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Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 01

By: rachlou



All characters in the following story are aged 18 or over. 

* * *

Once upon a time... there stood a row of run down houses in a quiet street; one of many identical streets in poor neighbourhoods around the sprawling northern city. It was a desolate place, populated with crumbling buildings that were blackened and stained from decades of industrial pollution. 

The nearby factories spewed out continuous clouds of noxious fumes, tainting the sky a sickly shade of yellowy grey. A few lone trees struggled to survive in the urban wasteland, their branches stunted and distorted into strange shapes that cast macabre shadows beneath the eerie glow of street lamps. Pale, anaemic leaves unfurled in springtime, reaching upwards, seeking the pallid sunlight. When autumn came with its chill winds, the leaves fell, one by one, and joined the detritus that collected along gutters and dead end alleys.

Despite the grimness, Jakob saw only beauty as he travelled around his neighbourhood every day. He noticed the shy buttercup that dared to bloom in a patch of grass beside the Halal shop. The colourful sari's that adorned the window display on the high street always made him smile when he cycled past on his delivery route. 

Mr Lozynsky's fruit and vegetable trays were another source of ascetic delight. The velvety skinned peaches and sharp green limes, prickly paw paws and succulent strawberries sat in their display baskets as sunlight struggled to find a way in through the grimy shop window. A few slanted beams of pale yellow illuminated the dusty shelves of tins and assorted packets of food, as the old man sat reading his morning paper. 

He squinted at the text on the page in an effort to read the tiny print. His reading glasses were somewhere in the back room, but he was unwilling to go and hunt for them in case one of the neighbourhood kids came in and stole his cigarettes. He looked up briefly when Jakob walked through the open door with his empty fruit trays. "Another delivery needs sorting," the old man said gruffly, chewing on a pencil.

Jakob hid a smile and nodded. He knew Mr Lozynsky too well to be intimidated by his crankiness. The old man had allowed him to help out in the shop ever since he was tall enough to reach the counter. The pay had never really been worth the effort, but Jakob had a huge amount of respect for his mentor and friend. 

The rear yard was full of trays of fruit that had been abandoned haphazardly by the delivery guy. Jakob sighed when he saw the mess. There were several loose apples on the ground and some of the peaches already had bruises on their delicate skin. It made Jakob angry to see the way these new drivers took no care when they made their deliveries, but there was nothing he could do. Mr Lozynsky was too crippled with arthritis to go out and supervise, so he left them to get on with it.

Reaching down, Jakob picked up a stray peach and examined it carefully. The soft skin felt like velvet beneath his fingertips. It smelt ripe; over ripe really, but at the least the flesh was likely to be juicy and succulent. It would be perfect for eating later when he had a break before college.

Quickly he gathered up the errant apples and began shifting the cases out of the sun and into the storeroom. He shoved a crisp green apple in his pocket and left the bruised peaches on the table, intending to pick them up on his way home. 

Tonight was life-drawing class and he was hoping the girl who had posed last week would be back. Normally the models were decrepit elderly men whose skins were vast canvases of wrinkles and lines. They sat on the gilt chair and looked bored for half an hour while diligent students drew sketches of their bony bodies. It was good practice, but hardly inspirational.

Jakob was usually happy to draw anything, but last weeks model – an attractive red head - had certainly been an interesting distraction. Her curly auburn hair had flowed down her back in rich coils of fiery magenta. For at least twenty minutes, Jakob had barely been able to sketch a thing. He had held the stick of charcoal so tightly that it had snapped several times before he managed to draw a wavering line on the sheet of crisp white paper. 

The girl's nipples had fascinated him. In his mind they resembled two small raspberries; delicate, succulent fruits resting on top of the pale globes of her small breasts. That night he had dreamed about those fruits, imagining how they might feel against his hungry lips. Unsurprisingly he overslept the following morning and Mr Lozynsky had snapped his head off.

"What am I paying you for, huh? To sleep in like a lazy dog?"

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Jakob apologised, his eyes cast to the floor in a gesture of conciliation. Mrs Lozynsky stood in the kitchen holding a dishcloth and she winked at him. They both knew Stefan Lozynsky's bark was infinitely worse than his bite.

To his immense disappointment, this week's model turned out to be a middle-aged woman. Her sagging breasts and flabby thighs did nothing to excite Jakob's imagination, so he cast his fantasies to one side and concentrated on his sketches. By the time the class drew to a close, he was actually rather pleased with his work. He left college and headed home with a smile on his face.

A black cat silently watched as Jakob walked slowly past. He paused briefly to stroke its mangy fur and the cat purred loudly in appreciation. Then he continued towards the end of his street and glanced down the hill in the direction of Mr Lozynzsky's shop. A light still glowed in the upstairs window and Jakob smiled. The old man was probably still watching his television. As much as he claimed to detest modern luxuries like television, Jakob knew very well that the old man was fatally addicted to soaps and quiz shows. 

The faint sound of singing floated by on the cool night breeze and for a second Jakob was caught by the beauty of the feminine voice he heard and he looked around, trying to work out where the song was coming from.

There were various windows with lights still on, but he knew most of the people who lived in the houses, and none of them had voices like angels. He was just about to continue up the hill when he heard it again. Soft notes seduced him like a siren song and the skin on the back of his neck prickled as he listened, utterly enraptured by the voice.

The sound appeared to be emanating from a house near the Chinese Dry Cleaners. Jakob racked his brains and tried to remember who lived there. He seemed to recall seeing an elderly lady of a somewhat nasty disposition entering the house at least once fairly recently, but beyond that, nothing. Deciding to investigate the enigma, he hurried towards the house.

Once outside, he heard nothing at all beyond the faint sound of a television. For a while he stood still, his ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary, but there was no more singing. He was just about to give up and head home, when he heard the voice again.

It was hypnotic. Each melodious note sent shivers though his body as the sheer beauty of the voice reached deep into his soul. Whoever she was sounded so unbelievably sad, Jakob could almost feel tears pricking his eyes. He stared up at the dark windows of the house, but there was no clue as to where the voice was originating.

Deciding to take a risk, he dropped his bag and portfolio behind a large wheelie bin and stealthily opened the side gate beside the house. Once away from the glow of the street lamp, the yard he found himself in was very dark. His foot caught on something and there was a loud clatter of a rubbish bin being upended and he froze. But nobody came running, and he relaxed once more.

Peering up intently, he saw a faint glow of light in the highest attic window. A figure appeared behind the cloudy glass and as he watched, he saw a young woman open the window and lean out, apparently searching for the source of the noise. 

Jakob was mesmerised. 

Her long golden hair hung down as she stood, framed in the muted light radiating out from behind her. Jakob pressed his body back against the wall, hoping she wouldn't be able to see him. She scanned the yard for a while, humming another sad tune, until eventually something made her jump back hurriedly and shut the window. The light was extinguished and everything went dark.

For a while Jakob stayed put, hoping for another glimpse of the mysterious girl, but his patience was in vain. She didn't reappear and eventually he gave up and let himself out of the small yard. His portfolio was still where he had left it, and, with a sigh, he picked it up and walked home, still lost in dreamy thoughts about the golden haired girl.

* * *

Rapunzel switched the lamp off and dived on to the lumpy bed. If the old witch ever caught her leaning out of the window, there would be hell to pay. It was fortunate she was as deaf as a post, or she would have heard Rapunzel singing by now. As it was, she could barely hear the television even when it was turned up to full volume, so the girl knew she was safe in that regard.

Being safe in any other regard was debateable. She still had no real idea how long they were planning on locking her up in this attic. Snippets of overheard conversation between her Uncles suggested that their visas weren't in order yet, but other than that, Rapunzel had no way of knowing. All she did know was that they were planning on taking her far, far away.

She buried her face in the musty pillow and wished for the millionth time that somebody would come to her rescue. But it was no use - nobody on the outside knew she was here. Sometimes the sheer hopelessness of her fate almost provoked her to end it all; it would be so easy to leap from the window and fall to her death. But the fear that she might fail and end up paralysed, was enough to stop her. So she bided her time and sang songs to alleviate the enduring loneliness. 

Whilst her window didn't look directly out on to the street, she still had a good view of the back yard and all the adjoining yards. When the witch was home, Rapunzel didn't dare open the window, but when the witch left the house, the girl spent all her time watching the stray cats fight and court each other. There was a scrawny black one that appeared to be king of the immediate territory, for it won every single conflict.

Every day she threw scraps of stale bread to the birds that roosted in the eaves of the houses. The sparrows were frequent visitors on the railing across the window. Every morning they chirruped noisily outside, eagerly waiting for her to throw crumbs for them. It made Rapunzel smile to see such bickering amongst her only friends.

She didn't have the inclination to smile now, though. It was all she could do not to cry as she lay on the hard mattress, listening to the sound of the television floating up from the room far below. She pulled the sheet across her slim body and shut her eyes. At least when she was asleep, nobody could hurt her.

* * *

"Who lives in number forty-six?" asked Jakob nonchalantly as he sorted the pile of newspapers.

Mr Lozynsky screwed his leathery face up and looked thoughtful for a moment. "No idea," he said eventually, scratching his shiny head absently. "Who knows anybody these days. The world isn't like it was when I was a lad..." 

The old man drifted off on an endless diatribe and Jakob immediately stopped listening. He allowed his thoughts to drift back to the memory of the golden haired girl. Curiosity had eaten away at him for the last two days. Tonight Jakob intended to go back and see if he could catch another glimpse of her. 

* * *

It was late by the time Jakob left his friend's house. Walking back through the familiar streets, his pace quickened at the thought of seeing her again. Once he reached the gate of her house, he waited, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy; most people seen loitering around these parts were up to no good, and he had no great desire to be arrested. 

Deciding that nobody was around, he carefully opened the latch on the gate and crept back into the yard, being careful this time not to dislodge any bins. The light was on in the attic window, but there was neither sight nor sound of the girl. All he could hear was the faint sound of music somewhere nearby. 

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the rasp of the window opening and he looked up, his stomach churning with excitement. To his delight, the girl with the golden hair stood in the circle of light, gazing out across the yard. Something brushed against his leg in the gloom and he yelped in surprise. The black cat he had often noticed hanging around, jumped up on to the wall beside him and meowed loudly.

"Who's there?" A melodious feminine voice floated down and Jakob hesitated. Should he give himself away and respond? He decided to take a chance and stepped out into the centre of the yard where some illumination fell.

"Who are you?" he called softly.

The girl jumped in surprise when she saw him. For a moment she looked almost elated, but then her face dropped and she shook her head sadly. "You should go – if they catch you they'll hurt you," she said.

"Who will hurt me?" asked Jakob in bemusement. 

"Just go," she urged.

"Please tell me your name!" implored Jakob.

"Rapunzel." With that, the girl shut the window abruptly and the light went out. 

Once again Jakob was left in the dark in more ways than one.

* * *

Rapunzel was shaking when the witch, Gotha, entered the room with a tray of food in her gnarled hands. "Eat, girl," she rasped. "You're no good to us looking like a skeleton."

"I'm not hungry," the girl said sullenly. She turned her back and stared at the wall.

"Suit yourself," the witch muttered, before hobbling back out of the room and locking the door behind her. 

The girl heaved a sigh of relief when she was left alone again. Even solitude was better than being in the same room as Gotha. The old witch scared her witless. Despite her decrepit appearance, she was nobodies fool. Not even the Uncles dared to cross her – she'd heard them receive the sharp end of Gotha's tongue several times already.

Moonlight shone in through the window as Rapunzel lay on her bed. Her thoughts kept returning to the boy in the yard. Who was he and maybe he could help her? Then she remembered the Uncles and Gotha. The fear of what might happen to the boy made her feel sick and she knew she couldn't allow someone else to be sucked into her nightmare world.

But still, it was nice to talk to someone other than the birds. It felt like forever since she'd been taken away from her home and friends. 

Will I ever see any of them again? Probably not if the Uncles and Gotha have their way. I am far too valuable to them. I'm just a commodity – something to be sold.

* * *

Jakob found his thoughts drifting back to the girl at every opportunity. It was if she had cast a spell on him and now he was bewitched. Every chance he got he wandered past the house, hoping for some insight into why such a beautiful girl was shut in an attic room. 

A couple of times he saw an old crone entering the house. She looked too frail to be threatening, but the two men who turned up one evening were a different matter. They definitely looked threatening and Jakob couldn't help but wonder what on earth was going on in the house.

He tried to broach the subject with Mr Lozynsky, but the old man wasn't interested. "You keep your nose out of what doesn't concern you," he warned. "I don't pay you good money to go poking about in other people's private business."

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Mr Lozynsky that he didn't pay him much at all, but Jakob thought better of it. There was no sense in riling the old man up. So he got on with his work and tried not to think about the girl. 

Two nights later he was back in the yard, staring up at her window like an idiot. He could see a light on, but she didn't appear. Eventually frustration took hold and Jakob decided to try and attract her attention. He dropped to his knees in the dark and felt around in the dirt for a small pebble. Once he had found one, he took aim and threw it.

Fortunately he was a good shot and the pebble was right on target. It clattered against the glass and fell back to the ground. Immediately Jakob jumped away, towards the gate, prepared to make a swift exit in the event that his plan went horribly wrong. But to his delight, the girl appeared at the window and carefully opened it.

She peered out into the yard with her long hair hanging down like rope. Jakob stepped out of his hiding place and called up to her in a low voice,

"Hey! Rapunzel!"

"What are you doing?" she said softly. "I thought I told you to stay away!"

"I wanted to see you again," he replied, grinning like an idiot.

She giggled lightly, her voice flowing like water across pebbles in a stream. "You're crazy," she said eventually. "If Gotha catches you, there'll be trouble." Her face grew serious again.

Jakob became frustrated. Talking like this was no good – she was too far away. He quickly scanned the side of the house. There was a drainpipe that led up the wall, right past her window. It looked fairly strong, but he wouldn't know if it could hold his weight until he tried it.

"Is there anyone in?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, Gotha is out. She goes places some evenings – I don't know where." She shrugged.

Jakob decided to take a chance. He reached up and grasped hold of the metal pipe; it felt secure enough, so using the joints placed at frequent intervals, he began to climb up. Rapunzel watched him from high above, her face fearful as he ascended towards her window.

Eventually he reached the railing across the sill and pulled himself over and into her room. They stared at each other nervously. Now that he was actually close to her, Jakob found himself completely lost for words. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

Her hair hung in long skeins of spun gold, curling down past her waist. She was tiny; barely up to his shoulder, and her skin was delicate shade of porcelain white. He was almost afraid to be in her presence because she was so fragile; he felt like she might snap in two.

"What's your name?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Jakob," he replied dreamily, still hopelessly transfixed by her beauty. 

She smiled sweetly and walked across the room. The thin cotton shift she wore was virtually transparent and her slim body was more than visible through the gauzy material. Jakob swallowed hard. He tried not to stare at her breasts, but it was impossible. In an attempt to control his inevitable reaction, he quickly glanced around the sparse space, taking in how bare it was.

"Why are you stuck in here?" he asked in bemusement.

"My father did something bad and they took me to pay his debt." Rapunzel bit her lip and stared at the floor.

"What did he do?" Jakob was struggling to understand how anyone could imprison a young woman without consequences.

"He stole from Gotha and she took me from him as a punishment. My Uncles are on her side – they are planning to send me away."

"Where to?"

"I don't know." Rapunzel began to cry silently. She had tried to be strong, but faced with this boy's sympathy, the carefully erected wall that held her emotions in check, crumbled. 

Jakob went to her. The pain evident on her face was more than he could bear. He sat beside her on the bed and clumsily placed an arm across her shoulders, feeling the trembling of her body.

After a moment, he felt her relax and lean against him, her face buried in the curve of his neck. Jakob tried to imagine how it must feel being trapped in this grim room, but he couldn't. It was so far beyond his comprehending, he couldn't even begin to understand what she must be going through. 


Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 01



It was like a bizarre nightmare. He half wondered if he was imagining the whole episode. Maybe he would wake up any second to find it had all been a strange dream - a figment of his overactive imagination. 

But the warm tears that soaked the collar of his shirt felt real enough. Eventually she lifted her head, her long lashes damp and her eyes huge saucers in her pale face. "I'm sorry, she said. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this mess."

"No, no!" Jakob said. "I want to help!"

"But you can't help." Her voice was flat with resignation.

Jakob thought fast. "I can tell someone, the police, anybody. Surely somebody will be able to do something?"

"You can't do that – if the police are involved, Gotha and the Uncles will hurt my father." Rapunzel gazed at him sorrowfully and he felt his heart break into a thousand pieces.

As much as he didn't really understand why she thought this was the case, Jakob knew he had to respect her wishes for now. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her, or make things worse for her.

"Okay, I can see—"

There was a bang from downstairs and Rapunzel flew off the bed in a blind panic. "You must go, NOW!" she hissed fearfully. 

Jakob felt her fear infecting him with its urgency and he shot over to the window. "I'll be back!" he promised, before blowing her a brief kiss. Swinging his legs over the sill, he managed to reach out and grasp the drainpipe. It was far easier climbing down than it had been climbing up. 

Once his feet touched the ground, he glanced back up. Rapunzel stood in the window, watching him. She gave him a small wave, then she disappeared from sight and the light went out. Jakob was left in the darkness of the yard with only the feral cats for company. 

* * *

Rapunzel pretended to be asleep when Gotha came to check on her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and huddled stiffly beneath the thin blanket in the vain hope the old witch would leave her alone.

"Wake up!" the witch rasped in her ear.

The girl didn't stir. 

"Stupid girl," the witch hissed crossly. Rapunzel heard the clatter of a tray being placed on the table beside the bed, and then the slow shuffling sound of the witch dragging her hideous body across the filthy floor. There was a merciful silence after the door had slammed shut and the bolt had been pushed across once again.

Rapunzel opened her eyes and sat up. She looked down with distaste at the bowl of grey soup on the tray. It looked disgusting and she knew from bitter experience that it also tasted disgusting. With a grimace, she shoved the tray to one side and walked over to the window. It was black and silent outside; Jakob had gone.

She allowed a small smile to curve her lips as she thought about the boy. As fearful as she was about the consequences, she couldn't help but hope he would return as he had promised. It felt like a small chink of light had broken through the door of her miserable world. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.

* * *

Jakob waited across the road from the house. It was dark and the evening was growing late, but he wanted to see Rapunzel again. He knew it was madness to take such a risk, but he was going to do it anyway. A man walked nearby with his dog, a vicious looking bull terrier, but Jakob ignored his curious glances. The dog growled in the back of its throat as it passed and Jakob took a step back towards the wall nervously. 

The sound of a door opening caught his attention and he forgot about the dog. The old witch was leaving the house. Jakob wondered where on earth she could be going at such an hour, but he didn't let that trouble him too much as her departure gave him the opportunity to visit Rapunzel. Once the old lady was out of sight, Jakob carefully opened the side gate and entered the yard. A light was on in the attic window and when he threw a pebble up at the glass, Rapunzel appeared immediately.

"You're back!" she exclaimed happily.

Jakob grinned in the darkness and quickly shinned up the drainpipe. Within minutes he was in Rapunzel's room and they giggled like kids. 

"I wasn't sure you would return," she told him.

"I promised I would, didn't I?"

She shrugged. "Promises don't mean a lot to me." She looked at the bag slung over his shoulder. "What's in there?" she asked curiously.

"I brought my sketchpad with me." Jakob looked down bashfully. "I was hoping you might let me draw you..."

"You want me to be your model?" She danced on the spot. "Ooh yes! I would love to!"

"Cool!"

Then her expression fell and she looked worried again. "I don't know how long we have though." 

Jakob reached out and held her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll look after you," he said earnestly. It was one promise he almost certainly wouldn't be able to keep, but he felt he needed to at least offer.

Rapunzel's eyes grew moist and her lip wobbled. "Thank you," she said. 

Jakob's heart threatened to burst right out of his chest and he struggled to control the wave of emotion that seared his soul. If the old witch had entered the room in that moment, he quite literally would have sacrificed his life for Rapunzel; he felt so strongly about her. Fortunately for both of them, the witch was miles away. 

Jakob looked at the bed thoughtfully. "Could you lie down over there?" he asked the girl, anxious to begin drawing her.

She smiled and climbed on to the bed, reclining in an innocently seductive pose. Jakob was once more left speechless. She was wearing a silky shift and now that she was lying down, the material rose up her thighs to reveal long, sleek limbs of creamy white.

Despite the gloomy lighting, he could easily see the dark shadow between her thighs and the gentle curve of her breasts, tipped with rosy aureoles. Struggling to yank his thoughts back to the task in hand, he hurriedly reached into his bag and pulled a sketchpad out.

"Am I okay like this?" Rapunzel asked with uncertainty when he didn't say a word.

"Yes," he coughed. "You look...great." His voice sounded un-natural even to his own ears, but Rapunzel didn't seem to notice. She smiled serenely and relaxed against her pillow with her blonde hair spread out in a wave of lustrous gold.

Jakob sat down on the stool by the window and with a trembling hand he drew the first line of his composition. As he focussed his attention on the drawing, he determinedly forgot the feverish fire flowing in his veins. His practised eye followed the curves of her slender body and translated the image on to the sheet of paper beneath his hand. 

Eventually, Jakob placed his sketchbook down and smiled. He was happy with the drawing – it was probably the best work he'd ever done.

"Can I look?" Rapunzel jumped up when she realised he'd finished.

He nodded shyly. She danced across the room with excitement and peered at the page. 

"I look...beautiful!" She seemed astonished to see her own likeness on the page.

"You ARE beautiful," Jakob told her earnestly. He turned to see her eyes sparkling like sapphires as she smiled with pleasure at his sincere compliment. 

"Do you really think so?" 

She really has no idea how stunning she is, thought Jakob with amazement. He could feel himself helplessly drowning in the azure pools of her eyes. Slowly the irises darkened and her pupils dilated. Unwillingly his gaze slid down towards her pink, moist lips, parted expectantly.

It would be so easy to kiss her. He felt the inevitable force of attraction compelling his body closer. Suddenly they were millimetres apart, their breath mingling in the warm air of the room. He reached out and touched her cheek; the soft, velvety skin felt like a downy peach beneath his fingertip. 

As he traced a line towards her mouth, listening intently to her shallow breathing, Rapunzel's eyes closed languorously and he watched with total absorption as her breasts rose and fell rhythmically beneath the gauze of her shift. 

When he finally touched his lips to hers, he felt the tingle of electricity that arced through them both lift every hair on the back of his neck. She tasted of strawberries - all ripe and succulent. Her lips were soft against his mouth and he fought the urge to crush her to his body passionately. 

The sound of a banging door reverberated through the room and Rapunzel jumped like she'd been shot. "She's back!" she gasped in horror.

Jakob needed no second bidding. Despite the heady cocktail of lust swirling like fog in his brain, the fear of being caught with Rapunzel soon cleared the murky fugue. He quickly grabbed his sketchbook and shoved it into his bag. Within seconds he was shinning down the drainpipe like an agile monkey.

Once back on the ground, he looked up at the window, but the light had gone out and there was no sign of Rapunzel. He had to believe she was okay for the alternative was too frightening.

* * *

Mr Lozynsky watched silently as Jakob lifted the heavy trays of fruit and carried them into the storeroom. The boy had been humming a faint tune all morning and appeared lost in a world of his own. Every so often a smile would light up his face and Stefan felt certain something was awry. He had never seen him like this before. It wasn't right. He grumbled to himself as he went back into the main shop area.

His wife raised on eyebrow at him when she came in from the damp street, shaking the raindrops from her umbrella. "What's eating you, old man?" she asked.

"The boy – he's acting funny," Stefan said with a surly scowl. "He's not been himself for a week or more now."

Rosa Lozynsky chuckled throatily. "Are you so old that you can't remember what it feels like to fall in love?" she asked with a rueful smile.

"What are you talking about?" Stefan scratched his head in bemusement. Rosa comes out with some rubbish at times, but this takes the biscuit, he thought with irritation.

"You're a fool, old man," Rosa replied scornfully. "It's written all over his face – the boy is in love." She shook her head and left him to his newspaper. Men, she thought with annoyance. They know nothing!

* * *

Rapunzel heard Gotha leave on one of her nightly excursions and she gleefully stood in the window waiting for Jakob to arrive. Since he had begun visiting her every time Gotha left the house, her pathetic existence had been enriched beyond measure. Despite the Sword of Damocles still hanging over her head, she had almost managed to forget the reasons for her captivity.

Jakob brought her pleasure and he made her feel special. The way he stared at her when he thought she wasn't looking; the way he touched her when they sat together on her bed, talking and laughing about stupid things. The way he kissed her...

It was all new to her. Before she became a prisoner in this miserable house with its bare attic room, she hadn't really spent much time with boys. Father had kept a close rein on her activities; she was allowed to go to school, but not allowed out at any other time. Consequently she was very naïve in the ways of the world.

Jakob had shown her things that amazed her. He brought books with him; books filled with pictures of beautiful paintings and sculptures. For ages they talked about the artwork and what they liked about each piece. A whole new world had opened up and Rapunzel was thoroughly enjoying herself.

She was enjoying other things too. They way her body felt when Jakob kissed her was something she had also never experienced before. He made her skin tingle and her pulse race with excitement. When she was alone, she would lie on her bed and think about him, her body aching with a strange need that she didn't really understand. 

During the long days when the house was quiet, Rapunzel dreamt about Jakob and imagined how things would be if she were freed from this attic prison. She pictured them walking through the park, talking and laughing about silly things. Her daydreams were a blissful escape from the reality of her uncertain future.

* * *

Gotha hobbled down the street towards the bus stop whilst Jakob hid behind a rusting wreck of a car and bided his time. Once the old witch had disappeared from sight, he made his way up to the attic where Rapunzel was waiting for him.

The minute his feet touched the moth eaten rung beneath the window, they fell into each other's arms like shipwrecked survivors. Jakob buried his face in the luxurious length of Rapunzel's golden hair as he breathed in her alluring scent. 

Tonight she wore a simple dress; a plain white cotton garment that brushed her knees and hung loosely from her slim frame. On any other woman it would have looked shapeless and unflattering, but on Rapunzel the unassuming slip was sexy beyond words. 

Jakob ran his hands down her back until he reached the curve of her bottom. She sighed against him and arched her body towards his, inviting further caresses. He had brought some more books for them to look at, but, as his pulse rate quickened, intellectual exploration was the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think about was holding the girl who had consumed every waking moment since he'd first clapped eyes on her.

Unable to stop himself, Jakob slid one hand up her body until he brushed the curve of her breast. He felt her suck in a sharp breath and for a moment he panicked that he had overstepped the mark. But she didn't pull away. Instead she pushed her small mound into the palm of his hand and moaned. 

He felt the hardness of her nipple and feverishly wondered what it would taste like. The cotton dress began to slide off her shoulder and more milky white flesh was revealed to his avid gaze. Rapunzel continued to press her sweet body against him and Jakob dimly wondered if she had any idea of the effect she was having on his good intentions. 

As much as he recognised that they ought to stop this madness, his hands continued to act of their own volition, apparently unfazed by the huge potential for disaster. With trembling fingers, Jakob pulled the cotton down further until the gentle swell of Rapunzel's breasts were exposed to his adoring eyes. Her tiny nipples were perfect; a delicate rose colour daubed on the tips of her snowy white breasts.

For a moment he paused and gazed into Rapunzel's blue eyes. "Shall we look at the books now?" he asked hesitantly.

Her face registered confusion. "Don't you like me?" she replied with a quivering lip.

Jakob drew her to him and kissed her softly. "I more than like you," he told her, all thoughts of books forgotten again.

Rapunzel relaxed and sighed happily. Shyly she ran her hands down his chest, watching his face intently when he trembled beneath her innocent touch. He held his breath when she reached the leather belt that looped through the waistband of his jeans. 

Time stopped in its tracks when he felt the first feathery flutter of her fingers across his bulging crotch. Jakob forgot all the reasons he had for calling a halt, and he closed his eyes in rapturous surrender. Her innocent caresses inflamed his desire more than he ever could have imagined.

"You feel so hard," she said in wonderment as she stroked him through the rough denim. 

Jakob could do little more than groan. Needing to touch her too, he reached out and found the delicate swell of her exposed breast and taut little nipple. Hearing her harsh breath when he rolled the bud between his finger and thumb encouraged him to pull her dress down from the other shoulder.

The cotton slipped from her slim frame and pooled in a heap on the floor. Her beauty entranced Jakob; she reminded him of Botticelli's Birth of Venus – one of his favourite paintings. Shyly her hands fell to her sides and she stared at him through the golden strands of her hair.

As much as the artist in Jakob itched to capture Rapunzel's essence on paper once again, the need to touch her was far, far stronger. He traced a path down her body, exploring each subtle contour and velvety plain. When his questing fingers reached the apex of her thighs, he stopped and looked at her questioningly.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted expectantly. Grasping his hand, she pushed it against the dewy folds of her femininity. Jakob felt the heat of her and the thick moisture that coated his fingers. 

This was all new to him; he had only kissed a few girls in the past and had never had the opportunity to touch them in this way. Before this shining moment, his only previous experience of naked female flesh was in his life drawing classes and within the pages of art books. None of that had prepared him for the reality that was this living, breathing...trembling girl before him. He felt her quivering and he began to stroke her, testing her responses to his touch.

She grabbed his shoulder and writhed against his hand. "Ohh..." she gasped, closing her eyes. Her body arched towards his and he grasped her waist, fearful that she might fall backwards in her delirium. The small mounds of her breasts were thrust in the direction of his eager lips and he finally did the one thing he'd dreamed of for so many nights.

Taking a sweet rosy nipple into his mouth, he suckled gently. He was rewarded by a keening sound and Rapunzel gripped his shoulder even harder. Her flesh tasted divine and the feel of her breast against his lips was heavenly. Ignoring the insistent ache in his loins, he moved across to the other tender breast. 

Rapunzel was becoming increasingly vocal and Jakob decided to move to the bed where they would be more comfortable. He reluctantly released her nipple from his adoring lips and scooped the girl up in his arms.

She clung to him as her hair cascaded down to the floor and they both collapsed on the bed a few feet away. Jakob half lay on top of her, kissing her fragrant skin as her hands reached out for him. Their mouths met in a passionate kiss and he wondered if it was possible to feel such pleasure and still be alive and breathing. 

Somehow his shirt came off, followed by his jeans. Her body writhed against him and she found the hardness of his cock with her hand. Just the feel of her fingers wrapped around his throbbing length was almost enough to end it. He tried to pull away, but Rapunzel grasped his hips and they rolled together in a delirious tangle of limbs. 

She wrapped her thighs around his waist and with unerring accuracy his cock entered her wetness in a surge of mutual pleasure. When he encountered a barrier, his eyes widened with uncertainty as he looked down at the girl beneath him.

"Don't stop," she pleaded when he hesitated.

She didn't give him the chance to withdraw. Taking matters into her own hands, she firmly thrust against him, gasping as her barrier broke and warm wetness flooded out. Jakob felt her inner muscles spasmodically gripping his shaft and he moved fast towards the conclusion of their pleasure. He felt her teeth biting his neck and her hands scratched his back.

The room faded into grey nothingness as all his focus narrowed to the place where their bodies were joined. In a shining moment of bliss, he cried out his pleasure and emptied his soul into her welcoming heat. He was only dimly aware of her moans of pleasure as he slid from her and collapsed to one side. 

They lay together with Rapunzel's head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. Her small hand traced random patterns on the golden skin of his smooth chest while her leg hooked over his. He turned to kiss her tenderly and she sighed softly against his mouth. 

It was a moment of pure perfection. He didn't think he had ever been so happy. This girl was everything he had ever dreamed of – and more besides. He wished they could stay like this forever, cocooned in their own private sanctuary of love. 

The sound of a door slamming from somewhere below had Jakob jumping up in a thrice. Rapunzel stared at him in wide-eyed terror as he grabbed his clothes and bag. He didn't waste time pulling his clothes on - he simply climbed out of the window, naked, with his stuff clutched under his arm. His last image of Rapunzel was of her lying naked on the bed, her thighs streaked with dark blood.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 01



* * *

Rapunzel was frozen for a few minutes as she contemplated her fate should Gotha walk in on her like this. That thought was enough of an incentive to propel her into action and she dashed over to the sink and grabbed a wash cloth. By the time the old witch had unlocked the door, Rapunzel was under the covers and pretending to be asleep. The bloodied flannel had been shoved beneath the mattress and the stain on her sheet was covered with a spare blanket. 

She breathed slowly and rhythmically as Gotha leaned over her and muttered darkly. Eventually, when the witch got no response, she left Rapunzel alone and the girl heaved a huge sigh of relief. 

Snuggling under the bedclothes, Rapunzel kept her eyes closed and allowed her mind to wander over the events of the evening. Her body felt sore, but it still hummed with pleasure and she wished Jakob had been able to stay. A secret smile danced across her lips and she hugged the memory of their lovemaking tightly to herself. She could only hope that Jakob was able to return soon.

* * *

It was four long days before Gotha left Rapunzel alone and Jakob was able to visit her again. Every night she had dreamed of him and every day she sat beside her attic window, staring out on to the world she was only a spectator to. 

When she heard Gotha switch her television off and the front door slammed, Rapunzel was immediately driven into a frenzy of excitement. Surely now Jakob will come and see me! No sooner had the thought entered her head, then the drainpipe rattled and she looked out to see his dark head ascending towards her. 

The second he entered her room they fell upon one another like it had been months, not days. Eventually she broke the kiss and curled her body against him like a cat.

"I missed you," she said softly.

"I missed you too," he admitted and her heart melted into a puddle. "I wanted to come sooner, but I didn't see the old woman leave."

Rapunzel frowned. "No, she's stayed in for some reason. Even the Uncle's haven't been round for a while." She had reflected on this all week, but since nobody ever told her anything, she didn't know what might be happening. At least they hadn't sent her away yet. 

"Why don't you leave with me?" asked Jakob again as he spun some of her hair between his fingers. Despite her fear of the consequences, he felt it was far more dangerous for her to stay here. From things she'd told him, he was beginning to believe that her life could be in danger and he was frightened.

"No!" she said emphatically. "I won't let them hurt Father!"

Jakob held her tightly. "But what if they send you away, as they have hinted at?"

"Please," pleaded Rapunzel, "don't talk about that now. I want to be happy, not sad."

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and Jakob bit back the words he wanted to say. Maybe she was right – maybe now was not the time. Pushing his doubts to one side, he kissed her again and allowed their passion to eclipse the shadows that haunted them both.

Love flared brightly in the dark attic room. Later, when it was over, they clung together on the lumpy mattress and stared through the large window at the twinkling stars, both lost in separate contemplation of an uncertain future. 

* * *

Rapunzel didn't hear the heavy footsteps that signalled Gotha's impending arrival. When the old witch unlocked the door, she was standing before the sink, staring dreamily at her reflection as she brushed out the tangles in her hair.

Her long white shift clung to the rounded curves of her body and the swell of her belly was all too evident in the light that shone in from outside. Even Gotha could see that something was amiss. The virginal girl, who had arrived several months ago, was clearly no longer quite so innocent.

With a speed that belied her age, the witch strode across the room and grabbed Rapunzel by the hair. "What have you been up to, girl?" she snarled.

Rapunzel screamed in pain as her hair was pulled from her scalp. "Stop!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're hurting me!"

"You silly little bitch!" Gotha ranted as she dragged the girl towards the bed. "You're worth nothing to me now – I needed you untouched to make any money. You're stupid father swore blind you were pure."

The girl cowered as blows rained down on her head. She didn't understand. What did Gotha mean when she said Father had sworn she was 'pure'? Was Father somehow involved? Nothing made any sense any more. 

"Who is he?" Gotha was saying. "Tell me!"

She had no choice. Racked with wretched sobs, she finally gave Gotha his name. Jakob. The old witch glowered at her before leaving the room. For a short while, Rapunzel was left alone with her tears. But soon the witch returned. The sight of a huge pair of scissors in her claw-like hand sent a stab of fear through the girl's quaking heart.

Gotha grabbed hold of Rapunzel's hair and began to lop her golden locks off. The strands fell to the floor in piles of shimmering colour until Rapunzel was left with nothing but a few wispy tufts. She was hauled in front of the cracked mirror and shown her reflection.

"That'll teach you, girl," snarled the witch with pure venom. "Now tell me when he comes to visit you..."

* * *

Jakob waited until the old witch shuffled round the corner as she always did, then he ducked into the yard. It didn't take him long to shin up the drainpipe, but to his surprise, there was no sign of Rapunzel in the room when he climbed over the windowsill.

Something strange caught his eye and he walked over to the small dresser in the corner. When he realised what he was looking at, his blood froze in his veins. It was a pile of hair coiled in a shining mass. Nobody but Rapunzel had hair quite the same shade of antique gold.

The door swung open behind him and he spun in horror. He tried to run towards the window, but he wasn't fast enough. Gotha's cane shot out under his feet and he fell in a sprawl on the filthy floor. 

"How dare you touch what doesn't belong to you!" she screeched in his ear. Jakob grabbed the edge of the sill and tried to drag his body up, but Gotha was hitting him with the cane. He cried out in pain but the remorseless attack didn't cease. In one last-ditch attempt to escape, he swung his leg over the edge of the window and reached sideways for the drainpipe.

His hand found the pipe and he threw his body weight over the railing just as Gotha's cane descended on a final arc through the air. The blow struck him hard on the temple and his sight faded into a grey blur. 

The last thing he remembered was falling through darkness and then...nothing.

* * *

Rapunzel had tried to scream when one of the Uncles bundled her in the back of a van, but he shoved a rag in her mouth and all she could manage was a muffled, "Mhhmppp!"

Once the door had slammed shut she was left in the dark with only the smell of diesel fumes and paint. She spat the disgusting rag out and coughed until she thought she might vomit. Eventually the awful feeling passed and she felt movement as the engine spluttered into life. Soon the vehicle was moving on its way God only knew where.

It was only the thought of Jakob that kept her hope alive. She had to believe he would save her. He had promised! The nagging suspicion that Gotha might have gotten to him first was something that Rapunzel didn't dare to think about. If anything happened to Jakob, her life would be over.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, the van stopped and the engine went silent. Rapunzel still felt sick to the stomach; it had been a long time since she'd had eaten anything. When the van door was flung open, she squinted as a torch was shone directly in her face, then an arm grabbed her and yanked her out into the cool night air.

The light had dazzled her and she couldn't see anything at all. Suddenly confusion reigned and she heard shouting. The hand released its grip and she was left standing alone, unsure of what exactly was happening. Then a gentle voice spoke to her and she felt someone lead her towards blue flashing lights.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," the kind man said. 

Rapunzel felt warm tears trickle down her face as a jacket was placed over her shaking shoulders and she was helped into a police car. It was over – she was safe.

* * *

Jakob slowly became aware of voices on the edge of his periphery. They kept fading away and he tried to focus on them, unsure of whether it was a dream, or if the voices were actually real.

"I think he's coming round," the woman said. She had a strange accent and Jakob thought her voice sounded kind, but he had no idea who she was. 

It was very dark and he tried to open his eyes, but for some reason he couldn't. There was also a dull aching pain in his head and his throat was sore. Everything was out of sync and he tried to focus on something, anything that might help him understand where he was. 

The last thing he could remember was climbing up to see Rapunzel. Thereafter it all faded to grey and the rest of his memory was a resounding blank. The more he tried to recall, the more his head hurt. He heard the voices again and felt something cold creep up his arm. Consciousness faded and he drifted away into the blackness.

The next time he awoke, his head hurt less and he felt slightly better. He still couldn't see anything, but at least his brain was a little clearer. The room was silent but for the bleep of machines and he guessed he was in a hospital. Where and why remained a mystery, but since he still couldn't remember anything, he had no answers.

Gingerly, he reached up and touched his face. There appeared to be some kind of bandage across his eyes and he realised now why he had no sight. It was so frustrating not being able to remember anything. More importantly, it was frightening not knowing how Rapunzel was. 

The sound of a door swishing open made him turn his head. "Hello?" he asked.

"Ah you're back with us." The soft feminine voice was different to the one he'd heard previously.

"Where am I?" he asked impatiently. "What happened?"

"All in good time," the woman said. "I'll go and fetch the doctor. He wants to check your eyes now you've come round."

Jakob felt like screaming with frustration. Why won't they tell me anything? 

Eventually the woman returned and a man spoke to Jakob. "Just relax while I remove the dressing and don't try opening your eyes until I tell you to."

He felt cool hands touching the skin on his temple and the sensation of being slowly unwrapped. He lifted his head and was surprised to find his neck felt horribly stiff. When the bandage had been removed there was silence and Jakob strained his ears in an attempt to work out what was happening. He heard faint murmuring, but it was too indistinct for him to know what they were saying.

"Jakob," the doctor said, "I want you to open your eyes now. They will feel sore, but that's to be expected. Just tell me what – if anything - you see, okay?"

He did as he was told. "Nothing...I can't see anything," he said in a fearful voice. "What happened to me?"

"Try not to worry," the doctor said soothingly. "As well as a blow to the head, you had a fall. You landed in a pyracantha bush and the thorns scratched your eyes. There doesn't appear to be lasting damage and we are hopeful that your sight will return at some point, but it may take a while. In the meantime, you need to regain your strength. You fell from quite a height and, to be frank, you're lucky you weren't killed." 

Jakob tried to digest the information he had been given, but all he could think about was Rapunzel. If he had fallen, what had happened to her?

"Where's Rapunzel?"

"I'm sorry but I don't know anything. Try to rest and I'll be along tomorrow to check you over again."

The doctor walked out of the room and Jakob was left with alone with his thoughts. How was he going to find her when he was stuck in here and blind as a bat?

* * *

Rapunzel walked down the endless hospital corridor slowly. Her belly felt huge and she was tired, but, as she frequently reminded herself, at least she was free. Her hair had grown back surprisingly quickly; it hung as far as her waist now. Despite her obvious pregnancy, her long golden tresses attracted a lot of male attention. But she simply wasn't interested. 

Her heart still belonged to Jakob. After she'd been rescued from the clutches of Gotha and the Uncles, she had been unable to go back and see Jakob. They had told her it was too dangerous and advised her to stay well away from the area in case there were any further repercussions.

Of course she had listened for the sake of her unborn babies, but not a day went by when she didn't think of Jakob. Rapunzel missed him very much. Even as lonely as she had been in the attic for all those months, it was nothing compared to this. It was only the babies that kept her going during these hard times.

She reached the doorway that led out into a garden area and she paused. Her appointment wasn't for another half hour and she knew from experience she would be waiting for a while after. Since the sun was shining, she decided to go and sit outside for a bit. 

The area was pretty much deserted. A small pond bubbled away in the centre and a few benches were situated around the edges, screened by large shrubs. It was a small oasis in the middle of the busy hospital and Rapunzel opened the glass door and wandered out into the warm sunlight, feeling more cheerful than she had for a while.

A lone figure was sitting in the corner beneath a small tree and she glanced over. For a moment she thought she was dreaming. It's impossible. No, it can't be him. Surely I'm mistaken?

With a dry mouth, she slowly walked across the paved area. Her eyes remained locked on his pale face half hidden beneath a red baseball cap, searching for changes. He still looked so familiar, but then she'd seen him every night in her dreams for the last few months. 

"Jakob?" she said as she reached him.

His head jerked up and he stared past her into the middle distance. For a second Rapunzel was confused. Why isn't he looking at me? 

"Rapunzel?" he asked in wonderment, still looking over her shoulder. "Is that really you?"

She reached out and touched his face, noting the faint scars that bore testament to some kind of injury. "Yes, it's me."

Helpless tears began to fall when she sat beside him on the bench. He turned to face her and she saw a look of joy that mirrored her own.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said. "If only I could see you now..."

"What happened to your eyes?" she asked fearfully.

"I fell from the window of your attic." He shuddered at the awful memory of the old witch attacking him in her rage. "My eyes were damaged by thorns and I haven't been able to see since. The doctors keep telling me my sight will come back, but so far, nothing."

Rapunzel felt his pain. She touched his face and embraced him, her tears dripping onto his cheeks. When he pulled back again, he cried out in surprise.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

"I...I...I can see something!" He lifted a cautious hand and touched her cheek, then her hair. "Your hair is so beautiful; just how I remembered." he said. Then he looked down at her swollen belly and an expression of joyful surprise lit up his face.

"I never knew..." His voice trailed off in astonishment. "Our baby!"

"Babies," she corrected him. "Twins."

Rapunzel wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. Her happiness was complete and there was nothing that could come between them any more. Gotha and the Uncles had been sent away and they couldn't hurt her again. After living in the wilderness she had finally found Jakob. Now they could spend the rest of their lives together...

Happily ever after.

* * *



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 02



Dale nodded, beady dark eyes focused on the narrow gap between Gretel's taut young thighs. "Ain't it, Harlon."

Hansel felt backed into a corner. Whatever might happen, he understood that his and his sister's chances of survival would be greatly enhanced by the contents of the picnic basket. They needed it, plain and simple. Bravely, he took a step toward the two men, releasing his hold on Gretel's hand. "I'm takin' that basket, sir. It belongs to me and my sister."

The man named Harlon arched an eyebrow in interest. "Just how you plan on takin' it, boy? Only one'a you, and there's two of us."

Hansel swallowed nervously, yet stood his ground. "That don't matter," he said. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Harlon laughed again. "I just bet you would, youngster," he said, then his eyes drifted to Gretel. "But would she?"

Hansel stiffened, understanding that, whatever the two men wanted from Gretel, it could not be good. "It ain't 'bout her, it's 'bout you and me."

"Oh, I do think it's 'bout her," Harlon said, both his face and tone menacing. "You two want this here basket, don't'cha? Me and Dale, here, want somethin' too."

Hansel shook his head, growing angry. His jaw set, and fists clenched. "Y'ain't gettin' nothin' from my sister," he growled.

"Ha! The puppy's barin' it's fangs! Ain't that fierce, Dale?"

Dale chuckled, licking his lips, eyes never leaving Gretel's lithe body. "Ain't it."

Harlon stood, taking up the basket in a meaty hand. He stood an inch or two shorter than Hansel, but made up for his lack of height with a stocky frame and earth-toned muscles. "Me and Dale are gonna head 'round back, take a look-see in this here basket," he declared. "So unless that little lady wants to show us somethin' more, eh . . . tasty, ya can say good-bye t' it now."

Hansel felt the impulse to rush the man and hopefully take the basket from him. He was certain he and Gretel could run faster than either man, and make it down the road before they could give chase. But Gretel's hand slapping around his arm made him pause. He looked to his sister with a frown.

I know what they want, she thought, conveying her ideas to her brother. Ya know I ain't cherry no more, so lemme get 'em all riled up, then we can grab th' basket and get outta here.

Hansel tensed, but he could not think of a better plan. He gave a short, reluctant, nod. All right.

They followed the two men around the back of the store, to a little space between Avery's Market and some nameless shack that Hansel assumed was Mr. Avery's abode. There, beneath the bright sun, Harlon and Dale set the basket upon one of several milk crates that lay about, between the back door of the grocery store and a large, ancient, dented steel dumpster. The aroma of rotting garbage was powerful in the air.

"So, you gonna show us somethin', girly?" sniggered Harlon.

Gretel stood impassive for a moment beside her brother, then stepped forward, curling her fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. "I'm only showin'," she said, then lifted her shirt, exposing the firm hemispheres of flesh that adorned her chest. Pale in comparison to her tanned arms and legs, Gretel's breasts were almost creamy white, sporting thick pink nipples atop areolas the size of dollar coins.

Harlon's gaze clouded with lust while beside him, Dale licked his thick, chapped lips. "Now, that's a tasty sight, all right," Harlon said. "Ain't seen tits like that since your cousin came t' visit, Dale."

"Yep, them's nice," Dale agreed. "But I can see hills near every day. Ain't too often I get a peek at a nice little valley."

Gretel's cheeks paled. She glanced to Hansel, who struggled to contain his anger. That single look was all it took for them to agree. But ya best be ready, Han.

Hansel nodded imperceptibly. I am.

Gretel returned her attention to the two lecherous men. "If I show ya all'a me, then we get th' basket?" she asked.

Harlon nodded, his eyes narrowed and sly. "Of course, girlie," he said in a patronizing tone. "But, uh, come on closer. We wanna good, close look."

Gretel swallowed nervously, aware of her brother behind her, even though she could not see him. The knowledge of his presence gave her the strength to commit to the moment. Her eyes falling to the ground, Gretel stepped forward until she stood just a foot before the two men, then unceremoniously unsnapped her shorts and wiggled them off her hips. Along with a pair of faded, lime-green panties, they fell to her ankles.

"Holy Mary, Mother o' Christ," muttered Harlon, groping himself. "Just look at that beaver. That there's womanly perfection."

Dale stared, gape-mouthed and tongue hanging out like that of a basset hound on a hot summer day. "Ain't it."

Harlon's breathing was ragged as he beheld the sight of Gretel's exposed genitals, framed by soft, downy brown hair. Though Gretel, of course, had never trimmed her pubic hair, she was not bushy. The swell of her vulva were clearly visible, as well as her slender pink labia and the short barrel of her clitoral hood.

"Turn 'round there, girlie," Harlon urged, finding his voice again. "Turn 'round an' touch your toes."

Hesitantly, Gretel did so, facing her brother. Hansel stared with an odd mixture of morbid fascination, detached arousal, and seething anger as his sister stood all but fully nude before him. He could accept that he found her beautiful, and so brazenly exposed as she was at that moment, strangely sexy. But as she bent over, keeping her legs straight, exposing the entirety of her backside in such a lewd manner to the two men, those fleeting emotions vanished.

A cool calmness, a sense of deliberation, took hold of him. Captivated as they were by the exposition of Gretel's sacred treasures, Harlon and Dale did not notice as Hansel stepped silently around behind them. But Gretel noticed, lifting her head just a little, and smiled. To further entrance her admirers, she reached back with her hands and pulled her cheeks apart, fully exposing the objects of her admirers' affection.

"Look at that pink, Dale," Harlon commented in awe. His eyes were fixated on the lightly fur-lined lips of Gretel's sex, the puckered anus above. "Even her brownie's pink! Ain't nothin' fresher'n that. Man, it's gonna be good to get my willy up in that sweet li'l slice o' pie . . ." he trailed off, pushing up from his crouch, fumbling with his old jeans.

"Ain't—" began Dale.

Bonk!

Just as he fished out his penis, hard at the prospect of violating the teenager before him, Harlon frowned in confusion as Dale collapsed with a groan beside him. Harlon turned, looking upon Hansel, who stood with a length of wood held in his hands.

"Now, that just ain't right!" complained Harlon.

Hansel grinned, bringing back the board in preparation. "Ain't it?" he asked rhetorically, then swung.

***

The basket held sandwiches wrapped in butcher paper, fruit, and a jug of water. Enough, at least, for a day, but not much more. Still, it was something, and it gave the twins hope. They each partook of a sandwich and a single selection from the fruit; an apple for Hansel, a pear for Gretel.

"Ain't never seen ya like that," Hansel said at last as they walked the lonely country road, following the occasional drop of glowing green paint that lay upon the road. For that, at least, Hansel was glad; part of his plan seemed to be working out.

Gretel shrugged. "Got us outta there, didn't it?" she asked simply, chewing on a bite of her pear. "'Sides, ain't like ya never seen me nekkid before."

"But that's always been different," Hansel said, feeling a strange tickling sensation in the pit of his stomach. The image of his twin sister's brazen nudity was a powerful one, he had to admit. He was not sure what to make of it, or how he felt about it. "Ain't the same, now."

She gave a furtive glance to her brother. "Guess it ain't," she agreed. "But there ain't no goin' back. It's done, an' it worked, so . . . let's just get home."

Hansel nodded, pushing away the faint traces of incestuous thought that had begun growing in his mind. He looked all around, seeing nothing but desolate prairie, mountains in the distance. A powerful sense of despair rolled through him; the mountains -- wherein lay Brimstone, he knew, though he knew not where -- were so far away. More than it would take just a few days of walking to reach.

"We're gonna need t' hitch a ride somehow," he said at last.

"How?" asked Gretel, casting her gaze about. Her voice was strongly tinted with an hysteric edge of depression. "We ain't seen no car for over an hour now!"

"Someone's gotta come by," Hansel said. Intuition struck him. "Soon as we see a car or truck or whatever, ya stick out your thumb. Show some leg."

Gretel tittered. "'Show some leg?'" she asked.

Hansel grinned. "Hey, if I was drivin' 'long some old dusty road and saw a cute thing flashin' her leg, I'd sure as hell stop."

Gretel smiled, a funny look on her face. "Ya think I'm cute?"

Hansel rolled his eyes. "Cute as a pug dog gnawing on a bone," he said dryly, although his statement could not hide from his twin that still-lingering feeling of arousal he had felt at seeing her naked.

Thankfully, Gretel said nothing. But she did smile, in an impish, mischievous way.

***

It was late in the afternoon, and the twins were miles along the country road, yet still days from home. The mountains seemed no closer now then they had been at the beginning of their trek, and that was cause for no small amount of despair. Still, Hansel and Gretel soldiered on, for wont of any other driving force.

Then, finally . . . .

The rumble reached Hansel's ears first. He hesitated in his trudging walk; with Gretel a few paces ahead. The basket was heavy, scraping the side of his leg, rubbing the skin raw where it was exposed by his shorts. He had refused to let Gretel carry the basket, citing his strength relative to hers. She had rolled her eyes, but offered no rebuttal.

The rumble made Hansel look back, and when he saw the trail of dust cast high in the wake of an oncoming vehicle, he literally dropped the basket to the ground in elation. "A car!" he exclaimed.

Gretel spun about, hope lighting up her features. She grinned and began jumping up and down. "A car!" she echoed excitedly.

"C'mon! Quick!" urged Hansel, snatching up the basket and stepping off the side of the road. "Get out there!"

Gretel did not hesitate. She stood straight, standing along the edge of the road with her arm thrust out, thumb thrust up. She canted one of her legs out, pasted a 'come-hither' smile on her face.

The dust trail loomed closer, revealing a beat-up old sedan before it. Hansel watched anxiously as the car neared, slowing slightly. As soon as the car passed Gretel in her provocative pose, the brake lights flashed and tires skidded along the dirt and gravel. The venerable car -- some old Ford or Chevy, Hansel figured -- stopped in the middle of the road.

Together, Hansel and Gretel ran up to the car. Gretel reached the driver-side open window and leaned upon the door. "Please, mister, we need a ride," she deplored.

The man behind the wheel panned his gaze over Gretel's body. Sweat had molded her shirt even moreso to her body, while casting off a sweet, youthful aroma. The man was somewhat pudgy, of average looks. "Well, uh, where ya goin'?" he asked, warily glancing to Hansel behind her.

"Brimstone," Gretel responded.

The driver frowned. "Ain't heard o' that town," he said. "How far is it?"

"It's up in th' mountains," Hansel said. He caught a glimpse of a slightly-glowing green drop of paint on the road just ahead of the sedan. "I can tell ya how t' get there."

The driver rolled his eyes. "I ain't goin' anywhere near th' mountains," he said. "I gotta get t' Bixby, and that's down south, along th' highway."

Gretel begged with her eyes. "Please, mister."

The pudgy man took a breath, ogling Gretel once more. "I don't know," he said. "That's really outta my way."

