Lubrican’s Fractured Fairy Tales
by Robert Lubrican
Copyright 2010 Robert Lubrican
2nd edition edited 2023
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Table of Contents
Pinocchio's Growing Concern - A Fractured Fairy Tale
The Princess and the Prick - A Fractured Fairy Tale
The Queen's Protector –An Original Fairy Tale
Rumpelstiltskin - A Fractured Fairy Tale
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Pinocchio's Growing Concern
Foreword: Most of us are familiar with the story of Pinocchio, the marionette who came to life. We were told the story as children. If you were not told that story, or have forgotten it, just Google Pinocchio and read for a bit. It will help you understand what follows. Of course, whenever children are told a story, many of the good parts are left out, because adults don't want children to know about them. Some of those parents go on to rewrite history as well. They're called "revisionists", and they seek to change history with the stroke of a pen, wielding it like a sword to cut out the "objectionable" truth of things. Well, that can work both ways. The pen ... or in this case ... the word processor ... is mightier than the revisionist. Here is what really happened.
Well ... maybe anyhow. Nobody can prove I'm wrong.
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Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a woodcutter who, of course, made his living by selling wood to his neighbors. In those days, wood was hard to come by because most of the forests with good wood for furniture in them belonged to the king. The king, knowing that the people would strip his precious forests bare unless they were protected, had his sorcerer put a spell on all his forests.
Now, the sorcerer, being basically lazy, just like everybody else, got bored with going around enchanting trees to extend their limbs magically, snatch up anyone who tried to cut them down, and wave them in the air, before throwing them to their deaths. Those spells were a lot of work to do, and there were many, many trees. So, instead, she enchanted a tree here, and a tree there to be that way and then cast a general spell on the rest of the forest such that the trees could speak. All the trees, of course, threatened dire things, should someone come near them with an ax or saw, and everyone thought that all of them were deadly.
The forests were thus left alone for many, many years, even after both the king and his sorcerer were long dead. Stories about the danger in the forests, of course, lived much longer, as did the enchantments set in place by the sorcerer. So, too, did the woodcutter's descendants still live, and Romero, his great-great grandson was also a woodcutter. This one supported his family by selling not only fire wood, but also by supplying wood to the town carpenter, Master Cherry.
Now, good wood for furniture was still hard to come by. The only place one could find it was in the enchanted forests. Men like Romero had learned, over the years that some trees in the forest were enchanted and some were not. He was very careful whenever he entered the forbidden places because he well knew there were some trees that could move their branches without the help of the wind and cause great harm.
Over the decades, most of the trees gradually lost their ability to speak. They couldn't pass that enchantment on when they sent seeds out into the world, and most of them eventually died. As for the rest, there was rarely anyone to talk to ... or at, as it were, and language not used is soon lost. On top of that, cross pollination had altered the genetic makeup of some trees. Of course Romero didn't know that. He couldn't know that, because genes hadn't even been discovered yet. The trees were still protected and tended, sometimes, by the wood nymphs, though they were a dying breed. Romero knew about wood nymphs, but only that should a beautiful wood nymph maiden beckon to him, he should avoid her. Men who answered the call were seldom seen again.
The cherry tree that he eyed and examined did not appear to be one of the ones that could snatch your ax from your hands and then use it against you. He lopped off the tip of a branch with his knife, since that was easier to keep hold of, and when there was ho howl of dismay, and no movement in the branches he was glad, because it was very old, and would yield much lumber. As he hefted his ax, he was satisfied that this was just a normal cherry tree.
In that, he was wrong, though he would never know it. He was merely pleased, as he chopped the tree down. He thought it very appropriate that he would be taking cherry wood to Master Cherry. Had he been a little younger, his failing ears might have heard the faint sounds of pain and complaint that came from the wood as his ax bit into it.
The logs Romero delivered to Master Cherry sat for a long while as they cured, but eventually the carpenter decided to make a table out of them. He began with the legs, and it was then that he learned that the wood he now owned had come from the enchanted forest. He learned this when he applied hammer and chisel, and the wood spoke to him, complaining of the hurt he was causing. Unnerved, he laid the wood aside.
