CHAPTER 3

"What about fairies?"

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, answer me."

"What about them?"

"Aren't they a little too small for the deed?"

"I've heard there are ways to change your perspective about size with those girls…"

What Adira was couldn't be properly described, at least, no that easily. Fairies are normally processed as the great protagonists of many stories, but they're supposed to be lesser beasts. In fact, they tend to be barely capable of thought beyond vanity and self-centered ideas leading only to a narcissistic persona that goes widely unnoticed thanks to their insect-like features. That is... to be easily ignored in a world where other creatures seem to have a greater presentation, dragging around important concepts in the legends they breathe life into through the roles they assume and the obstacle they represent.

After all, how could such a thing as vanity even manifest through the proportional façade of a firefly? How could such a tiny thing even be allowed to present concepts like flamboyance and egotism?

Adira was the answer to that… she was a fairy like none other. Every now and then, she would show herself during one of the many feasts the wizarding school presented. Always going hand in hand with the current event, from the Start-of-term to the Halloween ceremony, she normally picks one of those per year which allowed an aura of mystery to be born among the students. This eventually meant that somebody, somehow, somewhere… would ask about her. Very soon her name was given a certain importance that would even put some ghosts to shame, which is saying a lot when the whole life (and death) of a person can be deeply obscured by a concept more than anything. A little fantasy given life through themed costumes, and quirky poses.

I would put it like this: If you want to have a look at the life and work of one of the many famous characters of history, you may read a book about them, you may even find them gliding through a wall… try to make something like that fit to a fairy that stands right between curiosity and utter oblivion, imagine trying to identify or asking around for the tallest dwarf of the bank!

You can't, it's that simple… but she achieved such a thing.

Her name became a primary point of interest for boys and girls alike, her natural attractiveness could drag a student's interest through all the years they spend in the wizarding school to the end. What was a childish interest at first would very easily become a wild curiosity, a feeble jealousy and even… a twisted lust.

Nonetheless, it wasn't like that for everybody. There was a man that never turned his head to have a look at her, it was the man she would tempt the most with her presence to no avail and funnily enough, he himself was the source of all that made her stand out among the rest of her kind.

He's a teacher.

In the beginning, she thought that he saw something different when they met for the first time. Her wet lips, her long hair, her openness to experience… or something along the alluring concept of a fully developed woman in the palm of his hand. But as time passed, it seemed that she wasn't "Adira" in his eyes, but another winged creature no different from any other beast. The coldness he presented when he swung his wand and granted her the gift of speech would never leave, it was almost as if he had done this with the mere purpose of experimentation rather than gracious courtesy.

"Good evening, professor."

That's what made her special, the possibility to speak when the rest of her kind couldn't even do more than buzz around to communicate. An ability that was granted by him, the man who wasn't surprised in the slightest with her presentation, her curvaceous figure, or the tender layers of makeup she would show off to distinguish herself from her lot.

This night… she had flown around the towers of the castle with another meeting as an excuse, she went through the window of his office and found him staring at his collection of little beasts and mythical creatures, which were stored in vases filled with a transparent liquid, immobile and lifeless, filling the room entire through shelves and drawers.

Even under the real face of danger and madness, she would come over and stand on his desk. She's a long-haired blonde, with a waterfall braid, wearing the red petals of a rose as a tight dress that works wonderfully with her figure. She would always show the right amount of skin to lie right there at the peak of temptation with moderation, where barely any effort had to be done to understand what makes her stand out that much as she opens her mouth once more only to be interrupted by him.

"What do you want?" he asked, leaning back on his chair, and looking away.

"I just wanted to check on you, it's been some time already."

"Since what?"

"Since our last encounter, of course!"

Truth to be told, he would rather lose himself in the dead visages of dozens like her. It was almost the apparently hidden contempt that drove her crazy about him. He wouldn't look in her way during the feasts, he wouldn't even want to be near and hear her voice. It was the gracious disdain that made her come close and try to pry open his heart.

She starts marching like a soldier as she approaches, and he merely pushes her around to pick one of the many jars where her kin resided. He looked at it for a while before focusing on her with a couple of blue eyes that differed greatly from the lighting of his office, his black hair was elegantly tied in a casual ponytail that gave him a rebellious component that was absent in the rest of the teachers. He was one of the youngest of this time, and the loneliest too.

