by Spellbound- An Anthology of Erotically Retold Fairy Tales [Ravenous] (epub)
Jason’s eyes narrowed as he thought about it. He must have decided her suggestion was acceptable: He abruptly beamed a radiant, dazzling smile of joy.
Cassandra sucked in her breath. I must be lightheaded from the wine, she thought. She could have sworn she saw Jason morph into the most handsome man she had ever seen. Noni used to tell her that the good in people shined through. Cassandra shut off the lights so they could see the television more clearly. As they traded comments on the show they watched, she forgot about his looks and was lulled by the beautiful sound of his voice. It caressed her more lovingly then some men’s hands. She moved closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder as she drifted to sleep. She felt comfortable and happy with him.
From nowhere, a cloying sweet perfume enveloped her. Cassandra coughed violently. Opening her eyes, she stared a greenish, lumpy reptilian. What the…?
A swirling vortex of wind plumed straight up inside her living room. Stunned, Cassandra sat up and watched the whirling configuration. A screech of outrage shot out from the funnel and Alfia’s face wavered inside it. Her green eyes spit sparks of fury as she saw them together, and then blackened to orbs of obsidian. She let out a bark of laughter, “You pathetic little toad. That won’t work.”
“I love her, Flea,” Jason said tightly. Cassandra gasped beside him.
Alfia looked startled, then slowly turned her glittering hate on Cassandra. Protectively, Jason shielded her with his body. “I’ll leave and never see her again if you don’t hurt her.”
That’s when it all fell into place for Cassandra. She couldn’t believe how blind she had been. Perhaps it was her old fear of getting hurt that prevented her from noticing what was truly in front of her the whole time. Now she could see clearly.
The wind whipped around her as she grabbed for him. The fearful face of Alfia looked from Jason to her. “No!”
Cassandra dove into Jason’s arms and raised her face to his. “Kiss me! Kiss me now!”
He pulled her to his chest, encircling her with arms no longer short and misshapen, but muscled and strong. He kissed her. Cassandra felt all the pent-up passion he had been hiding. Jason’s lips hungrily found hers. She shivered with arousal and kissed him back.
Her eyes opened and watched as the visage of frog was yanked with tremendous force into the vortex. Alfia shrieked as the two images circled, picked up speed, then tore through the window, splintering glass and wood. A scream of violent rage howled outside the building. Moaning and squeals of pain filled the room, then faded to a final croak of despair as it dragged itself away.
Jason kissed Cassandra tenderly, then more urgently, demanding her willing response. His grey eyes bore into hers. As she took a deep breath, she noticed Jason’s hair and skin smelled deliciously like clean linen, fresh air and sunshine. She stroked his chin, raspy with stubble. He is magnificent, she thought. And he loves me. She was overwhelmed with emotion.
He picked her up, walked to her bedroom door, and kicked it open. Their hungry mouths kissed deep with longing and Cassandra felt her body flush with desire. Jason drew back, his grey eyes darkly hooded with yearning, and put her down. She felt his hardness pressing against her. “Tell me what you want,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t—”
Cassandra led Jason to her bed, stripping off clothes as she went. “I dreamed about us once,” she admitted. “I’d like to be awake this time.” She smiled and helped rip off his clothes.
* * * *
Jason wanted to be inside her, to feel and watch her explode with passion. He stroked her neck and breasts, and watched Cassandra’s eyes squeeze to tiny slits of pleasure. Her nipples stood up and his hands slid down, finding her slick with longing. She put her hands out and grasped Jason’s shaft. He groaned. One hand stayed on her pussy, manipulating her clit, and his other pulled her to him. His warm, wet mouth closed down on a rigid nipple. Cassandra groaned, grinding her hips into his hand. Her own hands were busy as she cradled his sac and slowly massaged his balls.