A few weeks later, he was visited by Gepetto, the puppet master in town, who was looking for wood to make a special marionette. Gepetto lived an odd life in that he was very popular because of his work with puppets, which was amazing, but he was disliked by almost everyone because he had a foul disposition. He did well with characters he could control and who could not speak to him, but poorly with real people. It never occurred to anyone that he might just be lonely, which, in fact, he was.
Master Cherry didn't care whether Gepetto was lonely or not. He saw an opportunity to unload his enchanted wood on the old geezer, and did so.
But, because Gepetto was lonely, when he began to craft his special marionette and it spoke to him he didn't mind all that much, though it was exceedingly strange. It didn't matter that he started on the head, because the wood spoke with no mouth. When he finished the eyes they moved and watched. When he finished the mouth the puppet was able to speak much more loudly though and soon Gepetto had an almost constant headache from the chatter of the partially finished wooden boy. Still, he had wanted to make this particular marionette for many years and there was now someone to talk to, so he carved on.
Part of the reason Gepetto wanted to make this particular design was because, as is true with many men as they grow older, Gepetto's bodily functions were beginning to fail. He had never married, but money has always been able to buy sex, so his life hadn't been bereft of sensual pleasure. The problem was that these days, he wasn't getting his money's worth, because his own personal "wood" was about as cooperative as a wet noodle. That was because he didn't feel anything for the whores and their impatience for him to be done and gone and for his purse to be lighter. It just cooled his ardor.
His plan, since he could only enjoy sex vicariously now, was to make a pair of marionettes that would be, shall we say, anatomically correct. Then he could enact his fantasies, participating in a way that he hoped would render him some measure of ... comfort.
Explaining this to a wooden puppet wasn't something he'd thought he'd have to do. And, as should be obvious, the puppet had no idea of what sex even was, which made the puppet master's headaches even worse. That he hadn't yet started the girl puppet made it impossible for him to explain it by showing Pinocchio how things would eventually work.
So, putting bee's wax in his ears to dull the incessant chatter of the half-made puppet, Gepetto carefully planned to use a knot for the puppet's wooden penis. That knot had at one time been the base of a branch, which Romero had chopped off. Had Gepetto thought of that as he carefully chiseled a likeness of his own penis (as he wished it still was) onto the loins of the talking toy, he might have winced. Of course his own chisel was causing as much, if not more, pain. But then all his chipping and sanding had elicited complaints from the ungrateful marionette-to-be, who complained about everything.
When he was finished, Gepetto stared at the phallus he had created. It was darker than the red of the rest of the wood, almost purple, which pleased him. He couldn't wait to see that phallus sliding into the beautiful girl puppet he intended to create next.
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To this point, the only thing that moved independently on his creation were the eyes, which followed his movements as he worked, and his lips and jaw, which moved constantly as he made all that infernal racket. It was also a bit unnerving that a piece of wood was moving and talking. To make it less uncomfortable, he painted each portion of the doll as it was completed. He made the eyes blue, because that made them more comfortable when they fell on him.
It was as he added the last touch of black to Pinocchio's shoes, and then went to clean his brush, that Gepetto got his first hint that things might get even more interesting. He heard clumping behind him, and turned to see the puppet walking stiffly around the room.
The very first thing he thought of was that, if it was still available he had to get more of the enchanted wood from Master Cherry, with which to make the girl puppet. If the two of them could move independently, he wouldn't have to manipulate them in the act of sex. He could just sit and watch while his hand did what a whore's pussy could no longer do.
But the problem was that Pinocchio had a head of wood, with no sense in it at all, and as he stumbled around the house he knocked a chair into the fire place. It caught fire instantly and smoke filled the house. Gepetto grabbed the chair, opened the door and threw it outside. It wasn't until he finished rubbing his eyes that he saw Pinocchio trundling off down the road, going in search of an adventure.
Now, we've all heard about what happened then, about Gepetto chasing him, and getting hauled off to prison, and how Pinocchio got into all sorts of trouble, killing a talking cricket, and meeting other characters in the story, such as the fox and cat who tried to rob and kill him. All of that happened, to be sure, but there is much more that went on as well, and the telling got a bit skewed. That's because the adults didn't think little children should hear about what really happened when Pinocchio lied.
You see, it wasn't his nose that grew when he lied. Oh, no. It was that knot that Gepetto had carved into his little wooden penis that grew when he lied. It was the blue-haired Fairy Princess who found out about this … feature … of the puppet, and that is what changed Pinocchio's life forever.
