2T4U/Jack/Afternoon/Fiona's/Go and take a shower

From All The Fallen Stories
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Rising from the couch, you excuse yourself from Fiona and make your way upstairs; the big, flaccid cock slapping between your thighs and leaving a trail of juice as you walk. She shouts the directions to the bathroom, which turns out to be very fortunate. Once on the upper floor, you find that the place is riddled with rooms and doors and hallways. How a single adult and her grand-niece could ever need so much goddamn space is really incomprehensible.


The cool water feels swell against your hot, sweaty skin. Fiona's bathroom is, just like the rest of her house, enormous: with pink walls, marble floors and a shower that's separated from the rest of the room by a sliding glass door. It quickly fills with steam, and so you're left feeling yourself up in a silvery mist.

At one point you think you're able to hear a humming engine, but only after you hear the noise buzz right past your ear do you become convinced that it's in fact some kind of fly. Instinctively, you look around trying to find it; but quickly have to stop after getting some soap in your eye.

Forced to try and rub it out, you also suddenly remember that you never even brought any soap into the shower. But that thought is quickly interrupted by a nasal, squeaky little laughter.


Looking up, you come face to face with a sight that makes your heart bump up in your throat. You don't remember drinking anything today, and you definitely know you haven't smoked anything; yet just a few inches in front of you flies something which could only exist in a fucked-up hallucination. The tiniest little person, barely the size of your hand, with tiny butterfly wings and scruffy black hair. It's completely naked, and you're even able to see a microscopic penis dangle between its legs; leaking something silvery. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost believe it to be some kind of fairy from Peter Pan or something.

"Harken, boy!" the little dude squeaks in its voice; straightening itself and attempting to look intimidating. "I come as a herald to my mistress, and you would do well to heed my words!"

Completely flabbergasted, your mind doesn't allow you to do anything but stand with your jaw agape while the water runs down on you. The fairy continues:

"Barbarian, I serve the living ghost of the witch Maria Cortez! Ages past, she was burned at stake - but such is her power that she has crawled back from the dead to curse this town with a great curse! You are cast under it, for have you not laid with a canine despite being forbidden to do such by your feeble morality? Have you not been tempted with the thought of fornicating with child, beast and relative alike? All this have I seen, all this do I know! The witch has chosen you to be her favored!"

The high-pitched voice and the impossible vocabulary really makes the whole situation even more bizarre than it already is.

"Harken! My mistress cannot come to you in person, for she needs to know you are worthy of-... Of being visited!" The hesitation almost makes it seem like the fairy just told a lie, but he stumbles over his words so fast that it's hard to tell. "Instead, she will come when you sleep! When you lay to rest this night, do so with you feet on your pillow and both arms crossed. This completes a ritual. A ritual which will take you to the world of dreams, where you shall come face to face with my mistress and hear her words!"

With that, the fairy flutters his winds and dives towards a tiny crack you must have accidentally left open in the sliding doors.