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Fairy Story

By: gauchecritic



 If you are offended by gay sex, incest, transexuals or group sex then you can probably avoid most of them by skipping a couple of paragraphs. If, on the other hand you like a laugh then I’d recommend giving it a miss altogether. Onward.

In a pleasant land far across the sea and long, long ago (longer even than your own grandmother can remember) there lived a studly King and his beautiful Queen.

King Studly and Queen B. reigned in happiness and a certain lascivious style. Royal balls were a regular occurrence in their kingdom and horny young princes along with fetching virgin princesses (all with valid proof that they were both virginal and aged 18 or over) vied for invitations to these grand affairs of state.

The uncouth and ragged people came to blows when seeking work at the royal palace for as everyone knew, even though they paid only minimum wage, what other job would give them the opportunity to suck off a handsome prince or shoot their seed over the royal bellies and breasts of those virgin princesses?

Naturally, in order to avoid embarrassing and unwanted bastard heirs all royalty practised oral and/or anal assiduously. Never once was a princely cock driven through the royal front gates, always and like tradesmen the princesses succumbed to lust through the back door. This also had the unfortunate effect of right Royal legitimate offspring being few and far between.

Due to this Royal proclivity, sadly, King Studly and Queen B. had not conceived a child in 16 years of marriage. Not through want of trying, just preferring the wrong holes.

One day the King, whilst screwing the scullery boy (18), became suddenly enamoured of the idea of a ‘piece of pussy’. At the very thought he began ramming harder and more fiercely into the scullery lad’s 18 year old arse than ever before, cumming with such ferocity he shot the poor lad into the cold fireplace, upsetting a pot of porridge. 

Grinning broadly and wiping both the cook’s porridge and the King’s from his body the scullery boy (18) watched as King Studly cast about the kitchen for fresh minge to assuage his hunger. As luck and fate would have it, Queen B was at that very moment taking her morning constitutional around the stable master’s man meat and her daily vitamin intake from a handy palace guard.

In the kitchens the King found first, the lower pantry girl, whose lower pantry was welcoming but hardly embracing. Rosamund the chief-below-stairs girl, of some 50 years was next to receive the King’s pleasure. Her below-stairs were unkempt and in sore need of a spring clean but the King was not to be discouraged and was soon ploughing a long furrow amongst the undergrowth. Rosamund came quickly and quietly much to King Studly’s chagrin. Then he spied the newest serving wench, a tender, fresh faced, spring-titted, innocent 18 year old.

This lithe and lively girl was not only virgin but also quite naïve about what her duties in the palace would entail as she’d not been able to attend the induction course being somewhat hampered by her evil father’s intent of giving her his own induction upon her 18th birthday. 

Fortunately she had escaped his incestual indoctrination and though he had managed to shave her pussy bear in preparation, this fair faced, flaxen haired beauty had had the wit to keep a heavy kitchen ladle hidden within her skirts which she wielded with the strength of virtue to render her father incapable. Seeing him lying dazed and confused the still-virginal youth, feeling great sorrow and remorse for her fallen father gave him a quick hand-shandy before fleeing to seek the lurid shelter of the Palace kitchens.

Hopping from foot to foot the King listened rather impatiently to the serving wench’s miserable tale, perking slightly at the mention of bare beaver and was greatly relieved when the poor wretch’s mother made a timely (and comely) appearance to investigate. Immediately, upon noticing the Royal boner the mother made no more ado than to lift her clouts and offer of herself that which her daughter had singularly failed to do.

“Mother!” cried Hermione (for that was her name) “Mother, why do you bare your maidenhood to the king?”

And her mother replied from her position across the kitchen chopping block “To save you daughter, from Wroyal wrath. If you had the wit for which you are renowned then you would realise that the Noblest before you seeks oblige. Besides which, it’s hardly ‘maiden’ is it?”

“Now if you want to stay a ‘serving wench’ to the King” continued her mother, “And if it please you Lord?” she said to Studly, to which he smiled benignly then continued again “kindly serve the Royal appendage to it’s waiting fur vessel” pointing to her now glistening pussy. (For servants twats were fare game for any of the Royal retinue, bastards notwithstanding)

Hermione, realising her position held more ‘duties’ than she had bargained for knelt subserviently before the Royal crotch, whereupon she swiftly disgorged the kingly appendage from its silk and satin breeks. To her surprise, Hermione found Studly to be of something less than King size, in fact (if her wicked father was anything to go by) the Royal length was rather average.

Holding the purple sceptre in two hands and switching her glance back and forth between her mother’s waiting hole and the Kingly knob, Hermione hesitated at a loss as to what exactly she was meant to be doing.

By this time the King was becoming somewhat angry at the delay and began stepping forward to claim his wenchly prerogative. Hermione, sensing the moment, turned her face to the Royal crotch and suddenly found herself with a mouth full of noble nob-end.

“Now there’s a novelty.” Cried King Studly as he began to rake his whole length between the quite stunned but suddenly willing, Hermione’s full, sensuous, rose red lips. Not once did Hermione protest nor gag at the invasion of this honourable member. 

“Hermione” Wailed the hirsute mother. “His Highness wishes mott not mouth. Spit him out at once you dirty girl.” But Hermione was not to broken from her self-imposed task and swallowed voraciously of the Royal Rod and the King, enchanted by this turn of events began fucking her mouth in earnest to Hermione’s delight as she savoured the wet slap of majestic bollocks against her delicate chin. Full length (and handsome girth) did King Studly rivet her face.

“It seems your dirty daughter has a zest for throat fucking,” Said the King to Hermione’s mother.

“Yes” said her mother, brightening at this turn of Royal favour. “‘Tis a new one on me your Lordliness. I’m sure I don’t know where she learned such a thing”

“As you know” began Studly to Hermione’s mother, “It is the Royal prerogative to have the wench cum first, as is fitting, but your heavenly daughter seems not to be even approaching that blessed enjoyment and mayhap continue slurping on the Purple Staff of State until even I can respond only in manly terms.”

“Yes your Honour.” Said the mother going on to apologise profusely for her daughter’s lack of tact and social grace.

“Now now” Intoned the King, “She is simply untrained in the proper respects of our naughty society. “Come come” He beckoned and indicating the still felating Hermione “Give her surcease from this zesty oral display. Have at her and guide her home.”

Following the King’s wishes the mother knelt deftly behind her daughter and, lifting her clouts to her trim and youthful waist she reached her ageing hand to her daughter’s shaven sanctity.

Hermione (who’s speech was obviously impeded) made cry at this timely imposition but, unwilling to relinquish her first taste of manhood relinquished instead her maidenhead to her mother’s fingers.

Fearing completion too soon, the King urged Hermione’s mother “The clit, the clit old woman, on your back and have at your daughter’s clit with your tongue” and naturally with a skilled tongue at the helm, Hermione was gasping with that greatest pleasure seemingly within seconds. Washing her mother’s face with her juices and almost at once, even whilst shuddering through her second and third orgasms Hermione felt honour-bound to return that sweetest of favours. Which is how His Royal Highness left them, to seek out pastures new for his still throbbing purple.

* * *

Queen B lay sated for the moment, luxuriating in the organic fluid bath of the commons from her latest romp. Of a sudden, from all sides, internal and external she heard a faraway muted yet strident thudding noise. A deliberate noise. A quite metronomic noise. Somewhat fearful, she became fully awake and lay perfectly still, listening, feeling the noise. Incessant and drawing closer. As her Reverend Mother had taught her she drew the growing fear into herself. Absorbed it. Made it part of her. Let it dissipate. Then she remembered the words of her master “Fear is borne of ignorance. From fear comes anger. From anger comes the Dark Side.”

Her fear conquered, Queen B heard the sound for what it plainly was. Her biological clock was ticking. Relentlessly. Remorselessly. “Oh merciful Heavens.” She cried. “I am without child. The King my only true love is without issue”

At this very moment King Studly entered the straw strewn stable.

“Fear not my Queen, my Lady, my Love. Kinder from a kindred and a King are my gift to you My Princess Bride.” So saying, King Studly took his wife in blissful conjugation to that high peak of awareness and gave of himself, to himself, a child and heir. (And shortly afterwards in celebration he gave her one up the arse as well)

9 MONTHS LATER… On the Blasted Heath.

First Witch: When shall we three meet again?

Second Witch: (Whispering) you forgot the Hubble bubble toil and trouble.

First Witch: Hubble what?

Second Witch: Hubble bubble toil and trouble.

Third Witch: And the frog of newt and bat of toad. (The two witches stare with disgust at the third)

   Well. (She sulks)

First Witch: Never mind all that. When’s the next meeting?

Third Witch: Thursday week.

Second Witch (searching Organiser): Thursday’s no good for me.

Third Witch (Glaring): Well Friday then?

Second Witch: What date is that?

First Witch: (squinting at screen of Palm-Pilot) Thirty first. (Pause) Day before All Saints.

Second and third Witch: (Cackling) Aaaaaahahahaaaa- What’s that?

Second Witch: That evil device.

Third Witch: Black magickal box.

Second Witch: That giveth of it’s own light.

Third Witch: With mystical Runes engraved therein.

Second Witch: Devilish, evil, powerful magic.

(The two Witches shun the first and cower)

First Witch: It’s Ok. It’s all right. Don’t be frightened. It’s Linux.

(The two Witches relax visibly)

Second Witch: Well thank Torvald for that.

Third Witch: So the 31st then. All Hallows Eventide. Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.

First and Second Witch: Hallowe’en. Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.

Third Witch: Can someone give me a lift back? 

First Witch: What’s wrong with your broom?

Third Witch: Drive shaft’s knackered. And the bristles need tuning.

First Witch: (Indicates large broomstick) Jump on then. Good job I brought the S.U.B

(Exeunt on broomsticks)

(Thunder and lightning)

(Enter Glinda the Good Witch)

Glinda: Haaahahahaaaaaaaa… Oh shit. Missed them again. (Exit)

FRIDAY WEEK.

Queen B was delivered of a beautiful daughter, a daughter fit for a king. The child was born October 31 at 3.24am. Attending:

2 physicians, (plus toads, nightshade, foxglove, cow’s udder, slugs (they were out of leaches) and various, very shiny, forbidding and often piercingly sharp instruments of Pracktical Medicine)

4 mid-wives

2 old-wives (useful for tales)

6 ladies-in-waiting (they hadn’t saved enough for the operation yet, though they were taking the hormones and dressing the part)

3 French hens (clucking loudly)

1 page-boy (To turn the leaves of the physician’s books)

And every single one dressed in fancy dress (no witches though which was unusual) in preparation for the masked ball and shenanigans planned for that night.

This being a Royal birth there was no blood, no afterbirth, no complications and a very limited (by a handy ball gag) amount of cursing and swearing.

