By Pfantazm

What it is based on is the story of the same name from the Blue Fairy Book (not the Red one, whatever you may have heard), edited by Andrew Lang, but significantly rewritten (though I'm amazed at how much I didn't need to rewrite; go read the original some time).

Fairy tales have queens, magic wands, trolls, talking bears, and, every once in a while, fairies. I've never heard of one with a magic condom tree, so these characters had to do without. (How would you ever know they were ripe?) Natural latex is just tree sap, though, so we do have them here. Use a condom when you make your magic happen.

To read more of my writing, well, first read this story, then the rest on www.pridesites.com/pfantazm/index.html . You can also write me at [email protected] .

	The knock was strange, as though someone were knocking with the points of a rake. The knock had to be loud, to be heard over the raging storm outside. `Probably some traveller, trapped out away from the road,' the housewife thought to herself. She braced herself and tugged at the rough door, which stuck when it was wet out. It was a brown bear. The housewife grabbed her broom leaning near the door and screamed. The farmer and several children rushed over to see what was wrong. The housewife moved to strike. The bear growled something that sounded like "Please." The woman froze. She looked closely at the bear for the first time. It was wearing a thin brown cloak, holey and patched from where branches and brambles had torn it. The bear stood on his hind legs, but only waited, not even with a paw up to block a vicious broom handle. "May I come in?" it - he, growled. The woman looked to her husband. Well, he had knocked. She stood back, and the bear lumbered in out of the rain. The tiny house filled with the smell of wet fur. "Would you like to sit down?" the housewife offered warily. The bear looked at the rickety wooden chair by the fire. It would never support his weight. Instead the bear sat, as any would, upright on his backside, his lower paws splayed under him. "Would you like something to drink?" the housewife asked. By now the rain barrel should be more than full.... "No, thank you," came the rumbling reply. "I have come to make you a proposal. Where is your eldest son, Shea?" The farmwife glanced to her husband. "Fixin' a fence," he said. "In such a storm as this?" "Needs doin'." "He should be here. My proposal involves him." The housewife patted one of her younger sons' shoulders. "Richie, go and fetch your brother. Quickly, now." The young boy ran, barefoot and without a coat, out onto the rough track to the fields. "What do you want with Shea?" the farmer asked. "I have seen him, and I think he may be able to help me," the bear replied. He felt something touch his leg. The bear looked down and saw a little girl, no older than five, with one hand's fingers in her mouth and the other stroking his sodden fur. The mother rushed over and scooped up her daughter. "Anna, no! You leave that - leave the nice bear be." Anna grinned, still staring at the animal. "It's quite alright," the bear growled amiably. It was hard to tell, what with the bear's dark features and the poorly lit room, but the farmer would bet the bear was smiling. Moments later, more children ran into the small shack, including the boy sent out a few minutes ago, and the young man the bear knew as Shea. He'd seen him - "watched him" would be more accurate - on those days when he risked coming here. He would look out upon the potato field where he usually worked, crouched in hiding in the bush. It had been a run of luck that he hadn't been chased off, or actively hunted, for venturing out in this form. At night Shea slept here, inside this hovel, when he dared not come spying, despite the advantages of travelling after dark.... The youth stared at him, as though his brother had told him there was a bear in their house, but Shea hadn't believed him. He was beautiful. The beast sat forward, setting his forepaws on the floorboards so that none could see his excitement. As he did so, the humans instinctively stepped backward. All except for Shea. Perhaps there was hope. "Hello, Shea," the bear said, in a voice as human as he was capable of. "Hello," said the stunned young man. "The proposal I have for you, good folk, is this. I have the magical means to make you as rich as you are now poor. Over the course of one week, your lives will be changed for the better. You will have a larger house, more land, and gold enough to hire hands to help you tend it, or to tend it for you if you so choose. You will never want for anything again. "All I ask in return is that Shea comes to stay with me. He may even come and visit for a day, but the nights he must spend in my home." Shea's mother looked frightened. His father shifted his gaze between his son and the bear. "I assure you that he will never come to any harm so long as he is in my care, and he will live and eat well. There is no need to worry about his safety. As you can hear, I am no common forest creature." Shea spoke for his family. "Must we decide now?" "No," rumbled the bear. "This is a difficult decision, and it should not be made in