Gretel thought a moment, chewing her lip. She looked back to her brother briefly, exchanging thoughts. With a reluctant nod, Hansel agreed. Gretel turned back.

"What if, uh . . . I do somethin' for ya?" she suggested.

The driver arched his eyebrows in interest and instant arousal. "What'cha got in mind?"

Gretel shrugged, glancing around casually. "How 'bout I suck your dick?"

The pudgy man smiled slowly. "Get in th' car," he said.

***

Mr. James Cray, the driver of the old sedan, was a surprisingly nervous and shy man, given the agreement he and Gretel had struck. She got in through the front passenger door, taking half of the long bench seat, while Hansel crawled in the back, setting the basket beside him. James -- 'Jimmy' -- asked some typical questions, and received the typical answers from Gretel. As far as the driver was concerned, it was just he and Gretel.

"So, um . . . ya really gonna . . . um, you know . . . ." he said awkwardly, smiling nervously upon Gretel.

She smiled back, sweetly. "Ya really gonna take us t' Brimstone?" she asked.

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah."

Gretel shot her brother a quick look, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, then slid closer to their ad hoc chauffeur. She settled a hand on his thigh and brushed his ear with her lips. "Then I'm really gonna suck ya," she whispered.

Jimmy shuddered. "Oh-h-h . . . wow . . . ."

Gretel giggled. Jimmy's skittishness was endearing; for whatever reasons, it practically encouraged her to continue. Gretel felt that she was in charge, that nothing would happen without her consent, unlike the way she had felt with Harlon and Dale behind the grocery store. Perhaps because of that feeling, Gretel was emboldened, encouraged.

"Ain't ya ever had your dick sucked, Jimmy?" she whispered sultrily.

Jimmy swallowed thickly, beads of sweat appearing on his brow. "Um . . . not like this," he said, then let out a nervous laugh. "Actually, uh . . . not really much at all."

"Well," began Gretel as she worked at his jeans, a blushing smile crossing her face. "Then ya best keep your eyes on th' road, then." And with that, she leaned over, settling her head in the man's lap.

Hansel tried not to think about what his sister was doing, but that was a useless venture. Between the soft moans and wet sucking, pulling sounds Gretel made, and the gasps and groans of her lucky recipient, Hansel could hardly think of anything else.

Against his better judgment, Hansel watched between the seats as his twin bobbed up and down, the muscles of her narrow back outlined beneath her tight shirt. Her right shoulder moved, evidence of her manipulation of the cock that plunged into her mouth again and again. Now and then, Hansel heard his sister sigh, and she would pause, moving her head only slightly. Hansel could just imagine his sister licking up and down their benefactors' stiff shaft. That image brought out feelings of both arousal and jealousy.

Still, Hansel had enough sense to keep an eye on the road, spying the glowing drops of green paint upon the dirt and gravel. It was only this fact -- the proof that they were heading in the right direction -- that allowed him to stomach the idea of watching his sister giving head.

"Oh, God, oh God," moaned Jimmy, abruptly pulling off the road, the tires of his car digging into dead grass. He cut the engine and leaned back, placing both of his hands on Gretel's bouncing head. "Do it, baby! Yeah! Yeah! I'm cummin'! Don't stop, baby!"

Gretel stopped bobbing, her back hunched slightly, moaning as Jimmy convulsed. Hansel gritted his teeth, hateful of the man who was now ejaculating between his sister's lips, even as he wished he was in Jimmy's place. It seemed to him that the man's orgasm lasted for minutes on end, and what truly vexed him the most was Gretel's eager acceptance in keeping her mouth upon him throughout his spasms.

With a loud, wet slurping sound, Gretel eased up, sitting upright in her seat. Her lips were slightly parted, slick and wet, a bead of pearly fluid shimmering upon them. She glanced back to her brother, undoubtedly feeling the confluence of his emotions, or at the least, guessing them. With a demure, almost shamed look, she sucked her bottom lip, wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers.

"Oh . . . damn, sweetheart," Jimmy sighed, then laughed.

Gretel licked her lips slowly, tasting the residue of his orgasm. Her throat felt thick and dry, lined with the semen she had swallowed. "Ya gonna take us home now, right?"

Jimmy chuckled. "Sure thing, honey," he agreed, straightening his pants and turning the key. For a brief moment, he glanced to Hansel's stony face in the rear-view mirror, and his smile faded, replaced by intimidation.

For the rest of the drive, he said nothing more.

***

It was a little after nightfall when the glowing green paint trail lead Mr. James Cray's sedan to the ramshackle house which Hansel and Gretel called home. Hansel said nothing as he quickly stepped from the car, waiting upon the walkway for his sister. Gretel lingered a moment.

"Your brother don't like me much," Jimmy commented.

Gretel sighed. "No, I don't reckon he does," she said, then pushed a smile to her lips. She planted a quick, somewhat sticky kiss on the man's cheek. "Thanks for bringin' us home."

Jimmy smiled back. "Maybe, um . . . ." he began hopefully.

Gretel frowned. "I don't think so," she said curtly, then shoved open the door and stepped out.

Hansel stood before her, the picnic basket hanging from his hand, looking down at the ground. Gretel approached, hands before her.

"We got home," she said. "That's what's important."

He nodded stiffly. "Yeah."

Gretel's brow furrowed. "Are ya angry at me?" she asked. "Or jealous?"

Hansel's head snapped up, eyes glaring at his twin for a moment before quickly softening. "Don't really matter, do it?" he asked rhetorically. "'Sides, like ya said, we're home now."

Gretel nodded back, and followed her brother into the house.

***

Mother seethed as she watched her children emerge from the stranger's car outside the windows of the family home. She had noticed the occasional drops of green paint upon the road during the drive back, and sight of the matching puddle in the driveway had made her suspicious. Now that the twins were back, she realized her suspicion had been confirmed: Hansel and Gretel had made sure to leave a trail back home.

Damn those brats! I give 'em eighteen years o' my life, and they dare t' think they deserve more? She took a moment to quell her raging emotions, watching as her son and daughter approached up the walk. Fine, then. They can have their homecoming. But they ain't gonna stick around for long . . . .

***

"Children! So nice to see you home!"

Hansel and Gretel stopped in the doorway of the home, staring with surprise upon their smiling mother. As if the events of the entire day had not occurred, Mother approached and hugged them both, kissing their cheeks. Behind her, keeping a distance, was their father, meek as always, yet with a relieved look on his aging face.

"I know what you're thinkin'," Mother said as she stepped back, a somber expression on her face. "But ya'll two have grown up. Time t' learn about th' real world."

"By leavin' us stranded with'a bunch'a scary old men?" cried Gretel, her face reddening. "What was that s'posed t' teach us?" She shook off her brother's hand as he settled it on her arm.

Mother's eyes narrowed. "Don't ya ever question me, girl," she menaced. "To your room. Both o' ya!"

Gretel began to rebuke her mother, but Hansel caught her arm again and gave her a warning look. It ain't worth it, ya know that.

Gretel took a calming breath and nodded reluctantly. With neither a word nor look to Mother, she marched around the woman, heading up the stairs. Hansel lingered, holding up the picnic basket, meeting his mother's gaze.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 02



"Thanks for lunch," he said dryly, then let go of the handle, letting the basket crash to the ground. Mother let out a startled yelp, stepping back. Her hand flashed up, ready to slap her son's face, but his unflinching stance made her pause. Hansel had never stood up to her before.

With a last look, he stepped past his mother, giving a quick glance to his father. The docile patriarch said nothing, guilt and embarrassment telling within his features. Hansel suddenly loathed the man who had given him life. How can he just stand by and watch it all happen?

There was no answer to his silent question, nor did he think he would have accepted one. Both weary and angry, Hansel ascended the stairs to join his distraught sister.

***

Gretel had her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging her legs to her chest while she sat on the bed. The single lamp colored the room in a soft, dusky amber, which helped to make the chamber seem less dirty than it was.

"She's gonna try t' get rid o' us again, ain't she?" she asked in a small voice as Hansel closed the door.

"I reckon," he mused, then sighed, leaning against the door. "But, y'know, I been thinkin'."

Gretel lifted her head. "'Bout?"

Hansel's face contorted from the thoughts behind it. "Do we really wanna stay here after all? I mean . . . Mother's always gonna be trying t' get rid o' us."

Distressed filled Gretel's face. "And where we gonna go? What we gonna do? And don't ya be expectin' me t' hand out suck jobs left n' right!"

Hansel grimaced. "I weren't thinkin' nothin' like that," he said, easing onto the bed before his sister. His shoulders slumped. "I ain't really sure what I'm thinkin.'"

Gretel uncurled and slipped her arm around her brother's shoulder, resting her cheek against his arm. The intimate contact was comforting to them both. "Well, I'm thinkin' we definitely gotta stay t'gether."

Hansel managed a smile and gripped her hand. "Me, too."

***

The aroma of ham steak and bacon wafted up through the house the following morning, rousing the twins from sleep. For a few minutes, it was as if the events of the previous day had never transpired; they rose, washed up, brushed their teeth, slowly letting the fog of sleep leave their minds. It was only as they were getting dressed that a sense of anxiety speared through them.

Hansel froze after he had pulled up a pair of worn old jeans with holes in the knees. He stared at Gretel, topless for the moment as she held a flimsy yellow blouse. Their eyes locked; they shared the same thought: what's Mother gonna do today?

A sense of resignation in the face of doom overcame them. They knew Mother was going to try something, and they had to be ready for it. That simple fact was powerful and obvious.

"We'd best, uh, head down t' breakfast," Hansel finally said. His eyes lingered on the firm breasts Gretel so casually revealed. They had seen each other naked numerous times throughout their lives, yet now, even this candid exposition of nudity drew out a different reaction from Hansel. The previous day had changed a lot of things, it seemed. He was conscious of the fact that he know felt a certain level of buzzing arousal around his twin, a sensation that was new to him. Unlike Gretel, who had enjoyed a brief fling with Cooper Barnes (before he got arrested for running moonshine), Hansel remained a virgin.

Gretel nodded, quickly donning her blouse. She could feel the difference between the way her brother used to regard her, and the way he did now. But she was not entirely sure how she felt about that change. Part of her had enjoyed the 'naughty' things she had done the day before, knowing Hansel had been there to watch.

Does that I mean I like turnin' my own brother on? She wondered. But she pushed the thought from her head and took Hansel's hand. "C'mon, Han," she said, the feel of her brother's grip making her strong. "We only got us, y'know."

"No matter what, we stay t'gether," Hansel affirmed.

They descended the stairs as if joined at the hip, following the wafting aromas that, despite the unease both twins felt, conjured up grumbles of hunger from their stomachs. They could hear Mother puttering about in the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pans and plates, flatware and glasses. The cacophony was almost intimidating.

Hansel and Gretel stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, looking up the tiny table dressed with the old plastic red and white cover. Four plates had been set, a pitcher of orange juice set in the middle. The twins' father was already seated, turned sideways in his chair as he read that morning's edition of the Brimstone Revealer. He glanced up briefly at his children's arrival. His face could have been carved from one of the winnowed old trees that lay outside of town.

"I didn't think ya two'd be long, what with what I'm cookin'," Mother said as she saw her children. "Well, sit yourselves down. Ya need t' have a good breakfast."

Hansel eyed her suspiciously. "Another long drive today, Mother?"

Her faint smile vanished completely. "Sit."

The twins exchanged cautionary looks, then took their usual places at the table. Hansel tried to catch his father's eye, but the elder man hunched down, holding the paper close to his face. His actions were plainly suspicious. He knew what Mother planned, but of course, he was not about to share his knowledge.

And again, Hansel thought, how can he just let this happen? What kind o' hold does Mother have on him? Is my father really that weak-willed that he'd let his own children be taken away? Unless . . . unless he never really wanted us either . . . .

Hansel leaned back in his chair, feeling nothing but contempt for his father. He suddenly felt a loss of appetite.

Mother set heavily-laden plates of ham and eggs upon the table, then sat as well. Silently -- as was the custom; no one spoke when a meal was served -- the four dug into their food. Hansel and Gretel found themselves forcing down the mouthfuls of food; it tasted good enough, but anxiety and nervousness kept them from enjoying the meal as much as they should have. Still, they knew that Mother expected them to finish every bite.

So they did, struggling to do so, but eventually, every forkful was devoured and the plates held nothing but streaks of grease. Mother cleared away the plates and glasses, glancing to the clock on the wall.

"You have chores to do, children," she said bluntly, her back turned to the twins.

Frowning with consternation, Hansel and Gretel stood from the table. Silently, they left the room, unable to see the wicked smile that adorned their mother's face, nor the small bottle of sedatives she lightly fingered.

***

"I don't get it," Gretel said as they took their tasks. Gretel's was to do all the laundry, while Hansel had been assigned the task of trying to fix the clothes the dryer. The contraption was ancient in his eyes, easily older than he, and by at least a decade, he was sure. It very rarely worked, resulting in the family clothes being hung to dry on the line out back. When it did cooperate, it made such a racket that the entire house seemed filled with the cacophonous sound. But Mother always insisted that Hansel try to make the device operable; a clothes dryer was a status symbol in Brimstone.

"I don't either," Hansel grunted as he pushed the dryer away from the wall. His pockets were laden with various old and somewhat rusty tools; many of them, he was certain, predated his entry into the world as well. "She's actin' like nothin' ever happened."

"What ya think she's gonna do?" asked Gretel, stuffing worn and dirty clothes in the washer. That machine, at the least, did function.

Hansel sighed, removing the screws that held the rear panel of the clothes dryer in place. "I don't know," he said, sharing a perturbed look with his twin. "But I reckon she's up t' somethin.'"

Gretel paused, wavering on her feet slightly with another armload of clothes to shove in the washer. "Yeah . . . I guess . . . ." Her eyes fluttered; the clothes tumbled from her arms to the floor. Reflexively, she slapped her hand to the surface of the washer, to keep from toppling over.

"Greta!" exclaimed, Hansel, shooting to his feet. He came around to catch Gretel just as she slumped, eyes rolling back in her head. She was like dead weight in Hansel's arms, arms hanging to the floor, legs falling slack. She muttered something that might have been words, but Gretel apparently lacked the capacity to speak.

"Greta! Greta!" Hansel cried, lowering himself to his knees, clutching his twin sister against him. His mind whirled with confusion and fear as to what caused her to behave this way, even as he felt a sudden inexplicable fog rolling through his own mind and sapping the strength of his limbs. The world about him grew cloudy, once-clear shapes becoming hazy.

The last thing he saw -- or thought he saw -- was the vague image of Mother standing in the doorway, watching. Even through the haze of his vision, it seemed to Hansel that she was smiling.

***

Hansel had never seen a gorilla before in his life. He had never been taken to a zoo, had never seen any television program about gorillas. But he had learned of them, somewhat, in biology classes at the run-down little school which educated all the children of Brimstone. And it seemed to him, as he awoke blearily, that one of the great, furry beasts had been sitting on his head.

Vision returned slowly, after his ears told him that he must be outside somewhere, judging from the chirping of birds, the rattle of insects high amongst tree boughs, the gentle rustle of leaves from a stiff breeze. Darts of sunlight stabbed into his eyes, making him wince and squeeze them shut. Defensively, he rolled onto his side, seeking the darkness his own shadow would provide.

Amid grunts and groans, Hansel gathered his strength, slowly feeling energy begin to return to his limbs. He heaved breath upon cool, dry grass, feeling the blades between his fingers as he curled them. With some struggle, he opened his eyes, peering at strangely vivid green spears of foliage just inches from his face.

"Greta . . . ." he grunted weakly, looking about, eyes narrowed to slits against the harsh light. He found his sister laying a few feet away, demure in her sleep. She seemed peaceful, as sublime as Sleeping Beauty awaiting her prince. Laboriously, Hansel crawled to his twin, shook her shoulder. "Greta."

She murmured, brow furrowing. It struck Hansel how much the way he and Gretel felt was similar to what they experienced after imbibing too much cheap whisky on their birthday. He wondered what it was Mother had placed in their breakfast; the fact that she had done so was not in question in Hansel's mind.

Gretel moaned, beginning to come awake. Quickly, Hansel shushed her, his face close to hers. "Open your eyes slowly, Greta," he whispered. "Th' sun's really bright."

His twin muttered something, then clumsily slapped a hand over her eyes. "Wh-where we at, Han?" she asked, her voice dry and rough. She cleared her throat, gingerly blinking her eyes beneath her hand.

Han looked around, his eyes finally adjusting. They were surrounded by trees, which afforded a loose canopy overhead through which the mid day sun penetrated. They had been set, ostensibly by their parents, within a tiny glade. There was a path that lead through the trees, but no clue as to where it would take them.

"I don't know," he said, trying to hide the anxiety he felt. "Nothin' looks right."

Gretel sat up, squinting her eyes and glancing around as well. "She done it again," she lamented.

Hansel nodded, anger setting his jaw. "Yeah. She done it again. And this time, we ain't got no picnic basket."

***

No tears spilled from their eyes once Hansel and Gretel regained their strength and facilities. A morose acceptance of reality filled them both as they grasped one another's hand, following the path away from the glade. It was, as far as Hansel could tell, late afternoon. There was no telling how far away from brimstone they were. They might have even been outside the county for all they knew.

Eventually, they came to a road, but unlike any they had ever seen in Brimstone. This one was paved with grey-blue asphalt, a dashed yellow line running down the center. Hansel and Gretel stared upon the nearly alien terrain. Only once before had they seen what Mother called 'the Highway,' and that had been the one and only time the family had traveled to Culver for a funeral.

"Oh, lordy, Han," lamented Gretel. "We ain't nowhere near Brimstone, are we?"

Hansel gave his sister's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It don't really matter, once ya think 'bout it," he said grimly. "We wouldn't know which way t' go anyways."

Gretel's eyes darted left and right along the road. Nothing could be seen but asphalt and trees. Her fear was palpable, yet controlled for the moment. "Well . . . which way, then?"

Hansel shrugged and tugged on his twin's hand. "I guess one way's as good as another . . . ."

***

Not a single vehicle passed by on the road for the hour or so that the twins marched. They spoke little, not really needing to talk, knowing that nothing they could ask of the other would improve their situation. The less said, the less chance they had of losing their nerve and their drive to continue on.

Finally, as the sun sat low, and the forests on either side of the road became dark with menacing shadows, there came a sharp bend in the road. Just beyond that turn, an oasis seemed to blossom. There was a rather sizable lot before a long, low building, with several cars and trucks parked within it. A sign at the edge of the road, mimicked upon the wall of the building beside broad glass doors, read: "Haggie's Diner."

The twins practically broke into tears of elation at the sight. They hugged and grinned, finally feeling a sense of hope intrude upon their woebegone minds. Amid laughs and giggles, they ran hand-in-hand toward possible salvation.

As they approached the doors to the establishment, the glass portals swung open before them, a tall, stocky man emerging. He paused upon seeing the teenagers who faltered and stopped short in his presence, eyes scanning briefly over the pretty, albeit dirty girl. With only a slight nod and smile, he headed toward a well-used truck, sucking on a toothpick.

Sharing a look that bespoke caution, Hansel and Gretel stepped through the doors, inhaling the nearly intoxicating aromas of fresh-cooked food. The floor was covered in black and white tile, the booths and free-standing chairs before small square tables padded in dark, polished red vinyl. There was a classic jukebox against one wall, and Waylon Jenning's mournful drone emanated from speakers hidden within the ceiling.

"Sometimes it's Heaven, sometimes it's Hell

Sometimes I don't even know

Sometimes I take it as far as I can

Sometimes I don't even go . . . ."

The twins stared, impressed and taken aback. Never had they seen such a place. Old Man Walton's little diner was nothing but a shack compared this magnificent edifice. The floors were clean, and more than that, they shone! The coffee machine behind the counter, the glass-doored pantry boxes upon the short counter, even the stainless steel door that lead, presumably, to the kitchen looked buffed and polished, catching stray rays of light and glittering like diamonds.

"Wow," the twins spoke in unison.

There were half a dozen patrons in the diner, most of them seated in low-backed chairs along the counter, all of whom turned to glance at the new arrivals. The diner could have easily accommodated five times as many customers, if not more. A far cry from Old Man Walton's paltry three tables and little breakfast bar.

Hansel and Gretel endured the scrutiny of the other diners for a few moments, until the men -- there was not a woman in sight, Gretel quickly noticed -- returned to their meals or coffee. The siblings were glad their appearance was not an intrusion; they needed no more worries than which already plagued them.

"You got any money?" whispered Hansel under his breath, while simultaneously digging in his pockets. He found a few crumpled bills and some coins, which he produced as Gretel drew her own hands from her pockets.

"I got five dollars," she said with an encouraging smile, smoothing out a wadded bill against her thigh.

"'Bout th' same," muttered Hansel, looking at his tiny fortune. "Hope it's enough."

Carefully, the pair approached the counter, standing between stools at the nearest end, away from the burly men who looked to be truckers, hunters, loggers or similar. Some looked, assessing Gretel casually. One man smirked, but said nothing before tilting his mug back against hair-shrouded lips.

The stainless-steel door opened, and a tall, imposing woman emerged, walking with almost stately regality. She was both slender and strong, beautiful and imposing. Faint wrinkles were the only sign of age upon an otherwise unblemished face dominated by storm-colored eyes which, under the right circumstances, could be quite menacing. The woman wore a dark blue dress which accentuated her curves rather than hiding them. In particular, the ample and somewhat freakish size of her bosom was showcased within tight fabric, cleavage shown courtesy of a few unclasped buttons.

She smiled upon spying the twins, curling thick red hair back behind her ear with a flip of her wrist. Nails painted to match the color of the dress glittered briefly. "Well, afternoon there, kiddos," she exclaimed buoyantly, approaching the end of the counter. A cursory look over the garb of her new patrons produced a wondering laugh. "Don't you too look like warmed-over you-know-what."

The twins blushed in shame, casting their eyes down. Hansel rubbed the greasy and dirty bills in his hand hopelessly. The amused chuckles of the men in the diner reverberated in his ears.

"Hey, now, no need to be so glum," the woman said supportively. "I'm Meg. I own the place. Inherited it after my mother passed on. Here, relax; find yourself something to eat."

The twins climbed reluctantly into a pair of stools, leaning one another as if sharing conspiratorial secrets. They flipped the menus open, holding them up while Meg busied herself with the other customers.

"We can't afford none o' this," Gretel whispered worriedly after a minute.

Hansel ground his teeth in thought. "Yeah, but she don't know that," he said meaningfully.

Gretel frowned. "We can't do that," she insisted. "That's stealin'!"

Hansel gave his sister an intent look. "Ya wanna eat, or don't ya?"

A slender, blue-tipped finger appeared over the edge of Hansel's menu, pulling it down. Meg smiled upon the twins. "You two ready to order?"

"Um—" began Gretel.

"We'll take two o' th' specials," Hansel interrupted, speaking quickly. He sat up straight, meeting Meg's eye. "An' load 'em up," he added with a crooked grin.

Meg smiled and winked. "Sure thing, young man," she said, and turned with the barest swish of her skirt.

Gretel slapped her hand to her brother's arm and hissed. "What're ya doin'? We can't even afford one o' them plates!"

Hansel shot her a look. "No, but I bet we can run faster'n she can," he said meaningfully.

Gretel sighed, hanging her head. Despite her misgivings, however, hunger gnawed at her like a scraggly old hunting dog on an old bone. The die had already been cast, she figured. Might as well just go 'long with it . . . .

***

The food was delicious. Two thick sausage links served with sauerkraut, toast, warm potato salad and fresh-baked bread, with large cups of lentil and bean soup to start with. The twins ate voraciously, both due to hunger and because they understood this would be the last meal of the day and possibly the last for a while. Not a single crumb was left upon either plate by the time Hansel and Gretel were finished. They washed down the last bites with dark, bitter tea.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 02



Meg appeared to clear away the plates with a chuckle. "You two have quite the appetite," she commented. "Don't tell me you've run away from home."

The twins exchanged quick glances, conveying volumes in the space of a heartbeat. Finally, Hansel looked back to the attractively mature woman. "More like, home ran 'way from us," he said sourly.

Meg's smile faded a moment, then returned. "Well, I'll tell you what," she said, leaning slightly, affording the young man before her a more than ample view of her considerable cleavage. "In the spirit of humanitarianism, dessert's on me." She pushed away abruptly, reaching for one of the pantry cases a few paces away.

"Why'd ya tell 'er that?" asked Gretel in a harsh whisper, glaring at her brother. "An' stop starin' at her butt like that!"

Hansel blinked, tearing his glimpse away. "I wasn't starin'!"

"You were so!"

"Here you are, little ones," Meg chirped, setting two pieces of pecan pie before the twins, along with fresh forks. "Eat up. You'll need your stamina, I'm sure."

Hansel smiled back, thinking what a sexy implication Meg's words had carried. Mindful of his sister, however, he forced himself to look down, digging into the slice of pie before him even as he imagined savoring a different kind of 'pie' altogether.

"You're disgusting," whispered Gretel disapprovingly. "She's as old as Mother!"

Hansel frowned, chewing a piece of pie. He cast an annoyed glance to his twin. Ya just had t' say that, didn't ya?

As the twins ate in silence, the door opened with a ringing chime. A broad-shouldered man, somewhat thick in the middle yet impressively built, stepped through the door, clad in a sheriff's uniform. His sneering look fell immediately upon Meg, catching her just as she was bending over at the waist to retrieve a packet of fresh grounds for the coffee machine.

"Evening, honey-cheeks," he called out.

Meg straightened and turned with a frown, regarding the man who now approached her counter. "Is it already that time of the month?" she asked wearily.

The marshal grinned, sliding onto a stool. "Time flies, hey, honey?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Well, as it happens, Fred, it's that time of the month for me, too," she quipped. "If you know what I mean."

Fred chuckled. "Don't bother me none," he returned with a lewd wink. "I earned my red wings a long, long time ago."

The proud woman huffed. "I still have customers," she said, nodding toward the twins. All but a lone trucker, settled in a booth with the day's paper, had left for the evening.

Fred pursed his lips smugly, drumming thick fingers upon the counter. "Then I guess I'll have some coffee while I wait."

A perturbed sigh rolled off Meg's lips. Without another word, she turned, took up a coffee cup, and poured Fred's coffee. She brushed away after leaving the man to his beverage, and approached the twins. The sweet smile that decorated her dark pink lips was forced.

"Looks like I'm closing early tonight," she said. "How are you two paying?"

The twins swallowed their last bites of pie with matching, nervous gulps, staring at Meg. The matron breathed out, shoulders falling as she understood.

"I should have known," she said, then smiled slyly, eyes narrowing. "Well, as it happens, I could use a little help cleaning up the place."

Hansel and Gretel regarded one another questioningly, considering the restaurant owner's offer.

Meg leaned close to the twins, again showing cleavage which captivated Hansel, and spoke in a low, foreboding tone. "You don't really want to run on a check when the sheriff is here, do you? That wouldn't be very smart. Besides . . . you'd be helping me out. I'll let you two stay the night, and . . . give you some breakfast in the morning. How's that?"

The twins exchanged a quick look. "Ya got a deal," said Gretel.

Meg smiled sweetly, straightening. "Then why don't you two come around the back?"

With nods and the slightest of smiles, Hansel and Gretel slipped from their seats and walked along the lustrous counter toward the stainless steel door. The sheriff watched, following Gretel's delectable form with his eyes.

"Taking in more strays, Meg?"

Meg shot him a look before pushing the door open for her new charges. "You just stay where you are, Fred. We'll conduct 'business' in a minute." She raised her voice addressing the trucker who sat in the booth. "Hey! Loomis! Closing time!"

***

The kitchen was spacious, larger than any either of the twins had ever seen. It looked to them like an assembly line for food, with stainless still prep tables and glass-front coolers stocked with all manner of foodstuffs. The most dominating feature was an enormous baking oven, a heavy, slitted grill giving glimpses of the roaring fire within. Hansel and Gretel had never seen so immense an oven in their life. It was as large as Mother's station wagon, they figured.

"Follow me, kids," Meg said cheerily, striding purposefully around the equipment, toward a door in the back. She pushed it open, flicking on a light, revealing a row of empty metal cages on one side of the room, and metal shelving crammed with various dried goods. Timidly, the twins entered the room, whereupon Meg swiftly closed the door, twisting a key in the lock.

The convivial smile was gone, replaced in an instant with a feral countenance. "You little thieves!" screeched the woman, her once beautiful face abruptly transformed into one of hideous ugliness. Teeth as jagged as an old wolf's were bared as blood-red lips parted, stretching skin that looked like sun-baked leather. Eyes like embers burned in their sockets.

Hansel and Gretel yelped in fear, stumbling back, away from the twisted crone Meg had suddenly become. They grunted in unison when their backs fell hard against the metal cages.

"You thought you could come into my house, eat my food, and not pay for it?" roared the witch. Her hands --beautifully manicured before but now as threatening as talons -- shot out to wrap around the twins' throats. She jerked Hansel and Gretel close, breathing acridly upon their faces. "You thought wrong, little ones. You will most certainly pay."

With a quick nod of the witch's head, one of the cages inexplicably sprang open with a screech of hinges and a clamoring of metal. Strength unlike anything a human being could possess hurled Hansel inside, where he fell with a cry of pain. The cage slammed closed, sealing him within.

"What'ya gonna do t' him?" cried Gretel, struggling vainly against Meg's grip.

"You worry about yourself, girl," snapped Meg, glaring upon the older of the two. The nostrils of her beakish nose flared slightly as she sniffed. "No sweet smell of purity on you. That's good. But your brother . . . ." she trailed off, dragging Gretel beside he and approaching the cage in which Hansel now stood, gripping the bars.

The witch inhaled deeply, an evil grin stretching her lips. "Yes. A virgin male. Perfect."

Hansel trembled, though he struggled to hide his fear. His eyes found his sister's. Try t' be strong, Greta.

Gretel whimpered, still attempting to pull the witch's claw from her throat. I'll try . . . .

"Now, you just sit tight, my sweet boy," Meg cooed menacingly. "I have a little project for your sister."

Hansel's fear and anger flared as Meg dragged a squirming Gretel to the door. "Ya leave m' sister 'lone!" he cried. "Don't'ya hurt m' sister!"

The witch responded with a chilling cackle, opening the door and spiriting Gretel away. The door slammed shut swiftly, as if shoved from behind.

"Greta! GRETA!"

***

The witch's grip shifted from Gretel's neck to the girl's arm as Meg pulled the girl toward another door. Gretel cried out for help several times, screaming at the top of her lungs in the hope that Sheriff Fred would hear her. The witch slapped Gretel hard across the face, sending her sprawling into what appeared to be a bathroom.

"Don't waste your breath, you little backwoods bitch," she growled. "I've magicked this entire building so that no sound escapes from one room to the next. Now, get those dirty clothes off!"

Gretel sat up on the floor, touching her split lip and glaring in terror at the witch. "Wh-what?"

"Strip, girl!" commanded Meg, hulking like an ogre in the doorway. "I want every stitch of clothing off that skinny little body! Do it!"

Amid trembling whimpers and fumbling fingers, Gretel scrambled to her feet, hastily removing her shirt and shorts and everything else she wore before Meg's impatient gaze. Shamefully, she stood nude before her captor, self-consciously covering her privates.

"Put your hands at your sides, girl," ordered the witch, approaching the quivering girl. "I need to get a good look at you."

Eyes squeezed shut, Gretel did as she was told, wincing and flinching when she felt the dry, bark-like hands of the witch touching her breasts, her thighs, even the plump mound of lightly-furred flesh above her sex. Gretel caught her breath when she felt a twig-like finger slide against her labia, pushing in slightly.

"Not exactly his type," commented Meg, sniffing her finger. "But you're fresh and young. He should be happy with you."

Gretel opened her eyes fearfully. "Wh-wh-what ya talkin' 'bout?"

The witch sneered. "Tell me, girl, are you willing to do whatever it takes to keep you and your brother safe from harm?"

Gretel rubbed her shoulders, not knowing what the witch was getting at, but knowing whatever it was, she wasn't going to like it. "M-maybe . . . ."

Meg cackled. "Sure you will," she said patronizingly. "You'll do whatever I tell you, girl, because if you don't, then your brother starts to lose weight one finger at a time."

Gretel gasped, eyes wide and shimmering in terror. "No! Please! Don't hurt Han!"

"Then you do what I say." Meg indicated the sink and the small, stand-up shower behind Gretel. "Now, get yourself cleaned up. You may be young and fresh, but you stink like a barnyard dog. Fred may be pig, but I'm sure he draws the line somewhere."

Gretel blinked in surprise. What? Does she mean I'm gonna have'ta screw that sheriff?

The witch chuckled darkly. "Oh, don't try to play innocent. At least one little badger's played around in your cave. And it could be worse. He could be ugly."

"B-but . . . why?" Gretel asked.

Meg sighed, hands on her hips. "Because, when he first became sheriff, some ten years ago, he decided he had to do safety inspections of all the businesses in the county. Well, I don't like people snooping around back here, so . . . I made him a deal. And he's been taking advantage of that deal every month since."

"S-so . . . if ya been makin' it with him for ten years . . . ."

Meg sneered, gesturing casually. The clothes upon the floor flew into her hand, startling Gretel. "Maybe I just don't feel like it. Besides . . . It'll be interesting to see what he does with a young kitty like you. Now, get yourself cleaned up."

The door closed, leaving a bewildered and intimidated Gretel to the task of freshening up. She had to be honest with herself; she was grateful for the opportunity to wash off the sweat and dirt that clung to her skin like oil. Despite the reason for which Meg wanted her clean, Gretel was grateful.

The shower helped immensely to calm her anxiety. The reality of hers and her brother's confinement sunk in to the point where Gretel began thinking of ways to both placate the witch and find a way to escape. Gretel did not doubt that the witch would do all manner of unspeakable things to Hansel if Gretel did not obey. Gretel decided, as she brushed out her hair and stared at her reflection, that until the witch's plans were known, she would do whatever Meg demanded of her.

Includin' boffin' Fred th' sheriff, she thought heavily. Gretel took a deep breath, looking into her own eyes. Well, if I gotta do it, I might as well make th' most o' it . . . .

Skittishly, Gretel opened the bathroom door, peering out. Although she was naked, the lack of Meg's presence gave the girl a moment's hope of running to Hansel's prison and somehow finding a way out through the back of the restaurant. Naked and free was better than naked and trapped, after all.

"Why, don't you clean up well."

Gretel gasped at the sound of Meg's 'sweet' voice, and turned to see the woman as she had appeared when the twins first entered the diner; pretty, busty, her blue dress straining at the buttons, long, perfectly coifed red hair trailing behind a friendly, motherly face.

"Well, come on, you don't want to keep the man waiting," Meg urged the girl.

Gretel's heart hammered, yet she maintained her poise, walking upright and with as much confidence as she could muster. Maybe he'll be quick, like Cooper always was, she thought hopefully. Just so long as he don't wanna stick it in th' back door, I'll be okay . . . .

Meg held the stainless steel door open for Gretel, who hesitated in the doorway. Even though everyone else in the diner was gone, all the lights were still up, and the world outside was dark. Anyone driving by would be able to see easily inside the place. And here Gretel was, naked as the truth during Sunday mass, about to let a perfect stranger ravage her.

"Go on," cooed Meg, her voice so sugary it was nearly sickening. The witch's lips practically brushed Gretel's. "Go on and give that man a good . . . hard . . . fucking."

Gretel's cheeks burned with embarrassment. She had only ever known two men in her life -- Cooper Barnes, her first love, and the town mechanic, Ethan (though no one knew about that, and it had only happened twice) -- and was not all that sure of herself when it came to sex. Certainly, she had never 'fucked' a man before! And in such a public place, with all the lights on, no less!

Carried on quivering legs, Gretel stepped into the diner, staring at Sheriff Fred as he sat at the counter, sipping his coffee. He was a big, muscular brute of a man, yet with a hometown boy's friendly and handsome face. Gretel was glad for that, at least. Her immediate impression was that the sheriff was, essentially, a nice man. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, Gretel thought.

Catching movement from the corner of his eye, Fred turned his head to look, immediately arching a brow in surprise and wonder. The naked girl approached him, stopping a good five or six paces away. Behind her stood Meg, hands held together over her apron.

"So this's what you meant by 'a pleasant surprise?'" Fred asked of the older woman, before his eyes returned to Gretel's slender, youthful body. He gazed with undisguised interest upon the young woman's firm, upturned breasts, her slender legs and small patch of dark pubic hair.

"I thought you might like to try a different dish," Meg said with a wink. "Go on, Greta. Make nice with the man."

Gretel took a deep breath, nervousness churning in her stomach like an opossum running chaotically around inside her. She reminded herself of why she was doing this: 'Cause if I don't, that witch is gonna hurt my Hansel. I can't let that happen. 'Sides, like she said, ain't like I never done it before . . . .

Fred turned fully in his chair, smiling smugly upon Gretel as she slowly ambled closer. "Yeah, c'mere, girl. I won't hurt you."

Gingerly, Gretel sidled up to the man, eyes downcast. Her hip brushed the inside of Fred's right leg. She could see the growing bulge beneath his khakis, and that made her both frightened and curious. Fred was a large man, all around; she wondered if that meant everything about him was big.

Still, she flinched when the sheriff cupped her breasts in his meaty hands. He squeezed them, a bit roughly, pinched and pulled her nipples. Gretel hissed through her teeth, feeling both a jolt of pain as well as a sense of heat that shot throughout her body, gathering low in her abdomen like the coals of a fire that had just been ignited.

"Oh, you're gonna be sweet, little girl," Fred moaned softly. He rudely pushed his fingers between Gretel's legs, cupping her intimate flesh. "That's a real prime pussy you got there. You're not a virgin, are you?"

Gretel began to answer, but as her lips parted, she gasped loudly, eyes flashing open wide from the feel of a thick, rough finger pushing past her slightly damp lips, into the tunnel beyond. Fred dug deep with that singular digit, pressing his palm against the young woman's pubic mound.

"Nope, not a virgin," Fred said with a chuckle. "Still pretty tight, though. That's good."

Gretel was sure her face was glowing beet red by that point. The finger squirming inside her, however, felt somewhat pleasant, in an unanticipated way. She could feel herself moistening around the sheriff's finger. Her breasts were beginning to throb, as if trying to grow, her nipples puckering stiffly and growing darker with each passing moment. Regardless of the scenario, she was becoming aroused.

Abruptly, Fred withdrew his questing finger from Gretel's sex, and tasted the glistening essence as he smiled upon her. "You're a shy one, aren't you?"

Gretel swallowed dryly, nodding, still keeping her head down. "Yes, sir."

"I got a feeling that's about to change," the sheriff commented, shifting on the stool and pulling down his zipper. Gretel's anxiety returned as she listened to the tiny metal teeth pop loose. Fred's hand dug inside, searching, manipulating. Finally, the dark, shiny head of an erect penis was revealed to her, riding a pale, somewhat thick shaft.

"What do you think about that?" the sheriff asked with a rakish grin. He held his stiff cock with the fingers of one hand, while the other settled upon Gretel's shoulder.

"Um . . . it's okay," she responded.

"'Okay,' little girl?" Fred echoed. His voice held an edge as he continued. "It's a lot more than 'okay.' Now, why don't you be a good little white trash whore and get to know it better. And I better not feel any teeth."

The sheriff's hard words made Gretel whimper in fear that she had done something wrong. Eager to placate him, if only to stave off any chance of further rudeness, she settled to her knees between Fred's spread legs. The manly aroma of the sheriff's crotch was strong, touched with the sweet odor of sweat. Experimentally, Gretel slid her hands up Fred's legs to his cock, wrapping her fingers around the shaft. She leaned in to lick, then kiss the tip.

"Put it in your mouth, girl," Fred ordered, his voice like gravel. "Suck it. Suck my cock."

Gretel paused only briefly, then took a breath and submerged the stiff tube of flesh in her mouth. She drew the flavor out of him, sucking intently, not moving her head at all. The sheriff's cock was thick enough to make her lips stretch, but no longer than any she had tasted before. She was able to engulf more than half his stiffness with ease.

"Oh, that's it, baby . . . suck it good, you little slut. Get me ready for that tight little cunt of yours . . . ."

Gretel frowned at the sheriff's words, yet dutifully massaged his cock with her mouth, sliding up and down. She didn't like how he was referring to her as a 'whore' and a 'slut,' how he called her private place a 'cunt.' Those were rude words. Gretel decided she did not like the sheriff very much.

Yet still she serviced him, whimpering now and then as the penis throbbed in her mouth, gliding between her slick lips. Fred had his hands on the girl's head, guiding it up and down. He liked watching the sight of his cock disappearing into the teenager's mouth. Crude words dribbled from his mouth like the drool that dripped down Gretel's chin. With each use of whore, slut, bitch, and cunt, Gretel felt more and more debased, more and more defiled.

The sheriff finally stiffened, his cock like marble in Gretel's mouth. She knew what that meant, and prepared herself for the hot outpouring that signaled the man's orgasm. She was glad for his impending release, not because she wanted to bring this rude man pleasure, but because she hoped it meant an end to her abuse.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 02



But the sheriff didn't ejaculate. Instead, he pulled Gretel's mouth off his penis, leaving strands of saliva that trailed from his cock to her flushed lips. Gretel gasped, and for the first time, looked up to the man she serviced.

"That was a nice appetizer, girl," growled Fred, pushing up from his stool and roughly turning Gretel around. He shoved her against one of the tables in the dining room, bending her over. "Time for the main course."

Gretel whimpered, clawing the surface of the table, feeling the sheriff's cock nudging its way between her lips. Her arousal had vanished, leaving her dry, but her saliva upon Fred's cock allowed him to push inside her. She cried out in pain, feeling her labia pinched and turned inward with the intrusion. But her exclamation was more from the debasement she felt, being taken the way she was, and by a man who saw her as nothing more than a tool to be used.

"Fuck, you're tight, girl! God damn! Oh, this is gonna be a good fuck!"

Gretel grunted, or moaned, or mewled with each hard thrust the sheriff made within her, not one of her emissions the result of pleasure. Her face contorted with humiliation, made worse when she saw Meg standing by the stainless steel door, arms folded, a smug smile on her face as she watched.

Again and again the sheriff drove inside the girl, gripping her hips, groping around for her pert breasts. Gretel gritted her teeth when he pinched her nipples again, silently cursing her own body as jolts of pleasure raced down to her clitoris. But that tiny thrill could not overcome her sense of degradation.

Finally, thick, meaty hands squeezing her hips, the sheriff plunged deep inside the girl, shaking. "Oh, fuck! Here it comes, girl! Here it comes!"

God, no, please, no, God . . . Gretel squeezed her eyes shut, suffering the spasms of the man against her, the hot rush that spread through her womb as the sheriff's seed poured within. Fred moaned and sighed with his release, jabbing a few times, giving in to the rippling of Gretel's vaginal muscles around his spurting shaft.

"Oh . . . man . . . fuck, that's nice . . . so nice . . . ."

The sheriff's enjoyment of the moment only worsened it for Gretel. She lowered her head to the table, sobbing quietly, waiting for the man to be done with her and leave.

Beside the door to the kitchen, Meg smirked, eyes smoldering as she beheld the scene.

***

Hansel sat morose within his cage, gaze darting back and forth between the cell floor and the door to the room. Gretel had been gone for almost an hour, he figured. He wondered what atrocities, what pain, the witch was inflicting upon his sister. That he was helpless to prevent any of it sapped at his soul.

He had spent the first several minutes looking for any possible way out of the cage. But there was no lock that he could find, and the bars were too narrow for him to slip through. The floor and back of the cage were covered with relatively soft pressboard. He could not even make a weapon from it.

Melancholy and despair had set in, leaving Hansel numb. The fact that he could not hear anything that occurred outside the room in which his cell sat was both comforting and disturbing. Yet still, he felt flashes of intense emotion now and then, feelings of abasement and mortification. Gretel's pain, he knew, though he knew not what was happening to her.

When the door opened, Hansel shot to his feet, gripping the bars once more. Meg the witch shoved Gretel before her, sending Hansel's sister sprawling upon the floor. Hansel gritted his teeth in anger at the sight of his naked, angry sister. "What'd ya do t' her!" he shouted.

Meg smiled haughtily, gesturing. The other cage sprang open with a metallic clatter. "I'll let your sister tell you about it," she said, stooping to grab a handful of Gretel's short, thick hair. The girl struggled fiercely, clawing at the witch's hand before being thrown into the cage. The door slammed down loudly, making all the cages rattle.

"Gretel?" asked Hansel, looking with concern upon his twin.

But she ignored him for the moment, clamoring to her feet to grasp and shake the bars of her cage. "Ya evil fuckin' bitch! I'm gonna kill ya!" she shrieked.

Meg only laughed, stepping from the room. The door swept closed behind her. Gretel shook the bars of her cage, screaming incoherently for a moment or so, then shoved herself back, falling to the floor of her cage.

Hansel was quiet for several beats of his anxious heart, watching Gretel as she curled her legs up and hugged them. She glared out at nothing in particular, chin rest upon her reddened knees, rocking back and forth.

"What happened?" Hansel asked at last.

Gretel's temples bulged as she ground her teeth. "Nothin'."

Hansel sighed. "Ya can't tell me that," he said. "I can tell when ya—"

"I said, nothin'!" yelled Gretel, her violet eyes vivid with misdirected anger. She resumed her rocking.

Hansel slumped, sitting down in his cage, reaching through the bars for his sister. "We're gonna get outta here," he said.

Gretel rocked in silence, eyes darting to her twin's hand. Finally, her eyes grew moist, then began dripping anew. She grabbed Hansel's hand and pulled herself as close to him as the cage walls would allow. The tears poured freely, drenching her cheeks, dripping down to her body.

"One way or 'nother, we gonna get outta here," Hansel vowed, slipping his arm around his sister's shoulders, beneath her chin. Gretel clutched at him tightly, sobbing.

"We better," she whispered between blubbery sniffles. "We better . . . ."

***

The sound of the door opening roused the twins from sleep. Following more tears, Gretel had shared with her brother what had happened with the sheriff. Hansel's first reaction had been rage, but he forced himself to be calm for his sister's sake. They had spoken throughout most of the night, about everything from their current predicament to life back in Brimstone. Eventually, fatigue had claimed them, and they fell asleep in their cages, curled up upon their sides and facing on another through the bars that separated them.

Meg -- in her 'pretty' guise -- carried a laden tray into the room, setting it down before the cages. Hansel and Gretel warily sat up, turning to face their captor.

"When ya gonna let us go?" Hansel asked the witch.

Meg smiled radiantly, settling into a lotus position on the floor. "Once I get what I want," she said, meeting Hansel's gaze meaningfully.

Gretel frowned as Hansel looked away. "What ya want with him? He ain't done nothin'!"

Meg showed teeth as she grinned. "And that's exactly why I want him," she said.

Gretel frowned. "That don't make no sense."

"No, I suppose it doesn't, to simpletons like you. But then, you don't know anything about witches," Meg said. "You see, witches can live for a very long time. But to do so, we have to complete certain rituals and potions. Some are very complicated."

"So what's that have'ta do with me?" asked Hansel.

"Simple," responded Meg, licking her lips lecherously. "I want you to make love to me."

Hansel balked, nearly retching, recalling the images of Meg in her hideousness. "No way! You're a monster!"

Meg's face darkened malevolently. "I never said you had a choice, boy," she glowered. "Now, eat up. I don't want a single crumb left on those plates." Abruptly shoving herself to her feet, the witch left the room. Hansel and Gretel both shuddered as the door slammed shut behind her.

"What we gonna do, Greta?" asked Hansel worriedly. "I don't wanna make it for th' first time with that nasty old hag!"

Gretel's eyes shone with sympathy. "I know, Han. But let's at least eat. Maybe we can figure somethin' out."

The twins dragged the tray closer, each taking up a plate loaded with eggs, grits, hashed browns and biscuits. They had to hold them outside of the cage and feed themselves through the bars.

"Ugh! How'm I sposed'ta eat after what that witch just said? Just th' thought o' her naked . . . ump!"

***

Meg returned nearly an hour later, smiling with all the grace and charm of a doting parent upon seeing the empty plates and glasses. She held a small red vial in her hands, cradling it reverently as if it were the Holy Grail. A casual arcane gesture sent the tray with its empty plates sliding across the room, startling the twins.

"I have something for you, Hansel," she said with a soft, sultry voice. "But first, you need to get out of those clothes."

Hansel paled. Oh, sweet Jesus . . . she wants t' do it now? In front'a Greta? His eyes darted back and forth between the witch and his sister. Gretel stared back, wide-eyed and equally appalled.

Meg laughed. "No, not yet, sweetie," she said, as if reading Hansel's mind. "You may look sweet, but you sure don't smell like it."

Hansel blushed deeply in embarrassment, casting his eyes down. Not that he wanted the witch's favor, but he certainly felt her disapproval.

"Come on, my little man," Meg continued, her voice tinged with a patronizing tone. "Get those clothes off, and I'll let you out so you can take a nice, long shower. Come on, now."

Hansel hesitated, glancing to his sister. Despite the fact that Gretel was fully nude, Hansel was reluctant. Still, he pulled of his shirt, then his dirty old shoes and socks, peeling them off his skin. The aromas released nearly made his eyes water. Gretel gagged.

"I can smell you from here," muttered Meg with dislike. "Go on, take it all off."

Ashamed, Hansel nevertheless complied, shoving his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Keeping his eyes on the dirty wooden floor of his cage, he stood, naked and degraded, for the witch's assessment.

"Hmm," muttered Meg, letting her eyes wander down the slender man's form, pausing to inspect his tumescent penis. "I see potential . . . ."

Hansel fidgeted, red-faced, peripherally noting the eyes of his sister upon him. She, too, looked where the witch's attention was focused. In self-admonishment, she turned away, chewing her lower lip.

"Well, let's get you cleaned up," announced Meg. "Then we'll begin."

***

Gretel was anxious when her brother returned, walking naked before the tall, stately Meg, his head bowed and eyes following the lines of the floor. She could not help but admire how admiringly her slightly-younger brother had filled out. A lifetime of hard chores and typical playtime had toned him well; his abdomen was flat and firm, his waist narrow, legs and arms naturally rippling with casual strength. If nothing else, Gretel could admire her brother as a handsome man.

The witch returned him to his cell, and Hansel turned to face her through the bars once the door clanged shut. His clothes were gone, removed to the same bin, Gretel was certain, in which her own now lay.

"Drink this," the witch ordered, holding out the ruby-colored flask.

Gingerly, Hansel took the vial, pulled the stopper, sniffed. His features contorted in recoil at the foul smell. "What is it?"

Meg glared. "You don't want to know," she said. "Just drink it. All of it. Now."

Hansel sought his sister's encouragement with his eyes; reluctantly, she gave it. Neither of them knew what would happen if Hansel drank the strange brew, but they intrinsically understood what would happen if he did not.

Begrudgingly, Hansel tilted the mouth of the vial against his lips, pouring a thick, syrupy concoction into his mouth that possessed the consistency of oil and the flavor of rancid meat and rotten vegetables. He gagged and choked, struggling to get it all down. Once the potion was swirling in his stomach, he heaved dryly a few times, feeling acid burn into his throat. Yet he managed to keep the retched swill down.

Meg grinned. "Good boy," she chided, then gestured. Gretel's cage shook as the door lifted upward. "Come on out," the witch said to the girl.

Apprehensively, wondering what Meg had in mind, Gretel crawled out, settling into a crouch upon the cool tiled floor.

"Get on your knees before your brother," Meg instructed. "I'll let you do the honors."

Gretel frowned. "What'ya mean?"

Meg glared darkly, her eyes flashing crimson. "Do as I say!"

Gretel flinched, then did as she had been directed, settling onto her knees and facing Hansel through the bars. For a moment, her eyes rest upon her brother's flaccid penis, but she quickly lifted them to his face, offering encouragement and hope.  

Meg lowered herself beside the young woman, all but pressing herself against Gretel. "Now . . . watch."

Gretel began to question what it was she was supposed to see, but her words were stifled as Hansel moaned, eyes closing as if drunken. He swayed upon his feet, and gripped the bars before him to maintain his footing. His muscles tensed, and hips were thrust out. The soft length of flesh hanging between his thighs began to stiffen rapidly, angling outward, swiftly growing to full length within a matter of heartbeats.

Gretel caught her breath as she gazed upon Hansel's erect cock. The entire shaft, and especially the head, glowed with the blood that filled it. Glistening moisture seeped from the tip, dribbling down the length of the staff or dripping to the floor. Hansel's expression was one of detached arousal.

"Now, Gretel," whispered Meg. "Wrap your hands around it. Stroke it. It won't take long."

Gretel shuddered, a mixture of revulsion, fascination, and arousal swirling in her mind. She barely registered the feel of Meg's hands cupping her breasts, running up and down her abdomen as she reached through the bars of Hansel's cage and took hold of her own brother's throbbing cock. Driven by fear of the consequences should she disobey the witch, and by fascination for the moment, she began tugging on Hansel's tense phallus.

"That's it," whispered Meg in the girl's ear, squeezing Gretel's firm breasts, lightly pinching her nipples. "He'll cum quickly. Catch it all in your hands."

Gretel felt detached, like an automaton, masturbating her brother. Hansel seemed oblivious, his eyes closed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Now and then he thrust out toward his sister, and would grunt when he did so. Gretel pumped faster and firmer, her fingers becoming slick with the oily effusion which seeped from the slit of Hansel's penis.

Finally, Hansel gasped and groaned loudly, his body jerking and face contorting. From deep within, thick, milky fluid surged forth, flowing and occasionally spurting, filling the fleshy cup Gretel made of her left hand. The warm pool of semen overflowed her hand, a little of itdripping down along her wrist and to the floor below. Gretel tugged to get it all out, enthralled at the sight.

"Quickly, in the jar," urged Meg, holding up a small, wide-mouthed brown jar that looked to have once been the home of some kind of jam or marmalade. Dutifully, Gretel withdrew her hand and tilted it, pouring the cloudy, thick fluid into the jar. Meg helped, scraping a long, blue-nailed finger down Gretel's palm, smearing it a bit in Hansel's sperm.

Casually, the witch sucked her finger clean, and held up the jar. She made a gesture, staring at the contents within. After a few moments, a clouded, disappointed expression colored her face. "Not enough," she said.

Gretel felt a wave of panic. "What'ya mean?"

Meg sighed as she stood. "It means this will take a little longer than I thought. Get back in your cage, girl."

"No!" cried Gretel, shooting to her feet. Her eyes blazed with youthful, unrestrained rage. "I wanna know -- ah!" She cried out as she was thrown backward by an invisible hand, deposited rudely in her cage. The door slammed shut.

"You'll know what I want you to know," snarled Meg before she left.

Gretel stared after, naked breasts rising and falling. But her anger was mitigated as she looked to Hansel, slumped in the cage beside hers. He seemed drained; his eyes were heavy, mouth slack.

"Han? Ya 'kay?"

Slowly, he nodded. "Uh-huh . . . ." Then he pitched to his side and promptly passed out.

***

Later that day, then again that evening, Meg returned with more of the bile-inducing potion for Hansel to consume. As before, the concoction resulted in a rapid erection yet less and less fogging of Hansel's mind. And as before, the witch directed Greta to masturbate her brother to orgasm. The third time, however, was a bit different. Hansel stood up against the bars, thrusting his pelvis out so that his arcanely engorged cock protruded through the bars. That made it easier for Gretel to stroke his stiff length, but it also gave Meg a perverse idea.

