My attempt at Bboy's story. Bboy has done a brilliant job looking after and upgrading these archives and I for one appreciate it. Merry Christmas Bboy
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Magic Soup by Kortpeel ____________________________________________________________________ _______ Once upon a time there was an old wood-cutter. He lived in a cottage in the forest with his lazy good-for-nothing son, Hans, who was a continual source of anxiety for him. The son was a big uncouth ill-mannered fellow who seldom washed, avoided work and who jerked off a lot. The only exercise he ever got was walking into the village of an evening where he'd hustle drinks in the pub, get blind drunk and fall asleep under a tree. He'd arrive home after his dad had set off for work, sleep all day and get up in time for a bite and a wank before going off to the pub again. One day the old wood cutter set off early for work. He had a special task that day: to fell the oldest oak tree in the forest. The king wanted it for panelling in the royal castle. His only child Princess Priscilla, was soon to marry Prince Bonehorn, heir to the neighbouring kingdom of Legover and the king wanted them to have a really nice apartment in the castle. The marriage was important to Priscilla's father, King Puffalot. The marriage would cement an alliance between the two kingdoms ending forever the frequent wars and conflicts between them. Prince Bonehorn would one day rule over both kingdoms. The old woodcutter knew nothing about the affairs of state as he stood in front of the ancient gnarled oak. He just knew that this was one bloody great tree and he was going to have to bust his gut to cut the damned thing down. The mere prospect made his sciatica play up. To gain time he pissed against the tree. "Hey! Do you mind?" It was a tiny, tinkly voice but it sounded angry. "Now I'm all wet," complained a second, similar voice. "Stop it this instant." The old woodcutter didn't have the control to stop his flow so he tried to deflect it. All he achieved was to piss over his boots and down his leg. Two little creatures, barely six inches tall, emerged from a crack in the tree trunk. "Serves you right," said the first one who saw the wet marks. "Oh! Er good morning young Sirs." The old woodcutter knew forest fairies when he saw them and knew not to mess with them. They could be really unpleasant if provoked. "So why are you pissing on our tree?" "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there." "Course you didn't. We were invisible." "Me and Dicky always like to be invisible when we're-" "Shut up Randy. It's none of his business what we were doing." Obviously Dicky was the dominant one. "You had no right to piss on our tree whether you could see us or not." "No." The wood cutter knew better than to argue with forest fairies. "I'm very sorry sir. I won't er piss on your tree again." "I should hope not indeed," said Randy. "In any case what are you doing here, by our tree?" Dicky asked. "Beggin' your pardon sir but I 'm here to chop it down." "Aww!" cried Randy. "You can't put your big chopper into our tree." "On whose authority?" Dicky wanted to know. "The king's." "Hmm." Dicky became thoughtful. Politics in fairy tale kingdoms often become very complicated. He knew full well that King Puffalot had a non-intervention pact with Titania, the Queen of the Fairies. The aim was peaceful co-existence. Humans took umbrage when they were the victims of magic fairy spells. They were apt to take retaliatory action which had often escalated to dangerous levels. The pact had worked well and Dicky knew it would do him no good at all to break it. "These are the king's trees Sir." The woodcutter was trying to be placatory. "I know the pact says you have the full and unrestricted use of the forest but if the king wants one his trees cut down I just have to do what I'm told." "Yeah yeah," Randy said sardonically. "We know: more than your head's worth not to." Dicky who was a fairy of the world and who knew something about achieving objectives and the art of the deal asked "What are your exact instructions about cutting down this tree, Mr.Wood Cutter?" "The king said the biggest oldest oak in the forest." Dicky adopted a look of concern for the woodcutter. "I see. Then you have a problem." "Yeah. To cut down this tree. I ought to get started." "The king did say the oldest oak in the forest?" "The oldest." "Then it's not this one. That one over there is older than this by a hundred years." Dicky pointed to another tree. It wasn't as big as the first one but it may well have been older. And it was still