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WingZ · Site Admin Joined: 15 Aug 2008 Posts: 127

Based on the Story by the Brothers Grimm

I. The Couple and the Witch
Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife….

“Well?” John Punzelli asked his wife.

“I don’t know, John,” answered Ann.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” John asked, slightly miffed. “It either changes color or it doesn’t. What’s there to know?!”

He and Ann had been trying for quite some time to have a baby and had not yet succeeded. It had become a bit of a hot topic for the both of them and whenever they discussed it, their voices took on a certain urgency. Ann had begun to show some symptoms and had taken a pregnancy test. John’s eagerness in awaiting the results caused his temper to become short. He quickly apologized.

“I think I’ll do things the old fashioned way,” said Ann. She was a pretty woman of 28 with shiny reddish blonde hair and enchanting blue eyes. It had originally been her dream to be an actress. She tried her hand at the stage and fell miserably. She might have never gotten back up had she not met John, a well-built and good natured cabinetmaker who was 2 years her senior. People talked often when they first started seeing each other: they were a mismatch; it would never work out, etc. They continued to talk even as John and Ann married, but the talk finally ceased when it was obvious that they were happily married…and had been that way for the past 5 years.

Only lack of child seemed to put a damper on things. Ann had wanted one, and so had John…. but they decided to wait. Two years after they were married, they decided they had waited long enough. They tried…. but nothing happened. They decided to hold off and try again. The word ‘infertility’ was too distant and horrid for either of them to want to try and comprehend.

“Oh yeah?” John asked.

“Yes,” replied Ann. “I’ll see a doctor.”

“In the meantime,” John said with a knowing smile. “We could always try again.” Ann gazed back at him seductively.

Though they lived in a distinctly middle class neighborhood, the property next to the Punzellis was anything but middle class. It was a large plot of land, nearly two times the size of John and Ann’s home. The plot was surrounded by a high wall to keep intruders out and ward off potential burglars from targeting the mansion like house that lay behind it. There was also a most beautiful garden that John and Ann could see from their bedroom window.

Despite the intrigue and overblown appearance, John and Ann weren’t the least bit curious about their neighbors. In fact, they had only spoken on one or two occasions…. and those occasions were perhaps one or two too many. The house, for all its size and grandeur was inhabited by a lone old woman. Her name was Johanna Wychel and she very closely resembled the grade school teacher every child wished they never had. Her silvery hair was tied into a strict bun and she wore round horn rimmed glasses. Her facial muscles were pulled into a perpetual frown. Despite being slightly built, her appearance was foreboding enough to intimidate the boldest of visitors. Add to this the gossip that her late husband had been a brutal captain in the Polish Mafia and there was no reason for anyone to venture behind those walls.

As John worked long hours, Ann often found herself alone. During many of these occasions, she would gaze out the window and look at Mrs. Wychel’s garden. The garden always made her feel a little sad: something that beautiful shouldn’t be encased by walls. She knew looking at it was no good for her and meant to stop it, but she never did.

During one particular day, Ann awoke with a bizarre craving for fresh lettuce. The crap they sold at the supermarket simply wouldn’t do: she wanted garden-grown. She mentioned this craving to John, who laughed at it. Ann supposed it was a bit ridiculous as well. Nonetheless…it could be a sign. Many of her friends had reported craving bizarre foods during pregnancy. Or…it could be another false alarm. Either way, she wanted lettuce.

Her craving persisted as they day went on, and once again she made the mistake of looking out her window. There, in Mrs. Wychel’s garden, she saw perfect heads of lettuce growing in a row. The thought that the lettuce probably wasn’t being put to any good use infuriated her. The only person living next to her was one ornery old woman: what did she need all that lettuce for? To torture her neighbor perhaps. Ann knew that was silly, but it sure as hell felt that way.

“John, I want lettuce,” Ann said when he arrived home from work.

“Here we go again,” said John. “You are turning into a rabbit, you know that?”

“I noticed Mrs. Wychel has plenty growing in her garden,” Ann remarked, ignoring him.

“Why don’t you ask her to spare you some?” John questioned.

“I tried the callbox on her gate,” Ann replied. “She pretended to not know who I was and told me to go away. Either she really is senile, or she’s a good faker.”

John sighed. “Would you like me to try?”

Ann nodded. “And you’d better not come back without any,” she joked.

Later that night, John ventured next door. He too tried the callbox, but received no answer. He thought about giving up and turning back, but then a thought struck him: what does that old witch need all that lettuce for? Surely, she wouldn’t mind if John had simply taken some. If caught, he’d be able to explain himself and they’d all probably be able to get a laugh out of it.

