Rainbow2457
Registered User
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2007
- Messages
- 9
- Points
- 3
Why did the village women tie him here? Deep in this old dark woods?
The handsome dark haired man is simply an innocent traveler. The charming stranger incurred the wrath of some peasant village women by showing favor to me as I served him food and drink in the village pub. Village men say shyly that I am woman of great beauty, blond and shapely and filled with the joy of youth. But surely, the tall traveler meant no harm as he entertained me with his guileless flirtations.
The older village women did not see his flirtations as harmless. They said young maidens like me often fell victim to the lustful desires of such travelers. Although I disagreed loudly as I argued with them to spare the man, secretly I did find myself filled with strange longings for the dark stranger. I suspected the large country women were not as interested in protecting my maidenhood as they were jealous of my petite figure.
The large women accosted the muscular traveler as he traveled on an isolated path away from the village. The women were strong country folk. The ugly hags outnumbered him. The large amount of wine that he drank as he flirted with me as well as his gentile manners for women slowed his defenses. The gaggle of homely bitches overpowered the lone man, bound his arms and brought him deep into these woods.
I followed the group from a distance.
I could hear the women and the stranger arguing in a forest clearing. The old hags made it clear that the only appropriate punishment for a licentious outsider such as the flirtatious stranger would be to leave the big man to whims of the pixie women. Now, being a townsman and having been raised in more enlightened circumstances, the tall man scoffed at the mention of the tale.
But I remembered hearing tell of the forest pixies as a child.
I remembered stories of unsuspecting travelers being captured and driven insane by these miniature maidens. Exactly how the pixies drove their victims mad had been left to my youthful imaginings.
Hidden from the group’s view, I watched as the handsome stranger was further accosted by these leering, vindictive peasant women. The horde of homely women tripped the drunken man to the ground. Some of the burly women sat on the outnumbered man while other women spitefully bound the man’s powerful limbs. The horde of women attacking the stranger was numerous enough that I could no longer see the toppled man beneath them. As the cruel women immobilized the stranger, I found myself wondering if the pixie stories of my childhood might actually be true and guessing at what sorts of magic spells and the like might await the helpless muscular man.
I dismissed my thoughts of pixies as childish foolishness.
I devised a plan to wait until the jealous hags had left. I would then free their handsome victim. And I secretly hoped that he would devise a special way to thank me.
My decadent fantasy was interrupted by the sounds of the hags walking past my hiding place. One of the women carried a fine leather boot that I knew must have belonged to the stranger. A few steps behind her another hag carried the other boot. The outsider’s boots looked large as the wicked hags clutched them in their sun browned hands. I heard one of the homely women snickering about how soft the stranger’s feet were.
I waited a few minutes until I could no longer hear the village hags chattering to each other as they make their way home. I gently pushed down a branch allowing me an obstructed view of the studly stranger.
The dark-haired man is helpless.
The village women bound the tall man to the base of a large tree in a clearing in the middle of the dark forest. The stranger’s strong back is pressed against the smooth bark, his huge arms have been pulled behind him, and his sturdy wrists tied to each other on the opposite side of the tree.
The bondage forces his powerful chest muscles against his torn white shirt. I again feel strange longings as I gaze at the glimpses of his hairy muscular chest. The manner in which he is tied also causes his huge arm muscles to stretch the fabric of his shirt.
I wondered what it would feel like to have his muscular arms around me.
His powerfully built legs are stretched out before him. The ropes that bind his knees and ankles together are tied to stakes that are very deeply driven into the soil. The village women have left their muscular victim completely clothed except that they stripped off his boots leaving the overpowered man barefoot. I suppose the powerfully built man had been left this way to make his walk harder when he finally managed to free himself.
A wide strap of hide has been placed around his forehead and around the tree’s trunk. The ends of the strap are tied together on the back side of the tree. The stranger’s entire body has been rendered completely immobile. The big man cannot even move his head from side to side.
The hags had done their job well.
While I gather my courage to approach him, I stare at the man from my hiding place.
