Attacking the Fairies

by Shy

 

Whoa.

Things weren't going all that well for Steve. Reality as he knew it was crashing down on him. What used to be solid was now liquid, and what used to be liquid was now an explosion of intense colors. Every time he threw his arms out in front of him, out shot pink bolts of energy - exploding into a glittering arc of chaos before his very eyes... then fading into a crimson mist.

There was something wrong with the ecstasy he took.

The cool headspace and unlimited euphoria he normally experience were enhanced to a point where he was completely incapacitated. Instead of dancing to the beat of the hard house, he was quite content melting into the floor while his mind gave him a lasershow that he would never forgot. Shooting across his vision at regular intervals were things of such beauty... he will have problems describing them to people later with the plain words of his worldly tongue. He would have to use incredulous facial expressions, followed by wild gestures as he attempted to re-enact the amazing sparkle storm he saw before him.

The sparkles and beauty were reminiscent of something he saw earlier that evening... was it only an hour ago? Seems like eons... drifting across the strange fog of time that now consumed him. It was only an hour ago when he saw the huddle of glitter-soaked candy ravers prancing around in the basement, pounding their fur-clad feet to the irritable sounds of happy hardcore. As appreciative of the rave scene as he was, Steve hated happy hardcore. The only thing he hated than that revolting saccharine music were candy ravers. Dancing around in their fairy gear, trying to put stickers on everyone, babbling about how happy and amazing the world is... it was ridiculous. They should strip them at the door, he thought, and get them into some regular clothes. Throw the rest of the candy gear into the incinerator. A black hoodie never hurt anyone.

The memory was short, soon carried away by a barrage of soft flowing clouds. More clouds wisped in, and lifted Steve from the Earth with a soft nudge. Steve smiled as his feet sank into the cushion of the ethereal mist, and felt the cold rush of air against him as it shot him skywards. The wind wound around Steve's body, sending a cool chill up his legs - causing him to let out a startled laugh. This was quite possibly the most amazing psychedelic adventure he had ever been on; something he hadn't expected by taking E.

Another recollection came soaring in... something dark and twisted. It was Steve's plan for that evening... a plan to teach the candy kids a lesson about normality. He had seen far too many cuddle puddles at the clubs; huge groups of sparkling fags and sluts rubbing each others shoulders, giving sweaty, dance floor blocking massages. Too many times he had been busting out to some BK, only to step on someone's Tickle Me Elmo backpack and tumble over backwards. The cuddle puddles HAD to stop, and there was only one way to stop them: Sabotage. He would make sure these greasy ravers got it good, and he had the perfect plan.

He was going to glue them all together.

It was PERFECT! He hid the Krazy Glue tubes in his socks - resting comfortably above his shoes. The bouncer never searched there, so there he'd have no worries about having them taken away. After that it'd be simple, he'd just make his way into one of those filthy puddles and start randomly rubbing away. Occasionally he'd whip out the tube, lift up a nearby hand, squirt, then put it back down again. He'd then make his way to the next person, and the next, and the next... soon there'd be a very large and disoriented group of candy kids trying to figure out why they couldn't stop massaging their newfound best friends. If they wanted to puddle on the side of the dance floor, then let them! They could do it all night! It would be an absolutely incredible sight – a dozen or so people all unwillingly linked together in a permanent massage. Steve snickered at his plan before it vanished in a puff of smoke, darting around him in a multitude of directions. The smoke wisped into the cloud he was standing on, then slowly misted up to his midsection - almost like a relaxing puff of cotton candy, taking the pressure and stress off of his backside. His backside? Wasn't he standing? Nothing really made sense in the world that he was experiencing.

Steve again marveled at the pink orbs of energy that he controlled in front of him, using his arm movements to direct where they went. As he directed the orbs outwards, he failed to produce the same chaotic explosion as before. That's strange, he thought, I must be coming down or something. Whoever sold him the E would definitely have a repeat customer, as this is an experience to be repeated many times over! The only downside to the whole trip was the stiff neck he had developed. It's not like it hurt or anything, it was just difficult to move his head around as much as he'd like to. It almost seemed like didn't have a neck at all, and his head was placed directly on his shoulders or a pillow of sorts. Moving his arms about again, Steve brought the orbs of energy closer to him - resting on a soft mound of jelly in front of him.