“GET HIM THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. IF HE EVER COMES NEAR ME AGAIN WITH THAT SCHLONG I’LL CUT THE BASTARD OFF.“

Joy was unbounded; they needed the restraints for two of the ladies-in-waiting who had become involved in a fistfight over who had the most chic nether-hair-style. (Mohawk v. Chaplin) (Spot of conflict there for the story purists)

After all the brouhaha and embroglio had abated everyone agreed that Queen B was a clever girl who they knew could do it.

King Studly handed round the Cubans (who immediately began plotting his downfall) and a jolly time was about to be had by all, especially the King who was still unsure about the Ladies-in-waiting, when a flash of light, thunderous …erm, thunder and a cloud of smoke had everyone deafened, blinded and coughing so much they missed the entrance of the Witches.



FLASHBACK … The blasted heath, hours previously.

First Witch: “So, our daughter, the Queen, is about to give birth to the ultimate child of our centuries of genetic manipulation. To give us our Supreme Being, our Kwizatz Haderach.”

All: “Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.”

Second Witch: “The hour fast closes we must away to the castle.”

Third Witch: “What about; when shall we three meet again?”

First Witch: “I haven’t adjourned this meeting yet. We’re just changing the venue.”

Third Witch: “Oh. I thought we could only meet on the bloody…”

Second Witch: (interrupting) “Blasted.”

Third Witch: “Blasted, yes. I thought we could only meet on the blasted heath.”

First Witch: “And who told you that? We can meet any where we want. We can meet on the blasted heath, the bloody heath, the chuffing heath or the vast unenclosed wilderness known as Egdon Heath if we want.”

Second Witch: “Wouldn’t we be embrowned moment by moment?”

First Witch: It doesn’t bloody matter. We can meet where we like. Ok?” (She busies herself with PalmPilot)

Second and third Witch: (downcast) “Ok.”

Second Witch: (Whispers to third) “She’s always using THE voice on us.”

Third Witch: “I know. It’s not fair. When I’m Mother Superior you’ll see some changes.

Second Witch: “I know. I’m sick of these black rags as well. And these pointy hats. Why can’t we have Taffeta and crinoline and a tiara?”

First Witch: “Because we’re not bloody fairies, we’re witches.”

Third Witch: “You let Glinda wear what she wants.”

First Witch: “Glinda, as you well know, is a Good Witch (ptui), and she can dress how she pleases because she is not in our coven. RIGHT?”

Second and third Witch: “Ok.”

Second Witch: “Can I have a go on you Palm Pilot?”

First Witch: “No.”

Third Witch: “Where did you get it?”

First Witch: “Benny the filofax got it for me. That guy who works in Planet 9.”

Third Witch: “From outer space?”

First Witch: “Planet not plan. Planet 9. Look, are we going? The hour draws close and all that.”

Second Witch: “Brooms or teleport? Teleport please.”

Third Witch: “Oh I don’t like teleport. It makes me feel all wavy.”

First Witch: “Teleport yes. Gives a better entrance. Ready? (They nod) Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.”

Exeunt in a cloud of smoke.

Enter Glinda the Good Witch (ptui)

Glinda: “Haaahahahaaaaaaaa. Shit. Again.”(Exit)

THE CASTLE… hours later, or the same time as when we left for the flashback.

The assembled: Royals and plebs alike became afeared as they saw who had arrived (without invitation) and all, save the King (because he was Royal) and his sleeping Queen cowered before them.

“My, my,” said the First Witch, “We have been busy haven’t we?” She strolled across to the mewling infant and examining her closely smiled her wicked smile, which dissipated as quickly as it appeared. “We’ve knacked up again girls. It’s ginger.”

The two remaining witches were crestfallen.

“No Kwizatz.”

“Not even a bit of Haderach.”

“Well nevermind,” said the first Witch, “we’re here anyway, let’s enjoy the Hallowe’en party and give the kid its presents. Ooh no witch costumes?”

The throng quailed. (Not a pretty site) at the way the Witch said “presents”. Not being as skilled an actor as she thought she had pronounced it “pre-zents”, like “present arms”. She scowled. “Presents then,” pronouncing properly, “presents, presents, presents. Happy?” The crowd nodded meekly. “You two.” She called over her cohorts, “Give it your gifts.”

The second witch bestowed beautiful good looks on the child, the crowd ‘aawed’; little realising the difficulties the child would face when her beauty made her unable to be taken seriously or that no one would believe she had personality and brains to match. (She would also like football, drinking, motorbikes, engines in general, particle physics and quantum mechanics but her beauty would be her nemesis)

The third witch stepped forward and gave her gift to the babe. In future years the young woman would grow to have a magnificent pair of breasts, and an arse that could kill at 20 paces plus a waist so proportionately narrow only surgery could equal it. The crowd ‘ooohed’, little realising the back ache concomitant with such a fine pair of hooters, the never ending wolf whistles for her rear-view and the bitchy jealousy of her waist, from women of all ages. And the personality and brains to match thing as well.

The first witch, not being quite as subtle as the other two, made this gift:

“You shall rue the day that you have beauty and tits enough for any man with an arse that could stop a bus and a waist that can waste (and the personality and brains thing). A virgin you are and a virgin you will remain until your 18th birthday, (In Litland anyway) whereupon you shall crave your first cock, taste your first todger, knuzzle your first knob and this shall be your undoing. For wait you must for that first orgasm which will have built to such a crescendo after all those years that it’s ecstasy will surely stop your pretty little heart. Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.”

Everyone was vaguely puzzled at this sudden sexual departure from the long established tale and stared quite insolently at the first Witch.

“What? What? What’s the matter?” The other witches called her over and explained about the tradition of story telling. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Said the crone. “Alright, alright. Hmm hm.” She coughed. “On-your-18th-birthday-you-shall-die-by-a-prick. Ok?” The gathering heaved a sigh of relief and contentment.

The first witch stalked away to sulk, followed by her coven, and into the kitchens, where they usually ended up at any party.

As luck, and a following wind, would have it, a crash sounded in the Regal birth chamber, followed by splintered glass flying in all directions and a vision in taffeta and crinoline and a tiara tumbled to the floor.

“Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.” Cried a dishevelled Glinda. “Am I too late again?”

“No no,” cried the King. “You are most welcome and in the very essence of time.” He explained the very recent events and implored the Good Witch (ptui) to right the wrong that had been wrought. Glinda thought about this for a minute or two, leaving those present on tenterhooks for as long as she dared and to gain the most dramatic effect.

“I have it.” She announced. “This is my gift to your child. The pricking and subsequent orgasm shall not have fatal consequences but shall merely send the young woman into a deep and abiding sleep for an hundred years. When she will be awakened by a prick of a different kind.” She smiled beatifically.

“An hundred years?” Wailed the King.

“An hundred years?” Bemoaned the Queen, who had woken at the sound of breaking glass.

“What, in the first place, is the good of sleeping for an hundred years, and in the second place it’s A hundred, not an hundred. Nobody says an hundred, it’s A hundred.”


Fairy Story



Chapter one.

In which Susan meets a centaur and begins her quesT

Susan is a twenty something woman. Up to now, her life has been spent in a learning environment followed by several years of self-abuse. Her qualifications were either too much or too little for serious employment, although, her efforts to establish a career hadn't really been conducted in earnest. The lure of nightclubs, music and drugs had developed a nocturnal aspect to her waking hours. 

Her chosen life style also brought her many affairs, some with disastrous consequences and potentially dangerous situations. After a particularly heavy binge of drink and drugs and falling asleep in a park, Susan found herself waking up in a strange world where everything was almost right, but different all the same. 

Serves her right!

"You cannot say you were not warned." The cat seemed to smile at her as it prowled around her head, coming on silent pads into her eye line, as a ginger and white ball of fur and then, just as noiselessly, passing from view, its presence only noticeable by it's continuous purring. It came into view again and sat with its tail around its front paws regarding her with the same smile. 

"You can't say I didn't warn you and now look at you. All scrunched up like so much discarded paper. Well! Now your here and in big trouble I'd say."

"Nobody asked you." She spat grit and dust out of her mouth. 

"If I had wanted your opinion, I'd have asked for it, but I didn't, so piss off and leave me alone." She rolled over to face away from her tormentor, but only succeeded to roll off of the pallet she had been lying on, to fall bonelessly, on the hard packed dirt floor, driving the air from her lungs. 

"Aw shit!"

"It is my observation that, you ain't really, very much good at this adventuring lark are you?" It wasn't a question so much as an entrée to an argument. Susan could hate the ginger peril without any problems at all. 

"If I'd known the prophecy was meaning some otherworldly fruitcake, I wouldn't have volunteered." The cat sneered, as much as a feline face will allow.

"VOLUNTEERED," She screamed back at the cat, 

"YOU WERE GIVEN NO CHOICE, YOU LITTLE...YOU LITTLE... SCUMBAG!" Invectives failed to really emphasise her frustration at her tormentor who was supposed to be her guide in this.

Since her accidental portal into this realm of fantasy and myth, she had been tormented by the furry little shit. As a guide he sucked, big time. It seemed that most of her tribulations all stemmed from some stupid error on the cat's part. One thing was for sure, if she ever got out of this mess and ever made it back to her own civilised and rational time plane, she would never go tripping on anything stronger than Aspirin and would carry a pathological hatred for all cats, but even more so for ginger ones. 

As it was, she still wasn't entirely certain that this wasn't a bad trip from the concoction of drugs she had swallowed at the nightclub. She had experienced acid trips where rats crawled from the wallpaper and stuff like that, but this fantasy realm was all together, a different bag and one she could well do without.

She grimaced at the various bruises and bumps as she picked herself up and spat out more of the dust. Sunlight steamed through the thin gaps of the bamboo poles that formed her prison. The light seemed to refract and bounce off of everything it touched, giving the hut an ethereal glow about it. Susan could have cared less, but it would have been difficult. Right now, all she wanted was a long soak in a hot tub with loads of bubbles and a glass of something long and cool. She wanted out of the bamboo prison and she wanted home. All of which seemed like a million miles away.

"I was only making an observation, that's all." The cat tried to stop smiling, but the coloured bands on his face made it impossible.

"Why don't you go outside and make some observations out there. See if there is a way out and find some water. Why don't you do something useful for a change instead of making snide remarks?"

The cat winked out, leaving her alone in the tiny room to contemplate her mission. Somehow, and Susan still wasn't sure about this, she had found herself in a, for want of a better description, adult fairy tale. Her only chance of returning to her own time and space was to find and steal the pearl of wisdom. The cat was right though, so far, she had not done very well in the 'adventuring lark'. Her first encounter after being given instructions in the 'Ice Palace' by the Green Queen; had been in the tunnels of Green Mountain. 

