Table of Contents
Title Page
Foreword
Introduction
THE OBEDIENT WIFE
HOW THE LITTLE MERMAID GOT HER TAIL BACK
DUCKING
THREE TIMES
ELLIE AND THE SHOEMAKER
THE PUB OWNER’S DAUGHTER
SLEEP TIGHT
HER HAIR IS A NET, WOVEN
MIND YOUR PEAS AND Qs
IN THE DARK WOODS
GILDI AND THE UNWIELDY, INEFFECTUAL COMMITTEE OF BEARS
FROSTED GLASS
GINGERBREAD MAN
ALL IN A DAY’S WORK
BIG BAD WOLF (AN EXCERPT)
THE KISS
THE RETURN
THE STONE ROOM
I
II
III
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ABOUT THE EDITOR
Copyright Page
FOREWORD
Angela Knight
When I was a child, I loved fairy tales. Evil witches, beautiful princesses, handsome princes—those tales of magic and romance captured my innocent imagination. As an adult, I learned that there was a distinctly dark edge to the original fairy tales that had been carefully sanitized out of the versions I’d read. For example, did you know that Sleeping Beauty in the original version woke up pregnant? Apparently her handsome prince did rather more than kiss her.
As for “Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Cross-Dressing Wolf”—well, the kink factor in that one is obvious.
Fairy Tale Lust: Erotic Fantasies for Women explores the sensual potential in the stories we all heard as children, giving them the kinky edge I always suspected lurked under the surface. You’ll find beauties, beasts, mermaids and handsome heroes aplenty here, along with enough deliciously sexy action to make your heart beat faster.
But what is it about fairy tales that makes us want to give them a sensual twist? Maybe it’s because when you go back and read them with adult eyes, the sexuality is already there. I wrote my own kinky version of the “Beauty and the Beast” story years ago, because I was so fascinated by the idea of falling in love with a beast.
Now, I loved the Disney version of that story—but am I the only one who wondered if Belle felt cheated when her raging Alpha Beast became a handsome Beta male?
Personally, I liked him better with fur, claws and a bad attitude.
Which brings up an interesting point. We know that as strong, intelligent, independent women, we’re not supposed to want to be rescued by the handsome prince. We’re not supposed to want the Beast.
Yet down deep in our secret hearts, some of us yearn for heroes with an edge—fangs and claws, whips and chains. Trouble is, we know we’re not supposed to want those dark and dominant men. After all, we’re equal to men now in all the ways that count. And that’s just the way we want it.
Well, most of the time, anyway.
There’s something seductive about the idea of making love to a man who may force us to explore our deepest, darkest impulses.
Now, the pitfalls of that need are obvious. How do we know that the handsome dom we pick up in a bar isn’t a serial killer? How do we know that once he’s got us tied up, he won’t do something awful? Enacting those kinky fantasies is not easy to do in real life.
It’s not even easy in fiction. I personally would be reluctant to write a heroine who deliberately sets about picking up a dominant in a bar, because doing so would make her Too Stupid to Live, for the same reason it would be a stupid thing for me to do in real life.
But we don’t expect realism and logic from a fairy tale. In a fairy tale, you can believe in magic. You can even believe a woman might decide to stay with the Beast of her dreams or that a man might hack his way through a forest of thorns to find the beautiful woman of his fantasies. We don’t worry about the logic of the character’s actions, because fairy tales don’t have to be logical.
And that makes these stories safe. The reader can relax and go along for the ride, enjoying the hot, luscious pleasure of the fantasy without worrying about the politics of a yen for submission or the intelligence of a heroine who would voluntarily stay with a Beast. After all, any story that begins with “Once Upon a Time” is not something to take seriously.
Then there are those six wonderful words: “And they lived happily ever after.” You don’t have to worry whether the heroine will be safe with her dominant prince, despite his taste for whips and chains. He will never hurt her—in a way she doesn’t like, anyway. She’s got her Happily Ever After. The story says so right there at the end.
So go pour yourself a glass of wine, light a few candles and settle down to enjoy. You may rest assured I will.
INTRODUCTION:
ONCE UPON A TIME…
When I first put out a submissions call for erotic fairy tales, I did so with some apprehension. Ask anyone to name his or her favorite fairy tale and the answer is swift and decisive—these are the stories that stay with us our entire lives. So, I was nervous about what the response would be when I asked authors to take those beloved stories and spin them into erotic tales. I had fears that I would be answered only by the endless echo of my own voice in an abyss.
I needn’t have worried.