Now, here is where the story begins to stray from what you'll see if you buy the video. You see, the Fairy Princess was not, in fact, a Fairy Princess. She looked like a Fairy Princess, but that was because of a spell she had cast on herself, which gave her the blue-haired appearance of a normal fairy.
More, on that, later.
She did, in fact, have him cut down from the tree where the fox and the cat hanged him. Mr. Disney left that part out of the movie he made, but in the original story, that's what happened. When he put his money in his mouth, and they couldn't get at it to steal it, they hanged him, thinking to come back when he was dead and get the money then.
Of course a wooden puppet can't be killed by hanging, no matter how badly you want it to be so.
Instead, the Fairy Princess had him cut down and brought to her house, and placed in her bed, where she cared for him until, like the bad boy he was, he refused to take his medicine until the undertaker came for him. Then, he finally swallowed the curative, and revived well enough to tell his tale ... and his first lie.
He told her he had lost the gold that the fox and cat had tried to steal from him.
The bed covers suddenly rose two inches.
Both Pinocchio and the Fairy Princess stared at the tent.
"I know I am beautiful," said the princess, "but it is rude of you to show it so."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said the puppet. The tent shrank back down.
The Fairy Princess shrugged. "Now, about the money. You say you lost it?"
"Um ... yes," said Pinocchio.
The tent was suddenly back.
"And where, exactly, did you lose it?" asked the gorgeous blue-skinned fairy, eying the lump.
"Well, since it is lost, I don't know where it is, which means I don't know where I lost it," said the puppet, using circular logic. "If I knew where I lost it, it wouldn't be lost, now would it?"
The Fairy Princess didn't seem to be paying much attention to his carefully crafted lie though, instead staring at the sheet covering his wooden body. He looked at where she was looking, and saw the sheet hovering, more or less, a foot above his body.
"How curious," said the little wooden boy.
"How curious, indeed," said the beautiful princess. She whipped the sheet off of the boy, to reveal a magnificent penis, as sturdy as a tree branch, which, for all intents and purposes, it now was. The 'limb', in its growth, had ripped through the puppet's short pants, and protruded a foot into the air.
"Where did that come from?" asked Pinocchio.
"Where, indeed?" said the wide-eyed creature. She was undoing the ties of her filmy fairy dress as she asked the question. "It surely wasn't there when I put you into my bed."
"Whatever are you doing?" asked Pinocchio.
There was a shimmering in the air around the princess, and her hair suddenly became lime green, and her skin a mottled brown.
"I am a wood nymph," said the girl, staring at the foot long wooden penis in front of her. "A while back I tired of taking care of trees, and wanted to live a more exciting life, so I made myself look like a Fairy Princess." She leered at the wooden projection in front of her. "But I still have a special relationship with wood ... and I intend to have a very special relationship with that wood."
Pinocchio, truly not understanding what was about to happen, but happy that she seemed to have forgotten all about the four gold pieces that currently lay under his tongue, simply lay there watching as, for the first time, he saw what Gepetto had tried to explain to him about "girls".
The nymph, who was not much taller than Pinocchio himself, didn't seem to have a flat place on her whole body, with the possible exception of her stomach, which actually seemed to dip inward in comparison to the two swells of greenish-brown flesh above it. The tips of those appeared to have buds of some type on them, dark green and swollen, as if they were about to burst into flower any second. Below that flat stomach, her hips swelled too, making her look like an hour glass with arms and legs. Between those legs was something that, to Pinocchio's wooden eyes, appeared to be Spanish moss, also lime green, matching the whorls of stuff on top of her head. Pinocchio's own hair was just paint over carved lines. Gepetto had planned on making a tiny wig to glue to his puppet's loins, but hadn't gotten around to that when the little wooden boy had gone running into the town.
"Why are you shedding your leaves?" asked Pinocchio. "It is only spring!"
"Spring is the time of blossoming," said the now panting nymph. Two drops of pale lavender ... something ... appeared on the tips of the things Gepetto had called "breasts".
"You're leaking sap!" said Pinocchio.
"I intend to make you leak a great quantity of sap too, my sweet," said the panting nymph as she crawled on top of Pinocchio. She gripped the club thrusting from his loins and aimed it at the Spanish moss between her legs.
"I don't understand any of this," complained the puppet.