John walked around to the side of the wall protecting the garden. He found a large rock to stand on, positioned himself on top of it and jumped up. His arms enclosed around the top of the wall and he hung tight. Building cabinets had given him strength enough to pull himself up and over. A wave of guilt hit him as he approached the moonlit garden. Ann was right: it was nice looking. He felt like he shouldn’t do a thing to it. Then again….

Before he could debate the matter further, John found himself plucking lettuce from the ground. He got what he considered to be enough, stuffed them into a bag he brought and climbed back over the wall. Ann was still asleep when he joined her in bed. So much for recognition of his efforts.

The next day, when John came home from work he was embraced warmly by his wife. She had made them a salad for dinner using Mrs. Wychel’s lettuce. John wasn’t too fond of salads, but he didn’t want to offend his wife and ate up. He watched as Ann devoured her portion of the salad with near-orgasmic pleasure. Afterwards, she insisted that she thank him properly. All because of some lettuce, John thought amusedly.

The promise of great sex and his wife’s continual craving drove John back out the next night. This time, he didn’t even bother with the callbox. He’d simply scale the wall, pick up his greens and that would be the end of it. Piece of cake, John thought as he knelt down to pluck the lettuce.

“Who is there?” called a shrill voice. John froze in his spot. He was 6 feet tall and weighed 200 pounds, but Mrs. Wychel still gave him the creeps. Even when her husband had been alive, it was her that he feared most.

“Vat are you doing?” she asked sternly upon noticing that it was John.

“I…um…” John began.

“How dare you climb into my garden at night like a common thief!” she scolded. “You vill pay for zat!”

“Please, Mrs. Wychel” John said, trying not to let his irrational fear of a small old woman get to him. “My wife…she had a craving for your lettuce. We both tried to ask your permission, but the callbox…”

“You vill pay!” Mrs. Wychel repeated.

John backed fearfully away from the garden.

“Vait!” snapped Wychel. John stopped in his tracks obediently. “You may take vat you vill now,” she said with near-kindness. “But later, ven the seed hast sprung…..” Her face contorted itself into an evil grin and the old woman actually began to laugh.

John didn’t want to hear another word. He grabbed a few heads of lettuce and bolted over the fence. Ann looked at him with shocked amazement: it wasn’t often that she saw her husband get scared. John tried to tell her what happened, but a lump formed in his throat.

“Busted?” she asked.

He nodded. There would be no more trips over the fence. Ever. It was just as well, for after that, Ann’s craving disappeared.

II. Rapunzel
As it turned out, this was no false alarm. Ann ended up giving birth to a baby girl upon whom they bestowed the name Rachel Leticia Punzelli. Both Ann and John had the feeling that the baby would grow up into a beautiful young woman. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be around to witness it.

Rachel was 6 months old and already growing a fair amount of hair. Ann had just finished changing her diaper and then sang her a lullaby and put her down for a nap. Caring for her pride and joy had made her quite tired as well, and she decided to take a little nap of her own. When she awoke, the baby was gone.

Both she and John were devastated. They called the police, put up posters, and did everything in their power to get the child back. Alas, their efforts were to no avail. Crushed by their loss, Anna and John moved far away. Never once did they consider that their missing daughter was right next-door.

Rachel grew up having never known her parents. She had trace memories and saw the faces of a man and a woman in occasional dreams, but nothing more. For the first six years of her life, there was only one person that Rachel truly did know, and that woman was her beloved Nana. Nana was a funny looking old woman who talked funny and could be really mean sometimes, but Rachel loved her nonetheless. Nana took good care of her. She taught Rachel how to read and write and act like a young lady. Though not spoiled, Rachel was never left wanting.

‘Nana’ Wychel would have it no other way. Throughout all her years of marriage, she remained childless. This suited Harold fine at first, but when it brought her sorrow, they tried to conceive. Like the Punzellis after them, they had failed. Johanna’s womb was bare and beneath her outer toughness lay an inner sadness. When Harold died, her grief multiplied. She knew she was too old to be a mother, and instead turned her nurturing instincts to her garden, which she tended as if it were her own offspring. When she saw it violated by that peasant Punzelli, a great wave of anger overcame her. She vowed that she would make him pay, and made good on that vow while helping herself along the way.

Following Rachel’s disappearance from the Punzelli home, Johanna watched bitterly as her neighborhood was turned upside down in a search/investigation effort that ultimately yielded nothing. Nobody had any reason to suspect her of anything. She was, after all, but only an old woman. While the search went on and on, slowly dwindling with each passing day, Johanna cared for the child in private, enlisting the aid of the men and woman who had served her husband when she saw fit.

