It takes a lot to surprise me, but having a six-foot-tall leprechaun dressed in a green baseball hat, green running shoes, green sweatpants, and a white Notre Dame sweatshirt ring my doorbell did it. He didn’t look like a leprechaun, but I knew that’s what he was. I’d recognize Danny Boy anywhere. Especially since the stylized, fists-up little man on the Notre Dame sweatshirt wasn’t the true Notre Dame logo. Instead, it was a fairly accurate portrayal of the Danny Boy who had visited me in the middle of the night a few years ago.

“What do you want?” I asked cautiously as he stood there grinning at me.

“I’ve gotten meself into a wee tiny spot of trouble,” he said, bowing his head slightly, “and I’ve got a wee bit of a favor to ask of ye.”

“Drop the fake accent, Danny,” I said curtly as I motioned for him to enter. “We both know you can speak perfect English.”

“And American,” he said as he stepped into my living room.

“What’s the favor?” I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. It is never a good idea to piss off a leprechaun, even if they are looking very human and vulnerable at the moment.

“I got a little boastful with the new Queen of the Daoine Sidhe,” he said, standing with his hands held in front of him.

“And...” I said firmly.

“That’s the Queen of the Fairy Mound,” he explained quickly and then added, “I talked about what you did for that poor lass who was trapped in Connecticut a few years back... how you agreed to be her power giver.”

“And...” I repeated.

“Well, you see,” he said, holding out both hands toward me palms up as if he was holding something, “she is a new Queen. You might even say she is a virgin Queen.”

“And...” I said once more. I don’t know if my exasperation was showing in my voice.

“And she wants you to be her power giver,” he said, now holding his hands together with the fingers clasped as if begging me. His voice suddenly sounded desperate as he said, “You’ve got to do this for me. She has me pot of gold.”

“I thought leprechaun gold was fake,” I said cautiously.

“It is,” he said derisively, “... totally useless ...turns to lead or worse once it is taken out of the pot.”

“So, what is the problem?” I asked. I was now starting to be confused. Danny Boy had shown his power in several different ways in the times we had met. I couldn’t understand why he was so concerned about a pot of fake gold that he could recreate with a nod of his head.

“It’s the pot itself,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “The pot most people ever see is as fake as the gold within it. But this was my true pot that is always hidden deep beneath the earth. It is from that golden pot that I derive all my power. She took it and used it to wish me a hundred times bigger and then half again.”

He gestured to himself. Since he was about three inches taller than I am and I am an even six-foot, that made him six-three, or 75 inches tall.

“So one-half inch is your true height,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“And if I can’t get my pot back,” he wailed, now looking scared... very scared, “I will end up staying this size... and becoming mortal!!!”

“Being mortal’s not so bad,” I replied. “I’m mortal.”

“But you haven’t made a lot of powerful enemies among the wee people and the bean-sidhe... the citizens of the fairy mound,” he said, clutching at my shirt. “Do you have any idea what they might do to me if they found out I lost my powers?”

I let out a deep sigh and said, “What do you want me to do?”

“She’ll be coming to you in a few days, at Halloween,” he said nervously. “Just let things... happen... between you. She promised she would give me back my pot after that.”

“So is she going to possess someone like the banshee did Marie O’Callahan back in Connecticut?” I asked. I really didn’t like the direction this was all leading.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Danny Boy said, almost pushing me back with his hands. “She has to be herself for the magic to work properly.”

“So, I am supposed to make love to a Fairy Queen who is what... a half-inch tall?” I said. I now couldn’t control the exasperation in my voice.

“Well,” Danny Boy said, “if she had her true powers, she could make herself any size she wanted, but she’s only got youngling powers right now, so she’s only...” He held his hand well below his waist.

“Great,” I said, “she’s not even three feet tall!” I almost yelled.

“Not exactly,” Danny Boy said, gulping loudly. He was now sweating profusely. “She’s that to me when I’m my normal size.”

“Then what you’re asking is impossible!” I yelled, no longer trying to hold back my exasperation.

“But it will be Halloween,” Danny Boy whined. “A lot of impossible things happen on Halloween.”

“But it won’t be Dark Night,” I replied curtly. “And if I remember right, the first dark of the moon following the Autumnal Equinox was October sixth this year. That’s when the true magic could have happened and we already missed it.”

