“Cursed by you?”
“No, by a powerful and malign wizard of my acquaintance. In his youth, your King did me a great wrong. I have plotted my vengeance ever since…and now it is complete.”
“What did he do?”
“He stole my sweetheart from me.”
“Ah. He does have that reputation.”
“Rightly so. When his daughter was born, I sent the vine as an anonymous gift. He planted it, little knowing that it was cursed to imprison the child as soon as she reached the age of one and twenty.”
“Marriageable age?”
“Indeed.”
“But the Princess has not wronged you. She is innocent in all of this.”
Villiers shrugged. “Collateral damage.”
Selina narrowed her eyes. “So how will you free her?”
The visitor chuckled dryly. “The vine will release the Princess and die once she has…come. Three times.”
“Come?” Selina shook her head. “Come where? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand what it means to come? I’d love to show you,” leered Villiers.
“Oh! I see!” Selina’s hands flew to her cheeks, which were stained scarlet. “I understand! Goodness!”
Villiers held out a hand. “And now I must invite you to… come with me.” He guffawed at his own dirty joke.
“Just one more brandy—to keep our blood on fire,” suggested Selina, hopping behind the bar and pouring a double measure, into which she tipped a few drops of a sleeping draught she kept there for emergency use. It came in very handy when the tavern was packed with rival Dragon Racing teams—one dose and the warring factions fell into peaceful slumber.
Once Villiers lay snoring, cheek flattened to the trestle table, Selina lit a lamp and hastened out into the night.
Up the winding cobbles she toiled, toward the castle that perched at their summit, looming over the town like a magnificent bird of prey.
Her friend Elrond was on guard tonight, as she had hoped, and she flitted up behind him, pinching his bottom so that he jumped and nearly dropped his halberd.
“Who goes there?” he yelped, but Selina’s giggles gave him his answer; in a trice he had spun around and caught her about the waist, drawing her against his armored chest. “Somebody wants a spanking,” he growled.
“Mmm,” she agreed in a low purr. “If you keep your gloves on.”
“I’m off duty at six,” he told her. “I’m not having you in the sentry box again—if we’d been caught, I’d be in the dungeons now.”
“Spoilsport,” Selina pouted. “It was exciting, though, wasn’t it?”
He smiled and kissed her in reply. “So,” he said, drawing back with a final nip to her lips. “What are you up to?”
“Must I be up to something?”
“Knowing you, yes. Why are you here?”
“Elrond, I can’t stop thinking about the Princess, all tethered and tied by those creepy vines. I long to see her.”
“It’s quite a sight.”
“Have you seen…under her clothes?”
“No. Only the King and Queen are permitted.”
“Wouldn’t you like to see? I’ve heard tell that the vines enter her body, through her sex. It must be quite an…arresting picture.”
“We’ll get arrested, you mean, if we’re caught looking.”
“Elrond, it’s very late. Everybody is asleep. Who can catch us looking? That’s your job.”
“Selina…”
“The idea of seeing her, tied and penetrated by that plant, is unbearably arousing to me, Elrond. Please, just let me see. Please.”
Elrond had been tempted many times when patrolling that area of the garden, but so far, fear had kept him from succumbing. However, the thought of Selina growing wet and wanton at the sight of the Princess’s beautiful bound body proved too much for him.
“Well…all right. But we mustn’t stay for long. A quick peek and then we come straight back. And I’ll have to spend the rest of this sentry duty with an almighty erection, I suppose.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You certainly will,” he said grimly, taking his bunch of keys and unlocking the castle gates.
Once inside, Selina set off at a barefoot run through the castle grounds while Elrond, having to be stealthy in his clinking armor, struggled to keep pace with her.
By the time she had reached the arbor where Princess Ellora languished in her tentacular prison, Elrond was far, far behind. From the arch that led into the garden, Selina could see the silver shimmer of the vine’s bark, calling her toward it. She gasped as, step by step, the Princess’s plight was revealed in full and frightening clarity.
