Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women (8 page)

"The glass slippers that you gave me are making me very unhappy, Godmother," she whimpered.

Her fairy godmother drew in a sharp breath. "Why, my dear," she cried defensively, "I was certain they were a perfect fit!" How dare the girl question her abilities?

"Well yes, but they are so
confining!
" replied Cinderella.

Her fairy godmother was stunned into silence by that. What could she say? Who presumed that a glass slipper, or a prince's kingdom, or any other fairy-tale aspiration for that matter, would
not
be confining?

"It's as if I can't be myself in those shoes," continued Cinderella. "I can't even remember who myself is."

"Ah," said the wise fairy godmother. She could not comprehend the connection this complaint had to do with the lovely glass slippers, but as it happened she was very well acquainted with the ever-prevalent issue of self-identity. What fairy godmother wasn't these days, what with frogs who believed they were princes and wolves impersonating grandmothers? And as luck would have it, the recommended cure came in the form of two lovely slippers, the uppers of which were made from the softest part of lambs' ears, and bound together with the wispy tendons of bat wings, and all of this was soled with the rubbery tips of a thousand tiny leaping frogs' fingers. In addition to heightening the wearer's self-awareness and desires, the slippers were above all comfortable, so with a little good fortune they would cure Cinderella of everything that ailed her.

"I do have the cure," her godmother announced, "but I must give you this warning— self-discovery is a solitary activity, and the discoverer must have a care not to alienate those who matter most to them."

Cinderella nodded her head impatiently. Her fairy godmother's warning was too ambiguous to concern her overmuch, especially since she was so discontented as to try anything new, regardless of consequences.

So without further ado, her godmother waved her magic wand and lightly tapped Cinderella's feet, each in turn. They both watched with fascination as the glass slippers magically dissolved away into nothingness. Almost immediately the glass was replaced with the softest imaginable material of the palest possible pink. The exotic material weaved itself elaborately around Cinderella's feet, starting at the tips of her toes, continuing along the arch of her foot, and finally winding itself over her heel and around her ankle. Cinderella's eyes widened in amazement as the remarkable slipper took shape in a most clever design around her foot. She arched her ankle and twisted it this way and that in admiration as she watched, never having seen anything so utterly exquisite before in her life.

Now Cinderella's feet had become all but deadened from the dreaded glass slippers, but very stealthily sensation was returning to them, as a tingling awareness of the magnificently soft material encroached upon all of her foot's nerve endings. She wiggled her toes in approval, and the luscious feeling of her skin moving within the supple slippers sent shivers of delight all the way up her legs. She gasped and squealed with glee. Feeling as if she had the abilities and grace of a gazelle, she pushed herself up onto her toes and laughed merrily as she spread her arms wide for a pirouette. Her fairy godmother smiled as she watched Cinderella. Perhaps she would fashion herself a pair, too…

Later that evening, when the prince returned to his castle, he called out for Cinderella again and again, only to find, again and again, that she was not there to answer him. He was extremely concerned by this, as it had virtually never happened before, and more to the point, there were dangers always present and lurking in their kingdom. There were ogres and witches and even worse in nearby forests, lying in wait for any opportunity to infiltrate their kingdom and cause their mischief. As he searched the castle with no sign of his wife, he grew more and more concerned. Could some mishap have befallen Cinderella?

When he was certain that Cinderella was nowhere within the castle, the prince gallantly mounted his horse and rode out to find her. He circled the castle, and after that the kingdom, in increasingly larger segments, that he might cover every inch through to their borders. As he did this, he stopped at every sign of habitation to ask if anyone had seen Cinderella.

The search continued for many hours until the prince reached a certain tavern from which lively music poured forth. Frustrated and exhausted from his utter lack of success thus far, he thought the tavern an unlikely lead indeed, but unwilling to leave a single stone unturned he wearily slid himself from his horse and went inside.

