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Rapunzel

By: oggbashan



With apologies to the Brothers Grimm

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Copyright Oggbashan May 2004

Minor edit November 2014

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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The prince Johann was lost. He had been chasing a wolf at the edge of a wood. Wolves were a continual threat to the herders of his father's kingdom. His horse shied at a rabbit and threw him.

Johann was stunned by the fall. When he came to his horse was gone. He didn't know where he was except that he was close to the border of the kingdom. It was dusk and there were no trails nearby. He looked around. A faint light glimmered from deep in the wood. Perhaps he could get help or directions.

Inside the wood the darkness was oppressive. Johann thought of all the dark legends of woodland creatures. He grasped his spear and loosened his sword in its scabbard. Any creature daring to approach him would suffer. The legends were for peasants. As an educated prince he knew better but even so he couldn't help remembering some of the stories his nursemaid had told him at bedtime. Pan was sometimes a woodland creature. A sword would be useless against Pan. A wood-nymph would be welcome. He would treat a nymph with discretion and courtesy. A night with a wood-nymph was supposed to be unforgettable. Wood-nymphs were benign compared with some other woodland dwellers, real or mythical.

The light was still there but high above the forest floor. Faintly Johann heard a woman singing beautifully into the darkness. Johann sensed the edge of a clearing. As his eyes adjusted he was aware of movement. He crouched behind a bush to observe carefully. The song wrapped itself around him like a lover's arms.

An aged crone was shuffling towards the base of a tower. The light came from high on the tower. There was no door visible.

As the crone reached the tower she called out:

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

Johann watched in amazement as a long tight plait of blonde hair was thrown from the high window. The crone seized hold of the hair and climbed up the tower.

He crept close to the tower. He looked all around it. There was no opening below the level of the window. On the opposite side, there was a balcony that would face the setting sun.

He heard the voice of Rapunzel and the crone arguing. Even angry Rapunzel's voice was seductive. He must see the owner of such wonderful hair and hear her voice clearly. Why? He didn't know.

Eventually the crone left, climbing down the plaited hair. Johann retreated to the edge of the clearing and settled down to wait for morning. He was woken by the sunrise.

He looked carefully at the tower. It had no possible opening below the window's level. The singing had started again. He couldn't make out the words but the tone conveyed longing and resignation. The song made him wish to relieve the hurt he could hear in the voice. He had to see Rapunzel. He stood beneath the window and called out:

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

The song stopped immediately. Nothing else happened. He called out again.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

"Who is there?"

The voice was trembling yet seductive.

"I am called Johann, Prince Johann." He answered.

"I know no Prince Johann," Rapunzel answered.

"Are you a prisoner? Can I help you?" Johann shouted back.

"Yes. I am a prisoner. Can you help me? I don't know. Do you want to risk your life for a woman you don't know?"

"Yes. I would risk my life for a woman I don't know. That is what Princes are supposed to do."

"Then Princes must be very stupid men and have a short life expectancy. You haven't even seen me. I could be ugly."

"You have a beautiful voice and wonderful hair. I don't think you could be ugly. Let me see. I'll try to rescue you, whatever you look like."

Johann thought Rapunzel said "I was right. He is stupid." quietly before she shouted:

"I will let down my hair, Prince Johann. Remember that you asked me to. I did not coerce you or charm you. You can refuse to climb but if you do come it is your free choice. Here it comes."

Rapunzel's plait of hair tumbled from the window and reached to the ground. As Johann reached for it he noticed that it was tightly tied with a strong leather lace every six inches. Perhaps that reinforced it to allow climbing? 

As his fingers touched Rapunzel's hair Johann was fascinated by its texture. He had expected strong coarse hair. This hair was soft, silky and fine. It was the female hair of a man's dreams. His hand caressed it before he took a firm grip and began to climb. 

As he entered the window Rapunzel had her back turned to him. Her hair was hitched around a strong hook above the window and between the window and her head it was unplaited in a shimmering wave and unstressed. Johann pulled the plait up the wall and through the window, unwinding it from the hook.

"Rapunzel?" he said softly.

"Yes, Prince Johann? I warned you, didn't I?"

Rapunzel turned around. She was beautiful but her look conveyed intense sadness. Her face was that of a woman in her twenties yet Johann had the impression of ages of sorrow and suffering.

"Who are you, Rapunzel?"

"That at least is different," Rapunzel said. "The others asked why I was a prisoner. My answer to them was that I am a prisoner by my own choice. To you I say 'I am Euryale's daughter'."

"I'm sorry, Rapunzel. I have never heard of Euryale. Should I have?"

"It doesn't matter, Johann. Let me check. I have told that I am a prisoner by my own choice, that I am Euryale's daughter and that you are risking your life. I have said all that, haven't I?"

"Yes, Rapunzel, you said all that."

"Good. Now I can enjoy myself. You realise that I haven't had a man up here for years?"

"I'm not surprised. Even with your hair that was a difficult climb."

"So I want a man -- you. You don't object?"

Prince Johann was in no state to object. Rapunzel was wearing a low cut dress. Through the strands of her blonde hair he could see a pair of breasts straining to be free from their confinement.

"No," he said absently, "I don't object."

"Better. Then we strip. You strip me. I strip you."

Rapunzel turned her back to Johann. Her dress was laced at the back. He untied and loosened it. The dress fell to the floor.

Rapunzel turned. Her hands removed his sword and belt and laid it aside. Johann stood still while she removed the rest of his clothes. Rapunzel gathered up her plaited hair into a large bundle and thrust it at him.

"Carry this and follow me," she ordered.

Johann could barely restrain his erection as the masses of hair stroked his naked body. He followed Rapunzel through an archway to her bedchamber. She climbed onto the massive four poster bed. He joined her. She pulled on a cord at the head of the bed. The curtains shut them in together. Her hands reached for his head and pulled his lips to hers. Her insistent tongue entered his mouth, fought his tongue and conquered. Her plaited hair wound around them like a soft rope.

Johann didn't notice as Rapunzel guided her hair to entangle him. When she rolled him to his back and straddled him his arms and legs were softly restrained. Even if he had wanted to, he could not have stopped her as she rose above him before impaling herself on his erection. He gasped as he realised what she had done but the passion of her movements and his instinctive response stopped any protest.

Her lips slid over his chest. Her breasts pressed against him. His face was covered in her wonderful hair. It felt like finest silk yet had a life that silk never has. As she moved her hair on his skin aroused him to a height he had never reached. It couldn't last and soon, too soon, he came into her body and subsided into a passive acceptance of her movements.

She continued to surround and squeeze him and her coils of plaited hair wrapped tighter but still gently caressing. His erection revived. This time he could hold back, wait, match her rhythm and give her back the orgasm she had given him. He did. She moaned a soft sultry 'Yes' as the pleasure enveloped her.

They lay on the bed with Johann still wrapped in Rapunzel's arms and plaited hair. Her head rested on his shoulder.

"Would you like my hair to be set free?" she murmured.

"Yes," he answered, not realising what the implications were.

"Then cut the ties," she ordered, passing him a small pair of scissors.

Johann started where the plait ended furthest to her head. He worked carefully, snipping each leather lace without cutting a single hair. As he progressed Rapunzel unplaited and brushed the newly released hair. It spread over Johann like a warm Pacific tide covering hot sand. It slithered over his skin bringing an enhanced sensation to every part of his body. As he cut the last binding Rapunzel shouted:

"Yes! I'm free!" and then her lips crushed against Johann's. He dropped the scissors. They fell between the curtain and the bed to the floor. 

Rapunzel's hair seemed to have come to life. Its silken strands wrapped around the whole of Johann. Rapunzel herself pulled back from his body as if surrender him to her hair. Johann was enjoying the feel of her unfettered hair around him until he realised that his whole body was contained within her hair. Only his head was free. Rapunzel was watching him pityingly as he was drowning in her tresses. His silken prison began to contract subtly. The caressing was still gentle but there was force behind it.

Johann tried to move his right arm. After an inch the hair pulled his arm back to his body and lashed it there. He tried to thrash his legs. The movement was smothered and then made impossible. Even his fingers were held still. Only his head and his naked erection remained unconfined.

The hair began to lap at his chin.

"What...?" he asked.

Rapunzel's face appeared above him.

"Relax, Johann, and enjoy your surrender," she breathed.

Johann might have replied if the tresses hadn't swamped his mouth gagging him silent. They wrapped over his face and around his head, leaving his nose free. He panted through his nose as they tightened around his chest. Faintly he heard the crone's voice.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

Johann's hope of release from his bonds vanished as Rapunzel shouted back.

"I can't, mother. My hair is busy." 

He heard Rapunzel move away. Even as his eyes were covered he was aware that she had only used a proportion of her hair on him. She still had enough slack to be able to move around the tower. As her footsteps receded he abandoned hope and felt his consciousness receding like a cocooned fly in a spider's web resigned to its fate. Did the fly feel as aroused as I do? he thought as his sexual bondage triggered a useless ejaculation into the air. He slipped into darkness hearing the faint voices of Rapunzel and her mother.

He woke to feel Rapunzel's arms supporting him to a sitting position. She held a cup of water to his lips. He sipped.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Well," he answered. I'm not well, he thought to himself. I'm trapped in her hair and at her mercy. What is she? What will happen to me?

She answered as if she had heard his thoughts.

"You are mine. I told you I am Euryale's daughter. I didn't tell you that she is a Gorgon with snakes instead of hair. My hair is snake-like. I can animate it but it has a will of its own. It needs to feed and human males are its prey. It doesn't need much. A pint of blood every year or so is enough to keep it alive so you will survive it. It took that pint of blood from you last night so you are safe from my hair."

"You will let me go?" Johann asked.

"No. My hair is satisfied. I'm not. I want to make love to you. I have many years of abstinence to redress. I won't wear you out too soon. Three times a day should be enough. It's my mother you have to be afraid of. Her snakes need feeding. They have been living on small mammals in the forest but they prefer human blood. You will meet her shortly. Apart from her hair I'm very like her."

Johann would have screamed. Rapunzel's hair swiftly stifled it in his throat. Rapunzel left the room. Johann gazed at the archway. A nude woman with dark writhing hair stepped through it. Her body was a beautiful as Rapunzel's but her hair was black and seething.