Even after the search came to a complete end, Johanna saw to it that Rachel led a sheltered life. She had come to love the child dearly and couldn’t risk losing her. Thus, as Rachel made the transformation from beautiful baby to even cuter child, she did so mostly in the privacy of Johanna’s spacious home.

Parenting turned out to be a challenge for a woman as old as Mrs. Wychel, who had never experienced anything like it before. At first, she found herself ill equipped to deal with the constant crying and tantrums and turned a cold indifference to them. She quickly learned that a gentle touch worked best most of the time and a harsh touch would suffice where a gentle one failed. Either way, the touch must be loving and it must be felt.

By the time Rachel was six, she was an adorable girl with long blonde hair that she absolutely refused to have cut. This refusal earned her the nickname of Rapunzel, a character in one of the many stories Nana had read to her. Though a more fluent speaker, reader and writer then most children her age, Rachel was somewhat at a disadvantage. For instance, she had only been outside the house a handful of time, and it was always in the company of Nana or one of Nana’s friends. She had never been allowed to wander outside on her own and the few times she had tried, she had been severely punished.

Additionally, Rachel still wore diapers. When the girl was nearly 3, Johanna had made the effort to train her. As was the case with most children of that age, Rachel did not take to the idea kindly. Johanna decided not to push it: if the child wished to stay in diapers, she would stay in diapers. What the rest of the world thought about it was none of their business.

If anything, the diapers helped strengthen the relationship between Johanna and Rachel. Whenever Rachel was wet or messy, she would ask Nana for a change and Nana would clean her up and put her into fresh diapers. Nana never scolded Rachel for having an accident and never treated her as if her diapers made her somewhat inferior. Johanna came to realize that as long as Rachel was diapered, she would always be her baby. Thus, Johanna would always feel needed. She made up her mind to continue to raise Rachel the way she had been raising her no matter what. She did not have many years left on this planet, and they might as well be happy ones.

When Rachel was 6, Johanna suffered a stroke. She survived, luckily, and without any significant damage. However, the stroke did make Johanna realize that her time left was short and that if she were to pass on, Rachel would be utterly helpless on her own and have no clue as to the nature of the world that lay before her. Thus, Johanna decided to expose the girl to life outside of her house. By this point in time, the disappearance of Rachel Punzelli was a thing of the past and nobody would link the missing girl to her daughter Rachel.

Rachel was finally potty-trained. She didn’t like using the potty and missed her diapers, but she did as Nana told her nonetheless. After that was taken care of, Rachel was sent to a private all-girls school. Being away from Nana scared her at first, but she fit in quickly and found herself enamored with her classmates and teachers.

Six more years had passed and Johanna was not well. She noticed that Rachel had begun to change. Her body was slowly becoming that of a woman. Her attitude had changed as well and she began to rebel. Her little Rapunzel was turning against her and she didn’t like it one bit. She had tried talking to the girl, but none of her words seemed to be getting through.

III. The Tower
One day shortly after she turned 12, Rachel was late returning home from school and refused to tell Johanna where she had been. For Johanna, this was the last straw. She grabbed Rachel by her long blonde hair and dragged her off to a tower that lay at the south end of her property. The tower had once served as her late husband’s observatory (he was quite fond of gazing at stars during his twilight years). Now, it would serve as Rachel’s new home.

As expected, Rachel was uncooperative. The girl kicked and screamed and called her dirty names. Johanna was given no choice but to give her a spanking and wash her mouth out with soap. After this, the girl was humbled, but still not quite humble enough for Johanna’s purposes. Johanna decided to put her back in diapers as well. Rachel was pleading and begging, but in the end she lay diapered and helpless and locked in her room atop the tower. Johanna thought it best: not only was her daughter disobedient, but she was at an age where she might become curious and try to discover the true origins of her past. As she couldn’t stand to lose her, the tower was Johanna’s way of making sure that Rachel would be hers forever.

In retrospect, Rachel supposed it would have been easier just to tell Nana where she had been. That might have earned her a spanking, but nothing else. Instead, her youthful pride and arrogance had gotten the better of her and she had been reluctant. She had paid for it dearly.
“Where ver you?” Nana asked in her old woman’s croak. “You are half hour late.”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and walked past her. She and some friends had cut their final class of the day and gone to see a movie. It was nothing but harmless fun, but Nana would make it out to be the Nurenburg Trial. She was tired of that woman’s constant pestering and overprotective nature.

“I ask you question,” Nana said sternly.

