Act II scene II

In the heart of the forest, under a canopy of luscious woodbine and dotted with nodding violets, lounged Titania in a royal bed made from moss and sweet musk roses. The grand queen stretched out, letting her fineries melt away as she bared her beauty for all her court to see.

Her court turned out to be a throng of bedazzled faeries that drifted through the queen’s clearing in a collective, blissful trance, bringing forth plates of berries and delicious fruits. They approached Titania and fed each morsel into her mouth as a team of sleepy-eyed sprites fawned and massaged their queen’s glorious body. Several of them combed her rich hair, weaving colorful flowers into her tresses while others stroked and massaged the queen’s arms and legs, rubbing her dainty feet and tending to her nails. Two lucky pixies were tasked with gently teasing and fondling Titania’s miraculous chest, their hands roaming to lightly scratch her nipples and push her heaving bosom in and out to help the queen relax.

Titania smiled and moaned dreamily, listening to her faerie musicians play lilting lullabies on reeded flutes and harps, their slow, sultry melodies keeping the entire grove under her spell. She yawned and stretched, lifting her full breasts with the motion. The faeries closest to her stared, completely enraptured.

“Come now, a roundel and a fairy song. Sing me now to sleep, then to your offices and let me rest.” The queen commanded. Her court couldn’t help but obey.

Shifting together as one, the faeries began their chant, matching the sleepy melody of the musicians, their voices lulling their queen to slumber. As the notes swirled around the clearing, each faerie found themselves dropping deeper into a heavy stupor, hypnotized by their own song. Finally, the queen’s eyes drooped closed and she surrendered to sleep, her radiant body exposed to the gentle night air.

Her second-in-command, Peaseblossom, a leggy sprite with a perpetual dreamy look in her eye, addressed the gathering of entranced faeries.

“Hence away, now all is well. One aloof stands sentinel.”

Some of the faeries rose and drifted away into the woods, to do their queen’s nightly bidding. The rest slumped down where they sat, lost in a deep sleep with their queen. Peaseblossom rolled her eyes at the enchanted court, the slumbering faeries that rested on top of each other in various states of undress, and took up her position for guard duty.

She had made loop around the perimeter of the grove when she caught sight of shadow darting through the underbrush. She picked up her staff and crept closer. It could be a harmless animal passing by, but she had to be sure. Peaseblossom tiptoed to a patch of ferns and peered into the undergrowth.

A shiny, silver disc, held by a masculine hand gleamed back at her. Peaseblossom was about to sound the alarm when she caught sight of the gorgeous face staring back at her in the mirror. Mirrors were strictly forbidden in the Faerie realm. The silver looking glasses the mortals fashioned reflected a faerie’s beauty too well and inevitably snared any fae foolish enough to gaze into them. Peaseblossom found herself enchanted by her own sparkling green eyes, her silky skin, and plush lips. She could admire such a face all night, letting her slender fingers entertain herself between her legs.

In fact, she had already started and wouldn’t stop until morning’s light, which was exactly what Oberon was counting on.

Slipping past the mesmerized faerie guard, he glided next to Titania’s sleeping body, taking care to keep his gaze off her naked form. If he stared too long, he would surely fall under the influence of his royal match.

Producing the flower, he held it over Titania’s eyes and began swaying it back and forth, tracing gentle circles over her head. The movement made the queen’s eyes flutter and slowly open to see the shimmering violet petals dancing in front of her. She followed the flower around and around, letting her mind drift in a sensual dream guided by the wonderful flower.

Oberon smiled as he led Titania’s gaze and then held the flower still, twirling it back and forth between his fingers and softly murmured to her.

"What thou seest when thou dost wake, do it for thy true love take. Love and languish for his sake. Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, pard, or boar with bristled hair. In they eye that shall appear when thou wak’st it is thy dear.”

He lowered himself next to her ear.

“Wake when some vile thing is near.”

