Jack and the Beanstalk, circa 2010
By Michael Williams
Published at Smashwords
© 2011
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Jack fought against the strange lethargy and opened his eyes. It was a Herculean effort, each weighed as much as a bus. With that accomplished he looked around the dimly lit room and tried desperately to make sense of the strangeness of it.
“Try to relax,” a feminine voice said behind him. “I know it’s difficult the first time, but please trust me; I’ll try to do this as gently as possible.”
“Urf?” Jack grunted, his mouth dry and throat sore. He felt like he’d been drinking heavily for about a week and was only now drying out.
“That’s the transportation effects. They didn’t design it for humans and we don’t handle it well. The sickness will go away,” she explained.
Her voice was pleasant enough, smooth and almost husky. She had an American accent. Not the southern one with the twangs and the y’alls, something more correct. He tried to turn his head to look at her but found he could not see her. What’s worse, he was confined in some type of chair or bed or…something.
Jack struggled, trying to push himself free of whatever it was that bound him. Within moments he realized he was truly immobilized. He was strapped down securely, but at least the device he was on was padded. Multiple straps held him, two on each arm and three across his back at different points. Even his neck was strapped, keeping his head snug to the table. What disturbed him were the straps that held his lower body. Each thigh was held by two of them, and two more held his calves.
None of those straps were nearly as disconcerting to him as the position his body was forced to mold itself into. His ass was up in the air, legs spread. What was worse was that enough feeling had returned that he knew without a doubt he was naked.
“Try to relax,” she said again, a tremor in her voice. “I really hate doing this the first time… you’re scared, confused… I know. I guess it’s not any better any other time, but at least you’ll know what’s going to happen then.”
“What the bloody hell are you doing to me?” Jack gasped, his voice raspy.
“An Englishman? Oh, we don’t have many like you here. Somebody once told me the English are more into this sort of thing. I’m sure it’s just a stereotype though,” she said. She sounded surprised and a little excited, or at least happier. “Now hush and let me do this. The sooner it’s over the better.”
Jack struggled again, to no effect, then stiffened in surprise when he felt something cool touch his bottom. Her fingers were rubbing something against him. His cheeks immediately flushed red with embarrassment, but he struggled anew as soon as he realized what she was doing.
“Relax,” she murmured, putting pressure against him slowly.
Jack tried to resist. He clenched every muscle he had. He squeezed and tried to tear himself away, but ultimately it just made the pressure she was exerting that much more painful for him. Whatever substance she used to lubricate her fingers made resistance futile.
Teeth gritted against the humiliation, he felt one digit enter his rectum and press against him internally. She was an expert, he realized, as she found what she was after immediately and began to stroke her finger inside of him. The pressure felt horrible at first. Almost painful. It abated and soon began to cause him to stiffen involuntarily. Jack cried out, groaning in misery as he again tried to struggle in spite of her repeated suggestions for him to relax.
A warmth spread through him though he struggled to deny it. He felt something happening, something disgusting and embarrassing. His body shuddered in spite of his intentions, causing him to wet himself slightly. It grew worse as she continued, until, at long last, something powerful swept through him. Jack gasped silently, unable to protest as his body betrayed him. It was the strangest feeling he had ever felt, and even though it felt good he refused to accept it.
His body relaxed on him, all tension gone from his muscles. He struggled to catch his breath and fight, but he didn’t have any strength left in him.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, sounding truly miserable. “I… they make me do it. There’s one milkmaid for every twenty men.”
She wanted to say more, he could tell, but instead she turned and left the odd room he was in. Jack struggled to look around again, but all he saw was the light brown wall and the edge of the strange couch he was trapped upon. He wondered at her term, milkmaid. What did that mean? Was that what she had done to him, milked him?
The straps released on their own, leaving him suddenly free. He picked himself up slowly and looked around. The room was featureless. Every wall identical in color, all a pale tan. The light came from nowhere and everywhere, leaving no shadows. The only thing in the room was himself and the strange couch. He looked at it again, burning it into his memory with just a glance. A glance that, he was sure, would visit him in his nightmares.
When he turned again he saw that the wall had opened. Not the entire thing, just a portion of it that was sized perfectly for him to walk through. Having no other options, he stepped through and found himself in a larger room filled with beds. Not beds like he was accustomed to, but beds nonetheless. They were thin pads on the floor with a single blanket on top of them. The pad was molded in such a shape that at one end it had a pillow.
“You must be Harry’s replacement,” a deeply tanned man said. He walked up to him and offered his hand.
Jack did a double take. Harry? Replacement?
“Yeah, sorry, that didn’t make sense. Look, I’m Patrick, I’ll introduce you to the guys,” he said, turning to point to the rest of the men who were looking at Jack with a mixture of interest and apathy.
“Sorry, but why are you all naked?” Jack asked, noting the one thing they all had in common.
Patrick smiled sadly. “I been here twenty two years I think, it’s hard to know really, but they don’t give us clothes to wear.”
“They? They who?”
“The giants,” he said, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “They live up there, in their cloud city. The ground’s too dirty or something; it’s beneath them. Anyway, we do their dirty work and they live up there and do… well, whatever it is they do.”
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Jack asked, confused and wondering when he would wake up from the dream.