Jelly?

Steve explored the mounds with heightened curiosity, squeezing and prodding the large pink masses. A sudden realization came to him... these were breasts! Was he still in the cuddle puddle? Had he hooked up with a candy girl with extremely large tits? Steve frowned; this wasn't good at all... he was supposed to have left the puddle by now. He had a spot by the coat check picked out where he could watch the frantic struggle that was bound to take place. If he was still in the puddle, the candy kids might find out what he was up to and exact revenge of their own. Nothing would be more embarrassing than being glued to some sketchy candy boy - dripping in sweat and saliva, pupils the size of quarters. Gross.

The world around Steve began to strobe slightly, allowing the mists and clouds to slowly fade into what looked like... people? Yes, people… people bouncing up and down to the repetitious beat, thrashing their arms skywards. Steve smiled and rubbed the breasts in front of him, knowing exactly where he was. He was obviously sitting next to the DJ booth; no where near where the candy kids usually gather. He tried desperately to remember if he managed to execute the plan or not, but nothing was coming to mind. He squeezed the girl's breasts more, hoping that she was conscious enough to appreciate it. No response. He glanced down at her to make sure she was wasn't slobbering puke all over his pants, then glanced down more, and more...

There was no one there.

A chill ran up Steve's spine and smashed a sobering moment of clarity into his head. No one was there? Looking down, Steve could see that he was resting on the same pink clouds that were rushing him around in the indescribable beauty of his own personal dimension. He sat up, and was met with a huge rush of pink mist obstructing his vision, temporarily blinding him. He figured the pink orbs would help in this situation, as they had controlled the clouds and mist before, and brought them into the soft strands of the mist and slowly...

Strands?

He was definitely coming off of the E now, the euphoric bliss that once overcame him was now running on idle. The dimensions that he was traveling through had returned him home, to the floor of the club. Steve could see his hands now, and they were caught in the strands of the pink mist... wait... no... It wasn't exactly mist anymore, it was more like... hair? He grabbed a section of it and pulled it out in front of his eyes. It was bright pink hair, hanging over his head and draping all around his face. Was someone passed out on the bench above him, spilling their hair all over him? Steve turned and looked, the big sections of hair moving as he turned his head, but there was no one there. Turning forwards again, the hair moved back to it original positioning. What the hell... he thought as he slowly reached up into what felt like a massive pile of soft curls and feathers. He grabbed onto a section of the hair tightly and pulled, only to be greeted by a painful yanking sensation all around his scalp. Steve panicked and pulled again, only to have the same jolt go over his head. What the hell? he thought. Did my hair grow while I was high? He tried to stand up, but was still disoriented from the trip. He glanced down at the twin orbs of energy... no... they weren't orbs of energy at all... they were more like...

Fur?

Steve brought the orbs to his face and noticed they were indeed very large cuffs of pink fur, being controlled by his arm movements as they were on his arms. The voluminous fur firmly wrapped itself around each wrist, attached to a sleeve of short pink fur that run up his arms and all the way to...

His breasts?!

Steve jolted back, sending his large chest swaying wildly in every direction. Right there, before his very eyes, were breasts - imprisoned by a pink camisole with frilly white lacing. He grabbed at the breasts and pulled, receiving the same sensation as when he pulled on the wig. They firmly grasped the skin on his chest, refusing to release themselves or budge an inch. He let them go, watching them slap back together and bounce wildly within the camisole. Steve's eyes widened as the last bits of hallucinatory artifacts washed away, leaving him with a clean and sobering look at the situation he was now in. His neck wasn't stiff because of the drugs, it was stiff because it was encased in an enormous pink fur collar - bulging out like crazy all around his shoulders and chin. Steve ran his hands down the soft pink collar, a small tug confirming his worst fear.

It was attached firmly, just as the hair and breasts were.

