Gallimaufry

Writing Prompt: Faery Hang Over

Prompt: Waking up the day after a party and having no idea what happened,  thinking  "oh no I got captured by the fae again what did they do to me this time."

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By the gods, the sun hurt my eyes. They weren't even open and the brightness made my head ache fiercely. My mouth tasted like something had crawled inside, puked on my tongue them died and decayed in the mess.  But it also tasted like Faery.  I hadn't been around those bastards in... 

Nope, definitely couldn't remember a good portion of my night. My brain ached and stomach rolled dangerously as I tried to figure out the last memory I had.  

Speaking of roiling, heaving stomaches, the smell around me was more atrocious than the taste in my mouth, causing me to groan and sit up suddenly, only to ram it hard into a solid piece of wood. 

The curses I let out are the vilest I can think of as my eyes open up, allowing me to see that I'm laying pinned under a half fallen, slightly charred tree. I am just about to curse the tree and all its ancestors when I see that the massive hunk of now dead wood is also holding back my impending doom. 

There's a very dead ogre sprawled over top of said tree, also half charred, guts spilling out around and all over me. It looks like it has been dead a while. 

How long have I been out?

With a sigh I begin to squirm my way free of my protecting prison, gagging as my hands slip through entrails, coagulated liquids, half digested body parts and the contents of the Ogres bowels when it was killed. 

Please say my mouth wasn't open when this happened.   I couldn't deal with that thought. 

Urgency motivates me as I slip free and slip messily through the filth to half stumble, half crawl across the demolished part of the forest I find myself in. When my hands reach clean earth and moss, my stomach heaves and I lose whatever was in it. 

Thankfully, it looks like a lot of alcohol and... damnit! There's definitely several swirling magical concoctions in there. 

Blurry images come back to me as I lurch to my feet and turn to survey the damage. My last memory was sitting in a tavern, eating stew with the very distinct plan of trudging up to my tiny rented room for the night. 

I shift uncomfortably, reaching down to readjust my crotch, only to find my hand slip across the smooth, skin tight leather pants I am some how wearing. There is no wiggle room here, I don't know how I possibly got myself into these things, but I don't think they're coming off any time soon. 

Other than the pants and the filth that I'm covered in, I only have one other thing on my body. A black leather collar. 

"Gods damn it, Reeshin." My hand goes to the metal studs of the collar as I take in the levelled forest in front of me. Whatever happened, it looks like my fight cleared a swath of trees  about a mile wide, stretching for several miles over a hill line. 

Damn it. These pants are really restricting my package. I fidget again, but I can't even get my hand between the leather and my skin in order to give myself any relief. The ogre looks like it was impaled on my sword and the giant tree that prevented me from being crushed. 

I debate for a moment how valuable my family heirloom and weapon is to me, before cursing the underhanded, overtly kinky faery who no doubt had a hand in whatever happened. I hadn't seen him in ages. I had been avoiding him for just this reason, but he must have been waiting for me to land back on the continent. I had only been here a few weeks and he had tracked me down, to pull this shit. 

I knew how it would have gone down. Just like it always went down. I would have told him I was going to smash his face in for the last time we met. He would have flirted and bought me a drink. I would have drank said drink and then he would have asked me to play a game of poker. 

He would let me win, then convince me to join him at the local Faery-owned bar. I, being several drinks in by that point, would have given a little resistance before following him there, growling the whole time. 

With a shake of my head, I gingerly pick my way through the disgusting mess of rotting monster, bracing myself to avoid slipping back onto my ass. It takes a while, and several more instances of gagging before I reach where I can see my sword hilt glinting from where its nearly completely buried in the creature. 

He would have raised the stakes, and then started beating my gullible ass. Probably making me drink whatever potions he had given me as punishment. One, obviously, had given me the ability to burn shit. 

The other must have transformed my clothing into leather kink gear.  

Where I was, and wear the Ogre had come from, I had absolutely zero clue. 

I tugged the sword free with a hard yank , letting out a curse as I back-pedalled and slip-slided through the sludge as I fought to remain on my feet, gripping my sword hard enough to crack my knuckles. 

Finally, I was standing, holding my blade, and free of the gunk on the ground. I glanced up at the sun, squinting, before realizing that I had no idea which direction I needed to go anyways. 

So I started picking my way gingerly through the wreckage of my fight, hoping it had started some place with a bath and the rest of my clothing. And a serious lack of Faeries. 

I was going to smash Reeshin's face in the next time I saw him. 

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Author's Note: It has been soooooo long since I've done first person... it is probably horrible! Sorry! But good practice. I had absolutely zero idea where this was going. lol.