a fine big tree. "Well, I'm sure the king meant this one." Dicky recognised that mulish stubbornness that you sometimes get with people who aren't very bright. They seize on to the one thing they understand and stick with it. "I don't think so. It's up to you of course but I don't think the king's going to be pleased that you cut down the wrong tree." Now the wood cutter was worried. Which tree was he meant to cut down? The biggest or the oldest? He stood there scratching his balls in puzzlement. "That tree will be a lot less work to cut down." "Got nothin' to do with it," grunted the wood cutter. Except of course it had a lot to do with it and Dicky knew that. It was time for the clincher. "Tell you what: if you pick that one and leave ours, I'll grant you a free wish." "Wouldn't hurt to have a look at It." The old wood cutter ambled over to the other tree. As it happened his good-for-nothing son Hans was asleep under it. The wood cutter gave Hans a kick and told him to get up. "Ok," he said to Dicky. "For a free wish you got a deal." **************************** Princess Priscilla at 16 had led a very sheltered life. She had hardly ever been outside the royal castle. She was so looking forward to meeting her Prince from Legover. Everyone said he was very handsome. She wondered what it would be like to make love with royalty. Would it be different from screwing the gardener's boys behind the compost heap? She loved the way their body odour blended with the smell of the compost Or shagging the stonemasons up in the tower? She quivered at the thought of their hard rough hands sliding over her skin. Or would her Prince be exciting like the butcher's boy as his cleaver cut its way through flesh and bone? The very thought made her go all moist down there and as she was close to the carpenters' workshop she got the apprentice carpenter to play that enjoyable game of mortise and tenon with her. **************************** Prince Bonehorn on the other hand wasn't all that enthusiastic about meeting Priscilla. Word was she was somewhat on the plump side. And she was silly and naïve too. That was a problem. He wanted her to understand how important his friendship with Cedric was to him. Ah dear Cedric. Where would a prince be without his Cedric? Well for a start his hair would be a mess. Cedric was, by appointment, the Royal Hairdresser and he had such a wonderful way with Bonehorn's long curly golden locks. As Prince Bonehorn had often been heard to remark "Nobody does it quite like Cedric." *************************** Hans found a comfortable tree and lay back against it. He was totally buggered after his old man had made him cut down the oak tree. He was sweating like a pig and ached all over. "Fair enough," Dicky said to the woodcutter, surveying the felled oak. "So what's your wish? The usual? Gold and diamonds, rubies and emeralds? Wealth beyond the dreams of avarice?" The wood cutter was thinking. "I would like -" "To be irresistibly attractive to women?" Dicky suggested. "Just think. You could have any woman you fancied. If you like that sort of thing." "Naah. Bugger that. No. point. I haven't been able to get it up in years. "We can fix that too," Randy said. The wood cutter shook his head. "My wish is that young Hans yonder makes something worthwhile of his life. Becomes someone important in the land." Sensing an audience Hans leant slightly to one side, lifted his right buttock off the ground, and farted. The forest bluebells and primroses downwind closed their petals in self defence. A dragonfly, taken by surprise, spun out of control to the ground. "Bloody hell! You don't want much do you?" Dicky exclaimed in dismay. "Take the money," urged Randy. The wood cutter went into mulish obstinacy mode. "No. That's my wish." "Shit!" Dicky saw six months worth of magic gone in one shot. But a deal is a deal. He took a deep breath, concentrated hard, to gather all his magic. The effort made him give off a blue glow. "Don't you just love his special effects?" Randy cried. "Now watch this next bit." The blue glow around Dicky got bigger and brighter then with a sound like a gunshot all the blueness shot across to Hans who had fallen asleep. It wrapped around him and disappeared into him. Dicky, spent, fell back into Randy's waiting arms. Randy gently lowered his friend to the ground to recover. Hans simply continued to sleep, making unpleasant snoring noises. The wood cutter was observing his son. He didn't seem very impressed. ************************************ King Puffalot was not impressed with Prince Bonehorn. He'd tried to look through the foppish exterior