A group of really, very seriously smelly Orc's with terminal halitosis had found her wandering around and captured her. They had buggered her and violated her body; inserting fingers into her snatch and making her suck them off. It seemed she was doomed to life among the miscreants until some passing mage heard her cries and banished the little bastards to the four corners of the globe, never to return. Her joy was short lived. The mage, at about three and a half million years old with skin that had more wrinkles than an unmade bed, decided that her liked the look of her and had enslaved the poor girl as a receptacle for his lusty emissions. The cat had saved her, the one useful thing it had done up to now, by fooling the mage into believing that it was a greater wizard and frightening him off. 

Susan had by now, been fucked semi-stupid in all holes and was ready to call it a day. That was only the start of her adventure. It seemed she had been here in this God forsaken shit hole for a couple of months and not the ten hours it really was.

Heavy footfalls sounded just outside the door to her prison. She heard the rattle of the chain and lock that secured the bamboo door. A loud creak of the leather hinges heralded a brilliant burst of sunlight that illuminated the door opening. A silhouetted head poked around the style and a deep basso voice invited her to come out. 

Susan struggled to a sitting position and waited for a moment until her senses stopped reeling. Then she painfully waddled to the door. The sunlight temporarily blinded her as she emerged into the heat of the day. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the onslaught of light, she began to wish they hadn't, an immediate headache started.

Waiting for her outside the bamboo prison, was a blond Adonis. His head and face were framed in locks of curly, golden hair that seemed almost to be bleached by the sun. Broad shoulders that were tanned to a bronze colour supported his beatific face that was also tanned to a deep colour. His massively muscled arms rippled with latent strength and downy blond hair covered his torso down to his belly button. All seemed okay, even quite sexually interesting, until her gaze went past his navel, from belly downwards, he was all horse, complete with four sturdy legs, a beautiful tail that swished at the flies plaguing his rump and a glossy chestnut coat that shone with health and vigour in the sun.

"Oh shit! That's all I need, a fucking Centaur."

His golden locked head, tilted to one side as he regarded her, a quizzical expression showed in his amber eyes and tanned features.

"You talk strangely young one. Yes I am a Centaur, but how you make reference to the physical act of love and defecation in the same sentence is baffling to me. Please explain?"

Susan thought he was trying to make a joke. Her humour had left some time ago, about the same moment her life took on this strange twist.

"Are you trying to be funny?" She crossed her arms in defiance and stood as erectly as her battered frame would allow.

"No, I merely came to relieve you of your enforced imprisonment. I thought you might like some water and exercise. I also wanted to know what you, as a foreigner, were doing wandering around in my domain. However, if you are content to stay in the enclosure provide, I am more than happy to place you back in confinement. You choose." 

He couched a long wooden bow over his shoulder and offered an animal skin with a stopper where the head should have been. Susan didn't want to think of what animal it was, but her thirst compelled her to take the skin and drink the water inside.

"So what are you doing in this land?" His voice softened a little and became even deeper, levelling at a susurration like waves on a shore. It had an oddly calming effect on Susan, who launched into her story, beginning at the beginning and eventually, after having to stop several times to explain what nightclubs and drugs were, she arrived at her current predicament.

."..but I don't even know where to start looking." She concluded.

"So, you are to find and steal the 'Pearl of Wisdom; hmm...no small feat. It will be hard to reach your destination and harder still to steal the pearl." 

It was as if a light went off in his eyes. A blank expression overcame him and Susan thought he had gone to sleep while standing. She drank a little more of the sweet cool water and rubbed a little over her forehead, rearranging and smudging the dirt from being a general sheen of filth to streaks. Wishing for a shower, she coughed loudly to wake him up.

"I might be able to help you there, sort of point you in the right direction." He seemed to galvanise into wakefulness.

"A ride would be really helpful." 

"Well...that would be payment for my services of course."

"Sorry?" And then she caught on. "Oh for pity's sake! Is that all you men think about?"

"It may have escaped your notice, but I am most definitely not a man. I am a Centaur and as such, am the most intelligent of species here in Centauria." His chest puffed out and strained the leather strap holding a quiver of arrows to his back. She couldn't fail to notice.

"Funny, the Orc's had another name for the place entirely, and they also seemed to think that theirs is a superior intellect. Personally, I think the jury is out on that." She had managed to piss him off with that jibe; his eyes clouded with frowning eyebrows and pursed lips.

"I am Che, mightiest, and most deadly of the Centaurs. I lead the herd; I protect the young and do everything else here. This is my kingdom and you, you insignificant wretch, are trespassing." His chest expanded to even greater proportions, Susan thought the leather strap was going to snap. She took stock of her rags, all torn, dusty and dishevelled, but her pride bore her up.

"Not such an insignificant wretch that you suggest we jump in the hay though. Good enough for that aren't I?" 

She puffed out her own chest and felt one of the clasps on her bra give way. She ignored it and continued with her own tirade. 

"Now listen, all I want is to get out of this fucking nightmare. I want to get back home and have a bath and change my clothes. I want to be back in normal civilisation with civilised people, with my hands around the neck of an ice cold Bud. So are you going to help me or are you going to fuck me or what?"

"Both."

"What!!!"

"Both." He repeated.

"What both?" She was getting more than a little annoyed with the verbal chess playing.

"I am going to help you, I will carry you most of the way to the location of the Pearls of Wisdom, but first, I am going to fuck you. No objections are there." It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact and left no room for manoeuvre. 

"So, if you would be so kind as to go back into your small enclosure, we can get the first part of the bargain over with early." He pointed in a manner that brooked no argument, towards the bamboo hut she had recently got out of. 

"Oh! By the way, what is your name? It is a vital point of the tryst and names carry a lot of power in this world."

"Susan." She answered flatly, resigned to getting rogered by the hulking brute, just so she could get along with the quest. She had been fucked for less in the past, so it wasn't really any big deal, although she had concerns about being able to accommodate a horse's cock. Have to play it by ear, or not, she thought to herself. 

He tilted his head again in that quizzical manner of his and asked.

"What does Susan mean?"

"Nothing, it is just a name." She had re-entered the hut now and was removing what clothes she had on.

"Well Che means mighty warrior, leader of the herd and all powerful one." His chest began to swell with pride again, but her next retort completely deflated him.

"For a monosyllabic word, it carries a lot of meanings don't it?" She sniffed derisively and shucked of her clothes into an untidy heap on the packed earth floor.

Her nakedness caused her no embarrassment; she was rather proud of her upturned tits and trimmed curly blond pubes. Che was yet to see the tattoo of Pegasus on her shoulder, but it was one of the last things on her mind. 

"Let's get down to it then, big boy." And then she started to giggle as she wriggled into position under his belly.

"What's so funny?" He bent at the waist and managed to turn at the same time so that his face was only a few inches away from hers. A few inches were about the total length of his cock which was the source of Susan's mirth.

"Oh nothing; just the thought of me sucking a mighty Centaur off; who'd have ever imagined it eh?" She wanted his help; deriding his horsehood wouldn't be a wise move she figured.

Gently, Susan gripped his small penis and guided it to her mouth. The equine smell became pungent and overrode his human counterpart aroma. She began to suck slowly, managing to get the whole of his length into her mouth with room to spare. Privately, she was relieved and gave head like a pro. Her ministration seemed to be doing the trick, pretty shortly, Che's hind legs were stamping rhythmically and his haunches began to buck in powerful thrusts. She could manage all of the four inched, pencil thin cock without any problems at all.

"You had better stop." Che's basso voice warned her. "Anymore of that and it will be all over."

"Aw! It's okay Che," She mumbled around the side of his infantile dick. "Let's do this and see what happens later when you have recovered."

"I really...OH! Fuck, too late." He snorted and thrust his haunches forward in a smooth and long arc. The movement gave Susan a bit of a surprise, but the next instant really screwed her. His erstwhile four inches, suddenly and completely without warning, became a foot long and swelled to a girth that was bigger than her hand could encircle. Trouble was she had him as deep in her mouth as he would go at the time.

The transformation from baby size to fucking huge took less that a blink in time. The sheer force threw her backwards onto her arse as gallons of cum shot all over her face, neck and shoulders, soaking her completely and matting her hair. Susan gagged and tried to spit out the first flood of semen that had crashed into the back of her throat and forced its way into her stomach. She couldn't help herself or breathe until she had regurgitated it all on to the floor and managed to get her jaw back into line.

"Fucking hell!" She managed at last. "That's a fucking lethal weapon you've got there, you could do someone a real damage with that fucking missile.

Che had a beatific smile on his face and his eyes were closed in ecstasy, showing his extra long lashes.

"Oh! That was good. If only our mares would do that for us."

I can see why they don't. Jesssuzz man, you nearly killed me." Her stomach still was trying to convulse.

"I tried to warn you, but it was too late. What were you saying about later?"

"No fucking way man, with a tool like that, you could have knocked the Berlin Wall down all by yourself." Her anachronism was lost on him completely.

When he had settled down, he allowed her to sit on his back with her hands around his waist. Slowly at first, while she got used to balancing on his back, they went around the rest of the village and collected food and water for the trip. Che evinced many admiring stares from other Centaurs as he paraded his charge around. He also got more than one withering look and cold shoulder from the mares, jealousy was rife, but he seemed to be ignorant of the stares as he imperiously did the circuit.

He set off eventually, leaving a silent herd of centaurs looking on.

Susan quickly became accustomed to the sway and movement of him, anticipating the rise of his withers and moving with him in unison. She also quickly discovered that she had left her panties in a heap were she had used them to wipe off some of his come. Her nether mouth soon started to get wet and swollen. Her clit felt like it would explode from the friction caused between their counterpoint movements. 

Oh! Fuck, she thought, I'm going to come all over his back in a minute. No sooner had she thought it, then a violent orgasm ripped through her and a torrent of girl juice slicked the stiff russet coloured hair on his back.

The next two hours were torture for her. Held in a state of high sexual exhilaration, she had orgasmed over and over. Her fluids dripped off his underbelly where his coat could not absorb anymore.

They at last stopped beside a lagoon of crystal clear water at the foot of a cascade. Susan gratefully dismounted and crumpled with nerveless legs all tangled up on the ground.

"I guess you enjoyed that." He remarked dryly as he sniffed at the wetness on his back. "I thought you were going to fall off for a while there, amazing strength in your legs Susan." He stepped into the clear water and began to wash her essences off of him.

Later, after he had shot a rabbit and was cooking it on a spit over a small fire. They talked. She told him all about her life before this little adventure and he told her about his rise to be lead stallion. As they related their stories, a bond of sorts blossomed and they became firm friends. Susan finished the rabbit while Che ate some oatcakes he had brought in a satchel.

Sated, Susan at last lay back and sighed her contentment. A canopy of stars illuminated the night sky. Che lie alongside her and soon fell into a deep sonorous sleep. Not long after, she cuddled up against his back and followed suit. Just as she was drifting off, the ginger cat winked back into view.

"Happy now?" He purred. His smile still pasted on his face.

"Hmm, go away eh?" He winked out again and Susan knew no more until the next morning. Chapter Two

In which Susan continues her quest and meets Cerberus and some goblins.

