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    Tom of Faerie
    Tom of Faerie
    Tom of Faerie
    Ebook56 pages45 minutes

    Tom of Faerie

    By Paul Smith

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Ever wondered what it would be like to spend a day in Faerie? Thomas Singer hadn't, but was starting to wish he'd given the idea some thought...

    *

    Sex and violence, filthy gore.

    The following tales were written with an eye towards honest violence and upfront sexuality. I wanted to create something that was unrestrained, without treading into the realms of cliché. (You may judge for yourself how successfully I have achieved this.)

    A word to the uninitiated: these stories were written with a gay male audience in mind. Some may find the content a little...excessive, in places. If forced at knifepoint, I’d describe them as Cthuhlian porn with a dash of Tarantino-esque violence.

    Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

    *

    The group of stories under this parasol (or umbrella, depending) came about originally out of a desire to let my literary hair down. I wanted to write the sort of unrestrained fantasy sex and violence that’s difficult to include if you want to attract a wider audience.

    A word to the wise. These stories were written with a specific audience in mind. Namely, gay men and women who like Yaoi (Google it).

    Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPaul Smith
    Release dateMay 30, 2014
    ISBN9781310163401
    Tom of Faerie
    Author

    Paul Smith

    PAUL SMITH is a dedicated father of two and an expert trainer in leadership and storytelling techniques. As the author of the popular Lead with a Story, he has seen his work featured in The Wall Street Journal, Time, Forbes, The Washington Post, Success, and Investor's Business Daily, among others.

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      Book preview

      Tom of Faerie - Paul Smith

      Tom of Faerie.

      (Filthy Gore)

      By Paul Smith.

      *

      Tom of Faerie

      Paul Smith

      Copyright 2014 by Paul Smith

      Smashwords Edition

      ISBN: 9781310163401

      This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to people, places or events is purely coincidental, and bears no malicious intent.

      For more information on my work, and to keep up to date with new releases please follow me on Twitter @tattooloverboi or check out one of my galleries:

      Gallery: http://gladefaun.deviantart.com/

      Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/starofthemorning

      Blog: http://paulsmithauthor.wordpress.com/

      *

      For Sam, the flower girl from Brighton Station.

      *

      Contents.

      A Day at the Fayre...

      A Command Performance.

      Booty Call.

      The Daily Grind.

      Victoria’s Proposition.

      At Her Majesty's Pleasure.

      Sex and Violence.

      Untangle the Yarn.

      A Day at the Fayre…

      So… Tom… how do you like our court? she asked, her hand on his chest.

      He glanced at the creature by his side: her skin was smooth as finely planed wood. Her eyes, as he met them, seemed to shine green like a cat’s in the night, a thick fringe of lashes surrounding them like the bristled antennae of a moth.

      It was difficult to tell where her fiery wings ended and the train of her gown began.

      I like it well enough… he replied. The sentence died as he recognised her consort Oberon materialising out of the crowd before them, one arm draped casually about the shoulders of a nymph. The king somehow epitomised all it was to be a man, even as he wore the lithe figure of a youth. The combination was powerful, magnetic even, drawing the eye across his fine torso towards the improbable bulge concealed in his tattered leggings. Twin horns, mirrors of those worn by his Queen, sprouted from amidst a mane of dark curls, curving round to twisting points running parallel to the line of his cheekbones. Only the eyes gave it away, ancient as the standing stones of some mist-shrouded circle.

      Tom tore his gaze away, found himself eye to eye with the King’s companion. The nymph cocked his head, blond curls bouncing, the twin werelights of his antennae leaving a tracery of after-images across his vision.

      My Queen.

      Titannia inclined her head, and Tom turned to watch the pair leave, Oberon’s calloused hand playing absently across his companion’s pert buttocks. The nymph turned and winked at him just before they disappeared into the press, eyes sparkling above the stained glass panes of his wings.

      Shall we?

      Recalling himself, he nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way towards the refreshments.

      Tables had been laid out to one side of the clearing, their contents somehow immune to the flitting things that pervaded the air, and would almost certainly have fallen upon the feast in droves were this the mortal fold. As they approached, a path cleared before them without any obvious signal from the Queen. Courtiers turned to bow them through with a deference that seemed entirely out of place in such a carnival of horrors.

      Tom did his best to remain polite, eyes front, a carefully constructed smile set on his lips.

      The food looked like something from a child’s colouring book, with precisely the psychedelic approach to colour and form you would expect from such a source. He watch dubiously as a hobgoblin raised a bright blue fruit which had been halved, a delicate fork impaled in its silver flesh.

      Try one, Titannia suggested, eyes flashing, this is not Hades’ realm. And they really are quite good.

      He took the proffered half, picking out a small morsel and raising it cautiously to his lips, well aware that at least twelve pairs of eyes were watching him, with varying degrees of avidity.

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