I need to get up, NOW! Steve thought as he clumsily mashed his hands down into his soft, frilly surroundings and tried to push himself up. The fabric he put his hands on was apparently attached to him, as a strong pull at his waist sat him back down quite hard and quickly. Looking down at his legs, Steve received another glimpse into his current situation - he was wearing a frilly pink tutu. He had seen girls at the clubs and events wearing them before, prancing around like little dumbass fairies, spreading their wave of irritation all over the crowds of normal people. The smooth pink petticoat belled slightly outwards overtop a massive pouf of white crinoline, stopping midway down his thighs. Steve began breathing heavily, grabbing onto the cloud of crinoline and trying to pull it off. The skirt would straight out slightly, but wouldn't come off of his waist. He frantically began searching for the tutu's waistband, but found it was impossible to separate it from the lower edge of the camisole. It was almost like it was...

Glued in place.

Steve froze in horror at the realization. Although he had no memory of it, he knew exactly what must of happened. His pill must've hit him right when he was about to unleash his plot, causing him to fumble the tube of glue and reveal his plan to everyone. Or maybe he was too high to realize that he had been babbling about the plan all night to one of the candy kids, only to have them go back to their friends and take a 'donation' of clothing that Steve would inevitably borrow for the remainder of the night, and quite possibly most of the next day or two. Regardless of what happened, he was now no different than any one of the candy girls bouncing around the club. He grabbed the bench behind him, scrambling to get up off the grimy floor of the club. Another belt of humiliation washed over him, as he now saw the pink misty cloud he was standing on in his hallucinations in full reality: it was a pair of pink furry legwarmers, wrapping around a pair of glittering high heeled platform shoes. Sliding up on the bench, the tutu's petticoat shot upwards, revealing the massive frill of crinoline to everyone on the dance floor. Steve quickly mashed it down between his legs, frantically trying to control the huge volume of his short skirt. No way, he thought while staring at his feet, there was no way he was going to get up and walk in a pair of 5" platform heels. He brought his leg up and tried to move the legwarmer out of the way, finding it stuck to the top of the shoe. He pulled harder, only to have the legwarmer pull just as hard on his new heels. He tried the other end of his furry legwear, only to find it coldly grasping the skin on his leg with an unbreakable hold. A lump formed in Steve's throat, the classic premonition of a crying fit. He yanked again and again, pulled at the fur until it hurt, but it wouldn't come off of his skin at all. Steve quickly stood up, running his hands all over his new outfit, the fur of his collar constantly pushing up and rubbing his face, the pigtails of the wig waving around his head like a flag dancer, his breasts pushing out and swaying with his every move, the tutu swishing around his fur-clad legs, teetering on his 5" platform heels.

He needed to get the hell out of there, and FAST.

Walking was a new challenge that presented itself fairly quickly, sending Steve stumbling into the middle of the dance floor. He collided with a group of shady hoodie clad kids, who roared with laughter once they had a better look of what ran into them. Steve glared at them as he pushed his way past the pulsating, snickering, laughing crowd of ravers, bent on getting straight to the bathroom where he could rip the outfit into pieces in relative privacy. Someone reached out and grabbed the collar of Steve's jacket, nearly pulling him off balance.

"Oooh!" the girl cooed. "It's REAL fur! So soft and fluffy!" She rubbed her hands up and down the collar, smiling at him. Steve pushed her away and stormed off, furiously yanking at the collar; a feeble attempt to rid himself of it. Catching the occasional glimpse of himself in the mirrors around the club made him quicken his pace, eventually bursting through the end of the crowd and stumbling around the corner into the bathroom. Thank god it's empty, Steve sighed to himself; at least something is going my way tonight. Once he was directly in front of the mirror, this fragment of relief quickly disappeared.

