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Alinda's parents had always warned her not to cross the hedge at the edge of the forest, or she'd be taken by the fairies. When they went to the forest to gather wood or poach woodcocks, they'd go down by the two oak ford, or up to where the high road went into the forest, but never through the hedge, even if they wound up right where they would've been if they'd gone through the hedge.
It seemed silly. Not because fairies weren't real—the people who thought that didn't spend much time alone in the wood, or they didn't stop and listen when they were alone. Alinda did and did, and she'd seen the fairies. No more than a foot tall, most of them less. Perfectly formed, with pointed faces, laughing eyes, and wings like bluebirds or butterflies. Always at the corner of her vision, darting away whenever she looked at them directly.
But Alinda was almost fully grown. How were they supposed to take her? And why only if she crossed through the hedge? If they didn't want her on their side of the hedge, they could've taken her when she'd gone in by the high road to gather wood, and had fallen asleep beneath a great old linden tree—when she woke up, half a dozen of them were watching her from up in its boughs, but they vanished as soon as she looked at them.
So when her chores took her into the great forest, and when nobody was watching, she'd cross through the hedge. It wasn't a thick hedge, and it was better than having to walk an hour out of her way to slosh through the cold water at two oaks, or going up to the road and risking being attacked by whatever stranger or bandit happened to be lurking there. And the fairies didn't take her. She saw them more often, and they'd linger longer before they fled, but that was probably just because they'd got used to her.
The next time she fell asleep on the bed of moss under that linden tree, though, it was different. Instead of half a dozen fairies up in the boughs of the tree when she awakened, there were twenty, maybe thirty. They fluttered up when she looked at them, but they didn't leave. One of them even came down lower, on black and gold wings. It wore a cunning little shift, and pointed boots sized for its little feet. It even had a knife in its belt, no longer than a cut fingernail.
She was beautiful, though, in miniature. Small rounded breasts, skin clear and fair under the bright blue of its shift. And she smiled at Alinda as Alinda reached out toward her, mischief in her swirling eyes, darting just beyond Alinda's grasp.
Alinda barely noticed when another of them landed on her shoulder, it was so light and so small, and she was so fascinated by the little beauty hovering in front of her. But she turned her head and saw that the one on her shoulder wore a peaked cap with a dragonfly's wing set in its band. Alinda laughed as the fairy took hold of the shoulder of her blouse and strained upward, feathered wings beating furiously.
She didn't keep laughing after another one grabbed hold, and another. They were so lovely, and such perfect copies of people, but she couldn't stay with them—the sun was setting, and her mother would be furious if she was late for dinner, out in the forest. She tried to brush the fairy off her shoulder, but two others fluttered in, and grabbed hold of her hand before she could reach him, pulling it back. Two others took her other hand, and more grabbed onto her blouse and her arms and wedged themselves in between her arm and her side, warm as rabbits.
They lifted Alinda off the ground. One of her shoes fell off, landing silently on the moss, and she was flying, she was flying like a bird, held up by fairies whose tiny hands pulled at her everywhere, straining up at her clothing and everywhere they could grip—on her ears and her fingers and the toes of her left foot, where her shoe had fallen off.
They lifted her up into the tree, and others swarmed around her, looking, and, when they grew bolder, touching. Soft touches and sharp pinches, on her cheeks and her arms and legs. Alinda started twisting, but she couldn't escape. And if she did, what then? The moss below was soft, but if she fell from that height, she'd break all her bones no matter how soft it was.
The first one, with the black and gold wings, came through the swarm of fairies. She smiled at Alinda, still filled with mischief, and though Alinda was starting to get frightened, really frightened, she couldn't help smiling back at a smile like that. Then the little fingernail knife came out, and even though it was tiny, it glinted bright in the sun, and it cut through the seams of Alinda's blouse so quickly it was like they weren't even there. The blouse fell away from her, fluttering down that long way, all the way to the ground, and Alinda felt the cool of the evening air on her chest and her back, along with all the swirling eyes of the fairies. Then their hands were on her back, tracing the line of her spine, down to the top of her skirt.
On her back and her breasts. Those seemed to fascinate the fairies—they pulled at her nipples hard enough to make her cry out. Then one of them perched on the slope of her breast, doffed a little cap to her, and then turned and bit her. Hard, but not quite hard enough to break her skin. She yelped, and the fairies all laughed, high and light and silvery. Another one bit her the underside of her arm, while several of the fairies held it out away from her body, and she yelped again, to more laughter.
She closed her eyes, held in the air by two dozen strong, tiny hands, twisting as much as she could but unable to break loose or to do anything as that tiny sliver of a knife cut the drawstring of her skirt, and through the lacing of her smallclothes. More hands, further down. More bites. One just at the inside of her hip, and even though she hadn't seen it when it had happened, she knew that it had been the one with the black and gold wings, and she knew her cry would make the fairy grin.
It hurt, and she was frightened, but it didn't just hurt. Those hands were smooth and soft, and they were feeling her breasts and the insides of her thighs, and the lips of her pussy, pulling them open, licking with dainty tongues, feeling with gentle hands. Alinda wanted them to stop, but she was also breathing hard, flushed with heat, despite being all but naked in the cool of the twilight.
When she opened her eyes again, black-and-gold was back, watching her face as three other fairies braided her hair like sailors braiding ropes. A cloud of glowing lights had gathered around them, will-o-wisps of soft blue and green. When she looked closer, Alinda could see that each of them was a lamp held by a hovering fairy. Hundreds of them had come out to watch . . . whatever it was that was happening to her.
