Pixie Magic Ch. 08

Pixie Magic

Warning to Readers: This chapter contains a scene of non-consensual sex. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 8: Ambushed, arrested, and aggrieved.

Saturday.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. My first thought was to let it ring because I was too comfortable to move.

I was naked in bed spooning against Fern's bare back with my morning erection nestled contentedly between the cheeks of her ass. After the third ring, I reluctantly rolled over to answer it.

"Hello?" I said sleepily.

Fern stirred behind me.

"Dr. Monroe?" the voice on the other end asked, "Is that you?"

"Yes," I answered, "Who's calling?"

I felt a warm breath near my ear and a pair of soft breasts on my back as a feminine hand wrapped itself around my cock.

"It's Webster," said the voice, "Someone or something attacked a couple of my cows. Could you come over and take a look?"

I glanced at the clock. It was a little after 5 AM, shortly after sunrise. A wet tongue was licking the ear that wasn't pressed against the phone and that hand on my cock was working its own magic on my morning erection.

"Mr. Judd? Are you and your cows safe?" I asked.

A second hand reached around my chest and caressed my nipples.

"Yeah," Webster said, "Whatever attacked the cows is gone now. Can you get out here?"

The hand that was on my nipple slid down my stomach towards my balls. Fern's breasts and firm nipples rubbed against my back when she moved her arm.

"S-sure," I said, trying to keep from moaning into the phone, "I-I'll be right over."

The hand on my cock pumped a little harder. I felt a small drop of pre-cum at the tip.

"Are you okay, doctor?" Webster asked.

"Y-yes," I said abruptly, "See you soon."

I hung up quickly before letting out a suppressed moan.

Fern was licking and kissing the side of my neck. The hand on my balls had joined the hand on my cock and she was hugging me from behind with both hands pumping away.

"Fern," I panted, "I've got to go."

"But I promised you some intimacy last night," Fern said, resting her chin on my shoulder while still pumping my cock with both hands, "I must have fallen asleep."

"You were tired," I said, getting up with Fern still holding onto me, "You needed the rest."

"Can't we have a little fun together first?" she asked.

"If I leave now, I can get there and back and we can have some time together before opening up the Saturday morning clinic," I said, standing upright, "In the meantime, you can check up on your mother to see if she's alright."

"Fine," Fern said with a hint of disappointment in her voice. She was no longer able to reach my cock and sat up on the side of the bed, "But you'd better hurry back."

"Don't worry," I said, trying to tuck my erection into my boxers, "you've given me plenty of incentive."

I hurried out the door and made it to Webster's farm in less than 20 minutes, thanks in part to the early morning hour and no other vehicles being on the road. Normally it was a 25-minute trip. Even Webster was surprised at how quickly I got there.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, as we walked towards the barn, "I didn't expect you so soon. I heard Sally barking about something late yesterday afternoon, but because I had her inside recuperating from those porcupine quills, I didn't pay her no mind."

Sally was Webster's border collie. I scratched Sally behind her ear.

"Too bad Sally can't tell us what she heard, right?" I said, looking directly at Sally and giving her a subtle wink.

"I heard the truck door slam and a bunch of dogs," Sally barked.

Webster, Sally, and I walked to the barn. Three cows had superficial wounds from animal bites. They could have been dog bites.

"What did you see old gal?" I said to the cow at the first stall.

"It was a man younger than you with four gray hounds. The man ordered those dogs to attack me," the cow mooed.

There could only be one man in the area that fit that description, Randy with his Scottish deerhounds. I wondered why he would attack Webster's cows. As far as I knew, he had no dispute with Webster Judd, and these were not serious injuries, so why would he do this?

"I swear," Webster said, looking on, "if I didn't know better, you'd think that cow was talking to you."

Fortunately, the cows were all up to date on their rabies shots, so all that remained was to tend to their wounds. As I cleaned and started to dress the wound of the first cow, I kept thinking about Fern waiting for me back at my apartment, resenting the distraction of this house call. . . A distraction! That must be it.

I handed Webster the tape, the antibiotic ointment, and the cotton wrap.

"Here," I said, "you can finish this and tend to the other two cows. I've got to get back to the clinic."

"Is everything alright, Doctor?" Webster asked.

"I'm not sure. Call me if you have any problems. I'll come back if you do," I said as I ran to my car.

