Jack and the Beanstalk

by Lubrican

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Chapter Three

Money burns a hole in a young man's pocket, even if it's not actually IN his pocket.  And eventually he couldn't keep his secret any longer.  He provided a seriously abbreviated version of events, that involved a cave, the mouth of which was covered by a thicket of thorns.  That also explained his ruined trousers, which his mother was very unhappy about.  She assumed the worst about him too, and suspected he had stolen the gold.

But, once Jack's mother got over the shock of seeing the strange gold coins—and once she let him come out from hiding, after she was sure the sheriff wasn't going to show up looking for him—she calmed down a bit.

Elizabeth was wary of suddenly displaying wealth.  So they continued to live as they had for a while.  She built a fire and melted down of the coins, separating it into smaller bits with a stick.  Those bits she traded for food, telling the vendor that a cherished heirloom had been melted down, rather than a giant coin.

They ate much better, and Elizabeth got some cloth to make new dresses for herself and Coreen.  The leather bag she used to make new pants for Jack, since his others were beyond repair.

It was Coreen who caused the trouble.  Once she found out about the money, she had visions of a dowry in her head, and of finding a handsome husband to woo her and take her away from all this.

Through judicious spying, she determined the location that her mother occasionally obtained gold to buy things with, on their infrequent visits to London, where they could spend a bit of gold without anyone raising an eyebrow.  Coreen's eyes lit up when she saw the hoard, and five of the coins quickly disappeared into her skirts.

She ran away from home, the next afternoon, sure that she'd find the husband of her dreams.  Being young, foolish, and ill equipped for her mission, she chose to first display a golden coin in a tavern, where she dimpled and asked for some lemonade.  The barkeep suggested something more than that.  She'd never had ale before and, when sweetened with honey, she found it quite tasty.  In fact, once she got used to it, she could drink it as if it WERE lemonade.

When she dragged her tired feet back home, she had neither gold, nor her maidenhead any longer.  Nor did she have any memory of how she lost either.

Elizabeth was furious, of course.  Fully an eighth of their fortune had been squandered, lost by a stupid and willful child.  She determined to ensure that the rest of their fortune was not wasted.  To that end, she decided to invest it.  She could make dresses.  She was tired of washing other people's clothes, and wanted to become a seamstress instead.

So she concocted a plan to tell the villagers that a distant uncle had died and left her some money.

That solved her problem of having unexplainable money to spend, but Jack’s problem wasn’t so easily dealt with.  He'd been singularly unsuccessful in finding a woman with whom to practice what Dinah had taught him, and using his hand wasn't nearly as much fun as it had been in the past.  He'd been giving some serious thought to planting another of his carefully hoarded beans and paying Dinah another visit.  It never occurred to him that clouds move or that she might not be there when he climbed up again.

As many a movie star and sports sensation has learned the hard way, nothing spends faster than money you don't think you'll ever run out of.

Soon they were ensconced in a nice, new house, with a bedroom for each of them, and a cute girl Jack's age as a live-in maid.  Coreen was happier, to some degree, because she got to go to London to shop for shoes and meet dashing young men.  None of them followed her home, though, which dampened her enthusiasm.  Elizabeth was just as happy being without a man, all things considered.

Of course tongues in the village wagged, but no one could find any evidence to suggest that their newfound wealth was ill-gotten, and people had to adjust.

In the process, though, all but two of Jack's coins were spent, leaving them in a lifestyle they had already gotten used to and no real spendable cash to support it.

One upside of the whole situation was Henrietta, the maid, attempting to capitalize on her new situation.  Henrietta had the average dose of avarice that most human beings seem to be imbued with.  Her upbringing had taught her that men held the reins of power, so she just naturally thought Jack held the key to access to their wealth.  She set about using what all women have used, historically speaking, to get her hands on a bit more of it than her normal wages.

At last Jack had someone with whom to practice his newly learned amorous exercises.

