<span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'Allura', 'cursive'">"Fool," commented the older, but no less beautiful, faerie woman as she looked down upon the man.  "Had you travelled a mere six paces further from where we took you then you would have been trespassing into Red Cap territory.  They might have spoken with you to see who you were spying for and then they would have cut your throat."<br/>
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Her beautiful daughter looked into the eyes of the man, with her own eyes alit with mischief.  She looked at her mother and asked, "May I cut his throat, mother?  Or may I cut out his tongue?  He said that we are beautiful, so I am certain that it will taste sweet."<br/>
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"Not yet, Daughter." answered the mother.  She spied the growing excitement in the bound man's trousers and smiled.  The faerie woman drew a silver looking dagger that reflected the light that touched it through the leaves of the trees.  She held the dagger up to where the human eyes could see it, wondering if it might inspire fear or something else in the man.  Then she walked to the back of the mound, where he was bound, and from behind him she gently pressed the blade to his throat.<br/>
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"Again, foolish man, I advise you to speak softly and truly.  I will certainly slit your throat if I believe that you are trying to deceive me."<br/>
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"Mother," complained the younger beauty, "let me cut his throat if he lies.  You may still ask your questions to see if he will answer truly."<br/>
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Without another word betwixt them, the two faeries traded places with the mother handing the knife to her daughter.  Now the younger woman held the knife to the throat of the man.<br/>
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Now the woman looked into the eyes of the man with a mocking cruelty.  "You deserve nothing, human," she asserted.  "Greater than your desire to serve faeries like ourselves, your desire is to be treated like an object of sexual delight and worship, even if you tell yourself that you do not deserve it."<br/>
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The silver haired faerie woman placed her hand atop the cloth that was covering and constraining his manhood.  She could feel the coursing of his blood into it.  Then she lifted her hand away.  <br/>
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The faerie again looked into the eyes of the man and she asked him, "Do you truly wish to be our servant or do you wish to be our plaything?"  Her eyes and her expression were as cold as icicles hanging on the eaves of a cottage in winter.  The knife at the throat of the man moved ever so slightly as the younger faerie woman let out a soft, musical and girlish giggle.</span></span>