"Put it in your mouth, Gretel," the witch seethed through clenched teeth, pushing on the back of the girl's head. "Suck it out of him."

Gretel gasped with revulsion. "But, he's my brother -- mmph!"

Meg grinned, forcing the dark-haired girl's mouth down upon Hansel's stiffness. Heat spread through the witch as one twin's lips wrapped around the other's cock. "Don't tell me you've never thought about it," she whispered coarsely. "Don't tell me you've never wanted it. If I'd had a twin . . . I'd never have left the bedroom."

Gretel murmured, such sounds muffled by the stiff length of flesh sliding back and forth in her mouth. The fact that it was her own brother she was sucking off both perturbed . . . and excited her. She hated to admit that the witch was right; now and then, in fact, Gretel had entertained speculative thoughts of what it would be like to bed her own brother.

"Good girl," encouraged Meg as Gretel's head bobbed back and forth. She toyed with the girl's stiff nipples, even delved her fingers between Gretel's taut thighs to feel the pool of wetness between. "Make him cum in your mouth . . . but don't swallow . . . ."

Gretel moaned, but only partly from disgust or discomfort. She looked up at Hansel's face, saw him staring back with stupefied eyes. He could have pulled back, Gretel knew. There was no witch behind him keeping him in place. But he did not. In fact, he seemed to try to push forward even more, making the bars of the cage dig into his lower abdomen and upper thighs. It was obvious to his sister that Hansel relished the sensations she gave him. That fact, for some reason, inspired Gretel.

She's suckin' my cock! Hansel thought, watching Gretel's slick lips as they delved down again and again along his quivering shaft. He was suddenly grateful for the fact that the potion no longer clouded his mind. I can't believe how good it feels! My own sister is . . . is . . . Oh, God—

Before he knew it, before he could warn her, Hansel was ejaculating, pouring his seed into Gretel's mouth. The warm fluid gushing to the back of her throat made her gag momentarily, but she managed to keep her composure. Though reflex almost sent the bittersweet liquid down to her stomach, she was heedful of the Witch's command of not swallowing. Yet there seemed to be almost too much; it threatened to overflow the seal of her lips.

Hansel trembled in bliss, enjoying the perverse pleasure he now felt to the utmost. The fact that Gretel's gaze never wavered from his only intensified his orgasm. He had never imagined how beautiful and erotic his own sister could be, how completely satisfying it would be to spend his passion between her lips.

"Yes," hissed Meg with approval. She petted the back of Gretel's head as if the girl were an obedient pet. "Make sure you get it all. Squeeze it with your hands . . . yes, that's it. Good girl, Greta."

Gretel blinked a few times, smelling nothing but the piquant aroma of Hansel's cum. She slipped her lips from her twin's penis, leaving it glistening as it slowly softened. Meg's hand holding another small, dark jar appeared before her, silently commanding her to discharge the contents of her mouth. For a moment, Gretel considered swallowing her brother's fluid, just to confound the witch. But there was no telling how the witch would respond.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 03



Snow White and Rose Red

Once upon a time, in a beautiful Rose garden...

Rose sat back on her heels and looked over the acre and a half that was hers alone. It was a garden full of her namesake. The roses were in bloom and the fragrance that filled the air was sweet and heady. Many of these roses were her own hybrid variations that she had slaved over for the last several years. Her newest, Moonlight Kiss was a purple so deep it was almost black at the base and lightened slightly at the tip of each petal. Its color was a happy accident; she had been trying for the fragrance first. She buried her nose in its open petals: absolute perfection.

Camera in hand she backed up and began setting up the shot. It was the perfect time of day for photographing this section of roses. Hopefully this new rose could be in next year's catalog. She continued to shoot down the row until the sun had risen too high. Hot, sweaty and feeling a bit wilted she headed back up the field to the house that overlooked the garden. She took her basket with freshly cut flowers with her and detoured through her mother's cutting garden for a few others.

She had always loved the house. It was a big old fashioned farmhouse with high ceilings and a wrap around porch about ten feet deep. Flower beds with every variety imaginable surrounded the house. They had a mowed yard but not nearly as much as most houses in the area. Flowers of every variety surrounded the house growing over trellises, arbors and spilling out of containers of every variety. Their farm, Dahlquist Flowers, lived up to its name. For three seasons of the year they had pretty much non-stop blooms.

The interior of the house was much cooler than the exterior. It wasn't hot enough yet for the air conditioning to be turned on. "Ha ha," Rose thought, her mother had left fresh lemonade in the fridge and she poured herself a tall glass.

"Hey Rose, did you get those shots in?" asked Snow, plopping herself down at the table. She was still dressed in her work clothes, she worked part time at an accounting firm in town, when she wasn't keeping the farm in the black.

"Yup," she replied after a long drink, grinning at her twin. "I'll play with them later today and pick the best shots." Her slim, dirty fingers recut the stems of her flowers under the running tap. She popped them into the waiting vase.

"Good," said Snow, leaning to reach the counter, helping herself to a sip of her sister's lemonade. "Jerry Miller is coming on Friday to discuss the layouts for the catalog. We still have to pick out the cover picture," said Snow.

"Just remember that we won't have very many for the first two years or so", said Rose. "Hopefully my cuttings will over-winter better this year than last. I still can't believe that we lost so many."

"Yeah," replied Snow. She truly looked like her nickname today. Her raven black hair was cut into a bob at her chin and her creamy skin looked like it had never seen the sun.

Rose just sighed to herself. She wished for not the first time that she looked anything like her gorgeous sister. She was a full five inches taller, with brown hair and eyes, and freckles that multiplied with every bit of sun they encountered.

"We need to ask our new neighbor if the skanky real estate developer has hit him up yet."

Rose snorted, "Although he is acting like quite a recluse. I would be surprised it the slimy land baron has had any better luck finding him than the rest of us."

"True enough," said Snow. "I know that you and mom promised Gwen that you would 'look after him', but this is getting ridiculous. The man has gone out of his way to let us know that he doesn't want to be bothered. He even has his groceries delivered for Christ's sake."

That had been true enough. Rose often wondered about their new neighbor. Gwen had told them quite a bit before her unexpected death of a heart attack six months ago. His name was Daniel Stevens and he had been a Marine that had been badly hurt in combat. Gwen had invited him to stay with her when he was released from the hospital. He was a favorite great nephew, and one of the few of her many relatives that had kept in constant touch over the years. 

Rose grimaced at the thought of the rest of Gwen's relatives. She had had five children, and about a million grandchildren, all living within several hours. And yet the only time Gwen had seen or heard from them was when they needed something, generally money. 

A grin crossed her face. Gwen had surprised them all when her will was read and Daniel had inherited it all. Gwen had left her relatives a litany of reasons that Daniel had inherited and they had not. They had been furious, threatening to contest the will. Gwen had foreseen this however and her lawyer had carefully made sure that there was absolutely no way they could contest. 

And so Daniel Stevens had inherited eighty acres, a beautiful house, car and an undisclosed amount of money. The only other person to inherit anything had been her mother, Lily Dahlquist. She and Gwen had been friends since she had moved in with Snow and Rose twenty years ago. Gwen had been surrogate mother and grandmother to the struggling family and remained close throughout the years. Gwen had left Lily an odd section of 10 acres that was on the boarder of their two properties. It was an incredible grove of peeling birch trees and meadows full of wild flowers. As a child, Rose had been convinced that fairies lived there. She had spent an inordinate amount of time in that area just looking for them, or just dreaming in general.

Daniel had moved in about three months ago. Only the lawyer had actually met with him. No one else had so much as seen him. She had gone over to the house twice. Both times she had phoned first to let him know she was coming over, she didn't want to be rude. The first timed had been to prune Gwen's roses in early spring, the second to check on them and make sure they were being watered.

Rose set the roses on the table and sat down after refilling her lemonade glass.

"Anyway," Snow continued, "Jerry, the catalog guy is going to be here Friday and I need those pictures."

"I'll have them tonight," said Rose, a little irritated that Snow felt it necessary to repeat herself.

"Oh, he was asking about you, too," she smiled.

"Who, Jerry?" Rose sighed, "I am not interested in going out with Jerry Miller."

"Why not!?" said an exasperated Snow. "He's nice looking, has a good job, nice personality; what's not to be interested in?"

"Because he is more interested in you that's why. The man can't keep his eyes off of you. No thank you."

"He is not. You're just too damn picky, if you ask me," said Snow. "You are the only twenty three year old virgin that I know."

"And you know what," replied Rose, "there is nothing wrong with that! So back off!"

Rose stomped back out of the door, ignoring her sister's protests behind her. She was so sick of her sister trying to foist off men on her. One thing she hadn't mentioned was the fact that she didn't want to date Jerry because Snow had already slept with him, shortly after meeting him. She truly loved her sister, but she was very tired of her going through men like they were flavors of ice cream. She only wanted one, THE one, and she was perfectly willing to wait for him.

She climbed into her pick-up truck and slammed the door behind her. She drove with no particular destination in mind, but wasn't surprised that she ended up at Gwen Stevenson's house. She had adored Gwen and treated her like a long lost grandmother from the time she was old enough to walk. Gwen's house was similar to theirs, if just a bit smaller.

There was an unfamiliar car in the drive and the newer Jeep that Gwen had driven was gone. Maybe he had a visitor, family maybe? Oh, well. She walked up the stairs of the wrap around porch and knocked on the door. No answer. From inside she heard a thump and a crash. 

"Daniel?" she shouted, "Are you ok?"

There was no answer and worried she grabbed the spare key from its hidey hole and opened the door.

"Daniel?" Nothing in the house had changed much; the foyer was the same as it always was. It was a bit disconcerting; she expected to hear Gwen say her name any minute. Immediately to her right, through an arched doorway was her office/study/library. It looked like a tornado had hit it. There were papers everywhere, the drawers had been ripped from the desk and several shelves of Gwen's considerable library were scattered around the room.

"Holy Shit," she whispered. She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and flipped it open, intending to call the police. She never got that far though. Hearing a noise behind her she half turned and was tackled to the floor, knocking the wind out of her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an arm raised to strike her; and everything went black.

@@@@@

Daniel turned into the drive, glad to be home after a long day. Home had a great sound to it. For so long his only home was where the military had shipped him. It was nice to have his own place. He smiled at the memory of Gwen, going on and on in her letters about what plants she was planting and how well they were blooming. Occasionally a dried, pressed flower would be sent tucked in between the pages of her letters, scenting the pages with the faint scent of roses.

Pulling into the drive he noticed the beat up pickup truck parked in the drive. He recognized it; it belonged to that neighbor girl. He also noticed that the front door was wide open.

His lips compressed into a thin line. Being neighborly was one thing; going into his house when he wasn't there was another. Bristling with irritation he pulled his six foot four frame out of his almost new truck, and pulled his cane out after him. He had lost his left leg above the knee over a year ago and his prosthetic had taken some getting used to. Sitting in the truck for the hour drive home had stiffened him up. He was sore everywhere, his physical therapist had really worked him today.

Limping in through the open door his eyes took a minute to adjust from the bright sunshine outdoors to the quiet dusk of the house. Stepping forward he surveyed what he could see of the house. Nothing looked out of order in the foyer and he couldn't hear anything but the quiet of the house.

Another few steps in and he caught sight of a body sprawled across the floor, surrounded by the remains of a shattered crystal vase. His eyes scanned the room as he felt for a pulse. There was no one else in the room, the windows were unbroken. Maybe they had left through the front door after they had bashed his neighbor?

Her pulse was strong and her breathing steady. Brushing the broken glass off of her he lifted her carefully and crossed the three steps to the couch. She was lighter than he thought she would be and she was definitely the girl that had come over several times to look after Gwen's roses. If the few glimpses he had had of her had not been enough, Gwen had pictures of the Dahlquist family pretty much everywhere, from grade school to high school and beyond.

She was pretty, with curly brown hair held back in a simple pony, straight nose, curvy lips and freckles. It didn't look like she was wearing any make up and her lashes were long, curving gently on her cheeks. She smelled good, like sunshine, grass, and woman. He groaned quietly to himself. He had the sudden urge to lick along that sweet jawbone to her ear and nibble on the lobe. He mentally slapped himself upside the head. It had been far too long since he had had sex. That had been with his now ex-wife and seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Rose, if that was the right name, had that 'girl next door' prettiness, absolutely nothing like his ex-wife, who could easily take over an hour 'getting herself together'. This girl looked about as naturally pretty as it was possible to be. He could also see the goose egg on the side of her head, just above the ear. He concentrated on adjusting her comfortably on the sofa. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer as he pulled out his cell phone and called the police.

It was pretty obvious that she had interrupted someone tossing the office and gotten bashed for her trouble. Hopefully she could identify whoever it was.

While he was talking on the phone he didn't notice her eyes open and close several times.

@@@@

Rose woke up slowly, with her head pounding. The light hurt her eyes. She could hear a soft baritone voice talking and she listened to the soft cadence without understanding more than a few words here and there. The voice stopped and she opened her eyes again. 

"Hey there," said the man, hovering over her. "Are you with me?" 

"What?" she replied, her head pounding with the rhythm of her heartbeat. "God my head hurts."

"I'm not surprised with the size of that goose egg above your ear," came the deep and calm voice. There was a hint of laughter in the voice and gentle fingers smoothed a strand of hair out of her face.

Rose closed her eyes again and when she came to her eyelids were pried open and a bright, piercing light was shone into them. She shouted something illegible and she lashed out hard with her arms.

"Rose dear," it was her mother's voice, "calm down. The paramedic was just checking for a concussion."

"What was his first clue? The fact that I was out of it or the lump on my head?" she rasped out. "Keep the damn light out of my eyes, it fricking hurts."

"I just need to check your pupils," replied a calm voice.

Rose put her hand up to her head, partially shielding her eyes. "You shine that light in my eyes and I will castrate you with my fingernails."

"Rose!"

A rumble of laughter in that deep baritone warmed her ears. "At least her wits appear to be intact," it laughed.

Very carefully Rose was helped to sit up. She recognized where she was now, Gwen's house, the study to be more specific.

"What the hell happened?"

"You don't remember?" A very handsome, very scarred face came into view as a huge bear of a man sat on the couch next to her. The left side of his face was laced with thin scars, one of which crossed his bottom lip. There was a nasty scar that looked like a burn scar that crossed his left eyebrow and continued up into his hairline. The most arresting feature however was a pair of pale green eyes looking out at her from a small collection of laugh lines. 

Rose cocked her head slightly, trying to place him. "Daniel?" she finally asked.

"Pleased to meet you," he smiled at her. 

"Pleased my ass," she replied, her thoughts going directly to her mouth without benefit of filtering through her brain. "You don't return phone calls for three months? Gwen wanted us to look in on you from time to time. You made that a little hard to do."

"I've been busy," he replied with a wry smile.

"Yeah, well you have missed out on three months of mom's cooking. And that is a tragedy," she replied, trying to take the sting out of her previous comment. What the hell was wrong with her, the shy girl was cussing people out and berating a man twice her size. She would have shaken her head at herself if it didn't hurt so much.

He chuckled, a deep, throaty chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her mother laughed as well. "I think we can remedy that easily enough."

"It is too bad that I couldn't have shown up until after you," she told Daniel, "I could have been the one calling the cops after you beat the shit out of your robber."

Daniel chuckled again and smiled at her with a lopsided grin that made her heart skip a beat. He had carried her out to the car and she had felt like a child in the big man's arms. He had limped badly but there was never a moment that she didn't feel safe. She was used to being the tall one and he made her feel positively little. He smelled like soap and aftershave and she liked the feeling of his arms around her. In her opinion it was far too short a trip to the car.

A quick trip to the hospital with her mother showed that it was just a concussion. Her mother got instructions to wake her regularly through the night and have a follow up visit with her doctor in the next couple of days. It was almost suppertime when they got back to the house. Exhausted, with her head aching Rose crawled into bed. Just the thought of supper made her nauseous. She was glad that Snow hadn't been home when they got there. She really didn't want to rehash everything at the moment. She drifted off to the memory of being carried in Daniel's arms.

@@@@

Two days later...

Rose had just finished the pictures for Snow when there was a light tap on the office door.

"Come in," she called absently as she printed out a copy of her favorite and saved it and several others to disk.

"Pretty," came a deep voice from behind her.

Rose jumped. She had been expecting her mother. "Hi Daniel," she smiled up at him. He was just as big as she remembered. He looked good in worn blue jeans and a sage t-shirt that brought out the green in his eyes. He was also a bit on the hairy side but the hair on his arms and the v of his tee shirt was very blonde and looked silky soft. He was using a cane today she noticed.

"You look like you are feeling a bit better," Daniel said with a grin. She did too. She wasn't the type of girl that he had usually been attracted to. She wore no make-up and a casual shirt and shorts that showed an athletic figure. Even without all of the 'accessories' she managed to look beautiful.

"Yeah, amazing what sleeping for two days and a lot of Tylenol will do for you," she replied. "Did you ever find out what our mystery break in man was after?" she asked.

Daniel sat down in the neighboring chair and she swiveled her desk chair to face him.

"No," he said shaking his head, "Nothing was missing. Most of the documents and stuff were Aunt Gwen's anyway. Most of my stuff is still being stored in the garage. What is left of it anyway."

His eyes had darkened with that remark, and his lips had quirked downward into a frown.

Rose arched an eyebrow at him, her expression curious.

"Just how much did Aunt Gwen tell you guys about me anyway?"

Rose grinned at him, her honey brown eyes sparkling. "Pretty much everything," she told him, laughing at his expression. "We were updated on pretty much everything that you did. She was really proud of you, you know. She was over the moon when you said that you would come and stay with her."

"I was looking forward to it," he confessed. "With all the shit that was going down, visiting Gwen sounded like heaven. I hadn't been here for over ten years."

Rose looked at him curiously.

"Divorce," he replied to her unspoken question. "A very nasty divorce."

"Oh," said Rose, "I'm sorry. Gwen never mentioned that you were divorcing." 

Daniel leaned back, stretching out his legs a bit. "I didn't tell her about it, I didn't want to worry her. Believe me it was a surprise for me at the time. Diane couldn't handle it when I was injured. My face looked like so much ground up hamburger at the time. They thought they could save my leg for a while but the infection just got too bad." He shrugged. "She showed her selfish side and tried to take me for everything. Unfortunately for her she made more money than I did, so the judge was pretty fair."

"She divorced you while you were in the hospital?" asked Rose, rather disbelieving. The very thought of Daniel being abandoned and alone while so obviously in need upset her.

"Don't look so worried, little one," Daniel said. "It turned out for the best. The divorce was final right before Aunt Gwen died." He laughed, "The ex was pretty pissed that she missed out on a piece of a pretty sizable inheritance."

"I can't believe she would leave you while you were in the hospital," Rose said, still shaking her head.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 03



Daniel shrugged. "Your mom was telling me about some guy trying to pressure people into selling their land. Can you tell me a bit more about it? Lily said you were the one to ask."

Rose noticed the topic change and mentally shrugged. "His name is Maxwell Taylor. Supposedly he is buying up property around town." She swung her chair around a little bit and propped her feet up.

"Summerville is pretty much a bedroom community for Mitchell. Gwen's ninety acres and our hundred and thirty are right off the main road and positioned in a really nice area. I think that he has visions of sub-divisions running through his head. A lot of people commute the 35 miles or so."

"Yeah," interjected Daniel, "I go back and forth for physical therapy a couple of days a week. Plus the shopping is cheaper."

Rose nodded. "He was really pushy with Gwen and she ended up telling him to get lost. Then he tangled with mom and ended up in a shouting match with her on the front lawn. According to rumor he is putting pressure on a lot of people to sell. He is reputed to have some pretty underhanded methods too, but no one has pressed charges or anything so it is hard to know for sure."

"Hmm," said Daniel, his green eyes thoughtful, "I'm not selling but it is good to know who is crawling around."

"Are you planning on staying then?" Rose asked curiously. 

"Yeah, I think so," Daniel replied. "I have medical discharge from the Marines and Gwen left me sitting fairly well. I may get into the dog training and breeding business. I have always wanted to and this is the perfect opportunity."

Rose didn't miss the sparkle in his eye or the excitement on his face as he talked about his plans. She was very aware of his rather overpowering masculinity and found herself watching his lips as he spoke. He had perfect lips, curvy and not to thin, she wondered if his kisses would be soft and gentle or demanding, or both.

"What kind of dogs?" she asked, rather distracted by her thoughts running rampant.

"I don't know yet," he replied. "We had a lot of canine units that we worked with, bomb sniffers and such. Labradors, Sheperds, they were all pretty incredible. I would have to do some research before I chose a breed."

He cocked his head, "What are you smiling about?"

Rose laughed. "I suddenly had this picture in my head of you surrounded by puppies and getting swarmed."

Daniel laughed, a deep belly laugh that sent shivers down her spine.

"Rose?" Snow's voice sounded and she pushed through the half open door. "Did you have those pictures ready for me?" She caught sight of Daniel sitting casually on the loveseat, and her eyes widened in appreciation.

"Daniel this is my sister, Snow," Rose said her heart sinking. Snow looked gorgeous and polished in her casual business suit. Rose suddenly felt completely underdressed in her shorts and tee.

"Nice to meet you. Your mother mentioned that she had two daughters," Daniel rose and shook Snow's hand. 

"Nice to meet you too Daniel," replied Snow, smiling broadly. Rose could see that Snow was 'turning on the charm' as her mother liked to call it. "I hope that we will see you around here more often. Gwen told us so much about you." 

In Rose's opinion Daniel's scars only seemed to accent his masculinity and did not deter from his attractiveness one bit. From the flirting that Snow was doing she seemed to share Rose's opinion.

"Did you have those shots for me Rose?" She asked, shifting her attention. "Mr. Miller is here and I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Yup," Rose replied, handing the printed copies as well as the copied disk to her sister. She noticed that Jerry had become Mr. Miller. Just to like Snow to put distance between her and Jerry to accent the fact that they were not involved.

"Thanks Rose. Nice meeting you Daniel."

"Nice to meet you too Snow," he replied. He shifted his attention to Rose. "I should get going," he said. "I have been talking your ear off."

"Not at all," said Rose, surprised at his remark, "I may have to put dibs on a puppy once you start breeding." She rose and began walking with him. "Our Labrador passed away about three years ago and mom just didn't have the heart to get another dog. Jazz was practically a sibling."

"Labs are definitely on the short list," Daniel said as they walked to the front door.

"You would probably find a good market for them too," said Rose. "This is pretty good hunting territory and Labs are pretty popular."

"See you later," said Daniel smiling down at her.

Rose smiled back at him. She loved the fact that she came up to about his chin. "Don't be a stranger Daniel. Stop by anytime, you have a standing invite for supper. Mom really is a killer cook."

Rose watched his broad shouldered form limp out to his truck. He waved as he turned out into the main road and Rose gave a sigh before heading back into the house. Maybe she should have her mother call and invite him to dinner.

@@@@

Daniel took the opportunity presented by the disaster in the study to go through much of Gwen's files and desk, shredding the things that were so much clutter and filing away the few of any importance. He also unpacked several of the boxes full of his own office things and books.

Quite a bit of the knick-knack clutter was packed away in the then empty boxes. He had loved Aunt Gwen dearly but practically every square inch of space in her house was covered in small breakables that drove him nuts. The ones covering the kitchen counters had already been removed. He loved to cook and Gwen's kitchen was pretty well stocked with good utensils.

As he went through the office he could not keep his mind off of Rose. He was finding himself very attracted to her, to the point of some rather indecent fantasies. He had been out of the dating game for quite a while. While some of his buddies had not had any problem finding partners away from their wives, he had preferred to stay faithful to his wife. They had dated for two years before they had gotten married. And the marriage had lasted for four. He had found out from some of his non military friends that Diane had not been as faithful to him as he had been to her. That had stung.

Was he really ready to start another relationship? He didn't think that Rose was into casual sex, although Snow was another story. He chuckled to himself as he recalled some of her rather blatant flirting. Her polished sophistication reminded him rather strongly of his ex, and he was not going to go there. Rose was rather like a breath of fresh air. She was open and honest and beautiful in a very real and ordinary way. She was also easy to talk to and seemed to take a genuine interest in him and his plans for the future.

He had had dinner over at the Dahlquist house two days after he had stopped by. Rose had been right, Lily was a killer cook and he had enjoyed it. He had been talked into a game of one on one basketball with Rose while they were waiting for dinner and that was probably his favorite part of the evening. She was fast and didn't cut him any slack, even with his prosthetic showing plainly from his long shorts. He had beaten her to the ten points but she had made him work for it. That had been great, being treated like a normal person rather than a cripple that you should feel sorry for.

For not the first time he found himself wondering if her skin would taste good. He groaned. He was hard as a rock again and was finding that he was masturbating like he hadn't done since high school, constantly. He began to stroke himself again as he tried to think of an excuse to go and see her tomorrow.

@@@@

Rose woke from a rather pleasant dream of walking hand and hand with Daniel to the smell of smoke. This time of year it was unusual for someone to be burning leaves or anything else, especially at this time of night. Her windows were open wide to catch the breeze and her ceiling fan spun lazily. There was definitely something burning. Rolling out of bed she went to the window and was momentarily stunned. The field with her roses was on fire.

Shrieking for her mother and sister at the top of her lungs she raced down the stairs at breakneck speed. Barefoot she raced out the door to the irrigation controls that were on the side of the first greenhouse. They had installed a drip irrigation system several years ago that covered the acres of her roses. She turned them on full blast, hoping that at least the rootstock could be saved (she didn't graft her roses on to hardier rootstock). Then she grabbed the stack of old blankets that they had to cover plants incase of an early frost and raced down to the rows of roses.

They were blazing and Rose simply threw the blankets over them hoping to smother the flames. She could smell the distinctive smell of gasoline as she continued further down the rows containing her newest hybrids. She was coughing now as the occasional errant breeze blew smoke at her.

As she threw the last blanket she had with her over another rose bush she could hear the sirens of the approaching fire trucks. She ran back up to the house in time to have the trucks pass her on their way down to the field. 

"Rose!" her mother shouted. She ran forward and draped a light blanket over her daughter's shoulders.

"Someone torched them," Rose screamed in anger, "you can smell the gasoline. I'll hunt them down and skin them alive!"

She burst into tears and practically fell into her mothers arms. Years of nurturing had just gone up in flames and Rose felt as if she was watching her children die.

She watched the fire trucks hosing down the field while Snow held her hand on one side and her mother on the other. A pick up truck pulled into the drive and a tousle haired Daniel leapt out.

He started up to where they were sitting on the porch steps. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

Rose was still sobbing not able to speak.

"Someone set fire to the field," Lily answered, her eyes bleak. "Rose said she could smell the gasoline. I don't know how many of them will survive at this point. Who would do such a thing!" her famous calm was slipping and Daniel could see the anguish underneath the calm façade. 

"Is everyone ok?" he asked, sitting a step below them. 

Lily nodded, still cradling Rose in her arms. Snow was on her sisters other side holding on tight to her sisters hand with one hand and stroking her back with the other.

Watching them, Daniel was struck by their closeness. It was like he had always imagined a family should be. Despite the small irritations between the three women that were the normal everyday occurrences, at their core was a strength made up of their love and devotion for each other. At that moment he was struck with a longing to be a part of that family. He wanted to be the one holding Rose in his arms, comforting and being comforted.

The next hour or so was busy. The police were there, taking statements from everyone. The firemen were mopping up the remains of the fire, making sure that everything was out. Lily pulled out cookies and other assorted goodies from the freezer and fed everyone, thanking the firefighters and policemen by name. 

Daniel caught sight of Rose, staring forlornly out of the back kitchen window at the moonlit remains of her roses. He put his arm around her and was pleased that she cuddled up next to him, her hand snaking around his waist and her head tucking in perfectly to the hollow of his shoulder.

He had had a mind melting lust moment earlier when he realized that she was only wearing panties and a shirt that only came down to the tops of her thighs. She had pulled on a pair of jeans but he was still very aware of the fact that she was not wearing a bra. She felt absolutely perfect in his arms, even smelling of smoke. He smiled inwardly at himself. His decision on whether to be involved with Rose was pretty much already made. He had been fooling himself to think otherwise.

Lily and Snow exchanged glances and smiles at the back of the couple. Snow was a little disappointed that Daniel obviously preferred Rose. But at the same time she was glad that Rose apparently had a great guy showing an interest in her, an interest that she returned. She hoped that things would work out for her rather introverted sister. Although if Daniel hurt her she would have to kill him, figuratively speaking of course.

@@@@

After a few hours of restless sleep the household was up with the sun. Lily had called the four part time summer helpers they had along with a lot of friends. By six in the morning the roses were well on their way to being dug up and moved. As much of the soil as possible was gently rinsed off and the plants themselves were pruned back and washed with dishwashing detergent to get as much of the residual gasoline off as possible.

The field to the west of the house was quickly plowed under and Rose was supervising the replanting of her precious roses. By the end of the day every single plant that looked like it had a chance to survive had been moved. The top layer of soil had been scraped up and hauled away in successive truck loads.

Rose had long since collapsed into bed by the time Daniel had finished his phone calls. He went to the spare bedroom that Lily had set up for him and after a quick shower was beyond grateful that he did not have to drive home. The bed was a bit small for his large frame so he slept kitty-corner and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He spent the next week at the Dahlquist farm, leaving only to get clean clothes and keep his physical therapy appointments. He had really enjoyed the physical labor of helping clean up after the arsonist had torched Rose's field. Rose herself had been fun to work with, she enjoyed getting her hands dirty and worked even harder than he did, hauling manure to her transplants, taking cuttings and in general trying to be everywhere and do everything at once. He had never enjoyed a woman's company more, even surrounded by the pungent scent of manure.

Cade, the private detective that he had hired to look into the arson had called twice to update him and it looked like he had a few leads. He was the friend of a friend and that connection had turned out to be a good one. Daniel hadn't told the Dahlquist women about the detective yet, he was hoping to have solid evidence to present to them without them worrying about it.

"Daniel," came a soft voice.

He groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up to his ears.

"Daniel, it is almost noon. Mom left lunch for us. It is time to get up," the voice laughed. The covers were tugged at gently. Daniel had been flirting with her for the last week and a half and she was enjoying teasing him right back.

"Still sleeping," he groused, "leave a message at the tone, beep."

Rose laughed, "out of bed sleepy head," she said in a sing-song bed and gave the covers a harder yank.

The covers gave and she got an eyeful of Daniels gloriously naked body, from shoulders to butt, as she stood there with her hands full of blankets. She was quite unable to move as she took in the broad, muscled back that narrowed to slim hips with perfect buttocks that were several shades lighter than the rest of him. 

Daniel felt the sudden draft and heard the intake of Rose's breath. He waited for several moments and gave a glance over his shoulder. Rose stood there obviously transfixed, her eyes wide and stunned. 

Feeling mischievous Daniel pounced, and in moments had Rose lying on top of his naked body, held securely with his strong arms. The thin sheet was now dangerously low on his hips. 

"Daniel!" she squeaked.

"Well," he drawled, "you took away my covers so I guess you will just have to replace them."

"Daniel," she said again, blushing furiously, squirming as she tried to get away.

He groaned at the feel of her body against him. "Rose honey you need to stop wiggling."

Rose stopped abruptly. She suddenly realized that she could feel his arousal against her. And then Daniel leaned up, his green eyes questioning, and began kissing her; long, slow, deep kisses that she could feel all the way down to her toes. They were both breathless when they parted.

"Wow," Rose whispered. She was lying on top of Daniel, his right leg between hers. She could feel his arousal pressed against her hip, and she blushed.

"You are absolutely gorgeous when you blush," he told her. 

Rose leaned in for another kiss. "Not nearly as gorgeous as you look all mostly naked and tousled," she whispered to him, between soft kisses.

Daniel loved the taste of her and his tongue explored her mouth as his hands stroked her back through the t-shirt she was wearing. He was drowning in her scent and had to hold on tight to his control. From their conversations during the last week he knew that she hadn't dated a whole lot and he wondered how experienced she was. The last thing he wanted was to come on too strong and scare her.

Rose's hands became a bit bolder and she began to stroke the tanned skin that she had been admiring since she had met him. She rolled to his left side a bit so she could have better access. Her fingers began play with his nipple and the wealth of hair on his chest as he gasped against her mouth.

She stopped at his response, wondering if she had done something wrong. His vibrant green eyes opened and met her questioning brown ones. 

"Touch me," he rasped, "please Rose."

She smiled, liking the feel of this big man wanting her. Rose leaned in and began to trail kisses down his throat, nipping and tasting as her fingers stroked the skin of his chest and arm. She had lost track of the times in the last week that she had wanted to reach out and touch him as he worked beside her, to run her fingers through his short hair (that he was threatening to have buzzed). 

Daniel groaned and panted with each feather light touch on his body. His entire body was reacting to her innocent touches and he felt like he was about to go up in flames. 

He pulled her back up for a kiss, tasting her like a starving man would fall on a meal. The kisses picked up speed and he pulled her gently to him, hip to hip, belly to belly. Their hips began to grind against each other. Rose was absolutely lost in the kiss and she pulled Daniel over her so that he body was partially covering hers and his right leg in between hers, his erection hard against her hip. 

Rose wrapped her leg over his hip and began to move against him. Their bodies nudged and flexed against one another in mock intercourse as he devoured her mouth with his own and ran his fingers though her tousled brown hair. He moaned into her mouth as he kissed her. The sound added erotic fuel to the fire and she moved her body with his. Every part of her was on fire with need and she was surrounded with Daniel's scent, his strong, trembling body pressed against hers, his moans as he kissed her, his fingers gentle as they stroked her face and hair. 

"Rose, Rose," he moaned, "we have to stop, I'm so close honey, Rose."

Rose heard him and was suddenly aware of where she was and what she was doing. She didn't want to stop. She didn't want to be the good responsible Rose that she knew so well. Once, just once she wanted to throw caution to the wind and take a chance.

Very deliberately she slid her right hand between their bodies until she could feel his erection through the thin sheet that separated them. She stroked his length, marveling at its heat and firmness. She began to stroke him, pushing her hand down his length and pulling up.

Daniel gasped and moaned at the same time, his entire body reacting to her hands on him. He bucked his hips and threw back his head as he came so hard it felt like his orgasm started from his toes. He cried out with agonized pleasure as he felt each spurt of fluid leave his body. 

Rose continued to stroke him through his orgasm. She was still beyond aroused but felt a strange sense of satisfaction that she could pleasure Daniel to the point where he lost control. She watched his face open mouthed as he was left panting and shaking in aftermath. 




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 03



"Wow," he said as he pulled her close, "my God Rose."

She giggled and buried her face in his shoulder, blushing furiously

"Do you have any idea how incredible you are?" he asked. He kissed her again, long and deep. He couldn't stop tasting her. "I suppose that it is a little late for this but will you date me? Exclusively?"

Rose couldn't stop grinning as she looked up at him. "Oh yeah," she told him. "I should tell you that I am the jealous type."

Daniel cradled her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. "You will never, ever have to worry about that sweetheart," he told her, his eyes serious.

"I know," she replied, "kiss me?"

His lips met hers again and she melted in his arms.

"Mom and Snow won't be back for hours," she whispered to him between heated kisses. She took his hand and slid it down her body until it cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing over the erect nipple through her shirt and bra. 

"Are you sure babe?" Daniel asked. 

"Yes," she told him, looking at him from under her lashes. Her stomach was tight with nervousness but with every touch she was more and more sure that this was right, so right. She let out a shivery moan as his mouth followed his thumb, nipping gently through the fabric, sucking and nuzzling.

Daniel pushed her shirt up, unhooked her front clasp bra and began to explore her breasts. Rose made little incoherent sounds of pleasure as he nibbled and sucked the soft skin of her breast, taunting and teasing her nipples only to lick and caress around them, driving her crazy. His right hand unzipped her shorts and slid his hand inside. He moaned when he found her absolutely soaked. The primitive male inside of him growled with pleasure at the thought that he was the one to make her this wet; so slick and ready for him.

He slid his middle finger in between her folds and began to gently play with her slippery clitoris as he continued to suckle and caress her nipples with his tongue, lips and teeth. 

Rose was gasping now as her senses were assaulted with his gentle attack. She writhed and moaned in need as his fingers slid deeper into her and the heel of his hand began to grind against her clit. He thrust deeper and deeper with his thick fingers, stretching her open, that small pain combining with incredible pleasure to send her over the edge into an incredible climax. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that muffled her cries as she bucked against his hand.

"Daniel," she panted when she could speak again, "I need you, inside me, please."

Daniel's already rock hard cock twitched, and he moaned aloud at the images of Rose with her legs wrapped around him as he slid that aching part of himself deep inside of her.

"I don't have condoms with me Rose," he managed to rasp out, keeping control of himself with only the thinnest of margins. 

"I'm on the pill Dan," she pleaded, "please."

He did know that he was clean. When he had found out that his wife had been cheating the first thing he had done was get tested.

Rose bucked her hips up again, forcing his fingers deeper inside of her. She moaned. "Please Daniel; I've been waiting for you for so long, please."

"Waiting?" he murmured as he helped pull her cloths off.

She smiled rather shyly into his questioning green eyes. "I've never done this before Daniel. I was waiting for the right person."

"God," he groaned. He nudged his dripping cock into her slick entrance. "Mine," he whispered, "all mine, every damn inch of you." He claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue in time with his shallow thrusts into her slick body. 

"Gonna make you come so hard," he promised, as he slid deeper into her body, trying to be careful, desperately wanting to make it good for her, even as his body wanted to lose all control and fuck her until he came.

Rose bucked her hips up, trying to take him deeper. "More," she whimpered, "more, oh God please."

In her to the hilt, belly to belly, her legs spread wide he began to thrust. "Mine, Rose, mine," he chanted, his body on the verge of agonizing pleasure. Her body moved in time with him, her breathless cries urging him on, her hands clawing at his back. 

A thought in the back of his mind pushed forward as he drown himself in her body. He wished she wasn't on the pill. He wished that his naked cock would flood her unprotected body and make her pregnant with his baby. His baby, growing in her belly. He clung to his control until he heard her shriek. He shattered as he climaxed so hard he saw stars, pounding himself into her body mercilessly. He was pouring his seed deep into her body, as it was squeezing and pulsing around him.

He collapsed, exhausted, trying to go off her side so that he wouldn't crush her. For long minutes he just lay there, aftershocks of the strongest orgasm he had ever had in his life still sending thrills of sensation through his body. He could feel himself shrinking and pulling out of her body as he held her close.

"Rose?" he murmured.

"Hmmm," she replied, limp and lazy in the afterglow.

"I don't think I have ever been happier than I am at this moment. I mean it," he said, nuzzling her hair. "I spent six years with my ex and I was never once as happy as I am right now."

Rose snuggled closer to him. She knew that she loved him; she had pretty much since the moment she laid eyes on him. "I feel the same way Daniel,' she told him. She giggled. "I think I should send your ex a thank-you card for being so stupid as to let you go," she said, kissing him softly.

He laughed.

They never did get lunch. 

@@@@

That evening Daniel was putting the finishing touches on the dinner he was cooking for Rose. Ordinarily he would have opened a bottle of wine but the medications he was on currently warned against it. Instead he had cranberry juice in a wine glass, sipping it while he was cooking. The table was already set with Gwen's linen tablecloth and good dishes and the candles were ready to be lit. 

He grinned to himself. The upstairs was ready too, the bed with fresh sheets and the bathroom with fluffy towels; just incase things went in that direction, he told himself.

The phone rang. He answered it and shortly pulled the pan with the tenderloins off the stove while he sat down to listen.

"Are you sure, Cade?" he asked the detective. 

"Absolutely," said the P.I., "the guy was real sloppy, he left evidence all over the place. I have already given my evidence to Sherriff Gibbs. I have your copy."

"I'll swing in tomorrow," Daniel told him. "Thanks for your hard work, I really appreciate it."

"Actually I could..."

"Daniel?" Rose's voice called from the front of the house.

"I'm in the kitchen," he replied, covering the mouthpiece with his hand, raising his voice a little, "you're right on time." He turned around to greet her and froze. 

Standing with his arm around Rose's throat and a gun in his hand, stood a dark haired young man in a disheveled suit. He was only a couple inches taller than Rose which put him at about 6 foot. He looked strong with broad shoulders.

"Where is Snow?" he demanded.

"Jerry please," said Rose softly.

"Shut up," he yelled at her. He turned his eyes back to Daniel, "Where is Snow!" he said again, "I know she is here."

"I am afraid that I don't know what you are talking about," Daniel said slowly. From the wild look in the guy's eyes it was obvious that he wasn't firing on all cylinders. He set the phone down on the counter. It was still on and he was hoping that Cade was hearing this and calling the cops.

"Don't act all innocent with me," Jerry said, practically spitting out the words, "you have been after her from the beginning. You're the reason she won't go out with me again, you and her damn family. Work, work, work that is all she ever has time for; those damn flowers. 'I'm sorry Jerry but I am working at home tonight, I'm sorry Jerry I have to help Rose with the picture layouts," he said in a falsetto. "Well not anymore," he snarled. "Once they and you are out of the picture she will have plenty of time for me. Now start moving!" He gestured to Daniel's left, away from the counter where the knives were kept within easy reach.

"I am dating Rose, not Snow," Daniel said as he moved in the indicated direction.

"Two timing her with her own sister," Jerry spat, his voice full of rage, "what a bastard. Keep your hands up!" he shouted as he followed Daniel through the kitchen.

"Ok, ok," said Daniel as he continued to back up. Jerry's gun was pointed at him but it was wavering quite a bit as he gestured with it. He could see the fear on Rose's face and he longed to reassure her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Cade was in the house. How the hell he had managed to get there so fast? He was quietly creeping up behind Jerry. He must have been in the area.

"Where are we going anyway?" he asked, trying to keep Jerry distracted.

Jerry never got a chance to answer. As Cade swung the butt of his gun like a club, Daniel hit the deck. Jerry dropped like a rock, taking Rose to the floor with him. The gun that he had been waving around did not go off. Daniel had a shocked and startled Rose in his arms two seconds later.

"Are you ok Rose?" he asked trying to hold her and check for injuries at the same time.

"Yeah," she replied, looking a bit dazed.

"Rose this is Cade Munroe," Daniel said. 

Rose was taking in the tall, good looking black man that was frisking an unconscious Jerry.

"He is a private detective from Springfield. I hired him to look into the arson at your place."

"Hi," said Rose. "Aren't you a little far afield for such a quick rescue?" she asked.

Cade grinned at her, flashing a charming dimple in his left cheek. "Actually I was on my way over here when I was on the phone with Dan here. My sister and her husband live in Summerville and had invited me over for a barbeque tonight."

"You aren't single are you?"

Cade looked startled. "Why yes I am, why do you ask?"

"I think my sister needs to start dating better guys," she replied with a smile, "you look like a pretty good candidate." She tilted her head up to look at Daniel, "unless you have any brother's you would like to volunteer?"

Both Cade and Daniel started laughing as the sirens could be heard outside.

One Year Later.....

Daniel Phillip Stevens stood sweating in his full dress uniform despite the air conditioner and ceiling fans that were keeping the room relatively cool. His brother was standing to his left, also in military dress. The church was full to capacity and then some. Many of his friends from the service were here, as were the friends he had made in the last year.

He couldn't believe that he was enjoying living next to his soon to be mother. Part of that was just her kindness, her incredible cooking and a large part was that she always called before she came over. He appreciated that. His parents adored her, as did his brother, Sam. Hell his parents were already planning Christmas with her.

The music started and he was pulled out of his reverie. 

Snow came down the aisle first, wearing a dress of a deep reddish pink silk that suited her fair skin and dark hair to perfection. He barely noticed her. His eyes were riveted on the beauty in white that was next down the aisle, arm and arm with her mother. His heart started pounding in his chest.

Rose carried a bouquet of her favorite roses the same shade as Snow's dress. He didn't notice the details of her dress, just that it showed the golden tan skin with a smattering of freckles that he loved to stroke. In his opinion it showed far too much cleavage; that cleavage was his and he didn't want anyone else getting ideas. He grinned inwardly; Rose hated her freckles but she had shown incredible enthusiasm for his game of 'connect the dots' that he played with his tongue.

He reached out and took her hand in his, his Rose, his from this day forward. Everyday just continued to get better, one after the other. He was hoping that the happiness of this moment would continue and they would get a lifetime of it.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 04



The following story contains explicit situations, and pairings which may offend some readers. Please proceed accordingly.

----

Once upon a time , a young woman stood, talking to herself.

"Crap!" Goldie looked around at the deserted streets. "Today's Sunday. Sunday schedule." She reached into her purse pulled out a wrinkled pamphlet—of course, she had missed the last bus. She dug into her purse again, until she found her cell phone. A cab would get her out of there. Goldie flipped the phone open, and nothing happened: no light, no sound, no Hello Gorgeous to greet her on the screen. "Seriously," she asked to the night around her, "what is this? Universe against Goldie Day?"

Well, that would teach her to explore random little towns on Sundays. Now she was stranded for the night, in a place where she knew no one. Not that anyone was waiting for her at home either. Just her books and her small studio apartment. It wasn't always easy to discern freedom from happiness.

Goldie looked around. Despite the lighted windows, all the shops were closed. On cue, the sky released a downpour upon the girl, drenching her in an instant. "That's just perfect." She rolled her eyes and ran for the cover of one of the shops' awnings. 

As she waited for the rain to subside, Goldie noticed a glowing sign across the street. Curved neon letters spelled out the name of the establishment: Three Bears Pub. Unlike those of the other shops, the lights were off in the tavern. The intermittent glow of the sign bounced off the darkness to reveal what seemed like an apartment above. Goldie squinted until she was able to discern furniture in the window. It was an apartment. Finally, things are looking up , she thought,  if the owners live upstairs, I'll be able to use their phone.

When the rain diminished, Goldie walked up the pub's door. There was a note on it. "Off on our annual vacation. See you soon. Love, BBB."

Goldie stomped her foot. "Give me a break," she said. Don't tell me they aren't here." She walked around the building until she found stairs on the side of the building. Hoping that perhaps the owners had simply forgotten to take down the sign, she took the stairs two at a time. It wouldn't cost her anything to check.

At the top of the stairs, Goldie knocked on the door. "Hello?" she called, "anyone home?"

There was no answer. She leaned against wood to listen for movement inside—and fell right in.

The apartment was dark, and seemingly empty, yet Goldie called out one more time. "Anybody home? I need to use your phone." She thought of turning around and leaving, but the rain had resumed, and she was still soaked from the first wave. Besides, by staying awhile and guarding the place, she would be doing the residents a favor. After all, it was not very safe to leave the door unlocked. Who would it harm if she stayed and warmed up?

***

Goldie did not find a phone in the apartment, so she decided to make herself comfortable while waiting for the rain to subside. First, she needed to get warm. She headed to the bathroom, looking for a towel to dry her hair. As much as she loved the thick, wooly ropes that teased the small of her back, water seemed to take ages to evaporate from the gold and brown mass.

She had intended to simply grab a towel and move on, but when she saw the custom bathtub in the center of the room, she couldn't keep her eyes from it. It was of flawless enamel, supported by curved, gilded legs. Had it not been large enough to fit several adults, it would have passed for an antique. Suddenly, a hot bath seemed like the most heavenly of prospects. Goldie stepped forward and turned on the hot water. She untied the shoulder knots that held up her dress, and watched the wet fabric pool at her feet.

Next to the tub, stood three bottles of bath oil on a small table. 

Goldie picked up the first, uncapped it, and grimaced as she took a whiff. "Too spicy," she said. 

So, she put it down and repeated her actions with the second. "Too sweet." 

Finally, she tried the third bottle and smiled as she smelled mild cocoa. "Just right," she said as she poured the contents into the rising water.

While she waited for her bath to be ready, Goldie grabbed a towel from a shelf and wrapped up her hair. When the water reached an acceptable level, she turned it off and stepped into the tub. It was just what she needed. The warmth seeped into her body, melting away the chill from the rain. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the moment.

***

Clad only in bronze skin and the towel holding her hair, Goldie looked into the fridge. Aside from condiments and three bottles of wine, it was empty. Well, it would be wine for dinner then. She took the three bottles and lined them up on the counter. She looked through the drawers and cupboards until she found a bottle opener and a glass.

She opened the Chardonnay first and took a sip. "Too bitter." She put the bottle down.

So, she opened the White Zinfandel next and tasted it. "Too sweet." She put it down as well.

Finally, she opened a Cabernet Sauvignon and took a sip. "Just right," she said, and she poured herself a full glass.

Goldie took the glass and the bottle to the living room. Now all she needed was a book. Beside a nice steak, a book was the best complement to a good wine. Hopefully, she would find something to her taste. When she saw the bookcase, Goldie fell in love. Before her were rows upon rows of books, encompassing an entire wall. Old tomes, magazines, paperbacks, this was a booklover's dream. This night was turning out much better than she had expected.

***

By the time Goldie had browsed through two thirds of the book collection, the wine was gone, and Goldie felt a bit dizzy. She took the bottle and glass back to the kitchen, and when she opened the dishwasher, she smiled. In the top rack, there was a basket with three silicone butt plugs, washed and ready for use. She grabbed the basket and went to the bedroom.

She had almost expected to find three beds there, but there was only one, unusually large one. Goldie shrugged and made herself comfortable. She placed the basket on the nightstand, next to the pump bottle of lube there. Eyes closed, she slowed down her breathing.

Goldie stuck to her habitual method. She began with her heavy breasts, kneading the soft skin and teasing her nipples into sharp points. Eventually, she let her hands roam down her belly, to her inner thighs she massaged the skin there, spreading heat and relaxation through her entire body. She was still avoiding the neediest part of her anatomy, but as always she liked to tease herself. 

Giving in, she cupped one hand over her sex. She moved her hand in wide, slow circles, tilting her hips to increase friction. As she felt her arousal drip from her, Goldie moaned and took her hand away. She pumped lube into her hand and coated the first toy with it. She took a deep breath. 

She pushed the plug into her smaller opening. She frowned. "Too small," she said. She pulled it out and tossed it aside.

So, she grabbed the second plug and coated it in lube. She tried to push it into herself. "Ouch, too big," she said, and she tossed it aside. 

Finally, she took the third plug, lubed it up, and pushed it inside. "Mmm, just right," she said, enjoying the comfortable fullness.

She let the plug rest inside of her while her hands resumed the circular tease they had abandoned. She could feel her pleasure mounting—the tightness in her stomach, the tingle between her legs—and she increase the pressure of her hands. She let her finger slip between the folds of her flesh, and felt reality slip entirely from mind into body as she reached her climax.

***

Benji took out his key and inserted it in the door. He stopped, and then turned to look at the two men standing behind him. "Which one of you forgot to lock the door?"

Brian and Brett looked at each other, but didn't answer.

The first man pushed the door and walked in, followed by the other two. "Anyone up for a drink?"

All three seemed to be in agreement that a drink would do them some good. They stepped into the kitchen.

"Someone's been drinking my wine!" said Benji.

"Someone's been drinking my wine too!" said Brian.

"Someone drank all of mine," said Brett.

Obviously, someone had been in their apartment, and for all they knew, that person could still be there. The three men looked in the pantry and in the hall closets, but found no one. They entered the bathroom and found a bright piece of fabric on the tiled floor.

"Someone's been using my bath oil," said Benji.

"Someone's been using my bath oil too," said Brian.

"Someone used all of mine," said Brett.

They saw the light in the bedroom, so they cautiously walked in that direction. Hopefully their intruder was not armed. As they neared the door, they almost tripped over two slippery objects.

"Someone's been trying out my toy," said Benji.

"Someone's been trying out my toy too," said Brian.

"Someone's been playing with my toy, and she's still here," Brett bellowed.

Startled by the noise, Goldie opened her eyes and stared at the three men before her. "Help!" she screamed, and she ran away.

Or at least she tried to.

Brian, still standing by the door, had caught her and sat her back down on the bed. "So, do you break into people's homes often?"

Goldie said nothing.

"Do do you have a name or do we just call you Naked Thief?" Brian asked.

"I'm not a thief. Name's Louise, but people call me Goldie. You know, cause of the hair." 

"Well, Goldie, I'm Brian." He pointed to the man standing on his right. "This is Benji, and that's—"

The third had been standing on the left, observing the situation. "I'm Brett," he said before his friend could finish. His blue eyes traveled Goldie's body, assessing her from head to toe.

"So, now what?"

"Now, we call the cops, Ms. Goldie," said Brett, his muscular arms crossed in front of him, "unless you have a better idea."

Goldie looked at the three. They certainly were attractive—Benji, tall, lean, blue-black skin, Brian, shorter, bearded, and imposing, and Brett, with his blond hair and carefully sculpted arms—and they did share her taste for toys.

She stood and hoped all three would enjoy the sight as much as Brett seemed to. "How about I make it up to you," she said.

To her relief, all three men smiled. Brett pulled her close for a kiss, while Benji and Brian undressed each other. Goldie let herself go soft, confident that the strong arms holding her would not let her fall. As independent as she was, she never could resist men with masculine physiques. Today, she was triply spoiled.

A pair of hands caressed Goldie's calves, her thighs and her fleshy bottom, while someone nibbled at her neck. She moaned into Brett's mouth and wondered how long it would be before her mounting lust was sated. As if they had felt her need, the two men stepped away from Goldie, and Brett gently let her go. Goldie fell back on the bed, almost dizzy, and sighed. She had not yet had enough of his kiss. The desire was obvious in her eyes as she looked up at Brett.

Yet, Goldie's attention shifted when lips wrapped her nipple in warmth. She looked down to see Benji's bald skull; the man seemed much too focused on his task to notice her looking. He moved from one breast to the other, sucking on each nipple while he teased the other with his hand.

Goldie looked up again, curious to see Brett's reaction to the scene. She did not see him where he had been standing. Instead, she saw Brian kneeling before her, his bearded face smiling as he looked between her legs. He hooked his strong hands behind Goldie's knees. The hair on his forearms tickled her calves, until he swiped his tongue against her warming flesh. 

Goldie closed her eyes, allowing her other senses to lead. She was lost, floating between the increasing stimulation of her nipples and the texture of Brian's beard against her wetness.

"Mmm, that smells good," said Brett's voice.

Goldie opened her eyes to see him sitting next to her naked, stroking himself. He was as aroused as her own scent showed her to be. "And that," she said, looking at his cock, "looks tasty."

Brett smiled and moved closer, so that Goldie could wrap her lips around him. Goldie moaned around his flesh, perhaps because of the taste of him, or perhaps because of the relentless pleasure the other two men provided her.

Tough he visibly enjoyed Goldie's teasing tongue, Brett pulled away, leaving her mouth with a wet pop. Goldie groaned, as Benji and Brian had also stepped back, abandoning their posts. The three men stood aligned, their cocks standing in salute to her body. She took in their shades, their shapes, their straining tips—each one different, yet enticing.

She pointed at Benji's cock. "This one's just right," she said.

Then, she pointed at Brian's. "This one's just right too."

Finally, she pointed at Brett's. "And this one's just right as well. Lucky me. Shall we do something with them?"

