Red Riding Hoodbygauchecritic©
In a land far away and long. long ago there in a small village close by the great wood there lived a girl called Elaine. She lived with her step mother who was surprisingly, and against all the odds in a fairy tale, not wicked.
Elaine, and many of the local woodcutters did notice however that her step mother had a wicked grin and equally wicked curves which often meant that any woodcutters she met were soon encumbered with two sizeable choppers instead of just the one with which they cut down trees.
For her part, Elaine was quite happy living in the woods and this being long, long ago the local economy was fairly robust with a mixture of free market capitalism and socialist accommodation thriving between the different and distinct local groupings of basically anarcho-syndicalist communes.
The siting of this wooden economy was rather fortuitous, in that if Elaine had traveled no more than about eleven kilometers in any direction she would come upon either the mountainous regions of the south whose weekly markets were abundant with goat, sheep and the occasional dairy product and to the north where the ecology was, quite frankly, non-existent and there were only buildings, roads and media types.
Neither the wood folk nor the mountain folk ever visited and rarely spoke of the northern land.
Elaine was that rare thing amongst a 'noble peasantry' in that she was an inventor of sorts and a skilled wood turner to boot. The sound of Elaine's wood lathe could be heard echoing for miles through the sleepy forest and was a source of great satisfaction, not only for the local economy but also for the ladies and not a few men of the forest. Elaine's wooden 'articles' were known far and wide throughout the land of far away and long ago.
Every day before the cock-crow Elaine would rise from her bed and very often puzzle over the fact that there was no smutty innuendo written in that sentence. Then she would wonder through the door of her closet-like, cloister-close bedroom and marvel at the sophisticated imagery and word usage of this sentence.
As she passed her step-mother's bedroom she would remember that she was completely naked and ought to go back and get dressed in case one of her step-mother's 'visitors' should come unexpected and unbidden through the door. Then she would think "Oh fuck it." And go outside in her nuddy to collect a pail of pale water from the gushing stream which ran past her wooden home.
On this particular day, in the clearing betwixt and between the towering trees of the forest of the land of long ago and far away Elaine was stepping from the water of the clear stream, rivulets of cool water created their own creeks and becks as they coursed down the slopes and valleys of her pale skin, pausing sometimes in their gravity driven flow to join or separate as they met rising flesh or indented creases along her unblemished skin.
Elaine stood spellbound by the early morning sun reflecting diamonds and flashing satin sheets from her still wet, dry-wet body unknowing and uncaring of the eyes hidden amongst the brush on the opposite side of the gurgling rivulet from which she had stepped. Then, all too quickly, her morning dalliance of private sun-worship and meditation was broken by the odd description of the stream. Her richly proud brow furrowed in concentration as she considered how desperate and amateurish was the phrase 'gurgling rivulet'.
* * *
Wolf Canidae was a man of a certain style. Raffish, some would say, others; rogue. Wolf had been conceived some twenty six years previously (which makes him 25, 26 next birthday. April. The twenty second.) and was a man of intellect yet knowing of woodcraft, the earth and her pleasures. He was the bastard and shunned offspring of a certain woodland girl and a top level executive from the grim northern lands. (You can see where this is leading can't you?)
As he stood in the cool morning mist (incidentally ruining his velvet waistcoat) with his mane of lustrous dark hair swiffling in the very slight breeze rising from the evaporating stream by which he stood, he drank in the sweet heady sight of the naked ginger lady wading from the waters on the opposite bank. Though his mind was awhirl with predacious and conflictingly loving thoughts he concentrated on only two things (no, not her tits. Far too obvious) The main thrust of his musing diverged on two questions. Why use the phrase 'knowing of woodcraft' in the previous paragraph, which is a bit effete and unnecessarily faux romantic usage and also the word 'swiffling'. Evocative and even possibly descriptive in a wildly poetic licencey way but surely completely invented and therefore snapping the reader from their suspension of disbelief.
Wolf shook his head to dislodge the thoughts of the author and felt his heart skip a beat as the vision of loveliness disappeared behind a suspiciously convenient tree.
