tagCelebrities & Fan FictionRapunzel's Curiosity

Rapunzel's Curiosity


The sun set on the horizon, throwing golden and red rays up across the sky. Rapunzel lay across her bed with her long, golden hair trailing across her shoulders and spread out across her head like the sun rays she was watching. The large, circular tower's main room was in darkness, the candles long extinguished as she watched the outside world, aching for new sensations, experiences and acquaintances. She was past the age when most girls had moved away from home, got their own space and found a husband. Maybe even had kids already. But that life wasn't open to her.

The stars were pretty, flickering brightly amidst the clear sky, when the sun had disappeared and the moonlight was the only light to see by. Rapunzel sat up and stretched out her arms, glancing around for a candle. She sighed when the little light had illuminated the room and all she could see was boredom. Everything was old and used. Her walls were covered with paintings and drawings of things she had seen, and how she imagined the things she had read about might look. Mountains of books that had been read twice or three times before lay around on bookshelf upon bookshelf, and piles of newer ones in the corner by her bed.

She'd read all of them, books about flowers and stories about carnivals and beautiful princesses being rescued by handsome men. Why did she never get to touch the flowers, smell their aromas and help them to grow? The idea of a carnival, with people dancing and singing and laughing, made her heart heavy. Would she never know those people, dance with them or be able to just talk? Most of all she wondered what people did with their days. She'd read about everything, from working to travelling and seeing the world.

She would have given anything to be out there, but as she stood up by the window and leaned out, feeling the cold breeze on her skin she remembered that people were cruel and evil. The people she read about were not real, and from stories her mother had told her they were all drunkards, fighting and hurting one another for their own sakes. She shouldn't want to know them. But she did.

As she looked around the room for something to take her mind from the melancholy, she remembered her mother's visit and the book she had been too shocked at to allow Rapunzel to read. Mother had shouted, tried to tear the book in half and thrown it on the fire before she left, forbidding her daughter to look at its evil, disgusting content.

But its dark leather cover was singed at the edges, the pages curled and browned. Curiosity struck at the only book her mother had ever banned her from reading. Rapunzel grabbed the candle from the table and walked over to the burnt embers of the fire and crouched down. Her fingers stung slightly as she slid the book from the ash, blowing the remaining dust back into the fireplace.

It was heavy in her hands, and she held it delicately as she moved back over to her bed. Her long, blue nightdress splayed out beside her as she lay down, placing the candle on the window ledge to see by. Her hair that followed on the floor wherever she moved had tangled up in itself and she had to place the book down on the bed to straighten it out, coiling it up on her pillow. The golden strands glinted in the candle light and she laid back, carefully looking at the spine of the book. It was entirely plain with only a string of worn, golden letters in the centre. It read 'Passions and Pleasures', and Rapunzel frowned. She was used to descriptive titles like 'Flowers of the Lowlands' and 'Painting techniques'. But this one had no such clues to its contents.

She frowned again and opened the front cover. Her eyes widened and she looked around as though worried someone might have seen. But there was nobody there. Mother had left hours before and there was never anyone else. She was entirely alone.

The picture in the front was of a woman. Her short dark hair was pressed against a pillow and her mouth was wide showing perfectly white teeth. She was completely naked, her large breasts bare and her hips high, showing off a small mound of dark hair between her legs.

Rapunzel blushed and flipped the cover closed. She sat back away from it with her legs crossed and her arms folded, watching it as though it might bite. This wasn't the kind of thing she was used to, and her heart started to race as her mind whirred, remembering what she'd seen. Did people really want to look at things like that? She kicked the book from her bed and lay down on top of her blankets, staring once again out the window, hoping for sleep to take her. But her mind wouldn't let go of the image in the book. The look of the woman's legs, thin but muscular, lifting her hips high in the air, her own fingers pressed deep inside.

Rapunzel's chest was rising and falling quickly just thinking of the image. Was that what the book was about? Were there more pictures, or was there writing too? What could they possibly have written about for that image to be relevant? Soon, she'd crawled to the end of the bed to pluck the book from the floor. She laid it down on the bed in front of her and opened it directly to the second page, eager to find out what the purpose of the book was. What would it teach her? The second and third pages were only words, and Rapunzel let out her breath. That was better, perhaps there wouldn't be any more drawings to cause her such confusion. But as she read, she began to feel her heart quicken and her cheeks blush hot and red.

The first words were describing the woman with dark curly hair and 'pert, soft breasts'. Rapunzel looked down at her chest and tried to consider them 'pert' or 'soft'. She reached her hand down the front of her nightgown, carefully undoing the little buttons to release them to the cool air. She ran her finger across her left nipple, feeling it and shivering slightly as it hardened under her touch. The other made her shake, her legs pressing together as she encircled it, gently teasing herself.

