Chapter 2

Gepetto had, indeed, been wondering where his creation was. He was quite angry with Pinocchio when he finally returned, but that anger fled when he saw both, how much taller and more human Pinocchio had become. The gold coins in his fist didn't hurt things either.

He kept Pinocchio inside the next day, examining him. He went out only to spend some of the money on food. It was then that he heard the rumors about how Dame Columbus and her servant girl had been bewitched in some foul manner, causing their skin to turn green, and for some sorcerous abomination to have swelled their bellies. Both, of course, denied making any deal with the spirits of darkness, but it was obvious they had. Gepetto would liked to have seen these strange things, but Master Columbus had whisked the two women away to his summer retreat, out of sight, where the monks could try to cure them of their affliction, in private.

He told Pinocchio of the rumors upon his return. Pinocchio remembered seeing both women's skin turn green as his sap flowed into them and, being smarter than he was the day before, he kept quiet about his role in the matter.

He kept quiet primarily because he had had so much fun sliding his foot long trunk in and out of those women, that he was fully intent on doing it again.

The next time he could get away, Pinocchio went straight to the wood nymph's house, eagerly anticipating another fine tryst with her clasping pussy. Alas, she was so advanced in her arcane and mythological pregnancy, that he could not lie upon her.

She was as horny as a three antlered moose, however, and was determined to have Pinocchio's ball bat in her, whatever it took. To that end, she first sucked on his wooden rod, which felt surprisingly flexible in her hands and mouth, like a hickory sapling.

She made him lie to her, until he was most of two feet long and then, planting her hands and feet on the dirt floor of her house, she wagged her green buttocks at him.

"Put 'er there," said the wood nymph, having no idea she had just coined a phrase that, over time, would come to mean something completely different. She made her pussy lips purse, as if they were trying to kiss his phallus. Wood nymphs can do that kind of thing.

Pinocchio was only too happy to slide his prick into the girl, who Oooed and Ahhhed appreciatively as he kept going, rapping the acorn in her womb sharply. She was in ecstasy overload, after her third orgasm, during which the acorn and penis played a drum beat on each other, until the acorn cracked open to reveal the beginnings of roots inside.

Thus, the wood nymph was not prepared, when Pinocchio unleashed his magic sap, which surrounded the acorn, and advanced its growth by some six or eight years instantly. Pinocchio stumbled back, his penis still spurting, while the nymph's toes became thick roots, that bored into the ground. Her body was jerked upright, and suddenly she was three feet off the ground, her legs lengthening. Her skin began turning a dusky brown, and became rougher. Her arms shot out and became branches that, when she reached them skyward, pushed a hole in the roof of the cottage.

Pinocchio stared upward in awe as her soft whining voice became creaky as she wailed and the tree, her own progeny, enveloped her. She was trapped inside it as it continued to grow, reaching a height of fifteen feet before it stopped. Pinocchio, not believing his eyes, walked around the trunk of the newly-grown tree. He saw something, and peered closer. It was a knot hole, that looked amazingly like the wood nymph's pussy. On impulse, he poked his still hard penis into the hole.

"Nooooooo," wailed the tree, and its upper branches flailed.

It felt like her pussy too, and Pinocchio, ever the selfish boy, fucked it lustily until he spurted again.

The tree grew another six feet instantly, which was not such a good thing for Pinocchio, since he was suddenly suspended, six feet off the ground, his wooden penis still firmly inserted into the knot hole.

"Help!" he yelped, holding onto the tree trunk to keep from breaking his precious penis off. "Somebody HELP MEEEEE!"

All he heard was faint laughter from within the tree.

Now, it happened that an old crone was wobbling by the wood nymph's house, and heard Pinocchio's cries for help. The aged woman looked doubtfully at the cottage, which had a tree growing from its roof, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked in through the front door. She was surprised to see a six foot boy, who looked faintly like a puppet of some sort, hanging onto the tree, his head almost up to the ceiling.

"Whatever are you doing up there?" wheezed the old woman.

"Trying not to lose something precious to me," moaned Pinocchio. "Get me a ladder please."

"What's in it for me?" asked the old woman. Carrying around heavy ladders wasn't on her list of things to do this day. Her bones were aching.

"I'll pay you!" shouted Pinocchio. He gasped, as his buttocks moved away from the tree six inches. He had no money, and his penis had grown when he lied. It felt firmly stuck, and he had visions of becoming a branch of that tree if he didn't get down soon.

"My father will pay you," he moaned. He immediately shrank enough that he had to hold on for dear life. He got an idea. He looked down at the woman. "I can see you are so ugly that I'll have to beg him to do so, but I swear I'll ask him to pay you." He shrank another six inches, and was able to pull his penis out of the knot hole. Now, only his wooden muscles were holding him to the trunk.

"With a mouth like that, you can just stay up there," snarled the old woman.

"Please," pleaded Pinocchio. "I'll make it worth your effort if you help me get down."

Mumbling to herself that she was an easy touch, the old woman looked around. She didn't find a ladder, but she did find a chair with a tall back on it. She grunted as she pulled and pushed, until the back of the chair was against the trunk of the tree.

"Wiggle down," she called up, "until your feet touch the back of the chair." She sat down on the chair, to stabilize it.

Pinocchio craned his neck to look down. What she had said seemed reasonable to him, so he loosened his arms enough to let his body slide down a little. His prick, still sticking out, scraped along the bark of the tree.

"Mmmmmm," came a faint voice from within the tree.

It took a while, but finally his feet touched the back of the chair and he could stand, without having to use his arms. He realized his arms were tired, which was a strange thing, because wood can't get tired. Then he had to negotiate climbing down the back of the chair, as the old hag inched forward, until he was standing on the seat, his butt rubbing the oily gray hair of the old woman.