She woke up and stretched, feeling life and vigour course through her veins. It was already warm and the sky showed clear in an azure blue that darkened at the horizon.

Che was nowhere to be seen, but the ground where he had lain was still warm. She could just faintly smell his equine odour. Susan sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The fall of water terminated in the clear lagoon. Strangely, it caused no ripples or disturbance to the crystal clear water. It did however, remind Susan that she needed to pee and get a wash. Dirt from yesterday was beginning to cake on her face, hands and feet. She was acutely aware of the smell of the woollen shift she had been wearing since this all started. The bra and panties had both stayed at Che's village. The bra she could do without, but a clean pair of knickers would have been nice.

She got up, found a little hollow and relieved her bladder. The smell coming from her groin almost made her wretch. She dived into the lagoon fully clothed and scrubbed herself clean. The water felt warm and soft and so inviting. Susan trod water while she pealed herself out of the woollen shift, which she deftly threw unto a nearby bush to dry, while naked, she swam and gloried in the freedom of movement.

Che re-appeared, coming up from the path they had used the night before. He had been successful in his hunting and soon had a ptarmigan, stuffed with wild mushrooms, wild garlic and thyme cooking over a small fire. He watched her bathe and smiled as he waved and signalled that breakfast was ready.




Fairy Story



The ptarmigan was delicious. From somewhere, he had found some roots and had roasted them in the embers. She finished the resplendent meal with some tiny wild strawberries that oozed juice and took her back to her childhood with the taste.

"I cannot thank you enough." Susan at last broke the shared silence. She glanced at him from under her brows to see what his reaction would be. "I feel so much cleaner now and stuffed to the gills with an excellent meal. Thank you."

He surprised her with a sob. He looked crest fallen and abject misery countenanced his face.

"What on earth is the matter?" She became a little alarmed.

"I have to leave you." He informed her with more sobs. "I can only take you to the edge of my Kingdom, from there you must travel alone and I am afraid I will never see you again." He broke down and cried, huge tears and racking sobs took him over.

Susan reached for him and laid his head on her bare chest. She stroked his mane of hair and cradled him to her bosom while he ran the gamut of his misery. Gradually, his cries subsided, but she continued to hold him, feeling the warmth of his breath as it wafted over her nipple. The familiar itch began in her loins and soon she was fondling him and then kissed him full on the lips. His mouth parted and they explored each other's tongues.

Susan wriggled around and soon had him in her mouth. Che gasped and tried desperately, not to repeat yesterday's debacle. She was prepared this time and knew what to expect. His cock stiffened and sprung to its full glory, but instead of taking him to his climax with her mouth, Susan quickly turned under him and, grasping the shuddering member, guided his mushroomed headed penis into her body. His thrust had her almost losing balance and shifted her across the ground from the force even though she had braced her feet. Then she was lifted bodily as he reared onto his hind legs and impaled her on his throbbing organ until he screamed his climax and fully flooded her from within. Che's arms encircled her and one of his hands found her clit. Gently, he rubbed and tweaked her pleasure nub while rocking her on his still hard cock. Susan could not last and her own shuddering climax smashed through her skull, leaving her bereft of senses.

Their combined juices flowed from her as he carefully returned to all four feet while still cradling her against his belly. Susan collapsed in a sated heap and rested for a few minutes then, crawled back into the water to clean herself off. She spread her legs wide and with one hand, opened her inner lips and caressed her self. The delicious warmth or water cleansed her body as she floated in a dream like state while her nerve ends gradually returned to normal.

There were more tears at their parting. Che had brought her to the foot of a mountain range. Forest had closed in around them, leaving little more than a game trail to follow. At last, they burst into a clearing. Grass covered the small mound that was surrounded by the ancient trees that stood like sentinels in quiet guard. Nothing stirred and the usual susurration of birds and insects had ceased.

"This is as far as I can go Susan. I must leave you here and you must continue through the mountain pass that is just above us." Huge crocodile tears coursed down both cheeks and his sobs shook his muscular shoulders. Had he been any other male, she would have told him to stop being a wimp, but with Che, she could feel and sense the depth of feeling and sympathised with it.

"What is the mountain like?" She wanted him to think about anything else and stop crying.

"It is never the same for any traveller. For some, it is a pleasant hop over the hills and tors, but for others, it is an arduous journey, filled with danger and pitfalls. I hope yours isn't the latter." He was beginning to calm down a little.

"Well, goodbye then. Take care going back and I am sure we will see each other again. Thanks for the lift and everything." She turned to go, trying to make it as easy as possible, but Che threw his arms around her and kept kissing her face and hair. She struggled to free herself, then kissed his cheeks and stepped beyond the boundary of his domain. From Che's point of view, she had just winked out, as if stepping through a curtain into nothingness, but Susan could see through the veil between them. She watched Che, shrug his shoulders and instantly compose him self. It was the ultimate show of 'out of mind'; so much for sincerity.

She turned and faced the seemingly impossible climb and noticed that the woollen shift had now become a cotton shirt with a leather jerkin and woollen breaches. She also had a stout pair of boots on her feet. Susan had given up trying to work out the mysteries of this land some time ago.

A small knife was tucked into a belt that cinched the ensemble together and a machete poked her in the small of her back where it was carried in a sheath slung from a leather thong around her shoulder. The machete soon proved its worth in clearing the dense vegetation from her path. In no time, she had begun the climb and had passed beyond the tree line, climbing over heavy basalt rocks that strew over the lower reaches of the mountain.

Susan climbed in silence. The air grew cooler and more rarefied, but sweat made the new clothes stick to her and the thong chafed her shoulder. She reached a small outcrop with a flat surface and awarded her self a rest period. The sun, although clear and bright, provided just enough warmth to be comfortable. Susan started to doze with her back to the cliff face.

Some loose scree rattled down and landed on the ledge she was resting on. It confirmed her feeling she had been having, that she was being watched. Who ever was keeping tabs on her was now above her. She slowly and with nonchalance, picked up a handful of rocks about hen's egg sized. Seeming not to be doing anything, she weighed them in her hands before launching them high over her head and slightly backwards before ducking under the overhang of the cliff above her. She was rewarded with a curse and an "OW." Then a body fell flat on the ledge at her feet.

He was colourless; in so much as he had no colour other than grey, various shades of it. His face was grey with long pointed ears that had a grey hat pinned under them. His long beard was also grey and was tucked into a grey belt and divided a grey pair of rough trousers from a grey tunic. Altogether, he was about three feet in length and was obviously winded from the fall.

"Oh that's just fucking great; just what I need right now; fucking dopey from the seven dwarves." She poked him with the toe of her boot and immediately wished she hadn't. He grasped her breaches and hauled himself upright in one fluid motion that was too fast to really register. His head came up to her waist and he peered at her from two suspicious looking slitted eyes. These were also grey and darted nervously over her.

Suddenly, he began to wave his arms about and screamed at her in unintelligible words with a high pitched voice, a bit like a tinny whine. The more Susan didn't do anything through her lack of understanding, the more agitated he became. It went on until Susan held up her hands, palm outwards to shut him up, but he must have thought she was going to push him off the ledge, because he cupped his hands and issued a high trilling sound. Nothing happened for a second or two, then, twenty figures, identical to the first, melted out of the rock face and surrounded her. They all carried wicked looking spears with wickedly sharp looking points, all aimed at her midriff.

By gestures with the spears, they indicated that she should turn around. Susan complied and faced the wall. One of them pushed a rock that seemed to be just lying there and a large section of the rock face slid away to reveal a dark passageway beyond it. A jab with a spear in her buttocks got her moving forward. She had to bend at an alarming angle to avoid banging her head. Here we go again, she thought.

After what felt like several hours, but was in fact only a few minutes, they entered a large, torch lit cavern. Hundreds of the little grey men were sitting in tiered benches cut into the rock all facing her as she was pushed onto a low dais at the foot of the amphitheatre.

She stood and looked at them, noticing how they all looked the same, with no identifying marks or variation in their clothing. Idly, she wondered if they were clones or something.

Then, as if given a jolt of electricity, they all rose and as one, started with the unintelligible chattering. Susan guessed that the noises were questions by the cadence of their speech, but could not make out a single word.

"CAT, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Susan screamed at the top of her lungs. Two things happened, both equally startling. Silence, profound and complete hit her like a slap around the face with a wet fish. The last noise, apart from her echoed voice, was the click of hundreds of teeth as mouths snapped shut.

The other thing was the sudden and dramatic appearance of the Cat in purple smoke, right in the middle of them. Ignoring the frantic efforts to get out of the way, the cat nonchalantly sauntered down to the dais that she was still standing on and brushed it's self against her legs.

"Trouble Darling?"

"Well duh." She was not impressed with her guide. "What's with these guys?" Susan resisted the urge to stamp her foot in the classic spoilt princess routine.

"It seems to me we have a bit of a situation here." His calm and condescending tone was really grating her nerves.

"No shit Sherlock...." She would have continued, but a small voice piped up.

"Err...excuse me...erm. We thought you was the mythical snow man and we was trying to trap you so that we could get some water in here... you know, from you melting...silly really...and we didn't know you spoke goblinesque." The diminutive figure trembled at the foot of the dais. He was in standard uniform, grey.

It was obvious to Susan that she was not playing with the brightest bunch of candles in the box here.

I'm Human, got that? Human." Her exasperation threatened to overflow. "How can you think I am the sodding Abominable Snowman? I mean wouldn't he be all white?"

"Dunno." The little grey goblin looked up at her and blinked several times as he shrugged.

"What do you mean you don't know? Haven't you ever seen a human before?"

"Er...no."

"WHAT? WELL DO I look like a fucking snow man?" Susan's anger was simmering nicely and she was starting to get really wound up. It didn't help that the cat had jumped up on the shoulder of the goblin and was watching her with that supercilious grin on its face. 

"To be totally honest with you, we wouldn't know the difference between you and a snowman. We haven't ever seen either, before meeting you that is." He shuffled his feet and studied the ground trying to hide his embarrassment he felt for him self and his brothers. It worked, because Susan's anger dissipated.

"I'm trying to find the pearl of wisdom. A nice centaur brought me so far, but couldn't leave his realm or something and then you fell out of the sky." She neglected to remind him of her stone throwing. "He told me to follow the path over the mountain, but you kind of prevented that by hijacking me, so, are you going to help me out on this stupid quest, or what?

"Let me see." He said, but meant think. He rested his chin in an out sized fist and looked seriously like he was deep in thought. His ruminations were punctuated with little noises like hmm and ahh. This didn't change for several minutes until he, exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders, which looked quite comical because he had no neck to speak of. "Can't really help with that one, sorry." At least he looked it. Then he turned his heels and shouted in the gibberish at the massed throng in the tiered seating. Heads shook and a general hubbub rose from the ranks.

