Fifty Shades of Jezebel and the Beanstalk (The Fifty Shades Of Alice Trilogy Book 4)

by Melinda DuChamp

  "Does anyone live here with Pan?"

  "Just his servants."

  "Maybe I could be a servant. I like it here."

  Jack threw his head back and laughed, his dark, wavy ringlets fell away from his forehead. "You'll never be one of Pan's servants."

  "Why not?" Jezzy prickled, feeling suddenly blustery.

  "Because you're too extraordinary. He likes you front and center. In the limelight. Not scurrying quietly about, trying not to be seen. That will never be you."

  Jezzy considered this as she watched Jack pick up a pineapple chunk from a fruit plate.

  "Do you find adequate sex partners at every one of Pan's parties? Partners who satisfy you?"

  "I'm satisfied by satisfying my partners. But I can't come."

  Jezzy was stunned. "You don't come? You don't want to have an orgasm?"

  "I'd love to be able to orgasm. However, a terrible, wicked witch named Lucinda put a curse on me. I can get an erection, but I cannot orgasm. I can't feel any pleasure at all down there."

  "Oh, no!" Jezzy whispered, mortified. Her heart went out to Jack. "That must be horrible. Whatever did you do to deserve such a punishment?"

  "I made love to her daughters." Jack grinned. "All three of them. They were triplets. Absolutely adorable. I simply had to have them."

  Jezzy giggled. Her head buzzing pleasantly. Then she frowned. "Still, that's quite a curse for what seems to be a very minor infraction. The witch was that protective of her girls?"

  "No. She was that jealous." He smiled at her, his skin taking on a reddish hue. "I was supposed to take her on a date. When I arrived at her house, she wasn't home. But her daughters were, and when she finally arrived it got ugly."

  "I'm sorry about that, Jack."

  "It's my burden." He shrugged. "At least I can still get it up. But enough about me. How about you? You seem to be enjoying your stay in Phlegm."

  "I am. I've had a very good time, and I've also learned a lot."

  "About what?"

  "About affection, and appreciation, and trust. I'm also discovering, while I'm here, that I'm rather selfish. I've been on so many terrible dates, but part of the blame is mine. No one can please me. It's a terrible affliction." She made her expression as serious as possible. "I don't know if I can be fixed."

  "I don't know if I can fix you, Jezebel, but I know that I could please you."

  "You are pleasing me right now," Jezzy said, leaning forward. "Maybe I could please you. Maybe, if the right woman were to come along…"

  Jack looked suddenly sad. "No, my sweet. It's nothing to do with you. You're beautiful and sexy in every way. But this curse, it's unbreakable."

  Jezzy frowned. "Nothing is unbreakable. There must be a way."

  "If there is a way, I haven't yet found it," Jack said. "I've fucked for days straight. I've tried every position, every type of sex. Pills, potions, toys. I can stay hard as a rock, but I don't feel anything. No one can help me, I'm afraid."

  "Did you apologize to the witch?"

  "Of course. Candy. Flowers. Greeting cards. I even wrote her a poem."

  "Really?" Jezebel loved poetry. "Can I hear it?"

  Jack cleared his throat, then recited:

  "I'm really, very sorry.

  Let's have sex tomorry."

  Jezzy frowned. "I can see why that didn't work."

  "Actually it did. We made love the next day for fifteen straight hours. But she still didn't lift the curse."

  "You sure she's a witch?" Jezzy asked. "Sounds more like a bitch."

  "I suggested she go to counseling. That probably didn't help matters."

  "No, probably not."

  "So I wrote her another poem."

  Jezzy opened her mouth to stop him, but he was already reciting.

  "You're really hot, Lucinda,

  I spy on you through the winda."

  "Just … no."

  He heaved a great sigh. Even his erection might have drooped a millimeter or so. "She's never going to lift this curse, and I'm afraid there isn't anything anyone can do about it."

  Jezzy narrowed her eyes. One thing she couldn't bear was to be told she couldn't do something.

  "May I at least try?"

  "It will just frustrate us both. But I'd be happy to make love to you. I'd enjoy that, even if I have no feeling down there. I really do enjoy making women come."