“But a lot of magic still happens on Halloween because people think it will,” Danny Boy said. I don’t know if he was now sounding desperate or hopeful.

“OK... OK...” I finally said. “If a Fairy Queen attempts to seduce me while I am at the Halloween party I’m planning to go to, I will let it happen.” I held my hand up with my thumb and forefinger just a little ways apart and then said almost angrily, “But you know it won’t happen... because it can’t.”

“Maybe she will give me credit for trying,” Danny Boy said. His head was hanging forward and there were tears dripping from his face.

“You’ve gotten yourself out of worse scrapes,” I said, putting my hand on Danny’s shoulder. He looked up at me like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me either.

“Where will you stay in the meantime?” I asked.

“I’ve got some powers left, for now,” he said. “As long as I stay below ground I can keep myself hidden from... everyone.”

He stared into my eyes for a long time. Finally, I gave a deep sigh and said, “OK, you can stay in my basement for the few days until Halloween. But if the Fairy Queen doesn’t give you credit for trying, you’re on your own.” I liked Danny Boy, but I really didn’t want to be in the middle of a leprechaun war.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Danny Boy said and then he sort of melted down through the floor as if he were riding an elevator.

The next few days were a little tense for me. One, no matter what I needed, I did NOT go down into the basement. And two, every time something creaked in the house, I spun around expecting to see a Fairy Queen or a host of angry wee people behind me.

Finally, Halloween came. Usually, Halloween is a high point of the year for me. I love the decorations and the parties and, yes, the scantily-clad sweet young things that let their inner slut run wild as naughty nurses or whatever. But this year, I couldn’t get into the spirit of things. I would have skipped the party altogether except for the fact that Danny Boy kept popping up through the floor at regular intervals to remind me that I had to go. I was tempted to start playing whack-a-mole with him, but the more reasonable side of my mind kept reminding me that leprechauns have really long memories and really bad tempers and will eventually retaliate if you do something nasty to them.

I almost didn’t even wear a costume to the party, but Danny Boy insisted, so finally, I did a haphazard makeup job and put on an old tuxedo. With my hair slicked back and a set of false fangs in my mouth, I was ready to be a really bad, schlocky vampire.

I greeted everyone with “Gooood Ewening” and insisted on kissing each young... or old lady on the back of the hand. After a short while, everyone was smiling at me, but no one was standing near me. It was as if the crazy uncle from up in the attic had snuck down to join the party and everyone was keeping their distance. Normally, I would find that very disappointing, but this time I was very pleased with myself. I had intentionally made it very difficult for a Fairy Queen or anyone else to get close enough to me to seduce me.

Further adding to the idea that I was just a little off, I jumped up and stopped our host, James, from swatting a moth that had gotten in and was bothering everyone. I carefully captured it in my hands and then took it outside through the patio doors. “You never know,” I said in my best Bela Lugosi voice, “on Halloween night, something like that might be a fairy princess in disguise.”

Everyone laughed and I attempted to smile at them, but the reality was that what I said was true. There was a fairy princess –actually an immature fairy queen– who very much wanted to attend this party. After that, whenever there was a fly or moth or something like that, people would call out, “Hey Dracula, you’ve got another fairy trying to crash the party.”

I think I helped two more moths and about a dozen flies out the patio door. Luckily no wasps or bees showed up. I’m not quite as kind to little bugs that can really hurt me, but then again, if any of those little beasties were actually the fairy queen, she could probably really, really hurt me. I saw –and felt– what the banshee could do even before she got her full powers.

I sat in my corner and carefully watched the crowd. I was especially wary of any costume with wings or that did not expose the back where wings might be. Maybe the fairy queen used Danny Boy’s pot to make herself bigger even though he swore she couldn’t do that. There was one petite young miss in a butterfly costume that I was particularly wary of because she was smaller than anyone else at the party. Her face was painted a blackish-green while her long, pale brown hair hung down over her back. She had black stockings on her legs and something similar on her arms. Several more smaller “legs” stuck out of the front of her body and a huge pair of very ornate wings stuck out of the costume on the back. The wings flapped slowly whenever anyone was around. They looked almost real, which meant it was either one hell of a good –and expensive– costume, or it was the Fairy Queen. I wasn’t in the mood to find out.

Around ten, James announced, “It’s time for the Kinkiest Couple Costume Contest.”