haste. One week from now, at midday, I will come again to your cottage for an answer. If you do not return with me, Shea, I will not come back." "One week," he repeated. "I will think about it." The housewife started at this. "Until then," the bear said, and he got to his paws, still awkwardly trying to cover himself. The farmer opened the door for his guest. The bear exited. Shea saw the bear run soon after he left the shack, but the forest around his home was so thick, an animal so big as that couldn't run through the trees. Even so, when Shea looked out the door, the bear was nowhere to be seen. That week was full of arguments, and of chores refused to be done. His mother would not give in. She believed that Shea should not go. Shea argued that he was old enough to decide for himself, and that the family needed the money. There would be no reason to suffer any longer. His mother countered that they would suffer if anything happened to him. Shea's father kept himself distant from the argument. He agreed with Shea; it really should be his decision, he thought. The boy - young man, was old enough. On the other hand, he was not fool enough to directly contradict his wife. Not when it came to the safety of her children. She could be quite stubborn, and the only way to survive times like this was simply to let her talk herself out. By the time the day finally came she still had not done so. Shea had packed his things, and his mother had unpacked them. She spent nights crying. She was crying again when the bear returned for Shea, and she knew he was going with it. Shea kissed his mother and father goodbye and went out into the glade surrounding his home. He carried with him a sack containing his few belongings, and he wore his best clothes, though even they were ragged and patched. The bear stood on all fours and eyed him. "Are you afraid?" he growled. "I'm not," Shea replied, his voice steady enough. The bear made some deep grunting noises. Was he laughing? "We shall see. Climb onto my back. We have far to travel this day." Shea walked up to the bear and awkwardly sat himself astride the bear's wide body. "Keep tight hold of my cape. We can't have you falling off." The young man held onto the old cape loosely with one hand. "Ready? Here we go," said the bear and he walked forward. He was headed into the trees again. The bear sped up. He was running faster than an animal that size should have been able to go. Shea wondered how it could be, but wisely gripped the cape with both hands until his knuckles were white. The ride got shakier as the bear prepared to leap... ...and the forest was gone. The air above the clouds was very chill. His rags were not enough to keep him warm. He wished his winter coat wasn't packed in his sack. Shea rode with his knees tight against the beast's body and his chest against his back. He dared not try to pull the coat out - his hands were holding onto the cape, and he might drop the sack tucked under his own stomach, or he might fall off altogether. The bear continued to run. He could feel the beast's limbs moving as they flew high in the sky. `How can he run when the ground is so far below?' he wondered. If the bear were running across the tops of the clouds, that would make sense. Shea found he didn't understand any of it and just held on. It felt like they rode for hours. They arrived at a mountain peak that jutted up through the clouds. The sun was setting, turning everything orange and red. Shea thought the clouds, usually puffy, white and calm, looked angry, and more like the pitching seas the mummers would tell tales about. The mountaintop had been carved into a fortress, and the look of it in sunset colours frightened Shea. He wondered if they would be attacked. They landed safely and quietly, though, and no soldiers came to capture them. Shea slid down off the bear's back and looked around. The stronghold was enormous, with its towers and walkways and buildings. It was bigger than anyplace Shea had dreamed of. "Welcome to my home," said the bear. The bear led the way to a dining room in a regal hall. Everything seemed covered in silver and gold. The ceilings were high enough that Shea and the bear could go flying again, and intricate tapestries hung down along the walls. The dining table could seat hundreds, it seemed to Shea, and there was more food than he could eat in a day. `This is just like a castle in a story,' Shea thought in awe, `but where are all the people?' "Sit down and eat, Shea," said the bear. "Have as much as you like." Shea looked over the table and pulled out one of the chairs. "When you are done, you will find a silver bell over on the mantle. Ring it, and anything you wish will be yours." The bear turned to leave the room. "Won't you stay and eat?" asked Shea. "I can't. There is something I must do." The bear did not look back. "Wait!" Shea cried as the bear hurried to the door. The young man chased after him. He heard the bear mutter, "It's later than I thought...." The beast ran, not as he ran into the forest by Shea's house, but at a lope, the way a bear would normally run. "Wait! I don't even know your name!" "I am Magnus," the bear called as he turned the corner. When Shea got there, the bear had disappeared again. Shea ate from the table: meats and bread, cheese and fruit and cakes. He wanted to try everything, but soon he was full. 