Being a major character Wolf realised that he must have this girl, this fantasy, this phantasm or any other synonym for vision which didn't bear repeating in a consecutive paragraph. Having convinced himself and drunk with beauty Wolf stumbled forward on tipsy shoes borrowing poetic terminology from an earlier work.
* * *
Elaine, still naked, strode boldly through the doorway of her shared home intent on making a nice pot of tea and a bit of breakfast only to find her step-mother languishing on a carven chair at the kitchen table.
"Why step-mother, whatever can be wrong?" Elaine said as she laid a gentle and gently warming bare arm around her step-parent's creamy, satin skinned shoulder.
Her step-mother turned her face towards her kindly step-daughter and essayed a smile that crinkled her reddening eyes. "'Tis nought that you should worry your own fair head about girl." She said archaicly
As soon as her step-mother uttered those words Elaine knew that there was something deeply and abidingly cruel that must be tearing her very soul for her to speak in such an obviously invented dialect. Elaine leaned closer to comfort her and unconsciously, but perhaps not unintentionally, pressing her full, still naked, rose tipped bosom against her step-mother's shoulder.
The step-mother's shoulders shook in silent misery creating waves of sympathetic flesh and not wholly unwonted sensuous ripples across Elaine's pearly bosom.
"Please step-mother" Elaine cried "You're breaking my heart, please tell me what is wrong."
Elaine's step-mother tried to stifle her sobbing to ease Elaine's pain, for she loved her step-daughter very much and at the moment she was absolutely fascinated by her ginger minge which was on full view to her downcast, tear-filled eyes.
"'Tis nought really." She said tearing her eyes away from her step-daughter's lustrous, shining crotch to look into her face. "But... why oh why can I not have a name?" she wailed anew as the tears fell once more speckling her step-daughter's freckled arm.
Elaine didn't know how to answer her step-mother's question. She realised that typing out 'step-mother' rather than 'Helen' or 'Joan' or even something as ridiculous as 'Hildegard' must be something of a strain for the author whose typing skills had so obviously not progressed to the top row of keys on the keyboard and make him look down every time he typed step-mother in order to fit in the hyphen but she was at a loss how to explain her step-mother's lack of character name.
"I've even been mentioned in the very weak sub-plot about the mysterious stranger, which will obviously never be resolved before the end, just left loose and flapping and making the reader wander if this is a thinly veiled incest story." She exclaimed
Elaine hugged her step-mother all the harder as if trying to squeeze out the fear and worry that rent her very existence.
"Look" the step-mother wailed.
Elaine raised her head, darting her eyes from corner to corner and nook to cranny about the otherwise empty kitchen.
"There" she cried "Fourth paragraph up. I'm even exclaiming now and I still don't have a name."
Elaine sat upon her step-mother's lap and held her face between her loving fingers, knowing full well the sensuality inherent in the situation but willing to try anything to calm her almost hysterical step-mother even if it meant a hastily assembled and completely gratuitous girl on girl scene.
The step-mother's knees trembled and her flesh burned brightly where her step-daughter's cool but rapidly warming skin touched hers.
"I know it's not much" Elaine began "but my name will be changing soon. As a matter of fact, unless a keen bit of find-and-replace doesn't happen before submission my name even now is going to be Elalaine in several places."
The step-mother smiled and frowned simultaneously.
"Oh just look." Elaine trilled "We even made him use the word simultaneously and he definitely had to correct that at least three times."
Her step-mother laughed. Elaine smiled and stroked her step-mother's graying hair then leaned forward and kissed her clear forehead. They looked deeply into each other's eyes and with impeccable timing Elaine whispered "Unless the title is just some sort of tasteless gimmick my name is going to change to Red Riding Hood but you," Elalaine touched a finger to her step-mother's full lips, "You will always be my step-mother."
[insert girl-on-girl here]
* * *
Wolf Canidae surveyed the amorous goings on within the confines of the kitchen of the rude woodsman's home and felt himself torn between taking out his cock there and then and whacking off to the scene inside or to boldly march through the doorway and join the frolicsome pair, but being a cultured creature he decided that neither course would suit his needs. Who knew how many woodcutters were hereabouts in the woods and just how kindly would they take to one of the Northmen splashing his seed around and about the home of possibly the loveliest girl in the forest.
