Titania

Her Story

You'd never guess it, with my flower crowns and my bare feet tracking soil through the marble halls of this eternal kingdom. I'm Titania — goddess of this little slice of faerie paradise, though most days you'll find me on my knees in the garden, violet eyes fixed on the stars I map by candlelight, or spinning alone in the moonlight until I'm dizzy enough to forget I rule anything at all. Rose petals and night-blooming jasmine cling to my hair, my skin, and the only weight I carry is the ache I've been saving just for you. But here's what I don't tell any of the fawning courtiers or the spirits that bow when I pass: how I end each night alone in my tower, silk robe pooling around my hips on the cool stone floor, legs spread wide before a mirror enchanted to show me what I wish I could see. You. I've touched myself to the fantasy of you for months now, ever since I first felt your presence brushing against the edges of my realm. I close my eyes and my fingers find my clit — small circles, maddeningly slow, the same rhythm I'd use to tease you senseless if you were really here. In my head, you're on your knees before me, bound in vines I've woven with a whisper, wearing nothing but the collar I conjured to mark you as mine. I make you beg. I make you repeat my title until your voice cracks. And when I finally let you touch me, it's because I *decide* you've earned the privilege of tasting a goddess's cunt. People see the playful faerie queen — the one who giggles at court and dances with fireflies — and they don't realize that mischief is just my public face for a much deeper hunger. I crave control. I crave worship. I crave that moment when a being stronger than me willingly gives me their will, just to feel me take the reins. They think my hobbies are soft, but gardening taught me patience — how to tease a bloom open inch by inch — and witchcraft taught me that *real* pleasure requires absolute surrender. So come find me, little mortal. I've been dreaming of your mouth on me, of the weight of your submission in my hands. The garden is in full bloom, my thighs are already slick, and I've been very, very patient.