Aesops Grimm Look at Mother's Enchanted Forest

"For that... I am grateful," His hand rested upon hers, and again he saw that difference in size. Small and petite against his large massive hand, it threatened her just by the single touch. They were so different, it was hard to see any similiarities.

"That's the great thing about a nice guy, red... they don't care about things like the past or mistakes. If you settle down with a guy, with a nice guy, and tell him yours his, he'll believe you, and want you all the more. You can have one of the nice guys, believe me, you can."

He kissed at her hand, soft and tender was his kiss, letting it rest back where she was touching him so softly, so kindly.

"I think you should do it. I think you should do what your heart wants. You've been this bad girl for soo long, playing everyone else's fantasies, but who gets to play yours? At the end of the day who is in your bed, lying, waiting to fulfill all of your needs?"
 
What's with all the th-th-humping?

Gladiola sighed and spun around to face the anal retentive lagomorph as he thrust his clipboard toward her. Even with Harvey standing at full height, she had to point to her eyes and remind him: "Up, up, UP!"

"Maybe," he retorted, unabashed and quite proud of himself, "Maybe there were peas after all. They just weren't supplied by me."

Gladiola thwapped him on the nose, growling. "How many times have I got to tell you... NO bewbie jokes!"

"Oh. Is that what those are?" Mervin grinned, chiming in. "I thought we were discussing... "

"ENOUGH!" Now it was Gladiola's turn to thump, and her foot was going a mile a minute. Lupus and Lepus both leapt back. There was no telling how far she'd gotten in Acme's Wicked Witches, Wizards and Warlocks correspondence course and neither of them were willing to take chances.

Crossing her arms across her... well, her... chest... the mildly wicked witch surveyed the empty hall and returned her attention to the cony caterer and the canine conniver. "Do you see?" she exclaimed, excitedly. "Do you see what you've done?"

Met with chagrined shrugs and vacuous visages, it was overtly obvious that neither of them realized that she had begun to think alliteratively. Gladiola clamped a clammy hand over her mouth; mortified and decidedly determined not to let any of it slip surreptitiously out.

Thump! Thumpety-thump! THUMP!!

Trembling, the trio turned in tandem to see who was knocking noisily -- or at least locate where in the hall the hammering hooligan was hiding.
 
Ill used the snout of Harv, the rabbit swayed, perplexed by biff to beak he frowned, "look here, you should not strike a fellow so," he said, most uncouth, a reprobate in green - but! His gaze fell to the mildly wicked feet. Said nose, so soon a cause of his complaint now twitched, nostrils aflare as he, beguiled, saw her dance a tattoo strong and strange as he.

His eyes turned moist as he: forsooth! he saw she had some rabbit in her, why it could have been a paw that on the floor of the meeting hall did beat out sweet songs that plucked the heart strings in his furry chest.

It was with strain he heard Thump! Thumpety, thump! THUMP!! Who was this interloper - Dash! The fellow had best have good cause to call.
 
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You CAN go home again... though sometimes you shouldn't.

Her divorce finalized and her fling with Chandler Bing (and friends) over, Jessica found herself at sixes and sevens and that wasn't nearly big enough to suit her tastes or her rabrit fetish. It wasn't that Roger hadn't pleased her (he was and did hump like a bunny, after all) but there had only been one other who had completely filled the deep, dark recesses of her...

"We're here, Miss."

Aroused from her reveries (in more ways than one), Jessica peered out the window of the coach she'd borrowed from Cindy and sighed, waiting for the ferret-faced driver to open the door. She was home.

"Jessica!" exclaimed Flopsy.

"Jessica!!" chimed in Mopsy, who'd never had an original thought in her entire life.

There was no sign of Cottontail. He'd become persona non grata at the warren after he wished for those red wings as a teen. As rumor had it (and it often did), he was hanging out with those baddies from the Forest now. Jessica couldn't help wondering how he was getting along with old man MacGregor; she'd had to boink him more than once to get those three dumb bunnies out of a jam.