Johann's struggles were useless. Rapunzel's hair held him implacably. Euryale straddled him and pushed his erection into herself. Even as her contractions brought his attention he couldn't take his eyes from the snakes that were her hair. The snakes gradually replaced Rapunzel's hair as the bonds holding him helpless. The snakes' mouths opened and reached for his body. As they touched his skin his orgasm became irresistible. He ejaculated and scarcely felt the sting as a hundred greedy mouths began biting his flesh. His blood drained away as they sucked. Johann fainted.

He awoke to find Rapunzel riding him. He drifted back into sleep as she climbed off. He woke to the sting of the snakes' mouths. He slept until Rapunzel returned.

Hour after hour he was growing weaker. His blood and semen were feeding the Gorgon and her daughter but how long could he survive? They were draining his lifeblood away. Rapunzel's lovemaking was exquisite and almost worth dying to experience. Euryale's passion was as great yet had a skill that Rapunzel didn't have. Between them his life would be blissful if he still had a life left.

Time and time again Johann lost consciousness wrapped in Rapunzel's hair, his prick buried in her body and his mouth lapping at Euryale's pussy. He was growing weaker and weaker every day. They had decided to be merciful and had kept him as their toy for only three months. Some unfortunates had survived in babbling madness for over a year.

Rapunzel



There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a child. Three times a week they have sex in their little cottage but the woman can't seem to get pregnant. These people had a little window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by the people. The enchantress was a beautiful lady in her thirties and men were willing to die to see her.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and looked pale and miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, "What is bothering you, dear wife?" 

"Ah," she replied, "if I can't get some of the rampion which is in the garden behind our house, to eat, I shall die." 

The man, who loved her, thought, "Rather than let my wife die, I should bring her some of the rampion myself, even if it cost my life." 

In twilight of evening, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it with much relish. She, however, liked it so much, so very much, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let himself down again; but when he had clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him. She was wearing a black gown that shows her cleavage well and the man was memorized by her beauty. 

"How dare you," said she with angry look, "to descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You should suffer for it!" 

"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice. I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat." 

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If that is the case, I will allow thee to take away as much rampion as you want, but you must follow my orders and must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world; it will be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother." 

The man in his terror consented to everything and the enchantress signal him into her house. Once inside the house, the enchantress strip off the black gown she was wearing, revealing her mature body and ripe breasts to the man. The man was shocked but aroused at the same time. The enchantress was even hotter than his wife. "Strip and suck me!" the enchantress commanded and the man willing did as he was told. His manhood was fully erected as he eat the woman's pussy, sticking his tongue in as far in as possible. The enchantress gave low long moans, showing that she was satisfied with the job. "Now fuck me!" the enchantress said as she lay on the floor with her hands spreading her pussy lips. The man was more than delighted to follow the order as he positioned himself and started fucking the lady. The enchantress screamed in excitement as the man poked her with his seven inch manhood, giving her the sexual desire which she had lost for years. 

It was not long before the man moaned in pleasure and collapsed onto the floor. His manhood was starting to soften as most of his cum was shot inside the enchantress. This little amount of sex was obvious not enough for the enchantress. She kneeled down in front of the man and started sucking his flaccid dick like a mad woman, forcing the man to erect once more. Before the man could get up, the enchantress had already started ridding his manhood with her anus. The man could only lay back and relax as the enchantress rode his manhood like a horse, sticking it deeply into her anus with each ride. Before he knew it, the man has already cum inside the enchantress for the second time. The enchantress got up and dress back into her black gown, returning to her usual icy self. Only cum flowing down her thighs was prove that she just had a wonderful sexual experience. "Leave now!" the enchantress shouted and the man scrambled out, barely enough time to wear back his clothes. Years past by and finally the couple has a child. When the little one came to them, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took her away. 

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath the sun. Her skin was milky white and she has the loveliest pair of sparkling blue eyes. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but at the top was a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath this and cried, 

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, 

Let down your hair to me." 

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell down, and the enchantress climbed up by it. 

After a few years, Rapunzel grew up into the most gorgeous woman. Her dress could no longer hide those young bosoms that were pointing out and neither could it hide her long slender legs. One day, the King's son rode through the forest and went by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The King's son was memorized by Rapunzel's beauty and felt himself getting aroused. He wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the beauty had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and peeked at the girl. Once when he was standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress came there. Although she was old compared to Rapunzel, her body was still hot and many men would die just to fuck her. He heard how she cried, 

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, 

Let down your hair to me." 

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. "If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I will for once try my fortune," said the King's son, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried, 

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, 

Let down your hair to me." 

Immediately the hair fell down and the King's son climbed up. 

He was attracted to Rapunzel at first sight. Rapunzel was only wearing a light dress reaching to half her thigh and her innocent blue eyes were tempting to every man. Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man as her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her, but the King's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she said yes, and laid her hand in his. The King's son seeing that his plan has worked started stripped and ordered Rapunzel to do the same. Rapunzel did as she was told and it was not long before the two youngsters were nude before each other. Rapunzel stared curiously at the erected manhood as she has never seen one before. 

"What is that?" Rapunzel asked the prince. The prince was startled by Rapunzel's innocence. "It is what all girls like my lady. Try sucking on it" the prince replied. Rapunzel kneeled in front of the prince and started giving him a blowjob. She tasted his precum and came to like the taste. The prince was not idling either. His two hands were firmly gripping Rapunzel's round breasts and fondling them. The bosoms have never been fondled before and the nipples turn hard rock immediately. Rapunzel was getting aroused herself. The prince was a veteran at sex and told Rapunzel to getting into a 69 position. Rapunzel moaned as the prince ate her virgin pussy and fingering her anus at the same time. All this was too much for the innocent Rapunzel and she was the first to reach an orgasm. Her juices flowed out and splashed onto the prince face. "Sorry" Rapunzel apologized guilty. The prince himself was reaching his climax also so he ordered Rapunzel into a doggy style and he fucked her. Rapunzel's vagina was lubricated with her own juices and the manhood slipped in with ease. Rapunzel felt a burning sensation and screamed in pain as her hymen was tore, marking the end of her virginity. At the same moment, the prince shot his cum into her vagina and Rapunzel felt the warm fluid flowing deep inside. 

"Will you leave with me?" the prince asked, panting. 

Rapunzel said, "I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse." They agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day. So this went on for a few months and the prince got to fuck Rapunzel every time he visited her. The enchantress knows nothing of this, until she noticed Rapunzel's stomach getting bigger and bigger.

"Ah! You little bitch," cried the enchantress, "What have you done to make yourself pregnant! I thought I had separated you from the entire world, and yet you have deceived me!" In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snip, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. Next, she cut Rapunzel's dress into pieces and the pregnant girl was naked in the room. Rapunzel tried to run but the enchantress pinned her down and started sucking on her nipples, fingering her pussy at the same time. "I will send you to the place you like most and you will like to be a slut," the enchantress said wickedly as she brought the poor nude girl to the local brothel and sold her for free.

On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel, the enchantress in the evening fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off to the hook of the window, and when the King's son came and cried, 

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, 

Let down your hair to me." 

She let the hair down. The King's son ascended, but he did not find his dearest Rapunzel above, but the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks. "Aha!" she cried mockingly. "You come to fetch my dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest; the cat has got it, and will scratch out thy eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you and you will never see her again." 

The King's son was shocked to see the enchantress and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife. 

Thus he roamed about in misery for some month, and at length came to the brothel where Rapunzel was. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it. Rapunzel was having sex with a customer and her moaning has attracted the prince. When he approached, Rapunzel knew him and pushed the customer away. She was guilty for her own action. Months in the brothel have caused her to have a strong desire for sex and betrayed her prince. She heaved a sigh of relief when she discovered that the prince was blind. 

The prince was overjoyed at finding Rapunzel so he bought her from the brothel and led her to his kingdom where they were joyfully received. Rapunzel given birth to a little girl a few more months later and went on to have a dozen more children. The prince was delighted at this but he never knew that the children were not his. Rapunzel was fucking every man inside the castle and it was no wonder that she could get pregnant so far. The King knew all this but what could he do?? Rapunzel have promised to have sex with the old man once a week and The King could not reject it. He was pleased that his son brought home such a caring wife. 



Rapunzel



Rapunzel was not the maiden in distress you heard of....

Far and wide the story of a beautiful woman Rapunzel, was told to adventuresome princes. The tale goes that in a land far away a tower is erected with no stairs. To climb to the top one must cry out "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair" and down will come a golden nest of hair for you to climb to the young girl. 

Once inside the brave man will have the pleasure of laying eyes on the most beautiful women ever. She is said to have a look so rare and mesmerizing that even for the most experienced of souls it is hard to breathe. 

The guest is then given a challenge: if you can last more than 5 minutes making love with her then untold riches will be bestowed upon you. She will also leave the tower to become your loyal sexual partner and aid, waiting on your hand and foot for as long as you live. 

If you cannot last you die.

Prince Andrew had heard this tale many times. Though he had made love to all the best looking maidens in the land and had a massive fortune but he could not help but wonder. So he devised a plan.

For 3 years he quested for the tower with his faithful servant Hector. Just as Prince Andrew was about to give up, on a summers morning, he saw the tower without a staircase.

He cried "Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair." 

From the massive height tumbled down the most healthy, seductive blonde braid any man had ever seen. It was thicker than a man's forearm. 

Prince Andrew climbed up to the top and through the small door.

Inside his eyes met the young woman's . The stories did not lie - she made the most attractive women in the rest of the world look like old men. Her perfect skin showed no signs of age. Her massive breasts heaved out of tiny blouse. 

Part of Prince Andrews plan was to masturbate before climbing the stairs. This did not help at all because right away his dick was as hard as a rock. Rapunzel smiled as a predator to its prey.

Overcome with lust Prince Andrew's big dick strained. Boldly, he moved forward toward her. He could see her pussy lips were already wet. When she bit her lip playfully he knew that pre-cum had seeped out of him. 

He was so awestruck that she easily pushed him to the bed. She forcefully removed his pants to expose his meaty, swollen member. "5 minutes starts now," came from her lips like a dream to him. 

Upon penetration Prince Andrew experienced something he had never had before. As she evenly inhaled his dick into her tiny vagina balls deep he moaned in pleasure. 

"Can you handle it," she arrogantly whispered in his ear. Prince Andrew was about to say "yes" when he felt something: she was not moving but something inside her certainly was. He could feel her insides constricting and rubbing at the same time. It was like 10 hands jerking him off at once.

