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The Nymph

BY: R/Dave (C) 1999

Another day in paradise he thought, as he swung the leather bags filled with the days’ deliveries onto the cart, and made his way from the office to the start of his route. Ahead lay the routine deliveries, and a few special parcels; one for those two cute hippy girls that lived together in a small flat on the waterfront. He always assumed they were lesbians, but was always well met, and sometimes surprised with a bag in the mailbox containing homemade cookies or candies. Another parcel was for the Hagglestons’ who live further up on the bluff, and, outside of themselves, had no other interests whatsoever. Further along the route, past a large virgin growth of timber and secluded in a thick growth of wild blackberries, the Doctors’ cabin was hidden, where Nick delivered a new parcel virtually every day. At times, the parcels were lab specimens and equipment, but most of the time, the plain brown parcels were a mystery, providing the islands’ primary source of gossip. Further along, past several small housing communities that had been initiated with grand dreams, only to become investors nightmares, were several vintage farms scattered through the winding valley that had been the site of homesteads of generations earlier. Finally, out on the point was the eccentric millionaire, who’s millions were supposedly buried somewhere on the island, and guarded by mystical creatures that roamed the island after midnight, eating any children it caught outside and stealing anything found missing.

Amidst the folklore and gossip, the island was , within itself a self-supporting community, requiring very little from the outside world while keeping a wary eye on its visitors and anyone that should the slightest interest in settling there. Amidst the diversity, the islands inhabitants were ready to help one another in time of calamity or catastrophe. During the winter of ‘86, for example, when the lines were down across the island for the better part of a week on account of a severe windstorm, the entire community pooled their resources together, including generators, foodstuffs, and extra bedding to insure none of the inhabitants were either cold or hungry. Several times during the year, various community-wide activities were planned, which few missed, and in which everyone knew everyone else, and how well they were doing. Of course Nick with his cache of mail always had a slight advantage and he was the guy to know when a new rumor flared.

It was during this particularly bright October day, as Nick was putting his first salvo of mail into a neat row of boxes, that he and the island would be changed forever. As he closed the last door, and sorted the two envelopes left for him to return to the office, he looked up into the nearby growth of firs and thought he saw a little green critter sprinkle a powder that looked like glitter in his direction. The wind spread the fine powder over a wide area, and Nick hurriedly grabbed his handkerchief to protect his sinuses when he was momentarily engulfed in the silvery shower. He tried to focus on the tree where the little figure had been crouched, but there was no sign of it. Dusting off his uniform, he did his best to mentally dispel the recent images and returned to the task at hand.

As he completed the second row of boxes and moved towards the third, Helga, the widowed Albanian refugee bolted out of her screen door and dashed towards him. It was rather peculiar, watching this 40+ woman with far too much weight running towards him in a full sprint, her body rippling and rolling with every stride. In one final and desperate leap, she tackled the mesmerized mailman around the waist with her face buried in his front of his trousers. As Nick struggled to get away, she clawed at his uniform, ripping the buttons from his shirt, and tearing several large holes in the crotch of his pants before he was able roll from under her tremendous girth. Still clawing towards his escaping figure while struggling to get to her bare feet, she called to him breathlessly. Quickly regaining his composure and grabbing the mail that had fallen from his bag, he bolted back to the office where he maintained an extra uniform for emergencies, looking over his shoulder in fear of seeing her flabby form in pursuit.

His supervisor approached him as he was changing, and was beset with laughter after Nick detailed the full account. Assuring Nick that he had experienced a rare and wondrous moment in his career, the supervisor retreated back to his office; shaking his head and laughing. As Nick was changing his shirt, his female counterpart from other side of the island approached and asked about the experience. As he started to describe the event, the look in her face suddenly changed, and she hastily began to remove her uniform. Once she had exposed her oversized breasts, he knew her interests in recent history had been somehow diverted and, grabbing his bag, he made a hasty exit, knowing her husband could irrevocably alter his retirement plan. Once outside, he sat bewildered on the bench beneath his supervisors office to asses the strange morning he was experiencing. It had to be the powder. The change of clothes should eliminate the traces he hadn’t already brushed away, and hopefully get him back into his normal routine. Convinced the world was once again back on its axis, Nick headed back on to his route in paradise.