I drove back to the clinic in record time and found Randy's big black Ford F-450 truck in the parking lot.

When I tried to get inside, I was surprised to find the door locked. I looked in the window but didn't see anyone. I was both suspicious and worried.

I ran to the back of the building and quietly unlocked the back door to the infirmary area. When I peeked in, the first thing I saw was Aine as a doe lying on the floor bleeding from a wound in her chest, gasping for air. As I opened the door wider, there was Fern, naked, pushed against the fence to Aine's pen with her hands zip-tied behind her back and Randy bent over behind her, thrusting away. His hunting rifle was on the cement floor behind him.

Fern was openly sobbing, tears streaming down her face while Randy was forcing himself on her and taunting her.

"Take that, you cunt," he growled, "I know all about you and what you are. It's time you get what you deserve."

I quietly ran to the rifle, picked it up and held it against his head.

"GET OFF HER . . . NOW!" I shouted.

Randy's pants were down around his ankles, and he struggled to his feet. As he stood up, Fern turned around and kicked him hard in the nuts.

Randy doubled over and fell down onto his knees groaning. While he was down, I opened my pocketknife and cut the zip-tie around Fern's wrists.

"Fern, call the State Troopers," I said as I pointed the rifle at Randy, who was still bare-assed and kneeling on his pants and boxers.

"You gonna use that thing on me?" he asked, eyeing the rifle.

That made me think. I was so outraged at Randy, that I didn't think about what I would do if he suddenly lunged at me to grab the rifle. I knew he would have no misgivings about killing me or Fern and he could probably lie his way out of any consequences afterwards if there were no witnesses.

But I wasn't ready to kill a man, even in self-defense. I went to veterinarian school to save lives, even if those lives weren't human. I sure as hell wasn't ready to take a human life.

I lowered the rifle and pointed it at his balls.

"If you move," I said, "I will use this."

The door to the waiting area behind Randy slammed shut as Fern went to call the police.

"You just lost your lease, Doctor," he said.

"And you're going to jail," I replied.

Randy smiled, "We'll see about that."

We waited like that for a few minutes before Fern came back. She made the call and had gotten dressed while she was out.

"The state troopers are on their way," Fern announced.

"Did you know the front door was locked?" I asked.

"No," she answered, "I'll unlock it now."

She turned and went back into the waiting area.

Randy stood and pulled up his pants but made no move towards me. He had a smug look on his face. He just stared angrily at me while we waited for the troopers to arrive. Meanwhile, Aine was still on the floor of the pen, gasping for air, but there was nothing I could do about that for the moment.

Greenwood is in a secluded part of Vermont. The nearest state troopers' barrack was over 30 minutes away. This was going to be a long wait, or so I thought. I was surprised when I saw Greenwood's only police officer, Mason Pierce, walk in with Fern behind him.

Mason drew his pistol from his side holster and pointed it at me.

"Put down the gun, Doctor," he said.

"Officer," I said, placing the rifle on the floor, "when I came in, I found Randy raping my TA."

"He's lying!" Randy snapped, turning to look at Mason, "he tried to shoot me with my own rifle."

Randy bent down and picked up his rifle.

"Hey!" I yelled, "You can't do that!"

"I'll take that Randy," the police officer said, lowering his gun and holding out his hand.

Randy gave him the rifle.

"You're coming with me," he said to me. Then he turned to Randy, "We can see about filing charges against these two later," he said.

"Filing charges against us?" I asked, "We're the ones who want to file charges," I reminded him.

"It's not the way I see it," Mason said, "When I came in here, you were threatening to shoot the mayor's son."

"Officer Pierce," Fern said, "This man came in here with a loaded gun when the clinic was closed and shot my moth—this deer and was raping me when Dr. Monroe saved me. I was the one that called the police."

"We can sort all that out once the charges are filed," Mason said. He then turned to Randy and spoke quietly out of the side of his mouth, "You better leave now," as he gave Randy back his rifle.

Mason cuffed me and drove me down to the police station, which was little more than a small corner office in the municipal building. That same building also housed the mayor's office and the library.

"I'm charging you with reckless endangerment and threatening a man's life," Mason said, once we were both seated.

"Mason," I said, "Why are you doing this? You know this is bullshit."

