I’m sure you're familiar with the fairy tale, Jack and the Beanstalk. In this retelling, I tried to stay true to many of the stories' memorable features—though I don't want to give too much of my version of the story away—I even managed to keep the famed Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, but probably not in the way you'd expect. I also gave the tale a modern update along with my own little twist, that gives Jack and his giant, a whole new connotation.Another little interesting fact — Most fairy tales have some form of magic element or paranormal aspect; my version of Jack is completely contemporary and I think, absolutely plausible. I hope readers will enjoy my take on Jack and also have fun picking out the similarities to the original story. Oh and then there’s the erotic element. Rawr! Wishing you all a happily ever after…
Jack and the Jean Stock
[A Naughty Fairy Tale]
H K Carlton
m/m, contemporary, erotic
Strapped for cash and drowning in his ailing mother’s medical debt, the one bright spark in Jack Castor’s life is working his dream job for a specialty clothing manufacturer that caters to large men. Although his personal life is all but nonexistent, career-wise, he thrives under the tutelage of his friend and father-like mentor, Cronus Gigandet, a gigantic man with a heart to match. But when Cronus dies suddenly, the company’s future is thrown into uncertainty.
Titan Gigandet, Cronus’ wayward son, a giant of a man in his own right, is furious when he learns his father has included his upstart protégé, Jack, in his will, leaving him equal shares in the family-run factory. Reluctantly, Titan rescinds his own self-imposed exile and returns to a company in turmoil.
The gloves come off, and the major players fight for control. With the shareholder’s agreement about to run out, decisions concerning the business need to be made, and quick. But Jack and Titan clash at every turn. The pair is so at odds, the quarrels rapidly become physical, but fists soon give way to angry, forbidden kisses. Though the blazing new attraction does nothing to quell the antagonism or distrust between them.
While battling to save the company, Jack’s mother takes a turn for the worse. Just when it seems like all hope is lost, Titan unearths a stunning find.
Could this new discovery be Jack’s ‘golden goose’ or just the beginning of the end to everything Jack holds dear?
ONCE UPON A TIME, Jack Castor ventured over to the seedier side of town.
How many more fucking times would he have to do this?
As many as it took, he knew without a doubt.
Jack pulled his collar up and huddled further into his coat. His anxiety grew the farther into the belly of the city he trudged.
Two guys approached him, their footsteps echoing on the sidewalk mimicking his palpitating heartbeat. Down here, his height was his greatest asset. Taller than the average guy at six eleven, he hoped his stature was intimidating.
Jack kept his gaze averted as they passed, but he still tensed; ready to defend himself, waiting for them to pounce.
But before he could jump out of his own skin, a voice from the shadows summoned his attention. “Pssst, over here, Castor!”
A shape loomed out of the darkness, coming closer. A shiver ran down his spine. It was amazing the guy could evoke that kind of fear when his street name was Mouse.
“Like before, just palm the cash and it better all be there. Or you know what’ll happen.”
“I don’t have enough cash.”
Mouse turned without a word, about to leave.
“Here are the keys to my car.”
The other man froze mid-step.
“Your car?” His voice rose an octave in interest.
“Yeah, but if you take it, you come when I call. I want product available at all times. And you keep it coming until we’ve maxed out the difference.”
Dangling the keys like a carrot, Jack waited. He hated feeling so desperate and beholden.
Jack dropped the keys into Mouse’s greedy hand while simultaneously opening his and accepting the baggie of painkillers.
Squinting in the shadows, Jack held up the zipper bag.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the dealer hissed. “Are you crazy? Stash that.”
“I’m making sure they’re all here, Mouse. You short changed me last time.” Probably not smart to accuse him of such a thing. “What’s this thing?” Jack pinched one of the tablets through the cellophane. “It’s discolored. Almost looks like some kind of seed or bean or something.”
Before he could blink, something hard butted up against his ribcage. “You got alotta fuckin’ nerve, Castor. I could fuck you up bad and toss your body in the nearest dumpster, and no one would bat an eye.”
“Put that thing away and look.”