The bound traveler’s sculpted face is beautiful. I remember how brightly his deep blue eyes shined as he flirted with me. His body looks even more muscular as the bondage has pressed his loose clothing tightly against his tall hard body. In spite of my virginal state, my eyes rest for a moment on the large bulge that is made obvious by the ropes that tightly bind his pants to his body. I blush at my desire to see his manhood. I force myself to continue my observations. I am surprised at how massive his powerful legs look now that his clothing is tightly bound to his legs.
My father had left my mother before I was born. And, in her bitterness, my mother shielded me from any contact with men. I had never seen any part of any man’s body. And as I continue to gaze on the helpless stranger, my eyes are drawn to the sight of his bare feet.
His naked feet are large as one who expect on such a tall muscular man. The soles of his feet are wide and topped by large plump toes.
I am surprised how different the bottoms of his feet look from what I had expected.
Unlike his hard-sun-tanned body, the soles of his feet appear pinkish and pale. I remembered again the hag snickering about soft the stranger’s big feet were. I wondered if the handsome man felt humiliated by some ugly crone stripping his boots from him. I imagine what he must have thought as the ugly hag fondled his bare feet after he was helplessly tied up.
I felt a shudder of revulsion at her actions.
Yet, now as I stared at the totally restrained body of the toppled stranger, something about the view of his large naked feet sticking out from the ropes that bound his massive body tightly, made the powerfully built man look even more defenseless.
I was about to step from my hiding place to help him when the first of the pixies arrived.
The pixie is a tiny maiden with light, golden hair streaming about her tiny shoulders, about four inches in height, perfectly nude, fair of face and body, with silvery, translucent wings which are nearly as tall as she. She lands on his thigh, rests her tiny fists on her naked hips, and regards the muscular traveler with an approving smirk.
Two others pixies, and then three more, arrive now, landing on his muscular legs. These pixies are identical to the first. They speak to each other. Their voices are so light in volume that I can not hear them, but it is obvious that they are agreeing with each other that the helpless stranger is quite a prize.
Another identical appearing pixie girl arrives and hovers around the stranger’s handsome face. Her little, humming wings are almost invisible in their quickness. She carries with her a brownish gray wren’s feather. It is only an inch or so in length and a half-inch in width, yet she brandishes it in her delicate little hands like a sword. Hovering in front of his traveler’s handsome face, she extends the feather and flicks its tip back and forth across the tip of his nose. It must have tickled the traveler maddeningly and he twitched his nose.
His response elicits an eruption of gleeful giggling from the other pixies.
The cruel pixie strokes the feather across the sculpted face of her helpless victim. The straps around his forehead hold the man motionless as the little pixie strokes his tanned face with the wren feather. The little pixie smirks at the power she holds over the hulking man. Then she cruelly begins to tickle his nose with again with the feather. His only defense is to twitch his nose and the little pixie is clearly enjoying making the big man twitch his nose wildly.
While the tiny pixie hovering before the stranger’s face continues to tickle his nose with the feather, the other pixies jump into flight. They hover in flight around the strapping prisoner’s large naked feet. The pixies are only four inches long. Each of their prisoner’s bare feet is at least twelve inches long. In a fair encounter, the towering prisoner could have crushed several of the pixie women under his foot. But the vindictive village women had done their job well. The strapping prisoner was unable to move. And it was clear that tiny pixies were going to use the hulking man’s sensitive naked feet to further torment him.
Two pixies land on the straps around their victim’s ankles, lean forward, and begin to lovingly caress the tops of his bare feet with the soft palms of their tiny hands. Four more pixies congregate at his pale soles.
The malicious pixies begin lightly scratching long lines along the defenseless prisoner’s arches and heels with their tiny fingernails. The maiden who had been tickling the towering man’s nose now joins her friends at his bare feet. She adds to his anguish by cold heartedly brushing underneath his wiggling toes with her feather.