The men needed no further invitation. They picked her up, and amidst kisses, nibbles, and caresses, Goldie found herself surrounded by manly flesh. She felt a hairy chest pressed against her back, and large hands kneading her breasts. Above her face, dark flesh bobbed up and down, and every time it came close enough, Goldie licked its tip. She reached up, stroking it slowly. When Benji placed a condom between his lips and unrolled it along the length of Brett's cock. When the very tip of his nose disappear in curly golden hair, Goldie shivered, and stroked just a bit faster.

Once more, the men shifted. Now, Goldie knelt above Brian's waist, flanked by Benji and Brett.

Brian looked at her, his want apparent, and Goldie let herself sink down, finally feeling him inside of her. Her hips danced in rhythm with his thrusts. She leaned forward, to let him suck on her breasts, and she tightened around him when she felt tongues licking at her other opening. The skin there had always been so sensitive.

The tongues were soon replaced by fingers, gently massaging her. She heard the unwrapping of another condom, and then Brett's voice.

"Let's see if you like this as much as you liked my plug," he said. He entered her.

Goldie gasped and took a moment to catch her breath. Once she could breathe again, she arched her back and closed her eyes. The fullness, the friction, it was almost more than she could bear. The two men maintained a careful pace, and Goldie could feel her pleasure mounting.

She felt lips against her own. She knew they were Benji's. Without opening her eyes, Goldie felt her way to his cock, and resumed her earlier stroking. This time, she matched her speed to that of the two men filling her.

When she felt Benji begin to twitch, Goldie opened her eyes; she wanted to see him come. She held him until he peaked, and couldn't help but smile when she noticed Brian lick the few drops that landed on his lips. There was more caught in his beard, and the sight sent Goldie over the edge. She whimpered, seemed to hold her breath for a moment, and then cried out before collapsing between Brett and Brian. Thankfully, they soon followed her climax, for she could not have taken much more.

***

The four lay in a tangle of limbs, a mix of shades and textures, blissfully exhausted.

"You know, guys," Brian said to his roommates, "I think it would be nice to have a woman with us around here."

"Well, our bed's big enough for four," said Benji.

"And we do seem to like the same toys," said Brett. "So what do you think, Goldie? Can we talk you into staying with us? You can help out downstairs."

"Well, I did use to bartend. And I haven't finished looking through your books."

"So then: a job, a bed, and three hot men. How does that sound?"

"I think that sounds fairytale perfect," Goldie answered.

And they lived happily ever after. 



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 05



Once upon a time, in the palace of the Sea King, a party was in full swing. It was the eighteenth birthday of the king's youngest daughter, Ariana, and every merperson in the area had come to celebrate. 

But Ariana wasn't enjoying her party. She preferred peace and quiet to the loud celebrations that often occurred in the palace, and usually managed to slip away after an obligatory few minutes of attendance. Unfortunately, leaving her own birthday festivities wasn't an option. Too many people wanted to speak to her, to congratulate her on becoming an adult, or to dance with her. If she left, everyone would look for her, and her father would be furious.

Instead, she stayed in the palace ballroom, chafing in the decorative shells and anemones her grandmother had adorned her with. How much longer would this torture go on? 

In addition to her discomfort, Ariana had another reason for wanting the party to end. On this, her eighteenth birthday, she finally had the option of rising to the human world to see the wonders her sisters and friends had told her about. Granted, she would have to remain in the water, and would therefore be unable to see everything she was so curious about, but at least she could get a glimpse of the life humans lived. If she could ever get out of the ballroom.

Her father came over to her, followed by a merman Ariana hadn't seen before. "Daughter, I wish you to meet Lord Havian," the Sea King said. "He has traveled quite a distance to attend your birthday ball."

"It's a pleasure," Ariana lied. She didn't want to meet yet another potential dance partner.

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Ariana." Havian took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I have heard of the beauty of the king's youngest daughter, and wanted to view it for myself."

Ariana rolled her eyes. She'd heard many compliments and propositions that night, but none as corny as this. "I hope I meet your expectations," she said. 

"You surpass them," Havian replied.

"Daughter, Lord Havian has requested the pleasure of your company tomorrow," the king said. "He wishes to court you, and I have agreed. Your maid will accompany you tomorrow, and you and Havian may spend the day becoming acquainted."

Court her? Ariana was just eighteen! True, three of her sisters had married at her age, but she had no intention of marrying so young. There were too many things she wished to do, too much to see. "Father, Lord Havian, I appreciate the attention and the compliment, but I do not wish to be courted."

"Daughter, you will follow my wishes," the king replied. "Lord Havian made a respectful request, and you will grant it with your company tomorrow. And if all goes well, a wedding will be planned."

Over her dead body. Ariana didn't even like the looks of Havian. She could hardly imagine spending her life with him, let alone sharing her body as she knew a wife would be expected to do. Ariana didn't intend to marry at all, and certainly wouldn't marry someone her father had chosen. He might have her best interests at heart, but he, like the rest of her family, did not understand her in the least. "Father, I don't feel that one day's acquaintance would be sufficient basis for a marriage," she said.

"And as your father, I overrule that decision," he replied. "This is a discussion best held in private, daughter. You do not wish to argue in front of Lord Havian, surely."

Ariana didn't actually care who they were arguing in front of, but she knew that to her father, appearances were everything. "My apologies," she said through gritted teeth. "Father, I wish to take advantage of my option to visit the surface. When might I do so?"

Havian chuckled. "I have heard that you are quite fascinated by the tailless beasts who live outside the sea, my dear. Perhaps we could visit the surface together tomorrow."

"Perhaps. But for my first visit, I would prefer to go alone." Ariana turned back to her father. "Father, when, please? When might I go on my own?"

The Sea King paused. Ariana was his favorite child, the last his wife had given him before her death, and she greatly resembled her mother. Ariana knew that he might not wish her to go to the surface unaccompanied, but she was certain he would allow it, if for no other reason than he might see its importance to her. Finally he said, "Remain here for a short time longer, and then you may go."

Ariana flung her arms around him. "Thank you, Father! I promise, I'll be careful not to be seen by the humans."

"I trust that will be the case."

"I would be pleased to accompany you tonight," Havian said.

"That would be unwise," the Sea King said. "Ariana's maid has been dismissed for the evening, and there would be no one to chaperone. I am not willing to permit you to be alone with my daughter until the engagement is definite. It would not seem right."

Havian inclined his head. "As you wish, Sire. Ariana, perhaps I could trouble you for a dance before you go?"

Now that she was getting her way, Ariana felt more gracious toward the lord. "Of course. It would be my pleasure."

"Again, lady, the pleasure is mine."

He took her hand and they swam into the center of the dancing crowd. Ariana loved to dance, and was generally very graceful. But Havian was clumsy and clunky, and Ariana found herself unable to move the way she wished. Havian seemed to notice no problem; he smiled and chattered as though they were the most graceful couple in the room. Ariana was thankful when the music stopped. "Thank you for the dance," she said. 

"Thank you," Havian replied. "You're a wonderful dancer."

Ariana couldn't bring herself to return the compliment; that would be too untruthful. "Thank you," she said instead.

"Havian!" A large merman swam to them. "You old dogfish! It's marvelous to see you." He realized who Havian was with. "Princess Ariana. I apologize for my rudeness, lady."

"It's fine," Ariana said. "I can see you know Lord Havian. I'll leave the two of you to talk." 

"I'll find you afterward," Havian promised.

Not if Ariana could help it. Havian's friend was giving her the opportunity to escape for her visit to the surface. "Until later," she said.

As she swam away, she heard Havian say, "I can't wait until her father approves our engagement. She's a gorgeous little piece of tail, isn't she?" His friend rapidly hushed him; one didn't say such things about a princess. Havian's comment made Ariana more determined than before to avoid spending any time with him.

Without bothering to tell anyone where she was going, she left the ballroom. After overhearing Havian, she had no desire at all to remain. Her father would figure out where she had gone, and she would make her apologies to him and to any remaining guests when she returned. But now she needed to be away from the noise and the crowd. She needed to see the surface world.

Once out of the palace, Ariana swam swiftly upward. Her older sisters, who had already made this journey, had pointed her in the direction that would bring her to what they claimed was one of the most interesting parts of the surface world. "Buildings higher than the palace!" they'd claimed. "And so many humans! You'd never believe it if we told you."

Maybe not, but Ariana had always wished they would tell her more. Now, at last, she would have the chance to find out for herself.

She broke the surface of the water and looked around. Above her hung a large, white globe, surrounded by many points of light. "Moon and stars," she reminded herself from what she had learned about the human world. "They're beautiful!"

Ahead of her, she saw the city her sisters had told her about. She swam closer, drinking in the sight of the glowing lights and huge structures. How had humans built such enormous things? 

A roar sounded from above her. Frightened, Ariana looked up and saw blinking lights passing over her. What was it? It appeared not to notice her, so Ariana relaxed and continued her swim.

As she neared the city, she saw some familiar things. Boats. She'd only seen them from below, of course, but they were immediately recognizable. Humans walked about on the decks of the boats, and in the still night air Ariana could hear their voices, though she couldn't make out the words they said. They were fascinating creatures, even more than she'd imagined they would be: the way they moved about on what she knew were called legs, the strange items that covered their bodies. Perhaps these items were needed in the air; it seemed colder than the ocean to her. 

Cautious not to allow herself to be seen, Ariana swam still closer. Nearer the land, the boats were smaller, each occupied by only a few humans. Music played from some of the boats, some soft and beautiful, some loud and painful to Ariana's ears. But all of it was fascinating. Despite the stories from her sisters, she'd never expected anything like this.

Suddenly she heard a scream from one of the boats. She turned in time to see a human body hit the water. Rapidly, Ariana dove beneath the waves and swam to the site. She knew humans couldn't live below the ocean; this one might need her help.

When she reached the place, she saw a beautiful young man. His eyes were closed, and bubbles came from his nose. His long legs dangled beneath him. He seemed unable to swim to the surface. Ariana knew she wasn't supposed to interact with humans, but she couldn't allow this one to die. She grasped him beneath his arms and pulled him toward the land.

As she got closer to the land, the water became shallower. Long posts sank from above the water down into the sand below her, holding up flat structures to which some boats were tied. Looking up through the water, Ariana saw humans on the flat structures. Perhaps they would be able to help the young man. She pushed him ahead of her to the surface and held him, hoping that none of the humans would see her.

She heard a shout. "Someone's in the water!"

A splash sounded beside her. Quickly she let go of the man and swam away. She didn't want to; she wanted to remain with the young man and make sure he was all right. She wanted to stay with him in his world. She had never seen anything like him; she wanted to see more.

But she couldn't stay. She wasn't human, and it made no sense to her that she would want to stay with such a strangely-shaped creature. Nor would it be safe to do so; her entire life, she had been taught not to let humans see her. She waited until she saw the young man pulled from the water, then returned to her home. The party had ended; her father awaited her to confront her about leaving without notice. Ariana pretended to listen, but all the while, her mind was on the young man she had rescued. When she finally retired to her room for the night, he filled her dreams.

* * *

The next day, Lord Havian arrived at the palace before Ariana was fully awake. Reluctantly, she allowed her maid to assist her with the shells a princess was required to wear in her hair and on her tail. Her breasts, of course, were left bare; mermaids had no reason to cover themselves. Ariana was aware that mermen considered breasts alluring, but they were as much a part of the body as a tail or hair. It would never occur to her, or any other mermaid, to hide them.

Havian awaited her in her father's throne room. Her father stood beside him, indicating without words his approval of the man. Ariana's maid followed her and waited politely at the doorway to the throne room. "Daughter, Havian has arrived to spend the day with you," her father said. "Your maid, of course, will accompany you as chaperone. I trust that you will allow Havian to take you where he will, and that you will make an honest attempt to become acquainted with him so that you might make a wise decision as to his proposal."

Ariana had already decided. She wouldn't marry Havian under any circumstances. But it would only anger her father to hear that. He wanted what was best for her; she just didn't agree with his assessment of what was best. "Of course, Father," she replied. 

"Enjoy yourselves." The Sea King returned to his throne, dismissing them.

Havian took Ariana's hand. She cringed at his touch, but managed to hide it. "Where shall we go, lady?" he asked. "What have you always wished to see?"

The city above the waves, she thought but did not say. "I shall go wherever you wish to take me," she replied. 

"Very well. I know of a beautiful area nearby, filled with rocks and anemones. I think you will enjoy it. It is nearly as lovely as you."

Ariana rolled her eyes at the compliment, and did not thank him for it. Something about his words rang insincere. This man thought nothing of her, save what he would gain by marrying a princess. He would play the part, she could see; he would act as though he loved her until he had what he wanted. But she hadn't forgotten the overheard comment at the ball. What he wanted was something far less innocent than her time.

At least with her maid along, he would be unable to make any attempt at anything inappropriate. The maid had served Ariana nearly all her life, and would allow no harm to come to her. Ariana trusted the woman with her life. 

As he had said, Havian brought them to a small garden-like area not far from the palace. Ariana wondered that she had not discovered it herself on one of her exploratory trips. "It is lovely," she said. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Its loveliness pales in comparison to yours."

Havian pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Ariana struggled, but he was much stronger than she. His tongue insinuated itself between her lips; his hand came up to cover one small breast. Ariana slapped his arm, but he did not let go. And her maid did not speak up to stop him.

Finally, Ariana was able to break the kiss. But Havian did not release her breast. "I suggest you move your hand," Ariana said coldly.

"Do you not enjoy my touch, lady?" Havian asked. "All women like to have their bodies admired by men."

"I do not wish you to touch me at all." Ariana looked around for her maid, who waited at the edge of the garden. "Why don't you help me?"

"Lord Havian is doing nothing wrong." The maid smiled. "This is what womanhood is, my lady. This is what marriage will be. Enjoy what he offers."

"Indeed, enjoy it," Havian said. "Your maid already has."

Stunned, Ariana looked at her maid, who met her eyes with a lascivious smile. "You planned this," Ariana said. "You planned to bring me here and- and-"

"Of course, lady," Havian replied. "Surely you don't expect me to propose without sampling you." He caressed her lower back. "What shall I sample first?"

"Nothing!" Ariana jammed her elbow into Havian's ribs and rapidly swam away. 

Once out of danger, Ariana burst into tears. How could her trusted maid have betrayed her this way? She had expected no better from Havian, but she had thought she would be able to depend on her maid to ensure her safety. 

She swam toward the palace, but stopped before she reached it. What would she tell her father? Would he believe the truth? He had seemed pleased about the impending match with Havian. Perhaps he had known Havian's intentions. Even if he hadn't, he would be angry, and Ariana was uncertain at whom he would direct the anger. She had done nothing wrong, but her father might see it as rudeness on her part that she had fought Havian rather than simply turning him down. 

She didn't want to return to the palace anyway. Ariana knew where she wanted to go. The young man she had saved was still in her thoughts, and she felt undeniably drawn to him. In her current form, she would be unable to find him, but if she were human... And being human, she would be able to live in the human world as she'd often dreamed, and would be away from Havian and others like him who sought to bed and wed a princess. In the human world, no one would know who she was.

Only one merperson could help her with that, and it was one Ariana was afraid to encounter. The Sea Witch, she who assisted the merfolk when she desired and made their lives more difficult when it pleased her to do so. Ariana knew the Sea Witch had the power to make her human, but she would have to offer something in return. What could she give?

As she swam to the Sea Witch's cave, Ariana searched her mind for something to offer. All the treasures she had were at the palace, and she had no way to retrieve them. The only item she had that the Sea Witch might find of value was a beautiful shell that had belonged to her mother. Ariana didn't want to give it up, but if it meant she could go to the human world and find the man who had taken over her thoughts, she would do it.

At the Sea Witch's cave, Ariana was met by two large sharks, who swam back and forth in front of the entrance, preventing any but the bravest from going inside. Ariana swallowed her fear and swam directly toward them, singing as she went. To her surprise, they allowed her to pass.

The Sea Witch waited just inside. "Greetings, Princess," she said. "I have been expecting you."

"Then you know why I'm here?"

"Indeed. You wish to be a human, one of those poor unfortunates who never know the joy of the sea, who are forced to walk about on two spindly sticks rather than gliding effortlessly through the water. Why do you wish this, Princess?"

"I visited the surface last night during my birthday ball," Ariana said. "I encountered one of them, a man who had fallen from a boat. He was beautiful, and I wish to find him again, for I can't stop thinking about him."

"It is unlikely you would be able to find him," the Sea Witch said. "The city which you saw contains thousands of humans. Most of them do not even know each other, and you know nothing of this man save what he looks like. How would you locate him?"

"If you can make me human, you can give me something that would enable me to find him. Please. I can't return to the palace; my father wishes to marry me off, and the man he has chosen is, in my mind, far from suitable. I want to marry for love, and I love the human I saved last night."

"Love does not develop as quickly as that," the Sea Witch said. "It is cultivated over time. However, you are clearly infatuated with the man, and therefore I will help you. I can transform you into a human woman, and I can aid you in finding this man. However, once you find him, you must attract him on your own. You must gain his love. Should you be unable to do so, you will die in human form, and will never see your home again. Are you willing to give this up for a man you have seen only once?"

"I would give up anything for him. If I die, at least I'll have experienced humanity. And maybe I will gain his love."

The Sea Witch nodded. "Then first I must have your payment."

"I haven't much to offer. Only this shell." Ariana held up the shell that had been her mother's. "It is dear to me, but I will give it up for this opportunity."

"Keep your bauble," the Sea Witch replied. "I wish something that is more a part of you. I will take your voice."

"My voice? But without that, how can I speak to the young man? How will I get him to love me if I cannot talk to him?"

"Women have many ways to attract men. Your form, your movements, the swing of your hair, all these things will draw the man to you if you use them properly. Your eyes speak volumes, Princess, without you uttering a sound. You will find a way. Your voice is the payment I require. Will you give it?"

What choice did she have? Return to her normal life and risk being married off to a man she despised, or give the Sea Witch what she demanded and chance finding true love. "I will," she said.

Those were the last words Ariana ever uttered. The moment her agreement was given, the Sea Witch forced her mouth against Ariana's, as Havian had done. The witch's slimy tongue pushed into Ariana's mouth, and Ariana felt something give way and flow into the witch. She wanted to vomit from the sensation of the witch's tongue in her mouth, but mercifully, the witch released her before that occurred. "Open your mouth, Princess," the witch ordered. "Try to speak."




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 05



Ariana tried to say something, but no sound came out save her breath. She couldn't say a word. 

"Wonderful!" the Sea Witch exclaimed. "You have paid your price, Princess, and now I will keep my end of the bargain." She took a vial of foul-looking, smoky stuff from a shelf and held it out to Ariana. "Swim to the surface, then drink this. Your tail will split in two and become those 'legs' of which humans are so proud. You must leave the water within moments of your transformation, or you will drown, for you may be able to swim as a mermaid but you will not have the skill as a human. There will be pain, Princess, make no mistake about that. With each step you take on those legs of yours, it will feel as though you are being stabbed in the soles of your feet. And there may come a time after you find your man when you will feel a sharper pain and will bleed. You have seven days to win his love or you will die, and will turn to sea foam as do all merfolk. Any questions?" She waited a moment, but of course Ariana said nothing. The witch laughed. "Of course, if you had questions you could not tell me. One more thing I will give you."

She took a strip of skin- Ariana tried not to think about what that skin might have come from- and on it wrote with a quill and ink. Handing this to Ariana along with the vial, she said, "You cannot tell your love your name, but you are being brave and deserve to be known by your true name. That is what that skin says. Ariana. Study it and perhaps you will learn to write the human language so that in time, if there is time, you might communicate with him."

Ariana bowed her head to show her thanks to the witch and left the cave. The sharks did not hinder her; they were there only to prevent people from entering, not from leaving. Ariana swam rapidly toward the surface, hoping she would not encounter any other merfolk. But her passage was unnoticed, and she arrived at the surface within minutes.

The Sea Witch had told her she would need to leave the water immediately after taking the potion, so Ariana swam as close to land as she could without being seen before she uncorked the vial. A foul smell emanated from it, and she almost lost her nerve. But this was her one chance to find her love, her one chance to escape the life her father had planned for her. Ariana took a deep breath, then swallowed the contents of the vial.

The effects were immediate. Her tail was torn in two; the pain was excruciating, though mercifully it didn't last. Looking down through the water, Ariana saw her beautiful green-blue tail change into two legs the color of the flesh on her upper body. Between her legs was a patch of hair the color of that on her head. A strange place for it; Ariana was not quite certain of its purpose. And her mind was unable to focus enough to figure it out; although the pain had abated, she could not get used to the feeling of legs rather than tail. 

Her time was running out, as well. The Sea Witch had told her she would drown if she did not get out of the water. Ariana tried to swim to the land, but could not coordinate her legs to get her there. With her arms alone, she dragged herself through the water, hoping she would be found before she sank below the waves. She couldn't drown before she found her love.

A shout came from above. "Someone's in the water!"

"What the hell?" another voice said. "It's the week for near-drownings, I guess."

A splash beside her, and Ariana felt strong arms gripping her, pulling her from the sea. She turned to see the face of her rescuer and almost fainted when she recognized the young man she had saved. Clearly the Sea Witch had kept her word that she would enable Ariana to find him.

He pulled her to the edge of the water, and his friend assisted him in bringing her onto dry land. For the first time, Ariana felt something dry and solid beneath her. She almost laughed with joy at the feeling, but stopped herself. She would have been unable to laugh anyway, without a voice.

"She's naked," the man's friend said.

"Yeah, well, sometimes people try to drown themselves without clothes," the young man retorted. "Close your mouth and get your mind out of the gutter. She looks like she's in shock." Lowering his voice to a gentle tone, he said to Ariana, "Are you hurt? Where did you come from?"

Ariana shook her head in response to his first question, but of course could not answer the second. Even had she been able to speak, she wouldn't have known what to say. Surely she couldn't tell him the truth of where she was from. 

"Can you talk?" the man asked.

Again Ariana shook her head. Remembering the strip of skin she still clutched in her hand, she held it out to him. "Ariana," he read. "That's your name?"

Ariana smiled and nodded. She loved the way her name sounded in his mouth, as though his lips and tongue were caressing it. "My name is Finn," he said. "Are you from around here? Do you live nearby?" Ariana shook her head. "Do you have friends near here?" Finn asked.

Another head shake. "Good grief," Finn's friend said. "Apparently she just appeared out of thin air. What are you going to do with her, Finn?"

"The first thing is to get some clothes on her and get her warm." Finn took off his shirt, revealing a broad, muscular chest. He handed the shirt to Ariana. "Put that on. Garrett, go to the truck and get my spare swim trunks. Those will work as shorts for her. When we get back to my place, I'll call my sister and see if she has any clothes she can lend Ariana."

"Your place?" Garrett asked. "You're taking a strange girl to your place? You're nuts! She could be a psycho or something."

Finn looked into Ariana's eyes. "I don't think so. I think she's just lost, and I want to help her. Ariana, put the shirt on."

Ariana looked at the garment, clueless. She had seen how the shirt looked on Finn, and how he had removed it, but she didn't know how to put it on. After a moment, Finn took it from her. "Hold up your arms," he said. Ariana obeyed.

"Okay, either she has a head injury or she's really stupid," Garrett said.

"Shut up." Finn eased the shirt over Ariana's head, then manipulated her arms through the sleeves. He was taller than she, and the shirt hung nearly to midthigh on her. "That's better," Finn said. "Garrett, thought I asked you to get those swim trunks."

"I wanted one last look at her body. She's hot, even if there is something wrong with her."

Finn smacked him. "You want to walk home? Stop saying shit like that. Come on, Ariana. You understand what's happening, right? You're going to come back to my place until we figure out where you belong."

Ariana nodded. As far as she was concerned, Finn's place was where she belonged, but she couldn't tell him that. Perhaps she would figure out how to write enough to tell him her feelings, someday. Someday before her seven days were over.

"All right, then let's go," Finn said. "And don't pay any attention to Garrett. He just doesn't know any better."

"I know better than to bring someone you just fished out of the harbor to my house," Garrett said.

"That's because you still live with your mommy and daddy."

Finn led Ariana to a large piece of metal. As she walked, just as the Sea Witch had said, a stabbing sensation covered the soles of her feet. It hurt, but Ariana kept her mind on Finn and barely noticed the pain. 

Round rubber objects were at the bottom of the metal object, and it had glass through which Ariana could see inside it. She rested the palm of her hand against it, feeling the warmth that the metal had soaked up from the sun. "It's not much, but it's mine," Finn said. He opened one of the doors. "Get in."

"Where am I supposed to sit?" Garrett demanded.

"You're a pain in the ass," Finn said. "Ariana's small; she can sit in the middle."

Ariana climbed into the vehicle and slid to the middle of the seat. The seat was hot beneath her thighs, painfully so. "Sorry about the seat," Finn said. He fished a piece of cloth from behind the seat and gave it to her. "Sit on this towel. That will make it better."

Ariana lifted her buttocks from the seat and placed the towel beneath her, then sat back down. The towel covered the unpleasant heat, though she could still feel warmth through it. The men got into the vehicle on either side of her. "Fasten your seat belt, Ariana," Finn said.

Ariana had no idea what he was talking about. She watched as he and Garrett brought strips of fabric and metal across their chests and abdomens and fastened them beside Ariana. "Seat belt," Garrett repeated, enunciating each word. "Good lord, Finn, I don't think she get anything."

"It's like she's never seen a car or truck before." Finn reached between himself and Ariana and pulled out a similar strip of fabric and metal. "This one doesn't go across your chest," he said. He brought it over Ariana's abdomen and fastened it between Ariana and Garrett. As he did so, his hand brushed Ariana's belly, making her shiver.

Finn inserted a small piece of metal into a slot in front of him and turned it. The engine was much louder than that of any boat Ariana had ever heard, and she jumped. But she did recognize the sound. "Are you scared or something?" Garrett asked her.

Ariana shook her head. The noise had startled her, but she knew that with Finn beside her, she was safe from anything. And after the initial sound of starting up, the engine was a pleasant, relaxing noise. 

Finn moved a lever and pressed a pedal on the floor. The engine sounded louder, and then the vehicle began to move, Finn's hands on the wheel in front of him steering it onto a street where many other vehicles moved. Ariana was thankful for what she had learned of the surface world; although these objects were unfamiliar to her, she realized now what they were, and was fascinated. Just as boats moved through water, these vehicles moved on land, rolling along on the round rubber beneath them. 

Ariana watched intently through the glass as they passed other vehicles and buildings. She was so occupied with trying to see everything at the same time that she barely noticed Garrett's thigh pressing against hers. Then he placed his hand on her leg, and she started. "A little jumpy, huh?" he said softly. "What do you expect when you walk around naked."

Ariana slapped his hand. The movement caught Finn's attention, and he glanced over. "You want to get your ass out of my truck, Garrett?" he snapped.

"What are you talking about?"

"Keep your hands off her, or I'll drop you off right here. Without stopping."

"Why? You want her for yourself?"

"I don't think she's like that. She's too innocent. Just leave her alone. You have plenty of women to choose from; you don't need her."

"Whatever." Garrett shifted himself away from Ariana.

Ariana studied Finn gratefully. Garrett wanted the same from her that Havian had attempted to take, and Finn had stopped him. Ariana began now to understand what the Sea Witch had meant, that her body would attract men's attention, that she had means other than her voice to earn Finn's love. Finn clearly cared for her already; he had treated her with so much kindness without even knowing who she was. Ariana sent a silent thanks to the Sea Witch for her assistance in finding Finn, a task that might have been impossible otherwise.

After several minutes, Finn stopped the vehicle in front of a large brick structure. "This is my apartment building," he said. "You can come in. Garrett, go home."

"Yeah, whatever," Garrett snarled. "Thanks for nothing."

"Asshole," Finn muttered.

Garrett got out of the vehicle and slammed his door so hard the vehicle shook. Ariana shuddered. "Don't worry," Finn told her. "He'll get over it. He just thinks any female is fair game to drag into bed."

Ariana looked at him curiously, not quite understanding what he meant. Finn smiled. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm not trying to get anything from you; I just want to help you. Garrett doesn't grasp the concept of helping someone without expecting something in return. Come on, let's get you inside and find something else you can wear. You look very nice in my T-shirt, but it isn't exactly acceptable to wear in public."

They got out, and Finn led Ariana into the building. Several doors lined the hallway. Did Finn live in this entire structure? It was as large as her father's palace! But he unlocked one door and pushed it open to reveal a small room containing a pair of stuffed chairs and a small kitchen. "It isn't much, but it's big enough for one," Finn said. They went inside, and he closed the door and pointed to another door beside one chair. "That's the bedroom. You can sleep in there while you're here; I'll sleep in my recliner."

Ariana shook her head. It wasn't fair for him to give up his own comfort for her. But then she realized it was another indication of how much he cared for her. Perhaps seven days would be enough to gain his love and make her transformation permanent.

"Yes, I will," Finn said. "Don't worry; I don't mind it. I fall asleep in the recliner sometimes when I'm watching TV. I can manage to sleep there for a few days, till we find out where you're supposed to be."

Ariana smiled thankfully at him. But in her heart, she wanted him to sleep beside her, not in another room. The touches she had experienced from Havian and Garrett filled her with revulsion, but from Finn, she would not only tolerate but would enjoy such caresses. Even if he laid no finger on her, feeling the warmth of his body beside her would be wonderful.

Finn opened the bedroom door. The room was so small the bed took up nearly the entire space. "Sorry it's so small," Finn said. "You can take a nap if you want. I'm going to call my sister and see if she can bring over some clothes for you to borrow. You're about her size."

Ariana nodded her thanks and lay down on the bed. The T-shirt she wore rode up, revealing the tops of her thighs and what lay between them. Finn gulped and said. "You can get under the sheet if you want. Sleep well."

He backed out of the room and closed the door. Ariana slipped under the sheet. Why had Finn seemed so flustered? He hadn't reacted that way when he'd seen her nude at the shore, but it seemed the sight of the place between Ariana's legs upset him.

Ariana touched the hair down there. It was soft and curly. She slid her fingers lower and encountered a hard nub. Touching it made her shiver; she hadn't felt anything that pleasurable before. Experimentally, she pushed on it harder and caught her breath. What an amazing sensation!

What else was down there? Ariana was reluctant to stop touching the nub, but was curious. She felt a small opening right behind the nub; when she touched it, she felt the need to urinate. How did humans do that? She got off the bed and opened the door. Finn was sitting on one of the chairs, talking into a small device. "I don't know where she's from," he said. "She doesn't talk." He noticed Ariana in the doorway. "Ariana, do you need something?"

Ariana nodded, but was unable to think of a way to explain what she needed. "If you're thirsty, there's some bottled water in the fridge," Finn said. "And that door right there is the bathroom. You might need to go; sorry I didn't think of it."

The word "bathroom" was unfamiliar to Ariana, but she decided to check it out. Inside were a low porcelain seat, with a large hole in it, a stall enclosed by a curtain, and a taller porcelain item. This last looked somewhat familiar to Ariana; she had seen things like it in the piles of cast-off surface items she had found on the bottom of the sea. She turned one of the knobs and water gushed out. This must be how humans cleaned themselves.

The seat was a mystery to her. Ariana sat on it and relaxed. To her astonishment, water gushed from her! The relief for her bladder was immediate. This was how humans urinated? How strange!

Ariana stood and turned on the water again. She ran her hands through it, enjoying the moisture on her skin, then left the room. "Ariana, next time you go to the bathroom, please close the door," Finn said. "And you need to flush the toilet, please."

Ariana looked at him, confused. The toilet? Which item was that, and what did "flush" mean? "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Finn said. "Here, let me show you."

He led her back into the bathroom and pointed at the seat. "This is the toilet," he said. He pushed a metal lever, and with a loud noise, the water inside the toilet was sucked down. "And that's flushing. Do that every time you use the toilet, okay?"

Ariana nodded. "Where do you come from?" Finn said. "Where is it that doesn't have cars and toilets?"

He seemed to be talking to himself more than to her, so Ariana didn't worry about answering. She touched his shoulder in thanks and went back to the bedroom. 

With the door closed, she lay on the bed again and resumed her exploration. Beyond the first hole between her legs was another, larger hole. Ariana slipped a finger inside. The feeling was wonderful. She moved her finger in and out, longing for something, though she didn't know what. After a few moments, she returned to the nub, rubbing and pressing it until suddenly it felt as though every atom of her body was coming apart.

Frightened, Ariana lay still until the feeling subsided. She wasn't sure what had happened, but although it scared her, it had also been the most incredible thing she'd ever felt. Was this what a man might make a woman feel? What would it be like if Finn's fingers instead of her own touched her there?

Ariana turned onto her side and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was asleep.

She woke to the sound of voices in the other room. Cautiously she opened the door and saw two women sitting in the second chair in the room. Finn noticed Ariana and smiled. "Ariana, come meet my sister Jackie and her friend Petra," he said. "Jackie, this is Ariana, the mystery girl."

Jackie looked at Ariana suspiciously. "She's very pretty. Hello, Ariana. I'd like to know more about you. My brother's a little too trusting sometimes."

"Oh, Jackie, stop it." Petra smiled. "Hello, Ariana. Finn's been telling us about you. It's nice to meet you." She wriggled out of the chair and picked up a pile of fabric from the floor. "We brought you some clothes," she said. "I hope they'll fit. Finn's right, you can't walk around in that T-shirt."

"You guys astound me," Jackie said. "How could she not have clothes? How come she can't tell us anything? Ariana, you can write, can't you? You could write down stuff, if my brother hadn't been too clueless to think of it."

"I'm not clueless," Finn protested. He got up and took a thin stick and pad of paper from the top of a tall thing in the kitchen, and brought them to Ariana. "Here. You can write, right?"

Ariana studied the stick. She'd never seen anything like it, and had no idea what it might have to do with writing. After a moment, Finn pulled part of it off and ran the other part over the paper. It left a mark behind. "This is writing," he said. He wrote the same letters the Sea Witch had scribed on the piece of skin. "And this is your name. Can you write anything about where you're from?"

Ariana shook her head, but took the stick and clumsily copied the letters Finn had formed. "Good job," he said. He turned to his sister and her friend. "Guess writing is out. Petra, why don't you help her with those clothes? She had trouble with the T-shirt when I gave it to her to put on."

"This is ridiculous!" Jackie said. "No one is that ignorant!"

Petra took Ariana's hand and pulled her into the bedroom. She shut the door. "They'll argue for a while, but we don't have to listen to it," she said. "Now, let's see what you should try on first."

Ignoring the raised voices in the other room, Ariana and Petra passed the next while looking at the clothes. Petra patiently helped Ariana try things on, in the process teaching her how to put them on and take them off herself. When they finally emerged from the bedroom, Ariana was dressed in a pine green tank top and denim shorts. Finn's eyes widened when he saw her. "You look very pretty, Ariana," he said.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 05



"Yeah. Really pretty." Jackie sounded completely insincere. "It's a good color for her, I guess. So are we going shopping, Petra? I guess we need to replace the clothes she's borrowing."

"Jackie, give it a rest!" Finn snapped. "I don't know what your problem is, but Ariana isn't here to take advantage of anyone. She needs help, and I'm helping her."

"You're too nice. But whatever." Jackie stood. "See you later, little brother."

Petra gave Finn a peck on the lips. "Don't worry about it, Finn. She'll get over it." She followed Jackie out the door.

Finn looked at Ariana and forced a smile. "Don't worry. Jackie's always been a little overprotective of me. Did you have a good nap?"

Ariana nodded. "That's good," Finn said. "Maybe tomorrow we can go somewhere, get out of here. I mean, I'm sure you don't want to spend all your time in my apartment." He yawned. "But right now, I think I need to sleep. See you in the morning, okay?"

Ariana nodded and gestured toward the bedroom. "No, you sleep there," Finn told her. "I meant what I said. You sleep in there and I'll sleep here. It'll be fine." He pulled a lever on the side of the chair and a footrest sprang up. He pushed back against the back of the chair until he was lying almost flat. "See? I'll be all right. Good night, Ariana." 

Ariana smiled and went back into the bedroom. She thought she wasn't tired anymore, but she fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ariana and Finn grew more accustomed to each other. He worked, but taught her how to use the TV and the DVD player so she was entertained while he was gone, and took her out to see the city when he returned home at night. Although the walks they took were painful to Ariana, she never minded. At least she was with Finn. A couple of times, Petra joined them. She seemed to like Ariana, and flirted constantly with Finn, though Ariana thought it was just a game between the two of them.

After they returned home on those nights, Ariana listened while Finn talked about himself, his past, his dreams. She sensed that he didn't often open up to others, and was honored that he felt he could talk to her. She only wished she could return the favor; she wanted Finn to know everything about her, but despite her best efforts, she still could write only her name, and of course couldn't speak.

Ariana spent much of her time alone trying to decide how best to show her feelings for Finn. Her love for him deepened daily, and she was certain he felt the same, though she desperately wanted him to say so. She also continued her explorations of herself. She discovered the kind of touch that made her feel best, and experienced many more of the bursts of pleasure she'd given herself on the first evening at Finn's. Among the DVDs Finn had, she found some that showed men and women together, touching each other and doing what the people in the films called "fucking". After watching those, Ariana always felt the desire to touch herself, or better yet, to try what was in the films with Finn.

But with only two days remaining of her seven, Ariana was no closer than on the first day to winning Finn's love. He cared for her, clearly, but she needed him to truly love her and to express that love. Finally, she made a decision. She understood from watching the DVDs what Havian and Garrett had wanted from her, and she determined that she would give that to Finn. 

He came home from work exhausted and sat in his recliner. "Ariana, I'm sorry, but I'm not up to going out tonight," he said. "It was a really long day, and I just want to rest. Is that okay?"

Ariana nodded and went to him. On one of the DVDs she'd watched, a man had come home tired and his woman had rubbed his neck and shoulders. The man had seemed to enjoy it, and it had led to more. Perhaps Finn would enjoy a shoulder rub. Ariana stood behind the recliner and began to gently rub. "Mmm," Finn said. "That feels nice, Ariana. Keep going, please."

Ariana massaged his neck and shoulders, pleased with Finn's sounds of appreciation. After a few moments, she gave into an impulse and bent to kiss his lips. "Ariana?" Finn said. "What are you doing?"

Ariana replied by pressing her lips more forcefully against his. Finn pulled her around the chair and onto his lap. His tongue slid between Ariana's lips; unlike that of the Sea Witch, Finn's tongue felt pleasant against Ariana's own. The kiss brought a feeling of tingling moisture to the spot between Ariana's legs, and the feeling grew stronger when Finn's hand caressed one small breast.

Abruptly, Finn broke the kiss, though he didn't remove his hand from her breast. "What am I doing? Ariana, I'm sorry. I shouldn't..."

Ariana covered his hand with her own and smiled reassuringly. "Do you want this?" Finn asked. "Do you understand what's going to happen if we don't stop now?"

Ariana didn't understand, not completely, but she knew it would be what the men and women in the DVDs did, and she knew she wanted Finn to do that to her. She nodded and moved his hand from her breast between her legs. "Ariana," Finn moaned. "All right. All right. I've wanted you since I found you. If you want me, then okay. But in bed. This chair isn't comfortable enough for fucking."

Ariana gracefully slipped from his lap. More clumsily, Finn got up from the chair, almost falling over the footrest. Was he this flustered because of her? Now Ariana knew why he'd seemed so nervous her first night there, when he'd seen her naked parts on his bed. She extended her hand to him and he took it and followed her into the bedroom.

Beside the bed, he pulled her close against him and renewed their kiss. As his tongue explored her mouth, his hands roamed her body. He didn't touch between her legs, not yet, but his touch on even the bare skin of her legs set her body on fire. She felt as though she would explode from the pleasure of it. Growing bolder, she moved her own hands over his body, feeling his chest beneath his T-shirt, caressing his buttocks. 

Against her belly she felt something hard, and reached between herself and Finn to touch it. It was a large bulge in the front of Finn's pants. Cautiously, not wanting to hurt him, Ariana put some pressure on it. "Oh, god, Ariana, that feels good!" Finn exclaimed. "Here. Wait a minute."

He let go of her and peeled off his clothes, then helped Ariana off with hers. For the first time in real life, Ariana saw a naked human other than herself. Between his legs Finn had what the men in the DVDs had, a hard shaft with two small sacs hanging beneath them. In person, the shaft looked larger than the ones in the films. Ariana reached for them, then looked at Finn questioningly. He nodded. "You can touch. You can touch me anywhere you want," he said hoarsely. "Have you done this before?"

Ariana shook her head and cupped the sacs in her hand. Finn moaned. "Ariana, wait, please." She took her hand away, and he caught it in both his hands. "Ariana, have you ever had sex before? Ever done anything with a man?"

Again Ariana shook her head. "Are you sure you want to do this now, with me?" Finn asked. "I want to. God, I want to. But if it's your first time, it will hurt, and I don't want to hurt you."

Hurt? How could it hurt? Ariana stroked Finn's shaft and a thought occurred to her. Her fingers felt good when she put them inside her opening. This part of Finn was much larger than her fingers. If it was meant to go inside her, it would hurt; his shaft looked too big to fit into her. But she knew she wanted him to try. Wanted to join with him that way, to be as close to him as possible. She looked into Finn's eyes and smiled. "You want to make love to me?" Finn asked.

Ariana nodded. "Then lie down," Finn said. "If this is your first time, I want to make it incredible for you."

Ariana lay on her back on the bed. Finn lay beside her and pressed his lips to hers. His hand moved over her breasts and down, down to the place between her legs. He pressed a finger against her nub and Ariana caught her breath. "That feels good, doesn't it?" Finn whispered in her ear. "Ariana, you're so wet! I can't wait to be inside you, but I want to do something for you first."

He moved down the bed, leaving a trail of light kisses from her neck to the junction of her thighs. Ariana waited to see what he would do, and was astonished when his tongue touched the nub. She jumped, then relaxed into the pleasure as he licked and sucked it lightly. She felt the now-familiar sensation building, and knew she was about to burst, but had no way to let Finn know until the strong pleasure hit her, stronger than she'd felt with her fingers. She bucked, and Finn looked up with a grin. "Did you like that?" he asked.

Ariana nodded enthusiastically. Finn slipped one finger into her opening, then two. "God, Ariana, you're so tight," he said softly. "It's going to hurt when I fuck you, but I'll go slow, all right? You're still sure you want me to fuck you?"

His fingers felt amazing; Ariana was sure she was going to explode again. If his fingers brought her that much pleasure, she had to know what his shaft could do. She nodded and spread her legs wider apart, inviting him to lie between them. He accepted the invitation, covering her body with his own, and she felt the head of his shaft against her entrance. "Are you ready?" he asked softly.

Ariana replied by kissing his lips. Finn pushed his shaft forward, and Ariana felt her opening stretch to accept him. There was discomfort, but at the same time it felt so wonderful, as though she was connecting completely with Finn.

Slowly he pushed into her, then stopped. "The next bit is going to be the painful part," he said. "But it will only hurt for a minute, and then it will feel very, very good. Okay?"

Ariana nodded, and with one fast thrust, Finn was fully inside her. Tears came to Ariana's eyes at the sharp, searing pain between her legs. Finn lay still. "I'm sorry, Ariana," he said softly. "I know that hurt, but just wait and it will stop, I promise."

As he'd said, after a moment, the pain subsided. Ariana moved against Finn, and he took the hint, beginning a slow, steady motion in and out of her. "Is it okay?" he asked.

Better than okay. It was the most incredible thing Ariana had ever felt! She meet each of his thrusts with one of her own, savoring the intense pleasure, until another burst came and she opened her mouth in a soundless cry. "You came again?" Finn asked. "Damn, Ariana, you're amazing! I can't believe how good you feel!"

He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster into her, until he shouted, "I'm coming!" Ariana felt him push hard into her, then he rested on her. "That was so fucking good," he said. "Did you enjoy it, Ariana?"

He looked at her face to see her response. Ariana couldn't speak, but it occurred to her that she could still move her lips in the shape of the words she needed to say. "I love you," she mouthed.

Finn stared at her, stunned. "Ariana, no," he said finally. "No. You can't love me. You don't know me. And I- I care for you, a lot. Having you here has been wonderful. But Petra and I... God, Petra's going to kill me. Ariana, Petra and I've been dating for a long time. We're planning to get married in a couple years. I care about you, but I love Petra."

Ariana felt as though her heart was shattering. Finn loved Petra? That explained the flirting and teasing between them, but why then had Finn introduced Petra as his sister's friend, not as his girlfriend? And why had Finn entered Ariana as he had if he loved someone else? 

"Ariana, I'm so sorry," Finn said. He moved away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I can't explain. I love Petra, but I wanted to make love to you. But it can't happen again, okay?" He stood up. "I'm going to go take a shower. We can talk about this after. I need to think."

He left the room, and after a second Ariana heard the bathroom door close behind him. She got off the bed; where she had lain was a bloodstain, which she realized must have been from when Finn had buried himself in her. Just as the Sea Witch had predicted: pain and blood. 

Ariana gathered her clothing from the floor and put it back on as best she could. Her hands shook, and she fought back tears. She couldn't stay here, not anymore. Finn loved someone else, and Ariana could never gain his love for herself. There might be two days remaining of the seven the Sea Witch had given her, but as far as Ariana was concerned, her time was up. She would turn to foam, as the Sea Witch had predicted, and would never see her family again.

Once dressed, Ariana slipped out of the apartment. It was best to leave while Finn was in the shower; he might try to stop her otherwise. But there was nothing left for her, no reason to stay with him. She had come here for love, but he had none for her. Her heart was broken, and she felt her body failing her. With Finn's denial of Ariana's love, her time had indeed ended.

Fortunately, in their evening walks, Finn had shown Ariana how to get from his apartment to the harbor. She walked straight there, ignoring the looks from passers-by and the catcalls she heard from some of the men. At the edge of the water, she hesitated. This was the end for her, she knew. Mermaids had no souls; there was nothing beyond death. 

She was about to dive into the water when she heard singing a distance away. She looked out into the harbor and saw her sisters, all missing their beautiful hair. Stunned, Ariana waved to them, and they swam closer. "Dear sister," the eldest said, "we've been searching for you. Father was so saddened when you didn't return!"

"We went to the Sea Witch, and she told us what you'd done," the next said. "We made her tell us where you were."

"We gave her our hair to save you," the third told her. "She told us of a way that you can regain your true form and not crumble to sea foam if you do not win the love of the man."

"You've already failed to win his love, haven't you?" asked the fourth, who had always been close to Ariana and recognized the sadness on her face. Ariana nodded. "Then in two days' time, you will die if you do not do as we say," her sister said.

The fifth sister swam right up to the platform on which Ariana stood and held up a sharp knife. "The Sea Witch told us that your man has a true love," she said. "If you can find them together and run this knife through their hearts, you will be restored to your true self and will be able to return home."

"But you must do so tonight," the eldest said. "Go now. We'll wait for you here."

Ariana took the knife from her sister and turned it over in her hands. Stab Finn and Petra? How could she? They'd been so kind to her, Finn especially. But then he had taken the love she offered him without loving her in return. If she didn't take his life, she would lose her own.

She nodded to her sisters and set off back through the city. Would she find Finn and Petra together? If Finn had found her gone, he might have called Petra for help in finding her. They might be together now in Finn's apartment, or in his bed. Ariana set her heart against the man she loved; she had no other choice.

She turned the final corner and ahead of her saw Finn and Petra hugging on the sidewalk in front of Finn's building. It was a perfect opportunity; the way they were holding each other, it would be easy to run the knife through both their hearts. She moved slowly, carefully, toward them, thankful that neither was looking in her direction. She raised the knife, ready to strike-

And lowered her arm. No matter how hurt she felt, no matter what Finn had done to her, she couldn't bring herself to kill him and his true love.

Although Finn and Petra hadn't spotten her, Ariana had been seen. A police officer standing nearby shouted, "Drop the knife!"

Finn and Petra jumped apart. "Ariana?" Finn said. "What are you doing?"

"Looks like she was about to stab you," the officer said.

Ariana shook her head, but she couldn't bear the look of fear on Finn's face. Dropping the knife, she ran.

The officer ran after her. "Stop!" he shouted. "You're under arrest!"

He was fast, but Ariana was faster. She ran straight for the waterfront, knowing now that there was no hope for her. She had seen enough TV in her few days with Finn to know that if the officer caught her, she would be locked up in jail. There, she would die far away from the ocean. At least if she escaped, she would die near her home.

"Stop!" the officer shouted again.

For blocks he pursued Ariana. A few people tried to grab her, but Ariana dodged their hands and finally reached the water. She ran out onto one of the long platforms and, without hesitating, dove from it.

Death didn't hurt. Ariana had expected pain, but there was none. She felt her body dissolving into foam, then heard a voice, one that sounded like music, and felt her form rising from the waves. "Child, you are one of us now."

Ariana looked around. Surrounding her were dozens of transparent beings. She and they hovered above the water. She rose higher, and the beings rose with her. "Where am I?" Ariana asked, and was astonished to hear her own voice. "What's happening?"

"You are with the children of the air now," said the voice which had first spoken. "We have chosen because of your love for your man and your choice not to harm him or his lover to bring you to us. You have no immortal soul, but if you stay with us for three hundred years and perform good for the humans over whom we watch, you may gain a soul and will live forever. Do you wish to remain with us?"

"Oh, yes!" Ariana said. 

"Then so shall it be."

Ariana looked with new eyes at the city below her. At the water's edge, she saw Finn and Petra, heard them calling her name. Both had tears in their eyes. She went to them and pressed her lips to Petra's forehead, to Finn's cheek. "I wish you every happiness," she said, though of course they could not hear her. "And I wish you all love."

Then she rose with the children of the air.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 06



Once upon a time...

Calla opened her eyes and blinked a few times. She had no idea where she was, but it looked like a hospital room. The walls were stark white and as she looked around, she saw no one. The bed next to her was empty and as she began to awaken, her body was radiating pain. She winced and cried out. She tried to move, but as she looked down, she saw that there were tubes connected to her arms and as she tried to lift her legs, it felt like there was a heavy weight on each of them. Her cry must have been loud enough to summon the nurse because an older woman rushed into the room. She was wearing green scrubs. Her red hair was in a bun and her glasses were perched on the end of her nose.

"Oh my dear you're awake. Don't move I'll get the doctor."

She hit a button beside Calla's bed.

"I'm Nancy, your nurse, and yes I know that sounds funny. Once the doctor speaks to you, we'll get your family in here. They have been waiting for you to wake up."

"She's awake." From the doorway was a male voice. "I'm Dr. Hines and I'm the overseeing physician at the moment. You probably have a lot of questions so you can either ask them and I'll answer or I can just explain why you're here."

Calla stared at the doctor and was taken aback by his bluntness. His eyes were tired looking and he probably had seen so much pain and suffering that it no longer affected him.

"Tell me."

"You were in a motor vehicle collision five days ago. The car was crushed completely. You have two broken legs along with a ruptured spleen. You have a major contusion on your face that required stitches. You were in surgery for three hours. We had you in a coma to allow you to recover and as of last night you were off the drugs."

"What car accident?" Calla's mind was racing as she tried to remember the accident.

"I don't know the details. I was just told you were in a motor vehicle collision."

"Calla!" Two men rushed into the room and hugged Calla tight.

"Dad! Trevor!"

"You're awake. God you gave us a scare young lady."

Calla grinned as the men sat on either side of her bed.

"Visiting hours are almost over. I'll give you 20 minutes and then you're going to need to give her some rest. Once your legs have healed, you will be discharged. That should be in about four weeks."

Dr. Hines walked out of the room, not even smiling or saying goodbye.

"Baby we were so worried."

Calla's Dad was trying to wipe away the tears. His wrinkled face didn't hide his bright blue eyes. He wore jeans and a t-shirt.

"I'm sorry Daddy. I really don't remember the accident."

"It's O.K. sweetie. We don't care about the car. We just care about you."

"The doctor said I had a cut on my face. Is it bad Trevor?"

Trevor looked down at the ground, not wanting to look in his sister's eyes. Trevor was four years older then his sister and although there was twenty years between him and his dad, they looked very much alike. Trevor was also wearing jeans and a t-shirt and his hands were rough from his work.

"It's healing."

"That's not an answer."

Calla had always been stubborn and her relationship with her brother was very close considering their mom had died ten years ago.

Calla's dad walked over and took the mirror from above the sink. He held it delicately as he put it in front of Calla. Both father and son looked down at the ground, waiting for Calla's reaction. Calla just stared at her reflection and gasped. The cut was more like a large open wound that went from her right temple down across her cheek and ended at her chin. She had stitches all along the wound and her cheeks were bruised. When she opened her mouth she saw that she had two missing teeth. Her blonde hair was in a loose ponytail, but as she tilted the mirror, she saw a bald spot on the left side of her head. It was like her hair was burnt off. Calla put the mirror down and after pulling away the sheet, saw her arms and legs covered in cuts. She had an I.V. in her left arm and her legs were in casts from knee to ankle.

"I'm so ugly."

Calla burst into tears and Trevor tried first to comfort her. He was pushed away forcefully and as she turned on her side the men in her family knew she needed time alone.

Trevor and his dad walked slowly down the hallway of the hospital. Trevor was sixteen when his mom had died and remembered the hallways vividly. He remembered walking up and down the hall when he was told to leave his mom's room. He still had not forgiven the doctor who told him to leave right before his mom died. James walked beside his son and wondered what else was going to go wrong with his family.

Trevor and James made their way out of the hospital and got into the truck. They drove home to the motor home park and pulled into the parking spot in front of their home. It was actually a large motor home, considering the sizes of some of the other homes around them. There was a living room and dining room combined with a small galley kitchen. The front of the motor home was where James slept and in the back next to the washroom was a small room that fit Calla's bed and dresser. Trevor slept in the side room that was really a patio with walls. The men entered the home and went to their respective beds.

The next morning Trevor and James were up with the sun. They moved around the motor home quickly since they had to be at the worksite by seven. James had been a construction worker since graduating from high school and it was only assumed that Trevor would join him. Right after graduation, Trevor had begun working with his dad and they made a good team on the field. They got out to the construction site and began their work. They thought about Calla in the hospital and were excited to see her at the end of the day.

Calla woke up around eight and after calling the nurse to get her breakfast, asked to see the doctor. Dr. Hines was on duty again and he walked in and sat on a chair by the bed.

"What would you like Calla."

"I want to get out of bed so I can have a shower."

"I'm sorry Calla, but that won't be possible. Nancy can give you a sponge bath, but the casts have to stay on for another four weeks at the least."

He got up and walked out. He really despised his job, especially when he had to deal with patients that refused to understand their situation. Calla's legs had been broken in three places and she was lucky that she didn't need steel plates to reconstruct her them. The surgeon had done a great job and, sometimes, he wished he had listened to his mom and become a lawyer.

Calla picked up the phone that had been placed in her room. She had demanded she get a phone and after some arguing, she got her wish. She picked up the phone and called her boyfriend.

"Hi Sawyer. Yes I'm fine. I'd like for you to come visit me."

Calla hung up the phone and smiled. Sawyer had been her boyfriend for almost a year and she loved him dearly. He was from a rich family and had been a football player in high school. He was attending the state college so he could become a lawyer like his father. Calla loved how tall and handsome he looked. She knew she was ugly looking, but after a year she knew that Sawyer, like her dad and brother, wouldn't care what she looked like on the outside.

"Oh."

