The Nymphling and The Three Hunters. (A birthday piece to last the list until the next update)

The nymph climbed out of the river and ran for the woods.  We'll call him Xander.  He had to get away from those things that were chasing him.  Fortunately he knew that there were some hunters who lived nearby.  They could help him, hopefully.  He found the house easily enough, he had watched them head back sometimes after fishing in his river.  He knocked but no one answered so he walked inside and looked around.  No one was home.  He heard the monster coming and sighed, going to look for a weapon.  He knew what weapons were.  The elders had told him once.

Xander found a few of them in a closet and pulled out the biggest one.  It was too heavy, but it was very clean and shiny on the metal parts.  He put that one back so he could check the next one.  It was too light, and a bit rusty in spots.  Definitely not as clean as the first one was.  He put it back so he could pick up the last one.  It felt good, just right in his hands.  He walked outside and used it to shoot the creature that wanted him.  "Ha!" he shouted.  "Take that!  I'm not your nymph!"  He ran back inside in case it wasn't dead, slamming the door.  He carefully put the gun back in the closet then went to look at other things.

He had seen many humans since he had been born.  He had no idea why they wore those strange things on their bodies.  Nymphs didn't.  But maybe he could borrow some so he could go learn more about humans?  Xander looked in the nearest closet with those strange cloth things.  He pulled on a thing that they wore over their upper halves.  It was too big around the chest and stomach.  Even if it was soft and had pretty colors mixed into the pattern someone had told him was called flannel.

The next closet was full of thinner shirts, shirts with hoods, and those strange blue pants people wore so often.  He tried on something and it was much too big for him.  The pants were nearly covering his toes and the shirt came down nearly to his knees.  He put those back like they had been, or tried to really hard, then moved to the third closet.  Again, some thin shirts and some of those strange, coarse blue pants.  He tried on one and it was nearly perfect, just right for him.  He ran out the back door, avoiding the nymphettes that wanted him back and the others in the woods that wanted him for their own breeding purposes.  He was going to learn more about people!  No matter how many nymphs wanted him!


The three hunters came home.  We'll call them John, Dean, and Sam.  They found their front yard being taken up by a dead monster.  John looked it over while the Dean got the younger one safely inside.  He stomped inside.  "It's dead.  Looks like someone was in our guns, boys."

Dean pointed at the gun closet.  "Mine's been used.  His is rusty," he said with a nod at his little brother.

"Sam will be cleaning it later.  He knows better," the father complained, glaring at his younger son, who glared back.  "I don't care if you don't like them, do it anyway!"  He came to look.  "Mine's got fingerprints.  I just cleaned it last night."  The older brother snickered but handed him a cloth to wipe them off.  "Anything else touched?  I don't mind someone killing the creature but it's rude to use our weapons.  We should talk to them."

Dean gave his father a dirty look.  "I'm sure he was just protecting himself, Dad."  He went to look around their cottage.  "Closets are open," he called.

John came in to look at them.  One of his shirts was skewed on the hanger and facing the wrong way.  "Someone was wearing my shirt."

Sam looked in his.  "Someone tried on some of my pants at least.  By the dust, I'm taller than him."

Dean shook his head.  "That's because you're the same size as the really old trees in the elven forest, the ones they live in."  He looked at his closet.  "I'm missing a shirt and pants."  His father moaned.  "I hope he got underwear too.  No one should be commando in my jeans but me."  John gave him a dirty look.  "They shouldn't.  I don't want any dicks but mine in my pants."

"You need to quit going commando, son.  Girls want to capture you as some mythical creature for that.  They'd hate it when I killed them all to get you back to your duties."

"Probably," he said with a smirk.  "But I'll have fun first."  His father swatted him but he ducked.  "Nope, no underwear, socks, or undershirts taken."

"So whoever it was probably doesn't know about clothes," Sam said.  His father gave him a confused look.  His big brother just snorted at him.  "If they had their own clothes, we probably would've found them by now.  Even if they were ripped or wet or whatever.  Since we didn't, he was probably naked.  He's barefoot since Dean saw a footprint outside the door.  I'm thinking he's one of the forest creatures himself.  Maybe a nymph or a tree elf?"

"Maybe," his father admitted.  "That could be why he didn't understand that everyone but your brother wears underwear every day."  His son ignored that jibe and went to look outside.  "What's out there now?" he asked when his son kept staring.

"The trail has something on it," he said with a point.  They got their guns, reloading in the Dean's case, and headed out to check it out.  "What is that?" he asked, bending to look at the trail of wetness.

