The Wood Sprite [rape] [M/f] [fantasy] [size difference] [non-con to con] [standing] [from behind]

> A sweet little tale that I couldn’t get out of my head today. All characters are above the age of eighteen.

Frolicking in the pond and picking colourful wildflowers in the midmorning sun, the wood sprites did not see the hunter lurking in the trees. He thought they might have heard his heartbeat, which beat like a wardrum in his ears, but they did not – content to weave the bright snapdragons, larkspur, and bluebells into each other’s hair. Praying to the gods above for luck, he hurled himself into the glen.

The sprites scattered, girlish screams echoing through the woods. The wiser ones vanished into the branches of their trees, while the smallest one continued on foot, her golden hair streaming behind her like a beacon.

The hunter caught her before she escaped the glen, his strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she squealed as he lifted her off her feet. She wriggled and fought with an indignant fury, her delicate hands lashing out at him, cursing him in an ancient language, but it was useless. Inhumanly light in his arms, he held her tightly with one arm as he freed himself from his breeches.

Thankfully, she was already naked, for sprites wear no clothes. He groaned as the swollen head of his cock brushed against her lips, dewy with arousal, even as she struggled. As he positioned her wriggling form, the bristles of his beard scraped against the back of her neck.

Her thin legs kicked and trembled, and she cried out as he began to press inside of her. His cock was thicker than her arm, and she was so very small.

If she was human, his size and girth would have broken her.

But she wasn’t, and like a tree grows around a stone placed in it’s trunk, her body molded to his.

The hunter grunted as he slowly impaled her on his manhood – the perfect, wet heat consuming his senses. Her rosebud mouth fell open and she melted in his arms, her gaze flickering sightlessly as her fury washed away, forgotten.

It is well known by those that study the fae that sprites are too small to contain more than one emotion at a time, a truth the hunter knew all too well. As pleasure blossomed within the golden-haired sprite, she whimpered and stilled. The hunter grinned like a wolf, knowing the battle was won.

He cradled her small body in his arms, lifting her upwards and downwards on his cock. Her moans, as delicate as a half-remembered melody, began to rise from her throat. Her sisters, watching from the woods, stopped shaking in fear – and began to watch. Soon enough, his manhood was slick with her arousal, and her head lolled against his shoulder.

Breathing hard, the hunter lay her down on the mossy banks of the pond, letting her sharp fingers dig into the earth. As he held her hips, her rump pressed back into each of his desperate thrusts, the wet slap of their bodies colliding echoing through the trees. Like the animals that were her cousins, the sprite began to wail. Around them, her sisters grew feverish with their own lust, and began to satisfy each other with delicate tongues and quick fingertips.

She came with an aching cry, her small body spasming. She tightened around him, and the hunter’s eyes rolled wildly – and he burst inside of her. His seed flowed into her womb, hot and thick. The sprite whimpered, the human seed unlike anything she had ever known.

He held her close in his arms until he fell asleep, and she wriggled from his arms without waking him. The hunter’s creamy seed dripped down her thigh, leaving a trail as she rejoined her sisters. They giggled as the white droplets along the earth burst into snapdragons, larkspur, and bluebells.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hbkd7r/the_wood_sprite_rape_mf_fantasy_size_difference

2 comments

  1. This is way fucking hotter than it has any business being, lmao.

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