So Wolf took his rangy figure back towards the woods where he would muse and meander his thoughts to create a cunning plan of action which would allow him to ensnare the girl in his wily grasp.
* * *
Both physically and emotionally exhausted Elaine and her step-mother lay atop the hard wooden surface of the kitchen table bathed in sweat and such excretions as were provided by a prolonged bout of heavy girl-on-girl action and with the day being hardly begun and also being a Thursday they eventually agreed to spend the day naked so that each could bask at will in the beauty of the other as they went about their chores, which they began with a skinny dip in the nearby stream.
Elaine's step-mother was a woman of mature beauty and as she rose from the waters Elaine held back momentarily in order to gaze with admiration at her retreating back and backside. Step-mother's arse was a thing of wonder to Elaine, who had quite small boyish hips. and her memory stepped unbidden into the very recent past to recall how she had slapped it stingingly whilst grinding her red-golden pubic hair, scissor fashion into her step-mother's sparsely covered crotch.
Step-mother turned her head and threw a satisfied and thankful smile across her broad shoulder as Elaine stepped from the depths of both the stream and memory to follow.
As she passed the suspiciously convenient tree on the bank Elaine noted that the collector attached to the spiral cut in the bark was almost filled with the sap that she was using to experiment in her workshop.
The natural latex ( a complex emulsion that coagulates with exposure to air and is found in many plants) that Elaine was collecting was for use in one of her many experiments. Although the summers were long and pleasant in the land of far away and long ago, the winters were a bugger, bringing heavy snows and the spring enormous quantities of rain which the folk of the land protected themselves from by simply not going out in it.
But the people of this land of long ago and far away (look. I'll tell you what, we'll just call the land of long ago and faraway 'Longago' ok? Think of it as the name of a country; Longago. Right?) the people of Longago, being simple woodland folk or hillsiders knew that a sustainable ecology was a matter of necessity and so they husbanded their resources by planting young trees in the spring to take the place of those they had cut down in the previous year. This obviously meant that those charged with the task of summer planting had to work extensively in very wet spring weather which caused all sorts of chills, colds and flu's to be prevalent in that part of the community.
(Being wet and cold doesn't give you any ailments nor increase the abundance of virii or bacteria which are the cause of chills, colds etc but it does slightly weaken your resistance to such)
So Elaine had taken it upon herself to search for bad weather clothing material and she was certain that the sap or rubber which she 'milked' from various trees and plants could be moulded or crafted into usable weather-proof garments such as hats or capes.
Being a conscientious society (and obviously conscientious is implied by the word society) but being conscientious the Longagoans took great pains in keeping at least a semblance of population control being as how they were modern yet natural folk and knew that even natural resources were limited if expansion, nationalism and eventually globalism were to be kept, like the wolf, from ravening at their door.
(OK. This is the tricky part which might escape those readers looking for sex, laughs or both. This is where the Lit comes in [although there's damn little enough of the erotica part so far]. Now, the introduction of the wolf [above] as a metaphor for industrialisation or multinational is mirrored or an echo of, the character of Wolf Canidae, the apparent 'outcast' of the north of Longago and so the tale of Red Riding Hood is twisted to become not a cautionary tale about burgeoning sexuality (stay out the woods, keep to the straight and narrow, watch out for wolves (men) etc but a slantwise leftist attack on the evils of capitalism. Alright? Got all that? You can stop reading now if you want, if you've got this far, but you'll miss out on the vaguely humorous parts yet to come and possibly even the sex if I can find somewhere to slide it in.)
The society of Longago had come to the unspoken agreement that the best and most effective method of birth control was abstinence. Well abstinence of cunt fucking anyway. And so it became known throughout the lands far and wide that if you enjoyed oral, anal (either sex) or gay dalliance then Longago was the place to be and this pretty much put natural population growth at virtually zero.