Funnily enough, she would appear in his classes from time to time and lighten up the mood of his students by merely being there, listening to him do his talks, teaching about conjuration and such. The frequency of her visits to the class would later be a problem when some… interesting drawings about her could be found lying around. At first, many students thought of her as one of his many achievements, a way to spark the interest in the class he taught, but this was far from reality.

Truth to be told, this professor didn't need extra resources to gather the attention of the student body. Thanks to his looks, it was very frequent to always have a lot of interest coming from a certain part of his audience and there was enough of it to be noticeable. It was at this point where the small creature played a significant role in the status quo of the classroom, getting on the nerves of the girls that wanted to show off how capable they were as witches.

It was funny, the small creature would always appear with different petals of flowers playing the role of a variety of dresses and attires that were leagues above the uniform they were forced to wear. At one point she appeared wearing a leotard made with the white petals of an orchid, which meant problem when she could easily pass as being totally naked thanks to the tricks of the light.

She knew the effect her presence had in men and women alike, she was certain that many here would force her to strip naked if it weren't for the teacher's presence or perhaps… that's what she wanted to believe. She loved to think that they'll throw themselves at her as rabid animals if it weren't for his judging stare, she yearned for an adoration so extreme that it could harm her. Being crushed between caresses and kisses would've been everything she desired if it wasn't for him and his seemingly unbreakable character. In fact, she doesn't even remember the last time she wore a dress with not a single trace of ill intent.

Attention was the only thing keeping her truly alive, she simply loved the way people stared at her and despite all that there was only one thing she lacked off and it was… him.

She decided to walk until the next one of her kind was right in front of her, carefully preserved with that foreign alcohol he used. She exchanged some looks with him while she turned around and put her hands on her waist. It was almost as if she had been juggling with the possibilities of ending right where her sister was. Then, she jumped up and reached the lid with her hands, pulling herself up as an acrobat would, bringing attention to her hips while getting a little support through her flight abilities to open the jar and let the top get away without care, it would roll dangerously until it fell off the desk.

She bent over the open jar and looked down, it would have looked like a simple mischief if it weren't for the preserving alcohol he used… still, from her point of view it seemed that there was something else to it besides being his preferred method of preservation, especially in a time where there are better ways to keep things from fading away because of time.

She had heard of that before, childhood traumas reaching deeply into the psyche of a man and transforming themselves into a fetish. A vice that would change the way they look at the world around them and lead them to a dark place where pleasure can reach another layer of being, deeply entangled with something that marked them for life without even knowing.

There must've been something to it, it was merely hope that made her dip her hand in the alcohol to take a handful. Then, she raised her hand in the air, right above her.

Adira let it fall on her face, she tilted her head upwards and arched her back while it happened. It was the only thing that caused a reaction from his serene façade, almost a childish awe that led him to a subtle gasp of air that couldn't be heard by normal means. Her body twitched as a response to the mild trauma it could have occurred, but sooner than later… another move took place. She let the jar open, sat on the edge, and turned around while crossing her legs. She revealed to him the alcohol taking her makeup away, slowly, with a certain charmful decadence drawing black rivers on her cheeks.

She had a smug expression on her face while the black of her eyeliner went along the red of her blush, it was a moment where she could've been set on fire by his gaze alone. He laid eyes on her with a form of weakness taking over for the first time since forever, as if he was the one small of size in front a dragon, or a demon, and not a fairy.

He remained with silence as the mechanism to face her, but it was useless… he was already charmed by a mixture of his vice and her unrelenting lust for admiration. The alcohol was getting her dress wet, it had started to tighten up on her skin as it drew a trail from her breast to her belly, reaching her hips. A single drop could be seen wandering her thigh as it reached the knee giving an open way for a free fall down her leg.

She went down from the jar then, not making a single sound to stand there and look back at him while the human designs of charm itself wash off her face. Somehow, someway… this made him attempt a move on her. He stretched his hands towards her only to stop himself halfway there, he lets his open hand rest on the edge of the desk to keep the appearances up and regrets it right after, because a single twitch of his index finger became an invitation to disaster that she gladly accepted. That single move could've been the last proud thing he did on his life.

She walked there with the pomposity of a model, and right before getting in his grasp, she marked off the limits pressing on the tip of his finger with her bare toes. She remained there while he lit up a candle and the fire could be seen moving in his eyes.