Then, from somewhere near the back of the throng, one of the little grey men stood and grumped and spoke in the gibberish that still made no sense to Susan. Her interpreter told her that the little grey man, who had spoken, knew a way through the mountain that would lead her to a short cut to the cavern of the seat of knowledge. It appeared that that is where the Pearl of Wisdom was situated.

"The way is difficult and has many dangers. There are monsters and demons in the labyrinth of tunnels through the mountain. But you're big, so you can fight 'em off can't you?"

So it was that Susan trekked through the mountain. Using tunnels and paths that led to caverns often illuminated with greenish phosphorous mould that gave off enough luminescence to light the way. Underground lakes shone as smooth as black mirrors while stalactites and stalagmites rose or fell like silent statues guarding who knew what.

It was just as they were leaving just such a cavern, that Susan and her guides encountered Cerberus. His three-headed torso sprung from behind a rock formation and in the blink of an eye, was slavering a few inches from her face. His hot fetid breath from three cavernous mouths, made her want to gag. 

In the same split second, Susan was aware that, apart from the noisome beast in front of her, she was completely alone. As if the rocks had absorbed her guides and companions alike. They had vanished as though never there.

"Fucking typical! You can always trust a man to fuck off just when he is needed." She commented to herself aloud. "I suppose I have to deal with you now do I?"

The three heads of the mythical, but very evident slavering dog, all cocked to one side as if deaf in one ear of each head. The sight struck Susan, as funny and she couldn't stifle a laugh. This evinced a roar from the three throats in harmonious counterpoint, which only served to tickle her even more. Cerberus sat is if poleaxed, his obvious confusion paramount in triplicate and a whine issued in trio.

"You're supposed to quake at my fearsome sight and then quail at the sound of my canine voice. You are supposed to be trembling and pleading for your life and the lives of your friends, who, I might add, have done the Russian answer to war, as in, the offski."

"Oh!" Was all Susan could manage while trying to get her breath back, then, "Sorry?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well why aren't you running screaming? Why are you not defecating in your underwear? Why are you still standing as if you don't have a care in the world?" 

"It's a bit late to shit my pants mate." She informed the confused trio of heads that were still cocked to one side. I lost a pair to a Centaur and the ones I have on now are so thick I probably wouldn't notice the extra packing. Besides, they itch like fuck; I think it's the fur. As for not having a care in the world, you should try wearing these knickers. I can't wait to get them off and you ain't going to eat me are you?"

"Guess not, but I have to look the part. Living with these two bozos is no fun, but I ain't ready to eat people yet. Oi! Who you calling a bozo, bozo? Better not be talking about me you fuck up."

The three heads started arguing, which quickly descended into a scrap, each doing its best to bite the other two. Fairly shortly, all of the necks got tangled into a heaving mess of teeth and spittle. Susan observed the melee and took the opportunity to rest for a while, sitting on a rock. It had to stop though and it was her ice-cold voice that cut through the ruckus like a knife through jelly.

"When you have finished fucking about, can we get on with this? My writer is getting cramp and wants to make a cup of coffee."

The three heads tried to cock to one side, but only succeeded in banging heads together. 

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

When Susan stopped laughing and had helped to untangle their heads, she explained the mission she was on and had got a promise of a guide through the mountains many passages and myriad corridors. "There is one thing though, we, uh....."

The three heads whispered together, just below Susan's hearing range.

"Go on then, you ask her." The left hand head turned to Susan. "Um...we were wondering if.....well...um?"

"You want sex with me right? You want payment for your services and the currency in this screwed up shit for brains world, is Sex yes?"

"Um, well actually, nice as that might be, we could really do with a scratch between the ears, we don't get scratched there and the fleas think its home from home. Sure the little fuckers have built condo's there.

"Ha, Ha! Ignore my presumption. It's just been a wacky weekend already and I was kinda expecting you to demand that I give you oral sex and fuck your brains out. I mean, it's not like I haven't screwed some strange stuff and you would be nothing out of the ordinary in this wonderland of treats. I mean, it's not like I haven't screwed some weird fucker that the writer didn't even see fit to describe too much and then I screwed a Centaur that the writer really got into, think the sicko has a thing about bestiality, which means this tale might go anywhere and you are an animal, right?"

"Alright already! Sheesh! Does she ever shut up?"

"Listen, we are just as much a victim of the foibles of the writer okay. We haven't had any sex for years and years. What's worse is that he has just had the idea of giving us, not only three heads, although that was some other shit for brains guy's idea way back, but he has just decided to give us two cocks. Now if that isn't perverse, I don't know what is.

((Authors note. I lost control of these characters some time back. Anything they say is to be disregarded as spurious nonsense.))

"But since you mention it, sex with you might grease the way, so to speak."

It's a strange thing, but when sex is in the air, all manner of weird things happen; one of those was the sudden re-emergence of the little grey men, voyeurs all; to a man.

"You lot can fuck off for a start! If you think I am getting jiggy in front of you lot, you got another think coming, kapeche?"

Nonplussed, the crowd of little grey men coalesced into a mob and collectively increased the pressure on her to give the performance of a lifetime.

"Ahh, what the hell, lets get it done then and perhaps we can get on with the quest eh?

Susan's clothes hit the floor in an untidy heap around her ankles. Her breasts, free from the confines of the fur lined bra, bounced a little before settling into their customary position, with her nipples pointing slightly upward. Freedom from the furry knickers was something of a relief; her semi-shaved bush hardly hid her mound. Stepping out of the circle of clothing, she approached Cerberus and stroked each neck in turn and scratched behind each set of ears. Her hands caressed and stroked, working their way over shoulders and flanks, kneading and smoothing. Cerberus was like a dog with two tails, except he had three heads and two cocks, but only one tail.

She knelt on the bare rock floor and gently coaxed one and then the other cock from their respective sheaths. She noted that he had two sets of balls and wondered to her self; just how much semen this would produce. Fairly shortly, she had two cocks twitching and dripping precum in her palms. Her ministrations of rubbing the thick bright red cocks was getting results, Cerberus's haunches were beginning to buck and his sides heaved with panted and shortened breathing. Without preamble, she lowered her head and took one of the monster cocks into her mouth; sucking on the throbbing cock while still rubbing the other. Her fist kept knocking against her cheek and the sounds of wetness echoed in her ear.

Cerberus was endowed with two large cocks and both of them were urging towards climax. The one in her mouth was close to spurting its load into her throat and the other was about to spray her face with its creamy emissions. Susan stopped sucking and rubbing and twisted around under his belly, offering her sex to his urgently throbbing dicks.




Fairy Story



Carefully, she reached between her kneeling legs and guided one of his cocks to her already wet and glistening hole and was rewarded as it slipped into her body. It was only as she settled into a comfortable position, that she realised the other cock had entered her anal passage and was slowly, but surely, working its way deeper into her. A feral need was awakened in her; she thrust back onto the cocks and impaled herself. 

In a feat she would never have thought possible, she managed to alternate the thrusts of the cocks by arching her back up and then down. It seemed as if she had two independent centres of sensation clambering for release. As her body became more used to the invasion and her muscles relaxed, more of Cerberus forced its way into her until both knots pushed against her openings. In her desperation to accept his seed, she thrust backwards and was rewarded as his knot entered her cunt, passing her inner lips and finding its way to nestle deep inside her. Then the other knot pushed past her sphincter and rammed into her ass. The pain was almost unbearable until his thrust began to work their magic on her nerve endings. She reached back between her legs and found her clit. She punished it between forefinger and thumb, twisting and pinching until she shuddered in her orgasm. 

Cerberus howled in triplicate and shot two loads of red hot cum into her, flooding both canals in a frenzy of carnal lust and a basic instinctive need to lock and complete the act of procreation. Her stomach swelled with the copious amounts of cum and they locked as if they would never separate again.

The group of little grey men clapped and jigged from foot to foot, their enjoyment of the spectacle evident in their excitement and dancing. Susan only now, became aware of them and the state she must have looked like, but it didn't matter. Her body adjusted and allowed Cerberus to slip out of her canals with a loud plopping and sucking noise. The movement created new waves of pleasure in diminishing crests.

Then it was over. Cerberus had had his fill of her. Susan was fucked beyond her wildest dreams and the little grey men all had their cocks out, wanking like fury. A collective Ahh went up and hundreds of tiny spurts coalesced into the ever-growing puddle of cum collecting in a hollow in the floor.

Later, after they had all rested and eaten food provided from the rucksacks carried by the little rock goblins. They set off through the mountain, in secret passages that would never be seen by human again.

Chapter three follows in which Susan continues her quest and meets more strange and mythical beasts. Oh! By the way, she gets fucked a few times too. What more can a girl want?

Chapter three

Susan continues her Quest and meets a dragon and goes home.

Their trek through the mountain took the best part of the day. Progress might have been quicker, but Cerberus insisted on stopping every so often and lifting a leg against outcrops of rock as if marking the way back with his scent. 

Progress might have also been quicker if they didn't have a lengthy stop to give Susan another good seeing to. Cerberus, still quite satisfied from their previous, was content to lick her pussy until she creamed her self and made a mess of his middle snout. It would have gone on to full sex, but the three heads couldn't decide between them, quite how to do it. Susan thought she might be spared the ignominy of having the two dog dicks empty inside her and was pleased at the reprise. The little grey men had other ideas though. Seeing that her clothing had once again hit the floor, they took the opportunity to have their own way with her.

Susan was spread eagled on her back with her womanly charms open to investigation. Her rapid and disabling orgasm was just beginning to subside when she suddenly felt something invade her sopping wet fuck hole. Surprised and thinking Cerberus had changed his mind; she lifted her head to find one of the little guys with his fist and arm firmly shoved up her twat.

"What the fu..."

Her mouth was clamped shut by a small hand, while other little grey hands grabbed her swinging tits.

" uummph?" She finished.

It was relentless, something like twenty of the little fellas had accompanied Cerberus and her, and all of them were going to take a turn at her. Their little cocks couldn't do much for her, but the fisting did, especially when they started to double team her with one fist in the ass and another in her cunt. Pretty soon, she was rushing towards a violent come and was tipped over the edge when another of the small goblins started to slap her clit with the flat of his grey hand having given up rubbing it. The little smacks devastated her and she was sure that, at least one of the little guys drowned in her juices. She almost drowned in their collective come they insisted should be swallowed. The guys might have been small, but they could come for their world and twenty or so of them made quite an amount of man essence.

When they had all sated them selves in her throat, Susan re-dressed and wordlessly pointed the direction she was going to go in and started to walk. She didn't trust her vocal cords to be able to articulate anything more than a grunt or moan. Her legs weren't in much better shape, quivering as they did from the prolonged high of her last orgasm. Somehow, she managed to make headway.

What seemed like hours past and with each step, Susan's temper bloomed until. After the umpteenth time of Cerberus pissing against the wall, Susan's patience gave out and she rounded on the huge animal.