It started one day when his mother and Coreen were out shopping.  Henrietta entered Jack's bedroom, clean sheets in her arms.  Jack was in bed, having wakened with his usual morning woody.  He'd found that if he merely licked one of his magic beans, his penis simply got a smidgen larger and amazingly stiff.  That tended to make his masturbation sessions more enjoyable, which is what he was engaged in when Henrietta sashayed into his room.

"Oh my," she squealed.  "I thought you'd gone out this morning, Master Jack."  She tittered.  "Oh MY!" she sighed, staring at his impressive shaft.  "What a handsome fellow you sport between your legs!"

She was, in fact, impressed with her employer's manhood.  Jack himself wasn't much to look at, but she knew her way around a penis, and she was instantly glad she'd decided to get to know her way around this one.

"Um..." said Jack, who was not prepared for this situation.  "Thank you?"  He wasn't sure what the correct thing to do was, so he lay there gripping his penis firmly.

"A girl could be swept off her feet by such an impressive thing," hinted Henrietta.  She knew which side she wished to have her bread buttered on, and buttered him up in the process.

"Really?"  Jack suddenly realized the girl wasn't screaming...which suggested he might not be in any trouble after all.  She certainly didn't react to what he was doing like his mother and sister did.

"I'm fairly swooning right this instant," sighed Henrietta, somewhat impatiently.  She had no idea how long the mistress would be gone and wished to conclude her initial foray into endearing herself to the master quickly.

Still the young man didn't react like she expected him to.

"I don't want you to think I'm forward," she said firmly, "but I need to sit down lest I fall and injure myself."

She didn't wait for an invitation, but sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

"I don't think you're forward," said Jack, beginning to get a glimmer of what was actually going on.  He didn't understand why she was acting this way, but he decided not to ask too many questions.  His whirling mind came up with the only line he'd ever delivered to a woman, and it was delivered by instinct.

"Tis your fair beauty that makes it like this," he said, stroking his cock.

"Me?" she squeaked.  "You honor me, sir."

There was more, but it's not overly relevant to what happened.  The fact is that ten minutes later, after some hurried kisses and some mutual groping, Henrietta was flat on her naked back, legs thrown wide, and Jack was plugged securely into her very obviously not virgin pussy.

She was, in fact, somewhat loose, in Jack's opinion.  He had no way of knowing that her pussy was thusly engaged often, sometimes as much as two or three times a day, depending on who she ran into during her daily activities.

So, merely to increase his own pleasure, he reached his hand under the pillow her head was resting on and extracted the bean he had earlier licked.  He licked it several times now.

"Oh MY!" squealed the happy girl under him, who was suddenly filled in a way she'd never experienced before.  Of course she had no way of knowing why his penis suddenly felt so much better.  She was a lusty wench and simply enjoyed it.

Jack enjoyed it too, because this time his partner was his size.  That let him use his weight to his advantage, pinning her to the bed while he rammed his now oversized phallus deep in her belly.

His enthusiasm generated some of the same in Henrietta, who had never felt anything like this.  She realized with astonishment that she was actually going to have an orgasm, something that was rare indeed with the men she let between her legs.  They were, for the most part, somewhat hasty in their completion.

And so, when TWO orgasms later, Henrietta's lust soaked brain heard Jack cry out, "I'm going to spew!" she was ecstatic in her reaction.

"Yes!" she wailed.  "If you spew like you fuck, it will be coming out my ears!"

Jack's oversized balls did not disappoint the girl who, when he was finally finished soaking her in his warm sperm, actually meant it when she cried out, "Never have I been fucked so well!"

There was, as it turned out, another phenomenon that accompanied Jack's increase in size, when he licked or nibbled a magic bean.  While he did not know it, his potency was also affected.  Henrietta, loving to play, but not wishing to pay the consequences, regularly partook of certain herbs, purchased from the local witch woman, which prevented her from getting with child during her extracurricular activities.

