Dirty Fairy

"Psst! Jane!"

Hannah glanced around into a bright light. For a second she thought she'd looked into the sun, but she dropped that thought given she was inside. She squinted into the light, unable to glance away, and began to make out a small figure at its centre. A tiny young man that appeared to be... touching himself!

She'd just began to open her mouth when something hit her lips, a splash of hot, sticky mess. Her tongue darted out, magnetized. It tasted like cinnamon. And then, everything seemed to slow down, quieten down. Like she was inside some thick, fluffy cloud...

"Wondering why I called you Jane?"

The figure hovered in front of her, her eyes finally focused. He was maybe three inches tall, dressed in tiny pinstripe shorts and, for some reason, wearing glasses. A set of glass-like wings batted the air behind him. A fairy... up in the clouds...

"Jane. Plain Jane, get it?"

"I'm... not plain,"

The little guy chuckled, swooping in around her head. "Ha! Looked in the mirror lately, Jane? Average height, average weight, sad dank hair, dull brown eyes and – my, my – did you ever have a figure?"

She looked down, her body highlighted by the pure white surrounding her. He... he was right. She was plain. She'd always worried and yet...

"You dress boring and you live boring, Jane. So sad. 's why I've picked you, really,"

"For what?" she ask, lazily

"A little fun. Mischief, you could say. It's quite the fairy cliché, but I'll get over it,"

She listened, panic and stress fading away before they had a chance to take hold. His words floated in the air outside her ears, and she nodded, dumbly.

A flash, somewhere to her left and her skin began to tingle. All at once her jeans began to feel too tight, her shirt started to strain at the seams. She glanced down to see her beanpole of a body inflating like a balloon. The fairy weaved a tiny cyclone around her, snipping as he went. She stood motionless as her tattered outfit fell to the floor.

"Much better,"

She felt bloated for a second, and had lean backwards to stop falling over. A glance down told her why. Two mounds of flesh jutted out from her chest where seconds before there'd been A-cups. The porcelain white spheres stuck out proudly, topped with nipples like cherries on top – and almost the same size in the warm air.

The fairy looked on, approvingly. He scattered a handful of dust in front of her and a mirror formed out of thin air, letting her see his other improvements.

She noticed, with unnerving objectivity, he hadn't stopped at making things bigger. Her waist was now tiny, as if trussed up in an invisible corset. Her hips and bottom flared out, wildly, the last touch on an almost cartoon hourglass figure.

He dropped down onto her impressive bust, kneeling down to brush the skin, his fingers like soft pinpoints on the angel-white flesh.

"Oh, positively some of my best work, Jane. Honestly. You're a work of art,"

His stroking worked to wake her up a little, her eyes snapping into focus again. "How...?"

"It's the fairy cum, Jane. Tasty and useful, see? Jane. Jane. Already I'm sick of it. And Hannah is just awful. Your new name is... Molly,"

This time, his words shot straight through her ears, into her mind, erasing and creating before she could open her mouth. By the time she tried to speak, Molly had forgotten her question.

"What are you doing to do with me?" she asked, without fear.

He trotted over to one of her cherry red nipples and brushed against it. A jolt, white and hot, set off alarms between her legs. "I'm going to play, of course! Mischief, remember?"

His wings fluttered and he shot down beneath her tits, out of sight. But not out of mind, she found out. Her clit was already humming – the sudden shocked of a tongue between her legs made it sing! The heat, like a forest fire spreading out from her clit, started to drag her out of the white cloud and into reality. She could feel him, just under her clit hood, his arms, tongue, legs – so many points! – vibrating against the skin.

She stared down, feeling her clit fill with blood and feeling. Her brand new nipples stood in front of her, screaming for attention and she didn't let them down. Her fingers, nails painted that same cherry red, shot up at her command, and clamping on.

Three infernos now, burning out of control, pulsing with pleasure, setting her body alight. Her skin glowed red, glistened with sweat, longed for touch. Nowhere felt needier than her cunt. The fairy was like some precision guided sex toy on her clitoris, his touch like a march of ants, over and over. Her juices had got mixed into there, too, lubing her up, letting him get quicker and quicker. White began to flash behind her eyes at his touch and her finger squeezes, brighter and brighter, faster and faster.

A still moment of pure ecstasy, every inch of her new body shining white, and then sinking back to earth, every shudder an aftershock of pleasure, raking through her new form.

"Fuck yeah," She hadn't noticed him fly up back onto her chest. He was soaked through with her juices, smiling widely into her glazed-over eyes. "Nowthatis my kind of mischief, eh, Molly?"

She moaned in agreement, leaning back against the bathroom wall. He sat down, crossed legged, and started to lick her sweetness from his skin, hungrily. "And believe me," he smiled, between licks "We ain't even started yet..."