He smiled. "You picked a fight with the wrong man in this town," he said, picking up the phone, "Just wait until the mayor hears about this."

Fifteen minutes later, Randolph Knox the Second squeezed into the tiny office.

"My son told me how you threatened him," the mayor said, "I'm going to see that you get jail time for this."

"I want to see a lawyer," I said, "It's clear I'm not going to get fair treatment from either of you."

Slap.

The mayor slapped me across the face with the back of his hand.

"Did you see that officer?" the mayor said, pointing his finger at me, "This man threatened me and tried to assault me."

"Yes, I'm a witness, your honor," Mason said, with a conspiratory smile.

"How could I threaten you? I'm in handcuffs!" I protested, "I demand a lawyer."

Slap.

Another slap from Knox. "You shut your mouth, boy," he said, "You're lucky we don't shoot you right here and now for trying to escape."

To underscore the mayor's point, Officer Pierce unholstered his policeman's pistol and placed it on the desk in front of him.

"What do you want me to do with him?" the police officer asked the mayor.

"Keep him here," Randolph, "I'll be in my office. When the state police show up, send him in to see me so I can brief him."

When the mayor left, Mason turned to me.

"You're lucky we don't have a jail or that's where you'd be right now.," Mason said, "We have to rely on the state troopers to lock you up."

It was 40 minutes later that a tall man wearing a trooper's uniform showed up at the door. Mason left me cuffed in the chair while escorting the trooper into the mayor's office. It was fifteen minutes later that the trooper and Mason returned.

"Take those cuffs off him," the trooper said to Mason, "I'll take him from here."

After Mason removed the handcuffs, the trooper took out his own handcuffs and recuffed me.

"I'm Officer Branley," he said, "You're coming with me."

He led me out to his state police cruiser and placed me in the back. As we drove away, he looked back in his rearview mirror.

"I'm taking you back to your clinic so you can make a phone call," he said, "Your girlfriend showed me the surveillance video of what happened this morning and I'm setting you free, but you're still going to need a good lawyer because the mayor and that officer are pressing charges against you."

"My brother's a lawyer in New York, I'll call him," I said.

Officer Branley waited around while I called my brother Benedict Monroe. Ben was a corporate lawyer in New York City and besides being older, he was my best friend since grade school. It turns out, he also had a lot of connections.

"I need to make a few calls," Ben said, "I suggest you get out of there for a few days until I can connect you with a lawyer friend of mine in Vermont. We'll also get an injunction against further charges from those weasels who run that town."

"Thanks, Ben," I said, "I knew I could count on you."

"No problem, Bro," Ben said, "Before you leave, send me a copy of that surveillance video for safe keeping."

I emailed a copy to Ben and gave the original to Officer Branley as evidence.

Officer Branley waited outside as I looked for Fern. She was in the infirmary, holding the doe's head in her lap, gently stroking her head and neck. Tears were streaming down her face.

"She's gone," Fern said, "She passed away half an hour ago."

"I'm sorry," I said, tears began running down my cheeks, "I'm really . . . "

Too choked up to finish the sentence, I put my arms around Fern's shoulders. We stayed like that for a few minutes until I broke the hug.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"Get a box with a lid," she said, "about the size of a shoebox."

"Is an actual shoebox okay?" I asked.

"That would be fine," she said, getting up slowly while gently laying the doe's head on the straw bedding.

When I came down from my apartment with the shoebox, Aine was back in her 3-inch pixie form, lying still on the straw where the doe had been. Aine's wings looked different. No longer appearing like the Eastern Yellow Swallowtail butterfly wings, it was mostly green with elements of blue and yellow. Fern carefully picked up the small body and placed in inside the shoebox, which I had lined with cotton balls.

I packed a small suitcase with a few changes of clothes and put the shoebox and the suitcase in my car and followed the state police car out of town.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked Fern.

"There's an old dirt logging road up ahead on the left," she said, "Turn off there."

A mile later, we made the turn and followed the dirt road for about 3 miles until the overgrowth made it impassable.

Fern got out and took the shoebox. I reached for the suitcase.

"Leave it," she said, "Just follow me."

We followed what was left of the dirt road, which was now just a vague trail, for over an hour before Fern turned to the left and climbed up over a ridge.

Several birds announced our presence, but most of the animal chatter centered around food or sex.