She stood, and turned, as he turned around, which put his semi-wooden phallus right at her eye level.

"Well," she wheezed. "What have we here? What a magnificent penis you have, boy!"

"Thank you," he said. He was thanking her for both helping him down, and for her compliment, and he meant both. His penis shrank to its normal seven inches.

"What's this?" panted the old woman. "Don't make it shrink, dear boy. I can't remember the last time I saw a strong young prick like that. Tis a balm to my poor old eyes."

"It shrinks when I tell the truth," explained Pinocchio.

"Does it then grow when you speak falsely?" asked the crone, tilting her head to one side.

"Indeed," he said.

"Well, then, my strong young puppet, lie to me most horribly, for I have just chosen what payment I shall require of you for my help."

"What's that?" asked Pinocchio.

"Not only have I not seen a penis for years, I've not had one in my dried up old pussy for years as well," she said. "I shall remedy that affliction this very day!"

"You want me to give you my sap?" asked Pinocchio, his painted eyes wide.

"For your sap, I care not," mumbled the old woman, tearing at the ragged cloth of her drab dress. "Tis the limb that delivers that sap that I desire."

Pinocchio stared in horror as the crone's body was revealed to him. Her skin hung in gray wrinkles. Her breasts were mere flaps of loose skin, with dark tips at their hanging bottoms, where they waved in the slight breeze at her waist. Between her legs was a thatch of gray hair, streaked with white. Her knees were knobby and swollen with arthritis. She gave him a gap-toothed smile that, had his skin been a bit softer, would have made it crawl.

"Come on, then," she wheedled. "Pay up, dear puppet."

He hopped down, and she put out a withered hand, to draw him to the wood nymph's bed. As she crawled painfully up on it, the oak tree began to wave its limbs, as if a stiff wind had suddenly come up.

"Come!" she called to Pinocchio. "Come lie to me, and with me." She cackled.

Pinocchio wanted to run away, but the old hag HAD helped him, if only to tell him how to shimmy down the tree. He wanted to close his eyes, but knew one can't close eyes that are merely paint. He was therefore vastly surprised, when the world went dark.

He willed his eyes open again, and the world appeared again. Something was happening to him. He was becoming more human each time he... That was it! When he used his penis, and squirted a woman full of sap, he became more human! Suddenly, the thought of fucking the old dried up bag of bones on the bed had a bright side!

He looked at the decrepit old woman.

"How much should I lie to you?" he asked. "We don't want the club between my legs to beat you to death."

"To die that way might not be such a bad thing," she wheezed. "Lie to me gently, at first, and we'll see if I need more falsehoods to make my day that much better."

Pinocchio climbed up onto the bed, his penis hanging down and pointing to the old woman's wrinkled abdomen. Her breasts had flowed sideways, and now resided in her armpits.

"You're not so bad looking," he said.

His prick grew eight inches.

The old woman's eyes grew round, and a dribble of drool left her mouth to slide down her cheek.

"HOLD!" she gasped. "I'm not sure I can take that much prevarication!"

Pinocchio, wanting to be more human as soon as possible, advanced. The crone's flabby pussy lips flowed aside as he began to slide into her. She jerked, so light, that the stiffness of his member acted like a second spine as it slid further into her, and lifted her sparse buttocks off the mattress.

"Ohhhh" she moaned. "The memories you bring to a tired old woman!"

Pinocchio learned a valuable lesson. The appearance of a woman on the outside, has nothing to do with the feel of a woman's insides.

"You feel warm and nice," he sighed. He immediately shrank four inches.

"Don't tell me the truth!" she screeched. "I was just getting used to it, foolish boy!"

"Pardon me," he said. "I am so stricken with your beauty that I had to tell the truth."

The crone was suddenly filled with a prick that was suddenly six inches longer.

"Ohhh yesss," she hissed. "Lie to me... just a little now."

"I wish I had never done this," said Pinocchio, beginning to pant.

He grew another three inches, and the woman felt much tighter and more luscious around his prick.

"Perfect!" she crowed. "Now, punish me most severely for all my bad deeds, and sour comments!"

Pinocchio punished her indeed. He poked and prodded and she flopped and wailed, her old body flapping like a rag in the wind.

When Pinocchio felt the sap beginning to flow, he didn't fight it at all. He relished in the soothing stuff as it flowed, in great spurts, into the crone's shaking belly.

The woman was much too old to bear children, so the magical sap looked for something else it could do.

Pinocchio's first notice that something strange was happening, was when he suddenly felt something against his chest... something soft. He had closed his eyes again, the better to enjoy the delicious feel of sap spurting from his prick. When he opened them, he almost shouted from fear. Beneath him was no elderly crone.

The sap had rejuvenated her flabby body. Her breasts had filled, as a balloon fills, becoming firm, and jutting out at the world again. Her skin, while it turned green, became firm and supple. Her joints became smooth, and the bones stopped scraping against each other. The color of her hair flowed, as the hair writhed, changing from gray, to white, and then to the color of the golden sun. Her eyes, in a smooth face, with ruby red lips, stared up at him, green as forest leaves. Her arms, strong again, crushed him to her chest. Her pussy, strong and young again, clasped his spurting prick almost painfully.

"What have you done to me!" she moaned, lifting her head to see unfamiliar, but remembered breasts, thrusting up off her chest. Her green eyes opened wide. "Don't' stop, whatever you do, please don't stop!"

"I could go forever," panted Pinocchio, even though he knew that wasn't, technically true any more. As a puppet, he COULD have gone forever, but as he became more human, he felt the drain of energy that human muscles extract.