Immobile as he is, all the powerfully built man can do is helplessly laugh at the top of his lungs. His mighty physique shakes with waves of anguished laughter as the tiny pixie women tickle his pale bare feet. His deep baritone laughter fills the night air.
The gleeful smirks on the pixies faces made me believe that the tiny women were ecstatic that the muscle-bound prisoner was extremely ticklish. And I was about to witness the cold-hearted pixies were going to use each sensitive nerve ending on the prisoner’s mighty body to intensely torture him.
A cold-hearted pixie lands on each of the stranger’s big toes. The four-inch pixies wrap their legs around the base of the traveler’s plump big toe. While their prisoner’s massive body shakes with forced laughter, the merciless pair adds to his suffering. While their tiny legs hold them firmly in place, each little pixie uses the sharp nails on her little hands to tickle the soft pads of the prisoner’s big toes. Their efforts are rewarded as the tortured laughter of the massive prisoner becomes even louder.
The two pixies on the prisoner’s ankles now begin to trace the tops of his feet with long licks from their tiny tongues. The traveler kicked his big feet wildly but some sort of pixie magic allowed the tiny women to effortlessly cling to his naked feet. The five pixies torturing the huge man’s soles become more frantic with their tickling, quickly searching every crease on the bottoms of his bare feet with tiny, probing fingernails.
The pixie with the feather now flutters toward their victim’s crotch. She opens his trousers and reveals his manhood, which has become erect and swollen with longing. The spiteful pixie begins to run the edges of her feather up and down the sides of his shaft with long, merciless strokes. The huge prisoner is frantic with lust and high-pitched shrieks of laughter as his cock and his naked feet are mercilessly tickled.
The merciless pixie women were not done tormenting their handsome prize.
A few pixie women landed on the massive man’s powerful upper body. They used their sharp nails to rip open his shirt. They fluttered above the wildly laughing man for a few moments planning their attack. Their victim’s powerful hairy chest muscles were dripping with sweat. Waves of laughter surge across his narrow rippled stomach.
I thought back to when I first laid eyes on the handsome traveler. He appeared so tall and strong as he walked through our village. The powerfully built stranger had an aura of confidence. Our village men seemed so plain and small in comparison.
I could not have known that the village hags were correct. The handsome traveler had repeatedly charmed his way into the favor of young maidens like me. And after stealing their virginity, he would simply move on, leaving a path of destroyed young beauties in his wake. I did not know that beneath all his external beauty was a man with a cruel letch who used his wiles to fill his lustful desires.
But the pixies could see beyond his handsome exterior to the self- absorbed demon that lay beneath. And the pixie women would mete out a suitable punishment for his past crimes.
The pixie at his cock flutters her silver wings and hovers over his erection, which is now red with anticipation, and quickly flicks the feather’s tip across the head of his penis, over and over, teasing him and denying him release. The pixies at his feet are now biting and scratching in earnest, tickling and tickling every bit of bare skin they can find. The torturous tickling of his feet is unnerving, drawing from the powerfully built man endless bouts of uncontrolled laughter, while the incessant tickling of the head of his cock is enough to drive wild with lust, yet not enough to bring him to climax. The helpless man screams with laughter for mercy, and the tickling goes on and on . . .
. . . and then suddenly stops.
All the blond pixie women simply fly off.
While the handsome muscular man fights to regain his breath and helplessly tries to escape, I see that the blond haired pixies have abandoned the helpless prisoner to greet another pixie girl that has just arrived, identical in every way to the tiny maidens that have tortured him for hours, except for her raven hair. The pixie who had taken such delight in teasing his manhood hands her feather to the dark haired fairy, turns to me and waves good-bye. She and her golden haired sisters depart, their giggling quickly fading as they disappear into the woods.
The muscular man is left alone with the raven haired pixie and her feather, but not for long, for other dark haired pixies soon arrive, hovering around him, giggling. The panic on the handsome prisoner’s face wells up as he realizes that . . .
. . . now it is their turn!