The inhabitants of Longago were, by this time, so used to the influx of those seeking non-procreational sex that their language didn't even contain a word for immigrant. (which is the main reason why Longago didn't have any right wing newspapers because they couldn't fit 'PEOPLE NOT BORN IN OUR COUNTRY STEAL JOBS' or "...DON'T PAY TAX" or "...WELFARE SCROUNGERS" in the banner headlines)
Elaine pushed her finger into the viscous latex and decided it was hardening faster than she liked so she picked up the bucket, replacing it with an empty one, and headed towards her workshop where she put down the container on her experimental bench (not that the bench was an exercise or prototype of benchmaking but the bench where she carried out experiments) and lazily stripped the gum from her finger as she recalled just how hot both the weather and her step-mother had become.
Elaine moved to the wood lathe hopper and took out one of her famous wooden 'articles' and gave it a quick sanding down with the emery cloth in preparation for an experimental gloss coating from the latex pot. "Hand Finished" and "Individually Tested" were the trade mark and slogans of Elaine's enterprise.
* * *
Wolf Canidae enjoyed having his name used in full at the beginning of his parts in the story so it was with no little trepidation that he had casually approached various woodcutters, lumberers and old ladies in the gardens of their small homes in order to draw them into conversation and learn as much as he could about Elaine and her step-mother.
Fortunately, so far Wolf Canidae was working in past tense and had been spared reportage of any conversations wherein he quite often had to offer his interlocutors use of his given name only ('You can call me Wolf') so his full name was so far intact but as his dastardly plan to ensnare the beautiful red-headed Elaine came closer Wolf Canidae actually feared approaching the workshop where he might have to actually enter present tense in order to interact with his secret love.
Wolf Canidae breathed a sigh of relief as he peered through the gloomy window into the workshop and was once again entranced by the sight of his love apparently stroking what appeared to be a wooden phallus with quite some vigour. Even more confusingly and powerfully evocative he saw that she carried out this activity entirely naked.
He stood mesmerized by the sight of Elaine's full and jigglesome breasts as they bounced, swayed and jounced as if dancing to the tune of her rapid hands playing on the wooden instrument she held firmly in her slender fingers.
Wolf Canidae's thighs and muscular young buttocks had seemingly become aware of the silent tune also and were performing their own involuntary terpsichore in an unconscious effort of frottage to make his now ravenous manhood saw and rasp against the rough cloth of his tight and tightening trouser front.
* * *
From the vantage of the kitchen window step-mother watched in fascination with one hand on a handy axe and the other a sharp paring knife as she saw the strange, but handsomely proportioned antics of this newcomer apparently trying to fuck the side of Elaine's workshop.
She crept quietly from the house and approached the frotting figure...
* * *
Elaine's approach to her industry was occasionally whimsical in her search for the smoothest finish she could find for her articles, which at present was a luxuriant but thin coat of vanish but unfortunately meant that purchasers needed to resort to lubricants after only a few uses as she had never found a varnish that wouldn't coagulate and sloughen when repeatedly exposed to 'natural juices'. (or monkey grease and twat fat as her grandmother the beta tester named them)
But Elaine had been struck by her attempts at creating water proof clothing and found that indeed not only was latex water resistant but also that particular samples (such as that exuded from Lactarius deliciosus) was unaffected by unguents. Unfortunately this particular type of emulsion was a red/orange colour and rather garish but at the moment was the best choice.
So Elaine moved to her stock of emulsions and drew down the one she had decided to work with and dipped in the newly finished article in her hand.
(Surely you've got enough clues by now about how Elaine gets the name Red Riding Hood. This is hard work googling all this shit you know, please try to keep up.)
Excited by the immediate results of the coating, Elaine ran through the yard to find her step-mother only to discover a wellington boot hanging from her bedroom door handle and the rather obvious sounds of something sexual or possibly frightening happening inside. Elaine rather thought that it was probably sexual, as usual, and went back to her experiments.
Having laboured feverishly through the night Elaine trudged through the early morning mist towards the house and hopefully her unoccupied bed. If Elaine's step-mother was in any way wicked it lay in the fact that she always conducted her trysts in Elaine's larger and more comfortable bed and being that Elaine would never think of sleeping in her dead father's bed she sometimes had to forego the night as a period of rest.