My Stars Ch. 03

The orchard appeared, dark and still. Jordan's first time through, following the capricious Helena, she had felt rushed and much, much safer.

The trees around her were dark blue, offering shadows at best to help her identify anything that may have been lingering within the woods. She was grateful for subtly glowing pathways, but was having trouble remembering which one to take. Her gut told her to go left, so Jordan did.

She passed a pool and heard a splash. Her heart leapt as she saw a darkened figure emerging from the weeds and mire at the edge of the rippling water.

"Ah, young princess," said a croaking voice.

She saw it was the frog-man, Yerbert. He was wearing a three-piece suit, a surprisingly fine tailored thing, given he was a beast that apparently lived in muck, "Hello, Yerbert," she said amicably.

"What, pray-tell brings you back with us on such a fine night?" he asked, his large eyes blinking upward under a pair of clear and slimy membranes.

"Does the weather change here?" she asked at his description of the orchard. Looking at the sky, she spotted more stars than she'd ever seen dotting the heavens above, but not a single cloud.

"It does not," he said disappointedly, "yet, any night you return is a fine one with us."

"Us?" she queried glancing about the wood.

"There are many here, some shy, others too violent to allow them free movement, except in the time of necessity," Yerbert said. "But I bore you, your grace. Surely you have come seeking something."

"The Pool of Possibilities," she said. "I increased my memory, but it seems to be failing me."

"Of course, of course," croaked the amphibian. "There is a powerful illusion in place to keep it safe. I, as caretaker may allow you passage to it."

"That would be most helpful," she said with deep relief.

"I merely require that you present to me - your bottom," he said with a gracious bow.

"My bottom?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes, madam," Yerbert said apologetically. "We fey may be imprinted by one another. To do so requires manipulation of the anus in a certain manner."

"My mother told me you enjoy butt-stuff," said Jordan in an accusatory tone. "You did this to me before, pretending you didn't know what a sex toy was."

"A 'sex' toy?" he said as though lost to its meaning and mildly offended. "I have no idea what you could be on about, your grace. If you are referring to the instrument I so diligently tried to remove from your posterior last evening, then I assure you, Madam, I was merely acting in your best interest."

She gave him a sidelong look, "So my mother said you were into ass-play, but really it's just how we charmed-folk recognize one another?"

"Very true, my lady," said the frog-man respectfully. "It is a simple procedure, most fey find it a pleasant enough experience."

She touched her bum and slid a hand over her skirt fabric, "It won't hurt?"

"You'll barely know I'm there, your grace," Yerbert assured her.

Jordan gave a small frown and hiked up her dress. Slowly she turned toward him, "Could you do me a favour?"

"If it is within my power, then of course," said the creature.

"Could you change forms," she asked, feeling horrible for asking, while at the same time sickened by the thought of him doing quasi-sexual things to her while looking like a swamp-monster.

Yerbert seemed taken aback by her request, "We bogies generally do not change shape, lest we run the risk of forgetting our purpose."

"If it's too much trouble..." she began, disappointed.

"I did not say I would not, my lady," sighed Yerbert. "Just that to do so would put a strain on me. What shape would you prefer?"

"Something more handsome," she suggested. "More human."

He frowned as though working through a difficult dilemma and then nodded. She watched as he transformed from a squat, ugly frog-thing into a tall, lanky scarecrow of a man, one dressed as though he'd stepped straight from the eighteenth century, "My finest human guise."

He bowed low to her, his white, curly wig almost brushing the cobblestones of the path. He seemed human enough, save the way he moved with an unnatural gait; as though he were a puppet being moved about on invisible strings, rather than by flesh and blood. His features were hauntingly handsome, yet hollow, as though his face were wooden and unused to displaying emotion.

"Thank you," she said, looking at his long hands and thick fingers apprehensively. Slowly she turned, hiked up her skirt and bent at the waist.

"Farther down, if you please," he insisted and pushed her so far forward Jordan had to grab her ankles for support. The snap of a glove being put on sounded out behind her. "That's perfect, madam."

She felt one of his fingers press against her and she was amazed to find how warm it felt. For some reason she expected it to be like a doctor's check up with a icicle, but it was actually mildly pleasant. He pressed in and her ass easily accommodated his presence. Considering she'd been using anal toys for awhile she had no serious worries about discomfort.