Sadly, I turn to leave the prisoner to his fate. As I walk back toward the village, I again hear his baritone laughter bellowing through the night air.
The handsome dark haired man is simply an innocent traveler. The charming stranger incurred the wrath of some peasant village women by showing favor to me as I served him food and drink in the village pub. Village men say shyly that I am woman of great beauty, blond and shapely and filled with the joy of youth. But surely, the tall traveler meant no harm as he entertained me with his guileless flirtations.
The older village women did not see his flirtations as harmless. They said young maidens like me often fell victim to the lustful desires of such travelers. Although I disagreed loudly as I argued with them to spare the man, secretly I did find myself filled with strange longings for the dark stranger. I suspected the large country women were not as interested in protecting my maidenhood as they were jealous of my petite figure.
The large women accosted the muscular traveler as he traveled on an isolated path away from the village. The women were strong country folk. The ugly hags outnumbered him. The large amount of wine that he drank as he flirted with me as well as his gentile manners for women slowed his defenses. The gaggle of homely bitches overpowered the lone man, bound his arms and brought him deep into these woods.
I followed the group from a distance.
I could hear the women and the stranger arguing in a forest clearing. The old hags made it clear that the only appropriate punishment for a licentious outsider such as the flirtatious stranger would be to leave the big man to whims of the pixie women. Now, being a townsman and having been raised in more enlightened circumstances, the tall man scoffed at the mention of the tale.
But I remembered hearing tell of the forest pixies as a child.
I remembered stories of unsuspecting travelers being captured and driven insane by these miniature maidens. Exactly how the pixies drove their victims mad had been left to my youthful imaginings.
Hidden from the group’s view, I watched as the handsome stranger was further accosted by these leering, vindictive peasant women. The horde of homely women tripped the drunken man to the ground. Some of the burly women sat on the outnumbered man while other women spitefully bound the man’s powerful limbs. The horde of women attacking the stranger was numerous enough that I could no longer see the toppled man beneath them. As the cruel women immobilized the stranger, I found myself wondering if the pixie stories of my childhood might actually be true and guessing at what sorts of magic spells and the like might await the helpless muscular man.
I dismissed my thoughts of pixies as childish foolishness.
I devised a plan to wait until the jealous hags had left. I would then free their handsome victim. And I secretly hoped that he would devise a special way to thank me.
My decadent fantasy was interrupted by the sounds of the hags walking past my hiding place. One of the women carried a fine leather boot that I knew must have belonged to the stranger. A few steps behind her another hag carried the other boot. The outsider’s boots looked large as the wicked hags clutched them in their sun browned hands. I heard one of the homely women snickering about how soft the stranger’s feet were.
I waited a few minutes until I could no longer hear the village hags chattering to each other as they make their way home. I gently pushed down a branch allowing me an obstructed view of the studly stranger.
The dark-haired man is helpless.
The village women bound the tall man to the base of a large tree in a clearing in the middle of the dark forest. The stranger’s strong back is pressed against the smooth bark, his huge arms have been pulled behind him, and his sturdy wrists tied to each other on the opposite side of the tree.
The bondage forces his powerful chest muscles against his torn white shirt. I again feel strange longings as I gaze at the glimpses of his hairy muscular chest. The manner in which he is tied also causes his huge arm muscles to stretch the fabric of his shirt.
I wondered what it would feel like to have his muscular arms around me.
His powerfully built legs are stretched out before him. The ropes that bind his knees and ankles together are tied to stakes that are very deeply driven into the soil. The village women have left their muscular victim completely clothed except that they stripped off his boots leaving the overpowered man barefoot. I suppose the powerfully built man had been left this way to make his walk harder when he finally managed to free himself.
A wide strap of hide has been placed around his forehead and around the tree’s trunk. The ends of the strap are tied together on the back side of the tree. The stranger’s entire body has been rendered completely immobile. The big man cannot even move his head from side to side.
The hags had done their job well.
While I gather my courage to approach him, I stare at the man from my hiding place.