hoping to find the qualities needed to be a successful king; namely Machiavellian cunning and Genghis Khan type ruthlessness. All Puffalot found was a foppish interior. "He doesn't have the balls to be king" Puffalot said to his Chief of Security. "There'll be a bloody revolution before his arse touches the throne." "Yes Sire." Baldwyn, Chief of Security, agreed with Puffalot's analysis but did not share the king's concern. There would be tremendous opportunities for self enrichment and personal advancement with a weak king on the throne. The idea of revolution had indeed occurred to Baldwyn but he'd already rejected it. A quick clean coup d'etat would be more effective. ************************************* Princess Priscilla was still trying to suss out Prince Bonehorn. She'd never met anyone quite like him. For a start he was courteous, well mannered and quite charming. He smelt nice and dressed well too. She loved his tall slender elegant shape and his soft gentle hands, his cute arse and the way his calf muscles filled out his hose. He had such lovely hair, and eyelashes to die for over those sweet blue eyes. She wondered if that Cedric chap would do her hair too. Best of all was the intriguing bulge in his cod piece. Oh man! but if that lived up to its promise… She was dying to get a sample of what was making the bulge. ************************************* Prince Bonehorn was as nervous as a kitten. In a few hours he'd be married and he'd have to perform his princely conjugal duties. Priscilla was a lovely warm hearted girl, not overly plump, more … well, just comfortable. But he'd rather he didn't have to … you know. He hated all this royalty business. Having to produce an heir and all. And the politics with those scheming devious ministers. He had this vision of him and Cedric running a nice little hairdressing salon together. He'd much rather do that. They would entertain their friends in the evenings. Well, at least the parade would be good fun. Prince Bonehorn enjoyed parades with all those gorgeous soldiers on horses and waving to the crowds. That was actually the best part of being a prince. Bonehorn knew he was really good at waving to crowds from an open carriage. The trick was to make eye contact with individuals in the crowd and smile at them. That created a good friendly vibe in the crowd and made them cheer. The crowd loved it. They loved him. Prince Bonehorn smiled. He was quite looking forward to the parade. **************************************** Baldwyn was busy. Why wait until the King died to implement his coup? What he needed was a war. In the chaos of war a man with a plan could make anything happen. All he needed was just one little mishap to Prince Bonehorn, a few tersely worded diplomatic ultimata, and the Kingdom of Legover would declare war on Puffalot. The opportunity had arrived. The happy couple and their entourage had to pass through the forest to get to Legover. The forest straddled the border between the two kingdoms. Things could go wrong in the forest. Baldwyn's quill pen scratched out a note to deliver instructions to his man in the forest. ************************************** "I am terribly sorry, your Royal Highnesses," Baldwyn told the royal couple, "but protocol demands that the marriage may not be consummated until after the second ceremony in Legover." "What does that mean?" Priscilla asked. "He's not allowed to fuck you just yet, Highness," Baldwyn explained. "If he did it would be as if the second ceremony didn't count and that would be an insult to Legover. The marriage treaty stated specifically that the marriage would not take effect until ceremonies had occurred in both countries." "Aw shit," thought Priscilla "Oh what a shame," Bonehorn said. "How dreadfully disappointing." "Tomorrow you set out for Legover. It will only be a few more days." ****************************************** "Badger's balls and beaver hair Hymeneal blood from maiden fair Tooth from tortured man in pain Work to make me young again" Arch Witch Malevolence Malfeasance was preparing her rejuvenation potion. She did this every fifty years or so and it had served her well for centuries. She was just about to swallow the foul concoction she'd brewed when there was a fluttering at her cottage window and a carrier pigeon arrived. "Got an urgent message for you, Malevolence. From Baldwyn at the castle." "What's he want then? Don't pretend you haven't read it." "The Royal Couple will be coming through the forest on their way to Legover. He wants you to delay 'em for a few weeks. Just long enough to start a war." "Oh all right." Malevolence