'Perhaps,' Shea thought, 'Magnus will come back to eat later.' The farmer's son waited, but Magnus did not return. Shea began to get sleepy. He wondered how he was going to find a place to sleep when he remembered the bell. He picked up the little round bell and shook it. The bell had barely begun to ring when everything went dark. When Shea could see again, he was in another room. This room, an apartment, was just as lavishly furnished as the dining hall was. There was an intricately crafted rug in front of the fireplace, which was not lit. The couches nearby were upholstered with fabric much like the rug, and they were wide and soft. There was a wardrobe against the opposite wall that was full of fine clothing, and it all seemed to be his size. The moon was up, and Shea could see the clouds that surrounded the mountaintop out the balcony door, white and fluffy. The sky was full of stars. There was one door, which led into a hallway, and another, simpler, one in the corner. Shea didn't want to venture out into the fortress. He could get lost and not find his way back to this room. He could use the bell again, but it was obviously very powerful, and Shea did not want to waste it. The other door led to a bathroom, with a large stone tub. He'd heard that kings and queens took baths with hot water rather than washing in the river. He wondered what it would be like. He fingered the bell handle. 'It wouldn't be such a waste,' Shea reasoned. 'After all, I haven't bathed, and I'll not find a river here in the clouds.' Shea rang the bell. The stone tub began to fill up by itself, the water coming in through the cracks between the stones. The water looked steamy, and Shea worried that he might be cooked like soup. He tested it with his fingertips. The water was only warm, not boiling, and Shea began to undress. He shrugged out of his rags, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Shea sat on the edge, and dipped a toe, then a foot, then slowly sank his thin, but strong body into the bathwater. 'Ohhh, this feels good. Relaxing,' Shea thought, 'not chill and sharp like the river.' He lay back and let himself soak. He noticed a cake of soap on the side of the tub. Shea was sure it had not been there when he made his wish. How long had it been there? 'No matter,' he said to himself, and he set to work scrubbing himself clean. There were two problems with a bath that Shea had not had to deal with in the creek back home. First, the water, being still, didn't wash the soap away, so he had to rinse with dirty, soapy water. Secondly, he had no idea how he was going to empty the bath now that he was done. He hoped his wish would take care of it. He stepped out of the tub - and his clothes were gone. That wasn't what he'd wanted when he'd rung the bell. A towel had appeared but he couldn't very well walk around the fortress with just that. Then Shea remembered the wardrobe. If those clothes fit, then he'd have something to wear. This was a lesson though. He'd have to be more careful about using the bell. The bell! It had been in his pocket. Shea dried off, then boldly strode into the bedchamber, with the towel in his hand. His clothes weren't there, but the silver bell sat on the table beside the bed. Shea sighed relief, and he left it there. He would not use the bell again that night. He looked more closely into the wardrobe, and saw that those clothes were still there. The bell was not scheming to keep him nude. Among the various garments was a nightshirt. Shea left it there. He slept in the raw. Shea thought it was about that time, too. He'd had a long journey and it was late. He turned down the bed. Once the lamp was blown out and the room was dark, Shea climbed into bed. It was wonnnnnderful. The mattress was so comfortable, and the pillow was so soft, it was like sleeping on one of the clouds outside the window. Just as he was drifting off, Shea felt movement behind him. Someone was climbing into the bed. "Shea?" asked a deep voice. It sounded familiar, but different somehow. "Magnus?" "I hope you don't mind...." That was it. It was the bear's voice, but without the growl. What he heard was a resonant bass. Shea rolled over to face Magnus. He could feel a nightshirt, and from the way he was moving around, the bear was much lighter. Shea laid a hand on him. He wasn't a bear! He was shaped like a man. Shea was too tired to think about it. "I don't mind," he said, and he rolled back over. Magnus moved closer and laid an arm over the farmboy, and Shea snuggled against Magnus' chest. The next morning Shea found the kitchen before he found Magnus. When he awoke, he was alone. He washed his face - whether Magnus had left a washbowl of warm water for him, or whether his wish from last night was still trying to please him, he couldn't know - and looked around for him. Shea called his name many times. His clothes hadn't come back, so he looked into the wardrobe and found a shirt and trousers that fit. There were other, more fancy, clothes, but Shea didn't feel right about borrowing those. The farmboy ventured out into the fortress. The little silver bell was in his pocket. 