  Jezebel almost agreed, but the thought of her having multiple orgasms and Jack feeling nothing at all seemed incredibly selfish. Instead, she lowered her head and took his erect member into her mouth.

  She sucked.

  She licked.

  She stroked.

  He stood there, stoic, not making a sound. Jezebel realized it was very frustrating to be trying your best and getting no reaction.

  Jack patted her head. "Don't blame yourself, Jezebel. I can tell you're very good. But the curse…"

  She'd never seen an erect man so sad before.

  "I, my dear friend Jack, will find a way to break this curse. This, I pledge to you," she said, buoyed by her resolve. "Now tell me where I can find this witch."

  Jezebel Begins Her Quest

  After bidding goodbye to Pan and her new friends (and promising she'd return as soon as she could), Jezebel left the castle and headed west for the much-feared Ghastlibad Forest.

  "Is it called Ghastlibad because it is both ghastly and bad?" Jezzy had asked him.

  "No. It was named after an ogre," Jack had said. "Artemis Forest."

  Ghastlibad Forest turned out to be rather pleasant, with plenty of colorful trees all shaped like large cocks, and beds of small, bulbous mushrooms shaped like small cocks, and curved bushes shaped like Wilfred Brimley's mustache.

  There were also other bushes, shaped like cocks.

  Jack had wanted to go with her, but Jezzy had insisted on going alone. She didn't want any help, because she wanted this to be a fully unselfish act. Jezebel was going to break Jack's curse, no matter how many orgasms she had to have to do so.

  Eventually she came upon a lovely stone bridge spanning a creek, and as she began to cross she heard the most beautiful singing voice. A tenor, lifting high above the trees. It was a song of happiness and of loss, of the celebration of the rising sun and of sorrow when it set, of the yearning in the hearts of those who dare, and the pity for those who never try. All sung to the tune of Ram It Up by the thrash metal band Stormtroopers of Death.

  Jezzy stood on the bridge, and when the song ended she applauded politely, even though she had no idea who or where the singer was. In this magic kingdom it could have been the trees singing, or some strange invisible creature, or even the bridge itself.

  "Who is applauding?" the voice said.

  "My name is Jezebel. Where are you?"

  "I'm under the bridge."

  Jezzy leaned over the side, looking to the ravine below. "What are you doing under there?"

  "I'm talking to you. Duh."

  "I mean why are you under the bridge at all? Are you a troll?"

  "Why would you say something mean like that?"

  "I'm sorry… I'm new to this land, and from where I come from, I've heard stories about trolls who live under bridges."

  "That's a prejudiced stereotype. There are all manner of creatures who live under bridges."

  "Which manner of creature are you?"

  "I'm a troll."

  Jezebel frowned. "So you start flame wars on website forums to cause trouble?"

  "That's an Internet troll. I'm a real troll. With warts and boils and covered with patches of hair. That's why I live under the bridge. I'm far too hideous to lay eyes on, so I hide here. My name is Eden."

  "I've heard that trolls eat maidens. Is that true, Eden?"

  "That's another stereotype. It's bad enough being ugly and having to live under a bridge, but when people continue to perpetrate bigotry like that, it hurts."

  Jezebel felt her heart break. "I'm so sorry, Eden."

  "Ever since I was turned into a
troll by the wicked witch, Lucinda, I've been so very lonely."

  "You were cursed by Lucinda, too? I'm looking for her."

  "Why? She's most disagreeable."

  "She cursed a friend of mine."

  "She curses a lot of people. She is a witch, after all."

  "Why did she turn you into a troll, Eden?"

  "Because I wouldn't bed her. And now I'm condemned to live under this bridge until some fair maiden makes love to me."

  It had been several pages since Jezebel had been in a sex scene, plus she was working on being less selfish, so she boldly stated, "I'll make love to you, Eden."

  She heard the troll sigh. "You aren't the first maiden to say that. But they can never go through with it. I'm too terrible-looking."

  "I can close my eyes. Or use a blindfold." Jezzy had enjoyed the blindfold at Pan's castle.

  "That won't work. For the curse to be lifted, the woman has to respect me. That means keeping her eyes open, and not sleeping with me out of pity."

