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The Woodcutter
Once upon a time there lived, in a small cottage on the edge of a large, dark forest, a woodcutter. He was a hard-working man, as was his wife; his son, on the other hand, preferred to sleep until lunch-time and then idle the day away writing angst poetry. The woodcutter and his wife would have gladly accepted the son's help in the chores, but they both thought that it was good that he was following an intellectual pursuit rather than vandalising the local village or raising a people's army to seize control of the state. One morning, the wooductter was splitting logs with his axe. He hit the log with such a mighty blow that one half of the log flew into the air and came down upon the top of his head with a whack, knocking him unconscious. His wife found him lying there shortly and helped him to bed. When her son decided to get out of bed, she told him what had happened, and said: "Son, you must go to the Dark Forest with the axe and cut today's allottment of wood for the village." The son grumbled a bit but agreed it was his duty, so he hefted the axe and (after the wife showed him which end to hold) he set off down the trail to the Dark Forest. He passed by the places where his father had been cutting down trees, and decided to keep walking until he found a spot that hadn't been logged; not through any environmental concern, but simply so he wouldn't have to waste any time looking for good timber. He walked for over an hour until he realised he was quite lost; he then sat down, thought about his predicament and decided to wait until the sun started to set and then head in that direction. In the meantime, he started looking about for a tree to cut down. He chose one that looked easy and started hacking away at the trunk. Unbeknownst to him, he was cutting down the home of three Tree-Fairies. They had been off collecting clover-pollen (which is something that Tree- Fairies do, apparently) and came back to their home only to discover that the son had cut it down, stripped off the branches, tied a rope around one end and was towing it away. "Shmuck." said the first Fairy. "Ecologically unsound." said the second Fairy. "The hell with that - he's ripping off our house!" said the third Fairy. The three Fairies put their heads together, agreed that a measure of vengeance was required, and formulated a plan. The Fairies flew ahead of the woodcutter's son and assumed human form in his path, appearing as three beautiful maidens clad in flimsy, gauzy gowns, lounging against treetrunks. As the woodcutter's son found them, they rushed up and bore him to the ground, soothing his protests with kisses and gentle stroking motions of their hands. Within seconds, they had removed his trousers and shirt. The son gasped with amazement; he had dallied with girls in the village before, but none of them were as forward, nor as beautiful, as these! Two of the Fairies held his arms down and applied their beautiful lips to his nipples whilst the third planted a line of kisses down his chest, his stomach and towards his member, which was beginning to respond to their caresses. As it grew, the Third Fairy grasped it firmly and tugged, lowering her lips over the head and touching it briefly with her tongue. Hearing him moan, she squeezed again with her hand and slowly, teasingly brought her lips down over the head, running her tongue along the underside as it slowly forced its way into her hot mouth. While her sisters induced tiny jolts of magic into his body, their lips tracing circles around his nipples, she took his shaft into her mouth, sucking until the head had swelled almost to its limit. She slid her lips down his shaft, squeezing the swollen veins; she grasped his testicles in her free hand and tugged at first gently, and then more insistently, working her mouth up and down, bringing him to the edge of orgasm. Then, eyes glittering, she worked a spell, making his erection grow mightily and press upwards along his belly. His balls swelled until they were larger than his tightly clenched fists; his heels dug into the soft ground and he thought he was going to come, but the three Fairies vanished, giggling, in a twinkling of soft light, leaving him with an erection that would not go down. Embarrassed, he tugged his pants on and limped back home. Seeing the bulge in his pants, his mother shouted at him, thinking that he had been jerking off instead of cutting wood. His face red from shame, he crawled off to bed. And the erection did not go away until three years and three days had passed (mind you, in that space of time, he became a firm favourite of the local village girls). The moral of this story is: don't fuck with the Fairies, or they'll fuck with you. |
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