Every muscle in his body tensed. His balls tighted and more pre-cum was milked out of him. He closed his eyes in pleasure - trying desperately to hold on. 

Then she started to ride him.

She called out his favorite dirty things; she bucked and moaned with pleasure. Her body gyrated with blinding speed. He was on the brink.

Then she slowed to the slowest gallop imaginable. 10 - 15 seconds per up, 20-30 seconds per down. He fought with all his might but the rumblings in his dick were so strong. 

While he was in the throes of agony/pleasure she whispered again in his ear "that was 1 minute."

Prince Andrew reeled at the notion of how impossible this task was. He felt the dozen hands inside of her jerking his cock with motions he did not imagine to be real. The pleasure was so intense he did not know if he had cum or not.

Just then Hector swooped in. Hector was a tall, large muscular man. He had thrown up a rope and climbed the stair when the two of them had been fucking on the bed. Rapunzel never saw him till the trap was sprung.

Hector grabbed Rapunzel's long thick silky hair and wrapped it around her neck. Just as he pulled the main tight he stuck his giant fat cock into her virgin ass. 

With the loss of air, her unknown love of anal and for the first time her getting force fucked she came immediately. She came so hard and Hector choked her so hard she released the vice grip on Prince Andrew. 

The prince quickly when to work on Rapunzel - tying her arms with her hair and fucking her so hard. Her cum was all over his stomach and legs. Never had a woman been so pleasured. 

For the next 4 minutes Rapunzel came in and out of consciousness to cum again and again. 

At 5 minutes and 1 second both Prince Andrew and Hector burst their fat cocks inside her. All three of them shook and cried out in pleasure. Hector fell to the side (releasing the choking braid) but the cock shocked Rapunzel did not stop.

She reached down to rap her silky locks on Prince Andrew's still twitching member. With the other hand she rapped mountains of her hair all over Prince Andrew. Again the Prince squirted: this time in her golden tresses.

For 6 hours Hector and Prince Andrew took turns fucking Rapunzel. They fucked her so rough she could not walk. Her hair and snatch were layered in their semen. 

See...the story of Rapunzel was not the maiden in distress you heard off.... 



Rapunzel Act 1



Rapunzel: Act I - The Beginning

People have long desired to acquire things that they should not. Perhaps this is part of the human condition. Today it is the quest for money, or power, or fame. But once upon a time in an age long since passed there lived an old couple. Rowan the cabinetmaker and his wife Hazel owned a modest cottage at the edge of the Great Wood. The clean air and abundant fresh water and game meant that they never suffered from hunger, thirst or sickness. Rowan adored his wife and she loved him in return.

But unhappiness plagued them. 

The source of their misery lay in their childless state. For years Hazel had desired a child and so had her husband. They tried, and tried, and tried some more, but no matter what special techniques they employed she simply could not conceive. Hazel eventually grew past the age were she could bear. When her cleft dried up, the moon-decreed crimson flows staunched for all eternity, so did all of her hopes for a family.

Hazel was no Sarai, and Rowan no Abraham. No Angels had visited them in a mission of mercy to make her fertile once more. Their Christian God shut his ears to their pleas, His mysterious workings quite beyond their ken.

But there were other Gods besides Him at work in the Cosmos.

One morning when the old couple woke up they found themselves with a new neighbour. For right beside them, positioned around the small pool where they had drawn their water for the last fifty years sprawled a manor house of ivory. It gleamed like bits of bleached bone in the desert sun. Its crimson roof tiles sparkled in the morning light like freshly spilled blood on a field of unspoiled snow. The abode was one fit for a king. No, for an emperor!

Or, as they found out much later, for an Enchantress.

Rowan and Hazel paced around the manor house, him admiring the straight lines of the stone, the high peaked windows and the precision of every line and seam. Hazel had eyes only for the splendid gardens that surrounded it. Never before had she seen such beautiful flowers and an odd assortment of plants and herbs.

"Why look," said she, "there be a bed of fine rampion, such the like these old eyes have never seen before. Pray, dearest husband, fetch me a handful so I can make us a fine salad for tonight's repast."

"No, dear wife, the garden does not belong to us. Who knows what wickedness the New Lord might do to us?"

"Did he ask our permission before taking our pond, husband?" Hazel huffed. "We shall take some rampion as payment. See to it." Like a Queen after delivering her edict, so did Rowan's wife depart, striding away with confident, albeit exceedingly rapid steps. She knew her husband would obey her. Her husband doted upon her and would do what she desired regardless of how he personally felt about the matter. So it had always been.

Rowan crept into the gardens and violated the pristine bed of rampion, just as an unskilled suitor plowed into a virgin; tousling her hair, mussing up her sheets and leaving bloody, indelible signs of his clumsy passage. Try as he might, he could not hide the fact that two great handfuls of the precious herb had been stolen. With a heavy heart, he ran away with his ill gotten gains.

He never did see the wizened face of the onyx-eyed Enchantress staring out of the window.

The purloined greens made an excellent repast, and in the joy of consuming the delectable victuals all traces of guilt vanished like a shallow puddle in summer's heat. "See," Hazel told her husband, "the greens are lush and sweet, just as I expected." Then Hazel did something she rarely did these days, she kissed her husband full on the mouth. Rowan felt the heat in her kiss, and rose up in response, his manhood growing with each kiss she pressed against his dry lips. Soon he pushed himself into his welcoming wife, competing with his spearing tongue which penetrated the damp cavern of her mouth. He took her mouth with his tongue even as he took her sodden area of female delight with his cock. It had been a long time since she had given herself to him without complaint. A very long time, indeed. As he tupped his wife on the hard wooden tabletop he thanked God for giving him and his wife good health and a deep love for one another. Most importantly, he thanked God for making his wife desire him this very night.

He never realized that his God had absolutely nothing to do with it.

The next morning Rowan awoke violently, driven awake by the piercing screams from his wife.

"Look, oh look, dear Rowan," she wailed, despair filling her voice. "Look what evil the New Lord has wrought upon us!" She lifted her wrinkled, trembling hand and pointed out the window towards the manor house.

A high crenellated wall of white stone surrounded the manor, the top over two man-heights tall. Hazel ran to the attic and peered out of the small, dusty window in the roof. This high up she could see over the wall. Most of the garden remained hidden from view, but not the delicious bed of rampion! It filled her eyes and her heart with avarice.

Rowan's cajoling accomplished naught. Hazel would not budge from her window seat. Three days passed, three long days where Hazel moved not. She sipped on the potted water Rowan brought up for her and chewed listlessly on some of the dried meat and stale bread that remained in the kitchen, but she refused to leave the window overlooking the garden. Rowan noticed with alarm that the rampion bed grew large and juicy while his frail wife grew smaller and weaker, as if her vitality seeped into the rich earth that nourished the verdant plants.

Her disease knew only one cause, and only one cure. "Please, dear husband, steal out into the New Lord's demesne and fetch me some of that Ambrosia. Without it, I shall surely perish." Rowan knew her pleadings to be the truth. Without the rapunzel he would be a widower by month's end.

Rowan departed that night for the Lord's manor for a second time, his legs trembling frightfully the entire away. He approached the massive double doors, gates crossed by thick spars of oaken timber. He knocked thrice upon the gate, then waited patiently. 

Nothing.

"What if he isn't here," Rowan thought to himself. "My wife may well perish before he returns to his land. He has many fine plants in his garden, not just the rapunzel. Surely he would not begrudge me just a little bit." So he scaled the wall with a limberness that surprised him. His body had been like this for almost three days, ever since he and his wife had eaten of the succulent greens from the New Lord's garden. His joints had stopped aching in the nighttime and he had more vitality than he possessed since he was in his thirties. More importantly, he knew again the insistent stirrings of lust, something he had thought extinguished years ago. Every waking moment he desired to bed his wife, though in her near catatonia he had been forced to relieve himself in other, less wholesome ways. The thought of his own wicked acts shamed him. 

The cabinetmaker's feet touched the earth on the far side of the wall, making no more sound than did a moonbeam creeping across a creaky wooden floor at night. He stealthily traversed the garden until he faced the rampion bed. His hand reached out, trembling in his eagerness to collect that which would restore dear Hazel to normalcy once again. 

It was not to be. 

The entire garden lit up, flooding with daylight as if the sun's rays shone in this garden alone. But such was impossible. It was well past mid-night! 

"Hold, thief!" A reedy female voice called out. "Who dares rape my garden?"

Rowan dropped to his knees, knowing that not even a powerful Lord could summon daylight to pierce Night's sable cloak. He now knew what kind of person had constructed this perfect home and garden in a single night. A magus had taken up residence beside him.

Rowan watched the small figure step out of a blazing sphere of amber luminescence. She dressed herself in shimmering robes of silk and brocade, the topaz cloth as brilliant as the mystic sphere itself. Fine velvet slippers embroidered with thread-of-gold adorned her petite feet. But she was old, much older than the cabinetmaker or his wife. Old like the world was old, if not older than that. Her eyes, though. Those merciless black pits looked eternal.

Looking into her serpent eyes, Rowan knew fear.

"Please, Great Mistress," he whined, prostrating himself in front of her, "my wife needs some rampion or else she will die. She craves it like nothing else in this world. Upon tasting it the first time she was merry and gay. Now she resembles a walking corpse, only existing in hopes of one day tasting your sweet vegetable again."

"I care not," the woman said. "Why should I fret over the fate of thieves? I saw you steal my crops, shiftless man. You took that which did not belong to you. That is why I do not care if she does perish."

"And you stole our water!" Rowan replied hotly. If he was to lose his beloved Hazel, he didn't care to go on living. Whether he died of a broken heart or in a burst of flames from a sorceress's caress, death was death. "You claimed the only fresh water for almost a quarter day's journey in any direction."

"Did I? For that I apologize. I meant no harm to you or your wife. Here, please accept this rampion plant as payment for your water rights." She pulled out the tallest, healthiest plant and handed it to him, roots, leaves and flowers all. He cupped the bulbous, long white roots in both of his hands as he gazed up at the bluish-white bellflowers that swayed gently in the nighttime breeze. Her sudden generosity stunned him. He never expected the Noble Lady to apologize, much less offer any reparations for her wrongdoing. The rich took and the poor paid; was that not how the world operated?

