By The Sea
Laid out on the sands, lifeless, like her prince had been after she saved him from the wreckage of his ship, Ariel gasped and cried out as the cold, salty air burned inside her throat. Her lungs felt tight, impossible to fill. Every inhale was torture. Almost as painful as the blood boiling hot through her veins.
But neither compared to the agony she’d suffer when she used her new legs. The witch had warned her. Each step would feel like she was walking barefoot on blades. It sounded rather unpleasant.
He’s worth it. Ariel pushed up to her knees and ground her teeth as the first hint of pain shot through her. Those eyes, that hair…
Laughter rose up from the ocean and rolled around her, deep and powerful and more than a little frightening. Not her father, he never laughed when enraged.
Perhaps Poseidon?
“Neither, sweet child.” A massive wave crashed onto the beach and receded to reveal a man as big and strong as any of the gods she’d ever seen. Bronze curls framed his face, chiselled as the stone statues of heroes of old. “I am Theseus, and I am here to save you from yourself.”
A nervous giggle gurgled past Ariel’s lips. If her tongue had not been sacrificed to the witch, she would have told him that only one could save her. And she had to find him first.
Theseus knelt at her side. “No. At best that fool will break your heart. At worse he will be the death of you. I won’t have it.”
Ariel held up her hand and shook her head.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers as he spoke. “He loves the maiden he first set eyes on when he woke on these very shores. Not you, Ariel. He will never love you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head again. Her prince would never love another. He belonged to her.
“I have watched you for years, giving my heart to you a little more each day. It was yours when you pulled that boy from the sea and gave him back his life.” His hands trapped her face and his thumbs swept away her tears. “In all the lifetimes I’ve lived, I’ve never been drawn to a woman like I am to you. You’ve dreamed of finding a way to possess a soul in the way of those who walk the earth. I can give you that. I can love you, unconditionally.”
A frown creased her brow. She cocked her head, uncertain if he knew what he said. For a soul to be hers, her man must love her above all others.
“I do.” He bent down a lay the softest of kisses on her lips. “To prove it, I will give you my blood. The blood of the prince will return you to the sea. My blood will give you your voice, make these legs yours, for all eternity.”
Not for free, Ariel stared at him, wondering what he would give in exchange.
He smiled. “Only immortality, my love. It is nothing.”
With a dagger drawn from the sheath on his belt, he held it over his wrist and locked his eyes on hers.
“A trade, Ariel. I will give all I am, all I could be. But you must give yourself in return.”
Oh, how she wanted to say yes. A precious soul of her very own. He could give it to her.
But could she forget her prince so soon?
“I can make you forget him.” Theseus’ lips tilted as his hand slid down her throat, between her breast, and over her belly. “One night with me and when you are asked about the prince that tempted you away from the sea, your answer will be ‘What prince?’.”
That made Ariel smile. He certainly thought much of himself.
So she mouthed the words ‘One night’ and let him take her away.
Before the night was over, all thoughts of the prince were gone.
Hans and Gretel
Now wasn’t that a pretty picture. George Hans approached his wife’s sister-in-law with slow, heel to toe steps so his boots were soundless on the undergrowth of the forest. The tow headed woman kept her head down, looking over the side of the large flat stone where she perched. He touched her arm, grinning, sure she’d jump.
With a finger on her lips, she hushed him and pointed. A rabbit foraged for the clover growing beyond the shade of the rock.
“You ditched dinner to watch bunnies.” George laughed and the rabbit hopped away. “You’re incredible. How are you going to give Sarah grandbabies if you don’t take care of yourself?”
“Ugh.” Gretel climbed off the rock and made a face. “Don’t remind me. After hearing your wife go on about the joys of labour I think I’ll adopt.”
George smirked. Gretel was young, early twenties. Give her a few years and ‘the clock’ would start ticking.
“It can’t be that bad. Julie had four kids before she met me and still wants another.”
Her knowing look made him turn away from her sweet, young face. “That must be tough, raising for kids that aren’t yours.”
“Sometimes. Hurts to have them throw it in my face that I’m not their real dad.” He watched the leaves overhead dance in the gentle breeze. “But I love those kids.”
“Which is why you cancelled the divorce.”
“Can we talk about something else? I got enough of an interrogation from your husband.”