"Bad girl drool, but I didn't know it was bioluminescent," Sam said.

"Huh?" the older son asked.  "Way too big a word."

"It glows in the dark," his brother said, picking some up on the tip of his index finger.  "See?"

"We can use it to track them but how did you know what it was, son?" their father asked patiently.

"Seen a few in my time?" he guessed dryly.  "More than my brother has?"  He walked off, following the trail.

John and Dean shared a look.  "I saved him from the last ones," the son told him dryly.   "You were out of town hunting something."  He headed after his brother before the bad girls they were tracking wanted to switch targets.

The father looked up and prayed to his dead wife for patience with their boys.  Before he made them real priests so they'd never see a woman again.  He followed them, going deeper into the woods.

Dean took the lead when it got too dark.  The drool trail was getting thicker so they must be getting closer.  Or more had joined in.  They were heading toward some caves so he motioned his father to take a side path to them, getting a nod.  He'd come up beside them and hopefully they'd be able to pin the bad girls and their current victim between them.  He didn't have much experience in bad girls like these.  His little brother was going to have to tell them more about what he had done with them soon.  It'd make a good bedtime story maybe.  They heard a male voice complaining and hurried a little bit more.  He sounded panicked.

"I can't be yours!  I don't want to breed!  That's why I left the river!" the male voice complained.  "Leave me alone!  No!  Don't touch those!  I need to give them back soon!"  Some swatting noises and some pouting were heard.

Dean looked out from behind the last tree before the clearing, noticing the girls had tied the poor guy to a rock and were trying to get under his clothes.

"No!  You can't have me!  We can't have babies!"

"Some of us don't want to have babies with you," one of the bad girls said with a smirk.  "Some of us want to eat you."

"Won't that upset the ones that want to have babies instead?" he asked.

The girls looked at each other then shrugged.  "We'll take you when you're tired from them wanting other things.  After all, bad girl games are very fun, but very tiring."

The guy gave her a pitiful look.  "How would I know?  I didn't even want to make babies with the nymphettes.  That's why I left to learn about people.  So don't rip their clothes.  I borrowed them until I can go to the city."

The girls all laughed.  "We'll get them soon.  They're next on the list.  They won't need the clothes any more than you will."

John stepped out of his hiding spot and shot the one nearest the poor guy.  "Leave him alone!"

"Ooooh, the older one!  Daddy, will you spank me?" one of the girls said then cackled.

"Gladly," he agreed, shooting her.  She squealed in pain and ran off into the woods.

Dean stepped out and shot the others.  "Dad, are you using rock salt instead of blessed rounds?" he asked.  The other girls tried to get him and his brother but they managed to heroically fight them off.  They ran into the woods pouting about them being mean.  He untied the guy.  "You look good in my clothes," he said with a smirk.  "But next time, take underwear too, dude."

"What's underwear?" he asked, looking confused.  He gave him a hug but the guy got free.  "I was thanking you like the girls do me."

"No need," John said.  "You don't know what underwear is but you know what clothes are?"

"The people who come to fish sometimes tell us things if we ask.  No one said anything about underwear."

Dean pushed down his pants a bit.  "See, underwear.  So it cushions the dangling stuff and it doesn't get rubbed too much on the pants."

"Oh!"  He grinned.  "Thank you.  You're a nice people."

"Person is the singular version," Sam said, earning that same confused look.  He smiled gently.  "People are a group.  Like a town or a country.  Or a species like all the nymphs would be a 'people'.  A single people is a person."

"Oh!"  He beamed.  "Thank you!  You're very nice too."  He gave him a hug then stripped out of the clothes, making John blush.  "I should probably go back to the river and let the nymphettes make babies with me, huh?" he asked, looking depressed.

"No, you can stay with us for a few days.  Maybe they'll want you for more than that," Sam offered.  "Come on, you can share my bed.  I won't touch you like they would."  The nymphling nodded quickly and followed along, chatting with him about the woods.

Dean looked at his father.  "They're scarily alike," he said quietly.

John laughed and nodded.  "Definitely."  He caught up to them.  "What's your name?" he asked.

"What's a name?" he asked.

"What do they call you?"

He shrugged.  "Male nymphlings are so rare I'm the only one in the nearest area.  That's why all the nymphs want to make babies.   I don't want babies, I want to learn about peoples.  You guys seem interesting and neat."

John nodded.  "I'm sure you can do that.  There's no other males?"