Jason’s arousal was feral and demanding, but he wanted to taste her first. He thrust Cassandra down on the bed and fell on her like a starving man. She squirmed with desire, digging her fingers into his dark blonde hair. Jason’s hot breath blew against her stomach and she shivered as his tongue tasted her skin. He worked his way down to the silky V below, and licked the swollen crease. Cassandra’s hips rocked with frustration as Jason separated her labia and teased her hardened clit, sending electric sparks through her body.
Her body screamed with hunger, forcing her up and surprising Jason by pushing him back. Cassandra grasped his cock as he fell against the pillows and she mounted him, rubbing the tip of his hardened rod with her juice. Jason groaned and shuddered. He watched as she teased him, then eased his shaft deep into her hot canal. He let out a yell of pleasure and pulled her to him. He twisted Cassandra around so he was once again on top and thrust himself to the hilt, watching her cry out.
Jason reached down with one hand and, with every plunge of his hardened cock, rubbed her clit faster and faster. She whimpered for release, and knew he felt her body arch and stiffen as he reached his own violent climax. They shuddered together. Cassandra sensed his heart pounding in time with hers through sweat-drenched skin.
As they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason still warm and inside her, Cassandra marveled at the change in his looks. But it was his eyes shining with unconditional love that was more beautiful than any feature she had ever seen. No more unrequited love for me, she smiled.
Jason’s affluent family welcomed Cassandra with opened arms. The couple toured Europe on their extended honeymoon, and Cassandra was able to study art to her heart’s content. Jason left his maintenance job and started working for an animal-rights group.
And they lived happily ever after.
Free Falling
By Victoria Lake
Peter took a deep breath and stared out into the space before him, focused and alert. Leaping off the small platform, the sensation of free fall was short lived. He was caught by the safety net, and thrown 10 feet back up. Peter tucked into a somersault and landed feet-first on the net. He bounced a few times and smiled, his piercing brown eyes capturing everything under the giant tent. The platform loomed 50 feet above the ground and 40 above the net.
Applause echoed through the cavernous space. Peter fell back, letting the net capture his fall. Springy steps jostled the net and someone flopped down next to him.
“Hello, Wendy.”
“Hey, Peter.”
“To what do I owe this visit?”
“Just seeing what you do in your off time. I thought you’d be practicing or off in a bar someplace causing mayhem with some adoring female fans.”
Wendy was the only female Peter adored, but he wasn’t in a position to tell her. Peter rolled over to his belly and cradled his head on crossed arms. “Just had an urge to jump off the platform. Can’t explain it.”
“Sometimes I think we can fly when we’re up there,” Wendy said. “Nothing between us but air. Nothing to save us but each other and a lot of trust. Hoping that a pair of strong hands will rescue us from falling.”
“No one falls,” Peter reminded her “not anymore.” Wendy pushed her curly blonde hair from her eyes and tucked the stray strands behind her ears. Peter watched as she ran her eyes over his toned body. He let her hand hover inches from his thighs. “We should get ready, Wendy. Hooke hates it when we’re here, and he’s not involved.”
“Bastard is probably in his trailer dreaming of ways to take advantage of more people.”
Peter said nothing, although a hundred comments ran through his head. It was hard watching Hooke have the run of the Second Star Circus. Unfortunately, until he could prove otherwise, Peter had to continue to play the part of the simple employee.
He rolled over and met Wendy’s eyes. Brown stared into green. He looked at her full lips and stroked her cheek before kicking up into a standing position and offering her his hand
. Wendy took it and allowed Peter to pull her up. She went to the edge of the net and flipped over. Peter followed, watching the effortless grace of his shadow as his feet hit the ground.
“See you in a few hours?” he asked. Wendy nodded and watched him walk off, out of the flap in the canvas.
“Nice tent,” she whispered. He stopped in the sunlight, smiled, shook his head and walked away.
* * * *
Peter locked his ankles and leaned back on the bar. The chilled metal dug into the back of his knees as he swung. He clapped his hands together. Talcum from his heavily taped appendages fell to the floor like pixie dust. Stern concentration crossed his face, brown eyes focused straight ahead to the other platform. Michael and John, Wendy’s brothers, held the trapeze while she prepared herself. He nodded, and she jumped.