He shook the flower, letting several drops of pure nectar drip into her eyes. Titania sighed, her eyelids drooping closed.

“mmmmyyeessss...vile thing....”, she mumbled as she sank back down into sleep.

Oberon surveyed his work, the queen under an enchantment and her whole train of faeries sleeping, enthralled to her. If he played his cards right, he might come out of this not just with the changeling child, but with the whole of Faerie under his control. But that would come later. For now, all he needed to do was sit back and watch all the fun that was in store for his charmed queen.

Just a little farther away in the woods, two humans, a man and a woman, were trudging through the dark night.

“Fair love,” said the man, Lysander. “You faint with wandering in the wood. We’ll rest us Hermia, if you think it good.”

“No,” Hermia said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m fine. The sooner we get out of these woods, the safer we’ll be from my father so we can get married. Just like you promised.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Lysander lifted his head to keep himself from staring at her cleavage.

“So, carry on then, good Lysander,” she goaded.

Lysander rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “And, to speak troth, I ...aheh...forgot our way.”

Hermia stamped her foot.

“I knew it! I knew you had no idea where you were going! I told you to take a map! But nooo! Not Lysander who knows the woods like the back of his hand,” she rested her hands on her hips.

“Or is that only in the daytime?”

“Yes, well...we’ll have to tarry for the comfort of the day. At least it’s a nice night.”

“Fine!” Hermia threw her brown curls over her shoulder. “Find you out a bed. For I upon this bank will rest my head.”

Hermia cleared out a small nest in the hollow of a moss covered tree and took off her jacket to use as a cover while she slept in her sheer night gown. She was almost asleep when she felt a hand snake into her cleavage, groping her tits.

“Lysander!” Hermia rolled over, pushing her soon-to-be husband away. “I told you I wanted to wait until after marriage!”

“Oh, I just thought you’d be cold all by yourself,” Lysander said defensively. “One turf shall serve as pillow for us both. One heart, one bed, two bosoms –“

“My eyes are up here, Lysander.”

“—one troth!” Lysander said, snapping his eyes back to Hermia’s face as she glared at him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks.” Hermia said, rolling her eyes. “For my sake my dear, lie further off yet. Do not lie so near.”

The young Athenian man backpedalled. “Whoa! Did you think I was trying to get fresh with you? No! I only meant that my heart unto yours is knit, so that but one heart we can make of it. Two bosoms—“

“Eyes are still up here.”

“—interchangéd with an oath. So then two bosoms—”

“The face, Lysander. My eyes are on my face.”

“—and a single troth!” Lysander said, flustered. “Then by your side no bed-room me deny. In lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.”

Hermia sighed, brushing her long red-brown hair off her shoulder. It was clear she wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep unless she tossed her poor boy a bone. She sauntered closer and rest her arms over Lysander’s broad shoulders, shooting fire into his eyes.

“Lysander riddles very prettily.” She brought her soft lips to his, kissing him gently before pushing her cleavage up with her arms and shoving his face in her chest. She shook her tits and motorboated his head for a few seconds before pushing him away. Lysander staggered back, stars in his eyes.

“But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy. Lie further off in human modesty. And good night sweet friend. Thy love ne’er alter till thy sweet life end.”

Lysander gave a tense smile and staggered back to his patch of moss near the adjacent oak tree. “Amen, amen to that fair prayer, say I!” He said, walking with his legs splayed slightly. “Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest.”

Hermia blew him a kiss. “With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed.”

The young lady cushioned her head with her hands and drifted off, while Lysander gently nursed his blue balls until he fell into a fitful sleep.

Not long after, the wind whipped through the trees blowing several stray flower petals through the forest canopy. Puck lay on their back in the center of one of the flowers, watching the starry night pass over them, wondering idly what they would tell Oberon if they had to return without finding the two mortals the king had mentioned.

“Hah, night and silence,” Puck murmured to himself. With a bump the flower petal hit the ground and Puck poked their head up. They jumped to their feet when and grew back to full size when they realized they were right next to two sleeping mortals.