The response to Fairy Tale Lust was overwhelming. Submissions started pouring in almost immediately, often accompanied by notes from the authors giving me background on their stories and reminiscing about their favorite traditional fairy tales. The submissions themselves were impressive in their variety. The reinterpreted versions of the classic fables had been lovingly crafted to remain true to the originals while giving them a new (and often kinky) twist. The tales that were new creations were written in voices that rang with an authenticity in the spirit of the classics. I was delighted with the stories that floated into my mailbox each week! And yet…a new apprehension grew in me. I felt like the princess presented with too many handsome beaus: how would I ever choose which ones to take? Would that every princess might suffer as I did!
The appeal of fairy tales is much like the appeal of erotica: both tap into our own deep desires and allow us to explore the boundaries of the taboo. When we are children, the whole world is foreign and new, and fairy tales give us a way to safely explore that world through imagination. As adults, often more jaded and cynical than we’d like to be, erotica lets us explore and redefine our ideas about sex and sexuality. We are given permission to want, to need and to try new things through the stories we read. Our imaginations are sparked by stories that surprise us with their ability to arouse. So many of those classic fairy tales are already layered with a subtext of sensuality. Beautiful women imprisoned; handsome men tortured; heroes and heroines undergoing tests of strength and will, seeking out the forbidden and exotic. It seems a marriage of lusty convenience to pair fairy tales and erotica. At last, those dusty old tales can come out of the closet and share their secrets!
The end result of my quest for erotic fairy tales is the book you hold in your hands. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the wonderful Brenda Knight at Cleis Press for the many brain-storming phone calls and emails that led to the creation of this collection. Likewise, I cannot gush enough over the fabulous authors who took chances and pushed boundaries to write these one-of-a-kind stories. My only regret is that I couldn’t have included more of the uniquely erotic tales I received.
From Delilah Devlin’s traditional yet naughty “The Obedient Wife” to A. D. R. Forte’s tale of a man discovering the depth of his submissive nature in “The Stone Room,” and every story in between, Fairy Tale Lust has been compiled with the utmost love for the two genres it combines. The eroticism that was only hinted at in the original fairy tales is now laid out in naked splendor for your perverse pleasure.
Take a walk in these dark woods and you’re likely to come across all sorts of naughty mischief lurking in the gray shadows. Don’t be afraid; the only pursuit here is one for your pleasure. Which story will be your favorite? Which one will speak to your darkest desire?
I invite you to turn the page and find out…
Kristina Wright The dark woods of Virginia
THE OBEDIENT WIFE
Delilah Devlin
Once there was a miller who had no sons to work his mill or assure him comfort in his old age. His wife had died long ago giving him only a puny baby girl, whose worth didn’t become apparent until she blossomed into a woman.
For then, her beauty stole the sunshine from the sky to sparkle in her fair hair. The birds grew mute when her lovely voice trilled. No truer blue or rosy hue could match the color of her eyes or soft, round cheeks.
To keep safe his only treasure, the miller locked her away inside their cottage while he considered how best to reap the rewards of his good fortune.
When it was time for her to wed, he sent a message to the village offering his precious daughter up for enough gold to see to his comforts for the rest of his life.
His announcement met with loud guffaws from the townspeople, for how could a scrawny, ugly man such as himself sire a creature worth the gold he demanded?
When no one offered him his fortune, the miller let one townsman inside his home to peer upon his bonny daughter. The man eyed her face, touched her soft golden hair, but he declared that her body must be misshapen and demanded to see more before he contemplated offering her bride price.
Now, the daughter was no fool. She knew her father meant to sell her to the highest bidder, but she’d spent her entire life inside her tiny house and longed to see more of the world beyond the confines of their small village.
So while she was willing to remove her gown and allow the townsman to look upon her naked flesh, she lashed out with a viperous tongue, letting him know she’d make the man who married her a miserable cuckold.
And yet more men came, offering her father gold, fine linens and furnishings to ogle her—enough gold to see to the peasant’s comfort throughout his old age.
The daughter played upon her father’s avarice, asking him why he should lower his sights to the townspeople when lords in neighboring demesnes would be willing to offer so much more.
The father set out to spread the word about his beauteous daughter, careful to avoid the subject of her temperament. While he was gone, the daughter continued to allow the men to visit, offering more to the married men among them than just the sight of her soft curves, for she knew the married men would keep their silence.
As she sank her mouth down the long slippery shaft of the barkeep, she counted in her head the coin she’d made, secure in the belief that only a few more days of service would provide her enough to buy her way to a port where she could sail to the edge of the world if she wanted.
“Aye, you’ve a talented mouth,” the swineherd murmured, catching her hair at the back of her neck and forcing her to take him deeper in her mouth. “I’d pay more for the use of yer hot quim, girl.”
She bit down, unmindful of his howls, and came off his long shaft. “Should that fool of a father of mine find me a rich husband, I will need to be a virgin.”
The smithy, whose fat cock she stroked with her fist, patted her bottom. “There are other places a man can stick that a husband will never discover.” He named a price that made her eyes light up with greed and she turned her bottom toward him, happily gobbling at the pig herder’s cock while the smithy pushed his into her arse.