The creak of her taped hands was heard through the tent as she swung into the air. Peter watched Wendy’s legs pump to gain height and momentum. Their eyes locked and he smiled. Their swings became timed, caught in a pattern known only to high flyers. Wendy nodded, her eyes filled with strength and trust. Then she let go. She tumbled through the air in a triple somersault. The crowd stopped breathing as they watched the stunt, frozen in time.
Peter’s strong arms caught her as applause and cheers roared through the circus. Wendy looked up at him, relieved, and mouthed the words: Thank you. He smiled at her. On the next swing, her hand slipped. A gasp exploded from 50 feet below. Peter tightened his grip. She had slipped less than inch, but the fear of falling was always there—with or without the net. Peter swung her up hard and she landed on the platform, caught by his sister Belle. Wendy looked back to see Peter pull himself up into a sitting position on the trapeze.
Peter extended his arms and slipped off, landed on his legs, bounced up, and stood bowing to the crowd’s applause. The brothers John and Michael were next, doing their own stunts to get to the ground. Belle slid down a rope. Peter stared at Wendy’s body as she leapt into the air, caught in the spotlights: the firm calves, curve of her hips, and the fullness of her breasts. She tucked into a ball before plummeting to the net and bouncing.
* * * *
Wendy reached for the handle of the trailer. The air was stale and reeked of sweat and old cigarettes.
“One minute there, Missy. I don’t think our business is finished yet.”
“Any business we had was over years ago, Hooke.”
Hooke stood from his chair and pressed out a cigarette into an overflowing bowl. Tendrils of greasy black hair spilled over his shoulders as he stepped toward Wendy. The trailer had been an apartment, and was now converted to the circus’ business office. Wendy knew an old cot was behind the curtain at the very back of the trailer. Hooke was here every moment he wasn’t in the big top. The desk, once a magnificent antique, was cluttered with stacks of paperwork and scarred with cigarette burns. It had been Peter’s father’s.
“You like your job here? You like flying through the air and seeing all the hot men in their tights, hearing the applause night after night?”
“For a reminder, I’m related to two of those men. You’re disgusting. How many times are we doing this, Hooke?”
“As many times as it takes for it to sink in. You are only here because of me. Never forget it. I can snap my fingers and have a whole new flock of high flyers in a week. Then you and your two brothers are out of work again.”
Wendy’s fingers tightened on the door handle. She turned slowly.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, knowing the answer. Hooke stepped closer and loomed over her. His fetid breath cascaded over Wendy’s neck. He advanced again and slid his long fingers over her shoulders. She gasped from revulsion and fear.
“You know what I want, Wendy. What I’ve always wanted. I will never be satiated.” He leaned in close to her ear, his moustache prickling her lobe. “Meet me by the bear cage in four hours. After the show, don’t shower. Make sure you’re still sweaty.” Wendy shivered and bolted out the trailer door.
She paced in her dressing room. The sound of her slippers scuffed across the floor. It was a communal dressing room for the women, laden with costumes and makeup stations with lighted mirrors. Wendy wiped the make-up off her face and tightened the tie on her robe. She was still in her costume, flesh-colored tights under a bright blue tunic, and not much else under that. Despite the chill night air seeping in, she was sweating.
“You can do this,” she whispered at her reflection. “One last time until the contracts are renewed.” She dabbed at the dampness forming in her eyes and sighed. The thought of Hooke on top of her and, worse, inside her, filled Wendy with such revulsion she retched into the trashcan. Gagging at the taste, she rinsed her mouth with a glass of water and wandered outside.
Later, Wendy walked out from behind the empty bear trailer used for parades. It normally housed Kaos, their trained black bear, upwards of 20 years old and twice as crotchety. The cage door was lowered and rested on the ground. A large blanket was spread out inside across the floor. Wendy shivered with the thought of the lumps under the blanket and hoped they were hay.