owed Baldwyn a favour. He'd supplied the tooth from tortured man in pain. It was always useful to keep a good working relationship with the local mortals, especially one as right thinking as Baldwyn. It suited her to be his man in the forest. Malevolence swallowed her potion and looked fifty years younger immediately. She was actually rather attractive in a sinister kind of way. "What do you think?" she asked the pigeon. "Very nice, darlin'. You can come to my nest anytime." "Don't get cute." Malevolence was pleased with the compliment. "Ok tell Baldwyn it's as good as done." "You'll have to write it. Pigeons can't speak." Malevolence sighed at this tiresome imposition. It embarrassed her that she couldn't spell, not when it came to writing. She was fine with the other kind. ******************************************** Prince Bonehorn had a sore arse. It seemed to him he'd been riding through this forest forever, well at least a fortnight. Was there no end to it? Gosh but he'd be glad to get off this horse. He was looking forward to making camp for the night and being in the tent he shared with Cedric. He loved having Cedric apply that balm to the sore part. It was Cedric who cottoned on first. He'd seen this drunken oaf asleep under a tree earlier. Now, a day's ride further on, here was the same fellow asleep under the SAME TREE. He discussed it with the Captain of the guard. The Captain had seen Hans too but the significance hadn't registered. "You mean sir," said the Captain, a look of horror dawning on his face, we've been bewitched?" "I'm afraid so Captain. We've been riding around the forest in circles." Cedric rather fancied doing his grim hero bit. He was beginning to enjoy himself. It was more fun than just riding a horse through this boring old forest. However Cedric realised that some villainy must be afoot. He called the column to a halt and went to discuss it in private with Bonehorn and Priscilla. "But why?" Prince Bonehorn asked after Cedric had told them the news. "Who can gain by it?" "I think Baldwyn's behind it," Priscilla said. "I've never liked him. He's a dirty old sod. You can't trust him. Even my Dad says so." "What's Baldwyn got in mind then ?" Prince Bonehorn asked. "He's got a top job in the castle." "Perhaps he wants Daddy's job," Priscilla mused. "Bloody hell! If you're right Highness, this is starting to make sense." "What is?" asked Bonehorn. Cedric thought for a moment. Now that he was really thinking he looked even more grim hero than when he was just posturing. It made him so attractive that Bonehorn and Priscilla were distracted from the problem. "Look, if we don't arrive back in Legover as planned what will happen?" "They'll get worried?" Bonehorn suggested. "Damn' right they will. And as time goes by they'll get suspicious. Legover will think Puffalot 's behind it. Puffalot will blame Legover. Then what?" "What?" Priscilla and Bonehorn asked together. "There'll be a bloody war. That's what." "That's terrible." Bonehorn was aghast. "There'll be all horrible killing and everything." "Baldwyn will seize power," Priscilla said. "Dammit. We have to get to Legover urgently. They must already be suspicious. There's no time to lose." "But how do we break the spell, Cedric?" Bonehorn looked dreadfully concerned. Just then a discreet coughed interrupted then. The Captain of the Guard had something to say. "Sir, what you was saying just now about the- er problem we 'ave?" "Yes Captain?" "I took the liberty of bringin' in that lad Sir, the one sleepin' under the tree. He might be able to 'elp us Sir." "Bring him here then." Two soldiers frog-marched Hans forward. Both Bonehorn and Priscilla appraised the lad's bulky form and unknown to each other formed similar opinions. "Yeah, I've seen you all go by every day. I wondered what you was up to but it weren't none o' my business." Cedric's worst fears were confirmed by this intelligence. "Here. Are you the royals who was getting' married? The ones I had to cut that tree down for then?" "That's right," Priscilla told him, taking the opportunity to move closer and get a whiff of his pheromones. "That was a bleedin' game that was," Hans said "My old man peed on the fairies and they was most upset with him. He was gonna cut down their special tree." Bonehorn had got enough of Hans's odour and moved back a step. "What fairies?" "The one's in that tree over there." Hans pointed out the fairies' oak. Prince Bonehorn ran over to the oak. "Hello forest fairies. Are you there?" "Aww, we got a visitor," a tiny tinkling voice said. Priscilla was rather impressed at how well Bonehorn got on with