To be admired for a man of his size lies only in the realm of fantasy in her kind, to stumble on his finger and let him feel the entirety of her is something only very few could be allowed to dream with and so, she stepped onto his hand.

To be held, caressed, toyed with, it's something a normal woman couldn't understand on this scale… it simply goes beyond their reach. For her, to be capable of producing desire in a man is like being able to successfully tempt a giant, a creature of another realm… for her, is bringing him down like no sword could in a thousand different lives and she can't do more than rejoice in the fact that right now this seems like a plausible possibility.

He's surely felling the cold alcohol reaching his skin by now, a simple trace enough to know how close they were of each other at the current time. She touched her hips and highlighted her figure while tightening her attire and flailing slightly. She let her hair loose as she stepped forward and stood cleanly in the palm of his hand, where she turned around and presented her back to him. She started moving her body in a wavy manner, slowly but remarkably enough to see a long shadow dancing on his own.

Then, she introduces her fingers in the petals at her ribcage's height where a little gap can be seen and tears it open to produce a wider one... with one single finger she would make a way across it until the threshold of her waist is reached. She stopped briefly there only to increase the intensity of her little dance and continued even further to her thigh; a single click would be heard then, marking off the point of release, perfectly perceptible through the shadow where the broken dress could be identifiable through a weird angle in her silhouette.

The brief period of silence would be broken by her attire once more, this time, she harshly took care of what was left and threw it away while letting the weight of her body rest on the left leg alone. She felt his pulse under her feet, increasing in speed progressively while merely a couple of seconds passed by, and a burning sensation made itself present in her chest.

She's no different from a fully developed woman. In fact, she was certain that… she could bring upon him something a woman of his kind could never provide. The unforgettable experience of a doll-like love, next to the flickering light of a candle.

At first, he would use the index finger of his free hand to press slightly on her neck, to which she would puff out her chest and make the perfect curve for his finger to slide on. He would gently go downwards and reach her lower back, where he will stop for a couple of seconds before going back up and repeat the motion for at least two more times before daring to go for her right leg… the one that makes a perfect obtuse angle thanks to her posture, where her skin has the right balance between soft and firm.

Then, he goes back up and stops on her waist this time, where he would flex his finger slightly and have a free sample of how the front feels. For her, of course, this was a little pull that made her whole-body shiver. He had slightly reached the inner part of her thigh, she had to put some effort in bouncing back to her flirty posture, and the warmth his hand provided could only keep increasing as the situation overwhelmed her in a way she couldn't have predicted. Still, he didn't move his finger at all, the pressure he exercised on that point increased progressively as she felt a weird arousal filling her while the muscle of her thigh started contracting to keep up.

He would proceed to move his hand carefully with the goal of putting her right in front of him, he wasn't even done with this motion when the index finger of the hand where she stepped on started flexing to caress her leg from the front.

Now there was pressure coming from both sides, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, his grasp almost felt as a challenge of sorts, a challenge that would feel like a loss when he ran his previously still finger across all her leg, ending the motion on the palm of his hand and problematically trapping her between the two of them.

This would make her get support on him to not fall, unconsciously acquiring and even more alluring position she would acknowledge. She looked over her shoulder and with a mischievous smile on her face she would talk to him with a tone of voice that could make any man tumble down on her.

"You're one of a kind, aren't you?"

The flickering light would provide the atmosphere with a trance-like sensation that makes it look as if time couldn't pass in this room. He ran his free hand across all her body from the neck down in a move where he managed to press on her breasts slightly and meet her waist on the way down, she couldn't do more that breathe in and keep her mouth open. His thumb had started stroking her available ankle repeatedly and she started moving it as well, first stepping on her toes… then on the heel, secretly hoping this could stimulate him as much as her.

And once more he would attempt to run down his hand on her body, only to meet the resistance of her arms that made him stop at the height of her breast, where she would provoke caresses as she held him tightly in place. He would use his first three fingers to apply pressure on her shoulders, her breast, and her back continuously. For her it was like being constantly beaten by the waves of the high seas, being pushed to one side, and dragged to the other. She was pressed and released while the stimuli made her soft skin harden itself as if preparing for the incoming impact that would begin with him going a little lower and reaching waist level.