Rooting around behind, Mouse shoved the weapon into the back of his jeans, pulling his coat over the offending piece and then he squinted. “I don’t know. I’ve got this new supplier. He’s into all kinds of crazy stuff. Witch doctor shit. But word on the street is his
stuff is pure and high quality and very much in demand. You don’t want it; I’ll sell it to somebody else for even more. I give you a good rate man, on-accounta your mom and all. Even I have a soft spot for the mamas.”
A quick blast of a siren rent the air, followed by red and blue lights swirling across the brick walls in the alleyway. It was enough to send the dealer sprinting down the backstreet into the darkness, leaving Jack to face the consequences alone.
“Fuck!” Jack hung his head and pocketed the goods. He stood stalk still as he heard the cruiser pull up, blocking the alley.
He heard the car door open and braced himself for whatever might come next.
Instinctively, he put up his hands.
From behind, a large, hairy knuckled hand encircled his wrist and yanked one arm behind his back.
“What are you doin’ down here, Jack?”
Relief flooded him the moment he recognized Sergeant Rick Tabart’s voice.
Tabart began patting Jack down, all the way to his ankles. Then on the journey back up his body, he slowed around the crotch area.
“Got any weapons on ya?” He gave him a good going over. Enough to peak Jack’s interest, his cock tugged.
Tabart’s breath heated Jack’s neck, his lips feathering against his earlobe. “Feels like a concealed weapon to me.” He paused. “A big one.”
With his muscular frame, the lawman pressed Jack up against the wall, coaxing his palms flat against the cool brick. “Keep ‘em up there.”
With his shiny black boot, Tabart kicked his stance wider.
All hands once again, Rick unzipped Jack’s coat and continued to frisk him, molding his strong hands over Jack’s chest.
“Mm, been workin’ out, Jackie?”
But just as he was about to reply, Rick ran the heel of his hand down the length of Jack’s dick, still at half mast from the first overlyfriendly body search. Rick then pressed his body to Jack’s and rubbed his own hardened cock against his ass.
A noise farther up the alley had Rick pulling back.
The cop reached into Jack’s pocket and retrieved the drugs.
“Not again. I told you to stay the fuck away from here.”
“I know, but she needs them, man. Give me a break … please?”
“I cut you a break the last time. And the time before that. I can’t keep doin’ this, Jack.”
The click of the cuff and the touch of cold steel on his wrist sent Jack’s hopes dwindling. He’d run out of luck. This time Rick was going to take him in.
“Gimme your other hand.”
Jack didn’t resist but allowed him to twist his arm back. With the other cuff secured, Rick pulled him off the wall and guided him to the cop car, placing Jack in the back.
“Watch your head,” he said in an overloud voice, even placing his hand over Jack’s head so he wouldn’t hit it on the pillar. Jack gathered his legs inside the cramped backseat, levering himself to the side. Even then he barely fit.
Rick slammed the door and made his way around the vehicle to the driver’s side. As soon as he got in, he shut off the overhead lights, then started the engine.
In the backseat, Jack hung his head and that stupid saying about best intentions came to mind.
It didn’t take Jack long to realize they were headed away from the police station.
Instead, a few minutes later Rick pulled into his own driveway. He hit the remote and the garage door began to rise. He drove forward and parked as the door then closed slowly behind them.
Keeping his eyes on the officer, Jack watched him exit the car and with purpose make his way around to Jack’s side. He whipped open the door and dragged Jack out by the collar, slamming him up against the rear quarter of the car.
Jack steeled himself for what was to come.
The cop stared at him intensely, his jaw ticking in agitation.
“On your knees,” he ordered, while undoing his belt.
Slowly, Jack slid down to a kneeling position, his hands still cuffed behind his back. The coldness of the concrete seeped through his pant legs stiffening his joints. He’d never felt so vulnerable in his life.
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H K Carlton is a multi-published Canadian author of romance and its varied sub-genres, including contemporary, paranormal, historical, family saga and erotica.
I enjoy writing in many different genres. I write where the muse takes me and make no apologies for it. By now, it’s quite safe to say I will never pick just one genre and stick to it. There are just too many possibilities and stories left to tell. Today time-travel, tomorrow sweet historical romance—the next release might be, down and dirty erotica or ménage. I hope you’ll join me for the ride.
Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me.
Author of The Always Cambridge Series
Mob life is forever
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