Randy and Dicky. They seemed to have an immediate bonding. Prince Bonehorn explained the problem to them and they listened sympathetically. Dicky summed up when Bonehorn finished speaking. "So you need to break the spell to get to Legover before war breaks out." "Exactly. If there is a war most of it will be in this forest. The destruction will be terrible." "We've got to help them." Poor Randy looked dreadfully concerned. "But we can't. All my magic got used up by that wood cutter's wish." "Then we'll have to tell the Queen. This affects all of us," Randy pointed out. He was beginning to panic. "You're right." Dicky flew off with no further ado. "He won't be long. Look Queen Titania is very sensitive, couldn't you get him cleaned up while we're waiting." Randy nodded toward Hans. As it turned out every one agreed that was a good idea. Even Priscilla. "There's a stream just over there, " Randy pointed out. Priscilla volunteered to take him. And on the grounds that cleaning things was really women's work they all agreed she should. She took soap and towels with her. Queen Titania arrived with her entourage while they were gone. The queen's magician knew exactly what had happened. "This is the work of Malevolence Malfeasance," he pronounced. She's an old witch who lives in this forest. "Can you break the spell?" Cedric asked. The magician shook his head. "Very difficult. She is good you know. Will take a very powerful spell to undo her work." "Remember what will happen if we don't," the Queen reminded him. "Let's see just how strong it is." The magician muttered an incantation and waved his wand. All that happened was he got thrown back against a tree so hard that he had all the breath knocked out him. "S'truth. She's got that well protected, " he muttered as he groggily got back on his feet. "Would you excuse me a moment. I need to do a spot of research." "Quickly then," Titania told him and he flew off to consult his magic library. Later Priscilla came back with Hans. He was much cleaner than when he'd left. That probably would account for the expression of contented satisfaction they both wore. ********************************************************** King Puffalot was worried. The royal party was long overdue in Legover and the diplomatic messages had degenerated from a tone of anxiety to hints of accusations of treachery. The last one said that Legover was taking the non arrival of the royal party in the most serious possible light and retaliatory measures were being considered. "Send 'em a soothing reply" King Puffalot told Baldwyn. "Tell 'em we're as anxious as they are and we are sending a search party to look for them." "Yes Sire." Baldwyn could scarce conceal his glee. His plan was beginning to work. The reply was terse. "In view of your threat we are sending an expeditionary force to our border, purely as a routine defensive measure. " ********************************************************** The fairy magician returned and had a private audience with Queen Titania. They both looked extremely grave. Titania herself spoke to Cedric, Prince Bonehorn and Princess Priscilla. "I'm sorry to tell you but there is no practical way to break the spell." There was an appalled silence. Titania continued. "My messengers report that the armies of both countries are assembling along the border. Already there have been troop movements in other parts of the forest." "Majesty, you say no practical way to lift the spell. Is there any way at all.?" Titania acknowledged Cedric's question. "There is but I am loathe to suggest it. It is not an easy option." "Please tell us," said Bonehorn. Titania took a breath. "According to my magician, the only way to lift the spell is for those who are bewitched to drink a magic soup." "Then let us drink it," cried Bonehorn in relief. "If that's all it takes-" "Sorry, Prince Bonehorn. The problem lies in the key ingredient. It can only be obtained at great sacrifice." "What is needed ?" asked Cedric Titania looked extremely serious. "The full name of the potion is Royal Penis Soup." "Oh!" said Cedric, looking ghastly pale. Priscilla looked at her Prince. He was too numb with shock to speak. She squeezed his hand gently. "So be it," he said after a moment. His voice sounded hoarse. ******************************************* "I'm going to miss my pecker," Prince Bonehorn said as Cedric carefully and lovingly shaved the royal pubic hair. "You don't have to do this, Highness." There were tears in Cedric's eyes as he worked. They hindered him. "I have no option. If there is a war there will be terrible consequences. What's one man's