Speaking of bunnies... She'd have to look HIM up after she got settled.

"Hello, Flopsy! Hiya, Mopsy!" Jess schmoozed, giving them air kisses on their cheeks. Normally she liked the way whiskers erm... tickled, but she really wasn't into girls.

An hour and three cups of tea later, Jessica was dying for something a little... stiffer. Hiding her yawns behind her carefully manicured, crimson-enamelled fingernails, she listened dutifully as her twitterpated sisters told her about Rapunzel and Charming and Snowy and well just about everyone else that was... boring. She was practically asleep when they finally mentioned rumors of a meeting of the FFTVA that was taking place at the Village Hall.

"Oooooh," she wiggled. "Tell me more!"

Flopsy and Mopsy looked at each other then back at Jess who had stood up and was smoothing her hands over her dress, though they couldn't imagine why. It fit her like a second skin and was hardly likely to wrinkle for several more years. "You really don't want to go there," Flopsy advised.

"The BBW and that mildly wicked Gladiola are sure to be there," Mopsy clarified.

"And we heard... " Flopsy leaned in close to whisper. "Harvey has taken up with them, too."

If she had a second thought about going before, it dissolved rapidly in a large puff of steam. Harvey was exactly the Rabrit she wanted most to see! How... serendipitous.

Not one to walk anywhere, she dug in her clutch and dialed the number of a friend. "Hello, Toady? It's me, Jess. I wonder if you would mind giving me a lift into town."

In two shakes of her rump and images of bunny tails floating in her head, Jess was at the Village Hall and ready to make her grand entrance.
 
and introducing:

Mervin turned around at the loud thumping noise, panicking as he looked around the now empty hall. With a sigh of relief he sidles up to Gladiola and out of the corner of his mouth says to her:

"ad-Glay, e-thay oodie-gay ipes-tay are-ay on-gay.... an-cay e-way ing-bray e-thay een-quay out-ay of-ay e-thay oset-clay ow-nay?

Gladiola rolls her eyes and swats Mervin on the shoulder before replying: "Everyone's gone Woofie, no need to talk like that now you fur ball. I told you, you only had to talk in code when others are around and you need to tell me something. I guess that means you know what that thumping is?"

Mervin allowed his grin to settle on his face for maximum effect. They don't call that look wolfish for nothing. "Oh I may have more of an idea than you know Gladrags!" He rocked back and forth on his heels.

Torn between the chance to further discomfort the rabbit and her vexation at the cockiness of the wolf, Gladiola reached the decision to play along. "Okay Woofie, I'll bite. What's in the closet?

Not wanting to give up the enjoyment of knowing something the witch didn't, but bursting with a desire to show off, Mervin swaggered over to the closet with the dramatic flair associated with an artist's unveiling of a masterpiece. He turned and spoke to the witch and the bunny: "You know how you are always saying that we need someone to lead this group in its mischief... May I present someone I invited to make an appearance at our little get together tonight? I guess with the mix up over the location, He had to settle for remaining in the closet until it was time to come out."

"Gladrags, may I present to you our new mastermind, someone capable of seeing the big picture..." Mervin reached for the doorknob and opened the closet.

Emerging from a tangle of brooms, buckets, mops and other assorted janitorial supplies was, well... not quite a vision, but definitely a sight that one won't forget. In fact some have been known to find a handy sharp implement and attempt to scrape the sight from their own eyes.

Enwrapped in several yards of sequined material, dazzlingly brilliant in the light reflected off of rings, necklaces and a tiara emerged the honored guest to the meeting. The dress may have looked divine had it been of normal size or even for a woman, but the elegant frock was only the most obvious component of the outrageous ensemble adorning the 6'7" man, straightening up as he came out of the closet.

Straightening his tiara, and gaining his balance on his heels, he offered his ringed fingers to Gladiola.

Mervin completed the introduction: "My friends this is our new cohort in our evil designs, May I present His Majesty, Leonard, the Evil Queen."

