THE HUNTED: MY NIGHTMARE WITH A FEMALE LEPRECHAUN
Autumn Sinclair’s groundbreaking exposé on male leprechauns pulled back the curtain on the domination of these mythical creatures, exposing their weaknesses, their secrets, and the rewards a woman could reap from their capture. Her findings were revolutionary, and I, too, set out to uncover the truth. But where she spoke of cages and control, I have a much darker story to tell.
Because you don’t catch a female leprechaun. She catches you.
I wish I had known that before taking on this assignment. Before my whole life changed.
THE SEARCH FOR ANSWERS
Like Autumn, I started at the beginning. The legends, the folklore, the whispered tales passed down in Irish pubs. I spent weeks in Ireland, asking questions, chasing shadows, and always coming up empty. I had begun to believe that this was a wild goose chase, another myth that wouldn’t materialize.
Then, one night, during a particularly raucous pub crawl with my mates, I met her.
She was beautiful. More than beautiful—enchanting. Long red hair spilled down her back like molten fire, her green eyes burned with mischief, and her voice? A melody that wrapped itself around my mind, ensnaring me before I even realized what was happening. My friends fell under her spell just as easily, their gazes glazed, their tongues tied. But her attention? It was all on me.
I remember leaving with her. I remember the heat of her body pressed against mine as we stumbled into the night. I remember thinking I was the luckiest man alive.
And then—
Nothing.
LOST TIME AND CHAINS
When I woke, I was shackled.
Naked, bound at the wrists and ankles, locked in a dimly lit room that smelled of clover and sex. Days passed. Maybe weeks. I lost all sense of time. There was no escape, only her—looming over me, her lips curling in amusement as I begged for answers, for freedom, for something, anything.
But she had already taken everything. My will. My mind. My body.
Because leprechaun magic doesn’t just ensnare. It dominates.
HER COMPLETE CONTROL
There was no use fighting. I learned that quickly.
The first time she snapped her fingers, I felt it. My cock, helpless against her command, surged to full hardness in an instant. I gasped, writhed, pleaded. But it didn’t go away. Not until she allowed it.
And she never allowed it.
She would ride me for hours, until I was delirious with need, until my body trembled, desperate for release. But release never came. The moment she was done using me, I felt it—an unnatural, bone-deep stillness. My cock went instantly soft, and when I looked down, a golden cage had materialized around it.
One I could never remove.
THE POT OF GOLD
Her promises were cruel.
She whispered of rewards, of golden treasures, of indulgences that could be mine. But in her world, her ‘pot of gold’ came in a different form.
Oral servitude became my only means of offering tribute. Whenever she wasn’t using my body for her pleasure, I was between her thighs, my tongue worshipping her. And every so often, when she decided I had earned it, she would give me her nectar.
A stream of golden warmth, forced between my lips as she smirked down at me, making sure I swallowed every drop. And the worst part? It didn’t repulse me. No, her magic made sure of that. It fueled my need, left me aching for more, left me utterly enslaved to her, despite the humiliation, despite the degradation.
WHEN SHE SHOWED ME THE RAINBOW
But nothing compared to the night she ‘showed me the rainbow.’
That was when I realized just how deep my humiliation could go.
She brought in another. A bull. Not just any bull—a creature unlike anything I had ever seen. Half-man, half-beast, towering and muscular, his presence alone enough to make me shudder.
I tried to resist. I fought. But her power was absolute.
With a single glance, she bent me to her will, forcing my body to betray me, to obey her commands. I obeyed. I serviced. I degraded myself in ways I never thought possible, my mind screaming in protest while my body yielded. I swallowed my shame, my dignity, my very sense of self—all for her amusement.
And when she was satisfied, when the bull had taken what he wanted, she simply tossed me aside, as if I were nothing more than a spent toy.
ABANDONED AND BROKEN
The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the side of a desolate highway.
No recollection of how I got there. No clothes. No money. Just a golden cage locked around my aching, useless cock.
I’ve tried everything to remove it. Locksmiths have gawked in disbelief, their tools rendered useless. I even let a welder take a shot at it, but the moment the flame touched the metal, it repelled him—almost like the cage itself was alive.
I’ve learned to live with it now. I have no other choice.
So if you take anything from this story, let it be this: stay the fuck away from leprechauns. Because once they catch you, you’ll never be the same again.
Levi signing off… still caged.
Just the type of investigative reporting our Magazine has become known for! 🙂
Enjoy your own St. Patrick’s day adventure today , Levi.