"Can't you ever stop the fucking pissing every few steps?" She put her fists on her hips in the classic you're in for a fight matey, pose. "We could be miles further on if you didn't keep stopping for a slash all over the place."

"Two things come to mind, actually, three. First, this is my domain and I do as I please."

"Two." The second head took over. "It makes no difference to the journey. Time and space are all relative here."

"And three." The third head chimed in. "Fuck you." 

"And forth, if you weren't such a horny bitch and kept stopping to fuck our brains out, we might have got there last week."

She was sure the three heads were laughing and got really angry, but held it in for the moment.

"You want to learn to count, you stupid fuckwit." She commented. "What do you mean; time and space are all relative? Do you mean that we aren't really moving? Just sort of making the actions?"

"That's about the strength of it. We are moving, but not really moving at all, just the scenery. Still, won't be long now, my nose tells me the end is quite close."

"Thank fuck for that." She shrugged her shoulders angrily and started forward. Only a few minutes later, the quality of light noticeably began to change. Instead of the phosphorous green half-light, shadows started to become more defined and the air seemed cooler.

Then, suddenly, they were on a ledge overlooking a green and verdant valley. Sunlight streamed from the western end from a cloudless sky. Afternoon was clearly well advanced and the coolness of evening caused her to goose pimple.

"Well here you are then." Cerberus stayed in the shadow of the opening as if the light would burn him. The little grey men were almost invisible, shuffling around in the neck of the cave mouth. "This is where we stop and leave you to continue your travels. You will soon come to a path that leads up to the top. Follow it until your guide finds you. Goodbye and um...thanks for the screw, it was nice." He turned to re-enter the cave.

"Nice! Fucking hell, what did you expect? No, don't tell me. Well go on then, fuck off back to your lonely life talking to your self." She also turned to leave and nearly walked straight over the precipice, but managed to stop and tried to make it look as if she had done it purposely, not wanting the animal to see she was utterly devastated by the parting if truth be told.

"I meant it was something special, but no matter. Take care Susan and good luck in your quest." He stepped back and winked out of sight.

"I fucking hate this place." She muttered to herself and then, to add to her general feeling of misery, the cat suddenly appeared at her feet in a small cloud of green smoke. "Nice special effects." She remarked dryly.

"I Thought would cheer you up with some colour after all that grey." He managed to form a scowl, not easy when a smile is painted on your face.

"What did that three headed idiot mean about time and space being relative? Susan felt the need to ask, because if she weren't actually moving, just the scenery, then a quick fast forward would be nice.

The cat's face split into a huge grin as he said.

"You've heard the phrase, two heads are better than one? Yes? Well three heads are one too many and only screw up the stew." His answer couldn't have been more obtuse if he sat and thought about it for a whole week." The cat paused to clean a paw.

"Anyway, as your guide, I suggest you step back from the edge and start walking up that path; Just a suggestion mind." He winked out, leaving Susan alone again.

Utterly forlorn, she looked in the direction indicated by the cat before his disappearing act. To her amazement, a yellow-bricked road led away and upwards until it was obscured by the curve of the mountain.

"Oh this is great!" She said to herself. "And I am supposed to be Dorothy I guess?" The question was rhetorical and directed at the space recently vacated by the cat.

"If the cap fits, you won't need a condom and pessories." It was just as well the cat had winked out, because she would have kicked him to death after that comment.

Susan stepped onto the ochre coloured roadway and noticed that she now had red sparkling shoes on her feet and a gingham dress. All that was missing was the tin man, Cowardly lion, Toto and the scarecrow. She shrugged again, something that was becoming habitual, and started to walk.

Idly, she wondered what would happen if she actually stopped walking, would the scenery still move. Or, would the cat wink into view again to hurry her along. She stopped and a split second later, the scenery stopped as well.

The cat's voice cut into her thoughts, sounding like it was on her shoulder.

"You're getting too good at this, best play along though, because the power that is, will get the needle and you just might be stuck for good and all."

"Last thing I need is to be stuck with you, you little prick." Susan spat the last words out as if they dripped in venom. "As a matter of fact, you have been stuck with me. Who do you think Cerberus was really? I mean, Cerberus and centaurs are mythological, as in not real" He let the moment sink in, and then continued. "I ain't just a cat you know, in fact, I can be anyone or anything I choose, like say, centaur maybe or an Orc; neat eh?"

"You dirty little fucker. So you have been screwing with me all this time?" Susan's incredulity rose by several notches.

"Can you blame me? You are a very sexy woman and getting jiggy with you is the most natural thing in this whole realm. Anyway, you still have a quest to finish and I guess; one or two more tight situations before you get out of here."

"What? Like you want to screw me in other guises before I eventually get free of this nightmare? You perverted little fucker, I ought to cut your balls off and feed them down your throat."

The cat stayed out of vision while he laughed.

"Oh! Fuck you." Susan's patience ran out and she stomped off up the path.

Pretty soon, her stomping brought her to another cave mouth. An evil smell was emanating from the dark depths and a second faint smell, like bitumen was carried on the foetid breeze coming from inside. Susan felt rather than heard; a deep resonant rumble that came from no human throat. She steeled herself and stepped into the gloom.

A wall of heat hit her, almost knocking the breath from her lungs. Somehow, she managed to place one foot in front of the other and advance down a sloping tunnel towards the source of the heat and stench.

The sight, when she eventually arrived at a huge subterranean amphitheatre, was overwhelming. The horseshoe shaped cavern, had a high domed ceiling that had to be all of thirty feet high. In the centre of the arena was a huge pile of jewels surrounded by brilliantly glowing braziers of dark metal. She could see rubies, emeralds, diamonds and gold glinting all over the pile. Sat on top of it was a giant green dragon, complete with the scales and barbels under its jaw, just like the Chinese mythical Wyrme.

Glittering composite eyes regarded Susan with no apparent interest. Small curlicues of grey smoke wisped from enormous nostrils that topped a wickedly curled mouth full of teeth that resembled scimitars and looked just as sharp and dangerous. 

Susan was unsure what to do. She had a feeling that if she made any sudden movement, she might end up as a light snack or fried fricassee. She froze to the spot and hoped that the dragon would ignore her. She was unlucky.

"AT LAST! YOU HAVE ARRIVED; I WAS GIVING UP ON YOU."

The monster hadn't spoken, it words appeared in Susan's minds eye like front-page headlines.

"I was um... unavoidably delayed." Susan answered lamely and felt very small in doing it.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TO DO?"

"Um...I think so. 

"HOW DO YOU INTEND TO STEAL THE PEARL?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead. Besides, I don't know where it is yet. I guessed I would make something up when I found it."

"IT'S RIGHT THERE." The dragon pointed with its smoking snout towards a pedestal on the opposite side of the cavern to Susan.

"I guess you won't just let me take it will you?" Susan knew the answer before she asked the question, but decided it was worth a shot.

"NO, I WILL NOT GIVE IT TO YOU. YOU MUST STEAL IT."

"How the hell am I supposed to steal something, when you know that I am here and my intentions before I start?"

"YOU COULD TRY COERCION OR USE SOME SUBTLE ART. YOU MIGHT TRY TRICKERY OR A CLEVER PLAN TO GET ME TO LEAVE MY NEST, OR YOU COULD TRY AND DISTRACT ME."

"Would sex work?"

"NO."

"Would any of those suggestions of your's work?"

"NO."

"Fat lot of good that advice was then; hang on. Are you really the cat? Because if you are, I am getting tired of this game now and really would like to go home."

"She isn't me." The cat winked into existence on a ledge, just out of her reach.

"HELLO FELINUS."

"Hi Draco, how's it going?"

"OKAY I GUESS. THE LITTLE ONES SHOULD BE HATCHING IN A FEW DECADES NOW, SO THAT WILL BE NICE. MAKE A CHANGE TO HAVE SOME COMPANY HERE."

"How long has it been, hundred and fifty years?"

"SOMETHING LIKE THAT."

"Sorry to bust up the reunion, but I want to go home and could use a suggestion or something here." Susan raised her voice to overcome the echoed reverberations of the dragon's voice.

"I SEE YOU ARE STILL MESSING AROUND WITH ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES. WHAT IS IT ABOUT THIS PEARL THAT ATTRACTS YOU SO MUCH?"

"Hello. Is anyone listening to me?" Susan's voice went up an octave.

"SHUT UP!"

"Shut up!" 

The stereophonic order hit her like a hammer and knocked her onto her arse. The gingham dress flew up over her head, revealing that she had no underwear on. She unravelled herself and smoothed the voluminous fabric down. Stunned, Susan sat there and listened, as the two re-acquainted them selves like long lost friends. The conversation went on and on, it occurred to Susan that she had been forgotten. Slowly, so she didn't remind them of her presence, Susan got up and sidled around the pile of jewels and gold. After several minutes, she reached the pedestal and in a moment of pure genius, replaced the pearl with a white stone.

She edged her way back to the entrance and was about to start back up the sloping tunnel, when she was pole axed.

"OH! THAT WAS SLICK; NOW STAY QUITE STILL."

Susan was compelled to stop. Her senses reeled from the mental onslaught.

"WELL, YOU MANAGED TO STEAL THE PEARL, BUT DO YOU REALLY KNOW WHY YOU HAVE? HAS IT BEEN EXPLAINED TO YOU WHAT THE PEARL MEANS? YOU MAY ANSWER."

"N..no, it hasn't, just that it is my release from this world." Susan's mind tried to shrink and hide somewhere near her feet.

"IS THAT WHAT THE LITTLE TWAT TOLD YOU? DIDN'T YOU KNOW, ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS SAY HOME THREE TIMES AND YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN TRANSPORTED STRAIGHT BACK TO WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM?"

"Obviously not." Susan's sarcasm was returning. "Do you honestly think I would have stayed one second more than I had to if I had known?" She was livid and began looking for the cat; she had a few choice words for the tricky feline.

"So what is this pearl then?" She felt she should find out what she had been dragged into.

"WELL, IF FELINUS MANAGES TO EVER GET IT OUT OF HERE, HE WILL RULE THE WORLD. ALL WORLDS, IT IS THE PEARL OF ULTIMATE WISDOM. WITH IT, HE WILL KNOW EVERYTHING, PAST PRESENT AND FUTURE; CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THE LITTLE FUCKER WOULD DO ARMED WITH THAT KIND OF KNOWLEDGE?"

"Where is he? I want a word with him." Susan's voice took on a dangerous quietitude. Anyone who knew her would stay right out of her way.

"Right behind you ducks, and you had better hand over the pearl."

Susan spun on her heel and was amazed to see her old Math Tutor standing nonchalantly just a few feet away.

"Hand it over." The figure was right, but the voice was definitely wrong. "It comes from your memories Honey. You're like an open book; always seeking love and recognition; never quite cutting it. By the way, you're a passable screw and suck very well. Did you learn that in college too?" The Cheshire style grin spread across his face, mimicking the cat for a second.