In fact, there was an egg floating in her uterus which, that very morning had successfully fended off a dozen sperms donated by Willoughby Trencher, a traveling merchant who didn't mind trading trinkets for sex.  Not when the woman looked like Henrietta, anyway.  For letting him bang her box thoroughly, he'd given her a faux silver chain, with a cameo of the queen on it.

Mere herbs, however, were no match for Jack's magic enhanced spermatozoa.

That egg gave a figurative gasp when it was surrounded by dozens and dozens of Jacks magically strengthened swimmers and threw up her figurative arms as she was skewered thoroughly by one.  The energy that sperm brought with him caused her to accelerate her own activity, and they began to form Jack's first child.

In other words, when she said she was fucked...she meant it just as figuratively as she did literally.

She didn't even have to wait to miss her first period to realize she was with child.  Her accelerated development accounted for the fact that her body thought it was three months pregnant.  Poor Henrietta couldn't possibly blame Jack, though, and had no idea who had done this thing to her.  There were too many candidates.

In one way, it didn't matter.  In Jack, she had all the man she could ever want, and the fact she was pregnant didn't bother him at all.  They spent many hours engaged in happy fucking over the next few months.

That might have played a part in Henrietta delivering a twelve pound baby, only six months after she had first let Jack between her legs.

Eventually, Elizabeth's spendthrift ways depleted even the huge amount of gold that Jack had stolen from the giant.  When she realized the gold was gone, she blamed it on Jack, of course.

"Go and get more!" she ordered him.

As you may recall, Jack hadn't told her the entire story of how he got the gold.  He'd simply said he found it in a cave he'd discovered.

"I can't get more," he moaned.  "I'm pretty sure I got all there was."

"Well go back and look again," she insisted.

He knew what he'd have to do and planned accordingly.  He left in the afternoon, taking two of the original beans with him, and two of the ones that Dinah had harvested.  They were no worse the wear for having been licked repeatedly over the months.

Their old hovel was empty—no one was in miserable enough circumstances that they’d want to live there—so he took a nap inside and later, as the sun set, dug a hole and dropped in a bean.  Then he went back into the hut, so that no one would see him.

When it was fully dark he peered outside and, in the moonlight, saw another huge beanstalk.  He went out and began to climb.

Jack had time, during the climb, to remember that clouds drift and his stomach roiled at the thought that Mortimer and Dinah's house might have moved far away by now.  Again, the night was banished as he climbed and, even though it was still dark below, he could see well...had there been anything to see.  He gave a great sigh of relief when he exited the clouds and saw the huge Tudor house right where he’d left it.  His pockets were full of beans, just in case, but he was sure he'd be able to find something inside the house that would be worth enough to make his mother happy.

Jack, remembering the layout of the house, opened the front door only as wide as it took for him to squeeze in.  He looked around for Dinah, but everything was quiet.

Mindful of the mouse traps that Mortimer had made reference to, he crept along the base of one wall.  The stove was cold.  Creeping on, he peeked into room after room, only to find them silent and empty.  He tried to imagine where a giant would keep his sacks of golden coins.  Finally, he came to a room that smelled faintly of pipe smoke, with a big leather chair facing a hearth and shelves full of books that were covered with dust.  Mortimer's den obviously wasn't used for reading.

"Who are you?"

The high, clear voice so surprised him that Jack stumbled backwards, flailing.  Overbalanced, he fell hard on his butt.  His brain registered that the voice had been soft, not the thundering volume that both Dinah and Mortimer were capable of.

"Where did you go?" came the sweet voice.

Rising, he moved forward and peered around the chair, where the voice had come from.  He was astonished to see someone...or something...that looked like a woman with a harp growing out of her back.

As a female she was beautiful, with long golden tresses, an enticing bosom that was encased in blue silk, and hips that her long flowing dress could not hide completely.  Bare feet peeked from under the hem of the gown.