Two other fairies flew up next to black and gold. One had large, soft-looking moth's wings, and the other, curling red hair and robin's wings. Between them they carried something almost as large as they were.
It was a seed, maybe? Definitely a seed, although it was longer and narrower than most seeds that big--like a giant dandelion seed, without the fluff that dandelion seeds had. Alinda looked quickly over to the black and gold fairy, who threw back her head and laughed. Then the knife came out again, and snipped away two of the long narrow braids the fairies had been making of her hair. They had braided them like sailors braiding rope, and they used them like braided rope. As Alinda watched the goings-on, lips parted, two teams of fairies pulled it tight across her mouth, forcing it further open. She tried to spit it out, but they held firm, and then started pulling down on it, on her lower jaw.
There were other fairies holding her head, and her hair, and then there was another of her braids in her mouth, this one pulling up on her upper jaw. Alinda's eyes went wide, and she tried to bite down, tried to turn her head away. The fairies were having none of that. That giant dandelion seed went into her mouth, and then further into her mouth.
It was harsh and rough against the back of her throat. Alinda gagged and choked and tried to spit it out, but she couldn't. They were going to choke her and she was going to die, and--
They pulled the seed out, letting her take a single gasping breath, and then they forced it back in. Again, and again. The touches of the other fairies hadn't stopped, either--if anything, they'd intensified. Hands on her breasts and her pussy and her arse, gentle and teasing and painful, all at once.
When they pulled the seed out and didn't put it back, Alinda couldn't quite catch her breath.
She was slick, and the seed was slick, and the fairies holding her legs pulled them apart. There wasn't anything she could do. She tried, but there wasn't any way to stop it. It hurt as it pushed into her pussy. She'd been with Torr, the miller's boy, and it had hurt with him, but not as much as that. It was thicker, and it pushed in, deeper, and deeper, and Alinda started to scream. The fairies laughed at that, light and silvery. Black-and-gold was still watching her face, smiling, intent. Alinda screamed again as the seed slipped inside of her. And then further inside of her, like she'd swallowed it somehow.
Then the black and gold fairy flew forward, right in front of her, and kissed her on her forehead. And the touches of the other fairies intensified again, bites of small mouths on her nipples, two, three tiny tongues on her clit. It had hurt so much, but it wasn't hurting, and she couldn't. . . she didn't want to . . . she gasped and bucked and twisted, heat growing in her belly.
The thing inside of her seemed to twist at that heat as well. Twist and heat and grow. For a moment, Alinda felt like she might burst, like that was the prank they had played upon her, to plant something in her which would tear her apart. There was a sudden twisting tide of pleasure from inside her, a release that meant that she couldn't breathe, that twisted her toes and tightened her chest. And then the thing burst out from her, long tendrils twisting down from inside her pussy, growing and tightening around her legs, and then up her stomach, to her arms.
The fairies let her struggle against it, with tiny claps and delighted cheers as she tried to hold off the sudden curling of the vines that rose up from her pussy, and the roots which twined down from it. Her legs kicked and her hands pushed, and none of it had any effect; the vines twisted around her, and held her tight. Around her wrists and knees and ankles and then the fairies tightened the grips on her braids again, as the vine pushed into her throat.
Alinda looked out at the fairy with the black and gold wings, who had a sparkle in her eyes as the vine probed into her, and grew. It filled her mouth, tasting green and good, but she couldn't close her mouth, and she had to breathe through her nose.
And one of the roots that had been winding around her thigh wound further up, and started probing into her ass.
If she could've gasped, she would've, if she could've screamed she would've, if she could've twisted, she would've. But she was held there in the air by the fairies, who were holding onto the plant that had wound around her. She could do none of that, as the root pushed in and up, twisting and growing inside of her. The fairies had mostly shifted their grasp to hold onto the plant, rather than Alinda, but their hands were still on her, as we there hands, and their mouths. The fairy with black and gold wings swept in to sit on Alinda's shoulder, to pat her cheek and wipe away her tears as the thing pushed into her mouth, into her ass, and started twisting again inside her pussy.
All around her, the other fairies did the same, touching her harder, spreading her open around the stalk of the plant, tiny hands on her lips and her ass and her pussy. Alinda couldn't help but respond to those touches, couldn't move to avoid them, as it grew more and more intense, until she started to come again, as the plant opened up great yellow flowers above her, in the light of the fairy lanterns. She convulsed and writhed, over and over again, the plant pulsing inside of her, the fairies on her nipples on the arch of her pussy, everywhere, so soft and so hard, and they would not stop, and they would not stop.
The last thing Alinda saw was the fairy with black and gold wings, leaning forward to give her a kiss on her eyelid, as Alinda fluttered and convulsed, and the world spun around her and went dark.
When Alinda awoke, she was alone on the moss beneath the linden tree. Her clothing was laid out neatly beside her, all the seams and strings mended so well that it all might have been a dream, were it not for the perfectly formed bite marks on her, were it not for the braids in her hair, were it not for the thistledown on her shoulder, and the tiny black and gold feathers that had been left on her blouse.
Alinda got dressed, slowly, and started the long trudge down to two oaks, with the wood that she had gathered. It was going to be difficult to explain what had happened to her parents. And it was going to be difficult to decide whether she would ever go back through that hedge or not, now that she knew what it meant.