Calla looked over and saw her boyfriend at the door. He didn't even step into her room.

"I have to go Calla. I hate hospitals." 

Calla noticed that he couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Call me when you get out."

And with that, he was gone. Calla burst into tears and sobbed for almost an hour. She was an ugly duckling and she would never be pretty again.

After work, Trevor and James went to visit Calla. She was rude, bitchy, and refused to listen to their positive words. She never mentioned Sawyer's visit and realized that she would need to do something drastic to win back his love.

As the days went by, the routine was the same. She would lie in bed writing in her journal, going on and on about how hard her life was. Her dad and brother would visit her in the evenings and she would be mean to them. After an hour or so, they'd go back home.

After three weeks, Calla was disgusted at her body. She had gained a lot of weight from the hospital food. She refused to go outside her room. She hadn't left her bed for more then a few minutes a day and that was when the nurse moved her to the wheelchair so the sheets could be changed. While Calla was writing in her journal one morning, in came another patient. She hid behind her book as she listened to the nurse and doctor settle him in. The new patient's name was Derek and he had broken his leg snowboarding. He was admitted to the hospital for a few days because he was practicing his snowboarding moves at home and after falling off the coffee table one too many times, his mother had freaked out and demanded he go back to the hospital to recover.

"Hi."

His voice was deep and sexy. It made Calla blush.

"Hi."

Calla looked over and instead of him staring at her face in disgust he smiled back.

"I'm Derek. You must have heard I'm here because I'm stubborn. What's your story?"

Calla told Derek her story, including the part about her thinking how ugly she was. She left out the part about her family problems and before she knew it, her father and brother had come to visit. Derek and Calla had spent the entire afternoon chatting and it seemed like it had only been a few minutes.

The next day, Calla's nurse was shocked, but pleasantly surprised to see Calla and Derek racing down the halls in their wheelchairs. They were laughing and giggling and almost ran over a few of the patients. Nancy had never seen Calla smile before and she was happy to see Calla's spirits up.

Two days before both of them were to be discharged; it was a dark and rainy day. They had been going outside in the park area on the hospital grounds yet due to the weather and their casts, they were stuck inside. Calla was in her bed while Derek was sitting in a wheelchair with his foot up on her bed.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Calla bit her lip and grinned. She knew she was flirting with Derek over the past few days, but Derek had equally been a flirt.

"Sure."

"How ugly am I really?"

Derek blinked and saw how concerned Calla really was about her appearance.

"You are not ugly. Everyone is beautiful in his or her own way. You need to get used to that new way. I never knew you before and I find you very attractive."

Derek blushed bright red and Calla couldn't help but giggle. She leaned forward at the same time as Derek did and their lips touched. It was a soft kiss. Both were very hesitant yet the burning desire between the two of them was growing. They couldn't really touch each other because of their casts and after awhile Calla was getting a cramp in her side from leaning over. She pulled away and both of them grinned like teenagers.

The next day, they made bets on who would get their casts off first. In the end, Calla won and she walked hesitantly back to her room It felt so weird to walk again and she was thankful there was no pain. Derek was not in the room when she returned and in the confusion of packing up her things, being discharged, and being picked up by her brother, she forgot to leave her phone number for Derek.

Calla got home and was excited to sleep in her own bed. As she fell asleep, she saw on her dresser the picture of her and Sawyer. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

The next morning Calla woke up and not hearing any sound in the home, realized that her dad and brother were gone to work already. She had her first real shower and after spending hours shaving her legs, doing her nails, fixing her hair, and putting on makeup she picked up the phone to call Sawyer.

"Hi Sawyer it's me Calla. I know you said you didn't like hospitals, but I'm home now and want to know if you want to come over. Trevor and my dad are gone for the day." 

Normally this meant that Sawyer would rush over and they would have hot passionate sex until her family came home from work.

"I don't think so Calla. I saw what you looked liked the last time I was at the hospital. I think we should just end this."

"But I love you."

Calla knew she was whining, but she didn't care. She stared at the phone when she heard the click on the other end of the line. He had hung up on her. Calla spent the rest of the day crying on her bed. She wrote in her journal about how she was the ugly duckling and how no one wanted her.

"I need to be a swan again."

Calla stormed out of the house and walked the few blocks to the nearest library. She had chosen the best make up products over a computer and this was one time she realized she had made the wrong choice. She walked into the library and saw the look of disgust and sympathy on the faces of those around her. She glared at them and made her way to the public computers. She logged on and after finding the correct site began to type in her message.

My name is Calla Johnston and I'm twenty-two years old. I was in a car accident over a month ago and I am horribly disfigured. I want to go on your show to prove to the world, and to someone very special to me, that I am a swan. I am truly an ugly ducking right now and can't live my life like this.

She typed in her personal information and pressed the send button. She smiled to herself and walked home hoping they would call her soon.

***

Calla stood backstage trying to calm herself. A month ago, she had been contacted by the show and had spent the last month going through many surgeries and procedures. The first consultation with the surgeons had been horrible to her already lacking self-esteem. They went on and on about every part of her body, but in the end she agreed to all the procedures. She had had a face-lift along with reconstructive surgery to fix her teeth. She had exercised daily to lose the weight she had gained in the hospital plus more and had a breast lift and tummy tuck. Her hair had grown in to cover the bald spot and after spending hours at the salon she was absolutely gorgeous. She had chosen a red floor length gown and knew that on the other side of the dividing wall was her family. She had told the producers to invite her father, her brother and Sawyer.

She walked out and the bright lights almost blinded her. She looked around and ran into the arms of Sawyer. Her dad and brother pretended to smile, but knew what Sawyer's real intentions were. He had accidentally mentioned before the taping that he was thankful she had gotten plastic surgery since she would hopefully be pretty enough to be his wife.

Everyone around her smiled and the looks of disgust and pity were gone. She was truly a swan and she walked hand in hand towards Sawyer's car. They drove to his apartment and the moment they were inside, he kissed her.

"I've wanted this for so long baby. I want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend."

Calla grinned as she was led to his bedroom. He undressed her slowly, caressing her body as he removed her red dress and then her matching red bra and panties. His large firm hands massaged her breasts and as he latched on to her left nipple she moaned. Sawyer continued to suck on her nipple as he undressed himself. Once he was naked, he pushed her onto her back and climbed on top.

"God you're beautiful." Sawyer sank three fingers into her dripping pussy and began to push up, massaging her g-spot. He took his other hand and lightly caressed her clit. All Calla could do was lie there and moan. Her body was on fire and she was so close it hurt.

"Make me cum."

Sawyer nodded and pushed his cock inside her. He stretched her in all the right places and Calla bucked up hard. She had an intense orgasm and could only pant.

"Fuck I'm going to cum baby." Sawyer thrusted hard inside her and gripped her hips.

"Oh fuck yeah." Sawyer collapsed on top of Calla and held her face in his hands.

"Fuck I love you. You're a hot little fuck too." Calla smiled and tried to hide her disappointment. She hated how much he swore and wished he were a little bit more romantic. It wasn't that she didn't like having sex with Sawyer, but he always considered it fucking.

Before long Sawyer proposed to Calla and of course she accepted. In the past, she hadn't been invited to any of the high-class parties that Sawyer and his family were invited to, but now she was almost an honored guest. On this one night, she wore a long silver gown with high heels. Everyone knew she had been on the television show and she loved the attention. She had moved in with Sawyer and rarely had time to visit or call her brother and father. As Calla walked into the ballroom from going to the washroom, she heard Sawyer's voice.

"She's such a little hottie now. Wish she came from a better family though. Thank God she's not too bright. She hasn't caught on to me fucking other girls behind her back."

Calla barely had time to process what her fiancé had said when out of nowhere there was a flash of movement as one of the waiters tackled Sawyer to the ground. Calla approached the two men struggling on the ground and gasped.

"Derek!"

Calla watched helplessly as Derek slammed his fist into Sawyer's chin.

"You don't deserve her you asshole. She was beautiful before the surgery and you treat her like dirt." Derek tried to hit him again, but a large security guard pulled him back.

Sawyer stumbled to his feet and glared at Derek. "Stay the fuck out of my life waiter. You will never be good enough to be a guest here."

Calla stood in the silent ballroom and looked from one man to the other. There was Sawyer wiping away blood from his mouth, sneering at her like it was her fault this had happened. His words echoed in her mind. She couldn't stop the hurtful words from repeating – loser, not too bright, better family. Then she looked at Derek and saw concern and love. He had stood up for her, something Sawyer had never done.

"Sawyer. Answer one question for me. Would you have given me this diamond ring if I hadn't gone on that television show?" Calla prayed he would give her the right answer, but he didn't.

"Hell no. You were fucking ugly before the accident and the accident just made it worse. There is no way I'd be seen in public with you. The only reason I said for you to call me when you got out of the hospital was because I knew you were getting a big settlement from the car accident. Otherwise, I would have dumped you ages ago."

By this point, a circle had formed around the three of them. The crowd gasped as they heard how mean and superficial Sawyer was acting. Calla was on the verge of tears. She looked at Derek.

"Did you say I was beautiful before the surgery?" Derek nodded.

"Yes, Calla."

Calla and Derek just stared at each other. He was escorted off the premises of the country club and Calla followed. They sat on the curb next to each other.

"Can I tell you something Calla?"

"Sure."

"I've never hit anyone before in my life. I heard what he was saying about you. Every time he was there for some dinner or charity function he would go on about how ugly you were. I just couldn't take it anymore."

Calla just leaned up against Derek and when he put his arm around her and kissed her forehead she knew she was going to be O.K.

And they lived happily ever after.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 07



Once upon a time...

My friends call me Puss. I'm a private investigator. I get the goods on cheating spouses and track down deadbeats. It's not glamorous, but it pays the bills. 

I was a cop for ten years and damn good one. Then one night we responded to a fight at a dance club in the warehouse district. By the time we got there, it was a real brawl. Most of the fighting stopped once we showed up inside, but two males were still goin' at it.

My partner Rico and I tried to separate 'em, then the guy I grabbed went for my gun. I got him in a judo hold and he went limp. He was dead by the time the Paramedics got there. Turns out, he was the City Council Chairpersons nephew, so in no time the Police Department fired Rico and I. Excessive force they said. The Medical Examiner said an overdose, not that it mattered.

Rico found a job out west. Me, I got a P.I. license. 

The nickname? Some three years back I was workin' undercover to get evidence on a cheatin' husband so his wife could slap him with divorce papers. I went in costume to a Halloween party at an exclusive club where he hung out and sure enough, he was there with another woman. 

I was gettin' some good pictures of the lovebirds when some punk decided to swipe the night's receipts. I nailed him and the next thing you know I'm on live TV in my black cat outfit and stiletto boots. The crowd at McGinty's Tavern started callin' me Puss and it stuck.

My latest client is none other than Harland Christopher IV. Yeah. Those Christopher's. The electronics conglomerate.

He arrived at the office a week ago, mad enough to bite the head off a rattlesnake. He was convinced someone altered his fathers will after the old man died. He said to call him 'Ace' and I said call me Puss. 

The senior Christopher had cashed in his chips while on his honeymoon in Antigua with his 26-year-old wife. Number six in his 75 odd years. A heart attack was the official cause. Unofficially he fucked himself to death.

Anyway, at the reading of the will, Rosalie, wife number six, got a bundle as spelled out in the pre-nup. Harland II got the company, Harland III a big bundle, and my client got a few mill and a jade cat. Considerin' Daddy was worth close to 900 million bucks, my client got chump change.

He was Daddy's favorite to hear him tell it, so after the reading of the will he figured someone had loaded the dice. He didn't know squat about hirin' a P.I. and asked his chauffeur' so enter yours truly.

I told him this wasn't my usual cuppa herbal tea, but he plunked a roll of bills on the desk that would gag a python and said pretty please. I'm a sucker for blond haired, blue eyed hunks in custom made suits, so I said okay.

The answering machine's light was blinking when I walked in my office after havin' lunch downstairs at McGinty's, one message from Ace plus three from Rosalie Harland. Hearing her voice made me hot. However, I needed to focus on the case. She didn't make it easy though.

***

I met her at the Christopher mansion, an ivy covered brick pile in a part of town where houses are a mile apart behind iron gates and high walls. Ace arranged for me to talk to the mansion's staff and see if they knew anything. 

They buzzed me in at the gate and a half-mile later, I arrived. A butler met me at the door and had the staff assembled in the front hall. After talking to them individually, I determined they had no useful information. 

I figured I'd better talk to Harland senior's widow, so the butler escorted me to the parlor and said he'd tell her I was here. I was checking out the wood and leather décor when Rosalie came breezing in. She musta been in the pool 'cause she was toweling herself off, her long brown hair glistening and wearin' a bikini that barely covered her tits and pussy. She saw the look in my eye and sat next to me on the sofa.

I tried to keep my mind on the case, but this babe was pure sex. My nips got hard and my panties were wet as she slid nearer, talkin' a blue streak about how much she missed her 'cuddle bear' and how it was so lonely in this big old house, then she stopped talking.

We sat for a minute looking at each other. I reached over and caressed her cheek. She took my hand and kissed it. Something passed between us that made me feel warm inside. I pulled her close and our lips met. Her tongue slid in my mouth and we exchanged lingering kisses. Our hands began to roam and soon we were naked on the couch. She turned around and gave me a mouthful of pussy while her head went between my legs. Damn, that woman could eat. I came four times and so did she. We took a swim, lay in the sun and fucked some more. When I left, my knees were wobbly. 

***

Ace said he'd found several discrepancies in the company's financial records and could I call him. Rosalie asked if we could meet for lunch. I wanted to see her again, but back to business.

I had some contacts at the Hall of Records check out the Christopher will documents. As far as the court was concerned, they were all legal and proper. I asked if they'd send me scans of the signature pages.

One thing I did learn from the mansion staff; Ace was the old man's favorite. He had a different mother than the other two, so he wasn't close with his brothers. Harland Senior and Joan, Ace's mother, doted on him, so he led a charmed and carefree life through his twenties.

When his father brought him into the business, he locked horns with his older brothers immediately. Daddy ran interference for him, so he became a vice-president. Now that the old man was out of the picture, a nasty fight for control was brewing on the top floor of the Christopher Building.

My printer beeped and the documents came rolling out. I selected the signature pages, some examples of the old man's and the three brother's handwriting and went to see the Mole.

His real name is Jeremy Todd, but with his thick lenses, prominent nose and receding chin...well, you get the picture. Mole was one of the best forgers goin' until he tangled with some mob heavyweights over phony gold certificates. I owed him a favor so he asked me to help him do a fast fade. 

I made sure I wasn't bein' tailed and soon he was peering at the signatures, whistling through his teeth as he concentrated. I looked around at the basement where he lived thinking it was about as cozy as a sewer pipe when he said, "These are fakes."

He went into a lengthy explanation about graphology that I half-listened to; his thumbs down on the will's signatures were enough for me. I left him some cash, hopped in the Z and called Ace. A plan was forming in my mind and I wanted to run it by him. He approved and we were on our way.

***

When I sauntered into Harland II's office I was dressed in a tight miniskirt, low-cut blouse showing plenty of cleavage and a pair of 'fuck-me' boots. He practically ran around his desk to greet me, holding my hand longer than necessary to shake it and looking me over appreciatively.

"Call me 'Hugh'," he said in his smooth baritone. "All my friends do." I smiled prettily at the inference and took a seat, crossing my legs and giving him a look at my shaved pussy.

Yeah, I know. I use my sex appeal when I need to. I'm a woman, dammit and let's face it, most of the time it works.

I proceeded to tell him that Ace had hired me to check out whether the will was phony or not, but I thought he didn't pay me enough for my trouble and wondered if Hugh could make me a better offer. He agreed immediately and doubled what Ace paid me. I was to report to him what I had found out about the will's possible forgery and any moves his baby brother was making regarding the company.

He patted me on the butt as I left his office and invited me to the mansion for a drink or three. I begged off sayin' I had an appointment but I'd stop by another time. Ridin' the elevator down my heartbeat slowed to normal. I was tenser than I realized. I had figured my appearance would distract Hugh to the point where he didn't question my treachery to his brother and I was right. Or maybe it was those blue eyes...

***

When I parked behind McGinty's, I noticed my office light was on. It was off when I left.

I pulled my Glock from under the seat, walked carefully up the back stairs and down the hall. Light shone from under the door, someone was still in there.

I kicked the door open and went into a shooting stance screaming, "Freeze motherfucker!" 

Rosalie screamed and spun around in my desk chair, eyes big as saucers.

"I almost shot you! What the fuck are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"That nice man in the bar downstairs let me in," she said, lip trembling and eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean any harm. I...I wanted to see you. You never answered my call. I'm sorry."

I lay the pistol on the desk and took her in my arms; we hugged until she calmed down. "Don't ever do that again," I growled halfheartedly. She nodded and raised her tear stained face for a kiss. As our lips met, I suddenly realized she was wearing a knee-length mink coat in the middle of summer. She was naked underneath.

I dropped my skirt and blouse next to her coat and we lay entangled on the carpet, hands roving as we swirled our tongues together. She sucked my nipples and finger-fucked my gushing pussy until I had two back arching orgasms that made the room spin. When I recovered I pulled her onto my face and ate her out as she screamed lustily, riding my tongue until she filled my mouth to overflowing with her love honey.

Snuggled together, she told me the Harland brothers were at each other's throats about how to run the business, and as a result, current operations had practically come to a standstill. Hugh demanded an accounting of every penny spent since the old man died. Harland III, 'Scooter' objected. Ace kept his mouth shut.

Rosalie wanted to stay, but I kissed her and sent her down the back stairs, promising to see her soon. If what I suspected was correct, I needed to turn up the heat on our forger.

Over the next three weeks, I played Hugh like a fish on a hook, feeding him real and phony information while Ace subtly backed me up in the office. 

The brothers were still at odds, so we took it to the next level. 

Ace called Hugh and said lets grab some lunch at a hole in the wall called Antonio's in a not-so-good part of town where no one would recognize them. He wanted to discuss some accounting practices he discovered that his brother didn't know about. 

Sure enough, Hugh arrived right on time. Lunch went well and they were chattin' up a storm. Then Ace got up to go to the little boy's room and bumps into some dudes walkin' by their table. The guy Ace bumped into gets belligerent and a fight starts. Hugh boxed in college and in no time he decked two of 'em and the other one took off runnin'.

The owner wanted to call the cops, but the brothers waved him off, paid their bill and left.

I paid off Antonio and the three punch-drunk heavies from the local gym, complemented them on their acting skills and split. A little more smoke and our rat would be leaving his hole.

***

When I strutted into Hugh's office the next morning, his assistant said he was in the gym. My heart began to pound when I saw him, wearin' tight exercise shorts, sweat rolling off his broad chest, muscles ripplin' as he lifted weights.

He greeted me and asked if I exercised. I said sure and he asked me to join him. He offered me some workout clothes, but I declined and began exercisin' in my bra and panties. I had decided when I saw him I wanted to fuck him.

I wasn't disappointed.

He straddled me on the weight bench and began kissing me as I slipped him the tongue. He removed my bra and panties then I tugged his shorts down and took his thick cock in my mouth. I sucked him like a madwoman, deep throating him as he moaned and began fucking my mouth. A few minutes of this and he cried out, blasting thick cum down my throat while I swallowed eagerly.

Hugh pushed me back on the weight bench, lifted my legs on his shoulders and sucked my pussy as I screamed and quivered. His tongue on my clit drove me wild and I came almost immediately. When his thick cock spread my pussy walls I thought I would faint. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and we fucked in a frenzy of lust. He was splitting me open and I couldn't get enough.

Grunts, moans and screams bounced off the walls as we pounded against each other, my pussy tightening on his thick meat. Dripping with sweat, we hammered each other until he gasped and shot a hot load into my soaking pussy. My back arched as my orgasm hit me like a right cross. I came twice more as he continued to fuck me.

We showered together, and then I dressed and left.

***

Like I figured, after the fight Hugh and Ace became buddies, leaving Scooter out by his lonesome and he didn't like it one bit. The two brothers decided that a full audit of all company finances was in order and Scooter's objections were overruled. He raged around the offices, terrorizing the employees and generally making a nuisance of himself.

A rumor began circulating that the will was forged and there would be an investigation as soon as the authorities gathered more information. Ace's office spies told him and he really started to panic. I started the rumor of course and it had the effect that I expected.

Scooter began liquidating his assets and sending the money offshore. Due to a market slump, he was taking a beating selling off his investments but he didn't seem to care. All he wanted was out.

Ace called his brothers and Rosalie, saying he had a major announcement to make and that they needed to be in the mansion's drawing room at eight-o-clock that evening. They showed up right on time.

The gathering was painfully stilted. Hugh, Ace and I sat on one couch, Scooter, Scooter's wife Dorothy, and Rosalie on the other. Ace didn't waste any time. He told the group he had proof positive the will was forged, who was responsible and that he had already contacted the authorities.

Scooter looked like he'd swallowed a lit match, Dorothy's eyes were narrowed and her lips thin. They looked at each other, and then Scooter jumped to his feet. 

"Okay, okay, I did it," he looked at Dorothy. "I'm not taking the fall alone, it was her idea to forge the will."

"Shut up you fool," Dorothy hissed. "You always were a weakling. You let your father walk all over you. You never got the recognition you deserved. It was all about junior over there. He would have gotten everything if it wasn't for me."

She grabbed Ace's jade cat from the coffee table and whacked her husband's skull with it. He tumbled to the floor spraying blood. In a frenzy of rage, she swung at Rosalie grazing her forehead. I jumped on Dorothy and tried to disarm her. She fought like a tigress as we rolled about on the floor, Hugh and Ace trying to separate us as she tried to brain me with the cat.

Dorothy shrieked as I twisted her wrist, feeling the bones snap. The blood-covered sculpture flew from her hand and shattered on the fieldstone fireplace in a shower of glittering stones. 

Dorothy lay on the carpet, holding her wrist and sobbing. Ace lay in a widening pool of blood. I guess someone called 911 'cause right then the cops and Paramedics came bustin' through the door. They transported Scooter and Dorothy to the hospital for treatment and from there to police headquarters. Scooter was booked on forgery charges, Dorothy for forgery and assault.

Turns out the cat statue was hollow, and chock full of diamonds. Harland senior had left a treasure for his favorite son. Hugh and Ace gathered up the diamonds while Rosalie shivered in my arms. I lifted her face to mine and kissed her as she clung to me, love shining in her eyes.

***

Well, that's pretty much what happened. Ace received his rightful share of the estate plus the diamonds and bought an island in the Caribbean, leaving Hugh to run the company. Scooter and Dorothy are in separate prisons after plea-bargaining to lighter sentences. They should be out in a couple of years.

Rosalie and I held our commitment ceremony in the estates garden. We couldn't help laughing when we compared our guests. Her side looked like a formal dance at the country club, mine like the casts of 'Rent' and 'The Godfather'.

And they lived happily ever after...

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Thanks to Mistress Lynn and SweetWitch for their edits and suggestions.  



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 08



This story contains no sex. I apologise for this omission, but my characters flatly refused to partake in carnal activities for the purposes of entertainment. You may prefer to back click at this point if all you are seeking is sexual gratification.

If not, please read on!

* * *

Once Upon a Time there was a man who lived all alone in a crumbling house, with only his bitterness for company...

Just as Maurice raised his hand to knock a second time on the thick oak door, a gruff voice yelled, "Come in!" 

Straightening his tie, the old man collected his wits about him and nervously entered. 

The room was shrouded in shadow and Maurice blinked rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust to the murky gloom. It felt like a funeral parlour and the old man couldn't help but wonder when sunlight had last been allowed in; somehow he felt certain it hadn't been for a very long time.

"Is my car ready yet?" the tall man barked from his desk, not even glancing up at his guest as he scribbled away in a notebook.

"Err, no, Mr De'Ville..." Maurice coughed and shuffled on the spot like a prisoner awaiting sentencing for a heinous crime. He knew that his client was not going to react very well to the unfortunate news that his prized sports car had been damaged in an accident.

"Why the hell not? It's been over a week now!" Mr De'Ville snapped angrily, raising his head for the first time.

"Yes, Mr De'Ville, but...err...we had a few problems yesterday..." Maurice felt damp patches bloom beneath his worn suit as the man's harsh glare bore into him mercilessly.

"God damn it!" Mr De'Ville threw his fountain pen across the room and Maurice ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding being blinded. "What exactly have I been paying you for all these weeks? Tell me what has gone wrong this time?"

"My senior mechanic took the car out for a test drive and well, he had an accident." Maurice took a couple of steps backwards as Mr De'Ville's face began to turn a dangerous shade of puce. "The car sustained some damage and unfortunately it's a write off."

Maurice lowered his gaze to the dusty wooden floor, utterly unable to look Mr De'Ville in the eye. The man's reputation was known for miles around. He was ruthless and anyone who crossed him usually didn't last long.

He hadn't always been like that, remembered Maurice fleetingly, but since the tragic accident, he had changed beyond measure. The soft, kind gentleman from years ago had metamorphosed into a twisted, bitter and perpetually angry tyrant; one whom people went out of their way to avoid at all costs. 

Even his loyal housekeeper had eventually given up on him. She had left a year ago, claiming ill health as an excuse. Maurice had heard the gossip though. He knew Nelly Montana had finally given up on Mr De'Ville. She had tried to help, but his all-consuming grief had poisoned him and he continued to blame the whole world for his loss. 

"You IMBECILE!" Mr De'Ville screamed in fury. "That car was worth a fortune!" He picked up a glass paperweight and flung it with some force at the far wall.

Maurice winced at the sound of splintering glass as it shattered into a million fragments.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Maurice tried to say, but Mr De'Ville was beyond listening. He ranted about how Maurice was going to pay for his stupidity and Maurice's heart sank even lower than he thought possible. His garage business had been struggling for a while now, but after this, he knew that he would be ruined. Mr De'Ville would make damned sure of it.

When he finally gathered his courage and looked at Mr De'Ville again, much to his surprise, the hateful man was now staring at him speculatively whilst tapping a pencil on his leather jotter. Somehow this change of attitude was infinitely worse than the raging tantrum of a few minutes ago.

"You have a daughter, do you not?"

"Ye..ye..yes," stuttered Maurice as fear gripped his insides in an unrelenting vice.

"I need a housekeeper," Mr De'Ville mused almost to himself. He briefly ran a finger across the bookshelf that lurked behind his untidy desk and examined the thick layer of dust that appeared on his fingertip. "In fact, it's long over due."

Maurice didn't dare say anything for fear of further reprisals - he just wanted to go home before this unhinged lunatic lost his temper again. He cursed his weakness as the painful stomach spasms turned his bowels to water.

"What's her name again?"

"Bella, sir," Maurice whispered in a small voice.

"SPEAK UP, MAN!" Mr De'Ville yelled angrily.

"I said, her name is Bella," Maurice repeated with a little more assertiveness. What on earth could this foul creature want with his sweet Bella?

"Since you have no way of repaying the huge debt you now owe me, your daughter can become my unpaid housekeeper until I no longer require her services and your debt has been laid to rest," stated Mr De'Ville calmly, an evil smile twisting his monstrous features even further. 

His tone made it quite clear that he was not about to take 'no' for an answer and Maurice's heart fell a thousand miles. How can I send my poor, innocent, Bella to live with this beast of a man, he thought helplessly. But there seemed no way out of the terrible predicament.

"I'll expect her first thing tomorrow morning," Mr De'Ville added.

Maurice didn't know what to say. What COULD he say? If he didn't agree with the man, Mr De'Ville would ruin him like he had other tradesmen in the area. 

"She'll be here," he said in a dead voice. It was as if the sun had died and left the world in perpetual darkness. 

"Leave me now," Mr De'Ville commanded arrogantly. He picked up his notepad and proceeded to ignore Maurice as if he had in fact already left. Still shaking like a sapling in a gale, Maurice backed out of the room and tried to think of a way out of this infernal mess he had found himself in. But it was no use; the prison door had slammed shut and the key had been snatched from him. 

Now all he had to do was break the news to Bella... 

* * *

"It's okay, Daddy," Belle smiled sadly. "I know you didn't have any choice."

"But, my poor girl, I can't force you to go!"

"Honestly, Daddy, I'll be fine -- I don't mind cleaning and I'm sure he won't hurt me."

Maurice stared into his precious daughters soft brown eyes and wondered, not for the first time, how she could never see any wrong in the world. Bella was like a sparkling sunbeam that broke through the black clouds on a dark and stormy day. She lit up his world with her melodic laughter and sweet nature. 

Oh how he would miss her. 

* * *

There was a piece of paper pinned to the door when Bella arrived at eight o'clock the following morning. She silently watched the taxi drive away before unpinning the note and reading it.

Let yourself in via the kitchen. I'll be back soon.

Bella frowned. It seemed odd that Mr De'Ville would leave his house unlocked, but then she guessed that with his reputation, he didn't have much to fear. With a shrug she picked up her small bag and walked down the gravel path that led around the side of the house.

Thick ivy and rambling roses grew unkempt up the yellow stone of the old house. Belle knew from listening to idle chatter in the village that Mr De'Ville's house had once been the finest in the county.

But not any more; now it was sadly neglected and badly in need of maintenance. It wasn't as if he had no money -- it was simply that he didn't care enough to spend his money on the house. From what little Bella had seen thus far, he was obviously happy living in squalor. 

Or not happy, thought Bella.

Bella wandered through what had been, once upon a time, a rose garden. Now though, the bushes were overgrown, woody clumps. An occasional delicate flower unfurled its velvety petals in the warm sunshine, but they were few and far between; the majority were choked amongst bindweed and thistles. It made Bella want to cry. She loved gardening. Seeing the sad state of this place made her hands itch with a desire to restore its natural beauty once again. 

With a sigh, she turned back towards the house to search for the kitchen door. Eventually she found it - well hidden behind a stack of empty beer crates. It appeared that Mr De'Ville kept the local off-licence in business at least. She shoved the crates to the side of the rotting doorframe and gingerly twisted the door knob, uncertain of what she might find inside the house.

The dark room she found herself in was vast with a high ceiling and a cavernous range fireplace. The storage units were not too old fashioned, but everything was covered in a thick layer of grime and dust. Cobwebs lurked in every nook and crevice and Bella shuddered at the thought of the monstrous spiders that no doubt lived amongst them. But she was going to have to quell her phobia -- she couldn't afford to incur the wrath of Mr De'Ville and risk her father being punished any more. 

Bella left the kitchen door ajar to allow some fresh air into the stale smelling room. She walked around the large pine table and entered a small hallway that appeared to lead into the rest of the sprawling house. 

Each room that she walked past was dark and dusty. Not a chink of light passed through the heavy drapes and thick blinds. It was like the man had been entombed in his own house. Furniture was covered in sheets and cloths and there were few ornaments visible.

The only room on the ground floor that showed signs of being lived in appeared to be Mr De'Ville's study. Bella hesitantly entered the gloomy room lit only by a small lamp on the huge mahogany desk. She felt the crunch of broken glass beneath her feet and wondered what had been smashed. Judging by the large number of empty spirits bottles lying about, probably one of those, she thought with a sigh.

Upstairs was much the same. Many rooms were closed off, their windows blacked out with dusty drapes. Not one of them appeared fit for human habitation and Bella wondered where she was expected to sleep while she stayed here.

Eventually she came across what had to be Mr De'Ville's bedroom. It was the only room with a bed that looked as if somebody had slept in it recently. Trying not to feel like she was prying, Bella stepped inside and peered around the room. Clothes littered the floor while books and magazines were tossed on every available surface.

There was a small photograph beside the bed and Bella picked it up curiously. It was faded and the glass was cracked, but she could just about make out a smiling couple staring into the lens of the camera.

The man was tall, dark haired and very handsome. He looks so happy, thought Bella. His face was crinkled as he laughed. The woman beside him was looking up and smiling back, her long, pale blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight.

It was a snapshot of a happier time. Whilst Bella had never met Mr De'Ville, she guessed it was a picture of the man with his dead wife; it couldn't possibly be anyone else. They had clearly been very much in love.

The sound of a cane tip tapping on the floor attracted her attention and she turned around.

Standing in the bedroom doorway was a huge, brute of a man, his long hair unkempt and his face hidden behind a thick shaggy beard. "Stay out of here," he growled menacingly and Bella almost dropped the photograph frame in her fright.

"I'm...I'm...sorry," she tried to say, but the words got stuck in her throat.

"OUT!" the man yelled.

Bella grabbed her bag and shot past him in blind terror. 

* * *

Nathaniel De'Ville waited until Bella was out of sight, then he picked up the photo frame and stared at it for the millionth time. It was no use; it didn't matter how many times he looked at the faded print of his beloved wife, she was never coming back to him. He gave the glass a quick rub with his sleeve and replaced the frame back on his table.

The girl must be Maurice's daughter, he thought as he walked slowly down the landing, towards the staircase. When he first saw her, before she became aware of his presence, he had for one aching moment thought that his beloved Rebecca had returned to him.

But then the girl had turned around to face him and his hopes had been cruelly dashed. Rebecca was gone - he knew that in his heart of hearts - but he missed her so much. It didn't matter how much whiskey he consumed, still his heart ached like a piece of it had been cut out.

When he entered the kitchen, the girl was standing beside the back door, poised to flee.

"What's your name, girl?" Nathan said gruffly, leaning on his wooden cane.

"Bella," she replied, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I presume you've had a good look around now," he said, "so I won't need to give you the guided tour."

She nodded silently and he felt a tiny glimmer of something unexpected deep within his icy heart before a bleak image from Rebecca's funeral wiped the warmth from his body and he winced with renewed pain.

"Follow me and I'll show you where your room is," he growled, turning away from Bella abruptly. 

* * *

Bella followed the man without question. She was too scared to leave even though every bone in her body willed her to do so. Eventually, after traversing long, endless corridors that meandered through vast wings of the old house, Bella found herself staring into an attic room, high in the eaves.

Unlike the rooms she had glanced in on the lower floors, this window wasn't shrouded in fabric and so the sunlight streamed through unfettered. An old iron bedstead stood in the corner and there was a sink and a few sticks of furniture.

It wasn't the nicest room she had ever seen, but it was a whole heap better than she could have hoped for. 

"There's bed linen in a cupboard downstairs," Mr De'Ville said. "You'll find everything you need if you look."

Bella turned to face him, her fear receding now that her host had regained his temper.

"Thank you, Mr De'Ville," she said shyly.

He looked at her strangely for a moment and Bella wondered what he was thinking behind those sad eyes of his. 

He shook his head and blinked. "I'll be in my office for the rest of the day," he muttered as he backed away from her. 

Long after he had disappeared down the staircase, Bella stood in the light attic room, thinking about him. Despite her initial fright, he really didn't seem so scary now. He just seemed lost.

* * *

Nathaniel sat at his desk, trying to concentrate on his books, but no matter how hard he stared at the columns of tiny figures, it was impossible. The sweet sound of Bella's singing had somehow managed to find a way through the thick oak door of his study and penetrate right into his brain. 

Eventually he gave up all pretence of work and merely sat in his leather chair, listening. She had the most exquisite voice. It was like a siren song from myths and legends, the kind that lured ships onto rocks, causing sailors to drown. 

Nathaniel slammed his fist on the desk and grumbled with irritation. It was no use; he couldn't stand it anymore. Unwillingly, he left his office and followed the Bella's voice as it drifted out of the kitchen. As he drew closer his nose detected the scent of baking and his stomach began to growl hungrily. 

When he walked into the kitchen, he was amazed to see Bella dancing around with a mop, singing along to a pop tune playing on an old radio that he hadn't seen for years. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight that blazed through sparkling windows and her lean brown legs flexed as she moved.

She didn't notice him straight away, but when her eye finally caught his presence she stopped instantly and dropped the mop with a clatter.

"You're disturbing me," Nathaniel scowled bad-temperedly. "That damn racket is making my head hurt."

"Would you like a painkiller?" Bella asked sweetly.

Nathaniel could almost swear she was laughing at him and for an instant he was reminded of another woman who used to love to tease him mercilessly.

"No," he snapped. The image of Rebecca faded and he rubbed his temple where a vein throbbed painfully. "Just keep the racket down so I can do some damn work in peace."

He noticed the girl's sad expression and it made him angry. He didn't need her pity! He didn't need anyone. With a growl he slammed the door shut behind him as he stomped out. The music faded when he reached his study and he sighed. 

Damn the girl, he thought crossly. I should never have made her come here.

Pouring himself a hefty slug of whiskey from the bottle that resided in his drawer, he drank the strong liquid down in one fiery gulp. It burned his throat and a warm glow soothed his temper as it settled in his empty stomach. He refilled the glass and stared into the amber liquid. 

He knew he was never going to find the meaning of life at the bottom of a glass, but at least it numbed the pain. Draining the second glass, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The more he drank, the less he remembered. It was infinitely better that way.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time Bella dished up some food on two plates. The cake she had baked stood on the scrubbed table, iced and ready to slice. The rest of the kitchen was tidy but for a few pots left to wash.

Bella smiled happily. She had worked like a demon over the last two weeks. Not a cobweb or speck of dust remained in the main rooms and although she had plenty of rooms left to clean upstairs, she was making great progress.

The larder and fridge were now full of food. When she had first examined them, she had been shocked. A hard lump of cheese had sat in solitary splendour in the fridge and the larder was virtually empty too. 

* * *

"You have no food," she had tentatively told Nathaniel when she finally located him in his study.

"Well buy some!" he had yelled crossly.

Bella had refused to be intimidated by his foul temper. "I have no money," she pointed out in a reasonable voice.

Nathaniel raked his hand through his unruly hair and closed his eyes. She wondered fleetingly what he would look like with a haircut and a shave. Then he opened his eyes again and caught her staring and she blushed. Thankfully the room was so gloomy that he probably couldn't see her pink glowing cheeks.

"I have an account at the village store," he said impatiently. "Order anything you need and charge it. They'll deliver. Now go away and leave me alone!"

* * *

Bella eyed the cake as she placed Nathaniel's plate on a tray. Making a decision, she quickly cut a thick wedge and added it to the tray, along with a glass of milk. He probably wouldn't eat most of it, but at least he couldn't accuse her of not doing her job.

There wasn't a murmur from the study when she reached the closed door. Gingerly she placed the tray on the floor and knocked softly. There was still no sound, so she carefully opened the heavy door and peeked in.

Nathaniel was asleep. His head rested on the desk and an empty whisky bottle lay on its side nearby. The room reeked of alcohol and Bella longed to open the tall window and let some fresh air in, but she knew it was more than her life was worth. He hated the light; he said it gave him a headache.

With a sigh, she picked up the tray and placed it on the side table, near enough so that he would notice it when he awoke again. She just wished he would eat properly. He was a big man, but beneath the old, shapeless clothes he wore day in and day out, he was painfully gaunt and thin.

Nathaniel's eyes flickered in sleep. He moaned slightly as Bella stood over him and she wondered what he was dreaming about. Somehow she suspected they weren't happy dreams. But her own dinner was cooling in the kitchen, so she left him to his dreams and shut the door behind her quietly. 




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 08



* * *

When Nathaniel woke up several hours later, his head pounded like the four horseman of the apocalypse were galloping around inside it, wreaking havoc and mayhem. With a groan, he sat up, and the room lurched alarmingly when he blearily opened his eyes and attempted to focus on the small clock that hung on the wall.

It was well after midnight. Not unusual really; he often fell asleep at his desk these days. This time, however, the smell of food tickled his nose and he turned to see a tray with a plate on it, sitting on top of the table beside the filing cabinet. 

Gravy had congealed over the potatoes, but the pie still looked appetising, so he picked the slice up and hungrily ate some of the tasty pastry. It was delicious. Nathaniel hadn't realised how hungry he was until the flavour burst on his tongue. He wolfed the majority of the meal down and, slowly, the hangover that held his head in a grim vice began to recede. 

The glass of milk was warm, but it still tasted better than the finest malt whiskey. Then he noticed the cake. It had been a long time since he had tasted cake. Nelly had always baked when she'd lived here, but since Rebecca's death, Nathaniel hadn't exactly cared for nice things and eventually Nelly had given up baking and left him alone.

His mouth watered as he contemplated the thick slice of chocolate sponge. Deciding it seemed churlish to waste it he picked the cake up and took a large bite. The soft, light sponge was like heaven in one single mouthful. It was the most amazing cake he had ever tasted; so rich and decadent he thought he might die from the sugar rush. In less than five mouthfuls the cake had vanished and for the first time in a very long time, he actually felt something bordering on contentment.

When the food had been consumed, Nathaniel picked up the empty tray in one hand and carried it back to the kitchen. He turned on the fluorescent light and his eyes took in the gleaming surfaces and clean floor for the first time since Bella had arrived. It was stunningly obvious how hard she had been working and for a moment he felt horribly guilty for dragging her away from her home to toil for him.

Then his heart hardened. Her father, Maurice, still owed him a debt, and the girl had to pay -- it was that simple. He dropped the tray on the table with a clatter, uncaring of the crumbs that fell down on to the spotless floor. As long as she continued to stay out of his way, they would get along just fine.

* * *

The empty tray that rested on the kitchen table gave Bella pause for thought the following morning. She had not really expected Nathaniel to eat the meal she had left for him; most days he barely touched anything she went to the trouble of cooking. Not that she minded - she enjoyed cooking anyway and since it was his food, he was perfectly entitled not to eat it.

But it was nice to see an empty plate for once, even if she knew she would never hear a word of thanks for it. Quickly she tidied the dishes away and made herself a cup of coffee to take outside. 

The sun was already beating down from a brilliant blue sky despite the early hour. A few tendrils of wispy mist still lurked in the shade beneath the crumbling wall that surrounded the perimeter of the rose garden. Bella sat down on a rickety wooden chair and watched with enjoyment as the birds pecked at the crumbs she had thrown for them.

It was truly a beautiful place despite the aura of sadness that hung over everything in a veil of melancholy grey. Bella could only imagine how it must have looked in another time...a happier time.

She drank the rest of her coffee and tossed the dregs out on to the parched soil. She didn't have time to think about sad things. There were too many chores to do before Nathaniel surfaced.

* * *

Bella knelt amongst the neglected rose bushes and tugged at the virulent weeds that sprouted everywhere. The small trowel she had found in a ramshackle shed had proved to be next to useless and it was now lying abandoned on the path. Instead, she had resorted to using her bare hands. 

The sun beat down on her head, but she didn't care. She was determined to restore this garden to its former glory even if it killed her. Ruefully she paused to rub her sore hands and wished she had also found some gardening gloves. It was already on her list of things to buy next time she put an order in to the store.

She was so busy trying to yank a particularly well-embedded thistle from the hard baked soil, that it was a while before she realised Nathaniel was watching her from the shade of the kitchen porch. 

"There're some gloves somewhere," he commented eventually.

Bella wiped the sweat from her brow and squinted at him. "I looked, but I couldn't find any," she said with a lopsided smile.

He didn't say anything more so she returned to her task. Next time she looked up, he had reappeared and was standing nearby, holding a pair of soft leather and canvas gardening gloves. 

"Use these," he told her as he threw them in her general direction.

Bella picked them up and examined them. They were small, definitely women's size, and not new. They had moulded to the shape of another woman's hands and she had a sudden intuition that these gloves must have belonged to his dead wife.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. 

"Your hands are bleeding," Nathaniel said as she stood, intending to go and wash the filth off before she put the gloves on.

Bella shrugged and headed into the kitchen. She stood at the sink with her hands held under the taps and watched the reddish brown water swirl down the plughole. 

Nathaniel placed a bottle of antiseptic on the counter with a force that made her jump.

"Don't want you dying of tetanus," he said when she looked at him curiously. "Give me your hand."

Despite his size and demeanour, his touch was unexpectedly gentle. The stinging of the antiseptic on her multiple scratches hurt like hell, and she couldn't help but wince.

"Don't be such a baby," he admonished sternly.

"Ouch!" she cried as he dabbed a particularly deep cut on her wrist.

"Well you should have asked me for some gloves before you tackled all those thistles."

"I might have if I wasn't convinced you would bite my head off." As soon as the words left her mouth Bella knew they were a mistake.

Nathaniel's eyes turned icy cold and he dropped her hand like he had been burned. "You'll be fine," he said stiffly as he screwed the cap back on the bottle of evil smelling antiseptic.

Bella sighed sadly as she watched him leave. It was the first time he had shown any friendliness towards her and now she and her big mouth had blown it. Suddenly she felt horribly homesick and she wished she could leave. But she didn't dare incur Nathaniel's wrath again. No, she would just have to be patient and wait until her father's debt was repaid. How long that was going to be she had no idea, but she supposed Nathaniel would tell her at some point.

She took the leather gloves that were lying on the table and put them on her sore hands. They were thick and soft against her scratched skin and she felt better immediately. It was time to have another crack at the rose garden. The day was running away from her already and she had barely made an impact.

Once back out amongst the thorny bushes, Bella forgot about Nathaniel and her father as she pulled out endless weeds and threw them into a bucket. As the sweat trickled down her neck in the blazing sun, she was oblivious to Nathaniel watching her from an upstairs window.

* * *

Nathaniel was surprised to find himself standing in the kitchen doorway again. It was early evening and he was normally deep in work by now with a half open bottle of whiskey on the desk beside him. But tonight he had, without really thinking about it, followed his nose towards the appetising smell of cooking, instead of in the opposite direction of his office. 

Bella was stirring a large pot on the stove when he awkwardly coughed from the doorway. I'm being ridiculous, he thought with a faint spark of amusement. It was his home, yet he felt like the guest. 

"Are you hungry?" she asked, throwing him a radiant smile.

"A bit," he said grudgingly. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She lit up the room like a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night.

"Sit down and I'll dish you some stew up," she said, still smiling at him.

Obediently he took a seat at the table and wondered what the hell he was doing. When the plate was placed before him, hunger took over and he tucked in to the delicious food with an appetite he hadn't felt for a very long time.

"More?" Bella asked with a grin when his plate was empty.

Nathaniel shook his head reluctantly and she took the plate from him. There was no way he could eat another morsel. He watched her in silence as she stood in front of the sink, washing the few pots that remained. 

She was wearing a pair of cut off denim shorts and he found his gaze unwillingly drawn to the smooth skin of her tanned thighs. 

Suddenly it was unbearably hot in the large room and he needed to escape. Unfolding his large frame from the small chair, Nathaniel mumbled something unintelligible and clutching his cane, he left the claustrophobic room as hurriedly as he could manage with his bad leg. The last thing he saw was Bella's look of hurt surprise as she turned back towards him with an expectant smile on her pretty face. 

Once back in the familiar surroundings of his study, Nathanial pulled out a full bottle of whiskey and poured a large glass. He drained it in one before sitting back in the chair with his eyes closed.

Bella confused him. She made him feel things he didn't want to feel. For so long now his heart had been a frozen chunk of ice in the wake of Rebecca's death. Now though, tiny hairline cracks were beginning to appear in his self protective shield and he wasn't so sure if this was a good thing.

Feelings led to pain. He had loved Rebecca with all his being and when she was unfairly taken from him, the agonising pain had nearly killed him. The only thing that kept him alive was the notion that somebody should pay for what had happened.

But as time passed, he slowly came to the understanding that her death had been a cruel twist of fate and there had been nothing he could have done to prevent it. By then the suicidal urges had passed and he was left living with a black depression and self hatred that he directed at every being he came across. 

Bella had somehow managed what every other person had failed to do. By virtue of her sweet and non-judgmental nature, she had broken through his veneer of self preserving nastiness and found the last traces of the man he had once been. 

As the days passed, it was becoming harder and harder to maintain the anger and bitterness that he had cultivated for the last seven years. His defences were tumbling; he felt vulnerable and it scared him witless.

* * *

The weeks passed slowly, but Bella was happy despite her enforced isolation in Nathaniel's home. She filled her days with cleaning and gardening, and for the most part she was content. 

Nathaniel was gradually becoming less distant and she had noticed he wasn't drinking half as much as he used to. He had begun to eat more and his demeanour had gradually changed from outwardly hostile, to almost pleasant.

He still seemed awkward around her, but she enjoyed his thoughtful company when he chose to sit and watch her as she toiled away in the rose garden every chance she had. 

It was taking shape, slowly and painfully. She had dug most of the weeds out and pruned many of the surviving bushes back to the new shoots. A few of the dead bushes were still waiting to be exhumed from their graves, but the soil was baked hard as concrete from endless days of hot sun and little rain and Bella struggled with the task.

This was one afternoon when she had decided to have a go at digging out a particularly embedded bush that had given up the will to live quite some time ago. Beads of salty sweat trickled down her back as she patiently excavated soil from around the brittle roots.

Her hair was tied back in a knot, but strands had begun to escape from the confines of the elastic and she impatiently brushed them away with a dirty hand. Eventually the roots were completely exposed and dropping the spade to one side with a clang, she grasped hold of the woody trunk of the bush, and pulled.

Sharp thorns scratched her skin as she heaved. Her foot was wedged against a large stone and she felt the roots give slightly, but still the bush remained entrenched in the ground. It appeared unwilling to release its tenacious grip on the soil from which it once drew life.

Bella swore loudly and released her hold. Her back ached and she was beginning to wonder if maybe this job was beyond her. God she needed a drink; her mouth was parched.

When she stood upright and stretched, trying to relieve the kink in her spine, she heard the kitchen door bang on the wall. Nathaniel appeared dressed in his customary grey garb.

He stared at her as she wiped some of the sweat from her forehead. "You don't have to do this," he said with a frown.

"Do what?" She squinted at him, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun.

He gestured towards the garden. "That. It's too much work for one slip of a girl."

Bella laughed good-naturedly. "I don't mind hard work," she grinned as she removed the gloves and examined the numerous scratches on her brown arms. "Father lets me keep the vegetable garden at home." She frowned at the sudden realisation that her garden would be in a terrible state by the time she returned home again. 

Homesickness pangs bit deep inside her and she wondered what Father was doing now. She hoped he was taking care of himself in her absence. 

"I can help you pull the dead ones out." 

Nathaniel's terse statement caught Bella unawares. She looked at him in surprise. "That would be good," she smiled gratefully, "but what about your dodgy leg?"

"I'll be okay if I'm careful," he replied.

She watched doubtfully as he ventured out across the garden. He towered over her slight frame when he stood next to her, looking at the remains of the dead rose bush with its blackened stalks and desiccated stem.

"She loved her roses," he said softly. "I let them die, just as she did." His last words were barely a whisper in the still, oppressive air.

"I can plant some new ones," Bella said gently. "The roses will bloom again with a little love."

Nathaniel turned to look at her. His eyes were watery with unshed tears and Bella had the sudden urge to take him in her arms to share some of the burden of his anguish. 

Then the moment passed. He propped his cane up against the adjacent bush and braced his good leg on a stone. Leaning forward, Nathaniel took a hold of the recalcitrant stem. As Bella watched, he pulled it hard. With a creak, the roots finally relinquished their anchors. Nathaniel balanced himself again and tossed the dead bush to one side before brushing the soil from his hands.

"Thank you for helping me," Bella said as she surveyed the large hole that had been left behind. He had saved her considerable effort and for that she was most grateful.

Nathaniel shrugged. "When you're ready I'll pull the other dead ones out," he said and then he limped off back towards the kitchen.

Bella smiled to herself. She had a feeling that the wall he had built around himself was finally crumbling and she was pleased. No man was an island after all.

* * *

Nathanial limped into the shop to pay for his diesel, lost in thought. He approached the counter and paused. Jackie, the woman who worked behind the counter, eyed him warily. She had felt the sharp edge of his temper before and she clearly had no desire to suffer another caustic outburst.

"Will there be anything else with the fuel?" she asked carefully.

"Yeah," Nathaniel said thoughtfully. "I'll take some of those chocolates over there." He pointed to a display of dark chocolate truffles that were on special offer. 

Bella's sweet tooth was something he'd noticed over the time she had stayed in his house. There seemed to be a never ending supply of cakes and biscuits that she baked; most of which she ate without his help. Not that you'd notice from her size, he thought with a smile. There was nothing on the girl.

When he returned his attention to Jackie, her mouth was gaping open in astonishment at his request.

"Now would be good," he snapped crossly and she jumped, almost choking on her chewing gum. When he'd paid for his fuel and taken the chocolates, he went back outside into the bright sunshine. 

It was another fine day and the fields stretched for miles in the clear air. The sound of a tractor could be heard rumbling in the distance and he watched the gulls wheeling high above, waiting for whatever turned up in the freshly tilled earth.

"Milk," he muttered with irritation as he placed the chocolates on the passenger seat of the truck. Bella had asked him to fetch some milk as they were nearly out. Damn. Now he had to go back in to the shop and see that sour faced old hag again.

He grabbed some change from the small tub in the truck and headed back inside the shop for the second time.

"...aint never seen him like this before," Jackie was saying to old man Norris who slouched beside the magazine rack with an expression of glee on his craggy face.

"I reckon it's since Maurice's daughter's been living with him. Guess he's finally getting some!" Jackie burst into raucous laughter and was soon joined by Norris's wheezing chuckle.

The pair of them turned a whiter shade of pale when they saw Nathaniel looming in the doorway with a look of fury on his face. 

"Pint of milk," he growled in a low, dangerous voice.

"Ye...ye...yes, Mr De'Ville," Jackie stuttered as she struggled to pull a plastic milk carton from the fridge with a shaking hand.

Nathaniel threw the change at her, grabbed the carton, and stormed off outside again. Once in his truck, he drove off the forecourt with a squeal of rubber and floored the pedal until the fields passed by in a blur of yellow ochre and sienna. 

Eventually his temper faded and he calmed down. He supposed in many ways Jackie was right. He had been happier of late and that was due entirely to Bella's influence. The shiny box of chocolates caught his eye and he smiled as he thought about how delighted Bella was going to be when she saw them.

* * *

Bella popped a truffle in her mouth and swooned as the sweet chocolate melted on her tongue in an explosion of flavour. "Mmmm," she mumbled as she crammed another two in her mouth.

Nathaniel watched silently from the doorway, surprised at how much he was enjoying Bella's delighted response to his simple gift.

"Are they for me?" she had gasped with shocked delight when he gave the box to her.

"Just thought you might like them," he replied, slightly embarrassed. 

"Ooh I love chocolate," Bella confirmed as she took the box and immediately opened the ribbon that bound the lid on. 

"Work to do," Nathaniel said as he backed out of the room. She was oblivious to him now; her attention had been completely consumed by the sweets on the table. The pleasure of seeing her so entranced sent a warm glow through his heart. It had been a long time since he'd given a gift to anyone. 

He would miss Bella when she left his house. With a sigh he left her to eat the rest of the chocolates. 

* * *

When the top tray was empty, Bella sat back in her chair and wished she had had the self restraint not to gorge herself. She felt slightly sick now and she knew it was all her own fault. 

She was still stunned that Nathaniel had given the chocolates to her. Although she had sensed his change of attitude towards her, he still had a sadness about him that hadn't entirely disappeared. If only he could let go of the past, she thought as she stood and remembered she hadn't finished cleaning upstairs. 




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 08



Bella pushed the box to one side with a sigh and headed back up the stairs. Grabbing the soft cloth she had abandoned earlier, she continued to dust her way along the landing. Most of the rooms in this part of the house were empty but for a few old pieces of furniture covered with sheets. When she reached the last room on the left, Bella saw that the door was closed. It wasn't a room she had ventured in before and she turned the handle and walked in, fully expecting to see yet another empty space full of dust bunnies and cobwebs.