As a harp, she was also beautiful—all gilt, with precious gemstones embedded in the frame, and what looked like crystal strings.

"There you are!" said the woman.  Several of the strings on the harp vibrated, making an almost humming tone.

"Who are you?" asked Jack, astonished that this talking harp seemed to be alive.

"I asked you first," said the harp.

"I'm Jack."

"Oh!  I've heard of you!" she said excitedly.  "You're the one that got things all in an uproar around here!"

"I didn't mean to," said Jack, stepping around the chair to get a better look at this fascinating...person.

"Oh I loved it," said the harp.  "Things get so boring."

"I've never seen a woman who had a harp growing out of her back before," said Jack, awe in his voice.

"I'm one of a kind," she said.  "A spell was cast on me by an evil witch.  My name is Harmony."

"That's awful!" said Jack.

"Not really," said Harmony.  "Except for the boredom...and one or two other things."

"A witch did that to you?"

"Yes.  I dallied with her son, and she was angry with me because he was a virgin.  She was screaming at me about how she couldn't use him for a big spell anymore or something like that.  I was trying to run away at the time, so I didn't hear everything.  Then, suddenly, I couldn't run anymore, because my backbone had turned into this harp."

"Oh my," said Jack.  "That's terrible!  But how did you get here?"

"She sold me to Mortimer," said Harmony.

"But that's wrong!" yelped Jack.  "You can't just sell people!"

"As you can see," she said quietly.  "I'm not really a person anymore."  She brightened.  "But I can do this!"

Then, to his astonishment, the harp on her back began playing, and she sang to its accompaniment.  Her voice was so beautiful that it melted his heart.  It also made him stand stock still, paralyzed.  He couldn't move a muscle.

Then she stopped, and he was suddenly free again.

"That was so beautiful," he moaned.

"I know," she said carelessly.  "For all the good it does me.  You're the first person besides Mortimer and Dinah who's heard me in...oh...I don't know...years and years."

"Wow," said Jack.  "Magic sure does some funny things."

"I wouldn't call this funny," said Harmony, striking a discordant sound on her strings.  "I don't even know what to call myself.  I'm not a girl and I'm not a harp.  At least Dinah decided to call me a garp instead of a hirl.  Can you imagine how terrible it would be for my self esteem if someone looked at me and said 'I feel like hirling'?"

"I wasn't talking about that," said Jack.  "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.   What I was talking about was that I ate a magic bean and it...well it did funny things to me."

"You think I'm beautiful?"  She beamed.

"Yes," said Jack, feeling his groin tingling.  He couldn't keep his eyes off her thrusting breasts.

"Thank you.  But you look normal.  What kind of funny things did this bean do to you?" asked the curious garp.

"Oh, I couldn't show you," said Jack, blushing.  "You'd think I was a cad."

"It's been so long since I was with a man I might not mind if you were a cad," she sighed.

"Really?"  Jack was astonished that this beautiful thing might be having naughty thoughts.  

"You have no idea," she said.  "I still get horny, you know."

Jack blinked.  "But...I mean...with you like that...wouldn't it be kind of impossible to...?"  He stopped and blushed harder.

"I don't know," she said.  "I've never tried."  She looked at the lad again, this time from a different perspective.  He was kind of cute.  "How much of a cad does this magic make you?"  Her eyes narrowed.  "It doesn't turn you all hairy or give you cloven feet or anything like that does it?  I like sex, but not enough to get tangled up with a Satyr or something."

"No!" yelped Jack.  "It just makes my willy get really big!"  He slapped his hand over his mouth.  He hadn't meant to say that.

"Does it now?" purred the garp.  "Show me!"

"It would be rude!" he gasped.

"Not if I asked you to," she countered.

“I really should?” he asked, uncertainly.

“I insist!”  A bass string on the harp vibrated to punctuate her demand, like an audible exclamation point.

In a daze, Jack undid his pants and let them drop.

