Chapter 17: Divine Retribution
The faint, shimmering dust from Lila’s wings still clung to Johann’s windowsill as she zipped through the night sky, a tiny comet of restless intent. The contentment she’d felt watching the lovers had faded, replaced by a nagging, prickling sense of unfinished business. Father Nathaniel’s name was a bitter taste in her mind. His work was undoing her work. It was crude, violent, and it left behind a trail of broken, aching people.
Her flight path, guided by an instinct for misery she couldn’t ignore, took her to the university district. She slipped through a slightly open window into a small, single dorm room, the air smelling of cheap laundry detergent and despair.
The girl on the narrow bed was naked from the waist down. Anna. Lila knew her name, knew her story, as clearly as if it were written in the tense lines of her back. Three months ago, her devout mother had dragged her to St. Agnes’s after finding a vibrator under her pillow. Nathaniel’s solution had been swift, final, and sanctimonious.
Now, Anna was crying. Silent, furious tears streaked her face as she frantically rubbed the space between her legs. Her fingers, slick with lubricant, worked over the scar tissue where her clitoris had been. She pressed, circled, shoved two fingers inside her vagina, her hips jerking in a pathetic, broken rhythm. She was chasing a ghost. A groan of pure frustration leaked from her lips, a sound that was more agony than arousal.
Lila hovered, invisible, her tiny heart aching. She couldn’t regrow what was gone. Fairy magic didn’t work like that on removed flesh. But the frustration, the need radiating from Anna was a physical heat in the room. It was wrong. It was an offense to the very pleasure Lila lived to cultivate.
With a resolve she rarely felt, Lila willed herself to be seen. A soft, iridescent glow began to emanate from her form, painting the dorm room walls with swimming rainbows.
Anna froze, her wet fingers stilling. She blinked, thinking the tears and frustration were making her hallucinate. A tiny, beautiful woman with wings was floating at the foot of her bed.
“What the fuck…” Anna whispered, scrambling back against her headboard, pulling a sheet over her lap.
“Hi!” Lila chirped, her voice like tinkling bells. “Sorry to barge in. You look really frustrated.”
“What are you?” Anna breathed, more stunned than afraid.
“I’m Lila! I’m a fairy. And you’re Anna. And you’re trying to cum where there’s nothing left to cum with. It’s really sad.”
The blunt, childish statement hit Anna like a slap. The absurdity of the situation—a fairy commenting on her masturbation failures—broke something inside her. A sob burst out. “I can’t… he took it. That priest, he cut it off and now I can’t feel anything, nothing works, I’m just… empty.”
Lila landed softly on the rumpled sheet, her glow illuminating Anna’s tear-stained face. “I know. He’s a mean, nasty man. He does it to shemales too. Cuts their pretty things off. Makes them empty.”
Anna’s despair curdled into a sharp, clean anger. “Nathaniel.”
“Yes! Him!” Lila nodded vigorously. “I want to make him stop. But it’s tricky. Humans can’t see us usually. I need help.” She fluttered closer, her green eyes wide and earnest. “I can’t give you your clit back. But I can give you a new way to feel good. A really, really good way. I’ll make it so you can scream and shake and see stars again. If you help me stop him.”
Anna stared. A fairy was offering her a deal. Orgasm for vengeance. The raw, wounded part of her, the part that lay awake at night humiliated and seething, clenched tight. “How?” she asked, her voice hard. “How do I help?”
“You can see me. You can talk to him, get close to him. Find out how he picks people. Maybe… lure him somewhere. I can do the rest.” Lila grinned, a mischievous, dangerous little smile. “Do we have a deal?”
Anna didn’t hesitate. The memory of Nathaniel’s cold, grey eyes as he explained the “cleansing procedure” solidified her resolve. “Yes. God, yes. Do it. Please.”
“Okay!” Lila clapped her tiny hands. “This might feel a little weird.”
She flew down, landing between Anna’s legs. Anna flinched but didn’t pull away. Lila placed her hands on the scarred, slick flesh. A warm, buzzing sensation spread from her touch, not unpleasant but intensely strange. It felt like itching from the inside.
Lila concentrated. She couldn’t rebuild, but she could rearrange. She could close a door and open a window.
The lips of Anna’s vulva began to tingle, then to numb. The opening to her vagina, still glistening with lube, seemed to soften, to blur at the edges. It wasn’t violent; it was like watching a flower petal melt in reverse. The flesh smoothed over, seamlessly, leaving behind only unbroken, pale skin. Her pussy was simply… gone. A soft, featureless expanse remained between her legs.
Anna gasped, her hands flying down to touch. Where there had been an entrance, there was now only smoothness. “What did you…”
“Shhh,” Lila murmured, her work not done. She moved lower, her tiny hands pressing against Anna’s tight rosebud. This, she poured her magic into. She channeled every spark of pleasure, every nerve-ending fantasy she possessed, into that one tight ring of muscle.
A jolt, like electric current, shot up Anna’s spine. She cried out, her back arching. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. Her anus, which had always been a neutral, private area, suddenly felt alive. It throbbed with a sensitivity that echoed through her whole pelvis. It felt hungry. It felt like a new mouth.
“There,” Lila said, fluttering back up, looking pleased. “Try now.”
Trembling, Anna reached back. She pressed a single, lubricated finger against her own anus. The contact was so shockingly intense, so directly wired to her core, that she moaned long and loud. It wasn’t just a touch; it was a command.
“Oh my God…”
“See?” Lila giggled. “Now do it properly.”
Driven by a need three months in the making, Anna rolled onto her stomach. She grabbed the bottle of lube, pouring a generous amount over her fingers and slicking it over her newly awakened hole. She didn’t tease. She pushed a finger inside.
The fullness was eclipsed by the sheer, shocking pleasure of it. Every ridge, every pulse of her own body from the inside was a lightning strike of sensation. She fucked herself with her finger, then added a second, scissoring them. Her hips ground against the mattress, a low, continuous moan being pulled from her throat. It was building, faster and harder than anything she’d ever felt before.
“Fuck… fuck, it’s… I can feel it…”
“That’s it,” Lila encouraged, hovering nearby, watching with clinical fascination. “Use that. Take it.”
Anna shoved a third finger in, stretching herself, the burn merging perfectly with the pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps. The coil in her gut, dormant for so long, was winding tight, screaming for release. She imagined Nathaniel’s smug face. She imagined shattering his world.
The image did it.
Her body locked, her fingers buried deep. A raw, guttural scream tore from her lungs as the orgasm detonated. It wasn’t a ripple; it was a tsunami, originating from that deep, penetrated place and flooding every cell. Her legs kicked, her vision whited out, and waves of convulsive pleasure racked her for what felt like minutes. She collapsed, panting, sweat-slicked, her fingers slowly slipping out.
Tears flowed again, but they were tears of relief, of shocking, profound gratitude. She felt human again. Whole, in a completely new way.
Lila drifted down, landing on the small of Anna’s back. “Good, right?”
Anna could only manage a weak, breathless laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”
“So,” Lila said, her tone turning businesslike. “We have a deal. You get to feel that whenever you want now. And you help me break the bad priest.”
Anna rolled onto her side, looking at the tiny, powerful creature. The anger was still there, but it was fused now with a fierce, glowing purpose. She had a weapon. She had a target.
“We have a deal,” Anna said, her voice steady. “Where do we start?”