The prince gasped in astonishment just as the tavern doors were closing behind him. There, directly opposite his gaping eyes, was Cinderella, laughing and dancing as if she had not a care in the world. Her expression was happier than he had seen it in several years, and his outrage was temporarily distinguished by memories of the last time she looked just that way, a long time ago, on the dance floor where they first met. It had been that look that had stolen his heart, blinding him to everything but finding her again and making her his wife.

But too soon after they married, that look had disappeared from her face, and frowns and pouts had taken its place.

Until now, that is.

And much as the prince had longed to see that look on Cinderella's face once again, this was certainly not the setting he had imagined seeing it in. Why was she here? Who was she with? How could she have come here without the slightest regard for his feelings, or even a simple note to advise him of where she would be, which at least would have saved him the efforts of the last agonizing hours he'd spent trying to find her? He was shocked and confused by her astonishing behavior. But his confusion was quickly giving way to anger as he edged through the crowd toward his wife.

At last Cinderella noticed the prince, just as he was approaching, and her face froze for a mere second in stunned surprise before she rushed into his arms. She was breathless and smiling again as she kissed him and whispered happily, "There you are, my darling!"

The prince was completely disarmed by this greeting.

"I was just wishing you were here, and here you are!" she continued, winding one arm around his neck and placing the other inside his warm hand for a dance, which he found himself engaged in even before he willed it. She examined his face with a queer little smile on her lips. She seemed to be searching for something.

With effort he shook himself out of her spell long enough to ask, "Where have you been?" This seemed rather dull-witted, though, since she had obviously been here in this strange tavern, so he added, "Why didn't you tell me where you were going?"

"Until just a few minutes ago I had forgotten all about you" was her forthright reply, spoken so guilelessly that it was impossible to detect offense.

The prince was stunned yet again; becoming, in turns, confused, shocked, annoyed and angry.

"I'm taking you home," he announced, leading Cinderella out of the tavern and lifting her onto his horse. She went with him willingly enough, and without a word. As they rode toward the castle she wiggled closer to him repeatedly, and her arms tightened lovingly around his chest. She felt excited and alive to be riding thus with her husband at night, and it aroused her further to rub herself against the prince while straddling the horse. She felt as if every minute was hers to be enjoyed, lived and spent. She could not bear to let a single moment pass without experiencing some little joy.

The prince was trying to stay aloof but it was nearly impossible for him to remain so while Cinderella was rubbing up against him in such an enticing fashion. He felt that she must be mocking him, but even so he found himself stopping the horse suddenly and pulling her down from it. And then he was once again on familiar ground, tearing at his wife's skirts, knowing what he wanted and that she would willingly comply.

All at once Cinderella jerked herself away from the prince and ran, half-naked, into the darkness. The prince could not see her clearly, but he could hear her fluttering about, laughing childishly.

Cinderella spun around and around in the fields. She could not say why, but she was loath to be subdued and taken just yet.

After a shocked moment the prince followed Cinderella, calling her name out sharply. This amused her all the more, and she laughed the harder as she weaved this way and that in the darkness. The air was cool on her flesh and it began to tingle.

The prince had reached the limits of his endurance by now, and he called out for her once again in the same tone a fed-up parent uses with a naughty child. But Cinderella paid no heed to this, merely continuing her butterflylike weaving this way and that around the prince and his horse.

The prince decided the only way to put a stop to Cinderella and her bizarre behavior was to catch her, which he promptly attempted to do, as he slowly and lithely made his way into the darkness, crouching down low and listening for her laughter and breathing and her light steps as she ran. His body, in anticipation, hardened and tensed. His heart slammed in his chest. He too felt suddenly very alive.

As soon as she perceived that the prince was stalking her, Cinderella ceased her laughing at once. Her breath stopped in her throat. Where was the prince exactly? It was very dark and there were too many shadows to discern which was what. Childish fear played at her fancy but a strange titillation and anticipation was stealthily building up and overpowering the fear.