His wife, Trisha, who was standing next to him in an extremely convincing Lady Godiva costume which consisted of very strategically-placed hair extensions, gushed, “Remember, the judging isn’t just on the costume. You have to act out something in character.”

“We have three contestants,” James bellowed out in his most TV game show host voice. “They are Han Solo and Princess Leia; Master Leo and his slave, leona; and last but not least, Mistress Latisha and her slave, slave.”

Trisha again swept in and gushed, “Remember to not make up your mind until the final couple has finished their presentation.”

James looked sideways at her with a weary, if not angry, look. I had the feeling that Trisha tended to interrupt him regularly. After a quick deep breath, he yelled out, “I present to you, Han Solo and Princess Leia.”

There was a smattering of applause as Han stepped into the middle of the room. His costume was perfect, with black pants and a black leather vest. His hair was also cut and styled perfectly. There was even a realistic-looking blaster in a holster on his belt. The only thing not exact was the rough white shirt. For some reason, it was buttoned up almost to his neck.

He pulled the blaster from his holster and looked around at the crowd. After giving a perfect Harrison Ford smile, he said, “Yeah, I shot first. There is no second shot in a blaster shoot-out.” Then some music started and slave Princess Leia came sashaying into the center of the room.

Her costume, what there was of it, was also perfect. The metal bikini looked like it was real metal. The top was cinched a little tighter than I expected, but it was also heavy-looking.

The music was a tango, and they were perfect at it. Han swept Leia around, bent her over, and even kissed her roughly while he had her bent back almost to the ground. The music finally ended and the couple bowed to everyone.

“That was a fine dance,” James said in a very mocking tone of voice. “But did you not understand that this was a Kinky Couples Contest?”

Han laughed slightly and said, “Sometimes the kink is hidden. Show them what I mean, honey.”

Leia reached to the sides of the bikini and unsnapped something. The bikini bottom and the flimsy cloth attached to it fell to the ground.

There was a loud gasp from everyone. Beneath the metal bikini was a well-shaven set of prick and balls.

Han laughed again. This time it was a more high-pitched laugh. “I won’t take off the pants,” she said. “But I think this will prove the kink.”

She quickly opened the shirt, exposing a flesh-colored compression brassiere. “I’d let the puppies out to breathe,” she said with a smile, “but it takes a long time to get this bra put back together without pinching things.”

The stunned crowd began clapping. There were several shouts of “Bravo!” and “Kinky.”

James shook his head slightly and said. “Yes, that was kinky... and unexpected.” His face then brightened as he said, “I think the kink for Master Leo and slave leona will be a little more obvious.”

He gestured with his hands and Master Leo strode out into the center of the room carrying a wooden chair and a whip. His costume was the stereotypical lion tamer outfit of tight black pants and a very loose white shirt. The sleeves billowed as he cracked his whip loudly. At the sound of the whip, slave leona came crawling out to join him.

Her costume was both much simpler and much more complex. The only thing she was wearing was a lion’s tail, complete with the hairy knob at the end. It was obviously connected to a butt plug of some sort. The rest of her costume was paint. Her entire body was painted –or perhaps tattooed– to look like the tawny fur of a lioness. There were prosthetic ears of some sort which made her ears look like pointed lion’s ears, and there was some sort of mask-like thing glued to her face to give her more of a lion’s chin and mouth. She roared at Master Leo in a rather high-pitched voice and he again cracked the whip, this time very near her naked ass.

“Up!” he ordered and she raised herself up on her knees with her arms in front of her. He approached her, holding the chair out in front of himself, and she growled and batted at the legs with her hands.

“Down!” he ordered and she dropped to the floor and rolled over on her back. He approached and lightly stroked her stomach. “Nice kitty,” he said softly. Then he asked, “Do you want a belly rub?” In response, slave leona gave a low-pitched growl that almost sounded like a purr.

“That’s my girl,” Master Leo said. “When you do as ordered, you get a reward.” He then began to stroke her belly. After a short time, he moved up to stroke and caress her breasts. In response, her growl became deeper and she began to pant.

“You need more, don’t you?” Master Leo asked. The response was a whining growl.

“I thought so,” he replied and moved his hand down between slave leona’s legs. He softly massaged her labia, allowing his finger to slide softly across her clit. Her growl became more frantic as his fingers began dipping into her slit. She was humping up to press against his hand as his fingers probed deeper and deeper within her.