"Sounds like a job for a hunter," Dean quipped.

"I don't think they can make babies with mortal humans," he admitted.  "Otherwise they wouldn't let me come around anymore."

John clapped him on the back, getting a confused look.  "We'll help you, kid."  They walked back into the cottage, letting Sam teach the strange little nymph how to put on clothes for real.

"It's strange.  It's like it's touching me."

"It's to make sure you don't bounce around too much," Dean told him.

"Wow."  He grinned.  "Thank you."  He hugged him then the younger son again before bouncing out to the kitchen.  John was trying to get the fire lit so he did it for him.  "There you go.  Even waterproof."

"Thanks," he said with a smile.   "What do your people eat?  I don't want you to get sick and die."

"We can eat a lot of things."

"He's asking if you eat the meat of the things that eat grass in the woods," Dean told him as he came in to get to work on his part of dinner.

"You mean like insides?"  They all nodded.  "I've never tried.  Doesn't the blood taste funny?  Fish blood does."

"We cook it," the older son assured him.  The boy beamed and went to bounce around and talk with Sam, who was picking from their small garden out back.

"You know, they can't make you have babies," Sam said quietly once he knew no one was listening.  "It's up to you."

"The Elders say that I have to until I'm not a nymphling.  Then I can decide those things.  Until then it's my duty to make more nymph babies.  That's why all males are born."

Sam grimaced, looking disgusted.  "You still don't have to.  What would they do if you were too tired to make babies?"

"They'd probably make fun of me; tell me I'll have to breed sons that're stronger than I am."

Dean walked out to stare at him.  "You don't have to go back to them."

"I should."  He was clearly pouting now.  "It's my duty to make sure there's more nymphs in a few years."

"How long before you can make that decision on your own?" the younger son asked.

"A few days at moon rise."

Dean hauled him up to look at him.  "We'll go talk to a few of the elves.  They might be able to help for that long.  They've been around longer than we have and know more about your people."  Xander beamed and nodded, waving before they walked off together.  His little brother ran after him to give him a bundle of food and spare clothes and a hug for the nymph, then he ran back to dinner.  "He's mushy."

"What's mushy?" Xander asked.

Dean grinned.  "It's when you hug and stuff for no reason."

"The girls do that now and then."

"Most girls do."  They walked most of the night, only pausing to rest and eat.  The older elves were well hidden in the woods.  And slightly scared of his father for shooting at one last year because it was annoying them.


John got up from his reading when something or someone pounded on the door, staring at the three young nymphs out there.  "What did you need, ladies?"

"Where's our nymphling!" the one in the lead demanded.  "We know he came here.  He's too concerned about human things."

"He was here but he left with my oldest son to talk to some of the elves."

"How dare you take our rare male," the redheaded one said, starting to sneer.  "You'll pay for that."

"I didn't take him.  My son is taking him to get some advice.  He broke into our house to get a weapon so he could kill the creature after him, ladies.  We've done nothing but be nice to him and all of you when we've run into you."

The redhead snorted.  "I doubt that.  You fish in our rivers.  It messes up our scales you know."

He shrugged.  "Mortals have to eat too and we do not try to catch your kind."

"They're cranky and forceful so we have to throw them back," Sam quipped from his chair.  He walked over to look at them.  "Why is he a nymphling?"

"Duh!" the one in the lead said.  "He's not a nymphette and he's not a full nymph yet.  That means he's ours until moon rise in three days.  Then he can change and do whatever he needs or wants to do."

"While I feel for you, he nearly got taken earlier by some bad girls," Sam told them.  They growled.  "We ran them off.  He's fine, but he wanted to talk to someone wiser about the baby making problems he's been having.  Has anyone actually had any babies from him?"

"Well, no," the redhead admitted.  "But that's not a good reason to leave us."

"Why not?  With the way he was talking that's all you seemed to want him for.  I think he wanted to be more to you ladies than that."

The blonde in front shook her head.  "His whole duty is to make us bear babies.  Until he changes and then we'll figure things out."

"Then why haven't any of you gotten pregnant?" John asked.

"We're not ready yet," she said, glaring at him.  "Mortals breed like fish do. You wouldn't understand."

"We don't breed that easily and I do understand.  You're using him and then you're going to throw him away for no good reason," the father said.  He slammed the door in their faces.  "Go away, ladies.  Before we treat you as a threat.  He'll be back when he wants to."

"Hopefully after his change," the son said.  "That way they can't use him and hurt him anymore."