The sadness in the room was almost palpable as she gazed around at the poignant reminders of a child who never was. A painted white cot stood in the centre of the room with a mobile suspended above it. The brightly coloured butterflies caught a sliver of light from the chink in the blind, their delicate wings doomed to perpetual stillness in the dusty atmosphere.

Belle wanted to cry at the tragedy of the empty nursery. No wonder Nathaniel was so embittered and full of despair. She couldn't begin to imagine how it must have felt for him to lose not only his wife, but also his unborn child.

Details of the tragedy were sketchy in her memory as it had been more than seven years ago, but she remembered that there had been some kind of car accident out by the reservoir, but she wasn't certain.

Not that any of that mattered. His life had been ripped apart and he had taken his pain out on those around him. 

"What are you doing in here?" 

Nathaniel's hoarse voice frightened Bella and she spun round in shock. "I was cleaning and this door was shut, so I opened it...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry..." The words tumbled out in a rush and she cursed herself for having entered the closed room.

Nathaniel seemed not to have heard her as he stared around, his face teeming with emotions she couldn't begin to read.

"I kept the door shut for a reason," he said almost to himself. "It was easier."

"Maybe it's time to move the things out?" Bella ventured carefully. 

"Maybe you're right," Nathaniel replied. He continued to stare pensively around the room and Bella felt his pain like it was her own.

"I could do it for you?" she suggested, wishing she could do something more to help.

"You've done too much already," he said with a wan smile. "It's something I need to do myself -- I should have done it a long time ago, but I couldn't bring myself to look at it all. It was too..." His voice broke and he looked away.

"You're not alone," Bella told him as she stepped near and took hold of his hand tightly.

For a moment Nathaniel looked stunned, but he made no move to retrieve his hand. Then the tension in his body evaporated and the ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

"Thank you," he said softly.

* * *

Nathaniel tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. He hadn't touched the whiskey for days now; he hadn't felt the need to anaesthetize his pain for the first time in what felt like forever and he recognised that it was all due to Bella.

He was beginning to feel things for her that he hadn't thought he would ever feel again. After Rebecca's death, his heart had been ripped out, leaving a bloody, open wound in what remained of his tortured soul. In order to survive, he had become the cold, bitter man he had been for the last seven years. 

Bella had been the catalyst for a thawing of his frozen emotions and he knew now that it was finally time to move on with his life. At some point Bella would be leaving him, but a huge part of him hoped it wouldn't be soon. He loved having her around. Her cheerful smiles and melodic singing brightened up his day far more than anything else could.

It was frightening how badly he had come to need her, to rely on her.

The birds began to chirrup noisily outside and with a sigh Nathaniel hauled himself up and grabbed hold of his cane that resided next to the bed. Once he was dressed, he made his way downstairs and limped into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

To his surprise, the kettle was already hot. The back door was ajar and when he stepped outside, he saw Bella sitting in a patch of sunlight, sipping a mug of coffee, and crying.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed wretchedly when she realised he was standing there, watching her. "I just got thinking about Daddy and now I'm sad." She wiped her eyes on the edge of her vest tee shirt.

Nathaniel couldn't help but notice the glimpse of tanned stomach she exposed as the tee shirt lifted up. He looked away immediately, conscious of the sudden heat that flooded his veins.

"But I'll be fine," she said firmly as she stood.

"You're homesick," Nathaniel said softly. He felt horribly guilty as he watched her trying to hide her feelings -- and failing miserably.

"A little," she admitted. She traced a circle in the dirt with the toe of her pump and stared across the garden. "Daddy isn't good at gardening," she said. "He won't be taking care of my vegetables."

"Would it help if you went home for a couple of days?" Nathaniel could hardly bear the thought of her leaving, even if it was only for two days, but he felt that he had to say the words.

When he saw the way her face lit up with delight at his suggestion, he knew he had done the right thing. The fact it was killing him already was something he would have to deal with.

"Thank you," Bella squealed as she covered the space between them and threw her arms around him tightly. He only just managed to keep his balance. 

"I'll be back in two days -- I promise!"

"You better," Nathaniel replied gruffly as he allowed his free arm to slip around her waist. She felt so delicate in his grasp; like a precious rose. It was the first time he had held another human being for seven years and he suddenly realised how much he had missed this simple human contact.

* * *

When he dropped her at the end of the track that led up to her home, he slipped the truck into park and waited for her to jump out. To his surprise, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly.

"Thank you," she whispered again softly. He could smell the sweet scent of her perfume as it wafted past his nose and for a moment he forgot where he was. Then before he could say anything, she was gone. 

He watched sadly as Bella galloped up the rough track like a gazelle. Her long hair flew behind her as she ran and Nathaniel felt utterly bereft as she disappeared beyond the tall conifer hedge that screened the farm from the road.

* * *

The house was as silent as a grave that night and for the first time in a while, Nathaniel found himself opening another bottle of whiskey. The amber liquid burned like fire as it slid down his throat, but after three more glasses, the black demons that had clamoured inside his head all day finally began to recede and he slowly relaxed. Bella had promised she was coming back and he would just have to be patient. By tomorrow evening, she would be with him and her merry laughter would once again light up the dark corridors of his house. Before the bottle was finished he was asleep, snoring loudly as he slept on the desk. 

When morning arrived with a cacophony of bird song, his head was pounding like a road drill and he was ravenously hungry. It belatedly occurred to him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day. 

He dragged his weary body into the kitchen in search of food. Bella had left some bacon in the fridge and feeling marginally better he fried some rashers and wolfed them down between slices of thick home made bread. Only a few more hours and Bella would be back...

As he passed by the hall mirror, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and realised he was grinning like an idiot. Then he halted abruptly and took a step backwards to contemplate his shaggy hair and unkempt beard. It had been a long time since he had really taken any care over his appearance and with a sense of shame he realised how he must look to other people. No wonder Bella had been scared half to death the first time she had clapped eyes on him -- he looked like a half man, half bear, hybrid.

Nathaniel grimaced in disgust. It was about time he had a shave and a hair cut. With that aim in mind, he headed upstairs to the bathroom and proceeded to attack his unruly mop of hair. By the time he had finished, he barely recognised himself. The transformation was astonishing. He actually looked human again. 

His skin was pale where it had been previously been covered in copious hair, but since he had rarely ventured outside in the last few years, the rest of his face wasn't exactly tanned, so it didn't look so bad.

His black hair was streaked with grey strands, but with the aid of some old hair clippers he had cut it fairly short so that now it actually looked tidy and presentable. He looked so different that he almost didn't recognise his own reflection. 

If only I could do something about my leg, he thought wryly. But despite several bouts of surgery following the accident, there had been nothing more the surgeons could do. They told him he would have a permanent limp, although at the time, he hadn't cared one iota. He had only wished he was dead, too.

* * *

The nursery was as he had left it when he walked through the door. It was still painful to be in the room, but he realised that the time had come to clear it. Bella would have done it for him -- he knew that -- but it was something he needed to do himself. It would be cathartic in a painful way. 

Nathaniel pulled the pale blue blind up and turned to see the dust particles dancing across the room on yellow slivers of sunlight. The butterfly mobile that still hung above the empty cot began to twirl in languorous circles as he watched mesmerised. For second he swore he heard a soft feminine voice singing a lullaby, but then the moment passed and he was left with the sound of silence again. With a sigh, he began to pack away the contents of the room. Eventually he would store them in one of the outbuildings; maybe a local charity would be able to make use of them. 

It took a while to dismantle the cot, but eventually Nathaniel was left with a few boxes and the portions of cot stacked against the wall. It hadn't been easy tackling this task, but he felt like a weight had lifted from his shoulders now that it was over.

Outside, the sun had dropped low in the sky and clouds were beginning to gather on the horizon. Nathaniel gazed at the vermilion streaks that bathed the tall cypress trees in coppery light and felt the sullen heaviness in the air. There was a definite sense of something brewing. Given that his leg had been aching for the past half an hour, he guessed a storm was hovering nearby.

Deciding to leave the boxes for now as they were difficult to move with his leg the way it was, Nathaniel pulled the window shut and closed the door behind him. It was time to eat -- he hadn't bothered all day and now he was extremely hungry.

Since he had no idea what time to expect Bella, he decided to start cooking a meal that would provide enough food for both of them. If she had already eaten when she arrived, then the food could be eaten the next day. He wasn't the world's best cook, but he could just about throw a basic stew together and there were more than enough supplies in the cupboards.

The radio that Bella always listened to was next to the microwave. Deciding that he fancied some background noise beyond the ominous rumble of distant thunder, Nathaniel turned the dial until he located a station that was debating politics. He began to peel vegetables as he half listened to the radio host and his belligerent guests.

Soon the stew was in the oven and he was left with nothing much left to do other than stare expectantly at the clock on the wall. The more he watched the brass hands, the slower they seemed to move. Eventually it felt like time had ceased completely. It was incredibly frustrating.

By the time the meal was ready, he had lost his appetite. It was growing darker outside and still there was no sign of Bella. Already his ever-present demons were clamouring in his ear, insisting that she wasn't coming back, despite her earnest protestations before she had left.

Why would she want to come back to you, they whispered insidiously. You're a sad, bitter, twisted fool, who doesn't deserve a sweet girl like Bella.

Nathaniel threw his empty mug across the room and watched in despair as the dregs of coffee splattered on to the tiled floor. The voices were right. Of course she wasn't coming back -- she had lied. He should have known better than to believe her. There was nothing in this house that a beautiful girl like her would want. He was crippled and useless; he couldn't give her anything.

He hung his head and wallowed in self-pity as lightning forked across the black sky. The electricity flickered off for a millisecond before the lights flared brightly again and the radio burst back into life. Rain began to pelt against the windows in grey sheets as Nathaniel sank into a deep depression.

When the power went off again, he barely noticed. Uncaring of the darkness that had fallen prematurely, he stood and walked into the pantry, feeling his way along the top shelf where all the oddments that never usually saw the light of day lived. When his hand found the smooth bottle that he had hidden months ago, he smiled bitterly.

By the time the bottle was empty, Nathaniel was feeling no pain. He drained the last of the fiery liquid and watched the storm through the kitchen window, lost in his memory of another time and another place...

* * *

"Slow down!" Rebecca implored with a trace of fear in her voice as the car sped round the tight country lanes. 

"We're already late," reminded Nathaniel as he glanced at the luminous dial on the dashboard. 

He ignored her audible gasps as the small car took each hairpin bend at breakneck speed. The tyres struggled to grip the greasy tarmac as the rain hammered down from a leaden sky and thunder rumbled ominously.

By the time they reached the old bridge that spanned the swollen river, lightning cleaved the sky in bright flashes of light and the rain had increased ten fold. It was a foul night and for a moment Nathaniel wished he had listened to Rebecca and declined the invitation to the fund raising dinner for the local community hall. Despite the fact that last night it had seemed important to go, right now he wished they were safely at home.

The black water swirling and seething below the iron bridge sent a sudden ominous premonition through his veins and he shivered despite the heater blasting out around his legs.

"We won't stay long," he promised as he turned to glance at his wife.

Rebecca threw an accusatory look at him and he felt irritation rise once again.

"Oh come on," he snapped, "it's not like we go to these things every fucking week!"

"If you had your way we would!" she flung back at him, her green eyes flashing with anger in the darkness.

Before he could retaliate he felt the car slide and he immediately glanced back at the road. A huge fallen tree lay across the path of car with its jagged branches clawing at the angry sky like demonic fingers.

Nathaniel tried desperately to wrench the steering wheel sideways in a vain attempt to avert the car from its collision course, but the wheels refused to respond as water flooded across the road from an overflowing tributary.

He was vaguely aware of Rebecca screaming as the car impacted into the tree and he felt a white hot pain sear down the side of his thigh. Then everything faded to black and there was nothing.

* * *

Gentle hands pulled him from the wreckage of the car and he tried to speak, but the words refused to form coherent sentences as the icy rain soaked his shirt. He could feel stickiness all across his face, but there was no pain, just a sense of lethargy.

"Soon have you in hospital," the man in the uniform said cheerfully as the fear began to grip him. He couldn't hear his wife screaming any more and he turned feverishly in an attempt to see what had happened to Rebecca. It was only then that he realised she wasn't beside him; all that remained of her was a blood soaked seat twisted amongst crushed metal. 

"Rebecca!" he tried to cry helplessly, but still the words refused to come. He felt hands lift him on to a stretcher and he was moved away from the wreckage of his car. He twisted his head as the yawning doors of the ambulance beckoned and he saw Rebecca lying on the road, lifeless, as one of the paramedics knelt over her.

It was then that he knew. 

She had gone and it was his fault. He had not only killed her -- he had murdered their unborn baby. He wished with all his heart that he had died too for he didn't see how he could possibly go on without her.

* * *

Nathaniel kicked open the kitchen door, oblivious to the rain that fell in grey curtains from a leaden sky. He stumbled out into the garden and roared helplessly as the pain and guilt threatened to overwhelm him. Eventually his anger faded and he was left feeling hollow and empty as the cold seeped through his skin and chilled him to the bone.

As the water sloshed down his neck, he turned to go back inside the house but his cane sank into a muddy hole and he fell sideways, landing awkwardly in a heap. The alcohol dulled his reflexes and he was not fast enough to prevent his head smacking the ground, hard. He faded from consciousness with a sense of despair.

* * *

Bella urged her father to drive faster, but he ignored her pleas. "There's too much water on the road to be taking chances," he said sensibly. "Besides, I don't know why you're going back anyhow."

"Because I want to," Bella snapped stubbornly. She knew he didn't understand her wish to return. He had repeatedly insisted that she did not need to go back, but Bella was adamant. "He needs me," she said in a voice so low that her words were lost in the swish of the windscreen wipers struggling to cope with the deluge.

The fact she was far later than she had intended to be was bothering her. She knew Nathaniel would think she had changed her mind and it worried her. If it hadn't been for a fallen tree, they would have been here hours ago. But because the road was blocked, Father had insisted on turning around and waiting until the tree had been cleared. 

By the time they drove through the tall iron gates of Nathaniel's house, Bella had a strong sensation that something was wrong. She wasn't sure why; it was just a sixth sense that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her skin goose bump despite the heat of the car.

"I'll come with you," her father insisted as he opened his door. "I want to—"

The rest of the sentence was sucked away as the bitter wind whipped around them with icy lashes.

Bella grabbed her bag and ran towards the side gate. The front door was always locked, but she knew the kitchen door would still be open.

As she ran around the side of the house, a large flash of lightning briefly illuminated the garden and a dark shape near the edge of the path caught her eye. She stopped dead despite the rain that drenched her, and looked closer, trying to see what it was. When she saw the cane embedded in the mud, her heart froze.

"NATHANIEL!" she screamed, but her voice was torn from her throat by the shrieking wind. 

Bella sank to her knees in the sodden soil with an anguished moan. Nathaniel's eyes were closed and his cheek felt like ice when she touched his smooth jaw. With shaking fingers, she tried to feel for a pulse and eventually to her relief she found one. At least he was still alive.

"Wake up!" she yelled in his ear as he began to stir. 

"We need to get him inside out of the rain," she said as her father appeared beside her. Maurice grabbed one dripping arm and they both tried to yank the heavy man upright, but he was a dead weight.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 08



Bella's tears were lost in the rain that drenched her hair into a sopping mass of dark blonde strands. Her thin cotton top stuck to her body like a second skin, but she felt nothing. She tried again to wake Nathaniel from his stupor and this time he opened his eyes blearily.

"Bella..." he mumbled.

"You have to help me!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard above the screeching wind.

Some of her words must have sunk in for the fog cleared from Nathaniel's eyes. "You came back," he said as he focussed on her face.

"I said I would," Bella reminded him with a hint of a smile.

"I know you did, but when it got late and you weren't here..." Nathaniel reached out and touched her face gently. "I missed you," he said.

"I missed you, too," Bella cried. She took his hand and held it tightly. "I won't leave you again," she whispered.

Nathaniel read her lips and smiled. 

* * *

"You look...different," Bella commented as she passed Nathaniel a mug of steaming coffee.

"I cut my hair and shaved my beard off," he replied, feeling embarrassment tint his cheeks red under her intense scrutiny.

"I like the new you." Bella sat down beside him and he felt the damp warmth of her body steaming in the heat from the range.

"I meant what I said," Nathaniel said eventually. Now that the throbbing in his head had begun to abate, he realised that he had to say something, anything, to make Bella understand just how important she was to him.

"I really missed you," he mumbled.

Bella sighed as she dipped some cotton wool in a bowl of clean water and antiseptic before dabbing the cut on his head.

"I missed you too," she replied.

"Ouch!" He cursed as the harsh antiseptic stung.

"Big baby," Bella laughed, but she sat back on the chair and dropped the cotton wool on the table. 

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," Nathaniel said as looked at Bella properly for the first time since she had rescued him from the storm. "I was wrong to make you come here -- it was a bad thing I did." He felt shame wash over him as he thought about the vile man he had become since Rebecca's death.

When Bella's hand squeezed his arm, tears of self loathing pricked his eyes and he hung his head.

"You're not a bad man," Bella said firmly. She reached up and stroked his smooth cheek. 

"Daddy told me about your wife...and the accident." 

Nathaniel could hear the sympathy in her voice and his heart hardened with anger. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me," he snapped as he pushed her hand away. God knows he had had enough of people feeling sorry for him over the years and the last thing he wanted was for Bella to stay here because she felt sorry for him.

He saw the flash of pain in her eyes and his anger evaporated instantly. She wasn't like them. She wasn't like anybody he had ever known; not even Rebecca.

"God, I'm sorry," he whispered.

Bella threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "Don't be," she said as her damp hair tickled his cheek. 

"I like being here...with you," she whispered in his ear.

"Really?" Nathaniel asked hesitantly. He could hardly believe that she might mean that. It was almost too much to hope that she could see the person he still was beneath the pain and anger.

"Yes. I want to stay if you'll let me?"

"Please stay," he said, praying with all his heart that she would.

"I promise..."

* * *

Roses bloomed in a riot of different colours, each velvety petal glittering with diamond dew drops that sparkled in the early morning sun. Bella knelt down in the soil to examine her newest acquisition -- a rare variety that promised a deep purple flower. The first bud had already appeared on the plant and she smiled with delight at the thought of how beautiful the roses would be.

Taking a pair of scissors from her pocket, Bella snipped a deep pink flower from a bush that was growing near the wall, then she headed back inside the house. She was standing at the sink, trimming the stalk, when Nathaniel appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"It's almost as beautiful as you," he said in her ear, and she laughed.

"Ha! Sweet talk will get you everywhere," she smiled as she placed the bloom in a narrow crystal vase on the windowsill. The light refracted through the glass and sent tiny rainbows dancing across room like butterflies.

His hands stroked her swollen belly. The baby squirmed inside her and she winced uncomfortably as a sharp spasm rippled through her.

"Are you okay?" Nathaniel asked immediately, feeling the tightness in her abdomen. 

The pain passed and Bella relaxed again. "I think so. Just practice contractions probably. Rose isn't due for another week after all."

"Rose?" he commented dryly. 

"Yes, Rose. I've decided that it's the perfect name for our daughter." Bella grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen doorway that faced out into the walled garden.

"Hopefully she won't be as prickly as her father once was!" Bella said with a radiant smile.

Nathaniel stared down at his wife and smiled serenely at her teasing comment. That beast of a man was long gone now. Bella had healed his wounds and restored his faith in life and love. 

"No, she won't be," he replied before kissing her lightly. "Rose is a perfect name for our daughter."

And it was. 

Rose Rebecca De'Ville was born late that evening and grew up to become the apple of her doting father's eye. Fortunately, she was as sweet natured as her mother and being spoilt rotten had no effect on her sunny disposition. 

Nathaniel, Bella, and Rose, lived happily ever after...

* * *

 Thanks for reading ~ rach



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 09



The Princess and the Pauper: Two women find themselves in the opposite end of the social spectrum

Penelope carefully glanced around the corner. She wasn't sure how the staff would react to the sight of her dressed up like this, but she did not want to take any chances and find out. The coast was clear, so she hurried down the hall and slipped into the bathroom.

Out of habit, she checked her appearance in the mirror. The woman who stared back looked nothing like the Penelopy Carterborn that most people knew. She was tall for a woman, at only a couple inches shy of six feet, and still had the same lithe, athletic, body. Her hair was the same wavy blond that fell halfway down her back.

That was where the similarities ended. Her hair was pulled back into a pony-tail instead of her usual artful styling. While she never went out without make-up it was subdued instead of the metallic green eye shadow and lipstick that she wore now.

Most striking was the outfit. She was expected to wear the height of fashion. What she wore now would send her father into apoplexy. The hip-hugger jeans were not only so tight as to be a second layer of skin, they dipped in front so low that it was imperative she shave smooth. As it was her red, lace, thong could be seen by all as it escaped her tight butt.

Her shirt wasn't any better. Not only was it cut high enough to display her entire midriff, and low enough to display what little cleavage she had, but it was tied at the center. The overall effect reminded her of the Daisy Duke look, except that she didn't have nearly large enough breasts to pull it off as well as Jessica Simpson had.

Penelope shifted her breasts slightly. She sighed when they settled comfortably back into place. Without a bra designed for it, she would never really have cleavage with her C-cups. Tonight she had forgone a bra entirely. She didn't really need one to support their weight and if she had tried to match the thong it would have shown through the shirt in the lighting where she planned to go.

Now she was just stalling. This wasn't the first time she had broken curfew, but this time she was trying to dodge the security team that her father assigned to her. She hated the invasion of privacy but she understood, as one of the 5 richest people in the world, there was little that people wouldn't do to get some leverage on her dad. She might be a black belt in three different forms of martial arts but even she could still be kidnapped.

Penelope went out the window. It was a short jump to the trees but she had her knee-high boots off so that the four inch spike heels didn't throw her off. She inched to the trunk and around to the opposite side. From there is was another short jump and she was over the compound wall.

She was free, for the time being at least.





Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 09



The woman wasn't paying any attention. Instead she was lost in her own inner turmoil. "Well, if they hate me they do, but I should find out sooner rather than later. Besides, not everyone could possibly...Jimmy already seemed to have caught on."

Before Penelope could try again, Jocelyn flung open the door and dragged her in. To the surprise of both women, there was no one present. Only a light noise from one of the back rooms lead them to suspect there might be someone asleep.

Penelope was shocked by the apartment. She suspected Kess lived here, and was certain it was not alone. However, given the tiny living room, she could not imagine more than two people could occupy the space and remain sane.

"Uncle Kenny is probably at work, and undoubtedly that's Julie asleep, but where are your brothers and parents?" Penelope shrugged. She had no answer for the other woman. Her quick math revealed that everyone in the photo must live in the twenty foot by ten foot apartment. She could only hope the bedrooms were considerably larger!

Jocelyn carefully pushed one of the doors open a crack. After a glance around she opened the door more fully and pulled Penelope in after her. The room was possibly smaller than the main room. There was barely enough room to stand with two twin sized beds and a small vanity dresser.

Penelope found herself pressed to sit on the edge of one of the beds. She watched as the other woman scurried briefly about the room and came back with a pair of worn shears. A moment later their purpose was clear. "You can't cut my hair!"

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Honey, I've practiced on you a million times. Besides, I finally got my license!"

The sheer excitement of the exclamation infected Penelope. Besides, she had admired the look on Kess, and it might be just the thing to give Branson a pause. She nodded meekly and tried to relax as the woman she barely knew went to work on her.





Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 09



Jocelyn smiled without opening her eyes. She nuzzled slightly against Penelope before she answered. "I'm actually supposed to be working for the place that trained me. At least another year and a half. But mom is sick so I left and came back here. She needs someone to take care of her."

Jocelyn sighed. There was grief and resignation in the sound, but when she spoke again her tone was still light. "They'll send lawyers, I'm sure. Had a friend who left and wasn't allowed to work within a thirty mile radius of the place. Means I won't be able to use my license for something like five years, but mom comes first. Want to make sure she knows she's still important, even if she is dying."

The final word hit Penelope like a bullet. Death had never been anything but a plot twist in fiction to her. Even though she lived with her father, her parents were merely divorced. Jocelyn spoke of her mother's death with enough acceptance that she had to have not only seen it before, but often enough to lose some of its impact.

"What does she have? Can the doctors do anything?"

There was a definite bitterness to Jocelyn's laughter. "Kess, you know damn well we don't have insurance! There's probably something that could be done, but we can't afford it. Mom probably knows exactly what would help, but she hasn't told me. She won't stick me with the bill any more than I would leave her for all the money in the world."

Penelope was uncomfortable with the topic. She had always taken it for granted that if someone got sick they could simply go to the hospital. Only criminals avoided them because of the possibility of exposure and capture. "What about the job? The city's bigger than thirty miles across. There's got to be somewhere here you could work and still avoid their restrictions?"

This time, the sigh from Jocelyn was content. "Always thinking of me Kess. You're right, there are probably some places on the hill outside of the range, but they'd never hire me."

Penelope laughed. "Why not? You're good! I'd dare say you're the best I've ever seen."

Jocelyn stuck out her tongue. The simple action made the woman seem like a high-schooler. The image suited the youthful personality. "They'd never hire me because my blood's red as yours. I don't got no pedigree. I wasn't apprenticed by some high and mighty stylist. And I certainly didn't blow some designer off behind the runway."

Penelope was shocked by the casual way the woman insulted the stylists she'd visited all of her life. In some respects it was an assumption that Penelope herself thought that about Jocelyn. Unfortunately, she had to admit that many of her piers did think that way. Hadn't there been some media coverage of the amount that President Clinton had paid for his haircut?

In the end, Penelope decided that all that mattered was the result. It shouldn't matter what the person charged, or where they were trained. All that mattered was that the product was the best around.

A glance in the mirror confirmed that Jocelyn's work was second to none. "You never know, you might find a job up there yet."

Penelope's muttered comment wasn't truly meant to be heard. That was a good thing since Jocelyn had fallen asleep cuddled against her.





Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 09



Kess trembled, but tried to speak through the hand. "What was that? I didn't understand you. Do you promise not to scream if I remove your hand?"

Kess nodded, well aware that he could steal the breath from her with a simply twist of the hand buried inside of her. Barring that, he could still muffle her again in less than a second. "You killed Penelope's dad. Didn't you? And what about Penelope? Won't she be pissed if you marry someone else and call me her?"

Branson laughed. His hand slapped over her mouth and his fist twisted sharply. She screamed into his hand as he intended. Tears rolled down her face long after the pain had once more returned to a dull throb.

"I've already sent someone out to find her and take care of her. Just like I have someone watching an apartment in case you decide on heroics. One word from me and the Burger six will become the Burger five."

Kess' eyes widened. He knew more than she had thought he did. He knew everything!

Almost everything! Kess' eyes hardened as she saw the shadow of motion reflected in Branson's eyes.

Kess tried to ready herself, but she couldn't keep from screaming as the fist was torn brutally out of her. It had to be that way or Branson would have used her against the people that had just revealed themselves behind her.

Jocelyn's full weight bowled into Branson and the collided heavily with the floor. Kess had been surprised beyond belief when she appeared, in tow, with Penelope. For some reason, her lover had barely been able to meet her eyes and even seemed to fold in on herself when Kess enfolded her in a heart-felt hug.

Now, Jackson and Vincent were in the process of trying to pull Jocelyn off of Branson. Andrew and Christopher were right behind them, ready to hang onto Branson the moment the two were untangled. It looked like he was going to need some first aid at the least.

Branson broke free and reached inside his jacket. Before he could move farther, each wrist was locked tight by a guard. Vincent had to hold Jocelyn off of the ground to keep her from continuing her assault, but it left Jackson free to relieve the rich man of his custom forty-five.

"You have nothing on me! You can't prove anything!"

Penelope walked with a poise and confidence that Kess couldn't help but envy. Even held captive, Branson scared Kess immobile. She had known the group was hidden, but it had not helped to bolster her confidence when he confronted her.

"You have just admitted to a number of crimes in the presence of seven people. Many of whom your lawyers will be able to find absolutely no grounds for moral laxity. However," Kess was glad that the cruel glare that Penelope leveled on Branson fell nowhere near her, "even if you do manage to escape a prison sentence, you can be certain that your status in our circles has collapsed."

Penelope paused for breath and her grim demeanor turned into a feral grin. "I am going to make sure everyone watches your trial. Further, they will know that you have been released from our engagement. I am willing to bet that you will find no friends. And when I'm done you will likely be living downtown without a penny to your name.

Let your whores take you in."

Branson cursed and threatened as the guards carried him from the room, to the police who waited a block away.





Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 10



This fairy tale was actually a ballad known as 'The Cruel Sister'. In the original one sister kills the other (by drowning in a river) over a guy that was stringing them both along. The dead sister is found by a minstrel who strings his harp with her long blonde hair. In the more gruesome version the entire harp is made of her body parts. The harp sings at the wedding of the surviving sister and the guy revealing the murder. The bride is executed and the guy who started it (usually a knight or prince) gets off scot free. I hope that you like my modern version.

The Swan Sisters

Once upon a time there were two sisters...

Anne's eyes swung around the baggage claim. Dmitri was trying to find their bags as the conveyer belt trundled around. Anne was more interested in seeing if her family had actually showed up to get them from the airport. She hadn't seen them for over three years, not since she had left in an absolute rage over their preferential treatment of her younger sister. Half sister, she reminded herself. It had been a culmination of sixteen years of feeling like an outsider in her own family; ever since her father had married Marie.

She glanced back at her boyfriend of six months, now her fiancé and grinned at his dark beauty. He was handsome with black curly hair, golden tan skin and a body that Adonis would be jealous of. How she had managed to catch his eye she would never know but she melted every time he looked at her with those laughing black eyes. 

She had met Dmitri through an internship at the university she was attending in Europe. Horticulture was her obsession and she had overjoyed to have been chosen as an intern for his family's winery for six months. He had taken an instant liking to the shy, introverted American and had spent quite a bit of time pursuing her. Anne still wasn't sure why. Dmitri was all of the things that she wasn't; popular, outgoing, handsome, and a now recently graduated Master of Business. She had been the quiet type that spent all of her time studying.

Her eyes roving again she spotted her father and step-mother coming her way and waved. Her step-mother was looking as polished as ever, even in casual cloths. Her father looked absolutely unchanged from the last time she had seen him, tall, blonde and beefy. Marie spoke to her father even as Anne turned to Dmitri.

"Dmi they're here," she told him, her voice pitched higher in nervousness. Emily wasn't there, 'thank God' she thought to herself. She was not looking forward to seeing her again. 

"Got the last one," he told her in his lightly accented Greek, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the forehead.

Her parents pushed through the crowds and Anne felt her stomach fluttering with nerves. The moment of reckoning came and she felt almost sick.

"You must be Dmitri," her father said, extending his hand.

"Yes, sir," responded Dmitri, giving him a firm handshake and an engaging smile.

Anne was struck by the picture they made. Her father was still big and bulky from his years as a football player and Dmitri, a head shorter, was as dark as he was blonde, his lithe, graceful body shown to its advantage in jeans and a slightly too tight polo.

"Welcome Dmitri," her mother said and gave him a quick hug," so nice to meet you at last." 

"It is good to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Swan," Dmitri said in his slightly accented English. "Anne has told me a great deal about you both."

Anne smiled mechanically from where she was, tucked up next to Dmitri's firm body. It didn't surprise her that her dad and step-mother had made straight for Dmitri and practically ignored the fact that she was there. That was pretty par for the course with them. She wondered why she had bothered to be nervous in the first place. Dmitri's arm around her with his thumb rubbing lazily against her ribcage took a good deal of the sting out of it though. She tightened her arm around him slightly.

Dmitri looked down at her and grinned. "I have been taking good care of your daughter for you."

Anne laughed out loud at that. If anything Dmitri had pulled her kicking and screaming out of her shell and opened her eyes to the fun to be had when studying abroad.

"That is wonderful," said her father, hefting one of the suitcases. "But please, call me Alan."

"And I am Marie," interjected her step-mother giving Anne a brief kiss on the cheek and a one armed hug. "You look so tan Annie dear, you must be careful in that Mediterranean sun."

"I'm tan Marie," Anne replied, "not burnt." Anne noticed the look of irritation on Marie's face that was quickly erased. She had called her Marie from the moment that she had met her at the age of four. It had always irritated her that Anne didn't call her mom. Anne grinned inwardly. She wasn't going to take Marie's comments like the doormat she had always been. Dmitri had bolstered her confidence and taught her to stand up for herself, and she was going to take them to heart when it came to dealing with her family.

"I have the car parked in the 10 minute parking zone," said Alan, "we should get moving. Is this all the luggage?"

"Yes," laughed Dmitri, "I have taught Anne the secret of packing lightly for our trips around Europe."

"Well, maybe she can teach Marie a thing or two about that," laughed Alan. "Every time we go anywhere it is like we are taking her entire closet with us."

The trip home took about two hours as traffic was light. Conversation consisted mostly of family news and catching up a bit. Toward the end of the drive she began to doze a bit, jet lag catching up with her. She was grateful for Dmitri's comforting presence. She had not wanted to be here but he had insisted on meeting her parents. 'After all," he told her, 'they are to be my parents too. I would rather meet them before the wedding takes place." With that he had kissed her senseless and she had decided to let him win.

@@@@

Emily wasn't at the house when they got there. Anne was grateful, she was still angry with her younger sister. Years of silent resentment, living in her sister's shadow, had erupted when she had gotten Great Aunt Silvia's garnet bracelet. 

Anne's favorite great aunt Silvia had doted on Anne, calling her the spitting image of Silvia's sister, Jane that had died young. The bracelet had been Anne's favorite and Silvia had let her play dress up with it and borrow it for things like her senior prom. She had always promised Anne that it would be hers some day and Anne had had dreams of wearing it at her wedding. 

Finals had been brutal and college graduation had felt more like another obligation to attend rather than a celebration. Her father had actually driven the six hours up to see the graduation and help her pack up her dorm room. She had gone to see Aunt Silvia, still going strong in her assisted living apartment and had a great visit. She had passed away in her sleep that night of a stroke and two days later Anne woke to a 104 degree fever and chills so bad she thought that she would shake herself to pieces. 

Silvia, being 95 years old did not have a huge circle of friends and so the funeral had been small and quiet. Anne had pulled herself together for the funeral and graveside service and then gone straight back to bed. Emily had helped her father sort through and box up Silvia's belongings. Surprising everyone she had left a considerable amount of money to Anne with directions that her personal belongings be divided among the family. Her father had been executor of the will. While they were cleaning things out of Silvia's safe Emily had seen and asked for the bracelet. Alan, feeling that Anne had received the lion's share with the bulk of Silvia's money had given it to her.

Anne had seen her sister wearing it two days later and had exploded. Alan refused to give in and Emily had gloated behind her father's back at her older sister. Anne had slapped the look off of her sister's face, earning her a sharp reprimand from her father. In an absolute rage she had packed up her things and left the house vowing to never come back.

Surprisingly enough it was Marie that had made the effort to stay in touch with her. Holiday cards, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and even ones like Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day had arrived promptly with small notes on the family's doings. Anne had responded with postcards from the various places she had visited in Europe and so a tenuous communication had been maintained.

Anne's last card had contained news of her engagement and after a lot of soul searching and Dmitri's urging she had agreed to accept Marie's invitation to visit. 

Her old bedroom had been transformed into a tasteful guest room with attached bathroom and she collapsed gratefully on the bed. 

Dmitri laughed as he caught sight of her. "Be careful Anne," he teased, "or I might find more energy than I think I have."

Anne giggled. Sex with Dmitri was incredible and he was always gentle with her. After an abusive relationship early in her college years she had been hesitant to get physical too soon. Dmitri had been very patient with her and when they had finally made love she had kicked herself for not jumping him from the start.

They had refused dinner and gone up to bed as soon as they could. Both of them were jet lagged and exhausted.

Spooned up around Dmitri's warm body Anne drifted off into sleep. Perhaps she would just have to seduce him in the shower in the morning. She smiled at the thought of Dmitri pressing her against the tiles in the bathroom, wet and lusting, making those sexy noises in the back of his throat as he came. In the morning, she promised herself.

@@@@

Anne closed her eyes as the water beat down on the front of her body and Dmitri leisurely scrubbed her with a soapy washcloth. He pulled her back just a bit and she could feel his erection, hard and strong against her butt. She ground against him as his hands caressed her body. She moaned as he turned her to the side and guided her hands to the support bar on the shower wall. 

"God Dmi you feel so good," she moaned as he entered her gently from behind. She loved the feel of his hard, strong body against hers. Even more than that she loved the panting moans in her ears that told her how good she was making her lover feel.

"So tight," Dmitri gasped as he thrust into her, overwhelmed by the feeling of slickness and heat in her body. Faster and faster he thrust, grinding his hand into her clit, until he heard her cry out and her sheath tightened rhythmically around him. He let go then, emptying himself deep into her again and again. He loved the feel of her body in his arms.

After toweling one another off (interrupted more than once with playful kisses) and dressing they wandered downstairs to get some breakfast.

"Morning guys," came a voice and Anne saw that her sister was seated at the island eating breakfast. 

To say that she had grown up was an understatement. Emily was now an 18 year old high school graduate and was wearing a bikini top and shorts than showed off her deeply tanned skin and a lean muscular body that had earned her several scholarships to college for sports. Her hair was a bleached blond that looked completely natural and probably cost her a pretty penny at a salon. Emily's figure had definitely filled out and more skin was exposed by her skimpy bikini than covered. To top it off she was beautiful, looking just like her mother with hint of their shared father in her features. 

"Hi," she said brightly, extending her hand, "you must be Dmitri."

"It is nice to meet you Emily," said Dmitri, shaking her hand.

"Hi Anne," Emily said.

"Hello Emily," Anne replied rather coolly. "Would you like me to make you some breakfast Dmitri?"

"Only if I get to help," he laughed.

"Anne can cook?" laughed Emily, "This I have to see." She settled back on her stool and continued to munch on her cinnamon roll.

The comment irritated Anne. She had been twenty-one when she had last seen Emily. Emily had been fifteen. Considering the fact that Anne hadn't actually lived in the house since Emily was 12, how the hell did Emily have a clue as to whether or not Anne had cooked or not. 

Anne choked back the angry words that she wanted to shout at her sister. She and Dmitri soon fell into their comfortable routine; they cooked together a great deal at the winery. Between Dmitri and his mother, Anne had gone from a girl who knew the basics to a very good cook. Since she and Dmitri and she had become engaged she was treated like a full member of the family. She had never felt happier when Dmitri's mother had complemented her on several dishes she had helped with for an important wine tasting event. This was one of the many reasons that she adored his family. 

Anne was very conscience of the undercurrents in the light conversation between the three of them. Emily was being very flirty with Dmitri, who responded like a much older brother rather than flirting back. Anne started to relax a little. As annoying as Emily was it was plain that Dmitri was not going to encourage her.

"So are you guys going to come down to the beach?" Emily asked. "I have some friends coming over this afternoon about 2."

"Anne has told me about the lake," replied Dmitri, "I would like very much to see it."

Anne smiled at Dmitri. "Don't forget I want to take you hiking at the state park too," she reminded him.

"Hopefully we will have time to get everything in before we have to go back," he said, popping a bit of sausage into her mouth.

Anne grinned at him. He had told her in explicit detail what he wanted to do to her on the beach. It was fairly secluded and at least a hundred yards from the house. They would have to go down alone if Dmitri wanted to keep his 'promise'.

They spent the rest of the day together revisiting Anne's childhood haunts. They also took flowers to Aunt Silvia's grave. 

Dmitri knew the story of Silvia's bracelet. He had been supportive of Emily's anger and hurt, but had privately wondered what the fuss was. Now that he had met her family he was beginning to understand her attitude. They did tend to ignore Anne, something that he felt she must have exaggerated until he actually saw it. It didn't help that Anne was naturally shy and reserved and kept herself in the background. Emily on the other hand was an outgoing and aggressive personality and it was apparent that her parents were very proud of her. Too much so he felt. He didn't like the blatant flirting that she launched his way, especially in front of her sister, his fiancée. It was almost like Emily was trying to get a rise out of Anne, seeing how far she could push her.

Listening to Anne talk about Silvia, Dmitri got a much clearer picture of the lonely child she must have been and her attachment to the one person in her life that had doted on her. Anne's mother had adored her daughter, but she had died suddenly when Anne was four. Six weeks later Marie had moved in and five months after that Emily had been born. It didn't take a math genius to figure that Alan and Marie had been having an affair and that she had been pregnant with Emily when Anne's mother had died. Marie had tried too hard to replace Linda, Anne's mother, and Anne had resented her from the beginning.

Dmitri shook his head. He was beginning to be glad that they would be living an ocean away from these people. 

@@@@

The next day they had planned for hanging around the house and catching some rays. Anne woke up with a raging headache. Dmitri knew why. Anne had spent a good portion of the night crying and Dmitri had spent it fuming.

Dinner that night had been a fiasco. Dmitri had watched again and again as Anne had been interrupted and ignored by her family as they talked around the table. Emily had been the worst offender but neither Alan nor Marie called her on it. They had even seemed irritated with Dmitri when he had gently pointed out Emily's interruption and asked Anne to continue her story.

That morning Dmitri made her breakfast in bed, provided Tylenol and some snuggling and told her to go back to sleep. Anne crashed and Dmitri went downstairs to clean the kitchen.

Anne woke up to see that it was past noon. "Shit," she said softly. She hadn't meant to sleep so long. She stretched, relieved that her headache had subsided to a dull ache. 

On the counter in the kitchen Dmitri had left her a brief note.

"Hey love, Emily is taking me down to the beach. I decided to let you sleep as you looked so tired. Join us when you wake up! If you are still not feeling well don't come down. I love you. I'll be back up to check on you. See you in a bit. Dmitri." 

Anne ate a quick sandwich while she changed into her suit. She was walking back down the hallway when she caught sight of Emily's half open door. Curious, she poked her head in.

Emily was a slob. Clothing was strewn all over the floor, the bed was unmade, the small vanity table with its mirror was littered with make-up, hair ties, tissues and discarded jewelry. In this mess Anne caught sight of the small, rather shabby jewel case that had held Gwen's bracelet. 

Anne had to brace herself against the anger that surged through her. It still hurt: that the one thing that she had wanted, a relatively inexpensive piece of jewelry had been denied her. Why Emily hadn't chosen Silvia's pearls or diamond tennis bracelet Anne would never know.

She picked up the box, smiling at the fond memories of Silvia that the threadbare velvet brought back. She popped it open. It was empty except for a folded piece of paper that lay on the discolored silk. Anne was a little disappointed. She was denied even a glimpse of it. Curiously she opened the paper that had been folded down to fit inside the 4 x 4 box. At the top was her name written in Gwen's rather angular, jagged writing. 

My dearest Anne, 

I promised this bracelet to you and I am keeping my promise. Wear it and remember me. I love you. Your Loving Aunt, Silvia

She stared at it. With her next few breaths she came to the realization that Emily had lied. She had taken the bracelet knowing that it had been meant for her. She had lied to their father and Marie and then laughed when Anne had become so angry.

Furious, Anne took the box and note with her, shoving it into her beach bag. She was so going to rip into her sister. Not even her parents could argue with a note in Gwen's own handwriting. She slammed the door to Emily's room closed and stomped down the stairs and out the back door. She was halfway down the path when she realized she had forgotten her shoes and the gravel was hurting her feet. She slowed down and walked on the side of the path that was more dirt than gravel to cushion her bruised feet.

For this reason she was quieter than she usually would have been, concentrating on where to place her feet. Almost to the beach she looked up and stopped in shock.

Dmitri was lying on a beach towel, his sleek body writhing as Emily took all of his cock into her mouth. In that moment she felt unable to breathe, like the time she had had the wind knocked out of her. Dmitri and her sister, she was supposed to be the only one to watch him like this. Her vision blurred for a moment as tears gathered before falling down her cheeks. Without thinking she moved several feet to her right and sank down to her knees. Shielded by the vegetation, she felt numb as she could hear Dmitri moaning and the sickening noises of her sister sucking and slobbering on his cock. She watched as Emily's head bobbed up and down and Dmitri's beautiful body squirmed under her as he moaned.

How could he do this to her was the thought that shouted over and over in her head. How could he do it! How could he cheat, with her sister, her own goddamned sister!? She thought that he understood her, loved her. And Emily, how could Emily do this to her, did she hate her that much!? What had she ever done to deserve this? What had she done? "Anne!" he moaned, startling her, obviously climaxing. She thought, just for a split second, that he had seen her watching and then she understood. He thought it was her giving him the blowjob. 




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 10



"Wha...., what the hell are you doing!?" Dmitri shoved Emily off of him and a very naked Emily landed awkwardly on the sand.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Dmitri shouted again, jumping to his feet and pulling his swim trunks back up.

Emily just laughed from where she was sitting on the sand. "You have to ask?" she smiled coquettishly at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! I am engaged to your sister!" He shouted, his accent becoming thicker in his anger, "I am not interested in you." 

Emily rose to her feet, her tall naked body glistening with tanning oil. Anne could see that the only thing she was wearing was a bracelet that sparkled in the sun. "You wanted me," she told him, "why else would you come in my mouth? I can't believe that my frigid older sister could keep a man like you happy."

Dmitri stared at Emily in absolute amazement. "Anne is a wonderful girl. She will soon be my wife. Don't you dare say such things about her."

"If she is so wonderful then why is you have been flirting with me, brother dear," cooed Emily pressing herself up against him. "Do you want to fuck? Will you dream about me when you are sleeping next to her? Call my name maybe? She will never get you off the way I can."

Dmitri pushed her away from him and she landed on her ass, sprawled in an ungraceful heap. "Your sister deserves better than this from you. No wonder she didn't want to visit with such a whore for a sister. Do not bother to fly over for our wedding; you will not be welcome in my house."

"You bastard," Emily hissed. "She won't even look at you when I am done telling her what you did. I'll tell her everything."

Dmitri laughed, "She would never believe you. She would put it off to you being the little slut that you are. I have a feeling that your parents might actually believe me when I tell them why you are no longer invited to our wedding. So if you think that you can blackmail me into keeping quiet you are wrong. Now if you don't mind I think I am going to take a shower, I feel a little dirty for some reason."

Emily sat there looking stunned as Dmitri left her there, following the path the hundred yards to the house.

"Bastard," she said again standing up and walking over to the lake's sandy shore. Knee deep in the water she began to splash water over herself, washing off the sand that clung to her oil covered body. 

In his anger, Dmitri had passed by the trees Anne was behind, without seeing her, as he stormed up the path. Anne just sat for a moment, still stunned by what she had witnessed. Without even realizing what she was doing Anne found herself walking across the hot sand that burned her bare feet and then into the cool water behind her sister. Emily looked up and for one instant their gazes met. And then Emily found her feet kicked out from underneath her, and held firmly by her hair and one arm under the surface of the water, her other arm pinned with her torso, between Anne's legs.

Anne's mind was blank even as her rage crystallized. Emily had taken advantage of her fiancé falling asleep on the beach. She had tried to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to her, just like she had tried to sabotage her life in so many other small ways; like Aunt Silvia's bracelet, like her parent's love and attention. Emily had everything. She had always been first. She was gifted, beautiful, and she still had to try to take every bit of Anne's happiness away from her, just for fun.

Emily struggled, and Anne held fast to her, holding her down despite the fifty pound difference in their weight, pushing her down so far her own face was almost touching the water. She felt detached even as she sobbed hysterically, feeling her sister struggle and kick under her, fighting for air, for breath. In a strange way she felt that she was fighting for her own life as well. Fighting for Dmitri, for her parent's love, for a life without the constant comparison to Emily: perfect, perfect Emily who could do no wrong. 

Emily's blue eyes were wide and frantic, pleading; the bubbles from her watery screams breaking the surface and distorting the view of her face. And then the struggles slowed and then stopped. 

Anne stayed there; long after Emily had stopped moving, mesmerized by the long blonde hair in the water waving with each small movement of the water. She finally stood upright, her back aching, and her eyes sore from the glare of the sun on the water. Her head was pounding again, throbbing in time with her heartbeat.

She stumbled out of the water, almost staggering. The bracelet that Emily had been wearing had come loose in her hand; Silvia's bracelet. Anne gazed at it, holding it carefully; it was finally back where it belonged. Anne grabbed her bag from where she had dropped it on the beach and started walking up the path to the house. As she walked she pulled off the long strands of golden hair that were wrapped around her hand and fingers. Absently she tucked that into her beach bag as well.

Walking back to the house was rather like walking in a fog. When she got to the house she could hear the sound of the hot tub jets. Crossing the grass she peered around the corner of the house to see the back of Dmitri's head as he soaked.

Wiping the sand off of her feet in the grass she went upstairs and crawled into the shower. She stood under the spray for a long time, her mind empty, and her emotions numb. She took a few more Tylenol for her headache and slipped in between the cool sheets.

@@@@

Dinner was almost ready, a quick stir fry of the vegetables and two minutes of boiling for pasta, and it would be finished. Anne had decided to change the menu that her step-mother had left her. She had resented the fact that she was the guest and yet Marie expected her to cook. Anne had decided to use it as an opportunity to show off her cooking skills. She hated Spaghetti Bolognaise; instead she pulled out some shrimp and Alfredo sauce and quickly cranked out some homemade pasta. Besides, she knew that Marie would be irritated that she had changed the menu. That gave her just a little bit of satisfaction.

Anne had roused at about five thirty, Dmitri sound asleep snuggled up next to her in their bed. She had grabbed his clothes as well as her own and tossed them in the wash. Her cheeks felt a little hot and she knew that she must have a burnt them a bit. She put some aloe vera lotion on and gone down the stairs to start supper.

She ran up the stairs and smiled at Dmitri's sleeping form. She loved him so much that it made her chest ache. Gently she began stroking his back. "Dmitri honey, it is almost time for supper."

"Hmmm?" He rolled over and gave her a sleepy smile that was so sexy her heart skipped a beat.

"Time for supper sleepy head," she teased.

"Mmmmm I would rather you crawled into bed with me," he said in a sleepy voice. He pulled her willing body on top of his and she could feel his arousal against her. She kissed him and felt that familiar tingle deep in her belly. She loved him so much she ached with it.

"Tonight," she told him after their heated kiss ended. "You need to get out of bed; my parents will be getting home any minute." She laughingly avoided his attempt to pull her back into bed. She was still laughing as she went down the stairs and set the table for five. She heard the garage door open and popped the pasta into the boiling water and put oil in the frying pan for her veggies.

"Hi Dad," she caroled as her tired looking father walked in through the mudroom door. 

"Hi Anne. Mmm it smells great in here."

"Supper in three minutes."

"Oh, you are a life saver. I didn't know if we would have time to eat before we have to leave for that damn fundraiser." Her father set his briefcase and coat on the sideboard and helped himself to a glass of white wine chilling on the counter. 

"Can I get you a glass, Dmitri?" he asked as a tousle haired Dmitri entered the kitchen.

"Yes, that would be great," he said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "I was more tired than I thought."

"That's not surprising," Alan grinned at him, "by the time you are adjusted it will be time to go back to Greece."

They laughed and chitchatted as Anne set the serving dishes on the table. They were just sitting down when Marie breezed in.

"Oh, thank you Anne," she said hanging her coat in the entryway closet, "I was hoping that you would see my note."

"No problem at all Marie," Anne smiled. "I changed the menu just a bit. Dmitri's mom taught me some tricks in the kitchen. That woman can work miracles with sea food."

"Where is Emily?" Marie asked.

"I haven't seen her," replied Anne. "I guess I assumed that she was out with her friends."

"She was down at the beach this afternoon," said Dmitri after a small hesitation. "I haven't seen her since."

"Probably just lost track of time," said Alan, taking another bite of his pasta.

Kelly's car was parked at the top of the path going down there," said Marie, "I saw it when I was driving up. They will probably both be up for food before to long."

The food was passed around and her father and Dmitri were discussing the merits of different wines when Anne heard faint screams.

She held up her hand to silence the table. Hitting the back door at a dead run was a pretty brunette in absolute hysterics.

"Kelly what is going on!?" asked Marie, standing as Kelly raced around the table.

"Emily, Emily," she sobbed, frantically trying to pull Marie with her, "I think she's dead, please you have to come, please, please."

Alan turned to Anne, "call an ambulance," he told her and then raced out of the still open door.

Anne stood so fast she knocked over her chair. The phone fell to the floor on her first attempt to grab it. She scrambled after it and dialed 911.

The next few hours passed slowly, like a bad dream that wouldn't end. Anne couldn't go down to the beach, she just couldn't. Instead she sat on the sofa and shook. It had been a dream, hadn't it? A horrible dream, Dmitri coming in Emily's mouth, Emily under the water, screaming soundless screams, her face obscured by the bubbles, it was just a dream she told herself. 

She answered the policeman's questions mechanically, the situation not sinking in until she saw the gurney with the full body bag strapped to it come up the path and around the house to the waiting ambulance. Anne stopped talking and just watched it through the closed sliding glass doors.

"Emily got a scholarship for swimming," she said out loud to no one in particular. "How?" her voice trailed off. She leaned into Dmitri's warm body, seeking comfort, "How could this happen?" she asked, looking up at the policeman's face.

Anne could see the pity written on the officer's face and for the first time recognized Marie's hysterical sobs coming from the kitchen where her father was holding her as she screamed and ranted.

It was the look on her father's face that caused her to burst into tears. He looked lost, so lost as he held his hysterical wife, trying to be the macho man that had everything under control. He was completely out of his element.

"Anne, honey, I am going to talk to the police. I will be right back, ok?" Dmitri said.

"Kay," she said, releasing him, trying to get her sobbing under control.

With the rest of the family unable, Dmitri took over and spoke to the police about what procedures to follow for funeral arrangements. He also got the name and number of Marie's best friend, the name of the family pastor, and the family doctor and called them all. All of them came immediately. Kelly's parents had been called by the police, and they had both come to pick up the still sobbing girl sometime before.

With other capable people there to help Dmitri returned to Anne. She was still curled up on the couch. She had a stunned expression on her face although she was no longer crying.

The same could not be said for Marie, despite a valium that the Dr. Gibbs had given her. She was crying hysterically and shouting her anger and grief by turns. She rose to her feet, pacing and came to a stop were Anne sat with Dmitri, holding tightly on to his hand.

"Why weren't you with her," Marie demanded, her face looking pale with no make up and her eyes red rimmed.

"What?" asked Anne, not really registering the question.

"Why weren't you with her," Marie was shouting now. "You should have been with her at the beach! She said that she was going to be going down with you and Dmitri. Why weren't you there?! You could have seen that she was in trouble, you could have saved her!"

Anne recoiled as her step mother advanced on her. 

"Don't you yell at Anne," said Dmitri angrily, getting to his feet. "She was not a babysitter for her 18 year old sister! She is a guest in this house."

"She is a rotten excuse for a sister!" Marie screamed. She rounded on Anne where she was sitting, stunned, her mouth open in shock. . "Emily would be alive if it wasn't for her. She should have been there!"

"I was to damn busy cooking YOUR dinner Marie," Anne said angrily. "Apparently guests get to do the cooking and a list of housework while they are here instead of spending time on the beach. Maybe if Emily had had chores to do up here at the house it wouldn't have happened!"