"Is that all?" said the garp, obviously disappointed.  "You must have been baby-sized before that."

"No!" said Jack.  "It went back to normal.  When I want it to get bigger, I just lick or nibble another magic bean."

"And with my luck, you don't happen to have one of your magic beans with you," she sighed.

"Yes I do," he said.  He got one out of his pocket.

"Really!" she said, excited again.  "Eat it!"

"I don't think you really want me to do that," said Jack.  "The last time I ate a whole one, Dinah about killed me."  He looked up at the ceiling.  He hadn't meant to say that either.

"You mean you...?"  The garp looked astonished.  "You mean you and Dinah...?”  She giggled.

"It's not funny," moaned Jack.  "I thought she was going to tear it off."

"Not that wee thing," laughed the garp.

Jack was stung.  Like any man, he was a little insecure about penis size, even if he knew he could make it pretty impressive.

"Oh yeah?"  He nibbled at the bean in his hand.  About a third of it broke off and he crunched and swallowed.  The garp looked on interestedly.

"I don't see anything happening," she teased.

"Well last time I saw Dinah's...um...privates," he said.  "I got kind of excited because of it."

"You mean like this?"

Harmony lifted her diaphanous pale blue dress, exposing her loins.  She was a true blond.  Plump pink lips perched tantalizingly below her fluff of blond pubes.

"Wow!" whispered Jack, staring.

"Oh my!" said Harmony.

Jack looked to see his prick stiffening.  It had grown to be almost ten inches and was drooping downward because of its weight.

"I told you," he said proudly.

"Come closer!" she whispered.

Jack stepped toward her, and her hand flashed out to grab his enlarged prick.  She pulled hard, and he had to take another step.

"OH MY!" she moaned as she felt the thick firmness in her hand.  "You're even bigger than Mortimer!"

Jack stopped, a look of horror on his face.

"You mean you and Mortimer have...?"

"No, silly!" she laughed.  "Didn't I just tell you I haven't had sex since that wicked witch did this to me?"

"But you just said..."

"I said you were even bigger than he is.  He walks around here naked half the time.  I think he's a closet nudist, actually.  It's torture for me, really, though I haven't complained.  If I did, he might get the idea that we could do something, and that would just make my strings snap.  He's creepy, you know."

"Creepy," said Jack, weakly.  Mortimer wanted to grind his bones and all she could call that was "creepy."

"Now come up right next to me!" said Harmony, her eyes bright.

It turned out it WAS possible.  It took a little work, because they had to couple standing up, but Jack was just the right height.  Well, other than the fact that the tip of his penis reached her xiphoid process, which is a fancy name for the solar plexus.

I thought a little highbrow language might impress you.  Sorry.  I get carried away sometimes.

Anyway, he had to bend his knees a LOT to get started, but once he stood back up, Harmony was obviously thrilled with the results.  That was clear by the beautiful trills the strings on her back emanated.  They encouraged him to open her gown in the front, exposing two pure white upturned breasts, with startlingly pink and elongated nipples.  He sucked at one and the music took on overtones of a second instrument playing.

Then, when he began flexing his knees, to drop and rise, her harp played a veritable symphony, filling the room with music that inflamed Jack and allowed him to ignore the strains on the muscles in his thighs as he almost jumped up and down.

There are some scholars, by the way, who think this may be where the term "Jumping Jack" came from.  But you don't care about that.  Back to the story.

So there they were, boy and garp, with Jack jumping around as if the floor were hot asphalt and he was barefoot.  He was very close to spewing and the music had reached an almost deafening crescendo...when Jack felt a rhythmic vibration in his feet that a teensy part of his brain recognized.

Mortimer!

He was coming back home!  Those measured vibrations could be nothing other than his giant feet slamming down on the ground.

"The giant!" he panted.

"DON'T STOP!" came Harmony's voice, barely discernable over the noise her back was making.

"He'll grind my BONES!" yelled Jack.

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