“Nowhere,” Rachel mumbled.

“What vas dat?”

“I said nowhere!”

“Why do you lie to me?”

“Nana, I’m tired of you and you’re 20 questions crap,” Rachel said rudely and tried to retreat to her room. She was quite surprised when Nana stopped her by grabbing a great big handful of her long blonde hair. “Oww!” she yelped.

“I take care of you and this is how you repay me?!” Nana shrieked. “I put up vit dis for too long. No more!”

“Oww!” Rachel continued to whine. “Nana!”

The old woman was surprisingly strong for her age and size and Rachel could not break free. She continued to struggle and curse as Nana dragged her outside and behind the house. Rachel wondered where they might be going and her mouth dropped when she saw the observation tower. What the hell could be up there, she wondered.

Nana dragged Rachel all the way up the winding spiral staircase and the a room at the top.

“This is your room from now on,” Nana said sternly. “You don’t leave anymore.”

“Get real!” Rachel snapped and tried to leave. Nana stood fast, blocking the door. When Rachel tried to shove her aside, she found her hands quickly pinned behind her back.

“Nana, you bitch!” Rachel hissed and quickly regretted it. Nana sat down in an old fashioned rocking chair and pulled Rachel across her lap. Up came her skirt and down came her panties. She was given an old-fashioned spanking and was red (both her face and her bottom) and crying by the time the ordeal was finished. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was forced to hold a yucky bar of soap in her mouth the entire time.
“Now,” said Nana in a matter-of-fact tone. “I vill bring you meal three times a day and maybe some books so that you won’t be bored. There is no bathroom up here, so you vill wear diapers.”

“Diapers?” Rachel asked, her voice a hoarse choke. Nana nodded slowly and Rachel began to beg fearfully. “Please, Nana…. I’ll be good. I won’t sneak out anymore. I won’t say any more bad words. I….”

“I know you won’t, child,” said Nana as she slid several thick diapers under Rachel’s bottom. “But is too late. You vill learn and you vill pay.”

Rachel continued to bawl as a pair of pink plastic panties was slid on over her diapers.

“Nana…” she protested as the old woman turned to leave.

“Be good, my child,” said Nana.

A moment later, the door was shut and locked with chilling finality and Rachel collapsed onto her bed remembered Nana’s chilling decree: you vill pay!

Time passed and Rachel got used to her life and her diapers. She quickly grew tired of her confines, and had it not been for the fresh air the window provided and the books that Nana gave her, she would have gone mad from boredom. As promised, she received her 3 meals a day and devoured each one as if it was her last, regardless of the quality or of her appetite.

The diapers were considerably harder to adjust to. She remembered needing to urinate very badly and banging on the door and demanding to be let out. She tried everything: crossing her legs, hopping around on one foot, etc. In the end, however, all it amounted to was a small pool of pee in her diapers that she had to live with for a few uncomfortable hours until she was changed (like meals, her diapers were changed 3 times a day). Messing in her diapers had been an even worse experience, and with each full diaper Rachel began to wonder what she had done to deserve this and if her Nana, whom she had always been fond of, was a truly evil person (and if not, had the old age driven her senile)?

Eventually, the long winding staircase that led to Rachel’s room became too much for Johanna to climb. Each time she tried, it brought a sharp pain to her knee. This left Johanna in a bit of a predicament: she couldn’t allow the girl to starve nor could she afford to let her go. There was one solution, but she doubted it would work. Nonetheless, it had to be worth a try.

When Nana told Rachel to let down her hair and climb up, Rachel flatly refused. The old lady must be nuts, she thought to herself. Several hours later, however, she was very hungry and very tired of sitting in disgusting diapers. Thus, she recanted and the old woman climbed on up to feed her and change her. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as Rachel thought it would: all the extra strength conditioners she had used over the past 2 years had made her hair very strong.

Thus, whenever Johanna needed to see her daughter, she would simply say, “Rapunzel, let down you’re golden hair.” If that didn’t work, she would yell. Either way, Rachel always complied and that was how they lived for several years.

IV. The Prince
Enrico DosPrincipe cursed loudly after trying the ignition yet again. Slowly, he came to the grim realization that his car simply wouldn’t start. Though it frustrated him, it served as no real surprise. Like everything and everyone else in his life, his car had failed him.