The moist sounds their bodies made and their agonized groans as they found their pleasure excited the girl, for the longer she withheld their pleasure, the more they were willing to pay for the release she offered. And though her jaws constantly ached, her hands felt as rheumy as an old woman’s, and her ass was too sore for her to sit, she took her own pleasure in the tinkling of the gold that spilled into her secret stash.
While the daughter plotted her escape, her father traveled far and wide, seeking a suitor with deep pockets. When he approached a particularly wealthy village, he asked for the name of the richest among them. He was led to a castle deep in the wood, situated atop a small hill. The grounds were immaculate but deserted. He pounded on the door of the keep and trembled when it creaked open and a creature not quite a man nor all beast opened the door.
“Sir,” the miller said timidly, “I seek the wealthy man who owns this keep.”
“What business have you with him?”
“I’ve a treasure to offer him.”
The beast stroked his hairy jaw. “What is the nature of this treasure?”
“The fairest woman in this land. A girl so beauteous even the roses bow to her when she passes.”
“Is the girl obedient?”
The father cleared his throat. “She is as fair as the sun and moon.”
“Does she obey?”
“She sings sweeter than a sparrow.”
“Will she accept a husband’s command?”
The father fought the quaver in his voice and said, “I have been told she is perfect in every way.”
The creature eyed him and then smiled, revealing enormous teeth that made the old man’s knees weaken.
“Bring her to me. If she is everything you promise, you will have your price.”
The old man returned to his village, riding his old horse triumphantly through the streets.
“Miller, did you find a husband for that girl?” the smithy’s wife shouted out.
“A finer man cannot be found.”
The swineherd’s wife passed him, giving him a narrow-eyed glare. “Will that girl of yers be leaving soon, old man?”
“She will, and she shall live like a princess in a castle.”
“More fool’s the lord who takes her,” the woman muttered under her breath.
The miller paid the woman no mind, convinced she spoke from jealousy because of the perfection that was his daughter. When he returned home, he slammed open the door and called to his daughter.
A loud crash sounded inside the cottage, and she arrived at the door looking disheveled, her lips reddened and her skirts askew.
“Did I wake you, sweetling?” her father asked.
She glanced over her shoulder, then offered him a hesitant smile. “So, you’re back. Did you find success in your journey?”
Her father grabbed her hands and nearly jumped, so great was his joy. “I’ve secured a fortune for you, girl.”
She rolled her eyes and ushered him out of the house. “We must head to town to buy new gowns. How can I greet my husband in these rags?” She waved her hand behind her, confusing the old man.
“Is there a fly bothering you?”
She smiled and widened her eyes and waved her hand behind her again. A sound like a wild boar crashing through the brush behind the cottage drew his attention from her strange behavior.
“We needn’t bother with shopping. Your husband will take you as you are. I’ve arranged a wagon, and this day we will begin our journey back.”
And so it was that the miller’s daughter traveled to the faraway village. The miller warned her as they approached the great keep’s door. “Keep your words to yourself until he has paid.”
The daughter smiled, nodding her assent, but she prepared a speech sure to wilt the lord’s enthusiasm for this bargain. She had enough gold in her secret stash to see her way to the coast.
The door swung open and every word she’d rehearsed flew from her mind, because a great hairy beast dressed in trousers and boots and nothing more filled up the door. “This be the girl?” the beast rumbled.
The daughter shivered at the deep, warm sound, unsure whether it was pleasure or fear and also unsure which excited her more.
The miller smiled, pride lifting his chest. “This is the treasure I offer you.”
“Come in. I would see whether the rest of her is as lovely as her f
ace.”
The daughter stepped quickly up the steps and began to draw her shift over her head. Standing naked beneath the creature’s dark glare, for the first time in her life she felt a curling heat settle in her belly and moisture slide down her thighs.
The beast sniffed the air around her, trailed a claw along her shoulder. While he stood behind her, she could have sworn he licked her neck, and she trembled with the need for release from the sudden tightness of her quim.
The beast snorted and strode toward a chest from which he hefted a large bag of gold. He handed it to her father and ushered him to the door.
“B-but I would stay for the wedding!” her father stammered.
“Do you want the gold?” the beast asked, his voice deepening in warning.
Her father gulped and clutched the bag to his chest and left.
The beast turned slowly, stepping onto her shift, his long talons tearing at the fabric. “Is the air warm enough for you, my dear?”
Although she shivered, she nodded her head.
“Then you will have no need for this.”
He walked away toward a long, stone staircase, and she scrambled after him, unwilling to be left in the drafty shadows below.
He paid her no heed as she wheezed, following him up and up to a tower room. Once inside, he set a large timber against the latch then turned to stare at her. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Should I be?” she asked, wondering if it was a trick question.
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