"This is all you're fault! I never should have invited you. You have been a thorn in my side for your entire life."

Anne's temper flared. "At least I am not a home wrecking slut like you Marie. Tell me, did you get pregnant with Emily on purpose to try to get Dad to leave my mom? It must have been convenient for you when mom died in that car accident. Christ, her body was hardly even cold when you moved your pregnant ass into this house."

Marie launched herself at Anne, screaming obscenities. Anne was bloodied by the time Dmitri and Alan had pulled Marie bodily off of her step daughter. 

Anne ignored the others in the room and walked up the stairs to her room. After staunching the flow of blood from her nose, she pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and began folding her and Dmitri's clothing neatly as she packed it. 

She was in the adjoining bathroom, gathering up their toiletries when her father entered the room. He stood in the doorway and watched her neatly pack up her belongings.

"Anne, honey, she didn't mean it," he said quietly. "She is overwrought."

"She meant every word," replied Anne, "and so did I," not bothering to look up as she continued packing. "She has never liked the fact that I was around to remind you of mom. From the day she moved into this house she has done her best to try to completely erase mom's existence. And you let her. From the moment Emily was born she replaced me in every way. I was just a leftover from your earlier life. If I had died with mom in that accident you wouldn't have cared. You already had a replacement on the way."

"That is not true," he protested.

"Isn't it dad?" Anne stopped and looked him straight in the eye, bitterness and anger coloring her voice. "You have never really acted like you gave a damn. To tell you the truth I was amazed that you showed up for my college graduation. You never bothered to call me, email me or anything else. Everything was about Emily. I graduated top of my fucking class a year early from high school and all I heard about was that Emily made the varsity team a year before she should have been eligible."

Anne walked past her father and put her toiletries carefully into their zipper plastic bags and closed the suitcase.

"I give up," she said as she checked the room one last time. "I have a family that loves me, Dmitri's family. I didn't realize how bad things were here until I had them to compare things to. They love me; they accept me for who I am. I was a complete stranger and I felt more welcome after five minutes in their home than I ever did in my own."

Anne stopped again and looked at her father. He looked like he had aged ten years in the last few hours. "If you want to keep in touch with me fine, but you are going to have to make the first move."

Anne grabbed her bags and walked out the door.

"You're not staying for the funeral?"

Anne stopped in the middle of the hallway. She closed her eyes. "No," she replied. "I have no desire to be accused of neglect and murder in front of the entire congregation. If I never see Marie again it will be too soon."

"I'm sorry Anne," her father's voice was full of regret, "I am sorry for everything. I really am."

"So am I dad, so am I," she replied heavily.

A quick call for a taxi later and Anne and Dmitri left for a hotel close to the airport. Anne was too wound up to sleep and paced while Dmitri made arrangements for their tickets to be altered for the next flight out.

It was a hellish trip, with delays due to weather at every turn. It was a full 48 hours later that they finally stepped out of the taxi in front of Dmitri's family home. Dmitri's mother Rosa was there to greet them. Anne took one look at the concerned face and her outstretched arms and fell to pieces. 

Rosa and Dmitri practically carried her into the house, incoherent with sobs. Three days of no sleep and emotional upheaval had left her with no reserves and she sobbed her heart out in Rosa's arms. Rosa just rocked her, singing a lullaby in Greek that Dmitri recognized from his childhood.

Dmitri sat on the other side of his fiancé and stroked her back as he rested his own exhausted body. He didn't realize that he was crying until his mother wiped some of the tears from his cheeks.

He realized with a start that he must have dozed off. Anne was sound asleep with her head pillowed on Rosa's legs, her breath still hitching occasionally as she slept.

With out even being asked he poured out the story. He left nothing out, not even Emily's actions on the beach. His mother just listened, shaking her head at some parts.

"Why don't you take Anne upstairs to bed," she told him. "You both need to rest and recover yourselves." She looked down at the girl sleeping in her lap and stroked her hair gently. "No wonder she seemed so surprised and grateful for every small compliment, with such a family like that. Poor thing. Well she will thrive with us Dmitri," she said firmly. "She will know true family."

Dmitri kissed his mother's cheek. He was truly grateful that she was his mother and he told her so.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Dmitri scrambled through the small upright cabinet that held Anne's jewelry. Where in the hell were his cufflinks and tie tack! He knew that they were there somewhere. Christ he was getting married in less than twenty minutes. 

He took a few deep breaths and tried to stop the shaking of his hands. Continuing to open the small drawers in the jewelry cabinet he shook his head at the amount of jewelry that his fiancé had managed to collect. 

Dmitri pulled out a small, shabby velvet box and opened it. Still intent on his cuff links it didn't register at first. It was a garnet bracelet, identical to the one he had in his pocket, with a small tangle of blonde hair put in the box with it. It was Silvia's bracelet, not the custom made copy that he had had made for Anne's wedding present, but the original.

"What in the hell?" he whispered out loud.

That day on the beach he had taken pictures of the bracelet that Emily had been wearing. He had recognized it from its description. The fact that Emily was wearing it on the beach made him wonder if she was wearing it to anger Anne. He had decided then and there that he would have a replica made for his fiancé. Emily had quite willingly modeled it for him and he had also taken some close-ups with it on the beach blanket before she had put it back on.

Later, after Emily's funeral he had called Alan, Anne's father and had a long talk. It had been a very good talk for both of them. Alan had called Anne several days later and the two had tentatively begun a relationship. Alan had eventually asked if he could come to the wedding, without Marie, and Anne had been ecstatic. Dmitri had kept in touch with Alan over the next few months and finally worked up the courage to ask if he could have the bracelet for a short time so the jeweler could look at it as he made the copy. Alan was surprised to learn that Emily had been wearing it the day she died and told Dmitri that she had not been wearing it when he had given her CPR on the beach. She hadn't been wearing anything except a small pair of gold hoop earrings that had been returned later by the hospital.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 10



Both he and Alan had assumed that it had been lost during Emily's last swim. And yet here it was.

Dmitri pulled out the piece of paper and sat abruptly on the bed. It should have been Anne's all along. But how had she gotten it? Emily had been wearing it. Anne hadn't gone down to the beach after her father. She hadn't had an opportunity to get it. Or had she?

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he realized that the only way that Anne could have gotten the bracelet was to have received it from Emily. Or taken it. Could she have found out what had happened on the beach? Dmitri suddenly felt like throwing up his breakfast. Had she killed Emily? Oh God was she capable?! Even as his heart refused to believe it; things like Emily being a scholarship swimmer popped into his head.

"Dmitri did you find them?" asked Anne as she entered the room. She was dressed in her lacy underwear, stockings and heals, covered by a white silk robe. Her soft brown hair was swept up into an elegant bun with wispy curls around her face. All that remained was the beautiful gown that she had chosen and her mother's pearls and she would be ready.

Dmitri looked up at her. 

Anne glanced down at his hands.

Dmitri watched her blanch and knew at that moment that she had done it. His beautiful fiancé had murdered her sister.

"What did you do?" he whispered, shaking his head. "How did you get it? She was wearing it."

A white faced Anne stared at him, her eyes haunted and scared. She shook her head and reflexively backed up a step as Dmitri rose to his feet.

"Anne," he said in a low voice, "you need to tell me how you got this. How did you get this bracelet?"

Anne jumped like he had shouted at her. "Dmitri," she whimpered, "please."

"Please what," he whispered, "please don't ask the truth, please understand? Please what?"

The silence hung between them and they could hear faintly the sounds of talking and laughter from guests and family as they readied the house for the wedding.

"Did you kill her? Dmitri finally asked, his black eyes burning with unshed tears.

Anne opened her mouth and closed it again. She was afraid to speak; she didn't know what to say.

"TELL ME!" he shouted.

"It wasn't like that," she sobbed, "I didn't mean too. I was so angry with her. She was my sister. How could she try to seduce you! How could she do that to me," her eyes were pleading with Dmitri to understand. "I was standing on the beach and then she was in the water. I don't know how, I truly don't Dmi," she was struggling to speak now between sobs. "I didn't mean to, I didn't, please Dmitri, please."

"And the bracelet," he asked, stone faced, the bottom dropping out of his world.

"It broke in my hands, Dmi," she sobbed, "the clasp broke and it was in my hand."

Anything that Dmitri would've or could've said froze in his throat like ice. He caught sight of Alan, standing in the doorway. Dressed in a tuxedo he was ready to walk his daughter down the aisle.

"Please believe me Dmitri I never meant too," Anne was clutching his lapels now. "Please don't hate me. I can't lose you. I'll die without you, please!"

"You killed her," Alan said as he crossed the room and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and shook her. "How could you do that?! How could you?! She was your sister!"

"I hate her!" Anne screamed, pounding her fists against her father, backing him up step by step into the hallway. "She took everything from me! She took you away! She took the one thing of Silvia's that was mine! I didn't care about the money! You always loved her best! You never saw me, just her. Perfect Emily, precious Emily she had EVERYTHING and she still had to try to take Dmitri from me!"

Anne was shouting at the top of her lungs now. "Did you ever wonder why she was naked? Did you? It was because she tried to seduce Dmitri. She tried to get him to betray me. She offered herself like the whore she was and tried to get him to fuck her!" 

"SHUT UP," screamed Alan, shoving Anne away from him, against the wall on the landing. "She didn't deserve to die no matter what she did."

"YES SHE DID!" Anne screamed back.

Alan slapped her. 

Dmitri had followed them into the hallway, numb with shock, stumbling, wanting to scream at Anne, at himself, at Alan, at the world for what had happened on what was supposed to be the best day of his life.

Alan slapped Anne hard enough that she stumbled into the railing on the landing. It cracked, and then shattered. 

For a single moment Anne's eyes met Dmitri's, wide with shocked surprise. Almost in slow motion she fell backwards, her arms outstretched for something to hold on too, finding nothing but air.

Even as Dmitri raced past Alan, he heard Anne's frightened shriek and then a sickening series of thumps as she hit the stairs below. He flew down the square spiral stairs, almost falling himself in his rush.

Anne lay at the bottom of the stairs, curled on her side, her robe askew and her hair spread out like a halo. Dmitri knew that he shouldn't move her, that he should wait for the medics. He gently rolled her over into his arms, needing to hold her.

Her brown eyes were open, wide and staring; an expression of surprise still on her face, her lipstick smudged a bit. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, the red contrasting sharply with her smooth skin.

He ignored the noises of his family, the babble of voices, the people standing and kneeling around him. Looking up he could see Alan sitting halfway down the stairs, his face ashen, tear streaked, stunned. 

Dmitri held Anne close, burying his face in her soft curls, smelling her shampoo, her perfume. He was still holding the damning bracelet clenched tightly in his right hand. He just held her, refusing to acknowledge that it would be the last time.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 11



In this story I use some Italian phrases, so I apologize in advance if I have in any way slaughtered such a beautiful language. It was unintentional. I hope that you enjoy Empress and Nicola's story. All feedback is welcome.

Once upon a time.....there was an owner of a plus size woman's clothing store who was approached by the creator of a new style of clothing that is sure to be the rage. Empress Chikowski is the owner of this store and due to her statuesque physique she had always been in search of stylish clothes for her plus size figure. Enter Nicola Rambaudi, the creator of new style of clothing that is scandalous as it is beautiful. Can he convince Empress that they would look smashing even on her generous figure?

Empress Chikowski stormed into her back office. As usual her appearance had started out immaculate and professional but as her day had worn on - she ended up the same as she did everyday. She slipped into the washroom just off her office where she winced as she caught the reflection of herself in the mirror above her sink. Her once tidy French braid was now loose and several strands of hair had slipped free of their moorings. Not to mention the frizzy halo that all people with natural curls seem to possess. The light weight linen suit that looked so smart this morning was now wrinkled and even stained with a spot of antipasto sauce that she had somehow managed to spill on herself at lunch. One wouldn't think that a woman her age wouldn't need a bib to eat lunch. But at times she wondered. 

"Em, there is a man out here who says he has an appointment to show you his new line?"

Empress looked up in the mirror to see Heidi, her head clerk and assistant in the doorway of the washroom. 

"Yeah, I know. Give me ten minutes to refresh myself and I will see him," she replied.

* * * * * 

Nicola stood in the midst of the woman's clothing store. His brother had first suggested the "Barely There" clothes idea. And as an active nudist, he had to admit the concept of clothing that mimicked a woman's natural skin tone and hinted at their beautiful curves was very appealing; but standing inside of this store he wasn't sure that the plus size woman would appreciate such clothing - that it might be a bit to much to ask that a large woman wear his designs. He was just thinking of leaving when the clerk that had left him standing returned from the back.

"She'll be out in a few minutes," the tall willowy woman said with a genuine smile.  He stuffed his hands inside of his pockets and stared around the store again. It wasn't completely deserted but obviously his presence had hushed the warm atmosphere. The clerk joined one of the few customers and led her to what he assumed was a fitting room. He felt like an piece of meat in a room full of a vegetarians. The many racks of elegant clothing were a rainbow of many hues. Walking over to the closest rack, he pulled a silk dress off it. He was genuinely surprised to see the expert cut and design of the piece. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, he thought. 

* * * * * 

Empress watched the man on the security monitor as he examined the dress he held. She licked her lips as she studied him. He was taller than the average man that much was for certain. The rack that he was standing next to was almost six feet tall and he stood a good six to eight inches taller than the rack. She swallowed roughly, knowing her weakness for tall men. At six foot one, she was almost always looked her dates in the in eye, if she didn't tower over them. Her heart beat faster as she noticed the way that he handled the delicate silk of the dress he was holding. In her experience most men were rough on the delicate fabrics; but it was obvious that he was savoring the soft feel against his skin. It made her wonder if he would do the same with a woman's delicate flesh. Her thighs quivered as she continued to watch him examine every inch of the dress in his hands.

"Isn't he just dreamy?" Heidi asked as she came to stand next to Em. 

"Yes," Em admitted before turning away from the monitor. "You can send him in, Heidi. And be a dear, and clear my schedule for the rest of the day." 

"Damn girl, I know that's he yummy but you don't have to jump his bones on the first date," Heidi joked, knowing full well her boss's view on casual relationships. In fact one night over a pitcher full of margaritas, Em had confided that she didn't get what the 'big deal' was concerning sex. But one look at the way her boss was reacting to the 

man on the sales floor -- she was going to soon figure out exactly what the big deal was.

"Just show him in, Heidi," Em repeated as she walked over and sat down behind her cluttered desk. It seemed 

that to her that her desk mimicked her, it started out neat and orderly but by the end of the day it was just as 

messy - even cluttered as she was. 

* * * * * 

Nicola sauntered into the office carrying his briefcase. He took a quick glance around the small room, taking in the various details. It was a cozy room, more fitting for afternoon tea than a working office. Behind a hardwood desk sat the woman he was there to see.  He could safely say she wasn't what he had expected. He thought he would be greeted by a woman that reminded him of his sainted grandmother... a round and pleasantly plump older woman. Instead the dark haired temptress that greeted him was not at all what he had expected.

"Hello, my name is Nicola Rambaudi, I have a meeting set up with Ms. Chikowski." 

"Of course. I am Empress Chikowski. Have a seat Mr Rambaudi," she said, her softly accented voice sending chills of awareness up his spine,

"Empress?" he asked as he took the seat in front of her desk.

"Yes, and please no wise cracks about it. If Empress is to much of a mouth full, please call me Em. Most everyone does. Now what can I do for you, Mr Rambaudi?" 

"Nicola, please. And I have a new design line of clothing I would like to show you," Nicola said as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He handed them across the desk to her. She took them from him and opened to the first sketch. Shock was quickly masked as she stared the sheet in front of her. He watched as she slowly turned the pages. Although the shock at the first page was now gone, he could see her eyes flare with interest as she viewed the following pages.

He could see the flush on her face when she looked back up at him. 

"These are not exactly what I was expecting. I am not sure that they are exactly what I would sell in my shop,Nicola They might be better suited for the shop down the street. They specialize in sexy lingerie and clothing. Most of the women that frequent my shop are up and coming business women that need suitable but attractive clothes for work."

"I did notice that you carry quite a the line of business clothes, but I also noticed that you had a whole section devoted to evening wear. This clothing line is not meant for the office any more than the evening dresses that you have displayed," Nicola pointed out as he relaxed in the chair.

"I am well aware of the clothing lines that I offer, Mr Rambaudi. I just can't see this line working well with the rest of the clothing that I offer," she said as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Let me ask you something Empress, what is it about my clothing design that bothers you?" he asked as he leaned forward cupping his chin with his hand and staring directly into her eyes.

* * * * * 

Em stiffened. She looked back down at the drawings in her hands.

"Frankly, Nicola, these clothes are better suited on a nudist beach than actual wear. I can't see any woman of my stature wearing them comfortably. Even the evening clothes that I choose to carry are picked with the larger woman's body in mind." 

"I see, and you think that a "larger woman" would not be comfortable in this design? Or is it you, Em, that wouldn't be comfortable wearing it?" he asked his voice going husky,

"Whether or not I choose to wear a particular design of clothing has nothing to do with whether or not I would purchase it for my shop," Em replied as she twirled the pencil through her fingers.

"I can totally understand that. No smart business woman would ever base her final decisions on her personal feelings alone. That is why I think you should let me have some "large women" as you call them, try on my clothing and have a 'feedback' session."

"A feedback session?" she asked arching one dark eyebrow at him.

"Yes, a honest rant and rave about my designs and how each woman feels - and how their significant other would like or even dislike my designs.

"And what would be the catch?" Em asked warily.

"What makes you think that there's a catch?" he asked.

"There's always a catch, Mr Rambaudi. So what is it?"

"The only thing I want is for you to personally try my designs. I want you to feel the difference between being a beautiful woman and feeling like one," he said before standing up and walking towards the desk. Em drew a deep but quick breath before surging out of her chair.

"Whether or not I feel beautiful is none of your business," Em said stiffly as she moved around the desk. She handed him the sheaf of papers.

"My my, I do believe you have a bit of temper there, Empress. But who are you lying to? I saw the flash of desire and intrigue in your eyes. You hid it quickly but for a brief moment it was there.  I can tell my ideas have stirred your senses. Why not try my designs?"

"As if I would subject myself to the indignity of wearing something that is better suited to a sex shop," Em said as she walked towards the open door of her office. "Thank you for showing me your designs but I am sorry but I will have to pass."

"I think you are being a bit closed minded, Em. Why not let me arrange the showing? You can even decide on the women to try them. Maybe some of your most loyal customers. Even if it is just to put me in my place. If they completely hate my designs, I'll take my entire line elsewhere," Nicola said as he stopped just inches from her. Em swallowed roughly as she had to lift her eyes to look up at him. It was a new experience for her. 

She caught her breath as he tipped his head down towards her.

"And if they like it?" she asked softly -- breathlessly.

"If they love it, then you buy my designs AND I get to see you in one of them." he breathed across her soft parted lips.

"Nicola..." she moaned as his breath teased her parted lips.

"So do we have a deal, Em? Will you give me what I want," he asked, his voice gravelly with desire.

"I...I..." she mumbled as she lifted her head to bring their lips closer together.

"Yes, mi bella, " he prompted, his Italian accent deeper than it had been earlier.

"Okay," she sighed as she waited for him to bring his mouth against hers. 

"Here's my card," He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out his business card. He slipped it down the open vee of her blouse. She inhaled sharply as the blunt edges of the card teased her swollen breasts. A small growl filled the room as he gazed down at her heaving cleavage.

"Call me when you know what sizes you need, Em. I'll have them made up and bring them over," he said as he stepped back -- away from her...away from temptation.

"What?" she asked weakly.

"Call me when you're ready," he said as he turned and walked back to her desk to retrieve his briefcase. He tossed his design sketches onto the desk top before turning back towards the dazed Em.

"I can't believe you did that," Em said with narrowed eyes as she watched him come back within kissing distance.

"What? Slip my card down your blouse, mi bella? Or not giving you the kiss that you wanted?" he asked coolly as he stopped in front of her.

"Used your sex appeal to make me change my mind about your designs! Do you have no shame?" she hissed before jerking the card out of her blouse. 

"Once you get to know me, Empress, you will realize that there is little that embarrasses me, let alone causes me shame," he said with a wink as he walked by her.

"Fuck!" she muttered under her breath but Nicola paused before swinging back around. His briefcase dropped to the floor.

"Don't I wish," he answered before jerking her flush against his hard body. This time there was no build up or teasing - he tipped his head and covered her surprised lips with his.  A mutual moan escaped both of them as he thrust his tongue between her parted lips. Within mere moments Em had forgotten why she was angry with him. Without thought or intent, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he continued to kiss the breath out of 

her. He responded by backing her up against the closed office door. 

She whimpered when he jerked his mouth from hers. A soft gasp escaped her when his mouth slid through 

her hair to land against the shell of her ear. It turned into a moan as his tongue traced around the whorls of her ear before dipping inside.  She shivered helplessly in his arms as sensations raced down her neck to settle in both her nipples and her womb. 

He cursed raggedly before jerking away from her. She slumped against the closed door and watched as he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket. Pressing it against his lips, he removed all traces of her lipstick off of his rugged mouth. 

"Damn, mi bella you are more potent than 100 proof whiskey," he said.

* * * * * 

Em sighed as she sank into the tub of bubbles. Every part of her body still tingled from her earlier encounter with Nicola. She couldn't believe that she allowed him to grope her less than ten minutes after meeting him. He was very tempting but she had a firm rule about men that she dated. She never dated anyone that she did business with. It just wasn't good business. Jilted lovers had a tendency to smear one's name and make the person look like a fool... and she was no body's fool. 

"Damn it!" she groaned as she sank under the water. Because she knew even though Nicola was a man that she might end up doing business with, her traitorous body wanted him. While she had a feeling that he would be the one that made her climax for the very first time. It frustrated her that the only way that she was able to ever come was by herself, alone. Even in the presence of another she could not bring herself to climax. And 

after the third man that had failed to bring her to orgasm, she had given up on ever finding a man that would be able to push her past the point of no return. But Nicola Rambaudi might be the one to give her first orgasm with a man.

* * * * * 

Nicola stared at the opaque fabric in front of him. He was trying to work on his design but the sexy Em kept pushing to the forefront of his mind. It was unusual to find a woman that he didn't have to break his back to kiss. At six foot seven, he towered over most women. The novelty of being almost eye to eye with a woman was refreshing. Not to mention that every inch of Empress Chikowski had felt wonderful against him. The memory of her luscious body pressed against him, sent a surge of desire through him. The memory of their kiss caused his cock to stir. He shifted in his seat trying to push the heated memories to the back of his mind.

Nicola looked up from his sewing table as his brother walked into his work room. 

"Hey little brother, how did the meeting with the owner of Empress's go?" Sergio asked as he stopped next to Nicola.

"You set me up!" Nicola said as he continued to pin the pattern on the material in front of him.

"What! Moi? I would never do that!" Sergio protested as he watched his brother picked up his sewing shears.

"Don't give me that Sergio. Ever since you married Rachel you have been trying to get me to settle down. When did you meet her?" Nicola asked as he made the first cut. The sharp rasp echoed through the room.

"Who?"

"Empress. When did you meet her?" Nicola looked up and meet his brother's sheepish grin head on.

"She's a friend of Rachel's. She met her when Amy needed a bridesmaid dress. They went to Empress's 

to find the perfect dress."

"And you thought that she would be perfect for me?" he asked as he turned the material and made another cut.

"Well, you have to admit that she is definitely your type," Sergio said defensively.

"I don't have a type, Serigo." 

"Admit it, you find her attractive." 

"Whether I find her attractive or not, nothing is going to happen." 

"And why is that?" his brother asked.

"I don't mix business and pleasure."

"And once the business is done?" 

Nicola looked up at his brother with a huge grin.

"All bets are off."

* * * * * 

Em had just finished her first cup of coffee when Heidi knocked on her office door. She motioned for Heidi to join her. In front of her she once again had Nicola's designs spread across her desk. 

"Dressing casual today, Boss?" Heidi asked as she propped her hip on the edge of the desk.

"I didn't feel like dressing up. I plan on staying in the office. I have to set up a test group for this design," 

Em replied as she stood and stretched. She walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself another cup.

"Wow! These are pretty risque!" Heidi said from behind her.

"I know. Mr Rambaudi seems to think that our customers might actually go for it. I still think that they are better suited the sex shop down the street but I agreed to this test group. It will be worth it to put him in his place," Em said as she brought the cup to her mouth.

"Do I sense some friction between you and the sexy Mr Rambaudi?" 

Em paused. She turned around to look at Heidi. Then a smile lit up her face.

"I plan on driving him crazy." 

"What! What did you do with my boss?" Heidi asked -- shock evident in her voice.

Em just smiled mischievously before turning back to her coffee.  She had come to the realization that what was good for the goose was good for the gander.  If Nicola thought he could use his sex appeal to sway her into buying his design then she wasn't above using what little sex appeal she had to distract him from his goal. 

* * * * * 

Em sighed with satisfaction as she hung the phone. She had managed to fulfill the all the slots for her test group. She picked up the business card that Nicola had given her. She really needed to call him and give him the correct sizes for each woman.  She tapped the end of the card to her lips.  She wasn't sure if she could handle talking to him just yet. After the long night that she had spent dreaming about him, she didn't 

know if her will power was up to even doing something as simple as talking to him on the phone.

She was startled when the phone rang. She waited for Heidi to answer it up front, but after it had rung for the fourth time and the answering machine picked up, she realized that Heidi must have been busy with a customer. 

She nearly whimpered when Nicola's masculine voice filled the office. And unlike most people he had no problem talking to the machine.

" Ciao, mi bella, I was wondering if you were being a brav'ragazza and have the list of sizes for me. You know the sooner you get them for me - the sooner I can see you in my design.  And mi bella I have been imagining you in it all day. So give me a call, so we can make my fantasy come true."

Em moaned as her head dropped onto the desk. The sneaky bastard! She lifted her head and stared at the machine as if it were the most vile of things. She would show him his fantasy, she resolved. She would give him a peak and then jerk it away. She was going to show Mr. Rambaudi who would come out on top, she vowed. She grabbed the paper with the appropriate sizes on it and stood up. Grabbing her car keys and her wallet along with his card, she headed out the door. She would show him a thing or two.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 11



* * * * * 

Nicola smiled as he hung the phone. He wondered how Em was going to react to his message. She was such an uptight little...well okay she wasn't little but she was definitely full of inhibitions. He would love to get her to come to his private beach and strip away all those little inhibitions, along with those stuffy clothes that she wore.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Sergio said with a laugh.

"What?" he asked arching his eyebrow at his brother.

"I thought you said that you said that you don't mix business with pleasure!" 

"Aw, but I don't. The call is just carefully placed bait. If I don't challenge her, she will stall as long as possible before giving me the information. And the sooner I get the information..."

"The sooner you finish the deal and get the girl?" Sergio finished for him.

* * * * * 

Em stood in front of her open closet, staring at it's meager offerings. Sure, she had business suits galore and a few nice dresses, but not a lot in the way of what her mother called hooker clothes. And that was exactly what she wanted to wear for her meeting with Nicola. She wanted to drive him absolutely crazy. She wanted to give 

him a peak of what she had but still hold it out of his reach.  Her eyes lit on a tan leather skirt and top that Heidi had given her last Halloween along with a joke about her being Zena, the warrior princess. She had worn it only once at the Halloween party that she had thrown at her shop. If the reactions of the men that had attended 

were any indication - then the two piece outfit was sure to be right up Mr Nicola's alley. Pulling it from her closet, she fingered the soft supple leather and decided why not? You only live once.

* * * * * 

Sergio stuck his head into Nicola's design shop interrupting once again what little progress Nicola had made.

"Is there something you need brother?" Nicola asked irritated at another interruption.

"There is someone here to see you, little brother," he said as he stepped further into the room. 

"I'm busy!" Nicola said coolly as he attempted to return to his work.

"Do you really want me to tell Empress Chikowski that you don't have time for her, Nicola?" Sergio asked softly.

Nicola's head flew up and surprise - then pleasure filled his handsome face. 

"Hell no. Of course I have time for her,"  He laid his sheers back down and took off the elegant eyeglass frames that he wore when working with delicate fabric.  

"I figured as much. Just don't swallow your tongue when you see her," Sergio warned before shutting the door behind him.  Nicola frowned at his brother's choice of words. Why would he swallow his tongue? He had plenty of ideas for his tongue and Empress and none of them had anything to do with swallowing. Well maybe

....he mused as there was a soft knock on his door. 

"Come in," he called as fingered the fabric in front of him while still thinking about the way he could use his tongue on her.

"Good afternoon, Nicola. I got your message and I had some errands on this end of town so I decided to drop the list of sizes off instead of calling," Em said as she neared the work table. 

"Holy shit!" Nicola growled as he got his first look at her. His cock hardened in a rush. No wonder his brother had told him not to swallow his tongue. Empress looked like every man's fantasy wearing soft leather. He had expected her to have a wonderful figure after he had held her against him earlier but he had never expected her to be a total bombshell in disguise. 

"Pardon?" Em asked softly, arching a dark eyebrow at him. If she was pleased by his lapse of manners, she didn't outwardly show it. 

"Damn, I am sorry mi bella.  I wasn't expecting to see you today and you look wonderful. It must have been quite the errand for you to dress up in such an....attractive outfit," He said as he slowly stood keeping the work table between them. Due to its high surface, he was able to hide the fact that he was highly aroused. He was never more grateful that he had 'special ordered' the cutting table with his height in mind.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your work but it sounded like you were anxious to get started. In fact when you called I was in the process of the setting up your focus group," She walked closer to his work table, her eyes curious.

"It's no problem. In fact I'm working on the design right now. Would you like to take a look at it?" He asked as she stopped next to the table. 

* * * * * 

"Could I?" she asked a bit breathlessly as she drew in a deep breath filled with the spicy aftershave that he was wearing.  If she had thought he looked yummy in the designer suit that he had been wearing the day before, he was mouth-watering in the the faded jeans and soft cotton shirt. When he moved around the desk, she immediately noticed that he was barefoot. It was obvious that he was quite at ease inside this room.

"Of course." He said as he took her hand and guided her to the other side of the room where a silk screen was set up. He moved the screen to one side so she could see the mannequin that it hid. She gazed at the beautiful dress that graced it. It seemed to hug and flow with the mannequin's curves. 

"Wow. It's beautiful. It gives the illusion that there is nothing there but still doesn't reveal anything that would get you arrested. What ever made you think of such an idea?" she asked as she extended her hand, instinctively wanting to feel the fabric. She forced her hand to drop before she actually made contact. What 

the hell was she doing?

"Go ahead, Em. Touch it," he said huskily beside her. 

She slowly did as he bade and nearly moaned aloud at the soft buttery feel of the fabric under her fingertips. Even though she managed not to moan - a soft gasp managed to escape her. Beside her she heard him answering with a growl. Startled she looked over at him.  She nearly whimpered when she saw the desire in his eloquent dark eyes. 

"It's a very sensuous fabric," she finally managed to say as she jerked her gaze back to the dress. 

"Yes, it is," he said as he quickly jerked away from her side and headed back over to his work table. "You said you had the sizes for me?" he said briskly, his tone at odds with the huskiness of his voice.

"Ah, yes," Em said as she reached into her hand bag and pulled out a folded piece of stationery. She walked over and handed it to him. She watched as he picked up a pair of glasses and placed them on his elegant nose. She was taken back but smiled at his gesture. 

"I need them for the small work," he explained with a laugh. "I'm just a bit near-sighted." 

She watched as he scanned the stationery. 

"I hope I got all the measurements that you needed," She said nervously. 

He glanced up from the stationery. 

"There's only one thing that's missing," he said as he stood and grabbed the soft measuring tape.  She squeaked as he approached her with in his hand.

"What did I miss?" she asked backing up.

"Going somewhere?" he taunted as she backed into the closed door.

"Yes. I have an errand..." she trailed off.

"Hmmm, I thought you ran your errand already but none the less, I'll make this quick," he assured her as he stopped a few inches from her.

"What?" she said breathlessly as he slid the measuring tape behind her. 

"You forgot your measurements," he said his mouth mere millimeters from hers. She could feel his breath against her parted lips.

"My measurements?"

"Yes. I need them for your dress. Relax," he said as she jerked in response. She gasped as she felt the tape wrap around her waist. She cringed as he pulled it flat against her gently rounded stomach. She flinched as he gazed down at the measuring tape to read the number on it. 

"Thirty-one and half," he murmured before sliding the tape down her stomach to her hips. She cringed again as it settled around them. He crouched down and then tightened the tape. She looked down at him as he soothed the tape into place. He glanced up at her with a half smile. 

"Forty three even," he said softly before rising up once more.  She drew a deep breath as the tape slid back up caressing her sensitive body before it settled on her back. 

"Relax, mi bella," he whispered. She nearly moaned as he pulled the tape around her and it caressed her nipples. He looked down and whistled softly as he saw the measurement. "Forty five and three eighths. Impressive, mi bella. And very tempting," he added before slowly releasing the tape. She drew a agged breath as the tape fell away and dragged across her hardened nipples. 

* * * * * 

Nicola stood at the window of his work room and watched as Em escaped in the yellow cab that had just pulled up. He rubbed the back of his neck and nearly growled in frustration at her hasty retreat. He couldn't finish this soon enough! It had taken all of his willpower not to throw her across his work desk and have his way with her.  And if her reaction was any thing to go on, she had been affected just as much as he had been. 

He nearly groaned when he heard the quick tap of two knocks, a pause and then three more. Only one person knocked like that. He turned and watched as his brother's wife walked in. 

"Hey Rachel," he said as he walked back over to his work table.

"How's my favorite brother this afternoon?" she asked as she walked over and hopped up on his table. 

"Good. You know one of these days, Rach, you are going to end up with a pin stuck in your ass," he commented as he soothed the pattern back out and reached for his pins.

"So how did it go?" she asked him innocently.

"How did what go?" he asked as he deftly pinned the pattern onto the fabric.

"Empress's visit. I know she was here. I saw her get into the elevator," Rachel said as she watched him cut the soft luscious fabric.

"And what makes you think she was here to see me?" he asked casually as he turned the fabric and continued to cut with great precision.

"Look at me, Nicki," she scolded.

Nicola's head shot up. 

"How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that?" he grumbled.

"About as many as I've asked you not to call me Rach?" she said dryly. "Now quit avoiding my question. How did it go?"

"Fine, Rach. She stopped by to give me the measurements for the focus group. I will be happy when we get through this. I think she would look stunning in this design", he admitted with a smile.

"So YOU do find her attractive. I told Sergio that you wouldn't be able to resist her!" she exclaimed.

"And you couldn't resist trying to play matchmaker?" he asked as he leaned back and folded his arms across his broad chest.

"No. You haven't had a steady girl-friend in years, Nicola. And that's a shame. Em is a wonderful lady. I know she's not the type that you would normally date - but she has a heart of gold."

"How many times do I have to tell you and Sergio that I don't have a type!" 

"Really? Since I've know you, I've only seen you date petite blonds,"

"Come on, Rach! We live in California. I've dated brunettes and red-heads too." 

"And the fact that none of them have even come up to your shoulder?"

"I'm a freak of nature! Hardly anyone comes up to my shoulder, shrimp," he said as he surged to his feet and lifted her off the table and carried her squirming body to the door. It wasn't much of challenge. Rachel was five nothing and weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet with rocks in her pockets. He lifted bolts of cloth that were heavier than Rachel. He stuck his head out the door and yelled for his brother.

Sergio stuck his head out of the office two doors down the hall.

"Come get this woman of yours, Sergio!" 

"Well just throw her!" Sergio joked as he stepped out into the hall. It was running joke between the two brothers. If Nicola was a freak at six seven, Sergio wasn't far behind at six five. They had been teasing Rachel about it for months.

"Okay," he said good naturedly as he prepared to toss Rachel.

"Don't you dare!" she squealed as she smacked at him. He smiled devilishly. 

"Are you going to let my love life or my 'lack of it' alone?" he asked.

"But...."

"Okay that's it!" he scolded as he launched his petite sister in an arch down the hall at his brother. Sergio rushed forward and caught his wife. Nicola turned back to his workroom listening to his sister-in-law as she pleaded with his brother. He smiled as he heard the office door slam. Sergio would keep the little matchmaker occupied for the rest of the afternoon.

* * * * * 

Two weeks later

Em looked around the room at the women that had gathered for the focus group. She smiled nervously at Heidi. Tonight was the first feedback session on Nicola's design. She squirmed uncomfortably as her body predictably grew moist at even the thought of him. She had made herself scarce after the encounter in his work room. 

She had come unbearably close to raping the man.  

Heidi came over and stood next to her. 

"So what do you think, Em? Are we going to be one of the first shops to carry Nicola's new design or not?" 

"I don't know, Heidi," she said honestly as some of her most loyal customers chatted amongst themselves.

"How are you two beautiful ladies tonight?" Nicola asked as he joined them.

"Fine," Em said as one of her customers waved at her. "Excuse me."

* * * * * 

Nicola watched as Em scurried away. He turned to Heidi.  With Em avoiding him, he had become very friendly with her assistant. She was a pleasant enough young lady but she didn't do a thing for him.  He wanted Em and he had decided that he was going to have to have her.

"Still avoiding me, I see," he said as he took a drink from the water bottle that he held in one calloused hand.

"I don't know what has gotten into her lately, Nicola. She's been on pins and needles since this has started," Heidi admitted.

Nicola thought about reassuring her that her boss would soon be in a much mellower mood. He had figured out that Empress was a very private woman and he didn't want to cause any gossip about her to her employees. 

"Oh, it's probably just nerves about this. I know she's been wanting to put me in my place," he replied as he screwed the cap back on his bottle. 

"She did say something about that." Heidi admitted as they watched Em go around the room and pass out the questionnaires. 

"It looks like we're ready to get started. Shall we join them?" Nicola asked as he offered Heidi his arm.

"Lets get this party started." she agreed.

* * * * * 

Em drew a deep breath when Nicola stopped to stand next to her. She nearly whimpered as his aftershave teased her nose.  She had to get this whole thing under control and herself first! 

"Thank you, ladies, for taking the time to come out tonight." Nicola said in a deep voice. "I know I would love to have all rave reviews but that is not the sole purpose for this focus group. I want to hear what is good about my designs but I also want to know what I can do to make them better. Empress was nice enough to give me each of your measurements and the dresses that I made for each of you was made specifically with your measurements in mind.  So please feel free to be honest with me. I assure you that I have a thick skin. 

So shall we begin?" he finished. 

* * * * * 

Em drifted from group to group of the ladies. After his opening statement, he had suggested that the ladies break up into groups of four and discuss the questionnaire. So far most of the feedback that she had heard was positive. They loved the style and quality of the design. Nicola did excellent work. There were a few negatives... such as where the women would actually wear the dress. Much like Empress, the women were concerned about the way that the dress displayed their ample bodies. They weren't sure that they would be able to wear the dress in public. And if they were going to spend their hard earned money on it -- was it worth it for just a dress that they would wear only in the privacy of their own home. 

"Hey there, mi bella, " Nicola said softly as he walked up behind Em. She shivered a bit as awareness ran down her spine. The man was lethal. He needed to wear bells so he couldn't sneak up on unsuspecting women, she thought.

"Nicola," she replied as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"So are you ready to model my design?" he asked softly enough that only she could hear him.

"Counting your chickens before they hatch, are we?" she said softly.

"Some of the things you say," he chuckled.

* * * * * 

Em shut the door as the last of the women left.  She flipped the lock and leaned against it. What a night. She gazed around the room and debated on whether or not to clean up the mess or leave it for the morning. But as tempting as leaving it sounded, her practical Midwest upbringing would not let her. She grabbed the trash bin and started to clean up the mess.  

Nicola watched from the shadows as Em carried the trash can around the room and picked up the discarded cups, plates, and napkins. He had told Heidi that he would help Em clean up when she had mentioned earlier that she had to get home before her husband had to leave for work. She had felt guilty about leaving the mess for Em.  Walking out of the shadows, he walked over and gathered up a handful of garbage.

"Here, let me help with that," he said, referring to the trash can. Em jumped in surprise.

"Dear God, I swear I'm going to put a bell around your neck, Nicola. You scared me," Em said as she 

pressed her hand over her heart.

"Sorry. I promised Heidi I would stay and help. She felt guilty about having to go home," He said as he gathered up the last of the trash.  "So what's next?" he asked.

"I need to fold up the chairs and put them back in the closet, along with folding tables." She said. 

"Well lets get to it. You look like you are tired, Em. Sooner we get this done the sooner you can go home," he said softly.

"What? no sexual innuendo?" she asked him.

"Hey, I can be a nice guy, Empress. Just don't tell anyone," he joked.

"I'm sure, no one would believe me any way," she retorted.

"Just you wait. Tomorrow all bets are off, Em." 

"You're just gloating that you won," Em protested.

"I would like to think we both won, Empress," he said as he carried two of the chairs into the supply closet. 

"How do you figure? You aren't the one that is going to be damn near naked." 

"Oh, is that the issue? If you wanted me naked all you had to do was say so," he said as he lifted the chairs =

onto the special rack inside of the closet. 

"I didn't say that!" she said quickly.

"Oh," he said as he looked over at her knowingly. He knew damn well that she wanted him as much as he 

wanted her. This balancing game he had been playing was finally over. And come tomorrow he was going 

to start pursuing her. 

* * * * * 

Em dusted off her hands as she shoved the last chair into the closet. 

"Coming through," Nicola said as he carried the final table into the closet.  He propped it up against the wall before wiping his forehead on his sleeve. He had gotten quite the workout carrying in the tables. Em had tried to help him but he had shooed her away.  

"Thanks for all the help," Em said as she secured the table by shoving the chair rack up against it. In the process she managed to bump up against Nicola who in turn bumped the heavy door. As it started to close, Em tried to catch it. 

"Ouch," Nicola said as Em stepped on his foot with her heel. 

"Sorry, sorry, catch that door!" she had exclaimed as she tried to get around him.

"What?" he said as he tried to rub his aching foot. 

"Damn it!" she exclaimed as it snicked shut.

"What is the problem?" he asked, "we'll just open it again." 

"Go ahead," she said frostily.

He scowled at her before reaching over and grabbing the door handle. He frowned as it refused to budge.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 11



"Ah, Em, what's wrong with your door?" he asked before they were plunged into darkness.  Em's startled 

gasp gave him a vague idea of where she was.

"Why the HELL did the lights all go off?" he growled.

"What's wrong, Nicola? Scared of the dark?" she taunted. He moved towards her voice and bumped into her.

"I'll show you scared," he hissed as her delicious scent filled his nose. The slender hold he had on his overwhelming desire for her, snapped. He yanked her against him and covered her mouth with his.  He had resisted as long as he could.

* * * * * 

Em knew the moment that the door closed that it was over. She was going to be trapped in the closet with Nicola until Heidi came in the morning. And that there was no way that she was going to be able to resist him. And she wasn't wrong, she thought hazily as he thrust his tongue inside of her mouth.  All the need and desire flared to life inside of her as his tongue rubbed against hers.

She moaned when he wrenched his mouth away from hers. Their ragged breathing filled the darkness.

"The door locks automatically from the outside," she tried to explain.

"I don't care," he growled as he covered her mouth once more. When his hand covered her breast, she 

groaned. She arched into him as he teased her hard nipple with his thumb.

"Nicola, please," she whimpered. 

"Yes!" he said as he slipped his hand under her top in search of bare skin, "you don't know how long I've wanted to do this?"

Em arched across his arm and jerked as he found her breast. As he traced the outline of her nipple, she panted. 

"I want you, Em. Can I have you?" he pleaded in the darkness.

* * * * * 

Em stilled as his impassioned plea struck her.  She trembled as the desire coursed through her. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity, she thought. In the darkness, he couldn't see her body. He wouldn't be able to find her lacking.  She might actually be able to relax and let nature take it's course. 

"Yes", she whispered.

"Are you protected?" he asked hoarsely.

"No," she groaned as he released her, "do you have something?" 

"No. But that's not to say we can't do other things," he said after a moment. 

"Other things?" she said softly.

"Yes.  Come here, Em." his husky voice whispered through darkness. 

Em fumbled her way towards his voice. She nearly moaned when she came up against his half naked chest. Evidently he had taken advantage of the darkness to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt. That had been what he had done after he had released her.  Crisp hairs teased the palms of her hands as she slid them up to rest on his broad shoulders.

She nearly squealed when his hands came down and gripped her waist and lifted her off her feet. 

"Shh...relax," he said against her temple as he turned with her. 

She felt the hard surface of one of the counters that lined the one side of the closet.  She held her breath as he fumbled with the long skirt that she was wearing. Trying to help, she lifted her hips.  He managed to drag the skirt up far enough that he could step in between her spread legs. She felt the folds on her blouse loosen 

just before his calloused hands slipped inside to cup her aching breasts. She cried out softly in response. 

"Front or back?" he asked as he continued to fondle her breasts.

"What?" she gasped as his thumbs teased her hard nipples through the material.

"Help me here, Em. Does this bra open in the back or front? I've been dying to see and feel these beauties since I measured them two weeks ago," he said as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against her neck.

Em focused on his words and sent a silent prayer heavenward, that the lights were out. At times she felt like a freak of nature. Since she had been a teenager, she had to special order her bras. Add to that the fact that the first thing that most men saw was her breasts so she had a tendency to be uncomfortable about their size.  

"Em, I'm dying here," he groaned as he strung kisses down her neck. 

"Back," she answered as he fastened his mouth on the crook of her neck and shoulder. She held her breath as his fingers expertly opened the back closure of her bra. She gave a sigh of pleasure as he loosened the bra and freed her breasts. She pressed her breasts into his hands and whimpered as he squeezed and gently kneed her sensitive flesh. 

"Damn," he growled before lifting her by her waist so her freed breasts were level with his mouth. He hungrily latched onto one of her nipples. 

Em tensed as pleasure shot from her nipple to her womb.  A sharp gasp escaped her tight throat when he released one nipple to attack the other.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair to hold him to her. 

He chuckled against her as he ran his hands up and under her skirt.  His fingers brush her inner thigh before sliding around to palm her ass and pull her tight against his rock hard cock.  They both moaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  She whimpered as he released her nipple and let her slide down his chest. He stopped her slide when he spun around and pressed her back up against the nearest wall. He 

rocked against her as she cried out. 

"You're so sexy. Just stand here and let me explore," he said against her ear as he slid his fingers into under the elastic of her panties. 

"Nicola!" she pleaded as his inquisitive fingers slid between the globes of her butt.  

"What a sexy ass, you have mi brav'ragazza," he whispered before dipping his tongue inside her ear.

"Mi brav'ragazza?," she asked as his mouth slid down from her ear to land on the side of her neck. He unwrapped her legs from his waist and set her on her feet. 

"My good girl," he translated as he sank to his knees in front of her. He reached up with both hands and slowly slid her panties down her endless legs. 

"What are you...." she asked breathlessly as he draped one of her legs over his shoulder.

"Shh....I'm exploring 'other things'," he said as he pressed a kiss against her thigh, "hmmm...you smell delicious, Em." and then he nibbled her thighs.

"Oh my...." she gasped as she felt his lips press against her pussy. A moment later she felt the glide of his tongue and groaned. Her thighs began to tremble as her climax came closer. 

"hmmm," he growled against her.  She shrieked when he slid two fingers inside of her.  

"Nicola!" she pleaded. He lifted his head and his raspy breathing could be heard in the darkness.

"Yum. You are so wet, mi brav'ragazza," he said as the sound of her wetness around his fingers could be heard.  She panted as he slowly started to thrust his fingers in and out of her.  "Damn, I wish I could sink inside of you. You are so tight," he rasped just before she felt the wet heat of his mouth press against her clit.  She tossed her head as she teetered on the verge of coming. She couldn't believe it, he was actually going to come with a man! As his tongue flickered over her hard clit, he thrust his fingers 

faster inside of her, his groan of approval vibrating against her. 

"I've...I've...never....ah..." she gasped. 

"Mmmm-hmmmm," he moaned in approval.  

"Nicola!" she screamed as her climax began. 

* * * * * 

Nicola growled happily as Em's juices flooded his hand.  She tasted delicious. She was a regular wildcat, bucking against his face and fingers. If he didn't know any better, he would have swore that it was the first time she had ever been gone down on. The only thing that would have made it any better for him was if he would have been able to see her beautiful face as she came.  As she finally came down from her release, he eased his fingers from her and slowly lifted his face after giving her one last lick. He laid his head against her stomach as he waited for her to quiet. In his pants, his cock throbbed. He wished that he would have 

thought to place a condom in his pocket. He didn't know if she would reciprocate or not but maybe she would be willing to help him take matters in hand, so to speak.  

"Are you okay, mi brav'ragazza?" he asked as he slowly stood up, painfully readjusting his aching cock.

"Wow," she said, her voice full of awe and satisfaction. 

"You liked that?" he asked as he pressed his lips against hers. She moaned softly as she tasted herself -creamy salty lusciousness - on him. 

"Unbelievable," she whispered when he lifted his head. His harsh breathing filled the room. 

"Why, mi brav'ragazza? Is it so out of character for you to have a man kneeling in front of you, worshipping your body?"

"Well....I don't usually do this kind of thing in my closet," she said.

"I see. So what do you normally do in your closet?" he asked as he slowly unbuckled his belt. His cock was killing him. He needed relief, even if she wasn't going to help. As hot as he was, even listening to her sexy voice would get him off. 

Her huskily laughter teased his senses. He unbuttoned his slacks and the loud sound of his zipper filled the closed closet. 

"Nicola?" her whisper held a note of wariness.

"Shh, mi bella. I won't take anything you won't give me willingly. My little 'taste' has made me harder than hell and I am not to arrogant to take matters into my own hands," he explained as he freed his aching cock from the confines of his snug briefs. His sigh of relief echoed through the room.  For a moment there was 

silence and Nicola thought he might have shocked her. Pleasure flooded his system as he ran his hand over the head of his cock and down the shaft.  He reached under it to cup his aching balls.  He couldn't remember ever being as hard as he was now.

"Let me," her voice whispered into his ear.  He hissed as she gently bit his ear.  This was definitely a new experience for him. And one that he could get used to, he thought as she nibbled her way down his neck. He chuckled when she grabbed the neck of his dress shirt and tugged hard. The soft ping of the buttons hitting various surfaces was barely noticeable. 

"Impatient?" he growled as she pushed him back the wall where she had been such a short time ago.

"A bit. Now, just stand here and let "me" explore," she said giving him back his earlier command.

"Explore?" he gasped as she lightly bit one of his nipples.

"Other things," she said as she pressed damp kisses against his abdomen.  He pressed his head back 

against the wall when she pushed his hands away from his cock.  She replaced his hands with hers. 

"Dio mio!" he exclaimed when she licked the head and sucked him inside of her mouth.  He had hoped but hadn't dare believe Ms. Empress Chikowski would actually go down on her knees and return the favor. Not that he was going to stop her. 

"Hmm," she grumbled against him. He tensed as she cupped his balls with one hand and wrapped her 

hand around the base of him.  Her tongue was doing wicked things to him.  He could feel every brush of it against his sensitive glans as she teased the underside with the flat of her tongue. 

"Em, I..." he gritted between clenched teeth as she gently squeezed his balls and stroked her hand up and down the his shaft as she released him from her mouth to only tongue and suck the end of him. 

"You taste delicious," she informed him before sucking him back inside of her mouth before quickly releasing him, "like the air before a thunderstorm....heavy and salty." 

Nicola slid his hands into her hair and gently guided her back to his near to bursting cock. He needed her mouth on him. And now.

"Please, Em," he pleaded. 

"So hard," she cooed as she ran her hands up and down him and breathed on the head of his cock. "And mine to have?" she asked when his hips shot forward in a desperate attempt to find entrance into her mouth. 

"Fai come vuoi," he said as he fell back into the language of his youth.

"Hmmm?" she questioned as she licked the end while holding him still for her nimble tongue.

"Do as you please," he translated roughly as he released her hair and slapped his hands back against the wall. His control was fraying rapidly. He had promised her that he wouldn't force her to do anything and he was dangerously close to grabbing her head and burying his cock in her wet mouth.  It was taking all of his 

willpower to let her go at her own pace.

"I do believe I will and you know what would please me, Nicola?" she asked she licked the precum leaking from him.

"What?" he groaned, his chest heaving.

"For you to come in my mouth. Do you think that you could do that for me? In your  brav'ragazza's mouth?" she asked him as she sucked the head back into her mouth, not waiting for his reply.

"Sì!" he agreed desperately as he locked his hands behind his neck.

"Buono," she replied. 

"Dio mio," he panted as he flew over the edge at hearing her speak even the most basic phrases of his native tongue.

* * * * * 

Em sucked strongly as he filled her mouth with rope after rope of semen.  She could feel him trembling as she gentled her mouth and soft lips. 

"Empress." 

She smiled as she licked away the last traces of his release before slowly letting him drop out of her mouth. She was surprised when he didn't immediately soften. 

"Nicola?" she questioned as she ran her hand down his still hard shaft.

"Yeah?" he replied hoarsely.

"You are still hard. Didn't I please you?" she asked.

"Yes, you did! don't mind him. He's a greedy bastard," he chuckled wearily. 

"Really? Well, we'll see about that," she said naughtily before sucking him back into her mouth.

* * * * * 

Em looked at herself in the floor length mirror in Nicola's guest room. It had been a week since the episode in her closet at Empress's. They had seen each other several times since Heidi had arrived the next morning and released them from the closet. After explaining that a car had hit the transformer near the shop, she apologized for not releasing them sooner. It had knocked out all the electricity and blocked the road. It was reassuring to Em to know that the fail safe that she had installed after the first time the door had locked her in, wasn't actually defective. 

Even though there had been ample opportunity for Em to further their sexual relationship and she had made the offer but Nicola seemed a bit standoffish since then. Maybe he was satisfied with the oral sex that she had given him and wanted nothing further from her. 

So now, she was at his house, in his guest bedroom, trying on the dress as she had promised.  She stared in disbelief at how the dress molded to her figure, accenting her curves but hiding her obvious flaws. Or what she saw as flaws. But now did she have the courage to go downstairs and face it's creator?

* * * * * 

Nicola paced back in forth as he spoke with his brother.

"Are you sure you know what you are doing, Nicola?" Sergio asked.

"No, but if I don't try, I'll never know. She's crawled under my skin and I have to find out if she will accept me."

"This is a rather harsh way to do this. Does she realize that your invitation to your private beach is actually an invitation to the family nudist reunion?" 

"No." 

"You are braver man than I am. Let hope she doesn't want your coglione on a silver platter." 

"Rachel took to it well," Nicola said as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Yes, she did but she loves me," Sergio agreed as his wife came into the living room.

"Well, I am hoping that with everyone here wearing our new design it will ease her into my life." Nicola said sheepishly.

"Lets hope it doesn't back fire on you." Sergio replied as he took Rachel's hand and led her outside to join the rest of the Rambaudi family.

"Dio mio, I hope not." he whispered softly. "because I'm in love her."

* * * * * 

Nicola took a deep breath as he walked up the stairs to check on Em. She had been hiding in his guest room for the last hour. He was dying to see how she looked in his design.  Knocking softly on the door he waited for her to bid him to enter.

"Yes," came her hesitant response.