Enrico was 18 years old, handsome and wiry with smooth tan skin and bright eyes. He came from a large Dominican family of several siblings and his father owned a successful business. The business, in fact, was the main source of Enrico’s grief. He had wanted in for a long time. His father knew this and exploited in unfairly. It was always, “ if you don’t go to college or you won’t be in the business” or “if you don’t be a good role model for your brothers, you won’t be in the business.” Enrico had finally grown tired of this and told his old man he could shove the business where the sun doesn’t shine. After disavowing himself of all the trappings and responsibilities of his family, he set off to make his own name in the world at the tender age of 18.

Enrico’s travels had taken him a good distance from home yet nowhere near his goal. The young man who had always been ‘Rico Prince’ to his friends soon found himself to be ‘miscellaneous bum’ to the world at large. He seldom held a job for more then a week or two at a time and found himself traveling from town to town, usually because he got into trouble with a girl or with an employer. He had been on the move when his car broke down and he didn’t know where he was.

Enrico got out of his car to ask for directions. Unfortunately, he found nobody in sight. He was behind a large, fenced in piece of land that must have belonged to a senator or somebody. Thinking of the owner of the house made him think of his father and his nose wrinkled with resentment. He was about to leave when something caught his attention.

He heard singing, and it wasn’t just any singing but it was good singing, beautiful singing, the kind of singing you associate with angels and birds and anything of that nature. Enrico turned around. Behind the wall lay an immensely tall tower. In a room atop that tower was an immensely beautiful girl. She was about his age with hair that seemed impossible long and was a perfect golden hue. Enrico was mesmerized.

He tried waving to the girl, but she either couldn’t see him from atop the tower or wouldn’t acknowledge him. Undaunted, he climbed over the gate and walked up to the tower. There was a door, but it had been sealed shut. He kicked at it, but it wouldn’t budge. Frustrated, he left. Besides, wasn’t it a girl that had gotten him thrown out of the last town he was in?

Enrico found a job and checked into a cheap motel. That night, instead of forcing himself to forget about home or trying to envision the great life that lay ahead of him, he thought about the girl in the tower. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was achingly beautiful. Enrico thought about her unlike he thought about any girl in the past. He wasn’t merely drawn to her sexually, but he felt as if he wanted to know everything about her. He was glad to be away from home. His friends would think he would gave gone soft had he shared his thoughts with them

The next day, Enrico went to work loading heavy boxes off of trucks at a warehouse. By the time his lunch break rolled around, he was sore and sick of his coworkers mocking him with their contemptuous stares. At this point, his car was working again and he had half a mind to leave. However, he didn’t leave: he drove back to the spot outside the tower and watched.

Once again, the girl took no notice of him. He reckoned that he would be pretty hard to see from all the way up there and thought nothing of it. As he continued to watch, an old woman approached the foot of the tower. Enrico thought she was one of the meanest looking old hags he had ever seen: she walked with a slight hunch and even at a distance, he could see how haggard and unfriendly her face was.

“Rapunzel, let down your golden hair!” the witchlike woman commanded.

Enrico watched in disbelief as the girl let down her hair and the woman climbed up into the window. He did a double take and thought once again of leaving. There was definitely something strange going on around here. Once again, he opted to stay.

Later that night, when his work was done and he was fairly sure everyone was asleep, Enrico snuck back to the estate. He climbed the wall and crept up towards the tower. He knew what he was doing was risky and he faced some bleak consequences if caught, but he just had to see her again.

“Rapunzel,” he called in a hoarse whisper and received no answer.

“Yo Rapunzel!” he yelled. He then adjusted his tone to sound more like the old woman. “Let down your golden hair.”

He doubted it would work. In fact, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t work. He readied himself to make a dash for the gate before the cops arrived. Instead, he marveled as a line of blonde hair fell from the window. Enrico shrugged and began climbing.

There was a moment of mutual horror when he reached the top. Enrico was surprised to see that she was just as beautiful up close. Rachel had been expecting Nana, not a stranger. The fact that the stranger was a guy and a guy that knew her name (or nickname at least) frightened her badly and she opened her mouth to scream. Even Nana with her cruelty was better then this.

Enrico quickly clamped his hand over her mouth.

“Don’t scream,” he said softly. She responded by biting his hand until he withdrew. She then thrust her foot between his legs and he fell to the ground in pain.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?!” she asked. Though she sounded somewhat offended, there was no mistaking the fear that still lingered in her voice.

“I heard you singing,” Enrico said through clenched teeth as he clutched his wounded manhood. “And then I saw you. You’re so beautiful.”

Rachel looked at him questioningly. Her contact with the opposite gender had been kept at a bare minimum all throughout her entire life. The notion of a man finding her attractive was new and exciting to her. She helped him to his feet and allowed him to sit beside her on her bed.

“Is your name really Rapunzel?” he asked at last.