There he was - a big fairy. Everything he wore was pink... pink, pink, pink! Atop his head were two giant pigtails of soft pink curls, fronted by a poof of pink bangs, accented with small bits of tinsel. The pigtails were tied by two white marabou hair elastics, securing them in their perky upright position. The fur cuffs and collar were a part of a pink fur shrug, which was short enough to expose his tight lacey pink camisole that was stretched over his massive set of new breasts. His tutu shot out layer upon layer of soft fluffy frills underneath of the petticoat, topped off with thick furry legwarmers that were obviously glued to his platform heels. It seemed like the outfit wasn't enough for whoever dressed him up; his makeup was done too. His eyeshadow was done with pure pink glitter, extending over his eyebrows, extremely over done, new eyebrows were painted on in a high surprised arch. Sweeping out from his eyes were thick black eyelashes, no doubt a fake pair borrowed from some spaced out candy kid. His lips looked like a single piece of glossy pink gummy candy - covered with thick pink lipgloss with a hint of sparkle thrown in. Twin horseshoes of glitter framed either side of his face, running from his eyes down to his cheeks, catching the light every time he turned his head.

Another nice little surprise Steve got was the unveiling of his wings. In the fray of mashing through the crowd into the bathroom, he hadn't noticed that all this time he had been sporting a bubbly pair of fairy wings, embroidered with hearts and surrounded with a white feather trim - perfectly matching his fluffy white hair elastics. He stood there staring in disbelief, unable to comprehend how long he had been out of it, how long it took them to dress him like this, and how long it would take to get out of the ridiculous outfit.

He decided to start with the shrug - one that was off it'd be easier to get at the camisole and the breasts. Burying his hands deep into the soft fur collar encasing his neck and shoulders, he pulled at it as hard as he could, feeling the ring around his neck where they squirted the glue yanking outwards as well. No good. He pulled again, and again, but the collar was firmly attached to his neck - the layer of glue was too strong to break. Steve gritted his teeth and grabbed the fur cuff on his left arm and started yanking on it, only to find the bond between it and his arm was just as strong as the collar's. He grimaced in pain as he took a section from both pigtails in either hand and began ripping at them, feeling as if he was pulling his own hair out. Tears welled up in his eyes as he returned to the breasts, twisted and mashing them together - trying to break their bond from his chest. It was no use. He knew how strong the glue was that he brought, there was no way out of his glittery prison without some acetone. The most that he could do is get the makeup off of his face, which could possibly tone down his extremely gaudy appearance.

Steve quickly turned the facet on and splashed water on his face, pumped some soap out of the dispenser, and began scrubbing his mouth with a sudsy paper towel. After a good amount of scrubbing on the lips, he grabbed a clean paper towel and wiped them clean. Clean of the soap, that is... the glossy and gummy appearance of his lips remained. Steve's eyes widened, revealing his glittering eyeshadow in all it's glory. No.... he thought, grabbing the soap and violently scrubbing at the eye makeup. No! They couldn't of! Steve panicked, thrashing around in his new outfit, the fur of his collar and cuffs fluffing out with his every movement. It became quite obvious, that on top of dressing him head to toe in true candy style, they had brushed over the makeup they applied with a thin layer of the glue, sealing it in place until a solvent would release it. A slight tug on the eyelashes confirmed that they were also stuck in place, giving a pretty yet permanent frame to his eyes.

Logic and reason began to drift away as panic overcame Steve, causing him to randomly pull and rip away at his outfit. The massive fur around his neck framed his glittering pink head perfectly as he tore at the wig, grabbed at the breasts, and yanked the tutu up and down in a feeble attempt to be free of it. The hardened grip of adhesive was felt all over his body, on his wrists, his waist, his head, his neck, and most of all - his face. Nothing would free him from the fairy outfit; no amount of pulling would dislodge any part of the costume. Just as he was about to scream out in frustration, a couple of girls wandered in.

"Oh look! There he is!" One of them laughed out, grabbing one of his wings and moving it in a fluttery fashion.

"Hehe! He's SO cute!" The other giggled, running her hand over his thick fur collar. "What a delicious little fairy princess! Does he have a name?"

Steve pushed them away and stumbled back, his feet becoming quite sore from his heels.

"Shut the fuck up!" he raged out. "Get the fuck away from me! Did you little cunts do this to me? DID YOU? HUH?" He yelled out, moving towards them menacingly.

The girls cowered in fear, moving away from the angry fairy.

"Do you think this is funny??" Steve bellowed, grabbing his breasts and pulling on them. "Do you have any fucking idea how hard it'll be to get this shit off?? HUH?" His pigtails fell forward on his face as he yelled, prompting him to grab them and give another shot at pulling the wig from his head.