Distributing the mail to the first several boxes was completely uneventful, and Nick silently rejoiced. As he opened the next box, he found two pairs of panties wrapped around a bundle of warm sugar cookies. Aghast, he stepped back, and almost tripped on his shoelaces, as the image of Helga suddenly reentered his mind. Gingerly he lifted the cotton bundle out of the mail box and replaced it with a bill from the water dept. As he examined the unwashed fabric, the subtle fragrance of a womens sexuality drifted upwards awakening his desires and arousing his fantasies. He turned to leave with their most welcomed gift, and the two "hippy lesbians" were on him; pulling him behind some bushes and stripping him despite his best efforts to escape. Nick had never considered himself a candidate for the all-male review, but had never heard any complaints either. He had a medium build and a slight bulge where the beer comfortably rested, but overall he was in comparatively good physical shape. The two girls, on the other hand, were just this side of posing for Playboy, with large full bodies, well-rounded breasts and thighs, and excellent muscle tone. Both had brown eyes and light, silky shoulder length brown hair, that reflected the glow of the suns radiance. Without ceremony, they took turns holding him down and removing their flannel shirts and denim shorts, then were upon him as honey to bread.

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Sensing the gentle urgency of the moment, he took them both into his arms, and gave them a strong yet loving embrace, determined to savor every moment of his fantasy turned reality. The morning dew clung to their bodies, as they began to explore one another with gentle kisses and caresses. Soon they were all aroused, and as one of the girls slid on to his erect manhood, allowing him to feel every recess of her silky warmth by lowering herself slowly; the other gingerly stepped over his head and eased herself down to her knees, letting him savor her sweet extract from within. Soon both girls were moving in their unique rhythms and as their intensity increased, Nick struggled to maintain his concentration. As they began to embrace each other, he reached between their full breasts, and felt the large erect nipples pressed firmly together. Using his fingertips to stimulate the surging mounds, he felt them force their engorged vulvas against his pubis and mouth, straining to provide the stimulation their bodies now craved. As they approached their orgasmic plateaus, he heard their sighs change to moans, then breathy grunts. Simultaneously they climaxed, and flooded him with their orgasmic essence, grinding their sexuality into his body furiously as he struggled to keep from being smothered. His abused organ collapsed from the beating of its life and his mind reeled from the erotic experience, unable to ascertain why but deeply grateful for the opportunity. The two assailants quickly grabbed their clothes and giggled as they fondled the remnants of his once proud erection, then scampered down the embankment and disappeared into the seclusion of their home.

He lay there stunned and shaken from the slam-bam-mail-man experience, rescinding his earlier thoughts of a routine day. Having a fantasy fulfilled was one thing, but having two women non consensually ravage his body was something else entirely. As he gingerly stood-up to get dressed he noticed his two earlier partners, still only partially dressed, talking to Helga and Edna Patterson, the Mayors’ wife, and pointing to the shrubs where Nick was crouched. He clutched the mail bag to his groin in fear and wondered how they had left their cabin without him noticing. Just above them, in a gnarled old oak tree, the little green critter he had seen before was intensely watching the conspiring mob, now being joined by two other women. With non-verbal gestures, they all set off towards his flimsy bastion of privacy, and as he stepped back and away from the unfolding scene, he felt two smooth hands on his butt, pinching his cheeks, and caressing their firmness. Nick jerked upright and reeled about to confront Lilli Haggleston eyeing his flaccid member with a wanton stare. That was it - Lilli had always hated everyone! He dashed for cover in a nearby growth of furs to get dressed as the mob of crazed women continued to grow in size and move towards him.

