The Baptism of the Fae

I led her deeper into the jungle, away from the paths the Lost Boys used, to a place where the foliage grew thick and ancient. Sunlight pierced the canopy in focused beams, illuminating the floating motes of pollen like gold dust. We found what we were looking for in the crook of a massive, moss-covered branch: a Giant Bromeliad. The flower was vibrant red, its petals thick and waxy, forming a perfect, natural basin. It held a small pool of morning dew at the bottom.

"Here," I said, pointing to the flower.

Tinkerbell stared at it, her chest heaving. She reached for the buttons of her stolen pirate shirt, her fingers trembling with anticipation. She shrugged the fabric off, letting it fall to the jungle floor, standing before me in all her naked, curvaceous glory one last time. She reached into her bag, scraping the very bottom to find the last few grains of pink dust.

She looked at me, her blue eyes burning with a submissive fever that bordered on madness. "Bury me, Master," she whispered, her voice thick. "Don't leave a single inch of me untouched."

She sprinkled the dust over her head. Poof.

The heavy, lush woman vanished in a swirl of golden light. In her place, a tiny sparkle drifted down. She landed in the center of the giant flower, her feet splashing into the shallow dew. She was small again. Five inches of perfection. But the dynamic had shifted completely. She wasn't the innocent fairy sidekick anymore. She stood in the center of the red petals, looking up at me. I was a titan to her now, my cock alone larger and heavier than her whole body, a god blocking out the sun, a mountain of flesh and power looming over her world.

She spread her arms wide, her translucent wings fluttering rapidly, creating ripples in the water around her ankles. She tilted her head back, exposing her throat, her tiny chest rising and falling. "Ready!" she chimed, her voice a high, bell-like sound that barely reached my ears. "Do it! Drown me!"

I stepped closer, positioning myself over the flower. To her, the sight must have been terrifyingly majestic, a pillar of creation hovering directly above her. I took myself in hand. The sheer scale difference was intoxicating. The idea of this tiny, magical creature wanting to be drowned in my essence pushed me to the edge instantly. I stroked myself, locking eyes with the speck of gold below.

"Get ready, Tink," I rumbled, my voice shaking the leaves around us.

I released.

To a human, it was a few heavy spurts. To Tinkerbell, it was a cataclysm. The first wave hit her like a mortar shell. A heavy, thick globule of white slammed into her chest with concussive ****, knocking her flat into the dew. She didn't struggle. She didn't try to shield herself. She embraced the impact. The second wave buried her completely. The third filled the cup of the flower.

I emptied myself into the bromeliad, pouring every drop of my strength into the red chalice. When I was finally done, Tinkerbell was gone. The flower was no longer red; it was filled with a thick, viscous pool of white, swirling with the displaced water.

Silence settled over the jungle. For a moment, I worried I had actually crushed her.

Then, the surface broke. Splosh.

Tink swam to the surface, gasping for air. Her hair was plastered to her skull, heavy and slick. Her wings were coated, weighed down, dragging behind her like a bridal train of fluid. Her skin was completely white. She looked like a statue dipped in liquid marble.

She didn't wipe it off. She floated on her back in the dense fluid, paddling with her hands to stay afloat. She opened her mouth, catching the drips falling from her own hair, laughing—a wet, gurgling chime of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

"It's everywhere!" she squealed, rubbing the warm fluid into her arms, massaging it into her face like a lotion. "I'm swimming in you! I can't smell the flowers anymore! I only smell King!"

She dove under again, rolling in it. I watched the surface ripple as she swam through the depths of my seed, soaking every pore of her magical body in my DNA. She was marinating herself in my claim, letting the magic of her biology absorb the essence of mine.

She surfaced again, spitting a stream of white into the air like a fountain, giggling wildly. "It’s warm!" she chimed, floating lazily, her eyes rolling back in her head. "It’s so heavy. It feels like armor."

I watched her for a moment longer, captivated by the sight. She was a living jewel, suspended in the amber of my essence, a creature who had just devoted her entire existence to drowning in me.

"You are a masterpiece, Tink," I said softly, my voice filled with genuine reverence. "You've bound yourself to me in a way no spell could ever break."

She stopped swimming, treading the viscous liquid. She looked up, her eyes shining with absolute adoration. "I am yours," she chimed, her voice vibrating through the petals. "In every size. In every world. I am yours."

"I know," I murmured. "But the world needs its Queen back. It's time to rise."

She looked around the flower, realizing her predicament. She was too small to climb out, and without the dust, she was trapped in her bliss. I reached over to the pile of clothes she had discarded on the jungle floor. I picked up her small pouch. I shook it; it was nearly empty, but a fine residue of pink dust still clung to the velvet lining.

"Ready?" I asked, holding the pouch over the flower.

She nodded, taking a deep breath, preparing her body. She spread her arms, floating on her back, opening herself to the magic one last time.

I turned the pouch inside out, shaking the glittering dust over the white pool. The sparks hit the fluid and ignited. FLASH.

The expansion was violent and magnificent. She exploded outward, the magic pulling the fluid with her, stretching it as she grew. She landed on the jungle floor on her hands and knees, gasping as the air rushed back into her human-sized lungs.

The visual was staggering. She was no longer naked skin. She was coated from head to toe in a glaze of drying seed. It matted her blonde hair into thick ropes. It streaked her face, dripped from her eyelashes, and coated her breasts and stomach in a second skin. Even her wings were wet and heavy with it.

She stood up slowly, shivering not from cold, but from the intensity of the sensation. She looked down at herself, watching a drop slide from her nipple to her navel. She ran a hand down her arm, scraping off a layer of the fluid, and licked it off her fingers with a slow, deliberate sloth.

"It soaked in," she whispered, her voice husky and deep. "My magic... it absorbed it. I feel you in my blood now."

She looked at me, her eyes wide and dark, filled with a terrifyingly beautiful devotion. "I am made of you now, Master. You can leave the island... but you can never leave me."