"In a bit more," Yerbert croaked and she found herself contracting pleasurably as he eased his way inside. He felt around and Jordan was surprised over just how aroused she was getting.

"Odd," Yerbert stoically commented. "I should have found it by now. Bare with me, my lady."

His finger started to move in and out forcefully and she gasped aloud. Her hands grabbing the handrail of the bridge to steady herself as she pushed back against the invasion.

His finger suddenly seemed bigger, as he moved it in and out she swore the digit might actually have been growing in size.

"What a pickle," Yerbert mumbled and slid deeper still. She moaned as a pleasurable shudder passed through her and he rubbed her back with he free hand, "Steady girl, you're doing wonderfully."

Jordan's body seized after several minutes of his probing, her pussy spasmed and she felt droplets run down her thighs. A wave of euphoria hit her and still the bogie continued to ram at her insides as if trying to reach the deepest parts of her.

She screamed in shock as her orgasm ripped through her, like a bolt of lightening that made her shake with an overwhelming mixture of barely suppressed pain and unyielding pleasure.

"There," he said as her knees collapsed and his probing finger popped from her. "A note for next time, my princess. Your fey-spot is located very far into you. I fear it shall take all of my many, many talents to help you should you have any further need of my assistance."

Jordan looked up at him from where she had partially crumpled. Unable to speak in the moment as her muscles twitched and her breath struggled to return, she could merely nod a thank you.

"And if I may be so bold, your grace," he said placing his hands behind his back before completely closing his eyes as he spoke. "I look very forward to helping you again in the future."

Jordan screwed up her nose at his last remark wondering just how often she would need to submit to his administrations, "Thanks?"

When she could once more stand she looked about at the orchard. Immediately across the way she recognized a familiar pool and dashed away from Yerbert with the briefest farewells.

She glanced down into the oil-like pools and saw her stars. They were exactly as she'd left them, near as she could tell.

She accessed the Glamour leaf and saw the stars set aside for individual mortals. She entered Kale's name and nothing came up. Flustered she tried spelling his first and last names differently within the liquid of the pond and found nothing seemed to work.

She entered Gale's name and watched as the stars appeared. The shining point marked 'Heterosexual' glowed fiercely, almost in defiance of Jordan's hopes.

She whimpered in worry and felt overwhelmed by her frustration, where were Kale's stars?

"Excuse me," said a man's voice from beside her.

Jordan jumped in fright and clasped her hands to her chest before swiftly turning to see who had addressed her. She saw a pleasant face, small horns and a shaggy lower half, she realized it was the goat-man she'd seen on her last visit.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said in a sweet, Londoner accent. His long-nailed hands were up and open to show he meant her no harm. Her eyes strayed to a blue, circular tattoo on his left palm. "It's just, that you seemed like you might have been in over her head."

She looked at his soft eyes, unsure how to answer so he once again seized the initiative.

"I'm Dylan," he said politely.

"Jordan," she said shaking his offered hand warily.

"I can try... to help you," he said softly. "If you'd like."

She looked him up and down, noting his goat half disquietly, "I'm not going to have to fellate you for the information, am I?"

He blushed, and scratched the back of his head, "No, no. Nothing like that. Although I think that's sort of your thing."

"Excuse me?" she asked indignantly. "Sexual favours have never been, 'my thing.'"

"Oh, no," he said in his gentle British lilt. "I meant the Fey. Not you in particular. Sex without guilt, and all that."

She looked at him as though he were very peculiar, "But you do want something from me."

"Just to talk," he said, looking down as he kicked a stone with one cloven foot. "Just some of your time."

Jordan wondered what the goatman's game was, "Just talk?"

He nodded and glanced around, "About the world and you. I've been away for a long time."

"What did you want to know?" she asked.

"Um... how is Manchester United faring?" he mused aloud.

"Soccer?" she asked finding it an odd thing for a goatman to be worried about.

"Football," he said as if correcting her. "I haven't seen a game or heard a score in quiet a while.

"I can bring you a newspaper, with sports stuff in it," she offered.