The bound traveler’s sculpted face is beautiful. I remember how brightly his deep blue eyes shined as he flirted with me. His body looks even more muscular as the bondage has pressed his loose clothing tightly against his tall hard body. In spite of my virginal state, my eyes rest for a moment on the large bulge that is made obvious by the ropes that tightly bind his pants to his body. I blush at my desire to see his manhood. I force myself to continue my observations. I am surprised at how massive his powerful legs look now that his clothing is tightly bound to his legs.
My father had left my mother before I was born. And, in her bitterness, my mother shielded me from any contact with men. I had never seen any part of any man’s body. And as I continue to gaze on the helpless stranger, my eyes are drawn to the sight of his bare feet.
His naked feet are large as one who expect on such a tall muscular man. The soles of his feet are wide and topped by large plump toes.
I am surprised how different the bottoms of his feet look from what I had expected.
Unlike his hard-sun-tanned body, the soles of his feet appear pinkish and pale. I remembered again the hag snickering about soft the stranger’s big feet were. I wondered if the handsome man felt humiliated by some ugly crone stripping his boots from him. I imagine what he must have thought as the ugly hag fondled his bare feet after he was helplessly tied up.
I felt a shudder of revulsion at her actions.
Yet, now as I stared at the totally restrained body of the toppled stranger, something about the view of his large naked feet sticking out from the ropes that bound his massive body tightly, made the powerfully built man look even more defenseless.
I was about to step from my hiding place to help him when the first of the pixies arrived.
The pixie is a tiny maiden with light, golden hair streaming about her tiny shoulders, about four inches in height, perfectly nude, fair of face and body, with silvery, translucent wings which are nearly as tall as she. She lands on his thigh, rests her tiny fists on her naked hips, and regards the muscular traveler with an approving smirk.
Two others pixies, and then three more, arrive now, landing on his muscular legs. These pixies are identical to the first. They speak to each other. Their voices are so light in volume that I can not hear them, but it is obvious that they are agreeing with each other that the helpless stranger is quite a prize.
Another identical appearing pixie girl arrives and hovers around the stranger’s handsome face. Her little, humming wings are almost invisible in their quickness. She carries with her a brownish gray wren’s feather. It is only an inch or so in length and a half-inch in width, yet she brandishes it in her delicate little hands like a sword. Hovering in front of his traveler’s handsome face, she extends the feather and flicks its tip back and forth across the tip of his nose. It must have tickled the traveler maddeningly and he twitched his nose.
His response elicits an eruption of gleeful giggling from the other pixies.
The cruel pixie strokes the feather across the sculpted face of her helpless victim. The straps around his forehead hold the man motionless as the little pixie strokes his tanned face with the wren feather. The little pixie smirks at the power she holds over the hulking man. Then she cruelly begins to tickle his nose with again with the feather. His only defense is to twitch his nose and the little pixie is clearly enjoying making the big man twitch his nose wildly.
While the tiny pixie hovering before the stranger’s face continues to tickle his nose with the feather, the other pixies jump into flight. They hover in flight around the strapping prisoner’s large naked feet. The pixies are only four inches long. Each of their prisoner’s bare feet is at least twelve inches long. In a fair encounter, the towering prisoner could have crushed several of the pixie women under his foot. But the vindictive village women had done their job well. The strapping prisoner was unable to move. And it was clear that tiny pixies were going to use the hulking man’s sensitive naked feet to further torment him.
Two pixies land on the straps around their victim’s ankles, lean forward, and begin to lovingly caress the tops of his bare feet with the soft palms of their tiny hands. Four more pixies congregate at his pale soles.
The malicious pixies begin lightly scratching long lines along the defenseless prisoner’s arches and heels with their tiny fingernails. The maiden who had been tickling the towering man’s nose now joins her friends at his bare feet. She adds to his anguish by cold heartedly brushing underneath his wiggling toes with her feather.
Immobile as he is, all the powerfully built man can do is helplessly laugh at the top of his lungs. His mighty physique shakes with waves of anguished laughter as the tiny pixie women tickle his pale bare feet. His deep baritone laughter fills the night air.