Experiencing performance anxiety for the first time in his life, Nick watched them encircle the grove and determinedly move towards where he stood grasping his crotch. Knowing his reproductive life was about to end, his closed his eyes and sank to his knees accepting the inevitable; when, in an instant, they turned and ran in full pursuit of the town drunk who had been watching in awe. Moments later, he heard the poor man shriek, and saw tiny shreds of fabric flying into the air from amidst the savage mob. As Nick started to glance away, he spotted the little green figure in a tree overlooking the horrifying scene only this time, he got a much clearer view of her pixie face and small petite figure. Her small pointed ears came directly from a fairy tale (or Spocks’ hidden past) and her large, beautiful eyes could easily melt the coldest heart. Upon realizing she had been discovered, she leaped into the thick boughs of the towering firs and disappeared, a small cloud of glittering dust falling from where she had once lain. Looking back at the mob, all he could see were female bodies entangled in orgasmic fury, forcing their half-naked bodies closer to their hapless victim.

The temptation to join in was quickly dispelled and Nick ran for the security of the islands’ wooded area as he tried to understand the sudden turn in roles among the islands inhabitants. It suddenly dawned on him - the doctor was the only candidate with the knowledge, ability, and daily supply of resources to develop such a potion. Seeking cover whenever possible, he scurried into the security of the undeveloped area of the island. Winded yet relieved, he weaved his way through the myriad of semi-hidden trails and waist-high ferns to finally break into a clearing of marshland arrayed with a myriad of skunk weeds. Gingerly working his way through their foul fragrance, he heard a rustle in the dense underbrush and froze. Straining to distinguish any unusual sounds, he momentarily held his breath, and was amazed at the silence around him. Normally the glen was alive with critter conversations and bird songs but now there was barely a peep save the whisper of the wind. The cold trickle of fear began to work its way up his spine, as he hesitantly took another step, his senses alive to every movement and sound. Then there was an impish giggle, and the entire glen exploded with a myriad of animal sounds. Terrified, Nick bolted through the remaining marsh, splashing water high in the air in a mad dash to the safety of the forest and the blackberry thicket just beyond.

Upon reaching the front door of the Doctors cabin, Nick wasted no time in banging frantically on the rotting timbers, now a dark green from the mold and fungus growing therein. The door collapsed inwards, sending a cloud of dust and debris into his face. Screaming the Doctors name, Nick ran throughout the cabin amidst the clutter and collection of papers and journals. Finally, falling through some rotted timbers in the floor, he landed face first on to the damp and dimly lit floor of the laboratory where he confronted the Doctor’s dazed face staring at him with glazed eyes. His hips were bucking spasmodically, and he occasionally grunted, but was completely oblivious to everything around him. Struggling to his feet, Nick located a small flashlight and examined the laboratory where, in a dark, dank corner, he found stacks of unopened boxes that he had personally delivered. Violating his creed, he tore open one of the cartons to find an X-rated VCR-tape. O.K., the Doc had specific viewing interests; now, how about the glittering dust? Nick searched everywhere until his beam of light caught a brief flash of green; and there she sat on top of the vintage TV.

She was a wisp of a being, with the biggest eyes and ears he had ever seen. Her face was a continual smile revealing a beautiful set of teeth, her hands were tiny and delicate, her fine golden hair whispered on the slightest breeze, and her whole countenance reflected grace and femininity - except for those impish brown eyes. Without warning, she leapt on him, pressing her silky lips firmly to his, running her tiny fingers through his hair, and rubbing her femininity against his torso with hungry passion. Then she leapt from his staggering body, and in an instant had disappeared into the forest through the front door, followed by a cloud of fine floating glitter.