“My nickname,” answered Rachel. “My real name is Rachel. Rapunzel is just what Nana calls me.”

“That woman is your nana?” Enrico questioned.

“I never knew my real parents,” Rachel said with a hint of sorrow. Just then, Enrico felt very guilty for having said such hateful things to his father. “So who are you?”

“Enrico DosPrincipe, at your service,” said Enrico as he kissed her hand tenderly. She blushed and giggled at the same time. Enrico then went on to explain how he had come to leave home and how his quest to make a name for himself had failed remarkably. Rachel listened with fascination. She had seen very little of the world and Enrico’s tales of the city fascinated her.

“Why do you live in a tower?” Enrico questioned. Then, politely added, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

Rachel explained about how Nana had one day cruelly deposited here and thus she had lived ever since. After 5 years of captivity, she was very lonely.

“Oh man,” Enrico exclaimed.

“That’s not even the worst part,” said Rachel. She then lifted up her nightshirt and revealed to him her diapers.

“She won’t even let you out to use the bathroom?” Enrico questioned.

Rachel shook her head. Enrico frowned. His own father’s occasional cruelty was nothing compared to the lengths that this sick old woman had gone to to control her child. Enrico decided something must be done.

“Listen,” he said, his tone growing serious. “If I can get you out of here, will you go away with me?”

Rachel’s jaw dropped. She had never been ‘away’ and especially with a stranger. The prospect of having this degree of freedom excited her. At the same time, she felt guilty and frightened. Nana had raised her and cared for her. What right did she have to abandon her like this? She was also afraid of what Nana might do should she discover Rachel missing. Though Nana didn’t talk about her past often, Rachel knew enough to be certain that Johanna Wychel was not a person people wanted to mess with.

“Yes, I’ll go with you,” she said at last. Enrico smiled triumphantly.

“The only problem is that I have no way of getting out of this tower,” she pointed out. “And I don’t think you can sneak a ladder over the gate.”

Enrico frowned.

Rachel frowned as well. It was a nice dream while it lasted, but it appeared to be over. Or was it? During her spare time (which was pretty much her entire existence), Rachel had become quite proficient at sewing and knitting. She surmised that she would be able to construct a ladder or a rope of some sort…if provided with the right material. She told this to Enrico, who said he would gladly oblige.

“Each time you visit me, bring me some canvas,” she instructed.

“Is there anything else?” he asked.

“Umm…a fresh change of diapers and some powder for my rash,” she said with embarrassed sorrow.

“It’s OK,” said Enrico, gently kissing her head. “I don’t care that you wear diapers. Once we get out of here, I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Rachel beamed and kissed him back on the lips.

V. Treachery and Deceit
Thus it was arranged: Enrico would show up every night while the old woman slept. He brought with him some canvas and some fresh diapers as promised and turned away respectfully while she changed. By his third visit, they had become close enough for him to not have to turn around and by his fifth visit; he was changing her diapers himself.

For Enrico, who had several younger siblings, it was not a new experience. He would sit on the bed with her legs in his lap. Gripping her ankles, she would raise her behind and allow him to slide off her plastic panties and wet/dirty diapers. He would clean her gently with a wipe and delicately apply sweet smelling baby powder before re-diapering her. This was usually the last thing he did before tucking her into bed and giving her a gentle kiss goodnight (just as the old woman had done years before). This arrangement succeeded for many nights, and despite her captivity, Rachel found herself experiencing more and more happiness with each day that passed.

She was so happy, in fact, that she became careless in her manner. One day, Nana called for her to let down her hair so that she could receive lunch. Rachel did so, as usual. Without thinking, she then began combing her hair with Nana still in the room.

“Why do you do this?” she asked.

“Because that’s the way he likes it,” Rachel muttered absent-mindedly.

“Who es he?” Nana asked with sudden ferocity in her voice. Rachel froze.

“Nobody,” she said without much conviction. Denial was a child’s trick, and at age 17, it had failed her long ago.

Johanna understood in a flash. It was a boy. The child had been seeing a boy behind her back!

“You wicked child!” she said harshly. “I go to great lengths to protect you and then you lie to me?!”

“Nana…” Rachel began, but that was as far as she got. The old woman seized her wrists and prepared to administer a spanking. It was just as it had been when she was 12, only Rachel had grown bigger since then and Nana had grown older. Thus, Rachel stood a better chance of overpowering her wicked mother. Once she did, she planned on running away and never looking back.