"It's me, mi brav'ragazza," Nicola said as he slowly opened the door. He stepped into the room and caught his breath as he saw her standing in front of the mirror. Her body showed off his creation to perfection. True, she wasn't a petite woman as Rachel or any other woman he had met. But he would never have to worry about hurting her when passion had him wrapped in it's coils. She now more than ever reminded him of an amazon princess.  His amazon, he hoped.

"I can't believe that you talked me into this, Nicola. This dress is quite scandalous." Em said as she turned to face him. She was surprised when he walked over and took her hands in his. She could see warmth and caring in their deep chocolate depths. 

"You look beautiful, mi bella" he assured her as he slowly coaxed her out of the room. 

"Where are we going?" she asked softly.

"For a walk. On my private beach. Come, mi brav'ragazza, be a bit daring with me." he urged.

"But you are not the one that is half naked." she protested as he led her to the sliding glass door that led out to the beach.

"No, mi bella, I am not half naked," he agreed as he opened the silk robe that he had been wearing when she arrived at his house. 

She gasped when he slid the robe off and stood before her in all his naked glory. 

"Nicola!" she gasped.

"Zio Nicola!" a small girl's voice yelled from the beach.

* * * * * 

Em swung around and blushed to the roots of her hair. Running up the beach was a small brunette that was naked as a jaybird. Or so she thought until, the little girl cme within a few feet of her. She was actually w earing a smaller version of the dress that Em herself was wearing and she looked as if she might be all of five years old.

"Buon pomeriggio, Rosario," he said as he dropped down on one knee and hugged the little girl, oblivious to the fact that he was kneeling on the sand naked as the day he was born. When he stood back up, he picked the little girl up effortlessly. He turned to Em, who was standing there with a shocked look on her face.

"Say hello, to Empress, Rosario. She is a close friend of mine," he told the girl softly. 

"Buon pomeriggio, Empress." the little girl said, her Italian accent thick. 

"Em, this is my niece. Her father and mother are visiting me from Italy. In fact we are having a family reunion this afternoon. I would love for you to stay and join us." Nicola said softly as a woman rushed up from the beach, to claim her daughter. 

"Rosario, I told you to wait for Nicola to bring his friend down," the woman scolded softly as she took the little girl from Nicola. "I am so sorry, Nicola. She got away from me." the woman said before hurrying back down the beach. Em couldn't believe her eyes. The mother too was wearing Nicola's design. 

"So what do you say, Empress. Would you do me the honor of being my date for the reunion?" he asked 

huskily as he pressed her hand against his beating heart.

"Nicola, you can't mean to go down there like that!" Em gasped as she stared as his nude body.

"Why?" he asked innocently.

"Because there are children..." she said as she gestured to the people that were gathered further down the beach.

"Em, look at me," he whispered.

She turned and tried to keep her eyes on his.

"Mi brav'ragazza, I want you to understand something. The human body has nothing to be ashamed off. Whether a person is short or tall, slender or fat or somewhere in between, the human body is beautiful. And my famiglia celebrates that. This is why I purchased a home that had a private beach."

"You are telling me that your entire family are practicing nudists?" she squeaked.




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 11



"Yes, back home, Em, nudism is very common, we don't hide our bodies. Today in honor of you, my 

famigilia has chosen to wear my design. I am aware that not every woman or man feels comfortable walking around in the nude. Hence my inspiration for my designs. Why not give to those who aren't ready for the reality of being naked, the illusion of it while still preserving their modesty. My famigila has chosen 

to do this as a gift to you but do not be shocked if later they decide to take them off." he said gently.

Em closed her eyes at the thought of her family doing such a thing. It just boggled her mind.

"Won't you at least stay and let me show you the difference between nudity and taking pleasure in the 

human body?"

Em looked around in a daze, her mind whirling.

"Why would they do this?" she finally asked.

"Because I have told them that I love you, cara mia." he said as he stared out at the water.

"You love me?" she squeaked. 

He turned back to face her.

"Yes. I fell in love with you the first time you gave me hell for trying to use my charms on you." he said as he gently touched her hair.

"You sure have a hell of way showing it!" she stated hotly.

"Why are you so angry with me, Empress?" he asked.

"I thought that you didn't want me anymore," she whispered.

"Not want you?" he asked in disbelief.

"You haven't seemed interested since that night in my closet." 

"Oh, cara mia, the only reason I didn't is because I wouldn't have been able to let you go if I had 

known the pleasure of possessing you fully.  And I need to make sure that you can accept all of me. 

And this is what this is about." he said gesturing to his family on the beach. "So will you come with me?" 

he asked. 

Em looked up in his honest eyes and knew that even though she was scared, she had to give this brave man a chance. He had laid everything on the line without asking for anything more than a chance from her.

"I'll go." she agreed and tentatively held her hand out to him. 

"Grazie, mi brav'ragazza," he whispered against the palm of her hand before pressing his lips against hers.

* * * * * 

Six months later

Empress stood at her husband's side and watched as her new nieces and nephews frolicked in the ocean 

waves. She found it almost a dream - like a dream come true. She had finally found a man who loved her as she was and was just as passionate about her as he was his work. Growing up in a small town in Iowa, she never one day dreamed that she would ever be standing on the beach naked as the day she was born and feel comfortable about it. But with a bit of coaxing from her sister and a lot of love from her husband - she had finally made it.

"Zia Em, you're naked!" Rosario clapped with glee as she rushed up to Em and tackled her legs.  Em smiled fondly at the little girl. 

"So it seems," Em said as she effortlessly picked up the little girl. "but how could I let a little girl like you, do something that I couldn't?" she teased before tickling the little girl. Rosario giggled and squirmed to be let down. Em released her with a sigh of pleasure and watched as the girl ran off to join her cousins in the warm waters.

"Thank you, mi mogile ." Nicola said as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back 

against his nude body.

"No, thank you, Nicola, for breaking me out of my shell," she replied as she relaxed in his arms....

and they all lived happily ever after.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 13



They weren't really little and they weren't really pigs; they were just called that by way of being disrespected by their pimp. Actually, they were all beautiful young black women and classmates, who had been working as prostitutes to pay their way through college. To keep the cops or other pimps from hassling them, they signed on as members of the stable of girls maintained by Tyrone Wolfe, who was known to be the baddest pimp in town. After graduation, when they were ready to leave Tyrone and look for more conventional jobs, the pimp strongly objected to their leaving. 

"You pigs ain't gonna leave me 'til I say so, and that ain't gonna be for a long fuckin' time. Maybe never. I been taking good care a you, and I'm gonna keep doin' it. Any of you whores try leavin' me, you gonna get messed up bad. Ya got that?" 

"Yes, Tyrone," the women answered him, and repeated it when he insisted on hearing their assent again. All three of them were afraid of the man because they knew he meant what he said. 

They also meant what they said about leaving the life of prostitution. The money had been good; the hours were short, and the work had been less tiring and onerous than many other jobs would have been, but there was no future in it, except drug addiction and maybe prison. None of them had ever intended continuing in the profession, once they earned their degrees, and they still didn't. The difference now was that they would have to be sneaky enough to get away from Tyrone and avoid his informants, which included pretty much all the local underworld and a substantial part of the city police department. They were sure there were others, whom none of them knew about, who would rat them out in a minute to get on the good side of the king pimp. 

The other two recent graduates looked up to Francine, because she was the smartest of the group, and believed her new degree in Business Administration with an emphasis on Accounting could be her ticket to the good life. She was practical enough to have seen that major as being the most promising, and her presence on the Dean's List for her entire college career almost guaranteed her a position in a major accounting firm, with a partnership in the near future. 

"What are we going to do, Frankie," asked Theresa. "I don't want to stay on the streets any longer than I have to. I know we can all do better, but what are we going to do about Tyrone?" She was less practical than her friend, and had just earned her bachelors' degree in Liberal Arts, but was unsure what she would do with it. 

"Nothing yet," Francine answered. "Not until we start our periods." 

The three women shared an apartment, which had been fine with Tyrone Wolfe, since the living arrangements allowed him to keep track of them more easily. As usual with women sharing living quarters, all three of them could always count on beginning their menses on the same day, which made for a rough few days every month, but the shared apartment was economical and had helped them stay clear of debt while attending college. They had even been able to put away a substantial amount of money in the bank by the time they graduated. 

"Can't we just walk away?" asked the third of Tyrone's "pigs." She had majored in the History of Art while in college, even though she had no idea what she would ever do with the degree. She just liked art in general, and always had, and hoped something would turn up. 

"No, Carrie. We've made Tyrone suspicious now, so we have to keep working for him until our periods start. He won't expect us to show up when that happens, so it'll give us a couple of days to get away from him." 

Although the other two didn't like the idea, they had to admit that Francine was right. As always, she was being the most practical of the trio. The next evening, clad in their short, bright dresses with the plunging necklines, they all turned up at the meeting place where Tyrone was expecting them. He surveyed them critically. 

"Okay, you bitches get to work. And I don't wanna hear no more 'a yer bullshit about quittin' on me." 

Tyrone was glad to see the young women turned out and ready to work, but he didn't trust them. They were three of the prizes in his first-class stable of prostitutes, young and sexy and beautiful, and in demand from the johns who wanted to do business with him. He had already made a lot of money from their work, and he intended to make a lot more, but he knew that could only happen if he kept them in line by violence or threats of violence. 

The boss pimp gave them their assignments, and went about doing the other things that needed to be done in his line of work while Francine, Theresa and Carrie went about their part of his work. When they met him after all their assignments had been completed and all their johns satisfied, he took what he considered to be his share of what they had earned. All three women made sure they didn't hold out anything, because they didn't want to attract any undue attention from their pimp or do anything to antagonize him any more than they already had. 

With the night's work done, Tyrone drove them to their apartment in his big Lincoln Navigator while dropping off the rest of his stable. He used the SUV while supervising his women; otherwise, he drove a baby-blue Mercedes, as befit his status as the city's leading pimp. 

Things went on that way for another two weeks, until Francine called Tyrone one morning. "Hello, Tyrone," she greeted him apologetically. I just started my period today and I won't be able to work tonight. I didn't ask the other girls yet, but I'm sure they did too." 

"Okay, Whore. I'll see you and the others in a couple of days. Don't take too fuckin' long." 

Tyrone knew that sometimes one of his girls would claim to be in her period so she could goof off for a few days, and he kept track of the dates for all of them in his stable. He knew it was that time of the month for all three who shared the apartment, and they wouldn't be able to work. Once in a while, he got a special request from a john who wanted a woman who was in her menses, but he didn't happen to have one for that evening. 

The three escapers knew they only had a few days to leave the city, and that they had to make the most of them. "Where are you going to go?" Francine asked the other two. She was worried about their lack of practicality, and was afraid of what would happen if Tyrone caught up with any of them. Not only would he brutally punish the woman he caught, he might somehow be able to trace the others through her.

"I'm going to go to my parents' farm, where they raise hay and straw," Carrie answered. "It's almost a hundred miles west of here, and Tyrone wouldn't have any way to know about the place." 

Francine had her doubts about that. "Are you sure you'll be safe there? I don't trust the SOB one inch. He might know about the farm and, if he does, he'll be sure to go there looking for you." 

"There's no way Tyrone can know anything about the farm. I've never told anybody but you two where I'm from. Let's keep in touch, though. We've all got our cell phones." 

Theresa answered the same question. "I'm going to my parents' home too. It's way out in the suburbs, not too far from where Carrie will be staying. I'll be safe there and, yes, let's keep in touch." 

Francine told them where she would be heading too. "I've arranged to get an apartment in a secure building in another city. Another state, even. I wish you guys would come with me, because I think we have a better chance of making our getaway if we stick together and go some place where we aren't known by anyone. Tyrone has his informants, especially those in the police force." She gave them the address, just in case either of her friends needed a place of refuge. She knew there was some risk in doing telling them because of the possibility of Tyrone catching up with one of them, but she felt protective enough of her friends to take the chance.

Each of the three women had her own car, and they had a three day head start in driving to where they hoped to be safe from their former pimp. They had that because Francine made a point of calling in for the next few days, using her cell phone, telling Tyrone that the bleeding was still going on. He grumpily acknowledged it, but, on the first day their menses could have been expected to have ended, there was no phone call. When he used the keys he had forced them to turn over to him, he found all their clothing and personal items gone from their apartment. The enraged Tyrone swore he would track them all down and make each of them an example of what happened to anyone who dared to cross him. 

Francine had been right in her concerns; he had informants all over, including the registry office of the university, and the woman he knew there told him the addresses of record for all three of the truants. Because Francine's home was in that same city, he decided to go after her first. The plan was that he and three henchmen would go to her home, force her to return with them to his headquarters, and beat and cut her to within an inch of her life. After that, she would be forced to turn tricks in the back room of one of the skid row bars he owned until she was too old for anybody to even want to fuck her. After that, he wouldn't care what happened to her. 

Unfortunately for Tyrone, Francine's mother, a widow, no longer lived in the small rented home that was the domicile of record, and the young family of Hmong immigrants who did live there were obviously not related to his quarry. He considered killing them to cover his tracks, but thought better of it. As long as he kept them paid off, the local cops and other authorities let him operate freely, but even they would have balked at such a gratuitously bloody episode. Instead, he terrified the immigrants into promising to forget his presence there by telling them how he would kill the whole family if any of them ever told even a single person of the day's events. 

Being thwarted in his plan regarding the first of the escaping women infuriated Tyrone, and made him even more determined to catch the other two. He also believed he would be able to beat and torture information out of any of the three missing pigs he did locate, and this made him even more driven to lay his hands on Carrie or Theresa. The day after his failure in finding Francine, he and the same three thugs went to the farm owned by Carrie's parents. 

They had been told all about her life in the city, especially how she supported herself while in college and the predicament that had resulted. They weren't happy about it, but she was their daughter and they would give her a place to hide from those who wanted to do her harm. They also didn't share her naïve confidence that she had made a clear escape from her vengeful pimp, so they struck a deal with Carrie. For the time being, she would stay in the large outbuilding they called the straw house because it was the place where they put the harvested straw to dry. The June weather was warm enough that she would have no problems and if, after a few months, her former pimp hadn't come after her, she could return to the main house if she wanted. 

Carrie didn't like the idea of living in the straw house, but she didn't blame her parents for being cautious. They were looking out for themselves and for her. The idea was, if Tyrone did show up, she would have an opportunity to make a run for it in her car, which was left parked behind her temporary quarters, The escape route would be down the farm lane and onto the county road and, from there, to the main highway. Carrie was to make certain to always keep her cell phone available so she would be able to warn her fellow fugitives if Tyrone and his minions did show up. 

Five days after Carrie arrived home, which was only two days after her menses stopped, the escape plan had to be put into effect. She was in the main house, heard a vehicle turn into the driveway and looked out the window. When she saw the familiar Navigator, she told her parents the bad news and bolted out the back door to the straw house. Most of the things she had brought from the city were still in a suitcase, which she threw into the car before driving away. She took the time only to call a warning to Theresa on her cell phone and to call Francine and tell her she was on her way. 

The farm lane was concealed from the driveway by the straw house, and nobody would have been able to see her leave. Carrie did not feel she was deserting her parents, because they would be safer if she was not there, and would have an infinitely better chance of fooling Tyrone. He and his thugs were after her, and would have no reason to do anything to them if he could be convinced she had not returned to their home after finishing college. Although ruthless, he was not stupid to let himself in for trouble away from his home town and his flunkies on the police force and in the courts. 

One of the vengeful pimp's henchmen that day was one of those police flunkies, off duty but in uniform. They decided tell her parents they were seeking to interview their errant daughter who had been an innocent witness to drug dealing. With that ruse, they gained entrance by showing his badge, and they were reasonably polite, as the police would have been expected to be, to the older couple who owned the property. 

"Sir," the uniformed man addressed Carrie's father. "Your daughter is needed in the city as a witness. We quite strongly believe she saw a criminal selling drugs to children, and this is her last known address. Is she here, or have you seen her? We also believe the criminal knows about her and is looking for her too and, if he finds her before we can protect her, it's curtains." 

"No, officer, we haven't. We know she graduated from college weeks ago but we weren't able to attend. We expected her to be here by now. Is she in trouble?"

"No, Sir, she's in no trouble at all, as long as we can find her before the drug dealer does. Do you mind if we look around?" 

"Not at all, Officer. Even if our daughter was in trouble, we're always glad to help out the police." 

He led them to what would have been Carrie's room, and they looked inside. The bed was neatly made, and the windows were closed, even though it was already a warm day. Tyrone, who thought he was passing himself off as a detective, looked in the closet and found few articles of clothing, and those he did find were old. When he looked, he found no underwear in the dresser drawers where such things would have been expected to be. No textbooks or recently printed books on art were in the room either. The one bathroom in the small house had two toothbrushes in a holder on the sink, and he concluded that his quarry had not taken refuge in the home of her parents. 

Although seething with frustration, Tyrone and his minions stayed in character and thanked the occupants of the house for their assistance. The uniformed member of the group left his business card with the request that they call if they heard anything at all from their daughter. Her parents promised they would, and the ersatz lawmen left, hoping to do better at finding Theresa, but with their confidence waning. 

It dropped to almost zero when they reached the suburban home of Theresa's parents, which was a single story house with an attached garage. There had been no outbuilding for her to camp out in, but that had not been necessary. She got the telephoned warning from Carrie in plenty of time to grab whatever belongings she wanted to take, pack them in her car and drive away from the long, wooden house toward where she knew Francine had a safer location. Her parents had all the time they needed to conceal any trace that their daughter might have been there and, when they were done, her bedroom looked just as unused as Carrie's had. 

The discussion of Tyrone and his gang members with Theresa's parents was also similar to their conversation with those of Carrie, and produced the same results. The investigations of her room and the bathroom she would have been using were equally unproductive. No trace of the daughter of the house could be found and, for all they knew, she hadn't been there since Christmas, which her parents said was the last time they had seen her. They had also not been able to attend the graduation ceremony. 

The frustrated hunters went back to their lair, but Tyrone Wolfe swore that he would not give up, ever. The three little pigs had made a fool of him, and he could not and would not allow that to pass, because of the damage it would do to his street credibility. If it ever became common knowledge, he might even be no longer considered the baddest pimp in town. Even worse, the many other prostitutes who stayed with him only out of fear might be encouraged to sneak away also. The word was sent out that there was a large financial reward and other benefits for any information that would lead to the capture of any of the three pigs who had defied their master. 

Carrie and Theresa both made good their escapes, arriving at almost the same time at the brick building where Francine had an apartment. They had both called about their impending arrival, and she made them as welcome as she was able in the limited confines of the one-bedroom apartment. Their living quarters were actually slightly larger than their previous shared apartment, but still crowded. Carrie and Theresa made themselves at home as well as they could, while the three frightened women decided what to do next. 

Francine was more worried than the others. She was quite sure they were safe in the brick building, barring some really unusual coincidence, but they would not be able to stay there in hiding forever. She believed she had a promising future, and her friends had their lives ahead of them too. Francine was quite unwilling to give up her career and make them give up theirs, after sweating out four years at the university, just to hide from some creepy thug. 

There was another aspect facing her and them. Francine had squirreled away as much of her earnings as she could while in college, and her friends had saved their money too, but not even all three of them could possibly have put away enough to support themselves indefinitely. They would have to go out to look for work sooner or later, and the longer they waited, the harder it would be. The problem they had was thinking of a plan to get Tyrone Wolfe off their backs, and she quickly realized the only way to accomplish that would be to put him out of circulation for a long time. 

Hiring a hit man or doing the job herself was out of the question. He had too many resources, too much protection and too many connections to even think seriously of that. He was a criminal, and a ruthless one, and had probably committed hundreds of crimes she didn't even know about, but he was pretty much immune from prosecution. The cops and probably the courts in his town were in his pocket, and the state wouldn't want to get involved in local matters. 

That would leave the feds, or the FBI to take him down. They probably had a pile of information on him, but they could only bust him for a federal crime, and she didn't know for sure of any he had ever committed. Therefore, she reasoned, he would have to be induced to commit one, preferably away from his home town, so the FBI could do what they probably wanted to do anyhow. The more she thought about it, the more she came to realize what crime that would have to be, and where he would have to be made to commit it and whom the victims would have to be. 

After making up her mind, Francine went to the local office of the FBI where she spoke to a man who introduced himself as Agent Donovan. She wore a pinstriped skirt and matching blazer, with a white blouse, because she wanted to give him the impression that she knew what she was doing, which she did. After listening to her explain the situation, he was more than a bit skeptical. 




Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 14



Snow White stood before the mirror. 'Fuck! Another fucking grey hair. It isn't even time to see Tony & Guy yet for touch-up.' She spat as she plucked the offender from among its dyed black cousins. Getting older is no picnic for a former beauty and queen. Of course, she supposed it could be worse. Thanks to Botox, liposuction and lifts she looked rather good for a woman her age. It pays to know friends like Demi Moore, who will share information on the absolute top plastic surgeons in Beverly Hills. Thanks too to all that money from her nasty divorce from Prince Charming and the others. 

Of course, she had her own income; residuals from her series of porn films, 'Snow White and the Seven Little People.' They were called 'little people' these days. No one used the term dwarf anymore. It simply was not politically correct. She even had an offer recently to update the series. She would need to wear nice lingerie to cover the stretch marks from her three pregnancies and the scars from her tummy tuck. But she was actually considering the idea. 

After all, it was not fair that men only got better as they aged. Look at her ex's. Prince had run off with some twenty something bimbo. The girl was younger than their daughter for Christ's sake. Triton wasn't doing too bad himself. He always had some young mermaid to keep his bed warm. Of course, that crazy old scientist was more caught up in his inventions than women. She must have been really drunk that night. 

Her three beautiful daughters; Aurora, who still had another eighty years or so to sleep thanks to that damned curse of cryogenics, Ariel and Belle, what mother could ask for more beautiful children. They were her pride and joy. Although she had to reluctantly admit she was beginning to understand the envy that had caused her own step mother to toss her out on the street of LA. But she could never imagine trying to entice anyone with heroine laced apples, the way she had been. Thank goodness that her friends in the industry had looked out for her until along came Prince. He had been Los Angeles' top civil litigator and won her quite a settlement from the old hag, including this stupid mirror that seemed to mock her more each passing day. 

Examining the fine lines that ran from the corner of her still sparkling blue eyes, she cursed again. Why was youth wasted on the young? She had so much more knowledge and spirit now than she had when she was her daughters' ages. She loved her girls, but if she had it all to do over again... Looking around at the golden faucets and skylights in her bathroom that overlooked the Pacific Ocean along the Malibu coast, well, she supposed she wouldn't do a damned thing differently.

She had money; enough to buy her all the Botox and surgery she needed. She had friends; those seven little guys were still good for a ride now and again, although these days it was more about sharing the memories. Hell, her fame even got her the occasional young stud when she dared to venture out on a Friday night to Hollyweird. Over all, it was not a bad life, she supposed.

It had been quite some time since she had dared to ask the mirror that fateful question that had led to her own downfall and re-birth so many years before. She tended these days to simply use it as any other mirror; forgetting its magical powers. But sucking in her liposuctioned and tucked tummy even more, she peered deep into its depths. This morning, something made her. She whispered, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?'

She was not prepared for the boisterous laughter that echoed off the walls of her empty mansion. It took a couple of moments for the mirror's mirth to die down enough for it to even speak. 'Oh dearie, do you really want to know? Well, there is Paris, Brittney, Lindsey, and of course, those three young nubile daughters of yours have to be close to the top of the list too.' The mirror returned to its gale of laughter then.

Picking up the heavy silver hair brush that contained more than one grey hair, she flung it at the cursed mirror. She smiled as she heard it break. She was the one that was laughing as millions of tiny shards tinkled to the floor. Someone should have done that long ago, she thought. After all, there really is no 'happily ever after.'



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 15



Once upon a time not too long ago there lived a very beautiful girl. As beautiful as she was she was equally spoiled. Her parents bought her a car for turning sixteen and a laptop for graduating high school. They paid for her to go to college but she mostly screwed around and ended up dropping out a couple of times. Her name was Diana but because she was so spoiled everybody called her Princess.

Like a lot of spoiled people and to be perfectly fair Americans in general during the early years of the twenty first century Princess did not live within her means. She made just over minimum wage but she had a Playstation 3 hooked up in her SUV. Her cell phone was an all in one everything. It could take pictures, find her on GPS, tune her guitar and even make light saber hums as she swung it through the air. On top of that she married a boy not a man and he couldn't hold down a job but spent her money.

She owed a lot of people money, her parents, her ex boyfriend, the bank and one other that was of interest. She owed the local loan shark and that is where our story picks up. You see loan sharks aren't like friends and family who might secretly resent you but would never do anything about it. They aren't quite like banks who send their process servers to challenge you to dance offs in the streets. I actually have it on good authority that doesn't really happen either, you got served was referencing something other than process serving when they made that film. No when your time is up with the local loan shark he sends men to break your knees or sometimes something worse. Some times they just kill you to make an example for the others.

The loan shark that Princess had borrowed money was some times called Barry and other times he was called Bam Bam, it didn't really matter what you called him the important part was to know he wasn't the kind of man you wanted angry. If you were on his good side he was your best friend, pay your bills on time and he'd give you a little sugar on top to make things extra sweet, but if you were naughty he'd want ninety percent of his money back as soon as he discovered you were an idiot and that was the case with Princess. She'd borrowed twelve thousand dollars from him. That money was supposed to go to paying for rent and food and even her cell phone for the rest of year. Barry felt like he'd been generous letting her keep the cell phone on his dime, it wasn't really a requirement to life but it made him feel better to know he'd helped. 

Princess could have spent the money wisely on those things and continued on with her job at the hotel until things turned around. It would have been a meager existence but that was the case for a lot of people near the turn of the first decade of the twenty first century. Instead of saving that money though she spent it. She spent it on Pokemon and trips to Las Vegas and a honey moon in Cancun! This made Barry very angry and that's why Princess was standing nude in an abandoned warehouse awaiting her fate.

"You know I'm a smart man Princess. I know when someone is going to be able to pay and comply with my wishes. I can look at you and know you can't so I'll only ask would rather learn to fly or swim with the fishes?" Barry asked Princess. He was pacing back and forth as he spoke only occasionally looking at her.

"Why don't we wait. I have friends and family surely one of them will pay you the money I owe. Can I call them to see?" Princess asked.

"Of course not you spoiled snot. I already called everybody who might care or have a soft spot. Your husband, your father and your ex boyfriend have all been given ransom notes for your return. It's about half what you owe but nobody is coming to help you know." Barry said. "You should be happy though. I don't know why but I'll still let you choose if you swim or if you fly." 

Princess knew he wasn't joking at all. He wasn't smiling as he often did, no the look on his face was completely serious. There was already a shallow steel tub and a bag of concrete resting in the room where she could see it. She wouldn't need quite so much equipment if she choose to fly the friendly skies but it seemed that Barry was had a feeling of whimsy for he packed her a golden parachute for the fall. It was slashed and tattered, her fall it wouldn't stall, but she it was going to bring a smile to his face and that counted for a something.

"Tick tock Princess. I have other people with money they owe and some of them might have people who are willing to pay. I can choose for you if you're going to take all day." Barry shook his head and started mixing the cement in the small tub.

"No please don't, just wait a while and I'm sure someone will come to pay the ransom." Princess shouted her eyes growing wide.

"I get bored easily, if you can help me pass the time I might wait just a while." Barry said giving Princess just the opening she needed to live.

"If I give you a hand job do will you wait for someone to come and pay?" Barry answered her the way that any straight man would. He dropped the concrete mix, there was something else hardening in the room. He dropped his pants next so she could see what that something else was.

Princess gasped, she was no stranger to boy parts but this thing was big and by comparison her husband just had a twig! She tried to wrap her hand around it but it was a bit too wide and her fingers didn't quite meet on the opposite side. Princess had to use both hands to hold onto Barry's big cock so that's what she did. She used both hands to hold on tight and stroke his cock. She knew she was doing it right because Barry was moaning and his hips were churning! Princess got down on her knees staring up at his man meat and watching it start pulsing. Princess had watched her fair share of porn so the words Barry was saying weren't much of a shock but most girls would have felt their ears burn. The things he said were nasty, demeaning, crude and rude but Princess just kept smiling because at least someone was coming to save her. It took a few minutes but she got him to come, a huge load of warm sauce that nearly covered her face. It dripped from her chin down onto her breasts and some fell from there to the floor below.

No sooner had she finished than her husband walked in. "I told you he'd be here. My husband loves me and cherishes me more than some meager bucks." Princess smiled and beamed until she saw the look on his face. It was a like a smile or a grin only it was without mirth. Instead of joy it was something akin to malice. Princess felt her heart stop and her blood turn to ice.

"I didn't come to save you. I couldn't if I wished it, the money you wasted on purses and shoes until it was all gone was mine. I just came to tell you I'll miss you but your sister is mighty fine." Her husband said. 

"I told that nobody would come for you my dear sweet Princess. It's time once again about your fate to think, would rather fly or sink?" Barry of course had mind made up, something about cement shoes was just what he wanted to do.

"Please Barry give me time for my father to arrive, I'm sure he wants me alive. I'm his baby, his little girl and to lose me would put his world in a twirl!" Barry paused slightly, he was growing impatient. 

"I'm not being patient for you but instead for him. It wouldn't be right if I didn't give him one last chance to have some fun. So I'll let your husband have his turn to cum." Barry said.

Her husband was shocked, confused and perplexed but none of that stopped him from wanting some oral sex. His trousers dropped and his boxers followed. "Suck it girl and swallow my cum!" Princess nearly fainted as she found herself spared once more, her one hand wrapped around her husband's prick and her mouth quickly followed. She'd only been married for about six months but she'd gotten plenty of practice (not all, or even most with him) Princess swallowed him whole with little difficulty. He moaned and he groaned, his legs threatened to give way. She slurped, and she sucked getting her spit all over the place. It ran down his cock soaking his balls, streamed down his thighs. Princess waggled her tongue against his flesh, tasting her husband for what might be the very last time. Her husband was close, so close she could feel it. She could feel the tip expanding as it rested in her throat, his balls were contracting at the same time. If Princess had any real control over herself she would have slowed down and made it last, not because she wanted his pleasure to last but because if nobody had shown up by the time he came it would be over for her! Not that she knew but luck was on her side, just as her hubby flooded her gullet cream of some young guy soup her father walked in the room.

Princess had always been spoiled and a bit of a whore. This wasn't the first time Daddy had caught his princess with goo on her face or a cock in her throat. Most men would have been shocked and appalled but this was nothing out of the average for her. So he stood their silent letting her finish, she really did enjoy what she was doing. He watched with a morbid interest as his baby girl made certain to squeeze every last drop of her hubby's cum onto her tongue where she could swallow it down obediently.

When she was certain she'd gotten every drop she turned and looked over at her father then to Barry. "Told you he'd come if you just waited some time. He'll pay the ransom and you won't have to commit another crime!"

It was the second time that day she'd seen that look and this time is she knew that something was wrong and much worse than she could have inferred and when her father spoke her fears were confirmed! "This isn't the first time you asked for cash or even the second of the third. Your mother and I believe you'll keep coming for our money until you have it all and it's finally time that you took the fall." He lowered his head. 

This was bad, about as bad as it could get! She knew how the game was played and she already had two strikes! Would her ex even show up? Of course Princess had her doubts but Barry was about to ask how she would like to be taken out! To die peacefully either in her sleep or surrounded by loved ones would be her wishes but Barry only gave he two choices. One involved birds and the other fishes. 

Princess was as clever as she was beautiful though, besides she'd had a daddy fantasy since she was a little girl. "Barry. I know what you're going to say but just give me a minute. I've jerked you off and sucked off my husband but my poor father came all this way for nothing. If I could have just a second with him, I've wanted my Dad as long as I can remember.

Barry paused as he thought about her offer. He wasn't sure if she was lying or not but it really didn't matter. It wasn't every day that you got to see a girl ride her daddy. He was sick, being a criminal has that effect and the thought of a man porking his own daughter got him a little hard. "Go ahead and fuck your dad. This is the last chance you have if your ex doesn't show by the time you finish you'll get an up close view of a lot of fish."

There was a smile on her face as she walked to her father and pulled off his clothes, shirt, shoes, pants and socks. What better way to get at his cock? Once he was nude she pushed him flat on his back and mounted him like a pony. One hand to steady herself on his firm chest, the other cradled her breasts as he bucked beneath her. There was no complaint from her father at this random circumstance. The truth was he'd wanted her for years as well. She looked like her mother had in her youth and probably more importantly she felt like her mother had in her youth. Princess was tight and wet and had the kind of energy that only a younger woman can provide. Unlike her mother her breasts had no sag and bounced beautifully as she rode him. If he had a regret it was that it didn't last as long as he would have preferred. He'd dreamt of her perfect tits for so long that it only took a few minutes for daddy's little cowgirl to get him to blow his wad.

"Wow I knew you were a skank a slut and a ho but holy shit Princess you're fucking your Dad!" Nobody, not even Barry's body guards had noticed her ex enter the room. It was little surprise which they would rather watch between a door or Princess and her father! 

Princess looked up from her father, even though he'd just blown his load deep in her twat she was still without her own satisfaction. There was of course the important issue of keeping herself alive here but just like most people once that burning started in her loins common sense didn't play much of a role. She kept riding her father like a stallion or bull doing everything she could to quench her thirst. "Daddy spank me, pull my hair!" The number of men able to refuse her requests when she was in heat are few indeed and her father was not amongst their number so he obeyed in an instant. One hand went into her reddish brown hair tugging sharply while the other slapped her ass hard it left a bright red handprint. When she screamed harder he bucked his hips against hers and kept pulling her hair until finally Princess came and collapsed against his chest.

Then her ex walked in. "This is the woman who broke your heart and married another, surely you are like her husband and her father only here to bid her farewell?" Barry said feeling his chest swell. This was it, the final would be savior before he could feed his fish. 

That was when something happened that he didn't expect. "She is the one who left me for another but she didn't break my heart. Her happiness is my happiness and walking the aisle dressed in white brought her great bliss. I have no right to be angry with her for that but a world without her would be complete amiss. Here is your money, your cash and your loot now let her free." Her ex pulled out a stack of bills from his pocket and handed them to Barry who quickly counted to make sure that all of it was there. Once he was satisfied that his money was all there he walked over to her ex shook his hand and walked away. It had been a good day for Barry, a live sex show and a few thousand dollars he had no complaints.

Princess was just as happy, she'd gotten her father a life long dream, a reason to divorce her husband and the love of her ex whom she still secretly loved. She went home with her ex and gave him everything he dreamt of and more. Together her and her ex ex and eventual new husband lived happily ever after.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 16



Dorothy knew if she were ever to get Auntie Ems Farm Kansas back, she would have to see the Wizard Obama. Her friend Mattie Lyon said,

"Dorothy, Oz Land is in Washington DC and I know the wizard lives in a big white house behind a big fence, you'll never get in to see him."

"That's OK, if I can get him to play me a little B-ball one on one I'll wipe the court with him and he'll be so embarrassed he give us what you want."

"Look Timmy I know you got ten inches but that doesn't make you a good ball player"

"Ya think I'd listen to someone name John Crow, with hair so yellow it looks like straw growing out of your head."

Finally Dorothy got tired of listening to them bicker and told them all to shut up and one thing no matter what, they all knew they should listen to what she said. Every one knew that 'the one who had the pussy made the rules' and Dorothy sure had the pussy, you could even see it reflected in her shinny red shoes if you stood at just the right angle.

"OK then lets list what we want from the wizard then our assets and next our liabilities to see what we can come up with to get in to see the wizard. We know I want to save Auntie's Kansas farm and see I have the pussy, now what about my liabilities..."

"Dorothy put your damn dress down, we know you got the pussy but if you keep flashing it all over town you're going to wear it out. By the way who ever heard of a chic naming her hooch Toto"

"Oh yeah Johnny Crow, let's see who wears out first, my pussy or that ass of yours that you been peddling all over Oz and I bet if that can of yours looked as good as my precious you'd name it too. OK so my main liability is I give it away too much, but jeez guys if you got the power you use it. OK John you be next" 

"I'm not only gay I'm happy I'm gay but if I can't get the wizard to let me marry my brainy boyfriend I'm destined to be stupid all my life. How about you Tim, what ya got?"

"I'm a beautiful black man with a ten inch dick but I'm afraid my heart is going to break so I have to get the Wizard Obama to start a national program of health care for all who need it. As far as liabilities I don't think I have any."

"Oh please, no liabilities, you look more like Flavor Flav than Denzel Washington. If that ain't a liability, I don't know what it is. All right Mattie you're up"

"This is so embarrassing I'm afraid to go into it, you see my number one asset is my gorgeous long brown curls. Now every morning as I comb my long locks my brush ends up full of my hair. I'm hoping I can get the wizard to stop my pattern baldness." 

They came upon a man preaching social responsibility on the street and as no one was paying attention to him, he took the time to tell them how to get to the big white house.

"It takes a road paved with gold to get to the white house, and I tell you people that what's wrong with our country today the wheels need grease..."

They soon bored of listening to him spout about physical responsibility and went on before he finished talking. They figured if the road is paved with gold they merely need look for a yellow brick road and they were home free. When they asked another man for directions to the yellow brick road to the white house, he suggested they take Pennsylvania Avenue and sure enough before lone they were at the gate. Alas, the guard at the gate said no entry without an invitation and the little group began to believe that even though they were close, they would fail. This man walked up to them and inquired as to why the long faces. He felt so bad for them that he offered his two invitations so at least two could see the wizard. They thanked him and then Tim and Dorothy presented their invitations to the guard.

"Let's see here, Mr. and Mrs. Tareq Salahi, well this all looks in order, go right on in."

Once inside they saw a screen with the wizard on it and beside the screen a telephone and a note saying 'ask the wizard a question'

"Hello, my name is Dorothy and I need you to save my Auntie Em's Kansas farm."

The screen said, 

"You must go to the Republican of the east and convince him to free up farm subsidies and then I will save her farm."

They all rushed to the Republican of the east's lair and once there found him to be a scary rapscallion of a person. After he threatened to burn every farm named Kansas, Dorothy knew she had to act. As Dorothy showed off her little puss named Toto Mattie Lyon grabbed his slush fund and put into the general fund. Without his slush fund, the mean republican was powerless and melted into a mere mortal. Without the Republican, the farm bill passed with ease and triumphant they returned to the white house of the wizard.

Once inside their hopes were soon dashed anew as the screen of the wizard told them he could not help. When Dorothy yelled that he had promised, the wizard began screaming that no one could tell him what to do. Tim noticed an opening in the curtain behind the screen and when he peeked inside he saw it was not the Wizard Obama speaking but Michelle Obama operating the controls of a voice box. Once she got a taste of Tim's licorice stick she soon calmed down and even offered to help.

"Mattie, you're worried about going bald, get a grip man don't you see all the men are shaving their heads now, soon every man will be bald. As for you my black stallion, you don't need health care you need to watch your diet. Cut back on salt and quit eating so much soul food and your heart will be fine. John you don't have to be married to your smart boyfriend to use his brains but if you feel, you have to, then move to Massachusetts they have gay marriage there.

As for you Dorothy, I'm afraid the farm bill was passed too late to save your Auntie's farm but for you I'll tell you a secret. When you get back to the barn just stamp your shoes three times and the answer will be yours.

 Back Home in Kansas:

Dorothy woke up in her bed back home; she had no recollection of going to bed or even coming home for that matter. When Auntie Em came in Dorothy began to cry,

"Oh Auntie I tried to save the farm, I even showed Toto all over Oz Land in Washington DC. Lots of people looked and some even sampled but no one helped."

"Why Dorothy whatever are you talking about, you did save the farm. Don't you remember, when you went to the barn and stamped your feet you fell through the floor into the basement. When we went down to get you we saw you were unconscious. while we were down there we found Grandpa's still and now we've taken so many orders for Kansas Moonshine we've paid the back taxes and brought the mortgage up currant."

Therefore, you see the wizard's wife proved to be wise, she saved Auntie's Kansas Farm, and she was right when she said, 'there's no place like home'.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 17



Chapter 17: Tom Thumb

Once upon a time in a forest owned by King Author the mighty magician Merlin was roaming disguised as a beggar. He tarried to hear a woman cry about being barren,

"Alas why have I no child, I'd gladly be happy with one no bigger than my thumb." 

This thought intrigued Merlin who many considered more scamp than magician and he came up with a scheme. He placed a spell inside an acorn and hid it under the woman's hearth. This left the future of the woman up to chance, something that pleased Merlin. If she held the acorn as she wished for a child she would be blessed with one the size of her thumb. The fates decided and the woman never saw the acorn or had the offspring she so wished for.

This acorn, as acorns will, worked itself into the ground and soon sprouted into a mighty oak tree. The fates spared this very oak from the woodsman axe and from the fires and lighting strikes that nature deals out to the forest. This mighty oak grew and amazingly survived until the dawn of the twenty-first century when it was then chopped down to make room for a strip mall. Its wood was cut and honed into choice lumber then sent to a furniture factory where some of it was made into a dining room table. This very table was purchased by a family containing six rambunctious boys who soon ruined it with their rowdy dining habits. They donated it to charity and that is how it landed at the home of a poor childless couple.

This couple unable to have children and with no money for fertility treatments or even a surrogate were destined to remain childless. Mrs. Thamb, for that was her name sat at the only table in their humble abode. She was crying and gnashing her teeth as she squeezed her table trying to control herself. She cried to her husband, 

"Oh Horace I so wanted a child, just one child is that too much to ask. I wouldn't care if he was no bigger than my thumb, I just want a child."

That acorn grown into a tree centuries ago, then chopped down and made into a table, yet it still possessed Merlin's spell. Mrs. Thamb slept face down on that magical table as her tears sank into the dry old wood.

In the morning, she awoke stiff and sore but when she looked up there was the tiniest little baby lying beside her hand. The baby looked at her and smiled then spoke his first words, which of course, were mama. She named her baby Tom and from that day on, she was as happy as a mother could be. As Tom grew older, he turned into quite the little imp who loved games and playing tricks on his beloved mother. His favorite game was 'Hide and Seek'; because of his size, he was very good at hiding so he was still playing even into his early twenties.

Mrs. Thamb took in laundry from the rich ladies across town to help pay for the family's expenses. One day she finished taking Mrs. Snootful's laundry out of the drier and putting it in her basket as she always did. She often kept Tom in her housedress pocket while she worked but when she bent to put the clothes in the basket Tom fell out of her pocket and into the fresh warm laundry. Tom landed right in the middle of a pair of Mrs. Snootful's panties. They were very soft and satiny and of a very pretty pink, Tom felt so comfortable he curled up inside them and fell asleep in the gusset.

As for Mrs. Snootful, well she had waited so long for her laundry that she had run out of clean panties. The first thing she did after picking up her clean laundry was grab a pair off the top of the basket and slip them on under her dress. She paid her washerwoman and dashed to her car in a hurry as always. 

Tom woke up just as he was being tucked into a warm damp crevasse with silky fur around the edges. He thought this cave might be a fun place to explore even though it had a strange scent about it. Once inside the cave he found it dark and soft to the touch. He discovered that as he ran his hands along the soft walls it got even wetter, he thought there must be a spring and went to find the liquid's source. As he became accustom to the aroma, he began to enjoy it and in fact, the more is nose took in the more his little pecker grew. As a lad kept at home and mostly, in his mother's pocket, he knew nothing of life or sex or what made an erection. He did realize it had to be this elixir that made his pecker grow and from there it was an easy extrapolation for him to think that if he drank from the well he might grow all over. He took off his clothes and bathed in this special essence, next he licked the walls of this cave taking all of these juices he could.

Suddenly the cave began to gyrate and he feared that it must be an earthquake. He knew he must get out of the cave fast or run the risk of being trapped forever inside. Once outside he crawled along the crevice until he got to the top where he saw a large nub. He lunged for it and held on of all he was worth as he was tossed around and about yet still, he held on. He heard a loud scream from somewhere above him and then a low moan, and then the quake was gone. As his surroundings quit shaking, he noticed his pecker shooting out an opaque cream but he had no idea what it was. 

Mrs. Snootful had just experienced the most moving orgasm of her life with no idea why. She had cum so hard she almost wrecked her car but somehow managed to make it home safely. Inside her bedroom, she removed her panties and out popped Tom Thamb. She realized at once, what had just given her the sexual thrill of her life. Tom explained who he was and how he first got into her laundry basket and then into her womb. Mrs. Snootful didn't care about any of that she only knew she wanted to keep this little pussy tickler close by.

She allowed tom another climb into her cave, just to make sure he was able to make her feel as she had in the car and he made her climax just as much. She next called his mother's cell to alleviate her fears about her son and to offer her a full-time job with living quarters in her household. 

The Thamb family though not living in the lap of luxury was at least living on the edges of it. Tom's new favorite sport was now cave exploring and thanks to Mrs. Snootful and a few of her close friends Tom had as much cave time as he wanted. Merlin would have been happy to know that every one lived happily ever after.



Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 18



Once upon a time, a long, long time ago there was a video store owner who was very poor. The invention of Netflix had taken a huge chunk of his business and people just weren't coming in to rent movies or video games any longer. He did however have a very beautiful daughter who was also an amateur model and thus very well known in the community. 

One day it came to pass that the store owner had to go and talk to his banker and in order to make himself seem more important he said to his banker, "My daughter can turn coal into silks."

The Banker's eyes were momentarily replaced with dollar signs and a smile spread from ear to ear. "That is a quite a trick. If you're daughter is truly able to perform these miracles bring her to my mansion tomorrow evening and I will put her to the test. Then we'll work something out, you and I."

The store owner didn't tell his daughter what he'd promised she could do, but he did tell her to wear something nice for when she met the Banker. She absolutely trusted her father and it never crossed her mind that he might had made some kind of fantastic promise. The most he'd ever asked of her before was for her to lifeguard one of his friend's parties.

When the man arrived at the Banker's house he and his daughter were greeted with a fantastic dinner. Neither of them had ever seen so much quality food at one time before. Lobster, steak, caviar and fine wines all of it brought to them by servants. The poor owner pretended not to notice the ladies, all dressed like fetishized French Maids even when they were nearly spilling out of their dresses to pour him more wine. His daughter couldn't stop blushing whenever one of the men in their Speedos and bowties took away her plate and replaced it with the next dish. The Banker of course was completely unphased by feast of flesh all around him.

When the meal was finished he had his servants escort them all down to the basement which was filled to the brim with newspaper. The daughter was very confused when she was lead into the room and even more when she looked back and saw her father and the Banker had not entered after her. She recognized the look on her father's face though, it was the same look he got when he sent her younger brother to join the Army. He didn't come back.

The Banker though had a different expression, a tight dark grin. "Your father has told me you can perform an incredible trick and turn newspaper into silk. Normally I would recycle this, it makes me look good in the community and brings in some spare change but I can sell silk or dress up my girls. You will set to work and if by tomorrow morning at first sun's light you have not turned this all into silk I will keep you here as one of my girls.

Without saying another word he locked her up in the room. The poor woman looked around the room and started to panic. The idea of being one of the Banker's little fetish girls terrified her and she knew that was going to happen. Turning newspaper into silk was as stupid as trying to spin hay into gold! Absolutely impossible. 

After sitting for what felt like hours the woman actually picked up the papers and flying into a frustrated rage threw them against the walls. She toppled the towers and tore apart the pages. She screamed and when she'd finally exhausted herself she collapsed into a heap in the corner and started to weep.

While she was still curled in the corner wondering how her father could have damned her to this fate the door flew open and in came a small twisted man. If he'd been able to stand up straight he still wouldn't quite have passed the young woman's shoulder but bent as he was he stare at her naval. If she were upright, curled in the corner he was just about at eye level. "Good evening young mistress, why are you crying so?"

The girl looked up at him through her tear soaked eyes and replied. "I have to turn newspapers into silk. Which is fucking impossible and if I fail the Banker is going make me a servant!"

"That is so cruel. How did this fate come to befall a woman as comely as you?" The twisted man asked. The woman told him the story at once. "That is most unfortunate. Of course I know how to turn newspaper into silk, or straw into gold. If I do this for you what will you do for me?"

"Anything." The girl immediately replied without even a second thought.

"Anything?" The gnarled man replied.

"Don't be stupid. You're asking if I'll have sex with you. I'll give you a blow job, is that enough?"

"I'll tell you after you give me a blow job." The warped man replied.

"Is that all you want? Show me you can turn newspaper into silk and I'll blow your mind." The young woman replied.

"Of course. I wouldn't want you to do something without proof of course." The twisted little man walked over to a bundle of newspaper and started twisting it around. When he was finished twisting it he unfurled it as silk. "Is this to your satisfaction?"

The young woman walked over and snatched the silk from the small man and ran it against her skin. It was impossible but it was real silk. "If I give you a blow job you'll turn the rest into silk?"

"Of course." The small man replied.

"Well that's better than being one of the Banker's whores." The young woman replied.

The young woman crawled over to the twisted man and unfastened his pants. The cock hidden beneath his trousers was every bit as twisted as the rest of him. The similiarity ended ther however, his cock was monstrous almost a third leg. The young woman's jaw dropped when she saw it.

"You're not changing your mind are you?" The twisted little man asked.

The young woman swallowed hard and shook her head. She would only have to do this once and then she'd be free of him, if she didn't she'd belong to the Banker forever. She opened her mouth and wrapped it around the tip of his cock and started running her tongue all around the head of his cock. Her fingers couldn't quite close around the massive girth of his cock working her hands up and down the length of the gnarled cock.

The man reached down and ran his fingers through the young woman's hair eventually wrapping it around his fist and so he could guide her up and down his cock. Each time he forced her to take him just a little farther until finally her nose was pressed up against his belly.  His scrotum was bouncing off her chin when he finally unloaded his spunk into her mouth. 

"Swallow it." The man said. 

The young woman looked up at him in disgust but gulped down then opened her mouth so he could see she had obeyed him.

"Good!"

Satisfied the man took a seat in the middle of the room and twist, twist, twist and a bundle of newspaper was turned to silk. Twist, twist, twist he kept at it for hours until the sky started to brighten. Then he left.

The Banker walked into the room holding a French Maid costume for the young woman. "I think this will fi-" The words were stuck in his mouth when he saw that impossibly she had accomplished her task. There wasn't a single bundle of newspaper left in the room. Instead there were piles of the finest silk. 

The Banker didn't know how she had accomplished this and the truth is he didn't really care. He walked into the room inspecting the silk and after having examined it all he declared that it wasn't enough to pay her father's debt. He had the young woman taken to another room filled with news paper, this one nearly twice as large and he told her to turn this into silk as well.

The young woman didn't know how she'd gotten herself into this mess and her thoughts turned dark and toward her father. How could he have done this to her? It didn't really matter, she was trapped and still didn't know how to turn newspaper into silk and soon she was crying in the corner of the room. The door opened and the little man walked in. "What will you do if I turn this newspaper into silk for you?"

"Anything." She answered again.

"Anything?" He queried obviously enjoying himself.

"You're asking for another blow job? Of course it's a small price to pay." She replied getting to her knees.

"No, I want more than just a blow job if I am to turn all this into silk." He said making a grand gesture to the mountains of paper surrounding them both.

"What do you want then?"

"To fuck you, you're very pretty." The man said leering hungrily at her.

The young woman thought about it for a moment and then she consented. One night with this little man was a far better choice than a life time as the Banker's little slut. So she pushed him down to the ground and mounted him riding him and his twisted cock. He thicker than her boyfriend, and the kinks in his cock felt amazing grinding against her clit. Despite herself she came repeatedly on his fat cock and wasn't faking it at all when she begged him to fuck her harder. The little man put her through her paces, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, pile driver and spoon and he finished in her mouth making her swallow again.

Then the man went to work. Twist, twist, twist the newspaper into silk and by morning he had once again performed the impossible task. When the Banker came in he again inspected the silk and was very pleased. He told her that it still wasn't enough and had her brought to a warehouse filled with news paper and told her if she could complete this room he would marry her and not only wipe her father's debt but take care of her entire family and if she failed she would become his servant.

As soon as the girl was alone the twisted little man came for the third time, and said, "What will you do for me if I turn this all into silk?"

"I have already made myself available to your cock, I have nothing else I can give." She replied.

"That's not true, you still have one place my cock has yet to plunder." He said and the young woman immediately winced at the thought. "I will make you a deal, I will turn this all to silk for you if you promise me that should you become rich and famous you will film a sex tape with and then I will claim your ass."

Rich and famous? Me? The young woman had no problem making such an outrageous promise. It was more likely that she would set foot upon the moon than ever have to pay this debt and she shad no other way out of this predicament so she promised the man what he wanted and for that he twist, twist, twisted the newspaper into silk.

When the banker arrived he was beside himself with joy. He happily married the young woman and lived up to his promise not only to wipe her father's debt clean but to take care of her entire family. He bought them a nice house and set them up with expense accounts.

After a year the most curious thing happened. The young woman made a YouTube video that went viral. She'd completely forgotten about her promise to the little man until he appeared in her bed room. "Well, well, well look at you rich and famous. It's time for your close up."

The woman was horror-struck and offered him everything she could imagine. Money, gold, a home, sex but please no cameras. It would ruin her to be seen like that. 

"No, no this is what you promised me a taste of that ass on camera so I could prove to the world that I did it." 

Upon hearing that the woman started to cry and slowly the twisted little man started to feel bad for her. "I will give you three days if by the third day you can guess my name I won't make the video."

So the young woman thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a searched the internet for baby names in every country of the world. When the little man arrived began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one after another, but to every one the little man said, "That is not my name."

The next day she had returned to the internet but instead of using the names of people she started trying even rarer names from Elfish, Klingon and even Saiyan. She repeated as many as she could fit on her Kindle. "Perhaps your name is Worf, Elrond or Kakarrot?" 

To each inquiry he answered, "That is not my name."

On the third day the young woman was resigned to her fate and decided to watch one a few celebrity sex tapes to prepare herself. On the screen she saw a young Halle Berry being savagely fucked by her twisted little man. Her ass was stretched around his cock and her face twisted into a mask of pleasure and pain. Then something she did not expect happened. "Say my name!"  

"Rumpelstiltskin! Rumpelstiltskin! Rumpelstiltskin!" Halle Berry screamed over and over again while the twisted little man continued to savagely assault her ass.

"Its easy to see why the young woman was so overjoyed when she heard the name. When the twisted little man arrived she was smiling. "Now is your last chance to guess my name before you become my co-star!"

At first she said, "Is your name Kal-el?" 

"No." 

"Is your name Naruto?" 

"No." 

"Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?" 

"Who told you that!" The little man exclaimed and the princess could only smile. The little man raged for several minutes before collapsing in a heap. "It's really not fair. I lived up to my end of the bargain." Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed. "If not for me you'd be a servant not rich and famous."

The young woman thought on it for a while. He did have a point and she debt she owed him was not insignificant. Worse though she was married and her family well taken care of she could not claim to be happy. Her father had essentially sold her into slavery and only this twisted little man and his magic had saved her. Her husband had had never treated her poorly but she did not love him.

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement. If you can me out of this without hurting my family I'll film your little video."

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his chin for a moment.

One week later the Banker approached the young lady and requested a divorce. She would get to keep half of everything, no questions asked. She never learned what Rumpelstiltskin had done and she didn't ask. She did live up to her end of the bargain, her sex tape landed her a career as a porn star where she lived happily ever after.