'I'm not using it unless I get hopelessly lost,' he thought. 'It's too dangerous.' In wandering around, Shea discovered several things. First, the fortress was huge. There were rooms enough that it would take Shea an eternity to search them all. And that was before he left the building where he was staying. Second, there were no people anywhere. Shea had thought that in a castle such as this - that was how Shea thought of it - there would be noblemen and their wives, servants, soldiers (Wouldn't a fortress have even more soldiers than a castle?), and so on, but Shea never encountered a soul. He also learned, third, that there had likely been lots of people once. Shea wandered outside and found some houses, for people related to the castle, he guessed. They had all the usual things: furniture, cupboards full of dishes, wardrobes full of clothes, children's toys. They reminded Shea of home. The houses seemed to be abandoned, as though the people had just dropped everything and left. Soon he returned to the castle, before he lost track of where it was, and found the kitchen. He made himself breakfast as best he could. There was no lack of supplies, from wood for the stove to fresh milk and cream. Shea stopped asking himself where you could chop trees or leave a cow to graze on a mountaintop. There was no sensible answer, so why ask the question? After exploring the empty building for most of the day, he found a large room, filled floor to ceiling with books. Shea had no idea there were so many books in all the world! The bindings were wood and leather dyed many colours, and the shelves on which they sat were all different sizes to accommodate tall books, and not waste space for short ones. Shea couldn't read, so he could only imagine what stories might be inside. The room was deep enough that it turned a corner. Around the bend in the library there was a stand for a book to be left open and read. Standing at it was Magnus, but he had returned to being a bear. Magnus began to mutter and Shea's hair stood on end all along his arms and legs. A bright golden light made Shea turn away and shield his eyes. There was a high-pitched keening that Shea couldn't quite hear, but he felt in his ears. When it was over, Shea heard Magnus curse. Shea looked back, but nothing seemed different. The bear turned to him. "Shea. I didn't realize you were there." Magnus smiled and stepped down from the lectern. "How are you doing?" "I'm well. I've been spending the day looking around. Where is everyone?" Magnus' smile weakened a little. "Everyone?" "The people who live here. This place is so large and grand, I find it hard to believe it's all yours." "It's not...." Magnus chose his next words carefully. "The people left. I hope that they will soon be able to come back." "Is that what you were doing? Trying to help them with your magic?" Magnus grinned again. "I suppose that's true. If I succeed, the people will come back. Now no more questions about them. I'm afraid I've told you all I can." Shea's eyes sparkled. "You must be a very powerful wizard, indeed!" Magnus laughed. "Wizard? No, I'm only learning. I can't even claim to be an apprentice." He looked to the lectern, then back again. "I've had my fill of it for the day. What would you like to do?" "Would you read me a story from one of these books?" "You like stories, Shea?" "Yes! It's my favourite time of year when the troubadour visits the village near the farm. We've never missed it." "Then let's go into the study and I'll tell you tales." They spent the afternoon in front of the window, looking out over the clouds, and Shea listened to every fairy story Magnus knew. When the sun started to set, though, Magnus excused himself and disappeared just as he had the day before. Shea found the dining room himself, where another sumptuous dinner was waiting. When his meal was done, Shea was forced to ring the bell again to get to the bedroom. By the time he had bathed, the moon had risen and the room was dark. Shea climbed into bed nude as was his way. And he waited. Soon enough, he felt Magnus join him in the bed. Shea rolled over to face and laid a hand on his arm. It was hairy, not furry. He was human once more. "I was hoping you'd come again," Shea said. "I'm glad," said Magnus. Shea's fingers found a sleeve. "Why do you wear a shirt to bed?" "Why do you wear nothing? It's what I am accustomed to." "Doesn't it get tangled up in the night when you roll over?" "Sometimes." "Then why not take it off?" "I don't think--" Shea pulled up the tail of the shirt, and something solid and warm hit his thigh. The farmboy touched it. Slowly, the older man touched Shea in the same place, and he hardened in Magnus' hand. Shea ran his other hand under the nightshirt across Magnus' thickly hairy chest. Magnus pulled him close and they kissed. Shea discovered his host had a moustache and beard. Their bodies twisted together as one as their lust rose. Magnus wrestled his way out of the nightshirt and tossed it onto the floor. The two men clutched at each other, Magnus' hairy body scratching