"Tell me more about your wife, stranger. How did the leaf effect her?" You see, this was Dame Gothel's true objective. If all the people in the world became the sands of the Sahara, the number of those who could use the rapunzel would amount to less than a thimbleful of sand. If the man's wife could truly use the plant it would mean much to the future welfare of the aged Enchantress. She needed more information.

"Well, when she ate of it, what happened?" Dame Gothel pressed.

"She became excited."

"Excited how?"

"Very warm and loving," Rowan said.

"How loving?" The clipped tone from the Enchantress revealed her anger. She quickly shed her facade of amicability. Rowan knew this intuitively, and did not wish to offend her further.

"I saw in her the sweet young lamb she had been long ago," he whispered. I saw my dear Hazel as she looked a lifetime before."

This is what the old Dame wished to hear. "I see," she said coolly. "Then I offer to her as much of the rampion as she desires, provided that the first child she bears becomes mine."

"Child? Great Lady, my wife is as old as I am. We will not be having any children. God has seen fit not to give us any."

"Don't be so sure, stranger. Is it not said that your God works in mysterious ways?"

"Your God as well, my Lady."

The Enchantress only smiled at the cabinetmaker's naivete. "Well, if you do not expect to have any children, then it should be an easy bargain for you to strike. Your firstborn child for unlimited amounts of rampion. Do you give your consent?"

"No!" 

The vehement response shocked him to his toes. He never imagined he could challenge the will of any Lord, much less a sorceress! He didn't believe for one moment that Hazel would ever bear children. But if she did conceive by the grace of God, there could be no way he would ever give the child up. Not for the entire contents of the garden and the whole bloody manor house along with it!

The old Enchantress smiled, her thin lips twisting into a smirk that did not reach her black eyes. "Then take your single plant and go, stranger. Make sure you never return to this place. It is your life if you come back here." The aged Dame placed a tiny hand upon his shoulder. The next moment, the confused cabinetmaker stood in the kitchen area of his modest cottage once more. He placed his booty on the table lest he spill it upon the floor.

Rowan bounded up the stairs and fetched his weeping wife. Her eyes filled with joy as soon as she saw the beautiful plant sitting on the tabletop. "Dearest Rowan, you have fetched me a whole plant?" Fat tears ran over her sallow cheeks. She reached out and caressed a tender leaf with the same gentle touch she lavished upon his staff when they coupled. 

"The Enchantress insisted that I take it as payment for our water."

"Enchantress?" Hazel said idly, not removing her gaze from the wonderful plant. Rowan related everything to his wife. She shook her head sadly. "I couldn't bear to part with my child. You did the right thing to deny her request." While he spoke, she had been preparing a wonderful salad from the greens, topped with the sugary-sweet slices of the crispy rampion root. She pounced upon her salad, finishing her plate in three heartbeats. Then, seeing Rowan not eating his, she claimed his plate and set about eating that, as well. 

Rowan had not been eating because of the startling changes the Divine Food brought about in his once-aged wife. As she ate the years tumbled off of her, each mouthful stripping off a season, at least. Right before his eyes her body reverted to that of a young maiden. Rowan's mouth dropped open in shock.

"What is it?" Hazel snapped, then she clapped wrinkleless hands over a rosebud mouth suddenly rounded in surprise. Instead of her thin high pitched voice, her tones had been the satiny, lilting notes she had once possessed as a young maiden of eighteen summers.

"What has happened to me?" Hazel said, voice filled with disbelief.

"You are young," Rowan said in hushed tones. "You look as you did the first day I spied you in your father's fields. You are my young Hazel, come again."

"Can it be?" Hazel said, whispering in a voice as low as her husband's. "Can it be that this plant has such power?" Slowly, piece by piece, young Hazel stripped off her garments, standing in the little room as naked as the day she was born. The cabinetmaker and his wife owned no mirror, the cost of the silver too dear for their modest means, but she could well read the lust reflected in her husband's eyes. His throbbing cock told her everything she needed to know. He had spoken the truth. "If it be so," she said, smiling, "let us do what young lovers do, dear husband." Hazel leaped upon her man, tearing off his clothes and raining kisses upon his face, neck, and shoulders. He was too stunned to resist. But what older man would resist any advances from a young, buxom woman? Especially if the delicious morsel was his lawfully wedded wife! She straddled him and rode fiercely upon his cock, working him in and out of her until he fired great gobs of semen deep into her belly. This short, albeit hard, ride failed to satiate her. She bit, tweaked and fondled him until he became rigid again. Then she took her man again for a longer, more leisurely canter to the Plains of Paradise. 

After that second journey no amount of her sexual teasing could make him stiff again. She contented herself with cuddling with her husband upon the hard packed earthen floor.

"It is true. I am young again," she said, kissing Rowan's neck and cheek. "I am young after partaking of only one plant. Who knows what more could do? You will go back to the Enchantress and say that we accept her bargain. Our firstborn child for as much rapunzel as we wish."

Rowan protested mightily. He would not give up any child of his! Hazel, ever the voice of cold reason, placed a long tapered fingernail over his wrinkled lips to silence him. "Remember, dear husband, I am young. You are not. I will quickly lose interest in the old dried up rake you have become. You shall go back to Our Lady and get more rampion for us to eat together, so you shall regain your youth and vigour. Then we shall live out our lives again with a houseful of children to keep us company. Would that not be wonderful? Remember, my dearest heart, if I can bear one child I can bear a second, and a third ... 

Her voice trailed off as she laid gentle kisses upon his cheeks and lips. As if by some kind of enchantment – which it most assuredly was – he grew stiff yet again. He pulled his young wife to him and laid her across the table, plowing into her with long, vigourous strokes. It had been a long week without his wife's company. Now he used her for his pleasure and his relief. The liquid sounds of their union showed her to be enjoying her husband's attentions as well. Never before did Rowan remember ever lasting so long, or plying his staff so skillfully. His beautiful wife writhed under him, brought to the highest plateaus of pleasure at least three times before he concluded the act by filling her thirsty womb with seed, as God had intended. Rowan's newfound puissance bled from him, as if it leaked out of his scepter along with his seed. He collapsed upon his woman. Rowan felt as if he had just run an entire day without stopping! But the pleasantness of this particular stripe of exhaustion would be welcome at any time. 

"Will you do as I say, dearest husband?" Her languid voice stroked his eardrums the way it used to so many years ago. Rowan did not answer his wife, but neither did he protest again. His silence signaled compliance. Hazel had an accomplice in her sin.

The next day Rowan rose with the sun, just as he had every day of his life. He dressed quickly and did his morning chores, as if nothing was amiss. Performing his daily routine helped him to steel his nerves against that which was to come. Soon he must confront the Enchantress and perhaps meet his death. Had she not promised to slay him if he ever returned? But for his wife's happiness he would risk destruction. He went to the manor house and shouted over the wall. "Lady, sweet Dame, please open the gate. My wife and I agree to your terms!" But no one answered his cry. For three hours Rowan stood there, shouting until his voice grew hoarse and his hands ached from his incessant pounding upon the implacable gates. No one opened the gates for him. Upset and weary, the cabinetmaker finally returned to his cottage and his anxious wife.

Hazel did not take the news of his failure well. "Go back at night as you did before, dear husband. Go back at night and seal the bargain." Just as before, Hazel would not be dissuaded. Her piteous cries melted his heart. He could deny her nothing. Rowan waited until the sun had set and Darkness swaddled the land in her ebon tresses. Only then did he return to the manor house, with fear weighing down his every step.

Two things shocked him. One, when he approached the gate he found it to be wide open. The second, the old woman stood in the center of the opening, wearing nothing but a transparent slip spun out of spider's silk. Her breasts were wrinkled, flaccid sacs sewn onto her chest and her belly a puffy roll about her midsection, but still did he feel the blood rush to his groin to stiffen his scepter. The old Dame exuded a primitive sensuality that her age did could not efface. Without being commanded, Rowan the cabinetmaker stepped through the gate and into the Demesne of the Enchantress.

"You have returned as I expected," Dame Gothel said smugly. "Do you agree to my terms?"

"Yes," Rowan said.

"Tell me exactly what it is that you shall do for me."

Rowan cast his eyes heavenward, as if to make sure God was not looking as he confessed his sin. "Our firstborn child will be your child. Hazel and I relinquish all claims to it. Son or daughter, the child will be yours."

The Enchantress smiled at this and laid a wrinkled paw upon Rowan's chest. She hissed, as if her palm burned. Her eyes narrowed, peering at Rowan from beneath tiny slits. He took a step back in alarm. "Hold!" she said with an iron voice that could pulverize stone. Rowan stood fast, so frightened he feared he would soil himself. The crone circled him slowly, eyeing him from all angles, but not daring to touch him again.




Rapunzel Act 1



"What is your name, stranger? What is it you do?"

Rowan gave her his name and his trade. She did not seem convinced. Cabinetmakers make good coin, said she. Why are you so poor? He admitted that he would never be a success at his trade because he didn't produce enough work. Whereas other people would go deep into the Great Wood to hew down the largest, most beautiful trees for their craft, he would only work with timber that had died naturally. Obviously, that meant not very much wood came to his workshop, and he produced very little furniture as a result. He could not bear to touch a murdered tree. He could hear its agony in his mind, sometimes even feel the forest's pain.

"The Old Blood," she said, excitement lacing her voice. "You are of the Old Blood, cabinetmaker. Your wife is not the important one. She has merely absorbed some of your essence over time." She let her small, hard hands roam over his body. He trembled under her rough touch. "Stand fast, man," she ordered. As much as he wanted to, he could not stop his limbs from quaking. 

She may have possessed a small frame, but the Dame also had a magically enhanced strength equal to three men. She ripped the clothing off of him, leaving him standing naked before her. She grabbed the base of his cock and slowly pumped him to life.

"I shall show you something, Rowan. Something you shall not soon forget." She took from about her neck a tiny crystal vial and opened it. She poured its contents upon his erect phallus. The fires of hell flared up in his groin. Rowan bawled like one of the damned, like a man being put to the question in a Lord's dungeon. His cock felt so hot he thought it would ignite. When he dared to look down upon himself he renewed his screams. 

His penis had grown, its girth the same as his wrist and its length the same span as from his elbow to the tip of his middle finger. Such a thing was impossible, he knew. But impossible or not, the titanic spar sat heavily in Dame Gothel's hands, throbbing with power.