The gleeful smirks on the pixies faces made me believe that the tiny women were ecstatic that the muscle-bound prisoner was extremely ticklish. And I was about to witness the cold-hearted pixies were going to use each sensitive nerve ending on the prisoner’s mighty body to intensely torture him.
A cold-hearted pixie lands on each of the stranger’s big toes. The four-inch pixies wrap their legs around the base of the traveler’s plump big toe. While their prisoner’s massive body shakes with forced laughter, the merciless pair adds to his suffering. While their tiny legs hold them firmly in place, each little pixie uses the sharp nails on her little hands to tickle the soft pads of the prisoner’s big toes. Their efforts are rewarded as the tortured laughter of the massive prisoner becomes even louder.
The two pixies on the prisoner’s ankles now begin to trace the tops of his feet with long licks from their tiny tongues. The traveler kicked his big feet wildly but some sort of pixie magic allowed the tiny women to effortlessly cling to his naked feet. The five pixies torturing the huge man’s soles become more frantic with their tickling, quickly searching every crease on the bottoms of his bare feet with tiny, probing fingernails.
The pixie with the feather now flutters toward their victim’s crotch. She opens his trousers and reveals his manhood, which has become erect and swollen with longing. The spiteful pixie begins to run the edges of her feather up and down the sides of his shaft with long, merciless strokes. The huge prisoner is frantic with lust and high-pitched shrieks of laughter as his cock and his naked feet are mercilessly tickled.
The merciless pixie women were not done tormenting their handsome prize.
A few pixie women landed on the massive man’s powerful upper body. They used their sharp nails to rip open his shirt. They fluttered above the wildly laughing man for a few moments planning their attack. Their victim’s powerful hairy chest muscles were dripping with sweat. Waves of laughter surge across his narrow rippled stomach.
I thought back to when I first laid eyes on the handsome traveler. He appeared so tall and strong as he walked through our village. The powerfully built stranger had an aura of confidence. Our village men seemed so plain and small in comparison.
I could not have known that the village hags were correct. The handsome traveler had repeatedly charmed his way into the favor of young maidens like me. And after stealing their virginity, he would simply move on, leaving a path of destroyed young beauties in his wake. I did not know that beneath all his external beauty was a man with a cruel letch who used his wiles to fill his lustful desires.
But the pixies could see beyond his handsome exterior to the self- absorbed demon that lay beneath. And the pixie women would mete out a suitable punishment for his past crimes.
The pixie at his cock flutters her silver wings and hovers over his erection, which is now red with anticipation, and quickly flicks the feather’s tip across the head of his penis, over and over, teasing him and denying him release. The pixies at his feet are now biting and scratching in earnest, tickling and tickling every bit of bare skin they can find. The torturous tickling of his feet is unnerving, drawing from the powerfully built man endless bouts of uncontrolled laughter, while the incessant tickling of the head of his cock is enough to drive wild with lust, yet not enough to bring him to climax. The helpless man screams with laughter for mercy, and the tickling goes on and on . . .
. . . and then suddenly stops.
All the blond pixie women simply fly off.
While the handsome muscular man fights to regain his breath and helplessly tries to escape, I see that the blond haired pixies have abandoned the helpless prisoner to greet another pixie girl that has just arrived, identical in every way to the tiny maidens that have tortured him for hours, except for her raven hair. The pixie who had taken such delight in teasing his manhood hands her feather to the dark haired fairy, turns to me and waves good-bye. She and her golden haired sisters depart, their giggling quickly fading as they disappear into the woods.
The muscular man is left alone with the raven haired pixie and her feather, but not for long, for other dark haired pixies soon arrive, hovering around him, giggling. The panic on the handsome prisoner’s face wells up as he realizes that . . .
. . . now it is their turn!
Sadly, I turn to leave the prisoner to his fate. As I walk back toward the village, I again hear his baritone laughter bellowing through the night air.