“Well, who is here? This fellow has Athenian garments. This must be the young man that Oberon was talking about!” Puck turned and nearly tripped over another body sleeping on a mossy bank. “Ah! And here’s the maiden sleeping sound, on the dank and dirty ground. And damnation!!”

Puck’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground as they gazed on Hermia’s curvaceous form.

“How can any mortal man resist this angel of desire? You lack-love!” they spat at Lysander. “You kill-courtesy!”

Puck twiddled the flower in their fingers, letting their gaze get swept away in the mesmerizing spiral of colors spinning on the petals for just a minute.

“Well, I think trusty Robin can mend that.”

Shaking themself from head to toe, Puck let loose a head full of frizzy curls, pulled in their waist and let their chest inflate until two ripe, bouncing tits sat below their elegant, feminine neck. They were now an exact copy of Hermia and they took a moment to let their newly grown breasts slip through their fingers and tumble down their chest again and again…and again.

“Right! Enough of that!” Puck said in Hermia’s voice. “Time to perform the task at hand.”

Snuggling up to Lysander’s side, their voluptuous breasts brushing his shoulder, Puck reached down under the man’s Athenian robes until they found his sleeping, turgid cock, letting their slender fingers tickle and massage the man’s shaft until his pulse quickened and his cock began to inflate.

The Athenian man moaned, his eyes fluttering, trapped in an erotic dream concocted by his hardening dick. Before he could wake up completely, Puck used their other hand to push the man’s face into their cleavage, shushing him with full pouty lips.

“Shh….shhhhh…let yourself drift and dream…lost in pleasure under the moon’s silver beams…hush and relaaaaaxxxx…,” the hobgoblin hissed in Lysander’s ear. The man whimpered slightly but succumbed to Puck’s gentle coaxing and laid his head smiling in their warm bosom.

Puck deftly reached behind their ear and pulled out the enchanted flower. They spun it between their fingers as they dangled it over Lysander’s sleeping face. Gradually, the man’s eyes fluttered open, only to be trapped by the twirling, shimmering petals of the love flower. Puck waved it back and forth, watching the mortal’s eyes follow helplessly, his mind sticky and slow from his sleepy handjob.

“Churl. Upon thy eyes I throw all the power that this charm doth owe. When thou wakes’t, let love forbid sleep his seat on they eyelid. Dost thou hear me?”

Lysander’s head teetered on his neck as he followed the dizzying flower around and around.

“I hear and I doth…obey…”

“Good…deep asleep now” Puck cooed in Hermia’s throaty voice. They let their hand move to the top of Lysander’s prick and gently squeezed the ridge just under his head. He strained against the unyielding pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head as he sank down into submissive slumber. Puck grinned mischievously as they let a drop of the flower’s nectar drip into Lysander’s fluttering eyes.

“So awake when I am gone,” Puck said, leaping to their feet. “For I must now to Oberon!”

With a playful bounce in their step, and their eyes admiring the resulting view jiggling on their chest, Puck skipped away disappearing into the gloom of the forest.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before Demetrius’ rude voice echoed across the clearing.

“Would you go home already! I told you do not haunt me thus!”

“You can’t just leave me here in the middle of the woods!” Helena shouted as the two burst into the clearing.

“That was your choice to come here. Now stay!” Demetrius said, shoving the young lady to the ground. “I alone will go!”

With that, he disappeared into the night.

“Oh, I am out of breath in this fond chase!” Helena moaned, picking herself up. “Happy is Hermia wheresoe’er she lies. For she has fair and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears. If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers.”

Helena paused her fountain of self-pity as she glanced across the ground to see the sleeping form of Lysander sprawled on a bed of moss no more than a few feet in front of her.

“Lysander?” she said, crawling over to him. “Dead or asleep? Lysander if you live good sir, awake!”