"You see, cabinetmaker? The Old Blood flows within your veins. This aspect of yourself has been released by the touch of the World's Tears upon you. That water comes from my well that that reaches into the very heart of the earth itself." 

"How is such a thing possible?" Rowan asked. "Who could use such a thing?" 

"Do you think a woman could not?" she replied, voice larded with amusement and scorn. "In these modern times people think that the purpose of life is to amass things, cabinetmaker. But you know the truth. The only purpose of life is to create more life. And to that end, you need the proper equipment." The aged Dame knelt in front of the stunned cabinetmaker, reversing her grip on his rod as if it were a spear she would thrust into her own breast. "Oh yea, one needs a munificent tool indeed if he is to populate an entire world with his progeny. That was the charge given to the Earth Lords aeons ago." With that, the aged Enchantress stretched her mouth wide then descended upon his mighty branch. No more than the head of his spear would go inside. Dame Gothel had a skillful mouth, one that quickly brought him to completion.

Or at least it would have, if Rowan had maintained control over himself. A strange thing happened to him as he stood there being serviced by Dame Gothel. Rowan became intoxicated by his own power. The Great Lady was a Enchantress, true, a woman who could crush stone, summon the lightning, and quell storms upon the seas. Her power could sink ships and level mighty fortresses. And this selfsame woman now knelt before him and suckled upon his cock like an ordinary whore from the foulest slum. This was heady stuff, indeed! Rowan felt his control over his actions slipping, just like it used to do when he had bedded his wife for the first few years of their union. Fear bled away from him, replaced by hot lust and the desire to spread his seed indiscriminately like the dandelion. Unlike the pernicious plant, his seed was limited in supply. He must place it carefully, only where it would do the most good. That meant he must inject it deep within Dame Gothel.

Rowan picked up the Enchantress and carried her over to a low boulder. He draped her across it upon her back, holding the fleshy parts of her arms pinioned upon the rocky surface. Her head pointed toward the ground, her long grey locks laying upon the cool grass, "Madness, complete madness," Rowan thought to himself. "She will slay me for sure!" His mind wished to release the woman and to flee, but his body was no longer controlled by his will. He released her arms and crawled over her, grasping both of her spindly legs in his hands and drawing them apart. Her goddess’ mound looked smooth, the only unwrinkled part of her body. Wispy grey hairs dusted the pubic area, the fine strands as transparent as the gossamer silk shift that sheathed her body. The eiderdown-soft hair made a silken trail all the way to her navel. Rowan followed it right to her secret crevice, pulling the lips of the recessed clam apart so he could access her core.

A swath of pearlescent pink skin greeted him, crossing his vision like a lightning bolt streaking across a storm-tossed sky. What trickery was this? His cock throbbed, filled with latent, frustrated potency.

"I have been sealed, cabinetmaker. My insides withered by magic, then sewn shut by my dam. Children often take the best attributes of their parents. It was decided that I would keep that which was my own gift from my parents. Whatever the cost." Dame Gothel’s voice sounded strident but he could feel the frustration that coursed through her veins, her loss and her sorrow. Just like with the trees he could feel that which went unspoken. The purpose of life was to create more life, she had said. She was denied the opportunity to do so, thwarting her in fulfilling her role as a woman.

Rowan raised his head and roared at the eternal firmament that twinkled above him. The Celestial Lords peered down upon him, curious as to what transpired below. It had been an Age since a Lord of the Earth had wandered the Terran Realm, even if it seemed to be a rather insignificant one.

With a sudden motion, Rowan swooped down upon the crone’s sex and latched his lips around her concealed pleasure nubbin, teasing the recalcitrant bud up out of its hood. It grew large and firm beneath his lips and swirling tongue, the sweet berry swelling up as if it intended to fill his entire mouth. The Enchantress gasped, opening her mouth wide so she could suck in more air. 

It was at that moment, when Dame Gothel’s mouth stretched wide open, that Rowan fully claimed his prize. 

He angled his hips forward and shoved his cock deep into her awaiting mouth. He roughly took the Enchantress's face, listening in delight as her throat noisily stretched to take all him inside, expanding like a bullfrog's gorget. He rammed himself into her, sure that he reached all the way into her entrails. He used her roughly, enjoying the way his now fist sized bollocks slapped her on the nose as he used her like a butter churn. The powerful strokes smacked her skull against the cool stone, causing her to grunt around his girth. He only had one goal, and that was to deposit his seed within her. 

With a groan, Rowan felt his penis empty, depositing his mighty seed deep within the stomach of the prone Lady. He thrust forward one last time, burying his staff as deep as it would go, luxuriating in the feel of the sorceress's esophagus as it milked him of every last drop of his potency. Still he was not satisfied. He leaned back and grasped her head by her hair, using the long grey tendrils as handles so he could continue to pump into her mouth. Spittle oozed out of her, the clear sap running out of her like that of a tapped maple tree at the spring thaw. Her face grew shiny with it, glazed by the mixture of saliva and male seed. He continued to ply his tool into her until he felt it go dead within her. He had finally exhausted himself. 

His manhood shrunk, returning to its normal appearance. His flaccid cock slipped out easily from between the bruised lips of the captured sorceress. Rowan took two steps back, his sticky cock slapping against his inner thigh. The old Dame stroked her stomach, her wizened hands gliding over her rounded belly. Her eyes remained closed.

Gods, she would destroy him for sure! The Enchantress rolled off of the stone, landing heavily upon the grass below. She clutched at the rock, using it to lever herself to her feet. The woman looked as shaky as the cabinetmaker felt. She stood absolutely still, seemingly not even breathing. Her long grey hair obscured her visage and expression from his sight. When next Rowan beheld her face, it was to see her smiling widely, his ejaculate dripping out of a corner of her mouth. Surely it was due to the poor illumination, but her face didn't look as deeply lined as it had previously. And her hair; did flecks of reddish gold now nestle among the rivers of ashen grey?

"The Old Blood sings in your veins, beautiful man," she said with a smile, licking the last bit of his spend from the corner of her mouth with a pink slip of tongue. "Those who possess it can perform miracles." She cupped both of her breasts and pinched the nipples through her gauzy garment. They seemed more full, more round than they had upon his entry into the garden. She looked into his face and smiled even wider than before.

"You think that I did not shed as many years as your wife did," she said with a smirk. "In truth, I lost many more years than did your wife. It is just that my lifespan is not measured in mere seasons. I have much more time to shed before I regain my nubility."

"What are you telling me, Great Lady?" Inside he cringed. Surely she was not proposing marriage!

"Every seventh day you shall come at mid-night to collect fresh rampion for your wife. Every time you do, you shall provide me with that which I require."

Rowan wanted to protest, to say that it was a sin to commit adultery, to utter anything that would make him never have to do this awful thing again, but knew it all to be a pack of lies. He'd never felt so powerful in his entire life as when he had snatched up the Enchantress and made her his whore. She had the power to incinerate him, to send his soul screaming into oblivion, or to turn him to stone but still had he picked her up like the smallest kitten and used her for his own pleasure. He had never even done such a thing with his own wife! Is this how kings felt when they played with their concubines and courtesans? Is this the feeling that those with power over women possessed?

He loved that feeling almost as much as he did his dear wife Hazel. He wished to keep both.

"What say you, Earth Lord? Will you return in seven days to fetch the herb for your wife?"

Earth Lord. Yes. The title pleased him. "I will come," he replied solemnly.

"Yes. Yes you will." Dame Gothel played with his cock, mashing his stones lightly, then suddenly applying more pressure than was comfortable. Despite the mild discomfort, Rowan felt the sap run through his branch once more. "Perhaps there's a little more fluid left for me to entice out," she said with a grin. She knelt gracefully before Rowan and slipped his stiffening spar between her expert lips. It did not take long for it to become a mighty staff. Although his member remained just a normal tool, he plied it with the same amount of finesse as before. It took some time, but eventually both the Enchantress and Rowan received that which they desired from the illicit union. With this second deposit a second bargain had been struck.

"Now go, my sweet slave, go back to your wife and take her rampion with you." Rowan looked about for his clothes, but only saw bits of torn cloth strewn about like bloody bits of flesh and scraps of sinew left behind by feeding wolves in the hills. He hadn't even realized that the aged Dame had actually torn them up after snatching them off of his body. "Leave now, woodworker. Go back to your wife accoutered the same way you came out of your mother's womb."

Reddening in shame yet not willing to disobey the witch's command, Rowan gathered up as much of the rampion as he could carry then skulked out of the garden, running all the way back to his humble abode. Like Adam, he had full knowledge of his sins and sought to hide his nakedness with the leaves of plants.

His wife awaited his return. If she noticed the naked state of her husband she remained silent. She only had eyes for the rampion he held in his arms. She didn't even deign to speak to him as she reached over to pluck a single leaf from a stalk and to pop it into her mouth. Rowan told his wife everything that had transpired, only keeping his feelings about the encounter secret. She didn't react as he had expected her to. Instead of being upset, she seemed rather excited by the events. To thank him for his endeavours Hazel allowed him to do something to her that she had never allowed in over five decades of marriage. She draped herself over the kitchen table and spread her buttocks apart, telling him that her darker passage of amatory bliss was his to use and enjoy. The thought of it was enough to get Rowan hard in a heartbeat. He softened some cooking fat in the flames of a tallow candle, then smeared it over his throbbing cock and between the cheeks of her pale, smooth ass. So prepared, he felt ready to plunge into her. Creeping slowly at first, Rowan squirmed his way deep into her darker crevice. Once she adjusted to his girth, he felt free to use her arse as he had her regular tunnel in the past, with long, firm strokes. 

He wanted to hear her screams, and he relished every piercing cry he wrought out of her. For you see, it was not Hazel he was taking there in the small kitchen. In his mind it was the sorceress bent over this table, wailing at him to push his thick dowel into her. Every fierce thrust into his wife became one into the woman who had humiliated him in the garden. In his fantasy the crone became the captive, and he the Lord who bent her to his will. He gained a perverse satisfaction in firing his hot spunk deep into the bowels of his loving wife. The Dame of the Keep seemed to want his semen more than anything else in the world. It felt good to squander even this little bit, burying it where the hag would never find it.