“I love a prompt woman.” Hooke stepped around the corner, riding crop in one hand, megaphone in the other. His elbow-length leather gloves were still on from the show. He stepped into the cage and lay down on the blanket, then tapped it next to him. She inched forward.
“Don’t make me do this.”
“One last bang for the show? It’s almost contract renewal time,” he reminded her needlessly. Wendy stepped forward. “Getting closer, prolonging the agony, I like it.”
“You’re such a bastard.”
“And if you don’t get in here, you’re going to be unemployed,” he hissed. He checked his watch, the face an alligator with moving arms.
“What’s the matter, Hooke? Got a hot date?” Wendy jumped at Peter’s voice. Hooke bolted up on the cage, banging his head on the roof. “I thought I had seen all the slimiest things, until now.”
“Mind your own damn business, Pan.” Spittle flew from the edge of Hooke’s mouth and caught on his moustache.
“I’m making this my business,” Peter replied. Hooke slinked out of the cage. They watched the glint of metal coming from a hip sheath with a large dagger in it. Hooke reached for the jeweled handle. His fingers tickled the hilt before he skulked off into the shadows.
“Contract time is coming,” he yelled over his shoulder. “I won’t forget.”
“I could have handled it.” Wendy tightened her robe, obviously flustered and embarrassed.
“You shouldn’t have had to. Hooke is a dirt bag.”
“I owe him.”
“No Wendy, you only think you do.” Peter grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She ached for so much more, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him. Not here. Not now.
“Please, Peter, this is something I have to deal with.”
“You know where I am if you need me.”
Wendy stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and walked off.
* * * *
Michael and John held the trapeze while Wendy prepared for flight. She grabbed on with one hand, holding the other high above her head. Across the big top, Peter was already in motion, hanging upside down by the knees, waiting for his special arrival. Wendy grabbed hold of the bar with both hands and jumped off the platform.
She kicked her legs up high while the spotlight tracked her movements. Peter kept his eyes fixed on her speed and positioning, never letting his mind wander. Their eyes met. When Peter swung back he Hooke skulking in the shadows.
Another pass, a glint of reflected metal where it shouldn’t be. Lying on the floor beneath the safety net was Hooke’s dagger. Peter looked hurriedly around and saw the lines to the safety net, one partially hacked at. When he stared back again, he saw Hooke looking frantically for something at his hip and bolting off. Wendy swung out again higher this time, her hands and wrists getting tired from the exertion. Her grip slipped coming back toward the platform. Mich
ael and John got ready to catch her.
She swung out again. This time Peter was ready, but before he could signal her not to release, she tucked her legs up to her chin and began her revolutions. Peter was not in position and knew it. The lights followed Wendy and then captured the concern on Peter’s face as he fought to swing out to catch her. She came out of the roll with her arms extended. Peter was almost there. She started to fall. Peter knew the net was compromised and slid down to his ankles, catching his feet between the bar and cable.
He caught Wendy by one wrist and swung back toward his own platform. She was too low to make it safely, and there was no knowing if the net would hold or not. The crowd gasped when Michael leapt to catch his sister’s trapeze. He dropped down to swing by his knees, extending his arms.
Get ready, he mouthed. Wendy nodded. Peter swung her backward and high. Michael caught her easily and swung her up onto the platform. Held in place by John, she looked out to the center ring where the unplanned show was going on. Peter reached out and kicked off the bar. He felt Michael’s hand and grabbed on. Two strong swings and Peter was on the platform next to Wendy. They hugged tightly and Peter could feel the sobs coming from her. John started down the pole slowly to make room for Michael to land safely.
Michael touched down on the platform, with Wendy and Peter grabbing at his wrists for support. Wendy hugged her brother and while the three descended the pole, a pack of clowns came out with trained dogs to take the attention away from the aerial acrobats.
“That was too close,” Peter said, holding her to him. “And it’s not going to happen again.”
* * * *