We picked up a small stream on the other side. We followed the stream for an hour until we came to a clearing where the stream cascaded down among a series of rocks, forming several pools.

"This place looks familiar," I said, the first words spoken in the past two hours.

"It should," Fern replied, "this is where I took you to bathe."

"It looks so different from this height," I remarked. That "rocky hill" I climbed at three inches was nothing more than a 5-foot rise from a series of small boulders.

It was 20 minutes later when we came to the hemlock clearing. Fern put the shoebox down on the soft pine needle ground and sat down on the rock. I sat down next to her.

I looked at the box on the ground and realized we were going to need to bury it.

"I should have brought a shovel with me," I said.

Fern saw where I was looking and gave me a sad smile. "We don't need it, that's not the pixie way," she said.

We waited in silence for several minutes. Finally, Fern called out.

"Where is everybody?" she yelled.

Within minutes, small creatures with butterfly wings seemed to come from everywhere all at once. The hemlock clearing was suddenly filled with all sorts of noises.

"Fern, you're back!"

"Hello Fern,"

"Hello Skyler!"

"Hey Sis."

"Hi cutie!"

All of Fern's siblings seemed to be talking all at once. Thanks to my adventures last weekend, I could pick out individual pixies and recognize the variations in their tiny voices.

"Quiet please," Fern said loudly, "I have some sad news."

"Sad?" "What, what is it?" "Tell us!" "What's wrong?"

Those remarks and a chorus of rejoinders were from the pixies fluttering about.

"If you all would just fly in place and be quiet, I'll tell you," Fern said.

To their credit, the pixies stopped talking and hovered at eye level in front of us.

"This morning, a bad man shot our mother," Fern said sadly, "She's dead."

Commotion erupted. The pixies all started talking all at once.

"He also attacked Fern," I added loud enough to be heard above the din.

The pixies went quiet once again.

"He was going to kill me," Fern said, "I would be dead too, if Skyler hadn't come along when did."

The pixies landed on the ground around the shoebox. Fern lifted the lid and they all peered inside. They wept when they saw her lying there.

"We'll have the funeral tonight and Festival of the Full Moon tomorrow will be in her honor," Fern announced.

"Cal and I will prepare the bonfire," Kip announced.

"Zee and I will help you guys," said Joy.

"The rest of us will work on decorations and refreshments," Holly volunteered.

"Great," said Fern, "Everyone meet back here at sundown and we'll start the procession."

The pixies scattered, leaving Fern and me alone.

"Are you okay after what Randy did to you?" I asked Fern.

"I think I'm still in shock," she said, "I was more upset with what he did to my mother to pay much attention to what he was doing to me."

I put my arm around her.

"What can I do to help you?" I asked.

"Just hold me," she said, "I feel safe in your arms. He was just getting started when you stopped him."

"I wish I could have gotten there sooner," I said.

"How did you get back so quickly?" she asked me, "You weren't even gone an hour."

I explained how Webster's dog and cow told me who had attacked them. That's how I figured out it was a distraction to get me away from the clinic.

"But how did Randy know that the doe was back in the infirmary?" I asked.

"He also knew that we were both pixies," Fern said, "How could he have known that?"

"Do you think that's why he had your hands tied behind your back? So you couldn't throw pixie dust?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Fern said, "But that makes sense if he knew about pixies."

"Fern," I said, removing my arm from around her back, "It's going to get dark soon. I'm going to need to find my way back if I'm to find a place to sleep."

She kissed me softly on the cheek.

"I was hoping you'd join us for the funeral. As my mother's doctor, it's only fitting that you should be there," Fern explained.

"I'd be honored," I said solemnly.

Afterwards, you can spend the night in the oak tree with me," she said, "You have a way of making me feel safe and secure. And tomorrow I want you to join me as the guest of honor at the Festival of the Full Moon."

"After hearing you talk about it, you've got me curious," I admitted.

"Great!" Fern said, breaking into a smile, "The first thing we have to do is to get you down to pixie size."

"What? Wait! No!" I said, but I was too late.

With a quick hand movement, Fern threw a handful of pixie dust in the air over my head. Even though I was seated on the rock, I felt the sensation of falling down as the hemlock trees around me suddenly seemed to grow bigger until my clothes obscured my view.

When I stopped shrinking, I was sitting naked inside my shorts and boxers on top of the rock.