"That would be amazing," he said with a quick bow and sweet smile. "So, what did you need help with?"

They turned back to the stars and she tried once more to pull up Kale's. It still didn't work and Dylan furrowed his brow.

"Is he dead?" asked the horned man with concern.

"No!" Jordan insisted. "He's at the hospital."

"Then he must have been cursed," said Dylan sliding down to sit with his back to the pool. "If he lives his stars should appear. The only other option is he was cursed, by a powerful creature, likely one of the folk. Someone who wanted to set his fate and lock it permanently into place."

"Who would do that?" Jordan cried. "He was such a nice guy. He was just a swimmer, he hadn't done anything."

"Was he close to you?" asked Dylan and she nodded.

"We... he took... he was my first," she said quietly.

"I see," said Dylan the goatman with a furrowed brow. "That is a special enough thing before we factor in the fact that you are Fey royalty."

"Why would that matter?" she sniffed and dried her tears.

"Fey are huge on symbolism," he said. "The first time you have sex, for instance. For a species built to represent sex itself... well, you could imagine how special and powerful such an event could be. Some people may want to own that moment with you; bragging rights and piece of who you are. Like I said you're royalty, such things can have an impact on the lives of all involved."

"He was my first person," she said sadly. "Helena was my first anything. But there was no penetration, not with anything more than fingers. So that means Kale is technically my first. Right?"

Dylan's eyes went wide and he shook his head unable to meet her gaze, "I don't know, my lady."

"Will it really matter?" she asked him.

"It could," Dylan replied apologetically. "But without being able to see Kale's stars we can't be certain if he or your mother holds that part of you."

She sat down beside him and stared at her palms glumly.

"Did your mother not explain any of this to you?" he asked.

"I beginning to think I could fill a series of short stories with everything Helena didn't tell me," she said with a sigh. "I'm glad you're here, Dylan. Because it seems like I'll be getting my fibre content checked every time I need a favour from Yerbert. It's very nice to not feel that sort of pressure."

He shrugged and gave a small smile, "My pleasure."

"What did you mean?" she asked him after a moment's silence between them. "When you said you 'thought' sex was a Fey thing. Wouldn't it be 'your' sort of thing too?"

"No," he said sombrely.

She glanced at his furry lower half again and shook her head, "You're not a person... a human being, I mean, because you're here in the Night-Orchard and you look like, that. I'm afraid I don't understand your circumstances."

"I'm an outcast," he said .

"Of the Fey?"

"No," he repeated as if disappointed with the turn of the conversation.

"You wanted to talk," she pointed out as he hesitated answering. "Spill."

"Spill?" he asked.

"Tell me everything," she said with a frustrated laugh.

"I'm not a Fey," he reiterated. "I'm their prisoner."

"A prisoner? Here?" she asked with surprise as she indicated the Night-Orchard around them .

He nodded sullenly.

"I was told we could only stay here for eight hours," she said bemused. "But you can't leave at all."

"They hold me here to keep an eye on me," he explained.

"Why?" she implored.

"Because," he finally revealed, "I'm a dwarf."

Jordan was amazed by his answer, she had been expecting someone much smaller in stature.

"Or I was," he said gloomily. "Until I turned my back on my kind. Your mother locked me into the form of a satyr when I surrendered to her, a twisted joke on her part. Satyrs are generally the most promiscuous of Fey, so that says something right there. They're the polar opposite of most dwarves who see sex as a tool to sell products and sometimes used control to mortals, but little else. It's intended as a huge insult to me. So, now I look like this, probably forever."

"Why did you surrender?" Jordan asked, genuinely interested in his tale.

Dylan shrugged, "I didn't agree with everything my people stood for."

"Like what?" she pressed.

He seemed ashamed, but offered to slake her curiosity, "My people believe in control over all else. In the human world you can see their hand in every uncaring business or uncompromising regime."

"So you're like an 'Occupy Wall Street' sort of guy," she asked with a giggly laugh.

"I'm not sure what any of that is," he confessed. "But suffice to say I was at Ghandi's side, right up until the moment they killed him."

"Oh," she said, unsure how to respond to that and thinking it might be best to change the topic. "Well, I suppose the only thing left to do is change some other people's stars."