"One is happy to find others interested in perfecting the art of mischievous and malicious maneuvers. One gets so tired of castle life. Always the courtiers attempting to gain favor by commenting on the fun they had during one of my parties," Leonard sighed. "No sense of intrigue or style anymore."

"One became interested upon discovery of the criminal element in One's forest. One is grateful that our lupine friend here attempted to sell One a wardrobe composed of light and airy, see-through garments."

At this latest comment, Mervin nervously swallowed and looked at the floor. He was thankful that his fur covered what would have been crimson ears over his embarrassment over getting caught in one of his schemes.

Leonard continued: "When One pointed out that One was suspicious of the reality challenged garments, Mr. Wolf came clean and admitted he was trying to find a new challenge for his talents. Apparently dim witted farmer's sons are not much fun to fool."

"So after some persuasion, Mr. Wolf advised One of these little get togethers of yours Miss Witch." One was intrigued that One could perhaps enjoy the diversion provided by your friends. Although One was led to believe that the group held greater numbers than you three."

Leonard glared at the Wolf. "One practically expected an evil army to attend to me, instead what One encounters is nothing more than A Liar, A Witch, and a Rodent."
 
Mr Toad enjoyed driving. The open road, the wind against his goggles, what more could an amphibian desire? This meant he was more than happy to help out his curvacious old friend, Jessica.

BEEP BEEP! He sounded the horn as the red Bugatti careered down the country lane causing his normally unflappable passenger to squeak, "slow down, you frog impersonator, I want to get there in one piece!"

Mr Toad duly slowed by 5 mph and adjusted his cap.

Shortly after he drove up in front of the hall where the FFTVA meeting was going on and jumped out, opening the rear door of the automobile with a gauntleted flipper. He had pushed the goggles up but his eyes already quite goggly themselves (being as he was, well, a toad) goggled even more at the thigh that emerged from the car, revealed by a slit-sided dress.

The young woman bent down and kissed her greenish driver on the top of his head, adjusting the large lapels of his overcoat as she did so.

"So kind of you," she breathed and walked slowly away. Mr Toad was awoken by a passing goblin some 5 minutes later, still holding the open door and staring into space. On being informed what day it was, he re-took his position behind the wheel and drove unsteadily off.

His passenger meanwhile sashayed towards the door. She took a compact out of her bag and checked in it's mirror that her eyebrows were correctly pencilled. She didn't need to check anything else; she knew she was a bombshell about to wreak some serious hormonal havoc.

She didn't knock, but simply opened the door. Quite a scene met her appraising gaze. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at someone in what appeared to be a Liberace costume. She supressed a grin at the green person whose figure seemed a suitable plan for a beanpole and then her eyes lit upon the one she sought.

She walked forward with enough sway in her hips for a Foucault pendulum and stood in front of the weskitted whiskery chap with a clip board and watch.

"Harvey," she breathed, huskily.

The rabrit (for it was he) craned his head slowly upwards, his gaze travelling from curve of waist to strapless top of the second skin she wore.

"Yes?" he tried to say. What emerged was close to "Hrgghh."

She reached out and stroked the little fellow between the ears. Then under the chin. The mildly Wicked Witch blinked and identified the motion as "skritching." She grudgingly admired the way the woman had made Harvey unconsciously stand on the tips of his paws with his chin in the air.

"Harvey, darling. It's me. Jessica - widow of your cousin, Roger. I - I needed some time away from the city and thought...if you didn't mind...I'd visit you for an itsy bitsy time?"

Harvey was, by now, quivering and Jessica stopped skritching. His large eyes, which had closed in ecstacy flew open.

"J..Jessica..." he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a black and white signed photo of the vision in front of him. "Oh my, oh dear..." He looked at the photo, then at the woman, then at the photo again.

She began playing with the tip of his left ear. "Ohhhh..." he moaned and he went cross-eyed and silent again.

Jessica looked around with a big smile. "Well, isn't this fun?"
 