A small white hand with pink tipped nails touched his forearm. “I’m really sorry about that. Eric’s been out of sorts lately.”
“Mmhmm.” One brow lifted as George looked her over. She fiddled with her skirt, her jaw tense. “So when did you find out that he’s cheating on you?”
Gretel blinked, licked her lips, then shrugged. “A couple of weeks.”
“Gretel!”
Speak of the devil. George scowled in the direction of the call. Then grunted when Gretel shoved him off the path and into the woods.
“Gretel!”
Taking her lead, George crouched behind some craggily bushes and held his breath as Eric passed.
“What are you…” George’s lips smacked shut when Gretel took his hand and squeezed. He followed her through the woods, impressed with the precise steps she took to avoid leaving a trail.
“Sorry for grabbing you like that.” Sitting at the edge of a pond, Gretel removed her shoes and socks and dipped her toes in the water. She sighed contently and submerged her feet. “I knew he’d drag me back to Sarah’s cabin and I just want to enjoy the peace a little longer.”
“It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
Rather than answer, George sat beside her and took off his own shoes and socks. They relaxed in the peace of the forest, drinking in the fresh, green scent of nature.
Darkness fell as though a black shroud had been thrown over the sky. Flocks of birds flew from the braches overhead as thunder erupted. George and Gretel scampered to the shelter of the tree as the rain crashed down like a great wave from the heavens.
“We better get back.”
George nodded and cleaned the water from his face with a sleeve. The sheets of rain made it impossible to get his bearings.
“This way.” Gretel called, slipping out of sight.
The echo of her voice quickened his pulse. He didn’t know the area well, but he knew better than to wonder around the woods half blind. “Gretel, maybe we should…”
She screamed and he sprinted towards the sound.
He found her lying on the ground beside an embankment edged in stone. Her foot was caught in a large crevice. Her knee bent at an awkward angle.
“I got you.” He knelt at her side and eased her foot out of the gap. “We’ve got to find somewhere to wait out the downpour. I don’t suppose you can put any weight on that knee?”
Smiling around gritted teeth, she pushed away from him and tried to stand. “Sure I can…”
Just before she collapsed, he swooped her up into his arms. “What’s Eric doing with a tough girl like you? Just hold on to me, honey. I’ll find us somewhere safe and dry.”
Through the wind and the rain he spotted a light, flickering in the darkness but a beacon to fulfilling his promise. He carried her towards it and laughed. He wasn’t a religious man, but obviously someone was looking out for them.
A cosy little hut with smoke spiralling out of the chimney in defiance of the rain. Curtains rustled in one round window and soon the door swung open. A plump, pleasant looking old woman ushered him in.
“Come out of the rain, my dears.” She shut the door behind him and clasped her hands to her chest. “Poor things. Are you lost? Let me put on some tea. There’s some blanket in the cupboard, tend to the pretty girl before she catches her death.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” George set Gretel on the sofa in the homey living room and hurried to fetch the blankets. “If you have a phone I’ll call someone to come get us and we’ll be out of your hair.”
Giggling in a way that didn’t seem to match her ancient form, the woman stepped up behind him and took his hand. “I don’t have a phone. But you’re welcome to stay for the night.”
George gapped at her when she opened his hand and brought his fingers to her mouth. Her gums grazed his knuckles.
“You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” She laughed and twirled away from him, disappearing into the kitchen.
He scrubbed his hand on his jeans. “Freak.” He knelt beside Gretel and tucked the blankets around her, rubbing her arms when she shivered. “How you doing, Gretel?”
“Okay.” Her teeth chattered and she shifted closer to him when he wrapped her in his arms. “But my knee…”
“I’ll see if the old lady’s got some Tylenol, and maybe something to bind you knee until we can get you to the hospital.”
The old woman appeared beside him and both he and Gretel jumped. She held out a tray. “Cookies?”
The gingerbread cookies smelled good, sweet and spicy and fresh from the oven. But he shook his head. He needed to take care of Gretel. “She’s in pain. Do you have some…”
With a clang the cookie hit the coffee table and the old woman whipped out a wicked looking knife. She stuck it under his chin. “Have a cookie or I’ll slice you up now while your girlfriend watches. I really don’t need you both.”