Johanna had anticipated resistance and thus brought with her the proper tools. Just when Rachel felt like she might break free, her hands were snapped into a pair of handcuffs. She began to curse and scream, but that too was brought to a halt as a large gag was plunged deep into her mouth. Rachel was forced to endure another painful spanking. The worst, however, was yet to come.

Rachel’s eyes went wide when she saw that Nana had scissors. She squirmed and shook her head and screamed into her gag, all to no avail. Nana cut off all of her beautiful hair in several swift strokes. Rachel fell to the floor in a crying heap. Just when she thought that things couldn’t get any worse, she soon found herself to be mistaken.

“Is everything OK up here, Mrs. Wychel?” asked a large, broad-shouldered man that Rachel knew as Uncle Fred. Fred Drobak had been one of Harold Wychel’s loyal bodyguards and button men. Following the old man’s death (of natural causes), he loaned out his services to his boss’s widow (for a generous sum). As was the case with John Punzelli, Johanna frightened him a lot more then Harold ever did. The woman was downright mad. For example, one of his first tasks had been to abduct the baby girl next door. That made his stomach turn, and he was a stone cold killer. Now, Mrs. Wychel had summoned him to deal with the very same baby girl, only not a baby any more.

“Take this rotten child from my sight,” she said with chilling sharpness. “Take her someplace far avay and leave her. Let her see how tough life is like without her loving Nana.”

Fred balked. Once Johanna focused her cold eyes on him, however, he got moving. He took the squirming crying girl into his arms, descended the tower stairs and drove her someplace far away.

That evening, Enrico returned to the tower as he always did and called for Rachel to let down her hair so he could climb on up. He smiled when he saw the familiar blonde locks and climbed up to the top. When he did, his heart froze. Rachel wasn’t there, but the old woman was. She was wearing a blonde wig…. made of his love’s hair.

She stared at him with cruel malice, her wrinkled flesh and narrow eyes giving her the look of a Medieval ogre.

“You looking for somebody?” she asked.

A lump formed in his throat. “Where’s Rachel?” he asked weakly.

“Gone,” said the old woman.

“Gone?!” Enrico asked, startled.

“Gone,” the old woman repeated. “She no like you, I guess. So she left. You no see my Rapunzel anymore. She is gone forever, and you should be too.”

Enrico’s chest heaved with deep, heavy breaths. Nothing he had ever experienced had hurt as much as the old woman’s words. Even the falling out with his father hadn’t been this bad. As the witch smiled mischievously, Enrico turned and faced the tower window. It was a hell of a long way down, but he had nothing left to lose.

“Rachel!” he cried, and then jumped.

VI. The Blind Wanderer
Enrico fell to the ground with a hideous thud. He saw nothing at first, and reasoned that he must be dead. However, his limbs still throbbed with pain. Miraculously, he was still alive. He was alive, but he was blind. The fall had connected with his head with enough force to rob him of his sight…. and control of his bladder as well. Worse still was the knowledge that Rachel was lost to him. He uttered a breathless scream and passed out.

When Enrico awoke, he was in a hospital. A doctor informed him that he was both blind and incontinent. He would need to wear diapers from now on. There was also a police officer that wished to speak with him, but Enrico refused to talk. The loss of Rachel was something he felt partly responsible for and he decided to bear the grief privately. The police eventually gave up and he was discharged.

Enrico spent countless days wandering the streets as a beggar. He frequently called out Rachel’s name in hope that she would still be alive and answer him. This drew him discerning looks from passersby who envisioned him a raving derelict. Some found it in their hearts to give him money, others took him into their homes where they gave him a meal and changed his diapers. With all the cruel people in the world, it was a miracle that Enrico survived as long as he did.

VII. Discovery and Redemption
One day, Enrico was sitting on a corner with his tin can out and open for donations. Usually, one out of every five people stopped to donate. Others steered clear from him and a few had the audacity to demean and insult him. Today, however, was not a normal day.

“Lookit that disgusting guy over there!” called the voice of a teenage male.

“He smells so bad,” added an adolescent female.

“Hey dumbass, why don’t you take a shower?” added another.

“I’m blind,” Enrico said feebly. If this was but a month ago, he wouldn’t have stood for such mockery. He would have been at them in a second. However, this was now and he had learned much since then. He bore it down the best he could.

“Yeah….but are you also deaf?” asked one of the voices.

“Howabout RETARDED,” said another.

“Lookit…..he even wears diapers like a baby.”

“Eww…..no wonder he stinks.”

“Don’t you kids know better than to pick on those who are less fortunate?” Enrico asked indignantly.

This drew a raucous wave of laughter and the no-good juveniles began throwing rocks at him. Enrico slowly rose and walked away. His legs still worked fine, and though he didn’t know where he was going, wherever it was had to be better then here.

