Warning: This story features bondage and some sexual content.

Context: This is a short story written for Day 4 of Kinktober 2024 using the prompt words Cocoon and Entangled.

The sound of three pairs of butterfly-like wings fluttering around me increased my excitement. Very soon I would have a pair of my own. The four of us rose higher and higher in the air, with the majestic sight of the enormous Life Tree before us. The great height made me nervous but I trusted the grip of the three fairies carrying me up.

The trunk thinned and gave way to branches bearing brilliant pink and yellow flowers. We flew in closer towards a spherical bulge near the very top. There was normally an opening at the front of this spot, but several thick vines had grown in front of it. These were very fast growing, so it was no surprise. They were incredibly stiff and sturdy, but as the nearest fairy brushed a hand across each one, it retracted immediately.

With the opening cleared we flew inside. I was dropped on the soft ground of the Chrysalis Chamber, a sacred spot for our race that served an important purpose: the Rebirth ritual. The vines that constantly grew over the opening protected the fairies within during their ritual, opening only to a fairy’s touch. The nine other fairies due for today's ritual were already here.

“Well look who finally showed up. Late again Ninari. Typical that you’d sleep in even on your Rebirth Day.”

“I’m here aren’t I! Oh you’ve all claimed your flowers already.”

“There’s one at the back left for you.”

The chamber contained many large flowers, each taller than a fairy was. Most were wide open with the light-yellow innards showing. Only one at the back was still closed, the huge red petals folded up into a bulb shape reaching almost as high as the chamber ceiling.

I walked up to it and ran my hands across the petals. Like the vines they were a normally tough unyielding material that softened and responded to a fairy’s touch. I stepped back as the petals opened out and lowered to the ground.

We passed the next few hours in conversation. The ritual was what gave fairies their wings, the final stage of fairy adulthood. It was tradition for the first flight out of the Life Tree to explore the distant world in ways never possible to us before. We all excitedly shared where we each intended to fly to first, having heard only stories about so many exotic places.

Eventually the light began to fade and we all stepped onto the centre spot of our claimed flowers for the process to begin. The petals slowly furled back upwards around us, closing into their original bulb shape with us inside.

It was advised to let yourself fall asleep early but I was too excited. Over a few hours, a fuzzy white substance grew inside the closed flower. It was soft and silky, and continued accumulating to slowly fill up the space. It created a pleasant tingle as it touched and gradually covered my fair skin. I drifted to sleep.

Three days and nights had passed by the time I awoke. The now dense silky fluff filled the entirety of the flower, entirely surrounding me. This was the most comfortable wake-up I’d ever had.

I slowly remembered where I was. The ritual was done! I could feel something new poking out at my back where my new wings must be. I could not wait to try them out! I reached forward, pushing blindly through the whiteness, feeling the inside of the petal. It softened to my touch as normal.

Nothing moved. The flower should be opening and the filling all falling out. I stroked out against the petals again, but they weren’t folding outwards. This didn’t seem right.

I started moving both hands. It took a while, but some of the white silk at my head was clearing away. Eventually enough shifted for my eyes to be uncovered. I saw the light-red petals before me, with a narrow gap between two of them. Why weren’t they opening up properly?

Glancing up I saw why. One of the chamber’s fast-growing vines had overgrown from the ceiling and ensnared the upper arc of the petals. When the petal responded to my touch, it had tried to push out and became yet further entangled with the growing vine. I could make the petal move, but not the vine it was caught on. I would need to touch it for that, but I couldn’t reach it from inside the flower.

Pushing side to side to peer through the tiny gap, I saw that every other flower in the chamber was already open and empty. No fairies to be seen. I had overslept again!

“Your wings are soooo beautiful. The purples and blues look amazing.”

“So are yours! It’s no surprise you ended up with such fiery orange.”

There were still two fairies left!

“Hmmh!!”

I tried to call for help but the soft silk still covered my lips. I moved to poke my head above it and yell, but some of it dislodged and fell into my mouth.

“Are you ready to fly? Hold my hand, we’ll make the jump together~”

I heard wings slowly starting to flap.

“Whhhh!”

It was only a single stray vine blocking my petals. All I needed was for either of them to look back. To notice I was stuck. A simple, quick, light touch of the vine was all I needed, and then I’d be totally free. Free to finally fly.

“Nmmm! Hmmmm!”

The flapping faded away. The chamber was silent. They were gone.

I struggled hard. I thumped against the petals. I stretched upwards. I reached as far as I could but the petal gap was just too small and the vine just too high for me to possibly touch it. The petals couldn’t push past it, and they were too tough a material to be forced or broken open.

No-one was expecting me back at the tree-root settlement. First-flights usually lasted weeks before returning home with exciting tales to tell. It would be a several moons before the next batch of rebirths. No-one would step foot in the chamber until then.

I laid back, trapped in my rebirth flower. The soft silk was life-sustaining at least. I sat in it for hours, distracting myself occasionally with another fruitless escape attempt or clearing away the constant build-up from my eyes.

I also learned something new: what happens when a fairy stays inside the flower for too long. The pleasant tingling grew into something new. It became a prickling sensation not just on the surface of the skin, but nudging deeper into my body, tickling at my soul. It was an itch that couldn’t be scratched. My desire to literally stretch my wings became a gnawing need.

The substance began expanding and thickening. It was slowly shoving its way inside all my holes, engorging inside them. My final attempt to shout for help was rewarded with a glob of the sweet tasting stuff entering far into my mouth. I wriggled uselessly, so frustrated at being so stuck.

Eventually the tingling had grown to an incredible level of pleasure that seemed on the verge of exploding into full-blown ecstasy, but stayed constantly at the edge of reaching it. I was at sensory overload and suspended there.

Days of agonising near-bliss passed. My last cohesive thought before my mind succumbed to an unfocused dreamlike stupor was “I wonder what colour my wings will be?”

The chamber darkened as new vines grew over the final few gaps in the entrance, hiding from sight the one unopened red flower tucked away at the back.