impress -me-?

Mmm. And what need have I for a virgin? I didn't set this trap looking for a meal. No, I have gotten what I wanted, and I am well pleased.

Or I will be, soon enough.

What will I do? Oh, what *will* I do, my rarest of rare toys. It has been so long. Our Queen, long may she reign, has set such strict rules for taking human prey. Your world has grown so large, and mine has had to grow so secretive. I will be the envy of every creature underhill.

What will I do? I will sell your hair to goblin tailors, and your tears in elvish markets. This one, it was from pleasure. This one, from sorrow. This one, it fell down her cheek on a night she heard fairy musicians play and danced until her feet bled. I will dress you in spider silk and phoenix down and leather made from the enemies of my house. I will ride with you on ragweed horses. I will feed you on stag heart and elderberry wine. I will be your first thought on waking and last worry before sleeping, and when you sleep, I will laugh in your dreams. I will keep you, little human, I will make you mine.

However--more immediately--my plans are rather more carnal. I will have my first taste of you, here, in this wood, with the moon to witness my claim.

You mustn't look so. I don't displease your eyes, I know that. There is no mistaking me for one of you, I grant, but is that so bad?

[slap]

Little human--I must tell you not to lie to me. I can hurt you so much more than I mean to. You mustn't run from a hound bred to chase, you understand? It will rise from its soft bed by the fire and hunt you as its blood demands. You must not provoke one such as me to violence. I was made for it, and I am so very skilled at it.

Be a smart human. Look at me. Feel my hand on your stinging cheek. Do you feel how small you are? Before me you are the wing of a moth. If you cannot stop your mortal tongue from lying, keep it still. I know where to find the truth I seek.

Down, down, into the leaves--do you gasp at the stars? Are they beautiful, with your new eyes? Or is it something else? Is it my knee, holding your legs apart? Is it my hand--right--here--

[Some sort of pleased/satisfied sound]

Oh, yes. How perfect you are. You mustn't feel guilty. You mortals have always longed for us. You accuse us of traps and trickery and magic--and of course all that is true--but this, this, this is no doing of mine. This is no magic, how your body hungers for mine. How your thighs tremble when I touch you--here--

Yes, just like that. No, my shape does not displease you at all.

Why not let yourself enjoy it? There's no one here to see how you love your master's touch. Why fight it? It's good for you, that you love being a fragile, desperate thing, squirming in the claws of a monster. Because you will never be anything else again. Let your hips thrust against me.

You seem startled. Yes. You feel me. Does it help to know that my kind hunger for yours, as well? The little sprites and goblins mostly just to eat, I admit, but those of us with more brain than an acorn... how could we not want you, you quick burning things? Why do you think I set this ring here, in this place, on this night? I have wanted a human toy for decades.

Enough.

Oh, poor creature. Were you beginning to forget yourself? Forget all this fear, lost in how good it felt to be mine? I am not ready to let you. You may have your release when I've had mine. We are not equals.

Why fight me? I do hope my trap has not caught a stupid mortal. I will still find uses for your body even if your mind is feeble, but they will burn your short life even faster. Unless... you like it. Is that it? Do you like how easily I move you around, how easily you are bent to my pleasure? Spreading you underneath me is as difficult as draping garlands.

Oh. I think you do like it. I think we are very, very well suited.

[pleased noise/laugh]

Feel me, at your entrance. Look. Look how it hungers to split your eager flesh. No, it is not like a mortal man--but you will accommodate me readily enough.

Does it frighten you? But you have learned, I think, that being frightened is not enough to stop your body from reacting. Soon I suppose we will learn if pain does.

[thrusting in, whatever noise as appropriate]

I know. I know. It will be alright. You'll adjust.

[brief length of time of just. enjoying yourself noises. follow your heart]

...Curious that you cry out for your God. She's never answered, not any time I've impaled her children on my cock. Cry out for me, instead. My mercy is the only mercy you might ever get. And when you writhe like that, throwing your head back in the dirt, taking me like you were born for it...

Oh, beg, mortal. Beg for my mercy. Beg me to finish inside you before I give in to the temptation to do worse.

[slap]

-Beg-. While you can still form words. Beg me.

That's it. That's a good little toy. Oh, pretty, perfect thing, how your voice breaks. I will see the rest of you broken, too. You feel so good, squeezing me so tightly.

[sex noises, improv to orgasm]

[heavy breathing, coming down]

[breathless laugh]

Oh, poor little thing. Look at you squirm. Is there something you need, mortal? Is something wrong?

Are you aching? There are tears on your cheeks. But you still tremble like an aspen when I touch you. I should make you beg for this, too... I have gotten too kind in my old age.

Here. You may grind against me. Take your pleasure. That's it. Too late for pride. Too late to pretend. Just give it to me.

That's it. I love the noises you make. Lying on the ground, leaves in your hair, being so good for your master.

Oh, there you are, that's it. Good little human.

There. Your new life won't be all sour, you see? Come into my arms. Lie against my chest.

You shouldn't weep. This was a sweet consummation. I could have fed you on goblin fruit until you wept for me like an orphaned cub. I could have touched your eyes with dew and honey and made you think you loved me. Instead I took you in plain lust, and gave you honest pleasure. Not every time will go so easily for you.

Mmm, yes, you could run. You know you'd be caught, but you could run... but even if you got away, you would not be free. Now you have tasted. Now you have known. You could leave my arms, but you would always come staggering back. The fae have put their hand on you, now, and you will never be free again. Fairy food is not the only thing to fear.

[little laugh]

Oh, my darling. No more than winter escapes spring. Walk away from me and I will rise in your blood like water under the ice. You will feel me in you like the sap beginning to run in the maples. You will hunger for me, green and early spring hunger, and you will not be able to claw me out of you any more than you can scrape the marrow from your bones.

This is your home, now. Lie with me, awhile. Get your breath back. Soon I will want you again, and this time I plan to linger.