Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women (12 page)

Her whole body shook with frustration and anxiety over the enormity of the task that lay before her. She was in a constant state of arousal as she wandered about the room, doing unimaginable things with complete strangers. And as the night wore on, she could not determine one touch from the next, but only hoped for a miraculous sign that would enlighten her and free her from the degrading search she had been forced to endure. And all the while she knew that her prince was there, silently listening to her moans and cries as she traversed the room, and perceiving her inability to quit the arms of each impostor before giving a little bit of herself to him.

Tears poured down her cheeks as she pressed on, discouraged, but unable to give up until she found him. She wondered if she had encountered the servant from the dining room yet, and if so, how far she had allowed him to go with her. Was he one of the men who had taken her right there on the floor, easing the aching hunger she felt, if only for the moment?

Blindly she stumbled on, praying for a miracle. And there, in front of her, stood yet another man. She approached him with the tears still on her cheeks.

Abruptly the man clutched her in a fierce embrace and crushed her lips under his. She could not remember having ever been kissed so violently and struggled to get away from the savage grasp that was bruising her skin. He did not relent, however, and she almost cried out for help, but at that same moment she remembered that she could not speak. If she spoke out she would not only lose her prince forever, but possibly be obliged to remain with this brute as well! A real terror seized her, as she realized that the violent stranger might force himself on her, without her even being able to utter a single word.

But the man seemed to collect himself and he loosened his hold somewhat, although not enough so that she could escape him. For several moments he simply held her close to him, and she could feel his heart hammering inside his chest. His face was buried in her hair and, momentarily mesmerized by the smell of it; he relaxed his hold on her slightly as he inhaled the sweet scent.

Thinking this her opportunity to bolt, she twisted herself out of his grasp and turned to flee. In that instant, the enchanted comb fell from her hair, releasing it, even as her captor reached out for her. Her loosened tresses fell directly into one of his hands and he closed it tightly around them. She was abruptly obliged to halt her escape.

Very slowly, and purposefully, he wound her hair around his hand, round and round, bringing her closer and closer to him, until her face was only inches from his own. Something within her stirred. With his hand still clutching her hair, he gently pulled backwards, forcing her head back and positioning her lips directly below his own. She felt his familiar warm breath on her lips before he claimed them in a gentle kiss, just like the old familiar kisses she now remembered. She shuddered to think that she had almost run away from him. But why had he been so violent with her when she first approached him?

She blushed suddenly as she imagined her prince standing there in the dark, listening to the sounds of her lovemaking with those impostors who managed to fool her into thinking that they were him. She realized that it was anger that had made him grab her so brutally.

But he was tender with her now, as his body entered her right there where he was obliged to stand until she released him. They clung to each other in the darkness and, finally certain of her true prince, she whispered, "I love you."

Upon this admission, they were at once returned to the castle of the white bear, where they were both once again lying together in their very own bed. There were one hundred candles lit about the room, and the two gazed at each other, amazed by all that had happened.

The prince and his true love were married, of course, and have lived happily together since that day. And though she loves nothing more than the sight of her handsome prince, his wife sometimes dreams about that unknown lover, and, on such occasions, he comes to her.

Even now, this very evening, the prince is waiting outside her bedchamber door until it is fully dark, when he will slip quietly in…

Goldilocks and the Three Barons

T
here is little that is so utterly vexing as an interfering busybody. Such a one is always poking about, seemingly trying to learn about causes and effects, but generally just stirring up a great deal of trouble over nothing. These meddlesome trespassers bash and barge their way into the most intimate places, disregarding decorum and logic in their efforts to create an illusion of something shocking or remarkable. It matters not whether the affair they are about to divulge is real or factual; either way it must be exposed. And one of the most notorious of these offenders was Goldilocks.

Goldilocks was deeply interested in matters not relating to her, particularly those of a confidential nature. These she would turn into feature articles that she would then submit to her editor at the
Woodland Enquirer
. She had exposed and humiliated countless inhabitants of the forest in just this way, and it was a dreadful thing, indeed, when one was unfortunate enough to have done something to capture her notice.

It was through this circumstance that Goldilocks came to be in a more remote part of the forest one morning, in search of three English barons who lived there. It was a curious and unusual thing to her that three men should decide to separate themselves from civilization and live alone together in the deepest part of the woods. Unconventional behavior, to her mind, was synonymous with wrongdoing, and since the men were wealthy and renowned, she felt it her responsibility to reveal their secrets to the world.

The barons, on the other hand, were completely unaware of the interest they had stirred with their actions. Although they were indeed isolated from the rest of society, living so far out in the country, the lifestyle nevertheless suited them, for they were pompous and intolerant by nature, and found the general community to be somewhat odious and tiresome. The common tastes of the majority were unbearably vulgar to them, and the general public's concerns seemed utterly absurd. In view of these opinions, it did not seem at all out of the ordinary to the barons that they should wish to separate themselves from what they considered to be the lower classes. And, in truth, these supposed lower classes were no doubt better off for not having shared a more intimate acquaintance with the snooty barons.

And so it was, with their usual self-absorption and total unawareness of any interests outside of their own, that the barons sat down to eat their morning meal. Their only immediate concern was the observation that their morning porridge was unusually hot. A discussion ensued to determine a solution to the matter.

"I say," remarked the first baron, raising his eyebrows and addressing his friends in an icy tone. "This porridge is exceedingly hot."

"Indeed," agreed the next. "It is offensive, to say the very least."

"Perhaps we should leave it where it lies in its incorrigible heat," added the third. "In time, I think, it will rehabilitate to something much more palatable."