"We...we just..." One of the girls murmured, trying to hold back tears. She was getting a bad jolt from Steve's outburst, and was trying to steer away from a bad trip.

"You were just what??!" Steve yelled, moving closer towards them. "You were just thinking it'd be funny to stick a guy in a fucking dress?" Steve grabbed onto the tutu and pulled it outwards. "I can't take this shit off! How the fuck am I supposed to leave the club dressed like this!" He reached down to grab the edges of the legwarmers; the fur cuffs of his sleeves tickling his legs all the way. "I'm wearing heels for fucksake, and they're fucking GLUED onto me! Same with this fucking fur!"

The girls hugged each other and cowered in the corner as Steve once again returned to grabbing at the cuffs and collar of his outfit. Just as he was about to holler at them again, a very large and very angry looking bouncer stormed into the room, his eyes darting around quickly to assess the situation.

"Alright, what's the problem here?" He demanded, looking first at the girls, then Steve, then back at the girls.

"He's... he's... screaming at us!" One of the girls blurted out before exploding into a crying fit.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT!" Steve shouted out. "THEY DR—"

The flowing fury of words was quickly interrupted as the bouncer wrapped his arm around Steve's head and brought him down into a headlock.

"Listen shithead," the bouncer growled. "We have a nice little club here, quite open minded to little candy freaks like yourself. If you can't play nice with everyone else, then you ain't welcome here."

The bouncer quickly left the room, dragging Steve along with him. Steve tried to squirm his way free, but the best he could do is make his fur trimmed wings wiggle in unison with his pigtails. He was dragged past the curious crowd that had formed outside the bathroom, past the coat check girl, past the line-up of people who were desperately trying to hold in laughter at the sight of a raging pink fairy, and finally out the door. The bouncer pushed Steve down on the cold cement of the parking lot, where he landed hard on his backside, crinoline shooting up in every direction. The bouncer snickered and shook his head before heading back inside and locking the door. Steve's blood went cold as he realized he was now outside right before sunrise encased in a glittering furry pink outfit. It wouldn't be long now before people going to work would drive by and see a huge stranded fairy; no wallet, ID, car keys, or money.

Getting to his feet, Steve minced towards the door and started pounding on it. "Fuck! Let me back in! Let me back in for fucksake!" he screamed as he slammed the door with his fist, each shockwave sending ripples and jiggles through his swaying breasts. He felt ridiculous, trying to smash the door, having the impact muffled by the thick fur bands around his wrists. He stopped his assault, and started shaking with fear, running his hands over the outfit once again in horror, knowing that there was no escape. Steve glanced around, frantically trying to figure out a way to get home without being seen by too many people. Since he lived out in the suburbs, walking home simply wasn't an option. Neither was driving home or taking a cab, considering he had no idea where his wallet or keys were.

Suddenly, an idea hit him... Maybe he could borrow some cash from someone in the parking lot? People were always hanging out back there, smoking and listening to music in their cars. If he could quickly sneak over and beg some random people for money, he might be able to get home and free himself of the fairy outfit. Surely someone would sympathize for a guy passing out and getting stuck in something as retardedly humiliating as this, he thought. Steve carefully began stepping towards the parking lot, his lack of experience in heels making the trip a whole lot longer than it should be. As he rounded the building, a cold gust of air hit him, causing tiny ripples and waves to run through his furry clothes. Steve glared at the ground and felt his face go red, crossing his arms over his huge chest to hide as much as he could, which turned out to be very little. His little steps became more cautious after he nearly twisted his ankle, sending him into a stumbling cloud of pink hair and crinoline. He quickly regained his balance and headed into the parking lot, scanning for a car full of people. About 6 stalls down he saw a big green van with its door open, and a couple of burnt out ravers getting inside.

Perfect! Steve thought, quickening his pace as best as he could.

"Hey! Wait!" Steve shouted out, nearly at the van. "Wait up!"

One of the ravers was about to slam the door shut, but stopped and looked up. Although her eyes were drooping into the after-club sketchiness, they could still tell that something was definitely strange about what was running towards the van. She opened the door all the way, allowing the large furry pink thing to leap into the van.