"So, you used me to get this eh?" She proffered the pearl, cupped in her palms. "All so you could be the lord of all? Well catch!" She hefted the precious jewel into the air and waited for it to reach the top of its parabolic flight before stepping forward and planting a full-bloodied kick to his nuts.

Her foot met with satisfying resistance and she almost laughed at the comic way his eyes crossed, just before he grasped his balls and sunk to the floor, groaning.

"If you had bothered to read further into my memory, you would have found that I owed him that and, for all the fucking around, have this too." She swung her foot again and connected with his jaw. The lights went out in his eyes and he slumped bonelessly in a heap.

The pearl reached the end of its parabolic flight stone floor and shattered into dust, which surprised Susan a little.

"IT WAS A FALSE PEARL. THE REAL ONE IS UNDER MY EGGS. I COULDN'T RUN THE RISK OF HIM MANAGING TO GET IT. IS HE ALRIGHT BY THE WAY?"

"Who cares?" Susan didn't look at her tormentor again, instead she approached the huge dragon and prepared to say goodbye.

"TAKE THIS BY WAY OF THANKS. GOODBYE SUSAN AND BE HAPPY."

Susan took what was offered without looking at it and bade the dragon goodbye. It was the only creature that hadn't wanted to screw her. "Home. Home. Home." She yelled at the top of her voice. All went very black.

She didn't awake so much as just become conscious of a crowd of people surrounding her. The park bench had cut lines into her back where she had lain on it and her head was throbbing.

The crowd, seeing she was alive and stirring, gave out a collective sigh, whether in disappointment that she was alive, or because she was alive, Susan didn't know.

"What?" She yelled as loudly as her head would allow. "Fuck off you lot, go on, fuck off." She groaned from the effort of raising and yelling.

The crowd, seeing that the spectacle was over, did as she advised and dissipated in different directions, leaving one guy by himself who helped her up and enquired after her welfare. She ended up marrying him; seeing an iridescent green glint in his eye reminded her of something that she couldn't quite remember.




Fairy Story



She also found in her palm, an emerald the size of a hen's egg, so that was alright then.



Fairy Story



“Well I’m sorry but it’s the best I can do at short notice.” Glinda said, and stalked off in a huff (actually it was a minute and huff, I always remember a face, but in your case I’ll make an exception, ‘ats a my brodder, he dem or a duff) to find the other witches in the kitchen where she would arrive 35 seconds too late.

Anyway. King S. and Queen B. made immediate proclamation, without really thinking it through, that any kind of sex involving pricks, in the Kingdom was henceforth banned, abolished and verboten. No flashing, no drawing, no descriptive writing, no videos, no dvds and definitely no websites, ever again.

“But can’t we just have the ban when the princess gets old enough to understand?” asked the people.

“No.” Said the King. “Children learn things more quickly than you’d think possible, according to modern educationalists and we cannot take the chance that the Royal heir should die before accession. For who can say if we should bear more fruit. And thinking about it now, we won’t be able to because of the proclamation. But, what’s proclaimed is proclaimed and that’s it. ”

The Princess’s school years were an occasion for mass thanksgiving as the King (not so much the Queen, as she was bi- and getting plenty of girl on girl action) in a rare fit of acquiescence (due in large part to the various rallies and protests the like of which had not been seen since the miner’s strike) allowed an annual three-weekly, veritable orgy of penile sex when the Princess went to Royal Camp.

The Princess enjoyed many, many celebrations of her birthday, which conveniently fell on Hallowe'en every year and so was treated to Masked Balls of gigantic proportions due to the two-fold nature of the festivities. And in all her almost 18 years never once had occasion to even have sight of a male member.

ROYAL CAMP.

Every year, for three weeks in the month of August, Hermione (late of the palace kitchens) ran a summer camp for Princesses of the local Realms. This being a land far, far away and in a time long forgotten there were a great many local Realms in quite a small geographical area and so Hermione had quite a comfortable living. She ran three ‘camps’. One was for Princesses, one for Princes and The Other One.

The camps were segregated in this way for two reasons. 1) We’re talking about school age royalty here and school age means no opportunity, let alone desire, for any members of the opposite sex to become more than handshakingly acquainted. 2) The fees could be made proportionately more extortionate due to the kinder being both Royal and segregated. 

The Other One, was a year round camp specifically concerned with certain ‘practices’ between consenting adults. Clean linen every morning, three hot meals, several ‘chambers’ below ground and definitely NO animal antics of any kind. At all. Not even in the stables provided. Or the kennels.

HALLOWE’EN AND THE 18TH.

Studly and his Queen B. paced the rooms of the palace, fear and apprehension gnawing at their vitals. “Get those dogs out of here,” Cried the Queen, “I can’t stand their constant slobbering.”

The King anxious to calm his wife called to the dogs. “Come on Fear, here Apprehension. Good dogs.” And led them to the door.

“Oh Studly my King. What are we to do? Our one and only issue will today, this very Hallowe’en be taken by a prick to sleep for an hundred years.”

In agitation the King wailed “Do you think I do not know? Have I not gone without for this past decade and 3 fifths?” (For Studly had followed his own proclamation to the letter.) “But she will be safe. She has no knowledge of the male appendage. She can have no carnal inclinations for any man. The only thing we have to do from now ‘til midnight is keep her locked in her room and then, come the witching hour, she will be free of the curse. And it’s A hundred, not an.”

The day passed slowly, even though the Castle was a-bustle with preparations for the Grandest Hallowe’en Ball of this or any other century, the hours dragged by. The Regal bats were brought from their lofty belfry and given a coat of fresh luminous varnish that they might gleam in the candle-strewn halls on their midnight release. The skeletons of many previous kings and/or their queens/consorts were white washed to be hung in merry poses throughout. Even the witches had been sent invitations to attend, after what happened last time.

Eventually, came 11.30. Every preparation was prepared. Every ghost had been awakened. Every hall had been decked with orange and black and every single Prince, Queen, Princess and King of all the local realms were in attendance bar one.

THE BLASTED HEATH.

First Witch: When shall we three meet again?

Second Witch: When e’er the moon is full, and nigh the witching hour. Haaahahahaaaaaaaa

Third Witch: Well you’re lucky I made it to this one. I didn’t know it was on ‘til you phoned me this afternoon. It’s a good job my mobile was on.

First Witch: Well don’t look at me. I sent all the invitations. PM’d everybody. Which reminds me,” (to second witch) “Your PM box is full. Again.”

Third Witch: “That’s because she uses a picture of Glinda for her AV. All the randy wizards on the site sends her mucky spells.”

First Witch: “Warlocks”

Third Witch: “No, it’s true.”

First Witch hits third with broom and knocks her pointy hat to the ground.

First Witch: “I’ve warned you about that before. Anyway,” (to third) “you can talk, you’re email keeps getting bounced. Have you changed your addy?”

Third Witch: “Yes. Didn’t I say? I kept getting spam. ‘Do you want a wartier nose?’, ‘Is your chin pointy enough?’ that sort of thing. I’m now Hazel @ Daemon dot net.”

First Witch: “Right. So, when shall we three meet again?

Second Witch: (consulting almanac ) Erm… Full moon: 8th of next month.”

Third Witch: “That’s a Saturday. A Saturday in November.”

First Witch: “What time at?”

Second Witch: “Can we make it earlier? I’ve got 3 curses to lay Saturday night.”

Third Witch: “Ok. How about: 5 O’clock. Approaching the time of twilight?”

First Witch: “Venue?”

All: (with glee) “Egdon Heath. Haaahahahaaaaaaaa.

First Witch: I shall now ask our secretary to read the minutes of the last meeting. Or shall we take them as read? Yes? Good. Nem con. Matters arising?

Second Witch: Did you price up a new cauldron?

First Witch: “Yes. And they’re ridiculous. I doubt if we’ve got enough funds to buy a one-gallon cauldron, let alone replace this one. I think we should stick with this. All in favour? Good. Agenda items. Oops. Sorry, Correspondence.”

Second Witch: “Well, apart from the V.A.T man, who wants to know if we want a maintenance contract for this cauldron, there is an invitation to an 18th birthday slash Hallowe’en ball.

First Witch: “Ah. The Beautiful Princess. Soon to be Dead Beautiful.”

Third Witch: (wincing) “Erm… Soon to be Sleeping Beauty I’m afraid.”

First Witch: “SLEEPING?”

Second Witch: “Well…Yeah. Sleeping. Glinda. An hundred years.”

First Witch: “SLEEPING? GLINDA? AN HUNDRED YEARS? Who says An hundred? Nobody says An hundred. It’s got a consonant. It’s A hundred. Stupid cow. Come on.”

Exeunt on brooms

Enter Glinda the Good Witch. (Ptui)

Glinda: “Haaahaha—Oh fuck it.”

THE HIGHEST TOWER IN THE CASTLE. (Readers intimidated by poorly written scenes of sexual depravity may wish to skip this next)

The clock ticked. 11.45

The princess sat at the bedroom table combing her exquisitely coifed hair in the mirror, admiring her great beauty in the reflection thereof. In just a few minutes she would dress herself in the finest Elizabethan brocade with attendant ruffs and frills as befit her status to enjoy this Hallowe’en night and her Birthday Bash in one. Wondering idly, what the ‘special present’, her father the king had promised her, was she stood and moved towards the full-length mirror, little knowing that he sat in the next room watching through the two way glass.

“Oh my, how she has grown.” Thought Studly “My beautiful Princess, my beautiful, pristine, virginal Princess. Nice tits as well.”

11.55

The Princess, turning this way, and that, gazed, enraptured of her own lissom, lithe, languid body. Those full, only very slightly drooping breasts, crowned with puffy areolae and the darkest, hardest, most succulent nubs, standing regally proud a good half inch. Her eyes drew downwards to the trimmest waist imaginable, eat though she did, whatever she craved, Bigmacs, Indians, Kentucky, anything, her middle remained gloriously thin. Still turning as she may, the Princess caught sight of her very own full, rounded and immensely squeezeable derriere, accompanied as ever, by thighs, knees and calves of exquisite proportion.

Right Regal, feminine fingers soon found their way to that virginal, wispy haired haven. Pressing through those downy lips, a single finger, to the first knuckle. A nipple pulled taught with delicious pain/pleasure and released, so that hand could cup the breast and bring that same puffy zone to royal lips and tongue. Perfect, white teeth pinched and nibbled, sending waves of delight through breast and belly to zing through loins to whet appetites and wet lips.

11.59

Behind the mirror sat Studly, bereft of clothing and Royal staff in hand, he watched his own daughter quickly and efficiently bring herself to the edge of delirium, with well practised fingers dancing across her engorged clit and a single digit penetrating her sex, stabbing shallowly but steadily as her climax drew close.