When she was almost lifting herself off the floor, Master Leo suddenly stood up and cracked his whip. “Up!” he ordered.

Her growl sounded very hurt and very needy... almost pitiful, but she rolled over and brought herself up to her knees. She knelt there, trembling with need.

He then said firmly, “Face these nice people and show everyone what a kinky, slutty, kitty you really are, slave leona.”

The lion-girl whined softly, but turned to face everyone and spread her knees. Then she brought one hand down and began pushing it deep within her cunt. The other hand was alternating between her breasts, squeezing and twisting each nipple in turn. Her growls and roars were becoming louder and much higher-pitched. She was almost there, but still couldn’t peak.

Then Master Leo stepped out to the side of her. He waited, listening to her, until she was grunting and growling loudly, but still not reaching orgasm. Then he again snapped the whip, but this time it wasn’t in the air. It was against slave leona’s ass.

She immediately shot upright on her knees and growled out in a very high-pitched growl. Her hands were in a fury against her cunt as she fell back onto her back with her legs bent over at the knees. The growl was now gone and she screamed and cried out, “Thank you, Master. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

In response, Master Leo looked down at her and said softly, “Well done, my little lioness. Now, why don’t you go out into the backyard and take care of any business you need to do?”

The lioness-girl rolled up onto her knees and started crawling toward the patio doors. Someone opened it for her and she crawled on out into the backyard. Master Leo looked out at the crowd and said, “She has to clean herself up and, if necessary, empty her bladder.” He turned to James and said, “Don’t worry, if she does anything more than that, I have a big doggy pickup bag and I will take care of it.”

Turning back to the crowd, he asked loudly, “Was that kinky enough for you?”

Everyone burst into applause. This time, the cries of “Bravo!” and “Kinky!” were much louder.

James stepped into the center of the room, waited for everyone to quiet down and then announced, “Our last couple is Mistress Latisha and her slave, slave.”

A tall, muscular woman stepped into the center of the room wearing a skin-tight, one-piece black vinyl swimsuit. Her gloves matched the swimsuit and came up her arms well past her elbows. Matching knee-high, high-heeled boots completed the ensemble. Her skin was nearly as black as the vinyl.

“This is a little embarrassing,” she said flatly. “My slave was supposed to meet me here at the party, but there was an accident out on the interstate and she is stuck in traffic.” She laughed slightly, “Luckily, I gave her permission to wear something on the way here, or she might be giving the other motorists –and the police– a little surprise.”

She turned to survey the crowd of people in the room. “But the show must go on,” she said brightly. “And my sub-meter is quivering. I think there is a little subbie here among us who would be willing to take slave’s place for the evening.”

She pointed to the corner opposite me and said firmly, “You, Tinkerbell, you look like a submissive. Do you have a Master or Mistress?”

A young woman who had to be more than six feet tall jumped up in surprise and then stepped forward very timidly. She was dressed in a very typical Tinkerbell costume consisting of very pale greenish-white stocking, a very short green dress cut into triangles at the bottom, and, of course, a set of clear wings which sprouted out of her back. After much effort, she finally said, “No.”

“That is ‘No, Mistress Latisha’... at least for the evening,” the Mistress said. Then she added, “Leave your wings behind and come out here.”

The girl stood there trembling for a moment or two and then reached under her arm to detach something. The wings fell to the floor behind her and she started to step out to join Mistress Latisha. She stopped, however, when the Mistress said loudly, “On second thought, leave it all behind and come out here. Don’t worry, you won’t need it.”

The girl slipped her short green dress over her head and left it on the arm of a couch. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so all she now had on were the green panties and her stockings. She stuck her thumbs in the sides of the panties and pushed downward, taking the stockings with her. Maybe they were one piece. In any case, they were soon on the floor between the girl’s legs.

“Now, come out here and stand next to me,” Mistress Latisha ordered. Tinkerbell immediately complied. She looked almost ghostly-white standing next to Mistress Latisha.

“Did you come out here of your own free will?” Mistress Latisha asked. Tinkerbell nodded her head.

“You have to say it out loud, Tink.” Mistress Latisha said firmly. Then she repeated the question. “Did you come out here of your own free will?”