"I understand about men being rare, because good mortal men are too, but that's ridiculous," John said dryly, going out to run them off since they were chanting in fish-tongue.  Probably to curse his family.  That was not going to be allowed to happen.  "You guys obviously taught him the wrong things since he broke into our house, fondled our weapons, and stole clothes," he sneered at them.  The nymphs glared then stomped off.

His son waved over his shoulder.  "Have fun making babies with turtles.  They might be your mental equals."  His father glared at him so he grinned.  "They are.  Well, maybe they're smarter than them, but you never know."  He went back to his current book.

His father huffed but went back to his own research.  Somewhere he had gone wrong with this son of his.  He had no idea when, but he knew he had.


The duo found an old elf's tree and the son knocked gently.  The elf stuck his head out.  "Can you give this one some advice?  The nymphettes are using him for baby making and not respecting him."

He looked at him then at his helper.  "If he touches a man thrice before the moon rises on the special night, he'll lose what is his gift by birth."  The son smirked.

"I couldn't breathe under water?  That'd really suck when they pulled me down to force themselves on me again," the nymphling pouted.

"It does, child."  He let them into his tree, the magic shrinking them to fit as soon as they stepped up to the door.  "What advice did you have in mind for him, young hunter?"

"How to get around the bitches that're using him and treating him worse than we treat leftover turnips."

"When the fateful night comes, he'll no longer be as useful to them.  All male nymphs change drastically at that point and seem to grow away from the nymphettes."

"Will they respect him?"

"The ones he lives with?  No.  The river's nymph colony is full of selfish nymphs who only think about their own desires."

"I want to know what I'm doing wrong since they keep saying they want babies and none come," the nymphling pouted.

"That's their choice, child."

"So they are using him," Dean said.  The elf nodded with a mean smirk.  "Then it serves them right if he doesn't do what they want.  Is there a way we can help him?"

"You can teach him of other ways to find the same sort of pleasure."

"It's supposed to feel good?" the nymphling asked.

"Well, yes, lad."  He led them to another portal, taking them to a place where mystical creatures reveled.  He looked at the hunter.  "You're a guest," he said firmly.

"Of course I am.  I'm only guarding this one so the women don't try anything."  The elf laughed and led him over to a bench where they could look.  What he saw.... well, that was just a happy sight that made him beam and leer.  He pulled the nymph down next to him and pointed.  "You can get them to do that for you.  It feels really good."

"But...they only want the one thing," he protested, watching what was going on.  He had no idea about any of this!  "Why are they doing that?"

"It feels good."  He looked at their helpful elf.  "Can he do that?"

"He can and others, as long as none touch his secret core more than thrice before the moon rises in three days time."

"So, he can have two but not three," Dean interpreted.

"Basically, yes.  Or else he'll be changed differently.  He might even become a darkling, one who lives in the forest to entice travelers to revel with them."

"The bad girls were trying really hard earlier," Dean admitted.  "Did you know their drool glows in the dark?"

"I hadn't.  How did you find out?"

"Somehow my brother knew and we followed it to find him."

"Ah."  He smiled.  "Good job making him wear real clothes as well.  Most wouldn't expect it."

"He didn't know what underwear was for."  The elf laughed, walking off to get a beer.  He pointed at something.  "You can do that to them as well.  That won't create babies.  Neither will what the first couple is doing with her on her knees that way."  The nymph gave him an awed look.  "Which means it's fun for you and they have to make you feel good.  After all, you're the only male.  They should make you enjoy it more than they are."  He smirked.  "Also, boys can do that to boys too."

"We can?"  His friend nodded.  "Can you show me?"

"It's been a while since I did anything like that," he admitted.  "And I can't do certain things or else you'll be changed wrong like he said."  The pout and the pitiful look were going to make him crack.  He thought only his brother could do that look.  He kissed him, making him happier.  "You do that well."

"One of the girls likes to kiss afterward.  I had to learn or she'd complain."

"They're bitches in heat.  Not real girls.  Real girls enjoy it and make sure you do too."  The nymph moved closer, cuddling next to him while he looked around.  "I needed to bring my brother somewhere like this.  That way he wouldn't know that bad girl drool glowed in the dark."  He took a beer from the elf, earning a smile.  "Here, try this.  Mortals drink it."  He drank and made a face.  "It's ale."

"It tastes nasty.  Like mossy rocks."

"It can now and then."  He took his own drink then kissed him again, earning a smile and a happy wiggle.  Then the boy stripped.  "What are you doing?"