Hazel quite mistook the reason for the contented sounds that issued forth from Rowan as he rested against her back on the tabletop. "Did I please you, my husband?" she said, wiggling her ass gently against him.

"More than you could ever imagine," Rowan replied, kissing her shoulder. "I feel like a new man." And indeed, he was a new man. Eldritch power indued his limbs and his phallus with the power of the earth. For the fourth time this night his prick obtained hardness, allowing him to take his wife again. He pounded into her proper hole until sunup, when the sun's light washed away the last traces of Night's blanket. Only then did he cease his labours, injecting life into his wife's depths one last time before succumbing to Lethe's gift. Both fell asleep upon the packed earth of the kitchen, the first morning in over half a century that the cabinetmaker had not awoken with the dawn.

And so it went, just as the Enchantress had decreed. Once a week Rowan entered the Garden of the Enchantress and paid his due. As time progressed, so did his confidence with the Enchantress. No act was too vile, no position so aberrant that could not be performed. But the fact remained that this woman lacked the one thing that made a female a woman in truth. This reality kept Rowan unsatisfied. The Dame would never totally be his woman because she lacked the vital equipment that all women possessed. This benefitted Hazel to no end, who received all of his pent up frustrations when he returned to her. 

Three months to the day after Hazel had first tasted the rampion she announced to her man that she was carrying his child. The Dame decreed that Rowan should cease all marital relations with Hazel, lest the child be harmed by his ardour. Hazel was discomfited by this but was reluctant to bring about the wrath of an enraged sorceress. She obeyed Dame Gothel’s command, although with a heavy heart. Rowan barely suffered during the loss of use of his wife as the Enchantress took care of all his needs in the interim. 

This arrangement was no hardship on the Earth Lord’s part, for she now resembled a curvaceous woman in her fourth decade of life, with a fiery mane that reached all the way to her ankles. The shade of her hair well matched her disposition. But Rowan possessed the instrument that could silence her and keep her meek, compliant and contented. He went weekly into her Garden to sow his seed, though it never found root in the Enchantress' barren soil no matter how many times he tilled it. Even though it was a fruitless task he enjoyed making the Dame, old no longer, howl with passion and pleasure. He took her in any way he wished, and she accepted his advances without complaint. Once he felt her to be well and truly mastered he decided to increase his visitations. When the sun set Rowan rose, each and every night.

The Enchantress remained content to let him think her cowed for the nonce. 

Nine months passed quickly for Rowan and his harlot. Much slower for the carrying Hazel, who was left alone much of the time. Rowan always seemed tired, totally devoid of all energy until the sun set. As soon as Night cradled the earth to her bosom, rocking all God-fearing creatures to sleep he awakened, hale and ready. If not for the rampion he supplied her with daily she would have complained bitterly. 

The time finally came for Hazel to bear her child. Dame Gothel was in attendance, wearing only her skin and a few golden trinkets around her neck. In deference to the child she had removed her rings and bangles from her fingers and wrists. Such objects had no place on the hands of the midwife! The delivery was simplicity itself. Hazel was healthy and strong, the rampion keeping her in fine shape. No, it was not the actual birthing that caused Hazel distress, but the child itself.

The girl-child had a hazelnut's colouration and Nubian-black hair. The only concession it made to her parents’ appearance were the intense blue eyes she possessed that skewered anything they focused upon. And they did focus; the babe's head moved around the domicile, following Rowan's movements carefully.

It had no mind for its mother who lay prostrate on the bed. 

"Why does the child not cry?" Hazel asked the Enchantress. The girl remained silent, refusing to wail. "Is she ill? Give her here." Hazel reached her hands up to hold her child. Dame Gothel kept her away. "You shall never touch her again," the sorceress said. "She is mine. I name her after the enchanted herb that made her birth possible. Rapunzel shall be her name."

With those words, Hazel knew remorse. But no amount of pleading would sway the Enchantress. A bargain had been struck, and the witch's end of the bargain had been kept. She would claim her child as payment. Hazel wept bitterly.

"I have something else to tell you," the Enchantress said with a wide grin. "Never again will either one of you feel the joy of the herb again. Its efficacy has been passed on to Rapunzel. Here, see for yourself." The sorceress placed a rampion leaf on Hazel's tongue and bade her to chew upon it. It tasted like dead grass in her mouth. The sorceress then turned to Rowan.

"But you, beautiful man are a different case. You are of the Old Blood. You need no herb for your power. Your ability requires something else." She touched his chest lightly, causing his clothes to vanish in a puff of smoke. He had stood naked in front of her so often he felt no shame at this. Hazel said nothing, her mind on other matters. 




Rapunzel Act 1



The Enchantress deftly stroked him to full hardness with a practiced hand, using the other to hold her new babe. "You believed that the World's Tears made you assume your other aspect. Observe for yourself the truth, woodworker." She released her grip on his penis then took his hand and placed upon Rapunzel's scalp. The Enchantress then chucked the child under her chin, causing the babe to giggle in delight. She stuck the tip of her little his finger between the babes lips, wetting it with her saliva. This she placed between the lips of the bewildered craftsman. In a flash, the familiar burning infused his loins as his penis sprouted to full length. His mighty branch had been restored as if bathed in the water from the Enchantress' well. Hazel gasped in shock, as did Rowan. Dame Gothel plucked Rowan's hand from her child.

"Observe, faithless woman. Look upon the potency of the earth that you could have enjoyed for the rest of your days had you not been so selfish." As always, with the appearance of the Earth Lord's tool came his infernal lust. Rowan looked around for some way to relieve himself. The only woman close at hand was his prostrate wife, still weak from the effort of bearing a child. Such a trivial thing did not matter to Rowan in his present state. He seized Hazel by the hair and forced his cock between her lips. She moaned in protest, smacking her hands against his hips, but he would not be denied. He raped her mouth, pushing in the out of with hard strokes until he loosed his seed.

A miraculous thing happened at that moment. All of the pain and trauma of the birth disappeared. Hazel felt energized, as if she had just consumed an entire bushel of the once-effective herb. She, too, succumbed to lust. She was already well stretched from the earlier passage of Rapunzel, the Enchantress' new child. Accepting her engorged husband proved to be no great matter. He fell upon her, using her as a woman should be used. She bucked against him in passion and in lust. Who could tell who craved the other more? The purpose of life was to create life. They were caught up in the eternal dance, a dance destined to have an unsatisfactory ending. No way could a woman fresh from childbirth ever immediately conceive.

"Enjoy her, Earth Lord. Just as she will never know the joys of the rampion again, so shall your enhanced member be denied you forevermore. That which you needed to summon it has been passed to my child. Once I leave with her, you will never again possess it." The Lady of the Garden raised her hand to the heavens, then vanished with her Rapunzel in a flash of light. Rowan and his wife did not see her go, intent as they were upon their lovemaking. Rowan plunged into his wife like it would be the last time he would ever sample her. He was not far from the truth. None of their couplings would ever be the same again. Both of them knew it. When he finally expended himself within her she wrapped her legs tightly around his buttocks, forcing every last bit of him inside of her, desperate to feel him and to be filled by him it in that way a mortal man never could. Both knew it would have to end. Rowan shrank from a staff to a wand, then slipped out of his sobbing wife.

It was then that they heard a great crash from outside. Rowan raced to the window and looked out. The manor had collapsed, its perfect white stones and the crimson roof now just a jumble of shattered rock and broken red tile. The ruins looked as ancient as some of the stones from the old Roman fortresses that turned up once in a while in the farmer’s fields. Rowan looked back into the shaken eyes of his beautiful wife. They both knew that life could never go back to the way it had been. 

Although Rowan and Hazel wouldn't immediately part ways, they would separate 'ere long. Hazel looked like a woman with barely nineteen summers upon her, and Rowan a man with twenty. Although healthy and hale, both felt something missing from their lives. They had been granted the one thing that they desired more than anything else in the world and had sold it cheaply. Not only had they lost what had been gained, but also what little joy they already possessed. In losing their child, they lost themselves. 

Hazel never felt satisfied with Rowan again. She left for the city to work as a prostitute in the brothels. Her youthful vitality faded as her hardships mounted. In time the young woman looked more haggard in her twenties than she had as an old woman in her seventies. 

Rowan also left the cottage by the Great Woods. He, however, set out to find his lost child. He walked the earth barefoot, always maintaining his connection with that from which he gained his vitality. He had no map, and no idea where to search. But search he must. He had to find his sweet Rapunzel and make amends.



Rapunzel Act 2



Rapunzel: Act II - The Maiden of the Wood

Rapunzel, a most precocious child, grew up happy. She had been raised by Dame Gothel with much love and affection. Deep in the heart of the Great Wood they lived, surrounded by the fragrant cedars and the stout oaks, the weeping willows and the flashy birches in their coats of silvery white. Rapunzel learned the names and the properties of each of the plants and fungi, but not from the Dame who jealously guarded her arcane knowledge. No, the plants themselves revealed their secrets to her, for she could speak to them as clearly as a man could converse with his neighbours.

Men would dare enter these woods only with good reason. The wild magic still reigned here, and wise folk learned to stay out of the fey lands. Only brave men or fools dared venture here.

Or, perhaps, the driven. Here in the perilous wood Rowan Earth Lord finally found his long lost child after ten seasons of wandering the lands. He knew it to be her after the first glimpse. Her hazelnut brown skin and midnight tresses that licked her heels instantly marked her as such. The slight girl slipped through the underbrush like a phantom, her feet not rustling the vegetation of the forest floor in the slightest way. If he had not seen her moments before he would never have known that a human had ever passed there.

But he did know as he had seen. With a joyous shout he set out in pursuit of his truant offspring.

He had not taken even three steps toward his child when the world went white, suddenly enshrouded in heavy clinging mist that poured through the branches of the trees like water through the holes in a sieve. The heavy cloud beaded up on his skin, slicking him down like sweat. He knew enough about his former lover to recognize the feel of one of her enchantments.

"Come out Gothel," he shouted. "I am here for my child. Bring her to me." 

"Can it be that your senses have left you, cabinetmaker? Your presence is most unwelcome. Your child is not here, only my child remains. Begone."

But Rowan would not go, not after spending so long in fruitless searches for his child. "Let me see her, Gothel."

Dame Gothel strode through the woods, the mists parting before her in obedience. She wore not a stitch, her flawless body displayed to best effect by the trinkets she wore. Upon seeing the delectable redhead, Rowan’s scepter twitched irritably in his loins. It had been a long time, indeed.