“You ordered me to,” Tinkerbell said in a quivering voice.

“But you chose to obey, didn’t you?” Mistress Latisha pressed, and Tinkerbell said softly, “Yes, I chose to obey.”

“Thank you,” Mistress Latisha said emphatically. “Now, I’m going to explain what you and I are going to do for these nice people.” She picked up a long-handled crop and said, “To show that you and I are a kinky couple, you are going to allow me to spank you with this crop.” She used the crop to point to two objects on the floor that were each the size of a softball. “But to make it more interesting,” she continued, “you are going to roll these dice; one will say where and the other one will say how many strokes.”

Both dice were pentagonal dodecahedrons, meaning they had twelve sides. On one die, each pentagon-shaped side contained a number. Mistress Latisha held up that die and said, “There could be one to twelve strokes.” She held up the other die and said, “This one is to choose tits, ass, or cunt. Notice that there are eight that say ass, three that say tits, and one that says cunt.”

She turned to Tinkerbell and said firmly, “That means you could get as little as one smack on the ass or as much as twelve on your cunt. Are you willing to allow me to punish you like this?”

Tinkerbell again nodded her head.

“That won’t do, slave Tinkerbell,” Mistress Latisha almost yelled. “You have to say it out loud. You have to say, ‘I am willing to take this punishment from Mistress Latisha.’”

The naked girl swallowed very hard and then said in a clear voice, “I am willing to take this punishment from Mistress Latisha because I deserve it.”

Mistress Latisha handed both dice to Tinkerbell and said firmly, “Roll the dice, slave, and see what the actual punishment will be.”

The naked Tinkerbell rolled the first die and the entire crowd shouted out loudly, “Cunt!”

Tinkerbell’s face blanched and her eyes widened. “Throw the second die!” Mistress Latisha commanded and Tinkerbell rolled the die almost over to where I was sitting. The cry from the crowd this time was “Twelve!”

The naked Tinkerbell was visibly shaking as Mistress Latisha put her hand on Tink’s shoulder and said in a normal tone of voice. “You know what the punishment is now. I’m going to ask you once more, are you willing?”

Tinkerbell took a deep breath and then said softly, “I am willing to take this punishment from Mistress Latisha because I deserve it.”

The wooden chair from Master Leo’s lion taming was still in the center of the room, so Mistress Latisha had Tink sit on the chair facing the back. The Mistress started to tie Tink’s ankles to the back legs of the chair but then stopped and said, “I think you are submissive enough to stay in place without being tied.” She stepped back and said, “Lie back until your head is on the floor and reach under the chair to grab your ankles.”

Tinkerbell followed the Mistress’ instructions. Her legs were now held wide apart by the back of the chair and her near-contortionist position caused her bare cunt to be pushed up and on display.

Mistress Latisha leaned down over Tinkerbell and said, “I am going to give you four soft, four medium, three hard, ... and one to remember the evening by.”

She stepped back and looked out at the people in the room. She tested the crop in the air several times before beginning. Then she gave the swats as she had stated. The first four were relatively light and Tinkerbell merely winced slightly when they hit. The next four were harder and Tink grunted and said “Ow” with each stroke. The next three were hard enough to be heard by everyone in the room. So were Tinkerbell’s cries of pain. Mistress Latisha paused before the last swat. The crop hovered above the poor girl’s already punished cunt. Then with a quick snap, the crop shot up and then down, directly on Tinkerbell’s clit. This time the splat of the crop hitting was drowned out by Tinkerbell’s scream of pain.

While Tinkerbell was still in place, crying and sobbing, Mistress Latisha took a deep bow to the crowd. The applause was the loudest yet. So, too, were the shouts of “Bravo!” and “Kinky!”

When the applause died out, Mistress Latisha bent over to help Tinkerbell back to her feet. She had to tell her to let go of her ankles. Somehow, despite the pain, Tinkerbell had held in place as ordered. Once Tinkerbell was back on her feet, Mistress Latisha said almost softly, “You can go back to your seat now, Tinkerbell. If you want to explore being my slave further, give me a call.” She pulled a card out of the top of her costume and handed it to the still crying girl.

Someone threw the Tinkerbell dress and panties out from the corner where Tink had left them but they overshot the center of the room and landed on the floor next to my chair. Since the stockings hadn’t flown through the air with them, apparently, they were not one piece after all.