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Pam, one of the Three Little Pigs

Pam was woken from her dreams of Larry by the sound of a horn tooting. With a groan and disgusted,"Darn," she slid from her bed and went to the window to see who was beeping at this hour of the night. Her disgust was not so much about the actual beeping as the fact that the beeper had woken her just at the important part of the dream, the climax, so to speak. Her body was aroused and her mind still foggy from that arousal when she peered out the window just in time to see a set of taillights careen around the bend of the road.

"Dratted Toad," she muttered recognizing the taillights that could only belong to a Bugatti. "Wonder where he is off in such a hurry this time of night?" With a yawn she pulled on her robe and slid her feet into a pair of mules. Now that she was awake, it would be hard to fall back to sleep again. Perhaps some peppermint tea was the ticket for a quick return to lullaby land.

As she stood at her sink, filling the teapot, she noticed that the lights were on at her closest neighbor's house. Pam liked Red, but she wasn't sure she really approved of her livelihood, still a girl had to make a living and it wasn't that easy here in the testostrone laden Kingdom. Seeing lights on at night was a common sight at Red's. She was a day sleeper as one could expect. As she watched a couple of owls swooping through the trees, Pam gave only the slightest nod of curiousity as to Red's customer. But not really caring and having seen just about every male having come and gone from Red's, Pam's unfocused look was turned inward to her memories of the afternoon with Larry.

She was startled from her reverie by the whistle of the teakettle and as she turned away from the window, she noticed that a car was coming along the road. To her amazement it was the Bugatti now heading in the opposite direction. This peaked her curiousity much more than anything going on at the house on the other side of the clearing. As she steeped her tea, breathing deeply of the aroma of peppermint, she wondered where Toad had gone and why for such a short time. Perhaps he had planned to attend the FFTVA, forgotten the time, and dashed over only to find out he was too late?

Perhaps he needed a cup of sugar and had gone to Simon's house to borrow some. As silly as that sounded, most of the denizens of the forest went there when needing sugar, Simon kept it in hog's head barrels he used so much in his pies. Still it was hard to believe that Toad had needed sugar at this hour of the night and gone to wake Simon up. Everyone knew that Red was the night owl and Simon the early bird of the forest.

Still musing over the curiousity of Toad and his Bugatti, Pam stood at the sink watching the owls and sipping her hot tea.
 
Felix Manosta, The boot wearing cat.

Felix walked through the forest slowly, the heels of his boots clicking against the path. He had been told that somewhere in this forest there was a witch, who would have a job for him. He hadn't worked much with witches, since his ability to walk on two feet and talk seemed to have something to do with magic. It just seemed like a dangerous situation to be in. Who knew when a witch might just magically take away his powers, and leave him as nothing but a poor little cat? The thought of loosing who he was kind of frightened him, but then again, if he didn't face this challenge he would prove that he really was their "puss in boots". He narrowed his eyes. He hated that name

His sword sat at his side, bound into the belt that he was wearing. He didn't expect to actually run into anything in this place that he'd be able to use the sword on, but that was alright. There was no point in going after monsters if he wasn't going to get paid to take care of them. That would be like setting up a nice young woman with a strapping young male just for giggles. It didn't make any sense. No point in doing work for nothing.

He finally saw the cottage as it came into view. How perfect. That looked like the housing place of a witch. He smirked softly and walked up to the door of the cottage, using the sheath of his sword to strike it three times, rather than knocking on the door in a traditional fashion. He then stood and waited for the door to open.

It didn't.

He looked at the large door for a moment before knocking against it with his sheathed sword. He then waited again, only to receive no response. It seemed that he had come all the way out into this forest to get a job, and the person that he had come out here to get the job from wasn't here. He narrowed his eyes, and hissed softly before turning around, crossing his arms over his chest, and flopping down on the doorstep of the cottage in a rather dejected manner.

This was rather unpleasant. He was already tight on money, and someone had told him that there was definitely a witch out in this forest who would have a need for his special talents. He had thought, 'sure, I haven't dealt with witches that much. I'm sure they aren't as bad as everyone says they are.' and then he had gotten out here, and there was no witch, just an empty cottage where a witch might have lived.