against Shea's smooth skin. The man-bear rolled over Shea and hovered just above him. He kissed down the farmboy's neck to his chest and his hair brushed lightly against Shea's flesh, making his body sing with sensation. Shea gasped in air as Magnus' bristly mouth and chin nuzzled his sensitive stomach and abdomen. Magnus' fingers caressed his guest's sides. The young man's body was healthy and strong from the demands of farm life, and his body nearly fully developed. Shea's chest rose and fell sharply because of his excitement. And when Magnus slipped the farmboy's cock into his mouth and licked him, he lost all control. He sat up and yelped, "Oh, oh, oh!" as he came into Magnus' mouth. When he was done, Shea collapsed onto the pillows and Magnus crawled up beside him. Magnus tenderly stroked Shea's face as his breathing returned to normal. The younger man felt along Magnus' arm and shoulder to find his face in the darkness. He cradled it in his palm before approaching for a kiss. Their bodies drew close once more, and they rolled back and forth, grinding into each other. They came to rest with Shea on top, and he began to kiss and nuzzle his way down Magnus' body. The older man settled back and enjoyed it. When Shea found his nipple and amid all the hair, the bear-man rumbled his approval. His big hands came to rest on Shea's slender waist and hips while he devoured Magnus' chest. Soon enough, Shea's hands roamed down Magnus' body, seeking his manhood. In the total dark, it was the only way to find it. Shea felt the tightness of Magnus' stomach, the soft skin of his hips, the strength of his legs and the wiry curls of the hair around his crotch. The side of his hand bumped into Magnus' cock, straight and hard. Shea kneeled over it and took it in both hands. Its length and girth were impressive, daunting. The young man thought that his own must surely be smaller. Magnus felt in Shea's grip that his hands were shaking. He sat up carefully, and took Shea into his arms. "This is your first time, in matters of the bedroom?" Shea nodded timidly, then remembered Magnus could not see him, and whispered a hoarse yes. "It's quite alright. You need not do a thing." "I - I want to." Magnus' fingers read the contours of Shea's face. He kissed the young man on the cheek, tenderly. He helped him to his knees and he could feel Shea's breath on his face. Magnus' fingertips tripped, bouncing, down Shea's smooth skin until it reached his crotch. He waited. Shea's hand found Magnus' shoulder, then travelled across his furry chest and down to Magnus' crotch. The bear-man's hand held Shea's cock, which was hard again. Shea's hand slipped beneath his host's member, and cradled it. Slowly, and with a feather touch, Magnus began to stroke the organ in his hand. Shea groaned, his cock aching with fullness and desire. The younger man remembered himself and mimicked the action on Magnus. In time Magnus sped up, as did Shea, and gradually the farmboy gained his confidence. They manhandled each other, using their leaking juices to speed their way. Magnus stopped and rolled to his side before Shea, his head in the younger man's lap. He continued stroking him while he waited for him to follow. There was no thought to whether he would; Magnus simply knew it would happen. Sure enough, Shea's cock turned in his hand as he got in position. The youth's breathing quickened. Magnus ceased his manual pleasures and wrapped his lips about the head of Shea's penis, just letting it rest inside. After a moment's pause, Magnus felt a wet heat on his own manhood. The bear-man licked, and so did Shea. He took more into his mouth, and Shea copied. Magnus kissed and nuzzled the balls before him, and got the same in return. And now Shea was sucking him without coaching, taking to it as naturally as a bird to the air, and needing to be cautioned just twice, "No teeth." What Shea's technique lacked for experience was made up for with the spirit of youth and Magnus was groaning appreciation around a throatful of farmboy. Shea, on the other hand, was silent through their lovemaking. The only noise was when, after an agonizingly long time, Magnus' talents finally brought him to release. As he burst forth, Magnus lapped the young man's essence down. Magnus almost expected him to stop after he came, but Shea eagerly sucked on Magnus' cock even then. The bear-man grinned in the dark. "Don't tire yourself out," he warned. "I'm not as young as you. I'll take longer." Shea nursed on Magnus' member, drinking the sticky, bittersweet syrup he leaked out, until, at last, Magnus cried out for Shea to make ready, and he tasted semen for the first time. It came out in a gush, filling his mouth again and again. Shea swallowed almost all of it, missing only a few drops out of the corner of his mouth. The young man let go of Magnus and licked his lips. Magnus gathered him into his arms and kissed his forehead. "Thank you. That was wonderful." Shea smiled broadly. "Thank you." He yawned. "Let's get some sleep now, my sweet one." They settled in, Shea spooned inside Magnus' arms and they slept. When Shea awoke, though, he was alone again.

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