Now that she was close to the captive girl, she began to doubt Villiers’s tale—how could somebody so seemingly unconscious be brought to the sweetness of climax?
Nonetheless, she was resolute, and her step did not falter until she was close enough to smell the faint perfume of the Princess’s skin, mingled with the sharp vegetable tang of the vine. Selina’s instincts told her that she should not touch the treacherous bonds but limit her contact to the human flesh on display. She drew aside the flimsy garments and dropped to her knees, inspecting the tangle of plant and pleasure spot, assessing how best to go about her unusual task.
Although the root passed through Ellora’s lower lips, it had wound itself around her clitoris so that the shiny pink button stood out proudly. The silvery skein was easy to avoid. Selina put out a hand, slowly, almost afraid that the vine would rear up and lash her away, but it did not. Instead, her forefinger touched the Princess’s clit, jiggling it a little to ascertain how tender it was. It felt a little dry to the touch, but once Selina had stroked it for a minute or so, it grew slick and easier to manipulate. Selina fell into a diligent rubbing motion, sometimes stroking with finger and thumb, sometimes pressing her palm against the tiny morsel, watching it grow and swell beneath her touch. For all the obvious evidence of arousal, the Princess’s body remained impassive, held tight by its silver-green chains, but Selina noticed that, as the clitoris fattened, the vines began to swell inside her sex, and then to begin a gentle thrusting.
The first coming was sudden and over almost before it began; the smallest swivel of her hips led to a parting of her lips and a brief burst of exhalation. But the vines slackened noticeably, and Selina gasped, astonished at the power she had over this poor creature.
Concerned that she might chafe the sensitive bud if she worked it too hard, she decided to use her tongue for the next stage. She had never tasted a clitoris before, but this one was warm and sweet and luscious, certainly a lovely introduction to the art of cunnilingus. She licked and lapped, spurred on by the infinitesimal movements of the Princess’s awakening body. The vine that penetrated Ellora was beginning to spear her in earnest now, in and out, harder and faster beneath Selina’s lowered face. Lucky Princess, thought the tavern girl for a forgetful moment, getting licked and fucked at the same time. There was luxury indeed. The clit was big now, pulsing in Selina’s mouth, slippery with juices. There was another precipitous loosening of the vines and a pair of legs thrashed about Selina’s ears, accompanied by a very audible moan: the second coming.
Selina almost fell over into the swaying vines when rough hands grabbed her from behind, lifted her skirt and yanked down her knickers.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, sweetheart, but it’s making my blood burn,” growled her assailant.
“Elrond! I just need to make her come one more time…”
“You do that.” And then there was a hard, hot cock swarming up her from behind, encouraging her in her mission. “Make her come.”
Selina, driven to addle-brained fever by the firm thrusting at her rear, plunged her mouth once more over the royal clitoris, bathing and laving, tickling and teasing. Elrond’s fingers dug into her hips for purchase and he plowed her mercilessly while she licked. The grip of the vine was becoming ever more tenuo
us, whole sections slipping away and thudding to the ground. The Princess’s body was flushed now, her chest heaving, her nipples tight. She began to twist her limbs and throw back her head against the bark, panting away. Only her closed eyes and the skewering action of the vines inside her sex conveyed her imprisonment now.
The pressure of Elrond’s cock on Selina’s G-spot threw her into her own undoing, her cries vibrating against Ellora’s clitoris so that the Princess could no longer fight her third and biggest orgasm. Elrond, watching the two girls brought into rapture, released his own seed deep into Selina’s willing darkness, then he leapt back in alarm as the Princess’s eyes flew open and the vines snapped away, shrinking and shriveling until the entire plant dried into dust and disappeared.
A year and a day later, the Princess was married. Not to a gilded Princeling, chosen for her by her father, but to Selina. At the reception, August Villiers and the King fought a duel that proved fatal to the pair of them, and the Kingdom was thereafter ruled, fairly and wisely, by its joint Queens. Elrond continued to provide sterling service to his mistresses, and they all lived, as they deserved to do, happily ever after.