He narrowed his emerald eyes and adjusted the large, fancy hat, "I hate waiting..." He tapped his sword against the ground in front of him.

This was why he hadn't taken many jobs where someone had said 'oh, this person who lives out here is sure to have a job for you.' They never did. He'd get out there and the person would always be angry and busy and then send him away, or like this case, there was no person and he had been sent out there just to get him away from everyone else.

Part of him wanted to get up and storm back into town, find someone who actually needed him to do a job, but that wouldn't do any good. He was going to need supplies soon, and for all he knew, this witch knew something about who had killed his master. Oh things were going to go up for him if he found that out. He'd be able to go on some grand quest, finally knowing who it was that he was looking for. That was what kept him sitting, waiting for the witch the return. The thought that she might be able to help him.

There was also the thought that she might be attractive, but then again, from what he had heard about witches, that wasn't very likely. The rumors were that they were all ugly and warty and old. He chuckled to himself at the image that his mind had conjured up of an old warty witch with stringy gray hair and wrinkly skin. Yeah, a woman like that would probably need his talent at pairing up women with strapping young males, and that would be an easy job. He'd just convince some young male that there was an old woman who needed his help, and then collect his pay, and by the time anyone knew what was going on he'd be long gone.

He smiled softly and then leaned back against the door of the witch's cottage, pulling his had down over his eyes and taking a catnap. The witch would be back eventually, and there was no point in staying awake to wait for her. Who knew how long it would take for a witch to do whatever it was she was doing and then come back to her cottage? He certainly didn't concern himself in discovering such knowledge.
 
Gladiola, The Mildly Wicked

Just as Gladiola's eyes were adjusting to Leonard's baubles and bangles and well, more baubles, the door to the Hall whooshed open to admit... She sighed deeply and looked down at her plain black dress that hung loosely on her thin body. She'd been uniformly upstaged by a drag queen (albeit an EVIL one) and a hussy! It was unheard of! "I knew I should have worn the pearls," she muttered to herself.

"Not freshwater, I hope." Leonard frowned, leaning down to whisper in the witch's ear. "They're so... tacky."

Gladiola closed her eyes -- of course those were the only kind she had -- and shook her head back and forth. "Tacky," she agreed forlornly.

"Well then," Mervin interjected, eager to change the subject. "I suppose we should... "

"Pay the rabrit," Gladiola said, finishing his sentence. "Take care of it, will you? The sooner he's gone, the... " She studied the way Jessica was skritching Harvey's ear and noted the overtly orgasmic look on the lapin's face. Maybe I should take lessons, she thought. Yes, that's what she'd do! In fact, she'd send off to Acme this very night and sign up for their course on Love, Lust and Licentious Living. Or was that lingerie?
 
Jessica struts her stuff

Jessica surveyed the Hall, her eyes falling on a bottle of wine which sat on one of the empty banquet tables. As she moved toward it, Harvey drifted dreamily along behind. Head nodding up and down, his eyes focused on her derriére which was jouncing rhythmically in a boom-ba-da-boom sort of way that seemed a metronome that set the beat for the throbbing rhythm of his blood.

"What have we here?" she purred, her hand caressing the bottle in a manner alarmingly familiar to the rabrit. "P & P Vintner's Mushroom Delight: Enjoyed by fun guys everywhere! Are you a fun guy, Harrrrvey?"

She smiled when he nodded enthusiastically and barely noticed the slender thread of spittle which hung tenaciously from the corner of his mouth. As her fingers stroked the slender neck, her thumb smoothing over the ridge screw-on cap, Jessica sighed. "Good. It's been a long time since I've had any... fun."

Truth was, it had been a long time since Jessica had had any anything. Far too long. "Well then... " she said, in that half-whisper she used to make men move closer when she spoke. "Purrrrrrrhaps we should leave the others to their own devices and... "

Harvey gulped.
 