pecker compared to all that carnage?" "He's right," Titania said. "And he's a very brave man." "He's ready," Cedric said. The magician came forward. He looked at Priscilla. "It's much better if he has a good erection. Would you er- " "Allow me," Cedric came forward. "His highness and I are long time friends." Cedric gently, carefully, lovingly fluffed up the royal penis. Priscilla held her prince's hand. "It won't hurt at all," the magician assured Bonehorn. He used his magic fairy wand as the catheter, explaining that it provided the anaesthetic, the blood coagulant and the antiseptic all by magic. Then he produced the knife. Bonehorn shuddered. Cedric wept openly. Princess Priscilla licked her lips and felt that excitement like watching the butcher's boy with his cleaver. Only this was even better. Titania leant over and whispered to her magician. He nodded assent. Priscilla was fascinated as the knife went into the penis. It seemed there was no resistance at all, so sharp was the blade. The cut was right at the root. There wouldn't even be a stump. It came away so easily. The severed penis was placed on a cutting board and diced into small pieces. Priscilla was asked to take the board to the cook who already had the cauldron going over the fire. She tipped the penis parts into the cauldron so that no-one knew what it was. "Well, I've been looking forward to some of this but it isn't going to be what I expected," she told herself. She was still excited by what she'd seen and it occurred to her that Hans should have recovered from his bath by now. Magic can play a major role in surgery. Bonehorn was on his feet already, looking down at his modification. It was as if his penis had never been. The curve of his flat, firm stomach went smoothly down to his scrotum. There was neither scar nor wee hole. "Funny though. I can still feel it and I've still got a hard on." At which point Bonehorn burst into tears and Cedric did his best to console him. "Queen Titania worked some of her own personal magic and has given you a nice wee hole near your arse. Without that you'd have peed all over your balls." Priscilla thought it most intriguing that Bonehorn had no prick. She found she was even beginning to like him like that although she couldn't see why. Not as though he could fuck any more, so he wasn't going to be much of a lover, even though she liked him as a person. So why should it make her moisten up down there? It didn't affect her royal appetite.. She ate her portion of the magic soup with relish. Later they made their arrangements. Prince Bonehorn's noble sacrifice must remain forever secret. That fellow Hans who wasn't quite so objectionable now that he was clean and more smartly dressed was appointed personal attendant to the Princess Priscilla. His duties were to keep his mouth shut and attend to her personal needs, including helping her to produce an heir or two. Hans and Bonehorn did have the same colouring so they'd get away with that one. Cedric became aide de camp to Prince Bonehorn. Priscilla whose mind was on the details made a nice padding to fill out Bonehorn's cod piece ************************************************* Great was the rejoicing when the royal party appeared in Legover and the troops of both armies escorted them to the capital in a magnificent parade. Prince Bonehorn enjoyed it all so much that he forgot his sacrifice for a while. Actually, he found it wasn't really such a loss. He still had Cedric to comfort him. And it was such a relief that Priscilla didn't expect him to perform. ************************************************ Priscilla's consolation, apart from Hans, was that her husband never left the toilet seat up. The old wood cutter retired after he'd trained his replacement, a man called Baldwyn.. He was still surprised at his luck in meeting up with Mallie, a beautiful woman in a sinister sort of way. She was a wonderful cook and house keeper. Amazingly, at about the same time as he'd met Mallie, his old pee stick became wonderfully rejuvenated and he was able to keep her well fucked. Best of all, the wood cutter was so pleased that his son Hans had got his act together at long last. Hans was now a big shot in the palace. The wood cutter was proud of his son. ************************************************ It turned out that Baldwyn had no aptitude for forestry. He killed himself by felling a tree right on top of himself. Bonehorn eventually became king of both kingdoms and was a wise and well loved ruler. Queen Priscilla produced a large and well behaved royal family. And, of course, they all lived happily ever after. End