ELLIE AND THE SHOEMAKER
Louisa Harte
It was the end of summer and I needed a job. I’d been traveling for the past few months, but money had become tight. I saw an ad for a temporary assistant in a shoe store—the pay was good and it included free lodging, so I decided to check it out.
It wasn’t what I expected. Tucked down a side street in a quiet part of town, the shop was small and unassuming. Still, the job had its perks—the owner for a start.
Tall and slim with dark glossy hair and a smart black suit, Jake was just my type. Up close he was even more attractive. As he showed me around the shop, his words went in one ear and out the other as I stared at his dark red lips, the cute mole on the left side of his nose and those gray-green eyes that sparkled when he smiled. He seemed shy though, as if he didn’t realize just how sexy he was, and that made him more attractive.
The shop stocked a small range of shoes: simple, functional footwear that got a regular trade. The biggest surprise was that Jake made them all himself on the premises. I thought he was kidding until he led me to his workbench at the back of the shop for a demonstration. Donning a pair of studious black-framed glasses, he sat down on a stool and got to work. Sitting opposite, I watched as he cut and stitched the pieces of leather together to make a neat pair of shoes. Smart and sensible, the shoes weren’t quite my style. But the guy was a natural. He took such care over making them: the intense look in his eyes, the passionate way he handled the leather…
It took all my effort to concentrate on the job. By the time he’d finished, I’d imagined him in at least six compromising positions, most of which included us naked on the workbench. Still, I reminded myself this was business not pleasure and managed to make a few sensible comments without betraying my feelings. After the demonstration, Jake took me upstairs to show me the room. Simple and sparse, it was all right, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off Jake. He was so damn cute! I was sure from the way I was gawking at him he’d think I was a complete jerk.
But to my surprise, I was hired.
Next morning, the first thing Jake showed me was how to fit customers for shoes. Seating me on a stool, he slipped off my sandals. I was glad I was sitting down as my legs went all shaky when he touched me. Normally guys don’t have this effect on me, but the way Jake held my foot and let his fingers play over my skin as he ran the measuring guide up against my toes turned me on. I tried to pay attention, but with him kneeling at my feet, his warm hands on my legs, I just wanted to ruck up my skirt and fuck him right there.
Fortunately, Jake was completely professional. If he sensed my lust, he didn’t let on. He seemed far too busy for workplace distractions. He spent the rest of the day hunched over the bench turning out those smart, sensible shoes.
But my lustful thoughts wouldn’t go away. Even after we closed the shop and I went up to my room, I couldn’t switch off. I just kept picturing Jake’s slim fingers tucked into my knickers, his lithe body banging me over the wooden workbench. In the end I had to do something. Splayed out on the sofa in a skimpy robe, I closed my eyes and indulged my imagination. Sliding my hand between my thighs, I played with my pussy, trying to stifle the moans as I brought myself off.
I thought that should do it. But the next day, I still felt exactly the same. So I channeled my energy into serving the customers. What customers we had. They were few and far between. Still, Jake assured me he had his regulars, so I kept busy while Jake toiled away at the bench in the background. Then the telephone rang. Shadows passed over Jake’s face as he answered it.
“I’ve got to go out,” he said after he finished the call. “Will you be okay on your own, Ellie?”
Surprised, I nodded.
He didn’t get back until late. He came in and went straight to his workbench and stared off into space.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Jake dropped his head, his gloriously glossy hair falling over his eyes as he answered. “Ellie, I’m broke.”
That was it. In a second his world had come crashing down, mine with it. I’d only just started this job and I didn’t want to lose it.
Seeing the concern on my face, Jake tried to sound hopeful. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll get through it.” But his voice sounded flat. Too tired to even think about sewing, he went upstairs to bed.