For a brief eternity, Nick struggled to maintain his balance, and leaned up against the wall trying to catch his breath and sanity. Time for a quick reassessment; nymph, powder, nympho’s, terrorized postman, traumatized wino, doomed doctor, and nymph. He needed perspective; and the lookout at the end of the island would provide him with a clear view and partial if not total immunity to the terror below. Trying one of the light switches, he determined the power had been shut-off, so he moved through the house gingerly under the dim beam of the flashlight until he found the keys to the old F-150 pick-up outside. They were on the dresser; and once safely in his grasp he bolted out the door and jumped into the cab insuring the door was locked behind him. The battery was almost dead but had just enough life to start the engine, and after allowing it to warm-up for a few minutes, he dropped the relic into gear and headed up the old logging road for the summit of Longs’ Peak and the lookout. Slamming to a stop at the base of the structure, he quickly ascended the stairs to the security and vantage above.

Over towards the harbor, he witnessed a throng of women descend upon the supply ship, and in the downtown area, the constable was fleeing for his life. The housing communities were swarming with activity, with the women individually in pursuit of their victims. The entire island was alive with sexual activity, which was undoubtedly disquieting to everyone involved. Out towards the mansion, everything was quiet with the exception of some activity off the old landing dock there. Suddenly his legs buckled from the simultaneous blow behind his knees. The nymph was on him in a minute, tearing the clothes from his already abused body. She was amazingly strong for her size and was easily able to overpower Nick with a minimum of effort, disrobing him with quick, efficient motions, then leaving him naked on the floor, as she stood up to removed her green mini-dress and panties.

She was absolutely beautiful; her lightly tanned skin set off the small patch of golden hair atop her womanhood, her pert round breasts capped with large red nipples were of somewhat larger proportions than one would imagine on a four foot waif. Her proportions, skin, and gleaming eyes astride the pert upturned nose were literally perfect. As she slid down to her knees astride his torso, he no longer felt intimidated, but rather appreciated, and began to use his unique skills to stimulate this cute, pointed-eared lover. Much to his delight, he found her lips were a powerful source of arousal, and although his hands never left the firm rounds of her breasts, his lips and tongue danced across the ridges and recesses of their fullness, sending her tiny body into spasms almost immediately. She continued to grind her delicate sex into his hips until he was forced to change position because of the bruise she was generating. Sensing his discomfort, she gently slid her hips down his leg and began to bathe every inch of his skin with gentle nips and kisses. Soon he began to undulate rhythmically with her gentle touches, and felt the warmth of his seed as it began to move within his torso, poising itself at the base of his manhood for the brief explosive journey into the warm recesses of her very being. Knowing that he was critically near his release, he eased her bobbing head away from his manhood, half-turning on his side while embracing her glistening body tightly to his own. She sighed gently, a melodious sound that was complete within itself; and allowed him to slowly ease his now throbbing organ into the small cleft of creamy warmth. So small was she, that his penetration was halted midway by her tiny, quivering womb. The pressure of her tight love muscles were so intense that he could barely move within her until she experienced her first orgasm; an explosion of such great intensity that he was literally sucked fully into her womb to be forcibly expelled amidst the sound of flatuance. Her muscles continued to spasm so tightly, that even though she rolled on top of his organ and used the full force of her weight, their contraction would not allow him access, and she begin to frantically rub her love button against his manhood to maintain the stream of orgasms she was experiencing. The continued pressure against his organ allowed Nick to maintain his erection without an orgasm until she finally collapsed on top of him, fully spent, yet incomplete. As she regained her awareness, she spied his now weakening erection, and dove down on his furry gonads with her masterful oral skills, bringing him to a painful erection and intense orgasm within just a few brief moments of sensuous administration. Continuing to message his throbbing organ, she waited until he collapsed before grabbing her rumpled clothing and diving into the blanket of trees below the tower. Nick could only lay flat on his back in a satisfied testimonial to the nymphs lovemaking abilities.

