Misfit Trials

Chapter 25

At first, Rumpelstilzchen set out full of hope. Rumpelstilzchen had been given a chance to find his son! In his admittedly very limited understanding of magic, Rumpelstilzchen had thought that the babe wouldn't have gone far. Atalantes had told Rumpelstilzchen that he would feel a spark, a pull towards the babe and know that the babe belonged to Rumpelstilzchen.

Rumpelstilzchen searched the villages near Atalantes's house, looking for anyone who had a young babe, one that had been born within the year. But he didn't find the child. He was malnourished and weak from his grief over losing Marta and his family turning their backs on him. Though he was in the prime of his life, he struggled to travel from town to town, needing several days of rest to recover between each.

Several times, doctors within those towns tried to get him to rest and recuperate in their town, but he refused. He had to continue on his path, making his way to find his son. It wasn't until his old horse collapsed from exhaustion and starvation that Rumpelstilzchen admitted defeat. He lay on the side of the road, unable to move because of his own exhaustion, unable to cry because of dehydration, unable to sleep because of severe hunger pangs. Maybe Atalantes would take pity on the child when he found out that Rumpelstilzchen had died. Let the child grow and thrive instead of constantly moving from babe to babe.

If only there was a way to tell Atalantes of his death, Rumpelstilzchen would be full-filled. But there wasn't much he could do about it now. He laid beside the dead and freezing horse on the forest-floor, snow falling from the heavens and through the bare canopy above.

Rumpelstilzchen could imagine what this wood would look like in full bloom. Similar to the wood behind his house with Marta. The thick canopy would fill the wood with a heavy shadow, giving an escape from the oppressive summer heat, but the movement of the leaves in the breeze would send random spots of light through the gloom. It would be the perfect place to rest during the mid-day after working all morning. Or for lovers to meet.

He imagined Marta, her body in full healthy, her mind not yet fractured from her desperation for a child, finding him in the wood. She would lean over him, kissing him away from his doze.

"My love, what are you doing out here? Did you not think that your loving wife would want to keep you company?" Marta would croon to him. She would lay over him, finding his manhood within his pants, coaxing him to wakefulness.

"Marta..." It was almost as if he was saying it in real life, as if his dreaming were happening in waking life. He thought that he heard an echo of his own voice when he spoke. And the echo of a rougher, higher pitched, almost childlike voice when Marta spoke.

But then, she kissed him and he refused to think too much on it. This was his beautiful wife. And if he could only have her in his dreams, then that was where he would have her.

Marta, kissing him passionately, pushed his pants down and made to mount him.

"Wait! I have to see you. All of you. I miss your skin against mine!" he pleads and he feels the faint trace of tears running down his cheeks, though his skin is dry and warm in the summer light of his dream.

Marta smiles down at him seductively. "And what would you give me to see my body?"

"Anything, liebling. Name it and it's yours," Rumpelstilzchen moans as her wet center rubs against his erection.

"Anything? Would you give me all the riches that you can find? All the riches that you can make?" Marta asks, that odd overlay of her voice and the other becoming sharper as she asks this.

"Yes!" Rumpelstilzchen cries in desperation.

Marta smiles and, in the magic of dreams, their clothes are gone. The feeling of Marta's skin against his causing pleasure to blossom over his skin wherever they touch. Rumpelstilzchen moans and Marta smiles down at him in a possessive and smugly satisfied manner that she never had in real life.

Rumpelstilzchen revels in the feeling of her skin, running his rough and calloused hands over her teats, rear and stomach, unable to get enough of her. All the while, Marta continues to rub herself on his erection, working him to a frenzy.

"Marta! I need you," Rumpelstilzchen cries, attempting to lift her hips so that he can drive into her.

But she refuses to allow him inside of her, making him groan and plead. That same seductive smile and overlay of voices comes over her as she says, "What will you give me to join your body with mine?"

"Whatever you want, liebling. Please!" Rumpelstilzchen begs.

"Will you give me your youth and humanity?" Marta asks.

"All I am is yours," Rumpelstilzchen says, his words turning into a deep groan as Marta grabs his manhood and sinks herself onto him. Though her skin feels the same against his and her face and body looks the same, there is something different about being with her in this dream land. The look in her eyes is calculating and cold, her smile is smug and condescending, nothing like Marta in real life.

But Rumpelstilzchen is so overcome by the feeling of her, he can't focus on those things. He is too busy riding the wave of pleasure that she is giving him that he can't watch her eyes, instead closing his eyes as his hands and body feel her.

He rolled in the grass, putting her beneath him and began losing himself in her body, touching and tasting her how she had always loved it. He barely noticed that she wasn't responding with the same enthusiasm as she used to, that her moans and cries sounded more prefunctory than real. Like a mimic of the real thing. He was too busy enjoying himself, living this dream before he died.

"Marta! I am...I am..." Rumpelstilzchen moans.

Marta's cold, calculating, sinister smile widens. "Give me your life essence, Rumpelstilzchen. Give me all of it!"

And he lets go inside of her, his body stiffening and contracting as he releases, over and over, and over again. It's almost a never ending finish to their romping, the most intense and exquisitely torturous pleasure he's ever felt.

When he finally relaxes, he falls on top of Marta, not even able to hold his weight off of her. She doesn't seem to mind, though, as he tries to come back to himself.

"Liebling...that was amazing! I love you so much," Rumpelstilzchen pants into her ear.

"Enough to give me your soul?" Marta croons into his ear.

"Yes, liebling, you have all of me. I'm am yours, mind, body, and soul," Rumpelstilzchen says, kissing her neck and starting to move off of her.

But she holds him to her, one hand around his back, the other digging her fingernails into his neck. Rumpelstilzchen feels himself harden again, his manhood already being inside of her. Marta's fingernails bite into his neck, drawing blood, but it's almost like he's been possessed and can't stop his hips from moving inside of her.

"That's it! Give me all of you!" she cries and her voice becomes less like Marta's and more animalistic, more primal.

Before Rumpelstilzchen's eyes, the summer scene fades away, the true winter that he was dying in coming back. As Marta rolls him over, her hips dancing beneath him, her vestige morphs into that of beast, a demon. Her skin grows fiery red, her receding and disappearing as he watches. Her mouth is full of sharp teeth and, as he watches her hideous smile, a forked tongue flicks out and licks her lip.

An imp! It's not Marta, it's an imp. A demon of the underworld, mischievous and malevolent. And a female at that, rare and hideous.

As much as he wishes it would stop, he can't stop the rising orgasm that is being pulled from me. He cries out in terror, but also pleasure, his body warring with his mind.

The imp continues to grin at him, unintelligible words pouring from its mouth. Then, as his completion finds him, the imp bends down and sucks at the blood that is pouring from his neck. And then the world goes black.