In a daze I went up to my room. The business was in trouble and yet he had still taken me on? I was touched. Curled up in my skimpy gown on the sofa, sipping a vodka, that’s when I decided to help out. Perhaps it was a mix of alcohol and sexual frustration that made a night of sewing sound attractive, but regardless, I pulled my robe around me, crept downstairs and let myself into the shop.
Flicking on the light, I went over to Jake’s workbench. On top of the bench were a few scraps of leather. This was likely his last batch of material. I paused as memories of high school sewing class flooded my mind—me sitting at the sewing machine trying not to feed it my fingers; Mum cringing at those crappy cushion covers I made; Dad’s head engulfed in oversized sweaters and the hideous skirt I’d made to go out on the town that unraveled until it looked more like a belt. Still, this wasn’t the time for doubt and gritting my teeth, I laid out Jake’s tools and sat down to work.
At first I was awkward. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, but after a while I fell into a rhythm. My hands moved in a blur, as if some strange force had taken me over. It was like magic, something I couldn’t explain, and within a few hours I’d finished.
I sat back and examined my creation. I had to admit I was impressed. By some strange freak of nature I’d made a really unique pair of shoes. Stylish and with a cute pointed toe, they were sassy. With a smile, I left the shoes in the middle of the bench and crept back upstairs to bed. I couldn’t wait to see Jake’s reaction.
Next morning, I went downstairs and opened up early. Jake walked in and did a double take. Walking over to the bench, he picked up the shoes. “What the…”
My stomach clenched as he studied them. I hoped I hadn’t screwed up.
But turning to face me, Jake shot me a smile. “These are amazing—the stitching is so good, it looks like it’s been done by an expert.”
I basked in his praise.
But then he looked puzzled. “Where did they come from?”
Feeling coy, I dropped my gaze. “Perhaps you’ve got an admirer…”
Jake shook his head. God, he was sexy with that self-deprecating smile. Before he could ask any more awkward questions, I plucked the shoes from his hands and put them on display in the window.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Selling them of course.”
To our delight, the shoes sold within an hour. Some rich woman came in and snapped them up, not batting an eye at the ridiculously high price I named. Jake went out and bought a colourful new batch
of leather with the money, enough to make another two pairs of shoes. But on his return, he looked tense. “Ellie, what if people want more shoes like that?”
“Sleep on it, I’m sure something will work out,” I offered.
“Yeah, okay. Why not,” he said with a smile.
I couldn’t believe it; Jake was loosening up. But I had a job to do and that night, I was at it again. Huddled at his workbench in my silky gown, I got to work. It was just like the previous night: as soon as I sat down at that bench, I went into a trance, my fingers deftly stitching like I was under a spell. This time I knocked out two pairs of shoes: a green pair with pink heels and a pair so black and shiny I could see my face in them. Kinky. Still, I wasn’t gonna argue with my muse. I’d found my passion. Second to Jake, of course. The smile he’d given me was worth every minute hunched over his tatty workbench.
Next day, the shoes sold instantly. The buyers were awed, saying how “unique” and “exquisite” they were. I shrugged; there was no accounting for taste. But the price they paid was no joke and with the money Jake went straight out to buy more leather.
And so it went on. It became like a drug. I got high on Jake’s increasing excitement. Every morning he came down earlier to see what surprises awaited him on the bench. After a while he even stopped asking questions. Perhaps a little part of him was starting to believe in his secret admirer. The shop became popular as its reputation spread. While Jake continued making shoes for his regular customers, I secretly worked by night turning out the crazy, funky designs. Together we were drawing crowds from miles around.
Those weren’t the only changes. As the shop got busier, Jake spent less time at his workbench and more time with me. As I set up displays, he hovered behind me. Reveling in his attention, I let my skirt ride up to flash him my thighs, unbuttoned my blouse to show a bit of cleavage. From the look on his face, I was getting a reaction. But I was too afraid to act on it, too afraid to screw things up. If only Jake would make a move, transfer his passion from the workbench to me…
Fairy Tale Lust Page 5