George swallowed carefully as the blade nicked him. “Need us both for what?”
Her lips stretched away from her gums as she smiled and cupped his crotch. “It’s been a long time since I’ve have something good to eat.”
* * *
A cold wash of pain spilled up from Gretel’s knee and sloshed into her gut as she threw her legs over the side of the sofa. She grabbed a cookie.
“We’ll eat the cookies!” She bit the head off a gingerbread man, then pushed up on the arm of the sofa to feed a leg to George. His lips were cold when they brushed her fingers, but his eyes were dark and narrow.
“Move the knife, old woman.” He licked a crumb from his bottom lip and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Insane laughter erupted from the crone. “Hurt me?”
She picked up the tray from the table without shifting the knife. Then she swung it.
The tray hit Gretel’s damaged knee. A shock of pain. Gretel fell to the floor in a heap. She panted as pulsing red filled her vision. She heard a gurgling sound as George collapsed beside her.
“Stop! Please stop!” Gretel blinked away her tears so she could see and reached for the old woman. “We’ll do whatever you want!”
Blood spilled over George’s lip and formed a puddle on the raw wood floor. Too much white was showing in his eyes. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him breathing.
“Anything?” The old woman took a seat on the sofa and smoothed the skirt of her frilly apron over her bony knees. “Think before you speak, girl.”
Gretel didn’t need to think. She wouldn’t let George die. “Anything. Now please help him!”
With a calm that threatened to drive Gretel mad, the crone undid the ties of her apron, folded it lengthwise, and laid it over George’s neck. She gestured towards him as Gretel heaved herself up into a sitting position.
“Bind his wounds and come here.”
His blood was sticky, slippery. Acrid bile rose up in her throat and Gretel swallowed spastically as she tied the makeshift bandage, tight enough to slow the bleeding, but not tight enough to strangle him.
But he still wasn’t breathing right.
“He needs a doctor.” Gretel crawled to the sofa and fisted her hands into the cushion by the crone. “Let him go. I’ll stay.”
“I said come here.” The old woman pointed at the sofa.
Consciousness wavered when Gretel scrambled up onto the sofa. The room tipped sideways. Her brain seemed to rock inside her skull.
Fingers dug into her arms. “Pull yourself together, girl. If you can’t do this, he doesn’t have a chance.” The fingers left her arm and gripped her chin. “Now kiss me.”
“What?” Gretel tried to free herself, but the crone held her still. “Why?”
“I want him, and you. But as you can see, the years haven’t been kind. I’ve been without youth to share for decades. But you have it to spare.” A pruned fingertip brushed over Gretel’s lips. “A kiss and I will be young, beautiful. I will have the power to heal him.”
“Fine. I’ll do it.” George had stopped moving, they didn’t have time for the woman’s crazy stories. If a kiss would get her to back off so Gretel could help him, she’d damn well give her one.
The old woman laughed. “Don’t you want to know what will happen to you?”
“I don’t care.” Blindly, Gretel lifted her hands and touched the crone’s cheeks. She blinked fast and the fuzziness faded. Horrible time for it. She didn’t need to see those translucent lips stretched away from shiny gums.
“What are you waiting for?”
Gretel took a deep breath and leaned towards the old woman. The dry lips pressed against her soft ones.
And seemed to melt her flesh. Gretel opened her mouth to scream. Firm hands clamped around her head and held her in place. The kiss deepened and Gretel frowned. The crone’s touch wasn’t quite so repulsive anymore.
Smooth as fabric wound from the finest thread, warm and sweet as the cookies on the table, the crone’s lips moved against hers with the tenderness of a patient lover. Her grip loosened and her hands slid over Gretel’s hair, over her shoulders, then down her arms.
“Touch me, Gretel. See how I’ve changed.”
So Gretel touched her. She felt the soft skin, the sturdy bones, the vibrant pulse. She opened her eyes and fell into a glimmering blue so rich it stole her breath. Waves of golden hair spilled around the maiden that sat in the old woman’s place.
The maiden’s rosy lips curved. “I think it’s time to help our young man.”
Too lost and confused to do more than nod, Gretel watched the young woman lower gracefully to George’s side. She pulled away the bandage and bent over his throat. Her little tongue darted out, sweeping across the wound, healing where it passed.