The naked and crying Tinkerbell came back to my table to retrieve her small green dress and green panties. Her wings and stockings were still in the opposite corner. She very carefully put the green panties on first, then slid the dress over her head and sat down.

She had stopped crying but seemed to still be in a daze, so I asked her, “Would you like me to get you something to drink?.. perhaps something strong to dull the pain?”

She looked up at me and said, “Make it a coke and rum, and go light on the rum. I truly do deserve the pain.”

That answer worried me, but I got her the drink as requested. I also got myself another vodka and lime with soda water... actually 7Up, but you can’t always get everything you want at a party. When I brought the drinks back to my table, I asked her name. She smiled up at me and said, “Let’s just leave it at Tinkerbell for now.”

I said OK and tried some normal small talk. She didn’t seem to be in the mood, so I asked the elephant question that was probably in everyone’s mind. “Why did you do it?” I asked softly. “I could see your labia... Everyone could see your labia. They were totally dry and your nipples were not engorged and erect. You weren’t getting anything out of it. The pain didn’t give you sexual pleasure and there was no release. You don’t appear to be a masochist. This didn’t make sense, unless you are trying to hurt yourself or worse.”

She looked up at me and said, “You sound like you are truly concerned about me.”

“I am,” I replied. “Young girls –or guys– like you who are seeking pain for the sake of pain are often taken advantage of. You could very easily end up in a really terrible situation or worse.”

“But I deserve the pain,” she said almost forcefully.

“Why?” I asked.

“I can tell you in the morning,” she answered.

“What can I do to keep you from seeking more pain until then?” I asked.

She looked at me very blankly and said, “You could take me home and make love to me... softly... gently... as if I didn’t deserve the pain.”

There was a very loud “Clunk!” in the back of my mind. The box I had worked myself into had just dropped closed. I could say no and just walk away, but if I did this very mixed-up little Tinkerbell could very shortly end up dead. There are enough dead bodies on my conscience and I don’t need another face to haunt my dreams.

“OK,” I said, “but we will miss the Most Erotic Costume Contest.”

Tinkerbell laughed slightly. Her face was really beautiful when she laughed. “You don’t have to worry,” she said, “Trisha will win hands down... or maybe that should be hair down.” She laughed again lightly at her own joke. I smiled broadly, but it was not the joke that did it. She was smiling. Perhaps she could be saved from herself after all.

As we were leaving, someone held up her wings and stockings. She shook her head and said, “Leave them. I will pick them up later.”

Tinkerbell was silent for the short drive to my house. When we got there, I parked the car in the driveway rather than pull into the garage. It is actually easier to get into the house from the door inside the garage, but I didn’t want Tink to feel trapped when I lowered the garage door. I walked around the car and opened the door for her.

“I could still take you home, wherever that is,” I said softly. She looked up at me and said, “No, I don’t think you could.”

I wondered what kind of home life she actually had... and with who, but I didn’t say anything else. Instead, I walked carefully up to the front door. The last thing I needed right now was Danny Boy popping up through the floor to see if the Fairy Queen was with me.

Luckily, Danny Boy remained quiet and downstairs. I didn’t know what I was going to tell him in the morning. Maybe the tiny Fairy Queen would give him credit for trying. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight I had a very large, wingless Tinkerbell who felt that she was in need of punishment and wanted me to make gentle love to her. I should be thrilled. How many men can say that there are women lining up to make love to him... except it’s for all the wrong reasons.

I motioned towards the couch and said, “Have a seat. Gentle begins with conversation. Would you like another drink? I am going to get myself some anisette. That’s a licorice-flavored liqueur intended to be sipped slowly.”

She smiled at me and said, “Anisette sounds nice. Why don’t you get us both a glass?”

I went into the kitchen and came back with two tall, double shot glasses with about an inch of anisette in the bottom. “The tall glass holds the vapor and enhances the flavor,” I said as I handed her one of the glasses. As I did, I noticed something green tucked not quite all the way under the front of the couch. I wondered if I had interrupted her by coming back so quickly or if she had left the panties almost in sight so I would see them.

“So, Tinkerbell, may I know your real name or do I have to continue to call you Tink?” I said once I was seated.

“My real name is difficult to pronounce,” she said with a smile. “Why don’t you just call me Tie. It sounds a lot better than Tink.”