"Still potent I see, Earth Lord," Gothel said. "But I do not need you."

"Nor I you," he replied. "All I desire is my child. My life is empty without her in it. Without her I shall soon perish."

"Then perish, foolish man. At least you die for something other than a handful of grass! You gave up an innocent babe for worldly desire, cabinetmaker. Death is what you so richly deserve."

"Well I know it." Rowan's heartfelt sob escaped his lips. "But I would see her first, even if only for the briefest of glimpses."

Dame Gothel considered his request and his presence. He had come to find his daughter. He must truly love her. Yet, Rapunzel remained dear to Gothel's heart as well. She would never let her child go.

Despite her callous words the Enchantress did lust for the Earth Lord. She still had a use for him.

"Rowan, if you come within ten strides of your daughter you shall fall down dead. Thanatos shall claim you if you ever speak to her. Such was the geas I laid upon you and your wife. This prohibition even I cannot lift. If you seek to claim your child you will fall into oblivion." 

"Death comes for as all," he replied. "If I could spy my child again before I left this world, I would die content."

The Dame considered this. Rowan had served her well in the past, and could in the future. But she would not permit him to have contact with his offspring. The Blood of the Ancients ran strongly in the Dark Child. She would instantly feel an affinity with her father. How would she feel about Gothel then? Would Rapunzel leave her and choose to go with her blood relation? Probably. 

This ending Gothel refused to contemplate.

"I shall do better than merely allowing you to see your child, Earth Lord. I shall arrange it so you can spend every waking moment with her for as long as you remain in this place. My only condition is that I will disguise you so she will never recognize you as her parent. Do you agree to this?"

Rowan did not trust the deceitful witch. He had suffered at her hands before. "Only if you swear that this disguise will not physically harm me in any way," he replied cautiously. The wasp stung, the asp bit and the Enchantress lied; each creature behaved according to its own natural proclivities. "I do not want to be with my daughter from underneath the stones of my funerary cairn."

Dame Gothel caressed his muscular chest, running long aristocratic fingers through his curly thatch of blond hair. "So little trust, Rowan. Why should this be so?"

Rowan seized a slender wrist of the Enchantress, pulling her hand upwards, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Her ankle bangles clinked musically at the sudden motion. "Have a care, Earth Lord. Your familiarity will have severe repercussions."

"It already has, Wood Witch. Knowing you has cost me my wife and my child. Now I have nothing and no one. Death holds no fear for me."

"There are many ways to die, Lord of the Earth. Some fleeting, others dreadfully slow." Although he felt no fear at the threat, he thought it best to obey the woman who could deliver him his child. He released her, letting her fall to the spongy earth. Only the jangle of bracelets and her chiming ankle ornaments made sound. 

"So. You can still reason and obey, if only to fulfill your own desires. Very good. I can definitely use you." With that, the sultry seductress knelt in front of the naked man, massaging his member to iron hardness with her preternatural skill. "Some things never change, Rowan. Your member is still beautiful."

"Enough flattery, crone. Fetch me my child."

"Crone? Is this the face of a crone I possess? Do these breasts belong to an old woman?" Truly, they did not. Dame Gothel looked to be a woman in her twenties. Mature, but still close enough to her maidenhood so the rosy flush of youth still endued her limbs.

"I know you for what you are, hag. The fair wrapping conceals your rankness."

"You came to me of your own free will, even when I had the face and form of that selfsame hag. That did not stop you from taking me as was your wont."

"I had no choice."

"There is always a choice," the Enchantress said. "It is just a matter of whether one is willing to pay the price or not." With that bit of wisdom, she dove upon him, feeding his shaft between her plump, moist lips.

Many seasons had passed since any woman had touched him so. Despite her penchant for trickery, he could not deny that the red haired damsel possessed a fair face and form. The old spell of lust she wove around him a decade ago again constricted about his stiffened flesh. Despite his anger and reservation, he found himself enjoying the Enchantress' skill. She knew well Aphrodite’s techniques and always managed to bring him an intense orgasm. He did note a hint of impatience this time, a touch of desperation had been absent from their earlier liaisons.

"My child, woman. Where is Rapunzel?" Rowan felt the faint stirrings of doubt within his breast, even as the great stirrings of lust raged within his stout tool. He could trust the Enchantress' word, aye, but he could trust her to warp those words for her own purposes. "In return for a glimpse of my child I will give you that which you obviously desire from me." He pushed the feeding Enchantress off of his rod and held it flat against his belly. Her still-ravenous mouth reached for him, receiving a stiff thwack across the lips from his rigid member for her presumptuousness. Gothel hissed in frustrated anger.

"What I want you want as well, beloved Rowan. Remember the God's Tool? Remember how I said you would never possess it again? What if I said I could restore it?"

Restored? That would be wonderful! He had felt incomplete during its absence. Its lack had driven Hazel into the arms and beds of other men in the cities. She searched for that which her man could no longer provide. That part of him – the best part – could be restored?

"How, Gothel? How will you accomplish this thing?"

She did not speak. Instead, she again plucked a small vial off of her neck chain, this one as delicate as the nail of her smallest finger.

"The World's Tears? I thought you said they would no longer work upon me?" The rest of his words and thoughts were snuffed out by the hellfire that raged in his loins. Oh, but what a sweet agony! For he knew that the scorching touch of the water heralded even hotter, searing passions within him.

The water that Gothel anointed him with did not come from the destroyed well that once led into the earth's heart. No, she used Rapunzel's Tears, a liquid more puissant and rare than diamonds of the first water. For you see, the happy child never cried.


The liquid had the intended effect. Rowan's scepter became the raging Staff of the Earth, even wider of girth and greater of length that it had been ten seasons ago. Ten seasons of neglect had not weakened it. Rather, it had used the decade-long respite to rejuvenate itself. Gothel had long experience handling him and his magnificent equipment. She did not quail from him. Her mouth wrapped around the substantial head of his cock. 

Rowan almost fell forward to skewer her with his spear but he decided to stand still and to enjoy the natural sorcery that Gothel performed upon him. One did not need to be an Enchantress to perform this particular brand of magic. His limbs felt ephemeral, as light as the dust motes that danced upon the breeze, glinting in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the thick forest canopy. But something was not right. An annoying numbness crept into his fingertips and palms, a sensation like that of clutching a hoary, thick icicle from the eaves of his former cottage in wintertime. He lifted his hands to his face to examine them.

His hands and arms all had a tough, scaly skin upon them, a silvery brown covering that thickened even as he watched. Similar, shimmery skin grew upon his loins and legs.

No, not skin. Bark. Tree bark grew upon him!

Rowan tried to speak, to shout a question at Dame Gothel but his voice no longer functioned. He could only crane his head downwards to stare into the guileless, round eyes of the Dame as she sucked the life out of his still-rigid cock. It, too, now possessed a fine silvery bark.

"No treachery here, Rowan Earth Lord," Gothel whispered. "You shall see your child, and she, you. She will come to love you and spend happy days frolicking at your roots and climbing through your strong branches. The dandelion sends out endless legions of its seed but the majority never take root. Your mighty seed has sprouted only once, but such a wonder she is! You shall see her mature for you will live, Rowan. Time moves slowly in the Great Wood. You shall still be here growing strong when the cities of man are heaps of dust upon the plains. Your brethren welcome you home."

The trees around him sighed, speaking of the joy they felt at his arrival, curious as to why he had worn flesh upon entering the Wood and had refused to converse with them at that time. Rowan ignored them, instead stretching his hands up to the heavens, praying with all his might to his god to deliver him from evil.

In this attitude his limbs froze, his upraised limbs sprouting a multitude of slender branches and thick foliage, compound and pinnate in form. The man had disappeared. A slender rowan tree stood in its place, healthy and alive. Gothel still held his staff in her hand, the member looking like a second trunk that had sprouted from the side of the main body, as rowan trees are wont to do. Thick drops of pearlescent sap bled out of the bulbous tip, every pregnant drop gathering at its crown, then creeping down the underside of the staff. Gothel placed her tongue underneath one of them and licked it up with relish.

The drop rejuvenated her, just as she had expected. Each one had similar properties to Rapunzel's Tears.

"As you serve me, so shall I serve you, Rowan. Your daughter shall know you, as I promised." Gothel stayed upon her knees, working Rowan's Staff with vigour, coaxing as much of the sap out of him as she could. It remained somewhat pliant in her hands, but soon it hardened, taking on the texture of wood. She pushed at it, moving it so it pointed up, though still jutted out at a slight angle. There it stayed, rigid as a man's limbs undergoing rigor mortis upon his expiring.

She kissed the head of the staff one more time then departed, calling for her obedient child to attend her.

§§§

Dame Gothel honoured her word, as all Enchantresses must. She introduced Rapunzel to the tree who fell in love with it at first sight. Being smaller than the trees surrounding the clearing made it less intimidating. Still, the attractive tree stood strong and healthy. Its clean, straight branches and perfectly sculpted roots pleased her. The little young forest nymph could feel the trees, know their thoughts and sense their moods. But never before had she felt absolute, selfless love from another living being. Not from tree, beast or red haired sorceress. She felt quite captivated by it. As soon as she approached the tree straightened its branches, fanning them in a ecstatic display of welcome even though the wind did not stir. Rapunzel climbed effortlessly into its low branches. She could scale it without thought or great effort for wherever she placed a foot or reached out a hand a branch would appear as if by magic. Never had climbing a tree felt this simple, Rapunzel thought gaily.

She felt so safe in this tree that she promptly fell asleep up there, the rustling, serrated fans of foliage singing her a beautiful lullaby. Dame Gothel smiled at the child and her transformed parent, and left them to be alone with each other. In this form Rowan posed no threat to her. She would permit him his happiness.

§§§

Eight years passed, eight glorious years for the pretty girl-child to grow up and become the Ebon Maiden of the Wood, a woman of great beauty. She knew no modesty, for she had never experienced shame. Clothing had no role in her life. Her nut-brown skin felt as soft as satin, yet protected her like tough, old bark. She could traverse a snowfield and not feel cold, or hold a glowing ember and remain untouched by the scorching heat. Besides, other than Dame Gothel – who also went around naked – she had never seen another human being. She did not know that people regarded their bodies as something to keep hidden from the sight of others.