What was happening to her?

She looked back at the book, continuing to read quicker and more desperately. The woman's fingers gently reached down to herself, running across her wet lips.

Rapunzel frowned, finally allowing herself to look back at the picture of the woman. The dark haired woman looked as though in bliss, her eyes rolling high and her skin slick with sweat.

But Rapunzel's eye was drawn to the dark hair between the woman's legs, and she found herself reading more, picturing in her mind the thin fingers probing inside. The descriptions were so intense and detailed that she began to feel something down in her abdomen. It was hot and spread like electricity through her body. The more she read about the woman running her fingers over her breasts with one hand, and touching herself 'there' with the other, the more her thoughts began to race and her body grew hotter.

With a gulp, Rapunzel ran her hands up the inside of her thigh, sliding her nightgown higher and higher until she could feel the soft hair between her legs. Her eyes flitted again around the room, aware that her private area was exposed to the night air. The cold wind flitting against her made things feel strange, but nice. She realised then that she was wet and that each little gust made her gasp, tickling her and making her throb with need.

She'd never felt that way before, never known that something so intense was possible of her own body. Her eyes flicked back to the book and she turned the page, reading on as her fingers tickled the hair between her legs.

But the story continued on, causing her to get wetter, her nipples hardening as she read. The woman in the picture was stuck in Rapunzel's mind, her normal, short hair and her beauty was staggering. But in the descriptive words the woman was touching something deep inside herself and running her fingers over her sweet spot. Rapunzel read about the woman gasping and moaning, pressing her other fingers deep inside her as she did so, and wondered what it felt like.

She gasped at the next page, as she turned the page and found more drawings. In the first a man was knelt beside the dark haired woman and it shocked her that he was so large, broad shouldered and chiselled as perfect as she could imagine a man to be. His shoulders were visible and his arms, as well has his solid, muscular chest.

She gasped slightly and then looked at the next image. The man had knelt between the dark haired lady's legs, spreading them with his hands. She could see that his fingers were holding the lady's thighs tightly, his tongue reaching out long and straight, licking the pink, wet skin between her legs.

Rapunzel's fingers moved down until she could feel her sensitive wet lips. It shook her that it was such an intense feeling she'd never felt before. She read on, trying to mimic the words from the book in person. Her finger searched around, feeling for the most sensitive and arousing spot. When she found it her back arched, angling her hips so that she could press harder against her fingers. The images of the man's tongue against the woman's smooth wet lips made her shudder, pushing her fingers harder and harder against herself.

In the next image, the man's tongue was clearly searching deep inside the woman, and her back was arched so much that her hips were off the bed. The man's hands were holding her backside up, her wetness covering his lips and chin.

Rapunzel left the book and turned onto her back, her spare hand reaching down and probing around to find the hole she wanted to penetrate. It was hot and she moaned loudly as one finger pushed inside. The sensations doubled, one finger flicking over her sweet spot and another pushing faster inside her.

A cold breeze from the window licked at her skin, her nipples throbbing with the sensation of her warmth being touched by cold. It felt almost as though someone else was caressing her, licking at her nipples and legs. She spread them further, feeling the soft caresses across her inner thighs too as she pushed another finger inside herself. The wind blew the pages of the book wildly, and when the gust died another image was on top, causing Rapunzel to spiral into an unstoppable burst of sensation. She felt herself lose control, rubbing faster and harder against herself with one more finger, stretching it until it was almost painful.

The image on the page was of a full, naked man, lying atop the dark haired woman. She'd never seen a naked man before and was shocked and amazed at his long hardness as it pushed against the woman, ready to enter her. Rapunzel imagined that he was there with her, her fingers replaced by his length inside her and his warm chest against hers.

As she felt the sensations all rise to a climax her hair began to glow, giving the whole room a brighter golden shimmer. It illuminated her skin, wrapped around her shoulders and tickled her breasts as she tensed and shuddered at the amazing feeling. Strands were wrapped around her all the way down to her legs, causing her whole body to glow as though the sensations she felt were the cause. The tension in her body released, bringing moans and gasps to her lips as she imagined the man's mouth on hers, kissing her as they writhed together in pleasure.

When the little shocks of pleasure had finished Rapunzel lay back, exhausted. Her body tingled and she gasped at the breeze as it touched her sensitive skin. Her forehead was laced with sweat and her abdomen ached pleasantly as she lay, trying to calm herself down and understand what had happened.

But the book lay there still and despite the amazing feeling she'd experienced, the man looking up at her wasn't real. None of it was and it was never likely to be. She hadn't felt his tongue inside her, his lips against hers, his body so smooth or the way he tenderly held the dark haired woman.

Her hair stopped glowing.

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