“OK, Tie,” I replied, “so why do you deserve to be punished?”

“I did something very wicked,” she said with a very strange smile. “I will tell you all about it in the morning. I will even tell you my name, or at least my name the way most people pronounce it.”

She then snuggled over and scrunched herself down so she could fit under my arm. In order to actually fit, she had to swing her legs up onto the couch and almost lie down. That action caused her short skirt to ride up, exposing her naked slit. When she was being spanked, I thought she was clean-shaven down there, but actually she had very fine blond, almost white hair covering things.

“You aren’t as bruised as I expected you to be,” I said, acknowledging that I could see everything.

“I heal very fast,” she said. “The bruises will be gone soon.”

I reached down and tentatively touched her labia, which brought a contented sigh from her.

“I’m just checking how tender you are down there,” I said softly. “I don’t want to try to make love to you if it causes you a lot of pain.”

“There’s no pain,” she replied, “and I can tell that you want to make love to me.” She reached down and slid her hand across the tent in my trousers.

“A man’s body always wants to have sex,” I replied. “It’s my mind that you have to convince it is OK.”

“You are a really nice man,” she said as she snuggled more tightly into me, almost burying her face.

“What makes you say that?” I answered. A lot of the time, I don’t consider myself a nice man.

“For one, you rescued me from whatever you thought might happen to me,” she said, looking up at me.

“Anyone who knows what is what would have done that,” I replied flatly. “There are too many people out there who would take advantage of someone like you.”

“What is someone like me?” she asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Someone who is addicted to pain or thinks they deserve to be punished,” I answered. “If you don’t have someone to control you, you will keep seeking pain and punishment until you destroy yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said thoughtfully. “There is just one wicked thing for which I needed to be punished.”

“So you don’t need further punishment?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. If she had willingly subjected herself to what Mistress Latisha did, she was seriously seeking pain and you don’t just turn that off.

“What I need now,” she said, stroking my chest through my shirt, “is for someone to make gentle love to me like he promised.”

“Then I think we should move this into the bedroom,” I said as I stood up and picked her up off the couch. For her height, she was surprisingly light.

As we went into the bedroom, I said, “I have a friend who is going to be mad at me over this.”

“Why?” she asked as I set her on the bed.

“Because he wanted me to make love to someone else tonight,” I answered. “But it would have been impossible anyway. I hope I can find some other way to get him out of the trouble he’s in.”

“See,” she said, sitting up and sliding off her dress, “you are a nice man. You are worried about your friend. What kind of trouble is he in?”

I laughed and said, “It’s the type that is hard to explain and most people wouldn’t believe me anyway. And besides, we have something more pleasant to think about.”

Her only reply was an “mmmmm” as I slipped out of my clothes and slid into bed alongside her.

As I ran my hands down her body, I was surprised that she seemed to be covered all over by that fine, downy, whitish hair. It was most dense on her mound of Venus, but it was everywhere.

“You have a Marilyn Monroe body,” I said softly.

“I think I’m rather skinny,” she replied.

“No,” I said. “Marilyn Monroe always appeared to almost glow in her movies. Some people thought it was some special trick with the light, but the real reason was the fact that she had very fine hair almost all over her body and it caught the light and made her glow.”

“I’ll have to try that sometime,” she said as she pressed herself against me. “Right now, I feel like I am on fire.”

“Let’s see if we can make that fire hotter,” I said as my hands trailed down her naked body. Her nipples were standing erect and she moaned loudly as I passed the palms of my hands over them, rubbing them in small circles in the cup of my hand.

She reached down and began stroking my penis. “You said slow and gentle,” I said firmly, “so that means that I have to control the throttle.”

She looked confused, so I said, “A man reacts much faster than a woman. If I let you rub me the way I am rubbing you, it will cause things to go much faster and possibly less gently.”

“Oh,” she said. Then she raised her knees slightly and opened her legs wide before adding, “Then I am yours to command or control or whatever. Just be gentle and loving.”

“I will,” I said as I lay alongside her, playing with her body. She was young and beautiful and eager and I was rock hard and ready, but I had promised her we would go slow and gentle.

Biology has its own speedometer and timer and it wasn’t too long before she was undulating on the bed and lifting herself up towards my hands whenever I was anywhere near her sex.