Then, he would keep himself in place while she caressed him and tried to get something else by merely touching more of his fingers' surface. To be in his grip and feel her hips being slightly touched by the inner surface of his hand provided her with a sense of pleasure that could only be defined as a warning sign, a lingering threat that made her body itch for more while two of his fingers stroke her belly, his thumb slides down her hips and stops behind the left knee. She started spreading her legs apart, sliding her left feet across the surface of his hand slightly as he took the liberty of holding her whole leg with his hand, as much as he could in a moment where his own heartbeat could be heard, no longer felt across the skin of his hand but heard as the rhythm of her own.

The brief pause would be followed by his lips touching her back in a moment where she could merely sigh while a kiss took form and extended itself in the shape of constant caresses. They would make her briefly lie down at the presence of his whole face right behind her, his hand would abandon her leg, move to the front of her body, and tighten up her place while his breath could be felt as the warming embrace of a lover. Her now hardened breast would meet an ever-increasing sense of exploration from his part, and the rough components of his caress would switch every now and then to a moment where he would find her nipples and stay there for a little longer while the kisses on her back reached the height of her shoulders, to end on her neck while she held his fingers and made him tighten the grip on the front.

He pulled her closer, accommodated his hand to make her bend over and increase even more the effect of his presence on her. The mere sound of her voice trying to find a way would make him increase the intensity of his approach to a point where it seemed he could no longer keep going without harm being a tangible reality.

And still, he kept going.

His kisses increased in intensity, his heavy breathing would warmth her body and make it shiver with delicious anxiety. The beating would continue until fear was crushed to pieces and she turned around to smile at him as she stretched her arms above her head and puffed out her chest for him alone.

He continued kissing her then, to feel his lips struggle on her was even more stimulating than she could've imagined. Her breasts were being played by his lips, and those, very frequently would escape the specific spot below her neck and above her waist to reach even lower and make her body twitch at the incoming event. His hands had become the bed where she would lie down as the entirety of her body was felt, stimulated, and elevated to something that wouldn't be possible in other circumstances.

Her arms spread open as she lets herself be absorbed by his wickedness, journeying across her body in a way no other creature could have, over and over. She would try to hold him to no avail, only to be overwhelmed by what he meant in the moment where she would gladly have it all and more. It was then that he started going down and one of her hands would take care of making one of her legs spread open as he reached her open lap and started kissing, licking, and breathing all over the lower part of her body.

Her hips would try to dance around his movement, just to make him reach even more of her while he kept filling her with arousal and attempted to trap her clitoris between her lips. He was pressing upon it, as if kissing her all over weren't enough to drive her away of the world she belonged. Just for one moment the thought of having his height would wander around, only to be completely neglected as she understood that, if that were to happen, this would've never taken place… could've never taken place. There was no way in the world than being the same as him would bring her the current amount of pleasure, surrender and release. It came all to a point where they would merely look at each other while breathing fast, barely able to understand the road that had taken them here.

He started ripping off his own shirt and let it fall around him as he leaned back and brought her towards him, she lied down on his chest while feeling his heartbeat with her whole body, asking even more from her as he started unzipping his pants. She decided to climb down on her own when his erect penis came into the frame, and she leaned against it while pushing herself with her legs meeting his lower abdomen.

She would try to wrap her arms around it, but she couldn't. It was then that she decided to turn around and hold onto it with her legs as she started rubbing herself on it. Her back drawing arcs in the air, her legs tightening and releasing progressively as she started moaning and feeling his oscillation in a unique way.

She kept going until pleasure achieved new heights, and she decided to reach for the tip while his penis pulsed aggressively. She pressed herself on it as he ejaculated, and the semen reached her vastly. Some must've reached her insides for sure, but it was surely something that could be easily dealt with in this time and age.

And after all that… silence.

A silence so deep that could have turned off the candles on its own, he softly reached for her with his other hand while she explored the little tremor that had taken possession of his fingers. It was a fleeting thing that could've been a dream.

Nonetheless, his grip continued increasing until movement was severely restricted, something she enjoyed until there was too much strength being used to think of this as another expression of love. Suddenly, harshly, she's lifted in the air and introduced in the open jar with her dead sister. His hand pressing down on her while a swing of the wand fills it entirely with alcohol and another one brings the lid upon it once more.

She can hardly find some solace in her sister's cold expression while the light abandons his office.

That single move could've been the last proud thing he did on his life, it could have been… but it wasn't.

Author's note:

Thank you for reading!

Goa here, I really hope you had a good time reading this chapter! Have a good day and take care!