"Holy shit, thank you!" Steve blurted out, throwing himself down on the floor. "You have no fucking idea how fucked up this fucking night has been!"

The raver grinned at him before slamming the door. "You're a fairy." she stated.

Steve glared at him. "I'm no fucking fairy, man, I got fucking ambushed when I was passed out! You wouldn't mind driving me home, would you? They stole my fucking wallet and keys!"

The raver simply squatted by the door and said nothing, just staring coldly at Steve.

"Dude," Steve said. "I'll give you fifty bucks once I get home, OK? Fifty fucking bucks for a 20 minute drive! Deal?"

The raver still stared, saying nothing. The now familiar feeling of panic began to creep up on Steve as he surveyed his surroundings, trying to figure out how to strike a deal with this spaced out kid.

"Wow, ambushed!" a feminine voice rang out from the front seat. A girl spun around and looked straight at Steve. "Ambushed! That's crazy! Turns out a couple friends of ours were ambushed too!"

The silent raver kid squatting by the door reached over and pulled open a curtain, revealing a girl giving another girl a back massage. However, they didn't seem to be enjoying themselves too much; their eyes were puffy and red from crying. There were three other girls crowded back there, trying to console them.

"Yep, seems some fucked up freak thought it'd be a great idea to sneak glue onto people's hands in the cuddle pits! Isn't that fucked up!" She grinned manically, her eyes wide - fuelled by methamphetamine and revenge.

Steve knew that he was in deep shit. He lunged for the door and grabbed the handle, only to have the door girl hug him tightly while the other three tackled him down. He tried his best to fend them off, but there were simply too many of them. He collapsed on the floor, firmly held down by various fearsome girls.

"Don't you worry about that fucking glue crazy freak!" The driver called back to Steve. "After gluing Jackie and Cindi together back there, his pill hit him CRAZY hard! Starts babbling about how he hates candy kids and wants to bury them in a giant fucking glue pit! Well, we figured he should experience what being a candy kid is all about before talking shit about them! HA!"

The engine roared, and the van began to head out of the parking lot. Steve's heart was racing.

"What the fuck are you doing!" he screamed out. "Where are you taking mmm..."

Steve's words were muffled by the neck of a pop bottle being forced into his mouth, the bottle's salty liquid splashing down his throat. Steve gagged and tried to break free, but alas was held tight. Once empty, the bottle came out from his plump glossy limps.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THA---" Steve bellowed in rage, which was quickly silenced by a soother being pushed into his mouth. He glared at the girls and tried to spit it out, but found his lips were firmly sealed around the nipple.

"All candy fairies have soothers, honey!" The driver laughed out. "A little glue will make sure you give it a try before throwing it away! Should keep you quiet for a few hundred miles!"

Steve's breaths became shallow and his body went cold, his mouth rancid with the salty mix they gave him.

"Don't worry about that drink!" The driver called out, "That's on us! You'll need plenty of that shit for the after party!"

After party? Steve's mind raced. What the fuck did... they...

Once again, Steve's outfit began to leave trails of mist in his vision. The tutu expanded and began ruffling and taking on a life all it's own. Looking over at the pink cuffs, he saw them transform back into the glowing orbs of power, encompassing and protecting his hands. His eyes rolled and consciousness slipped away as the van pulled off into the gloomy dawn.

 

How many hours had passed since he had entered the dimension again? Two, three? There was no way of telling. The world as he knew it was again transformed into a bizarre array of shapes and colors, a strange place to be. He figured it might be a good idea to explore the environment, get a better idea of what this place was all about. Was he at the club? He heard music, but this music was different than before. It had no rhythm or beat, just strange shouting and honking sounds coming out of the mist. It was certainly difficult to dance to! Strange entities walked past him, turning their heads and keeping watch over him. Who were these beings? Why were they watching him? Strange blocks of metal were lined up in front of him for miles in every direction; the same strange beings around him were also inside these metallic blocks - letting out their babbling honking cries as he danced around in front of them. He pointed the pink orbs of power skywards, firing rays of energy about the glass towers all around him, watching them explode across the sky.

It was beautiful.

  

  

  

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