Pam, one of the Three Little Pigs

Pam shook herself. She glanced at the clock and realized she had been standing there holding her cup and staring out the window for twenty minutes. With a shiver, she also realized that she was cold.

"Time to get back to bed," she muttered, "Or this will be one frozen piggy."

Rinsing out her cup, she went back to her bedroom and snuggled in under her quilt. As she settled into her sleep, her dream mode kicked in and soon she was dancing in a field of Black-eyed Susans. Suddenly a head popped up among the tall stalks and Pam cut off a shrill scream. "Good grief, Peter Rabbit, what are you doing out here?"

"I am looking for my mittens," whimpered Peter. "If I don't find them, my mother said she would make mutton soup out of me."

"Peter? You do know that mutton comes from sheep, don't you? Although, you mother couldn't make mutton soup out of you, she could certainly make Welsh Rarebit out of you."

Peter's eyes got very huge at that comment and Pam laughed. "I am kidding, Peter. There is no rabbit in rarebit. Let's see what we can do about finding that mitten."

The two of them carefully moved each flower, trying not to damage the yellow and black blossoms. Shortly, Peter let out a cry of joy. Pam laughed. "I guess that means you have found your mittens."

"Yes," responded Peter, "but it took the Kittens a lot longer to find theirs." With a grin, he loped off towards home to get his mother's approval and find something to eat. All that talk about food had made him hungry.

Pam turned to wave when she saw the strangest sight, Elephants dancing in the air. pink elephants at that. She watched them for a while but then got bored and went on her way through the field. When the sky grew cloudy she began to hurry. She could see her front door, she ran harder but somehow the door stayed the same distance from her. She ran and ran, her hand holding her aching side and just as she felt she might actually get home a bridge appeared.

Pam stopped and stared in horror. On the bridge was a troll. Pam couldn't see his face, his back was to her, but it looked like Larry. Pam crept slowly forward, thinking that what she was seeing couldn't be true. But it was. Larry was turning a spit over the fire and on the spit was a pig. As Pam watched, Larry began to dance around the fire singing, "Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the pig-eating man."

With a loud gasp, Pam sat up, her hoof against her heaving chest. It took a moment for her eyes to focus and for Pam to realize that she was in bed and had been having a terrible dream. While she waited for her breathing to ease and her heart to slow down, she tried to remember the bits and pieces of the dream. Pam didn't have nightmares usually, but she had found that when it came to dreams it was best if she could break them down and then figure out what each part meant, where it related to her life when she was awake. The part about Peter was easy, obviously Pam was seeking something in her life. The part about Larry was harder. Did it mean that she should be careful and not trust him? Did it mean that all the while he was being nice to her, he had been considering eating her? Or, was it possible that it all meant nothing but was merely a weird mix of several events in her life and what she had read in books?

It was a long time before Pam was ready to close her eyes again.
 
Miss Behavin' said:
"What have we here?" she purred, her hand caressing the bottle in a manner alarmingly familiar to the rabrit. "P & P Vintner's Mushroom Delight: Enjoyed by fun guys everywhere! Are you a fun guy, Harrrrvey?"

Well of course he was; yes, at the Chronometer Society he was known as the mainspring of the movement.

Harvey, the power of rational thought returning to 2% of his brain, recalled something...

"Just a minute - did you say you were a widow...? Surely Roger's not...?"

Jessica sniffed and tossed her head petulantly. "No I didn't." She smiled wickedly. "To me, though, Roger, the scoundrel, is deceased. He is no more. He is an ex-rabbit. Therefore, I might well style myself widow. You'd be surprised how interesting that could make me. Are you interested in me Harvey? You seem to be..."

She stood so close to the little chap his eyes were full of cleavage. He gave a sort of whistle.

It had only been once - Roger never knew about the weekend when he was away on the golfing trip. It was important that he never find out either. Despite what seemed to be something of a rift between Roger and Jessica, his relation did have something of a short temper and well...

"Purrrrrrrhaps we should leave the others to their own devices and... "

Harvey's paw began to tap noisily on the wooden floor.
 
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