Jack is working as a farmhand

"About time boy, hurry up!"

Jack let out a small groan as the farm owner, a cranky women named Methilda barked at him. The thirty-something widow had lost her husband to a pack of goblins two years ago and ever since then Jack had been doing all the farm work for her. He hated being a farmhand, and he hated Mathilda. What should be a strong-featured beauty always had her face crunched in a scowl, and he long dark hair seemed to be in a constantly state of duress as it danced around her face and overly modest grey dress that covered her entire body.

"The sun has barley risen." Jack said.

"And you should be here before the light is visible!" Mathilda snapped. "Now chop that wood, snap to it you lazy boy!"

I'll chop you, you sexually repressed bitch. Jack thought bitterly as he grabbed the wood axe while Mathilda went inside.

Jacks morning proceeded as normal, the sun rose and he chopped log after log while Mathilda scowled at him from her kitchen. Little did either know however that there were other guests at the farm, in the form of pixies.

The tiny, fairy-like creatures would, if you examined them closely look like human women, albeit naked, multi-colored and with butterfly wings. The male pixies were rarely seen and often regarded as recluses but the females are known of their mischief, powerful magic and a completely lack of understanding as to why humans wore the skin of animals and plants over their bodies.

This particular group of five, two-inch tall pixies were fluttering about outside the farm, and took a keen interest in Jack and those pair of unsightly brown leggings...