A few yards to one side of her, Cinderella could make out the darker shadows of a forest. Thinking to hide in these woods, she warily took one step in the direction of the shadows. She stood very still for a moment and listened. Knowing that her husband was somewhere out there in the darkness, listening, waiting,
preying
on her, sent a sharp thrill right through her. She resisted the urge to bolt for the woods and very cautiously took another step. Again she listened but there was no sound. She lifted her foot to take yet another step toward the woods.

But quicker than a wild beast, the prince had her, snatching her by the arm and pulling her to him, so that Cinderella came up against him quite abruptly. Before she even comprehended her situation enough to scream, he was crushing her lips with his. Her whole body shuddered against his, and feeling her tremble, he lifted his mouth from hers to search her face. In his eyes there was no more anger, only desire. Her eyes reflected that desire, so he kissed her again, but with much more gentleness this time.

The prince moved slowly this time, first carefully laying out a place for Cinderella, then removing her clothes and finally, removing his own. He tentatively put his hands on her, at first simply touching her skin, and spreading out his fingers so she could become accustomed to his warm hands on her cool flesh. His hands roamed deliberately over her body, coddling and loving her first, then becoming more demanding as he rediscovered the places that brought him the most pleasure. He leaned over Cinderella and kissed the tips of her breasts as his hands moved over her belly and down between her legs. She arched her hips and moaned. But the prince's hand suddenly became brusque and even offensive as he rubbed her brutally.

Something in the back of Cinderella's mind recoiled and then came alive. No; she would not let this opportunity pass away from her! She boldly took hold of her husband's hand and stopped his thoughtless chafing. After a brief moment, having got his attention, she placed his hand correctly between her legs, pressing the tips of his fingers into that one particular place that she had always wished he would touch. She moved his fingers very slowly over her flesh in the way it felt best, and with just the right amount of pressure. She sensed his initial shock, but hadn't he, too, shocked her on many such occasions?

The prince allowed Cinderella to lead his hand, trying his best to halt his tendency to grab and plunge, and realized suddenly that he had only been making cursory efforts to touch her there in an attempt to get himself into her, and take her, like some rutting bull.

As one hypnotized, the prince was fully under Cinderella's spell and eagerly waited for her to enlighten him further on her pleasure. It took effort and self-control to hold back and gently and carefully touch the place where her hand was pressing his into her soft flesh, but he concentrated all his energies on what she was trying to show him. She loosened her hold as he became more skillful, and it thrilled him when she moved her hips against his capable hand.

Using the most sensitive parts of his fingertips, the prince very gently felt all around her exposed flesh, searching very vigilantly for a clue to her secrets. Just above her soft opening he discovered a small bud of flesh that appeared to be quite tender. He noticed how Cinderella quivered when he rubbed the little bud in just the right way, just at the top where it begins, in a circular motion, and at just the right tension and speed. It thrilled him to see her tremble and shake beneath his fingertips, and he could not resist every now and then slipping a finger into her, and shuddering when he felt the soft, silky wetness that was the reward for his efforts.

Every now and then the prince, in his impatience, would unconsciously quicken the motions of his fingers, in his impatience to bring about Cinderella's climax, but each time he did this, she would bring him back to attention with a gentle motion of her hand, as a reminder of how she liked it. Each of these little incidents caused another surge of excitement to fill his loins, until he thought he might explode. Even so, he was determined that she should be thoroughly satisfied and would have joyfully administered this pleasure to her throughout the night if she had wished it.

However, Cinderella was presently breathing very quickly, in short little gasps. She had momentarily lost all awareness of the prince, for strange little fragments of sensual scenarios were playing themselves out inside her brain. The prince, meanwhile, could sense that he was very close to bringing his wife the satisfaction she had so often given him, so he focused all his concentration to what his fingers were doing. He forced himself to keep a slow, even pace, as his fingertips relentlessly rubbed and twirled her swollen flesh. Suddenly he realized she had arrived at the peak of her excitement, and it took all his self-control to keep the steady pace until she was fully relieved, but he did just that. And even when she was finished, he very leisurely and gently held her there, and then kissed and licked her there, relishing in her wet silkiness. Cinderella moaned and shuddered in utter contentment.