Lysander’s eyes cracked open and beheld an image of pure, feminine perfection.

“And walk through fire for thy sweet sake!” The young man sat up, his eyes burning holes in Helena’s sheer dress. “Transparent Helena! Nature shows art that through thy bosom makes me see thy heart!”

Helena was not large-chested by any means, another point of comparison with Hermia that stoked her jealousy, and was not used to a man like Lysander throwing so much attention on her perky tits. She gaped back, stunned, as Lysander looked her up and down, his eyes swirling around her long legs and luscious ass with a look of animal lust.

“Where is Demetrius? Oh, how fit a name is that word to perish on my sword!”

Helena shook herself to her senses.

“Do not say so, Lysander, say not so! What? Just because he has the hots for Hermia? At least Hermia loves you, so be content.”

“Content with Hermia?” said Lysander, completely aghast. “No, I do repent the tedious minutes with her I have spent.”

Lysander’s strong arms circled Helena’s waist, He pressed his body against her and she could feel his hardness grinding into her thigh.

“Not Hermia, but Helena I love. Who would not change a raven for a dove?”

“What are you talking about Lysander I…oh!” Helena’s mad questions died in her throat as Lysander’s reached around to pinch and scratch her nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her brain. Helena had been pent up and desperate for so long, she wouldn’t even masturbate at night for fear of being unfaithful to Demetrius. Now Lysander was pushing all her hot buttons at once, making her cunt start to warm up like a tea kettle and she was close to boiling over.

Lysander kissed up her arms and began to nibble her neck as his busy hands roamed up and down her body. A gasp escaped Heleana’s cherry lips and she pressed her rear back into Lysander. She looked up to see his eyes tearing into her like she was a piece of meat.

Slowly, Helena’s modesty returned.

“Oh, wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve such scorn?” She slapped Lysander’s hands off her body and gathered her jacket around her. “I know that you and Hermia talk behind my back! Make fun of me for chasing after Demetrius! And now you’re baiting me for what? A chance to humiliate me further! But, fare you well!”

Helena scuttled to the edge of the clearing and turned back with venom in her eye.

“Perforce I must confess, I though you lord of more true gentleness!”

With one final, spiteful glare, she disappeared into the eaves of the forest. Lysander took his time watching her storm away, his eyes tracking her maidenly hips.

“She sees not Hermia,” Lysander muttered. He glanced down and saw only a dumpy, plain girl who used to drive him wild with lusty glances. “Hermia sleep thou there, and never mayst thou come Lysander near.”

The young man, half-dressed, began walking and then trotting down the forest path, his feet moving without his thought and a curious gleam in his eye.

“And, all my powers, address your love and might to honor Helena and to be her knight.” He said with a mindless, lovestruck grin as he barged his way into the forest.

No sooner had he left than Hermia began to toss and turn. She awoke with a start and sat straight up in her mossy bed.

“Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, I dreamnt there was a serpent on my breast. A large glittering, green serpent that coiled through my cleavage and bound my hands in his scaly body. I tried to scream, but the snake’s eyes held me, stole my thoughts and silenced my tongue! I looked for you gentle friend, but you only sat there by my side, gazing into the serpent’s eyes like you were the devil’s obedient thrall. You joined with the serpent, your hands raking over my tits, my neck, my ass. The irresistible snake teased my sex with his tail while locking me passive acceptance as I let myself be used by it and you.”

Hermia took a deep grounding breath, feeling her heart thumping.

“I’faith, but methinks I kind of enjoyed it. Lysander?” Hermia finally glanced around the clearing, realizing that her fiancée was nowhere in sight.

“Lysander?!”

Hermia’s blood turned to ice, suddenly aware that she was stranded helplessly in the dark wood. She rose to her feet, trembling all the while.

“Lysander! Speak and if you are near speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear. No? Then I will perceive you are not nigh. Either death or you I’ll find immediately!”

Like a panicked rabbit, she tore off into the forest.