“Wanking, “ mused the King “can’t be as good as proper fucking or she would be sleeping for a thousand years by now.” Then he saw, with great joy, the bedside radio/alarm said:

12.00.

Now for her Daddy’s present.

He kiked down the dor and camed in her fase. And she liked it. She liked it off her lips and where her tongue could reach she liked it off her tits. Immediately she was his cum-slut. “Oh Daddy,” exclaimed the Princess “I’ve waited so long. Fuck my cunt. Now fuck my ass. Fuck my mouth. Fuck me in every hole.”

And so he did. And when she was ready to cum she cried “Cum with me Daddy, I want to feel your incestuous seed fill my belly. Oh yes. Hhnnn. Ooohhh. Fuck me. I’m cuuuuummmmiiiinnnnggg” Then as his daughter’s orgasm exploded within her, sending shivers down her spine, the King, her father, cummed too, Spurting thick ropes of man-juice into her virgin hole with such ferocity that the Princess was slammed into the bed-head and knocked unconscious.

A blaze of light, a crash of thunder and billowing smoke suddenly filled the room.”Oh this is nice.” Said the First Witch. “Very nice. Shagging your own daughter. Very Kingly.”

“Fuck off.” Said Studly. “18 years you made me wait for this. 18 fucking years. Queen B. didn’t go short did she? No. She’s bi. She was fucking the Ladies-in-waiting.” The Witches snickered knowingly. “But I haven’t even had one off the wrist in all that time. And now I’ve been rewarded, I’ve fucked the most beautiful woman in the world ever. And I fucked her first. And she liked it. And your spells are shite.”

“Are they indeed?” Enquired the first Witch. “Let me see… first: “You shall rue the day that you have beauty and tits enough for any man with an arse that could stop a bus and a waist that can waste (and the personality and brains thing).” Yes, well I think we can take that as a given. Agreed? Right. Two: A virgin you are and a virgin you will remain until your 18th birthday, (In Litland anyway) “ Ok. You and Lauren did that bit yourselves. Now, three: “whereupon you shall crave your first cock, taste your first todger, blah blah blah, and this shall be your undoing.” Now that’s down to you again I think Kingy. You showed her, her first cock and it was yours. Ok then. Four: “For wait you must for that first orgasm which will have built to such a crescendo after all those years that it’s ecstasy will surely stop your pretty little heart.” Alright I admit the heart thing didn’t work thanks to Glinda, but think about it. I said your first orgasm. I didn’t actually say whose. As it happens I meant yours. Your first orgasm in 18 years. Yes I know, technically your second but your first inside someone else. So that’s down to you again. So really it was just self-fulfilling. You won’t be able to wake her you know. Not for A hundred years. So we come to part five: “Haaahahahaaaaaaaa. Thank fuck for cut-and-paste”

King Studly was distraught. Sobbing and crying real tears he cradled his beautiful naked daughter in his arms, giving him a boner in the process.

“But it’s turned midnight.” Wailed Studly. “It’s Saturday now. It’s not the 31st. Look.” He pointed to the radio alarm on the bedside table, which read 12.15.

“You’d think so wouldn’t you?” Laughed the First Witch. “Except that you forgot one thing.”

The king stared at the Witch; the other two Witches stared at the king’s noble sceptre. 

“You forgot that this clock is an alarm clock. It is set to bedroom time. A quarter of an hour earlier than all the other clocks. Only now is it midnight. And you have doomed your own daughter to a hundred years of sleep. Haaahahahaaaaaaa.”

King Studly rose, with his naked daughter in his arms and his full on stonker pointing the way, and carried her to the Royal Bedchamber.

“Well, that’s us then.” Said the First Witch. “Anybody seen Glinda? She’s usually here by now.” 

“No. That IS unusual, even for her.” Said the Second Witch. They stood undecided, waiting for the arrival of their late colleague. 

Not late as in dead. Just late. Be a bit pointless waiting for someone who’s dead wouldn’t it? Be a bit like waiting for Godot. Although, you realise, it’s the waiting that counts, not who or what they’re waiting for. Or for whom they wait.

A crash of glass and confused mayhem descended on the group, as Glinda made her late entrance. “Haaahahahaaaaaaaa”

The Witches regained their feet, gingerly picking slivers of glass from their pointy hats and black robes. “Am I too late?” Enquired Glinda.

“Not really.” Said the Second Witch. “We were just waiting for you before we set off.”

Glinda was puzzled. “Set off? Set off where?” She demanded, all the while trying to disentangle taffeta from crinoline and bits of broomstick from her tiara. The three Witches, somewhat sheepishly, explained that they'd got a gig at The Old Vic for the coming season and were involved in The Scottish Play, which really required only three crones. “That’s Ok.” Said Glinda. “I’ll be far too busy moving house for the next few weeks anyway.” She sniffed.

“Moving? Where?”

“Oz.”

“Australia?”

”No Oz. The land of Oz. There’s an opening for a Good Witch and I’ve been offered it. 35K, insurance, a house (gingerbread but that’s Ok) and the usual: 5 weeks annual leave, bank holidays, car allowance, the lot.”

“Well that’s just fine. Fine and dandy. You go. We’ll manage. GOODBYE” The three Witches flew off into the night cackling.

Glinda, with a righteous, haughty gait went to seek out the King and his daughter. After several wrong turnings and one or two wrong doors, disclosing many and varied sexual acts being as how it was, technically, the day after Hallowe’en and everyone was taking full carnal advantage of the fact, she came at last to the Royal Bedchamber, wherein the Princess lay, comatose to last for an hundred years.

Finding her comfortable and shockingly naked, making Glinda rather wet between her legs, the Good Witch (after a quick feel) sought out the Royal party.

In the Grand Hall amidst Hallowe’en trappings the guests were, to a man (and woman) engaging in somewhat desultory sex, in celebration of the end of the ‘No Nobs’ proclamation as it had come to be known. But the fate of the Princess had thrown a shadow over what was to be an otherwise thoroughly enjoyable night. Upon this sight Glinda became dismayed, not over the sex, she didn’t get to see that much sex being a story book witch. Now if she could join a Modern Coven. They had sex all the time. Dancing naked in the woods. Making love philtres. Shag, shag, shag, shag, shag. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Turning her gaze once more to the assembled throng Glinda couldn’t help but feel sad for all these hapless nymphos and satyrs. So she cast another spell. That all in this castle should sleep for an hundred years, to waken only when the Princess was woken by a different kind of prick as per her previous spell. Before she took her leave, she decided to take full and unfettered advantage of all the hard ons that she could espy, along with some nice wet minges to taste. After three weeks she left for Oz.

The Castle, with its slumbering incumbents fell into Disrepair: Property developers. (House clearances sought.) After many more years when the housing market fell through and All and Sundry (Debt collecting agency) ensured everyone was in a negative equity situation, the castle naturally went to Rack and Ruin: Slumlords to the shiftless, homeless and topless. Est.837.

HERMIONE

Through her own skill and artistry, along with her business sense and eye for the market, Hermione (late of the Palace kitchens), had built not only a grand reputation and comfortable livelihood but had also managed to persuade the surrounding Realms, with her charm, willing lips and interesting assortment of instruments of pleasure, to have her small parcel of land declared an independent country. As sole owner Hermione became Queen.

Even though wholly les. Hermione none-the-less managed to bear a girl child to whom her country would eventually come to pass. Hermione Junior (Princess Hermione) also bore a child of female birth. Princess Hermione III. This charming and challenging child held a deep secret, known only to a chosen few. To all outward appearances Hermione III grew to be a beautiful, capable woman who, following the time honoured tradition of the Royal Hermiones, was Lesbian in taste.

Feeling greatly bored and somewhat stifled in her Regal role as second in line, Hermione III decided it would take forever before her grandmother died, leaving the country to her mother who would then take another forever before finally passing on the Crown.

And so it came to pass that the rather minuscule subplot found its way to the main story bringing Hermione III to the sleeping castle.

After many days and nights of travel and some wonderfully uplifting and hedonistic adventures, too complex and long to relate in a fairy tale, Hermione III came to the village outside the sleeping castle. Here she discovered the tale of The Sleeping Beauty, who could only be woken after an hundred years with a different kind of prick. “Ah ha.” Thought Hermione and was more than ready to reveal her deep held secret to the reading public.

After much preparation and reparation to the Innkeeper and various outfitters Hermione began her quest in Earnest, which was the name of the village outside the sleeping castle. With courage and great fortitude Hermione made good her entrance to the sleeping castle. Finding its inhabitants still slumbering and even after an hundred years still stiff of prick and wet of twat she spent the first 3 weeks in the great hall before going on to search for the Princess.

The Royal Bedchamber readily gave up its secret and Hermione there discovered the most Beautiful Sleeping female of all. Sleeping Beauty. Try as she might, Hermione could not awaken the Princess. Though she tried needles, pins, pointy daggers and sharpened sticks to give the slumber filled creature a different kind of prick, still she dozed on.

In sheer frustration Hermione began to try arousing the Princess with kisses and protestations of love, declaring her heart and soul be forfeit to her majestic beauty if only she would awaken. Hermione soon realised that she had indeed fallen in love. Whereon she threw herself on top of her erstwhile bedmate and smothered her face with kisses. She ran her tongue down the length of her body, from chin to pubis. She kneaded her perfect breasts; she slavered over her trim waist, sucked on those remarkable nipples and lovingly fingered her fringed minge.




Fairy Story



Naturally, Hermione’s attempts to rouse her Princess began to arouse Hermione herself and lust began to have its effect. Her nipples hardened to bullets, her body was lathered with sweat, her aching cunt was awash with juices and her cock stiffened to strain her codpiece. Yes. Hermione’s deep held secret was that she wore a codpiece years after they had become unfashionable. And she was hermaphrodite too. 

Though she had the frail body of a woman (with a very nice pair of gazongas) she had the cock of a man. Being truly hermaphrodite she had a cunt as well and enjoyed fucking as much as she enjoyed being fucked. In fact her favourite thing was that if the occasional suitor begged for bum love she insisted that he take her cock up his arse first. She had surprisingly few refusals. But that’s a whole other story.

A triumphant thought surged through Hermione’s mind. “A different cock! I have a different cock.” And with that she fell to, and gave her future wife a right royal seeing-to. This being the Princess’s second only actual fucking it was almost impossible for her to sleep through it. Her eyelids fluttered, her hips began undulating to the copulating rhythm and soon she was cumming with abandon. “Yeeeeeeeeessssss.” Cried the Princess. “Fuck meeeeeeeee. I’m cuuuuuummmmiiiiinnnnng”. And so she did.

“I’m cumming too.” Ground out Hermione “I’m fucking your cunt, bitch. You dirty bitch whore. Fuck. Yeeeeeeeessss, I’m cuuuuummmiiinnng tooooooo.” And so she did. Then fell asleep almost immediately, to be woken half an hour later by being both sucked off and fingered by the Princess.

And they all lived happily ever after. The End