  Jezebel had pity sex in the past. More times than she'd publicly admit. Bad blind dates that ended up with a sympathy blowjob. Unattractive men who had crushes on her in college. A beer too many at a party which led to quick and unfeeling sex in the coat room. Jezzy hadn't respected any of those men. And afterward, she hadn't respected herself. It hadn't been the noble self-sacrifice she'd hoped it to be, and while her partners had gotten off, Jezebel didn't feel they'd respected her, either. They'd gotten what they wanted and didn't care that she'd gone unsatisfied.

  "Maybe if we get to know each other for a bit," Jezebel said. "We can learn how to respect each other. I really enjoyed your singing."

  "So did other maidens. But my signing isn't enough. Once they see me, they no longer find me worthy. If I have no dignity, how can I expect anyone to respect me? Which is why I eat women."

  Jezzy gasped. "You do eat women!"

  "Sometimes, for hours," Eden said.

  "That's atrocious!"

  "I'll lick and suck and nibble on them, and I can even make some of them come. But they still don't respect me."

  Jezzy blew out a breath. "So that's what you mean. I thought you meant really eat, like a snack."

  Eden laughed, and it was musical. "That's ridiculous! And disgusting!"

  "I'm so pleased to hear that."

  "Everyone knows that trolls eat live goats."

  Jezebel made a face.

  "Kidding!" Eden quickly said. "Mostly we eat porridge. I have a pot of porridge, if you're hungry. It's nine days old, but some like it that way."

  "Thank you, but I just ate. I think you should come out, so I can see you."

  "I'd rather not."

  "If you want me to respect you, you have to respect yourself, Eden. Be confident. Women love confidence."

  "It's difficult to be confident when you look like a toad covered in dried vomit."

  "Talk like that isn't making me want to sleep with you."

  Another heavy sigh. "Very well, then."

  Jezebel looked to the other side of the bridge, and a lumbering figure scaled the bank and stood before her.

  Ugh. He did look like a toad covered in dried vomit. Boils and scabs and warts and other assorted bumps were everywhere, and he had more hair sprouting from his ears than most men had on their entire head.

  But Jezebel was determined to see past that. Beauty was more than skin deep. If this was going to be more than just pity sex, she needed to respect Eden. That meant finding something about him she admired, rather than pitied.

  "Wow," he said. "You're so beautiful, Jezebel. May I eat you?"

  Jezebel almost winced, but held it in. The idea of that ugly face between her legs didn't turn her on one bit.

  "Not right now, thank you," she said. His sad face became sadder. "But there is something I would like, if you don't mind."

  "Of course, maiden Jezebel." He performed a theatrical bow. "I'm at your service."

  "Can you sing me another song? You have such a beautiful voice."

  "Certainly. I can sing about you if you'd like."

  "About me?"

  "Sure. I got mad freestyling skills."

  Eden began to sing, a cross between the forlorn poetry of Jim Morrison and the electric intensity of Meatloaf. He sang of Jezzy's kindness, and selflessness, and beauty, and it hit her like an axe to her heart. For the first time ever, she understood why girls swooned over boy bands, and why groupies banged rock stars. It was such an intimate, intense, and arousing experience to be serenaded, that midway into the song, Jezebel got down on her knees and reached for Eden's pants, undoing the rope he used as a belt, pushing his tattered pants down to his ankles.

  Happily, his cock wasn't covered with boils or warts like the rest of him was. In fact, it was quite nice. Long and heavy, it had a fat glans that she really wanted to swirl her tongue over.

  Patience.

  Jezzy started with her fingertips, skimming up the insides of his legs, from knee to thigh to hip.

  Goosebumps broke out over his skin. He flexed, growing a little fatter, a little longer.

  His voice changed, growing deeper and picking up an Isaac Hayes vibe.

  Heat kindled between Jezzy's legs. Extending two fingers, she swiped the bottom of his sack, then up his underside, lifting his shaft, bringing her face close. His skin was velvety smooth to the touch, and before she reached the head, she curled her fingers around him, his thickness growing and pulsing with life.

  "And now she's got her hand on my cock," he sang, voice deep and soulful, "and has made me hard as a rock."