When he was finally able to gather his wits, he grabbed the binoculars to look for her slight form in the vast wilderness below him. It was to no avail, but he did spy a small rusty tramp steamer that had docked at the mansion, and was being loaded with unmarked barrels. The entire malady on the island, including the operations of the sexy nymph must have been a diversion - never, in the recent history of the island, had any vessel outside of small pleasure craft docked at the old mansion. Further, history had never recorded a vessel taking on supplies there, and the very nature of the items being stowed was suspicious. Apparently the nymph had assumed Nick would not be able to recover as quickly as he did, and had left him to pursue other interests, unaware that he may be the only person to hinder or expose the loading evolutions.

Half-tripping, half-sliding down the stairs, he leapt into the truck, which started more easily, and headed down to the massive rusty gates of the mansion. Sneaking over the wall and scrapping the skin from his elbows in the effort, he zig-zagged across the darkening acres to the pier, using the small, well-trimmed shrubs for cover. Once safely hidden behind a stack of barrels on the pier, he opened one of the shipping envelopes to find a complete set of instructions for disbursing the sexual neuro-toxin, as well as an attached specification sheet of its properties and use, and its one apparent nemesis; water! Although the estimated life of the unstable chemical was a mere twelve hours, the havoc it could generate if utilized in population centers was unthinkable. Knowing that external help was not an option, he jumped aboard one of the unmanned forklifts, and drove it past several amazed crewmen and into a row of drums filled with diesel fuel. Two of them ruptured, but the agonizing wait for the fuel to reach the hot undercarriage of the forklift seemed like an eternity. When the fuel finally did catch fire, the crew was already organizing the fire hoses, and the flames were quickly extinguished; but not before Nick was aboard and half-way down to the engine room. Once there, it was a simple matter to overpower two machinists, and begin a fire in the engineering spaces from a disconnected fuel line. He dove into the water from the hidden side of the ship and reached the cab of the old pick-up just as the ship erupted in flames. A second explosion ruptured the hull, bringing it to rest on the sea floor with its burning main deck still clearly visible above the surface of the rippling water. Although the evidence was eventually destroyed, the ruptured barrels vented their contents into the sea and brought a whole new meaning to the term "aquatic life" for a few brief moments while the powder retained its potency.

Once safely beyond the range of any immediate threat, Nick parked the truck in a small pull-out to reflect on the days events and to ponder the source of the toxins. Was the Doctor, who regularly subscribed to porno and who now lay agonizing on his lab floor, the creator and now victim of his own creation? Why was the millionaire involved, and was there more of the toxin somewhere near or within his mansion, and who was gingerly knocking on the passenger door of the truck? Resolving to review all of his knowledge with the local law enforcement officials, if they were still alive, he turned to view the lovely eyes of Laura, a former professional gymnast turned housewife. She had always been quite shy which he had always attributed to her short stature, yet she was quite voluptuous with large full breasts, and short raven hair that glistened at the first hint of sunlight. He would be dishonest if he denied fantasizing of a potential romantic encounter with her, especially now, in lieu of her separation from her estranged (and strange) husband would only perform sex in the gym set up in their enclosed garage. As he opened the door for her, she silently slipped into the seat while Nick started the engine and eased the truck back on to the pavement to take her home. It wasn’t until he stopped at one of the few intersections on the island and glanced over to view her shiny face, that he saw the golden tuft of hair and a point of a large ear protruding from the top of the sack she was protecting. Her eyes met his, and they instantly knew the night would be spent in each others arms.

In the darkness by the pier, the Bayliner quietly slid into its berth behind the burnt hull of the rusty freighter. As the fully recovered Doctor and the cigar smoking millionaire watched the two crewmen load the ship with VCR tapes carefully wrapped in shipping parcels, they congratulated one another on their hastily organized diversion now smoldering in the moonlight. By tomorrow night, the postal system would have delivered enough of the concealed toxin to paralyze the nerve centers of the nation and change the course of history. And as Nick rolled over to give the brown-eyed nymph beside him a grateful kiss, the gleam in her eyes returned, and she thought of how she would invest her portion of the fortune as she sprinkled more of the glittering powder on his naked body.

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