“Hey!” said a voice. Great, Enrico thought. More trouble. “hey fella.”

Enrico stopped.

“You allright there, man?” the voice asked. “You need a place to stay or something?”

Enrico nodded.

“Well….come on in. Get you fixed up.”

Enrico accepted the offer graciously and allowed the man to lead him into the house. He was given a bath and a warm meal and a bed and was profoundly grateful to the man (who introduced himself as Fred) and his family.

That night, Enrico’s sleep was interrupted by the sound of sweet singing. The voice sounded familiar, but Enrico knew he must be dreaming. Dreaming or not, the voice persisted and Enrico followed it to its source.

The source turned out to be a staircase that led to Fred’s basement. Enrico tumbled down the stairs and succeeded in knocking himself out. Afterwards, the dream got even weirder. He could hear Rachel (he was sure it was her) weeping and calling his name.

“Enrico,” she said and continued to weep.

It wasn’t fair. Though Uncle Fred had treated her decently (probably better then the old woman would have if she had stayed), she was always lonely and dreamed often of Enrico. She imagined him entering heroically and taking her gallantly away. Now he finally came…. only for him to drop dead at her feet.

“I’m not dead,” he said groggily. He could sense colors around him, and then, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Rachel’s face came into focus.

“Rachel?” he asked questioningly.

She hugged him tightly and helped him to his feet, just as she had done when they first met. She took notice of his diapers and he blushed embarrassingly. With renewed strength, he led her back up the stairs.

“Hey!” called Fred Drobak. “What’s going on here? Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out of my way,” Enrico said gruffly, poking him in the chest with his cane.

Fred could have easily snapped the cane (and Enrico) in half, but he didn’t. He had seen (and caused) enough suffering to last a lifetime. He was no longer a zealous young hood eager to earn money, but now a man with a family. Enough was enough; he was drawing the line.

“The hell with that loony old bat,” he said, and allowed Enrico to pass.

Enrico found his car in the garage. Fred had been ordered to stash it away; Johanna didn’t want any evidence linking her property to Enrico. Following the fall, Fred had thus stashed the car (as ordered) and deposited Enrico not far from a hospital. Neither he nor the old woman expected to hear from Enrico again.

“Where shall we go?” Rachel asked.

“The city,” replied Enrico as they drove off.

VIII. The End
It took several days to get back to the city. During that time, the young couple more or less lived out of Enrico’s car. They had no money and little food, but they still had each other. Enrico found himself recovering at a miraculous rate: not only was his eyesight back to normal, but his head no longer throbbed and by the end of the third day, he no longer needed diapers.

There was little fanfare when Enrico drove into his neighborhood. At first, it was almost like everyone had forgotten him. Then, all of the sudden, he began to see the familiar faces. There was his brother Manny, his sister Lana, his friend Frankie Alomar. All were soon gathered around his car with questioning glances.

“Enrico!” exclaimed Manny, who was 3 years his younger. “Es tu?”

“Es mi,” Enrico replied.

“Quien es la gringa?” asked Frankie.

“Es mi esposa?”

“Su esposa?!” Lana questioned. She was a year older than Manny.

“Si,” Enrico answered proudly.

“Dad’s gonna flip,” said Manny.

“Let him,” Enrico answered boldly.

Fernando DosPrincipe did not flip. Instead, he was just glad to have his son home, as was his wife. Following Enrico’s departure, he felt guilty. At first, he thought he was teaching his son a valuable lesson. Then, he slowly came to realize the damage he had done. Enrico came back penniless and with a strange young woman, but Fernando was glad to take him any which way he came.

Soon, the family got to know Rachel and accepted her as one of their own. Enrico, who had toughened up considerably took a job with his father’s company: starting low on the ladder and quickly earning his way up. He and Rachel were able to move into a penthouse apartment in the neighborhood. Rachel remarked that it reminded her of the tower, but Enrico pointed out that she was free to leave any time. Rachel quickly told him she had no intention of abandoning him.

Rachel’s hair grew back to its magnificent length in time for her and Enrico to be married. The wedding was attended by roughly half the neighborhood. Not too long after they were married, Enrico asked Rachel if she was content to remain in diapers.

“Only if you are there to change me,” she replied with girlish enthusiasm.

Enrico said that he always would be.

Not too long after that, Rachel became pregnant. The infertility that had brought upon the twisted legacy of Rapunzel came to an end and everyone lived happily ever after (except for Johanna…who died bitter and alone, and John and Ann…who never got to see their child grow up). The end.