"I stand out because I'm dressed.  Nymphs don't wear clothes."

"Good point."  He resisted the tugging on his shirt.  "No, if I get naked, you're going to be changed wrong.  We can't let that happen."  The nymph purred in his ear and they went back to watching, him explaining what was going on to his naive young friend.  At least until they got tired, then they retreated to a room to see if anything like that was enjoyable to him.  Because if it was, those girls were going to have a hard time using him again.


The duo walked back to the edge of the river, smiling at each other.  If the nymph was walking a bit funny, it was fine.  He stripped down again, earning an appreciative look and a kiss.  "It's nearly time," he said happily.  "Look, it's the elders."  He beamed and waved.  "Hi, elders."

"Where have you been?" the one in glasses asked.

"Learning from an ancient forest elf.  He showed us many things that are better than nymphettes."

"The ones here in this colony are vapid," the other elder agreed.  "Did you have fun?"

"I had a lot of fun.  This is Dean, he's my new friend and he taught me a lot."

"I made sure the elf's advice was followed," Dean said with a cordial nod.

"Excellent," both elders said with a smirk.

"It's nearly time.  Do you want to swim one last time as a youngling?  We can keep the nymphettes off you," the elder with the glasses asked.  The boy dove in and swam around then came out once the tickling feeling started.  The elders moved to surround him, a few of the elderly women coming out to join them.  The nymphling glowed blue, then black, then white and red.  He seemed to bulk out some too.  The glowing stopped and the new nymph smiled at himself.  "There," that one said.  "Now you're an official adult."

He looked at the naked nymphs then at his friend, who was giving him a look.  "For some reason I don't want them.  I want to do what we did last night."  He pounced and the girls all pouted.  The elders laughed.

"Why is it that all elder males like boys?" one complained.  "He's ours."

"You didn't treat him very well," the elder without the glasses told her.  "Of course he went to someone who treats him better."

"Can I bring him home?" the nymph asked.

"That's up to him.  He can accept that gift but it may mean not going back very often."  He patted him on the butt, getting a look from the hunter.  "Or you can come visit whenever you please.  You're an adult now."

He winked at his friend.  "Which would you like?"

"You're being mushy."

"So?"  He moved closer.  "I can come visit or you can come visit."  He took a kiss.  "Please?"

"Come visit, my nymph.  We'd enjoy that."  He got onto his knees to...hug him in pleasurable ways.  The elders enjoyed the show.  The hunter's family... well his father didn't enjoy it and clearly wanted his shotgun but his brother nearly cheered them on while bouncing around the clearing.  And they lived a really long time giving each other... pleasurable hugs whenever they could.


"Uncle Xander?" a young girl's voice asked.  "Did you really come out of a river to meet Uncle Dean and give him pleasurable hugs?"

"What?" Dean asked, looking at the child.  She was the daughter to a foreign slayer who was in on training for the last few months.  She was ten and about as curious as every other girl in the slayer building put together.

"Auntie Faith told me a bedtime story about how he came out of a river as a nymphling and you helped him, Uncle Dean.  Did you?"  She bounced over to hug him.  "Because it was pretty cool."  She beamed at him.

"Well, I did meet him coming out of a pond," Dean admitted, looking at Xander, who was blushing bright red and had covered his face with his hands.  "But I knew he wasn't a nymph.  Really cool but not a nymph.  See, he caught me watching and pulled a huge knife.  That's how I knew he was a hunter too and really cool."

"Wow.  So Auntie Buffy's story about him being in a tower and you rescuing him from the evil witches by climbing up his hair didn't happen?"

"Well, I did rescue him from some evil witches who had him locked in a tower-like building," he admitted.  "But he doesn't have that sort of hair.  I used rock salt and then burned it down once he was out."

"Wow."  She gave him an awed look then hugged them both.  "Thank you!"  She ran off.  "Auntie Faith, he's not a nymph and Auntie Buffy was wrong about him having that much hair!" she yelled as she ran.  "But I think they still give each other pleasurable hugs all the time."  She looked back, Dean was giving him a hug and a kiss to calm him down.  "They're doing it now too!"

Faith came to snatch the little girl.  "Let's go talk about private things and public announcements, Louise."  Buffy snickered.  "You're the one who told her about the hair, Summers."

"Yup, but he did rescue him."  She followed to help teach the girl the difference between fairy tales and tales about fairy hunters.  Because those two?  So adorably gay that they needed wings sometimes.

The End.