said.
“Let’s find somewhere a little more private,” the brown gnome said.
“I guess I have a few minutes,” she said.
The gnomes led her toward the dark at the edge of the well, pulling on her knees and almost tripping her. As they reached where the stairs met the rock, a door opened to a tunnel that she’d never seen before.
“A second tunnel,” she said.
“Our secret tunnel,” the orange gnome said.
“Where it’ll just be the three of us,” the brown gnome said.
They went into the tunnel, stepping into the dark. The stone door closed behind them, and all of the light disappeared.
“I can’t see,” she said.
They kept leading her, so she felt she had no choice but to trust them, and they walked for another few minutes before they stopped tugging at her knees.
“This is our quiet and humble home,” the orange gnome said.
“Take off your clothes and lie down,” the brown gnome said.
“This doesn’t sound like love to me,” Marguerite said.
“It’s passion unbridled,” the orange gnome said. “It burns like an eternal flame for you, my angel.”
“Do you want this or not?” the brown gnome asked.
She knew she did.
She took off her shirt and her pants, and laid down with only her underwear on. The ground beneath her was much warmer and softer than she expected, like a bed of grass and flower petals. It smelled even better than the gardens above.
“How does this work?” she asked. “You guys are like less than two feet tall.”
“Love finds a way,” the orange gnome said.
“It’s not about size,” the brown gnome said. “It’s all in how you use it.”
Marguerite didn’t ask any more questions, and soon she felt the hands on her body, removing her underwear and touching her skin. It felt different, like one of those massage machines at the shopping mall, or what she’d expect it felt like if you wandered naked through a waterless car wash. It wasn’t what she’d imagined, but it did feel good.
Both gnomes touched her and both gnomes kissed her. She couldn’t be sure who was who, though she managed a strong guess from the feel of each beard. They tickled her in a way she’d never expected, and she was surprised at just how arousing it was.
There were more than a few minutes of touching and kissing, and biting and the faintest pulling of her hair. And then she was pretty sure both gnomes had their way with her, the first soft and gentle, the second rough and hard. Each one was special in its own way, but she knew which lover she preferred.
She felt two tiny kisses against her lips, one after the other.
And then the gnomes were gone.
Marguerite felt around blindly for her underwear; failing that she eventually found the rest of her clothes. She got dressed and started pushing along the wall towards where she thought she’d come in, finding her way through the blackness with many bumps and scrapes against the cold and hard cavern.
Finally she came to what she thought was the hidden rock door, but she couldn’t find a way to open it. She shoved her whole body against it, weathering the scratching of the stone against her skin.
She called out for help but she didn’t think anyone could hear her.
She stood there for a few minutes, too overwhelmed to weep, and then she made her way back to the grass and flower bed, to see if the tunnel carried on beyond it. She felt all along the rock, looking for a passage, but the only way in was where she’d come from; she was trapped underground, abandoned by her small and bearded lovers.
It didn’t feel real anymore. She didn’t see how they could have left her behind.
Exhausted, she curled up on the grass and flower bed and went to sleep.
Marguerite woke up to the rays of the sun, and for a moment it felt like she’d never left the glade of blue and white flowers and little brown-capped mushrooms. But she remembered what had happened, and she noticed right then that her bra and panties were still missing.
She
“Let’s find somewhere a little more private,” the brown gnome said.
“I guess I have a few minutes,” she said.
The gnomes led her toward the dark at the edge of the well, pulling on her knees and almost tripping her. As they reached where the stairs met the rock, a door opened to a tunnel that she’d never seen before.
“A second tunnel,” she said.
“Our secret tunnel,” the orange gnome said.
“Where it’ll just be the three of us,” the brown gnome said.
They went into the tunnel, stepping into the dark. The stone door closed behind them, and all of the light disappeared.
“I can’t see,” she said.
They kept leading her, so she felt she had no choice but to trust them, and they walked for another few minutes before they stopped tugging at her knees.
“This is our quiet and humble home,” the orange gnome said.
“Take off your clothes and lie down,” the brown gnome said.
“This doesn’t sound like love to me,” Marguerite said.
“It’s passion unbridled,” the orange gnome said. “It burns like an eternal flame for you, my angel.”
“Do you want this or not?” the brown gnome asked.
She knew she did.
She took off her shirt and her pants, and laid down with only her underwear on. The ground beneath her was much warmer and softer than she expected, like a bed of grass and flower petals. It smelled even better than the gardens above.
“How does this work?” she asked. “You guys are like less than two feet tall.”
“Love finds a way,” the orange gnome said.
“It’s not about size,” the brown gnome said. “It’s all in how you use it.”
Marguerite didn’t ask any more questions, and soon she felt the hands on her body, removing her underwear and touching her skin. It felt different, like one of those massage machines at the shopping mall, or what she’d expect it felt like if you wandered naked through a waterless car wash. It wasn’t what she’d imagined, but it did feel good.
Both gnomes touched her and both gnomes kissed her. She couldn’t be sure who was who, though she managed a strong guess from the feel of each beard. They tickled her in a way she’d never expected, and she was surprised at just how arousing it was.
There were more than a few minutes of touching and kissing, and biting and the faintest pulling of her hair. And then she was pretty sure both gnomes had their way with her, the first soft and gentle, the second rough and hard. Each one was special in its own way, but she knew which lover she preferred.
She felt two tiny kisses against her lips, one after the other.
And then the gnomes were gone.
Marguerite felt around blindly for her underwear; failing that she eventually found the rest of her clothes. She got dressed and started pushing along the wall towards where she thought she’d come in, finding her way through the blackness with many bumps and scrapes against the cold and hard cavern.
Finally she came to what she thought was the hidden rock door, but she couldn’t find a way to open it. She shoved her whole body against it, weathering the scratching of the stone against her skin.
She called out for help but she didn’t think anyone could hear her.
She stood there for a few minutes, too overwhelmed to weep, and then she made her way back to the grass and flower bed, to see if the tunnel carried on beyond it. She felt all along the rock, looking for a passage, but the only way in was where she’d come from; she was trapped underground, abandoned by her small and bearded lovers.
It didn’t feel real anymore. She didn’t see how they could have left her behind.
Exhausted, she curled up on the grass and flower bed and went to sleep.
Marguerite woke up to the rays of the sun, and for a moment it felt like she’d never left the glade of blue and white flowers and little brown-capped mushrooms. But she remembered what had happened, and she noticed right then that her bra and panties were still missing.
She
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