  When she reached his ridge, she stopped, then let each finger fall on the underside as if she was playing a piano. Tat-tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat-tat. Soft and slow, in time with his singing.

  He kept growing, kept hardening under her touch. As ugly as the rest of his body might be, his erection was beautiful. Strong. Thick. Responsive. And pointing straight up to the sky.

  "Oh, my," Jezebel cooed, her exclamations sounding like the stylings of a backup singer.

  She brought her face closer. For a troll who lived under a bridge, he smelled quite nice. Earthy and musky. But with a touch of something else. She breathed deeply.

  "It's Axe body spray for trolls," he said, reading her mind. "Woodland Sexventure. I like it more than Funky Swampass."

  "Keep singing."

  "She's a dirty little whore," he continued, "who makes me beg for more."

  Jezebel loved being sung to, but even more than that, she got really turned on when men talked dirty to her. It was somewhat shameful and embarrassing, but maybe that was part of the allure. Being called a slut and a naughty girl, and told in explicit detail how hot they thought she was and what they wanted to do to her, could really get Jezzy off when she was in the mood for it.

  And she was definitely in the mood.

  Jezzy grasped him at the root and stroked all the way to his tip. Then she licked her hand and stroked him, making his shaft slick, friction warming it up by several degrees as she pumped up and down.

  "Sing dirty to me," she said.

  He complied. He sang he wanted to lick her slit, suck her clit.

  That she was a filthy skank, giving his cock a yank.

  That she knows how to lick it, and he knew where to stick it.

  That she needed to be fucked fast and hard, from behind.

  That line didn't rhyme, but it was still a turn-on.

  Jezebel stroked him faster, and then she gasped. Her whole body had begun to vibrate. The magic golden eggs still inside her apparently could sense she was heating up, and they began to buzz.

  She ran her tongue along his length, just the tip, flicking and teasing, wanting to be the dirty girl he sang about, wanting to make him come all over her face and tits. She put her lips on his head, lightly raking her teeth across his foreskin.

  "Please oh please oh please suck it…" he crooned.

  Jezebel opened her mouth and took him inside, loving the feeling of his manhood,
loving how his singing suddenly went up an octave, wanting to suck him deep into her throat.

  Eden sang that her mouth was liquid silk, that he was ready to blow his load, that she was such a good little cocksucker.

  Then she withdrew, her lips moving against the head of his erection, nibbling, slipping in a little swipe of her tongue.

  "Beg for more." She blew lightly over him, taking tiny licks at the little slit in its center. He tasted salty, a hint of what was to come.

  "Please. I'm begging you. You're a goddess. You make me feel so good. I'm going to spurt. You're going to make me spurt."

  When he’d groveled enough, and she was so hot she couldn’t bear to tease him any longer, she slipped him inside her mouth and took him deep into her throat. Then, his length glistening, she fitted him between her breasts, cupping them close, capturing his cock between her two surging mounds.

  Rising on her knees, she stroked upwards, the feathers of her party dress skimming against his sensitive skin. Her nipples tingled, hardening to points, and rasped against his rough belly, the sensation deliciously painful and pleasurable at the same time. His tip sank between her tits, then she moved down his length, and broke from her flesh, surging free.

  All this sinking and surging was really getting Jezzy hot. Not only was she wet (really, when was she not wet in this story?) she was empty and aching and she didn’t know why.

  Actually, she did.

  "Do you want me to sit on your face?"

  "Yes, please, oh god…"

  She looked up at him, his troll features contorted in ecstasy, and Jezzy didn't find him hideous at all.

  She found him dirty. A filthy man whore. An uncontrollable animal. The realization that she was about to get eaten out by a dirty, filthy troll was so hot that she practically came just thinking about it.

  Suddenly she was being lifted up, her legs spread over the troll's wicked face.

  She bent forward in a sixty-nine, her lips devouring his hard length. She moved her mouth up and down Eden's rod, using her tongue to torture him with long, luxurious licks. Then she tugged on his balls with one hand, while gripping his shaft with the other. She moved her lips up and down over the head of his cock, sucking and licking, his cries urging her on.