So saying, the three set out for a morning walk in the woods, where they leisurely wandered about, amusing themselves with anecdotes about the wildlife that dwelled there. The animals scampered about happily, unsuspecting of any insult in the barons' mocking innuendos.

While the barons were thus discharged, Goldilocks discovered their secluded cottage. As she was not often of the mind to address her subjects directly, she approached the house cautiously. Very stealthily, so as not to be discovered, she advanced toward the back of the cottage and peered into a window. This glimpse did not provide the verification she sought, however, so she proceeded to another window, and then another, until she was finally satisfied that the house was, for the moment, abandoned.

Goldilocks crept up to the front entryway and put her ear against the door. There was not a sound to be heard within. Next she ventured a timid knock, to which there was no response. She tentatively turned the doorknob and, delighted to find the door unlocked, she opened it up and poked her head inside. After a moment, she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her.

Once inside the cottage, Goldilocks immediately noticed the porridge, dished out in bowls upon the table. As she was unmindful of the offense she committed by entering the barons' cottage uninvited, it should not shock the reader that Goldilocks would further impose by tasting their food, which was so carefully laid out that she imagined it must have been intended for a guest such as herself to eat. Indeed, it would have seemed downright rude not to have done so. Besides, one can learn quite a lot about persons by the food that they eat, she reasoned neatly. And so, without further thought or consideration over the matter, she seated herself before one of the bowls and lifted the spoon to her lips.

"Oh," she exclaimed, jerking back. "This is too hot!" She pulled out her notebook and jotted down a few words. Then she moved to the second bowl to taste of it. But she nearly choked on that one as well, remarking, "This is too cold." Again she scribbled in her notebook. But the third bowl was more to her liking, and she said, "This is just right!" She made another quick notation before finishing the contents of that bowl.

Having concluded her research in the kitchen, Goldilocks ventured into the living room. There she found three very different chairs. She sat on one of them and practically slid right off the seat. "My goodness, this is much too hard!" she exclaimed, making a few notes before she went on. She sat on another chair and nearly disappeared into the cushions. "This is too soft," she observed, recording her thoughts. But the third chair was very comfortable, and she said, "This is just right." But the chair was old and, with a low creaking noise it suddenly burst apart, tossing poor Goldilocks onto the hard wooden floor. Furiously she scribbled in her notebook.

Confident now that she had indeed stumbled upon a story of significance, Goldilocks continued her tour down a long hallway that led to a room with three beds in it. Without sparing a single thought for modesty, she plunked herself down on one of the beds.

"This is too hard," she complained, moving to the next bed after making a quick note. "This is too soft" was her opinion of the second bed, which she duly recorded. But once again, the third one was a charm and, as she lay in the bed writing down her observations, her eyelids drooped. In a matter of moments she had fallen asleep!

Now as Goldilocks was sleeping peacefully in the bed, the barons returned home from their walk. Their appetites were heightened by the exercise, and they hungrily approached their bowls of porridge. But in an instant they noticed that something was amiss.

"I say," announced the first baron, with his usual pretentious air. "It appears as if someone has been nipping at my porridge."

"How droll!" exclaimed the second. But then, noticing his own bowl of porridge, he gasped. "Oh, dear" was all he seemed able to manage.

"Someone has indeed been eating our porridge," reported the third. "For there is not a drop left in my bowl!"

Alarmed by this singular event, the barons immediately set out to see if anything else in their home had been molested. The minute they entered the living room they noticed their chairs in disarray.

"Someone has been sitting in my chair," claimed the first, though no visible mark had been left on the hard wooden chair.

"Ditto for mine," assented the second, who stared without comprehension at the imprints left by Goldilocks's buttocks on the soft cushions.

"But what of my chair?" stormed the third. "It has been broken to bits!"

The three now advanced warily into the bedroom. The first baron gasped when he saw the crumpled blankets on his bed. "Someone has been sleeping in my bed!" he announced.

"Someone has been sleeping in my bed," echoed the second.

"Someone has been sleeping in my bed, and she's still there!" declared the third, utterly astounded by this turn of events.

The high-pitched tone of this last remark startled Goldilocks awake. You can imagine her shock to see the three barons towering over her! She immediately jumped up, with the intention of making her escape through an open window, but the baron whose bed she had been sleeping in held her fast.

"Who are you, and why are you sleeping in my bed?" he asked her in an imperious tone.

"I'm Goldilocks," she replied. But of course she had no explanation for being in the baron's bed.

"You've eaten my porridge, broken my chair and messed up the blankets on my bed," continued the baron, looking her up and down with an expression of utter disdain. He held her with two fingers, while the remaining three fingers stood up at an angle as if to avoid contamination. "Hold still while I contact the authorities!"

"Oh, no!" cried Goldilocks. "You cannot do that." She was still trying to work her way out of the last legal dispute that had developed over her disreputable journalistic ethics. Even her editor would not be able to help her out of this one!

The baron seemed genuinely perplexed by her outburst. "Cannot I?" he asked. "But why ever not?" He looked at his friends quizzically, but they only returned his puzzled stare, unable to provide a logical reason why he could not call the authorities.

"Because I have been expressly assigned to come here!" lied Goldilocks hastily, struggling frantically to come up with a plausible excuse for her actions, preferably one that would keep her from being sued again.

"Expressly assigned?" repeated the baron, more confused than ever. It never occurred to him that he was being bamboozled. "Under whose employ were you expressly assigned to come here, and for what reason?"

"Well…um," Goldilocks tried to think of a quick answer.

"I bet it was Count Wallingford!" spoke up one of the other barons suddenly. "Don't you remember the hoax we played on him last winter?"

They all looked at Goldilocks in wonder. She smiled, attempting to look like she had been found out, grasping at the baron's suggestion without understanding his meaning.