The older she became the further afield she would roam, crisscrossing the Wood and actively protecting it from harm. When an acorn fell on a barren patch of stony ground she would pick it up and move it to a place where its roots could easily sink into the rich, dark earth. A fawn with a broken leg had it set and mended, healed by her dulcet voice and her spellsong. It licked her palm in appreciation before bounding away through the woods. Birds had twisted wings mended, wolves had chipped fangs rejuvenated so they could feed, and so on. No animal would harm her, and all the planets rejoiced in her presence.

One day after doing her rounds Rapunzel felt the longing to return to her favorite tree, the small rowan that stood alone in the clearing. It had been her favorite since Dame Gothel had introduced her to it all those years ago. No matter how many beautiful trees she encountered, this one held a special place in her heart. For a woman who had no roots, that tree marked home. She longed to return to it whenever she strayed, missing her Rowan more than her dam, Dame Gothel. Perhaps she would weave a crown from Rowan’s dense corymbs of creamy-white flowers. Would that not be fun? Anticipation put speed in her step, the nubile maiden running faster than the mountain cat did when pursuing the fleeing hare. 

She sprinted through the woods, leaving no spoor in the soft, mossy ground. The branches avoided raking her flesh as they whipped by her. Even the cantankerous brambles refused to snag her long black locks that flowed behind her like a river. So nimble and skilled was she that Rapunzel could surprise a pheasant in its bush or a lynx in its tree.

Or, on this particular occasion, a red-haired sorceress upon her knees while she suckled upon Rowan's Staff. 

She had never witnessed such an intriguing activity before. Rapunzel stood fast, staring openmouthed as the Dame took the end of that slender trunk in her gullet, working it in and out of herself with ferocious lunges. Her pale, bejewelled hands played over the silvery skin of the smooth-barked tree, massaging it with deft touches.

The feelings that stirred within her surprised Rapunzel. The space between her legs itched, feeling almost like it did when she had to pass water, but not quite. The tingling sensation came from elsewhere. She slipped her head down her taut belly and into the dark triangle between her legs, searching it for the source of the irritation. She found none, but did enjoy the feel of herself. She kept her hand in motion over her crotch while she watched the Dame at work.

Rapunzel stared at her for a long time, standing transfixed as the Dame worked upon the wooden staff. She no longer used her hands, only her mouth. She ran it over the sides of the pole, working it all over as her own hands played with the crimson berries that capped her creamy breasts. Sometimes, the Enchantress delved between her legs, rubbing herself with frantic strokes, her wrist bangles creating a cacophony that sent startled fowl to the skies.

Ah! Dame Gothel touched herself in the same way as she! Perhaps she could explain this feeling that had come over her. Suddenly feeling bold, Rapunzel stepped forward and approached the kneeling Dame.

So enraptured was she that Gothel did not hear Rapunzel's approach. Just like she often did with brush quail, Rapunzel reached out a cool brown hand and tweaked her target's tail. As the curious girl contacted the round, full ass of the kneeling Enchantress, Gothel squealed.

The sorceress leaped to her feet, turning upon Rapunzel with clawed hands, lightning crackling between them like it did when arcing from cloud to storm laden cloud. At the sight of Rapunzel's grinning face, Dame Gothel allowed the incandescent bolt to vanish.

"What do you here?" the naive girl asked. "It seems like a senseless task, yet you have been doing it for much of the day. Why?"

"How know you this, mischievous child?" A great flush infused Dame Gothel's cheeks, the red perfectly matching the colour of her engorged nipples. Rapunzel found her quite amusing to look upon and broke out in laughter.

"What is it, naughty girl?"

Rapunzel told the Dame everything, how funny she looked playing with the staff, and how much funnier she looked with her scarlet cheeks. For you see, until this moment Dame Gothel had never felt shame around the child. Thus Rapunzel had never witnessed this response before.

She is old enough to learn, Gothel thought to herself. What is the harm in explaining? After all, she will never see a man, not here in the Wood. "I am milking the tree of its sap, Dear Heart. Unlike the maple where you must tap deep, this rowan tree must have its sap worked out of it by using the mouth."

"Oh! Is its sap sweet like the maple's? Must one boil it before they eat it?"

"Much sweeter than the maple, I would say," Gothel said with a lecherous smirk, "and you need not boil it. Come. Let me show you how it's done." Rapunzel knelt in front of the Rowan Staff, assuming the same position the Dame had been in just moments earlier. Then she ran her tongue along the underside of the staff, from center to the tip. Immediately, thoughts emanated from the tree, thoughts that had been absent whilst the Dame had worked the tree. Rapunzel giggled.




Rapunzel Act 2



"What is it now, you wicked child?"

Rapunzel told the Enchantress about the feelings the tree had, the warmth and delight it now experienced. She could not translate into words the joy that coursed through her silvery brown tree, but she summed up by saying that the Rowan’s feelings made her wish to laugh.

Dame Gothel eyed the tree warily.

Rapunzel worked the staff hard, emulating Gothel's technique. She had watched the woman long enough at her task and knew what to do. She sucked and she licked, she massaged and she tweaked, she did all those things the older woman had done. As she did it, the itching of her crotch intensified. She forced the head of the staff into her mouth, holding it in place with one hand while the other stroked on her plump, firm berry nestled deep within her wild bush. The Dame's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Rapunzel! What is it you are doing?"

Rapunzel pulled her mouth off of the staff long enough to reply that her mound had started to itch while watching her, and stroking it made it feel better. She had spied Gothel doing the same, and surmised it to be the correct thing to do. Then she recapped the staff with her mouth, and continued her ministrations.

Gothel could say nothing. She could only watch openmouthed as Rapunzel frigged herself furiously while massaging Rowan's Staff with a nut-brown hand while she licked at its knobby head.

Suddenly Rapunzel moaned around Rowan's girth, eyes widening in surprise. Streams of pearlescent sap spurted out from around her mouth and suddenly bloated cheeks. She tore her head away from the staff, just in time for the niveous deluge to coat her face and breasts. Spurt after spurt of the clingy, scalding sap Rowan's Staff released, enough to thoroughly douse Rapunzel with it. The streams of the white liquid clung to her hair and ran down her cheeks and dark, shapely breasts. Rapunzel laughed, clapping her hands together like a child who had learned a new trick. Then she returned her lips to the tip of the staff and began sucking in the last bursts from it.

The flabbergasted Gothel could not believe the thing she had witnessed. How had she brought forth so much sap when the Dame herself could only elicit three measly drops all afternoon?

"It truly is sweet, but it is also salty. But I do like the taste." Rapunzel ran her hands over her face and breasts, collecting as much of the delicacy as she could and licking it off of her sticky palms and creme-covered fingers. "Oh yes, I do enjoy it very much! Why did you not speak of this seasons ago?"

The lewd sight had quite unhinged Gothel's brain. Rapunzel had always been a daughter to her, a friend and confidante. She had never seen the beautiful woman that the girl had grown into. But after that wanton display of lechery, Dame Gothel's mind opened to all of the delicious possibilities. "You were not old enough, dear child," the Enchantress said mysteriously. "Only after eighteen summers can you do such a thing."

"Is that so? I find that rule strange and foolish, but if that be the way things are, then that is the way they must be."

"Just so," the Dame agreed. "Rapunzel, come here and share some of that sap with me, would you?"

Rapunzel, ever the good child, did not delay in granting the sorceress' request. She approached the Dame and offered up her face, breasts and hands. Tentatively, the naked redhead drew the brown girl to her and placed her lips upon her forehead, kissing her gently. Gaining confidence, Gothel's long tongue swathed Rapunzel's face like a mother leopard preening her young's fur with her brush-like tongue. She licked at Rapunzel's face until it shone like fey-fire.

"Do you like its taste?" Rapunzel asked the older woman. "Have you had enough? If not there is more." Rapunzel pressed her breasts together, lifting them up so her surrogate mother could reach them easier. Rapunzel's slight, well proportioned charms had no sag or wrinkles. The flesh looked as nice as an apple at the peak of ripeness. No bruise or blemish marred her perfect skin. Her areolas were a darker shade of brown, deep mahogany splotches on their backgrounds of hazel. Her nipples, long dark nubbins of walnut, capped the firm mounds. The Dame's breath caught in her throat as Rapunzel freely offered up her charms.

"Are you certain, my child?"

"Of course. I am too tired right now to get more from Rowan, and I have had my fill for the nonce. Please, help yourself." She jiggled her breasts to punctuate the point. The Dame wasted no more time. She pressed her lips to the firm flesh, feeding upon them as she had the face earlier. Quite by accident, the Enchantress ran her pointy tongue over the tip of Rapunzel's nipple. The girl hissed, digging her toes into the spongy earth. Gothel released her as if she had just burst into flames.

"What is wrong, Rapunzel?" Gothel's whole form grew flushed, not only her cheeks. The rosy glow suffused her breasts, belly and ass.

"Nothing, Great Dame. Only, when your tongue brushed across my nipple just then, I felt a great stirring within me. Just like earlier, but more intense."

"Did that trouble you?"

"No. You surprised me, is all. Pray, continue."

Dame Gothel did not need much prompting to do what she already intended. She continued to work, carefully avoiding the nipples from this point onwards. When she finished cleaning the teats she kissed her daughter. Not as she had in the past, a chaste brushing of lips on the forehead. No, this time she claimed the child’s mouth. The Dame's tongue probed inside of Rapunzel's, lifting the startled girl's tongue well out of her mouth as it sucked it into her own. The sorceress' tongue played over her teeth and the insides of her mouth as if searching for something.

"My thanks to you for the sap, sweet child. I retrieved the last bit of it from your mouth. I think it tastes best when taken from there."

The explanation calmed Rapunzel’s anxieties. The move, totally unannounced, had startled her and had made her feel quite uncomfortable. But the reasoning behind her mouth’s violation made perfect sense. "In that case, the next time I tap Rowan for his sap I shall make sure I do not spill any, and you may take it from my mouth. How is that?"

"That would please me," Dame Gothel said. "Many thanks." The Enchantress turned away with the intention of returning to her little bungalow in the woods when Rapunzel shouted out a question.

"Gothel, why is it you get so little sap from Rowan and I so much?"

The sorceress ignored the question from her charge, instead turning upon her heel and making her way back home. The question disturbed her. Rapunzel’s skill had obviously surpassed her own. She would bear watching.