His penis shrank two inches in the wood nymph's hand.
"What are you doing?" she squealed. "Don't make it smaller!"
"I don't know what I'm doing!" complained Pinocchio. "That's the problem!"
It shrank another two inches.
"No, no, No!" complained the wood nymph. "Make it big and hard like before!"
"I don't know how to make it bigger!" whined Pinocchio.
It shrank another two inches as he told the truth. It was now no larger than the average penis. The wood nymph looked at it in dismay. She'd had four or five that size in just the last two days, and they had done little except make her more inflamed. In truth, she had taken on the tending of the poor wooden boy only to distract her from her normal feelings of lust. And, of course, because he was made of wood ... but that was secondary. Or had been. Now it was her primary consideration.
"This will never do," grumped the nymph, climbing back off. Experimentally, she leaned over to lovingly suck the tip of the shrunken branch. It tasted faintly of cherry, which was pleasing, but nothing happened. She stood up, her hands on her hips, a frown on her beautiful face. "It got that big once, and that means it can get that big. I absolutely insist that you make it huge again!"
"It's never done that before," said Pinocchio truthfully. "I have no idea why it got that way at all."
Now the penis shrank to its original four inch length.
The wood nymph looked at it in disgust. "Well, you're no good to me that way," she sulked. "Let's go back to the money. I believe we were talking about where you lost it. Where was that again?"
"I told you I don't know," said Pinocchio, grieved that she had remembered the money.
Suddenly his penis was, again, six inches long.
The nymph was not stupid. She'd been around for a couple hundred years. She had known the puppet was lying when he said he didn't know where the money was. She didn't actually care about the money, but was always curious when someone lied to her. She was also familiar with magic, and there had to be some kind of magic around this wooden boy, who could walk and talk. She drew the connection between his lying and the size of his ... dildo ... which is really what it was, after all, and immediately felt a lot better.
"So you don't know where the money is?" she prodded.
"No, I don't," he said.
Now he was eight inches long.
She climbed up over him again, notched his wooden penis into her nymph pussy, and sank down on it with a sigh.
"What are you doing?" asked the puppet, who felt something delightful, despite the fact that he was made of wood. If sharp chisels could hurt him, a lovely warm clasping pussy could make him feel good.
"Tell me where you lost the money," said the nymph, sitting still on him.
"I can't," he said.
"Ooooo that's nice," she sighed, as he became ten inches inside her. "Tell me I'm ugly."
"But you're not ugly," said Pinocchio, shrinking.
"No, no No!" she demanded, feeling him getting smaller. "Tell me you think I'm ugly!"
Pinocchio may have been only a few days old, as living creatures would count it, but he had been made to be male, and as such, something had been imbued into him by his maker. Gepetto didn't understand women, but he did understand how, sometimes, a little lie seemed to make them happy - particularly when they were quite plain and he said they were quite beautiful. Lying to them sometimes made them more pleasant. Pinocchio didn't understand why this beautiful creature would want him to lie to her, but he wanted to make her happy, not to say she seemed to have forgotten about the money again, so he did.
"You're the ugliest thing I've seen all day," he offered tentatively.
"Oooooo yesssssss," she hissed, as he grew back to ten inches. "Again! Tell me how ugly I am!"
Pinocchio was learning to dance the dance that men and women have danced for millions of years, though he still didn't understand it. She was also clasping him much more tightly as he grew ... and that felt even better.
"You're so ugly that I can hardly bear to look at you!" he gasped.
"Oh yes!" she squealed, as he reached a foot, and the tip of his wooden prick entered her womb. She all but swooned on top of him, but retained enough presence to begin gyrating and bouncing. Pinocchio watched interestedly as her breasts bounced and began dripping lavender drops. He suddenly realized he was thirsty, and reached to pull her to where those drops might be sucked into his mouth.
Now, if you are a student of things arcane and mythological, you already know that the milk of a wood nymph is an almost deadly soporific to a human being. That's how wood nymphs have victimized men for centuries. The lavender milk robs them of the ability to resist, or even move, and many a man has been left a whimpering husk by a lusty wood nymph who won't stop fucking him until he's almost dead. It was for this reason that the nymph didn't object to Pinocchio suckling at her arcane and mythological teats. Now that she had him at twelve inches of 'wood', she wanted him to stay there. In fact, she bunched a couple of muscles that human women don't have, and squirted half a pint of wood nymph milk into the puppet's mouth, for extra measure.