George gasped in a breath and groaned. His hands clenched to fist by his hips. The maiden grabbed his wrists before he could take a swing.
“Who are you?” His head tossed from side to side. “Gretel!”
“I’m right here, George.” Gretel slipped off the sofa and touched his cheek. “We’re both fine.”
Squinting, then blinking, George stared at her and shook his head. “Gretel, what has she done to you?”
* * *
There Was An Old Woman
A little old to be spanked, but he was one of her orphans. And he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
They called her old mother Hubbard, but Caroline wasn’t even forty yet. Hardly old enough to be a mother at all. Her wards heartily agreed, which explained the lip she’d gotten from the eldest lately. Not one child was of her own blood, but she loved them all as though they were. Enough to take a firm hand to them when they were naughty.
Henry had been the best behaved since she became his step-mother two years earlier. Now, eighteen for but a day, he thought he was man enough to face her.
After such a long day, she could only stare when he barged in.
“I’ve got a deer for you, miss.” He grinned when she scowled over her teacup. “Surely you can’t find fault in me being a little late.”
He dropped the deer on the table and puffed out his chest. Quite a prize, she must admit. But the rules stood. What would the others do if she let them slack?
“Two hours past curfew, Henry.” She pushed away from the table and grabbed the switch she kept close at hand. “You know the penalty.”
“I do, miss.” He hands dropped to the drawsting of his pants. “A lash for each minute past. So I’ll have fifteen now.”
He dropped his drawers and leaned over her table.
She hit his upper thighs, more out of shock than anything else. Only now did she realize there was but a score of years between them.
“Harder, mistress. There’s no need to be gentle, I can take it.”
She hit him harder and harder, wanting to punish him for the ache that rose within. His tight ass jerked with every strike. She gasped as she brought the last one down.
“You naughty boy. Go to bed.”
He turned and grabbed her wrists.
“Only if you come with me.”
Return To Wonderland
Bent silverware littered the table in such a way, it looked like a cannon full of tinsel had exploded. Broken teacups were set around the table waiting for the guests that would never come. Stains marred the tablecloth in an odd pattern that was almost charming. And the tea had the oddest scent of molasses and burnt toast.
Complete disarray, hardly sanitary, definitely not a place for a proper young lady.
And it was Alice’s favourite place to be.
“You’re late.” The Mad Hatter plopped his feet on the table and slouched on his red velvet throne chair at the end of the table. “It’s very rude to be late for tea.”
Laughter burst out before Alice could stop it. “Oh no, Mr. Hatter. I wanted to surprise you. A surprise can never be late.”
“Indeed.” Tipping his top hat off his brow, he leaned forward and his bright green eyes widened. “And what’s this? You had the gall to grow? Nibbling cake before tea, where are your manners, Alice?”
A sharp stab of sadness stole the smile from her lips. “Not cake, Mr. Hatter, it’s been five years since I saw you last. I am a young woman now.’
Sweeping his arm across the table, the Mad Hatter snarled. He hopped off his chair and stalked towards her.
“Five years? You naughty girl.” His chin hiked up and he pointed at the table. “Britches down, fanny up. You’ve earned a spanking.”
Her eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind her blond bangs. “Spank me? But Mr. Hatter…”
“Just Hatter, Alice.” His lips curled as he set one hand on his hip. “Five swats and we shall have our tea.” His tone turned husky. “Unless I am tempted to give you a reason not to leave again.”
Alice rolled her eyes. Of all the ridiculous things to say.
“I hardly think a spanking will make me want to stay for tea, Hatter.” She wet her lips with her tongue when he smirked. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Dabbing his finger in a spoonful of sticky, fluffy cream, Hatter tasted it with the tip of his tongue and slipped up to her side. He held his finger to her lips. Her mouth opened to accept the dollop of meringue. She couldn’t seem to stop herself. Hatter was acting stranger than ever before.
But that confused her much less than her reactions to him. She quite liked having him so close.
The rapid pitter patter of her heart sped up when he dragged his finger out of her mouth and leaned forward to lick a drop of cream off her chin.
Then he chuckled and kissed her nose. “You don’t know? Well, perhaps you are too innocent for me to show you.” He spun away and danced back to his chair. “Would you like one lump or two?”