"Really?" Dylan asked, sounding a bit worried.

"Yeah," she said. "Mine first, but I made a couple people promises."

She stood and pulled up her the star for her libido, "My sex-drive is ridiculously high."

She leaned toward the pool to change it and Dylan shook his head.

"I don't know if you want to do that."

"Why?" she asked. Without her mother present she felt like it was the perfect time to straighten out her horniness issue.

"You're a Fey," he said as if that should explain everything. "You're just naturally going to find yourself in situations where you'll have to be sexual, to get what you want, if for no other reason. Being less sexual might help if you want to blend in with mortals, but you're not one of them. To turn it down or off will make it harder for you to fit in with your own people."

"It's insane," she said as if he couldn't understand. "I need sex like eight times a day. I have classes and things I need to do that would really benefit from not having to satisfy these stupid cravings all the time."

"Does any of that really matter now?" Dylan put to her. "Classes in what? Do you think you'll be able to hold down a career? The others like you will come looking for you. So will my people and even worse things you haven't dreamt of yet. You need to be ready for the world you live in now, your highness; not the one you may desire."

"Speaking from experience?" she asked the satyr.

He grimaced, "Very much so."

Jordan sighed and switched to the mortal stars.

She found Brody and Josh's stars and smiled. They were cruel and uncaring. Selfish the way a date-rapist would have to be. She searched for any redeeming quality in them and found far too little.

She set her jaw, her decisions were to either make them nicer and forgive them or punish them for who they were. A rush ran through her and she knew it had to be the latter.

She touched their stars for 'Submission', they were both black. She made them as bright as they went. Next she went to their stars for 'Anal Intercourse', there were two stars with prefixes - one was for giving and the other for receiving. She made them consummate receivers. Then she looked at their stars for heterosexuality. They were dazzlingly bright.

Dylan placed a hand on hers, "You're better than that."

She looked at him, he was right. She would feel guilty forever over modifying someone so thoroughly, no matter how bad they were.

She swiped to her own stars and selected the spiritual one for 'Conscience'. It was high, she lowered it to just a dim glow.

"You should be careful," Dylan said with genuine concern. "That's the one star in all of them that will make it harder for you to change back. Set it too low, you might not care what you do or what happens to anyone."

"You just told me I don't get to live in the world I want to, Dylan," she said solemnly. "Do you think I want to hate myself constantly for the decisions I'll need to make?"

"It's just, if you don't care, it may be impossible for you to ever want to set your conscience higher again," he replied.

"I don't see any other choice," she said.

The satyr sighed and started to walk away, "You seem like a good person, Jordan. I'd just hate to see that side of you go away."

She took his hand and he spun back to her, "If it goes wrong, I swear I'll change it back. Especially if you say I should."

"I don't think you will," he said sadly.

"I promise," she crossed her heart.

Going back to the pool she dimmed Brody and Josh's heterosexuality until it was almost gone and then opened up Gale's.

She turned her bright star for heterosexuality down about halfway and smiled. Now, she'd be a seafood lover.

She flipped back to her own stars and set her physical strength and courage as high as they went. She'd need to prepare for any sort of danger that may come.

Satisfied, Jordan walked past Dylan and patted his naked shoulder, "See you around."

He sniffed in derision and waved a weak goodbye as Jordan vanished once more from the Night-Orchard.

*

That night, a party raged once again and Jordan moved through the throngs of people that crammed in all over her dorm floor.

Brody and Josh were pawing at every single guy around them.

"Hi, boys," she said smugly. They were wriggling little things beneath her gaze. "Best of luck getting what you need from a dude while he's roofied."

They both looked at each other in disappointed surprise, as if it hadn't occurred to them that they'd need a willing partner to give them what they now sought.

Jordan had left them with the same natural urges to be assholes, but posed a much more difficult scenario with which to fulfill their cravings.

"How did you..." began Josh in amazement over her statement.

She laughed callously at their dilemma and stalked off through the party, making her way to Gale's.

She pushed the door open and stared in at her gorgeous neighbour.

Gale stood up, her skin flush and a lustful look in her eyes as she took in Jordan's body.

"Let's get this party started," said the Fey princess as she ran her hands over her own luscious physique.