Wood nymphs don't know everything, of course, and this was the first puppet a wood nymph had ever fucked, so she had no way of knowing that her milk would have a different effect on a boy made of wood. It aged him, and within a space of a few minutes, Pinocchio was the equivalent of a seventeen year old boy. While a boy of ten might be expected to have a four inch prick, a boy of seventeen would be much larger. The nymph found herself riding a fence post, for all intents and purposes, and it was a fence post that was now connected to a set of balls the size of musk melons.
Pinocchio's short pants were now in tatters.
"Oh fuck yes!" screeched the happy wood nymph, who looked down to see her belly swollen, as if she were pregnant.
That was another thing the wood nymph didn't know. She had received, into her womb, literally gallons of human semen over the years, none of which had any effect whatsoever on her arcane and mythological body. But Pinocchio wasn't human - not yet - and it was spring, and in spring the sap flows, and Pinocchio's sap, when it flowed, found a very receptive arcane and mythological womb to receive it.
This time it was the wood nymph who was left a sated husk, as she swooned through an orgasm she'd write about in her journal, and fell limply to lie on Pinocchio's supine body, pulling off of his spike in the process. She found it wasn't comfortable, as there seemed to be an overly full belly in the way. She rolled, and looked down in amazement to find that it was her own belly that was so swollen. She looked at the sixteen inch long penis she had just vacated, and which had made her belly swell, and realized with delight that she was now very, very pregnant, something she had always wished she could be, but had never been able to manage before.
"Oh thank you!" she squealed, rubbing her hands over her rounded belly. "You have given me so much sap that you've made a little acorn in me, to raise as my very own!"
"I enjoyed that very much!" gasped Pinocchio, and promptly shrank to thirteen inches. "I'd very much like to do that again! I had no idea that releasing sap could be so much fun!"
Suddenly his wooden phallus was only ten inches, and looked almost normal, since he was now almost six feet tall.
"Oh, you'll get the chance to do that again ... many times, if I have my way!" said the satisfied nymph. "And I know you think I'm really beautiful, right?"
"Most beautiful," sighed Pinocchio, shrinking to seven inches.
"Good boy," said the nymph, closing her eyes to take a nap.
Pinocchio had enjoyed the initiation of his virgin wood ... (Sorry. I couldn't resist) ... immensely, but soon grew bored with lying beside the sleeping nymph. As he got up, he felt ... more flexible ... somehow, and examined his arms to find that the grain was much smoother than it had been before. It was almost as if he had been sanded with very fine sandpaper ... except that sandpaper hadn't been invented yet. It was a little pinker too. The money in his mouth suddenly felt uncomfortable, and he removed the four coins. He couldn't put them in his pocket, because his burgeoning penis had ripped his shorts to shreds. He took those off, staring at the six inch hard thing that the wood nymph had made feel so wonderful. The sap shooting through it was the best, and he hoped he would get to do that again quite soon.
He looked around for some new pants to wear, but found nothing. So, wearing only his tunic, he wandered out of the nymph's house, his four gold coins gripped in his hand, and set off to go back home.
He didn't make it far before people began to stare at him in the most curious way.
What would you think if you saw a six foot tall puppet sauntering along, half dressed, with a six inch long wooden penis sprouting from between his legs? Well, if you were a decent sort, you'd make up something suitable for children to read when you wrote it down. That's what you'd do, even though it skewed the truth rather badly.
But then, if you're reading this, you're not the sort of person who might be ashamed to say you saw a walking dildo, now are you?
Never mind. On with the tale.
It was Dame Columbus who was the first to take action. She was a decent sort of woman, only vaguely related to her very distant cousin Christopher, who had raised such a ruckus when he discovered that whole new continent, but she had parlayed that into a sensible marriage to a wealthy man. Sensible it may have been ... but it was not fulfilling. Actually, not to put too fine a point on it, it wasn't ... filling. The man had money, but lacked the other thing that makes women happy. He was, in fact, as queer as a three lira coin, which was pretty queer, if you know what I mean. On their wedding night, he had attempted to do his husbandly duty, and destroy his new and very respectable wife's virginity, but with dismally poor success. Pretending her pussy was Ernesto's bung hole had gotten him stiff enough to tear things, but, once inside her, she was so slippery and loose that he couldn't sustain the fantasy, and he crawled off of her long before she was ready for him to do so. She was, at the time she saw Pinocchio, in the flower of her youth, being only eighteen summers old, and very unsatisfied as a woman.