“I think it’s time,” she said through gritted teeth as she lifted herself high off the bed.

“Yes,” I answered, “I think it’s time.”

I shifted onto my knees and positioned myself between her legs. Unlike when she was being punished, her slit now glistened with her fluids. My fingers had found no trouble sliding inside of her and my prick also gained easy entry.

I pushed in slowly, letting her adjust to my girth. Then I felt something blocking me. She was a virgin!

I tried to pull back and make sure she wanted this, but she rammed herself up against me, breaking through her hymen and burying me balls deep within her.

“Slow and gentle,” she said as she undulated against me.

I tried to keep it slow and gentle, but the mind can only control so much. I eventually got to the fast short strokes and then drove myself hard into her, spurting my seed into her womb.

She wrapped her arms and legs around me and began keening in an almost melodious fashion as she experienced a series of orgasms.

It took her a while to finally settle down. I waited until she was breathing normally and started to shift my weight off of her.

“No, stay,” she said quickly.

“But I’m crushing you,” I replied.

“Ever the nice man,” she said, “but you’re not crushing me... as long as you are lying flat across most of my body.”

We lay like that for several minutes. Then I laughed and said, “This is where one of us says they have to go to the bathroom.” I laughed again, “Since you haven’t said it, I will.”

I finished pulling my flaccid prick out of her and stood up. When I came back from the bathroom, she was curled up on her side. I curled up around her. In response, she said, “mmmmm” and wiggled her ass against me.

“Be careful doing that,” I said, “you could start something all over again.”

“But you’re a nice man and will just cuddle me until morning,” she replied and closed her eyes.

I don’t know if I cuddled her all night or not, but the next thing I knew, it was morning and the sun was shining in through the windows. I looked up at the morning sun and then gasped loudly. Danny Boy was standing on the window sill in all his half-inch glory, dressed in traditional leprechaun green. Next to him sat a pot of gold about the size of a pea.

“I knew you could do it,” he said loudly inside my head. Evidently, he didn’t need to be six-foot-tall to be loud.

“But I didn’t do it,” I said.

Tinkerbell sat up on the bed and turned to face me. “Do you know what the rule of three is in magic?” she asked.

“Uh... ... no,” I answered.

“Evil magic has to be pointed at someone,” she said, pointing at the door to the room. “But when you point that finger at someone, you have three fingers pointed back at you, so you receive three times the evil that you sent out.”

“I still don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “What does this have to do with Danny Boy getting his pot of gold back?”

“I stole his precious pot,” she said, “and used it to make him one hundred times taller and then half again.” Danny Boy nodded in agreement. “But three fingers were pointed back at me,” she said, “so I grew three times more than he did.”

She smiled at me and said, “I had to return what I had stolen and I had to be punished for what I did. Last night at the party, the punishment was provided. And after last night, here I had the power to return Danny Boy’s golden pot.”

I stared down at her. “You are the Fairy Queen?” I gasped.

“Of course,” she said. “And you, nice man, are my power giver.”

“What is your name?” I asked. “You said you would tell me in the morning.”

“I also said that you would never be able to pronounce it,” she replied with a smile. “But I will tell you the name by which the Fairy Queen has been known through the ages. My name is Titania. You can still call me Tie for short.”

She laughed slightly and added, “And I will tell you a secret. Fairy Queens or even Fairy Princesses don’t need wings to fly. People who accidentally see us just assume that we have wings.”

After that, she rose into the air above the bed. Her naked body seemed to glow with a golden light as she slowly shrank back to her normal tiny size.

“Thank you, mister nice man,” she said within my head and then disappeared.

“I thank you also,” Danny Boy said from the window sill. “And as a token of my thanks, I left a little present for you on your kitchen table.” As he began to fade away, he added, “That’s real gold from my personal magic pot.”

I looked around my bedroom. I was now alone... I think. Danny Boy was gone, same as Titania. But when the wee people gather around you, who knows who else might be tagging along.

I shrugged my shoulders and went into the kitchen to see what Danny Boy had left me. True to his word, there were five golden coins from his magic pot. Each was about the size of a pencil point. I laughed and carefully scraped them into a small plastic bag. As I put the small bag containing the miniature treasure in my desk, I said aloud, “And that’s why I never get involved with leprechauns and fairies... well, almost never.”