Decent though she was, Dame Columbus recognized something in this young man's swagger which made his penis sway not a bit and which she had expected to find in her husband ... but had not.
"Young man!" she called to him. "'Tis not decent to display yourself in such an unseemly manner!"
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Pinocchio. Since he was not actually sorry, he grew to eight inches. "I have no pants to wear." He shrank back to six.
The effect of seeing such a thing, from Dame Columbus' viewpoint, was electric, even though electricity hadn't yet been invented. Her memory of her wedding night was still stark in her mind. She had just begun enjoying the thing her husband had thrust into her when it was suddenly withdrawn, never to prod her since. It wasn't that she wanted to cheat on her husband. She was just consumed with curiosity ... that's all.
"You must come into my house, where I may clothe you decently," she admonished.
Pinocchio complied, following her into the house. They were met by Lucinda, her maid. Lucinda, being of the tender age of sixteen, and having dozens of times more experience with penises than her mistress, was entranced instantly.
"I've never seen him around before," she sighed, staring at his wooden prick, and the lemon sized twin bulges below it.
"He was just walking down the street, as if nothing was out of the ordinary!" said Dame Columbus. "He shocked me most rudely."
"I'm sorry," said Pinocchio, even though he was not. He was just trying to be polite.
"Oh look!" squealed Lucinda. "He finds us attractive!"
"'Tis not seemly for him to find us so," said Dame Columbus. She lied too, but nothing grew, except perhaps her untried nipples, under the bodice of her dress. She longed to be found ... attractive. Her husband obviously didn't find her so.
"Whatever shall we do?" asked Lucinda. She knew exactly what she'd like to do.
"We must make him decent, of course," said Dame Columbus, decently. "Find a pair of the master's trousers, so that he may cover his nakedness."
Lucinda didn't really want to cover up the fascinating thing that was exposed, but, she was used to jumping when the mistress told her to, so she ran to find a pair of the master's pants, and brought them back to Dame Columbus. She handed them to the woman, who handed them to Pinocchio, who tried to pull them on. There was an ... obstruction that kept him from pulling them up.
"Help him," commanded Dame Columbus.
Lucinda was only too happy to grasp the obstruction, which felt smooth and so hard that it took her breath away. She pushed, and pulled, to no avail. It was just too large, and it didn't flex well at all, as Gepetto had only intended it to move up and down a couple of inches.
"It ... isn't ... working," panted Lucinda, as she struggled, using both hands.
"That feels very nice," commented Pinocchio. "It feels so nice that if you keep doing that, you may cause sap to come out of it."
"Leave him be!" said Dame Columbus stridently. The last thing she needed was to see something that beautiful spurting. She knew they spurted, because her nanny had taught her so when she was getting ready to get married. She had yet to see one do that, and she was quite sure that if she saw this one spurt, she might lose what little control she had left in her body. "Make him do it himself."
She looked commandingly at Pinocchio.
"Stuff that thing in those pants, boy!"
Pinocchio sighed as Lucinda's hands left his wooden prick. He grasped it with his free hand, but instead of putting it in his borrowed trousers, he stroked it. That felt much better.
"Stop that instantly!" moaned Dame Columbus.
"I can't!" said Pinocchio, lying.
The thing in his hand grew three inches.
"Oh my word!" sighed Lucinda.
"Use both hands!" cried Dame Columbus. "What's that in your other hand?"
"Nothing!" cried Pinocchio, fearing she'd take his coins.
He grew another three inches.
"Oh Mama!" shrieked Lucinda, staring at the ten inches of beautiful wooden penis that Pinocchio's hand wasn't covering. She sat down hard on the floor and her hand darted beneath her skirts.
Dame Columbus' eyes got larger and larger, until they rolled up into her head and she fainted dead away, falling in a crumpled heap on the floor. In the process her skirts shifted, and she showed a significant amount of ankle!
Lucinda wasted no time, once she saw that her mistress was no longer an obstruction to her pleasure. She lay back, pulled her skirt up to her chin, spread her legs, and then held out her arms to Pinocchio.