Goose Girl

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~ Goose Girl ~

Based on the Brothers
Grimm Tale

A Twisted Fairy
Tale

Adapted by

Giselle Renarde

Copyright © 2010 Giselle Renarde

Smashwords Edition

En route to meet her handsome prince,
Princess Svana begs her waiting-maid Rosamunda for a quick cuddle.
Rosamunda complies, then takes by force the princess' royal
apparel. Before Svana can say, "Identity Theft," the waiting-maid
marries her prince and the poor princess must take a job minding
geese. When the perv-y goose boy vexes her, the aged king hatches a
plan to get Rosamunda to reveal her identity.

The Goose Girl

Once upon a time, there were two old queens
who raised a beautiful daughter. With the undying love of the
community and a positive relationship with her birth mother,
Princess Svana, the mistress of her castle, grew into a happy and
well-adjusted individual. Her ideology embraced the concepts of
freedom and justice for all, a philosophy not particularly common
in the feudal era, but Svana always was ahead of her time.

When she was quite young, Princess Svana was
betrothed to a fabulous prince whose father was a friend of the
queens' from way back in the disco epoch. Even the tabloid reports
confirmed prince Everitt was honorable, open-minded and handsome as
a fairy's own child. Svana couldn't have been more delighted with
the choice, or more excited about her future prospects. Despite her
personal principles, the queens had taught her the overarching
importance of good looks. A handsome husband meant everything.

On the occasion of her eighteenth birthday,
it was time for Svana to take her leave of the caring queens and
marry the good royal. Unfortunately, prince Everitt lived at a
great distance. In preparation of her departure, the aged queens
packed for their daughter many costly trinkets, jewels, and cups
made of gold and silver. In short, they sent with Svana everything
which appertained to a royal dowry, for they loved their baby girl
with all their hearts.

As you might expect, Svana was not
particularly happy to leave behind her many friends, the beloved
queens, her birth mom, her pets, and that green grocer who never
forgot to import a few mangos from faraway lands. So, to appease
their darling daughter, the queens sent along a maid-in-waiting,
Rosamunda. The strong-as-an-ox servant was to ride with the
princess and hand her over to the bridegroom, making very certain
nobody messed with their baby girl along the way. And messing with
Svana was a distinct temptation for all who beheld her, such was
her incredible beauty. Apart from that one time with the green
grocer, which didn't really count since it was underwater, she'd
managed to keep herself relatively un-messed-with.

When the hour of parting arrived, the aged queens
and b-mom stood around their girl, weeping into a communal
handkerchief. How sad they were to see Svana go. In that moment,
darling b-mom took a small knife from the pocket of her frock and
cut her own finger. She held the tear-stained hanky to it, allowing
three drops of crimson peasant blood to absorb into the white
fabric. Feeling rather out in the cold, the queens pierced their
own fingers, but could not coax a single drop of blue blood from
their bodies.

With a knowing smile, b-mom gave the hanky
to her only daughter and said, "Dear child, preserve this
carefully. It will be of service to you on your way."

They embraced, the two queens, Svana, and
her birth mother, one last time, kissing each other's tear-stained
cheeks and wishing one another the best of health and fortune. It
would be a long while before they would all be together again, they
knew. Svana would miss her progenitor and her adoptive parents
every day of her existence, until they met once more in the castle
under her rule. Taking sorrowful leave of her mom and the queens,
the princess stuck the bloodstained piece of cloth in her tight
bosom, mounted her horse, and went away to her bridegroom.

* * *

Each woman, both the princess and the maid,
Rosamunda, had a horse for the journey, but there was something
quite unique about the mare the queens' daughter rode. She was
called Falada, and possessed the uncanny ability to speak. Svana
had found this quality rather unsettling at the start, but now took
comfort in the horse's low rumbling tones and higher, lilting
whinnies. As Rosamunda went on ahead, Svana confessed her
apprehensions as well as her exhilaration to the mare, and in
speaking the words felt much more at peace in her journey.

After riding Falada, the speaking mare, for
some distance, Svana began to feel a delicious sensation between
her legs. The rhythmic bouncing pressure against her lower lips
generated an undeniably pleasant heat at the apex of her thighs.
This was by far her favorite part of riding, this beautiful wet
burn. In time, she could no longer bear the suspended bliss of it
and, bringing Falada to a halt in the center of a vast field, Svana
surprised her waiting-maid with a request:

"Oh, my dearest Rosamunda, riding this way
has my precious cavern flowing with love nectar. I feel I would die
without immediate gratification. I beg you, dismount, and take a
drink from my cup."

"You have got to be
kidding me," Rosamunda replied, halting her ride as well. "First of
all,
precious cavern? Love nectar?
Who the hell talks like that, Miss Priss? If
you're horny, you can bloody well get yourself off. I don't choose
to be your servant."

Svana was not surprised by her maid's harsh
words. They had grown accustomed to one another's ways, even in
this short time together. So, in her great thirst, the princess
laid her head down on Falada’s great rump. After pulling her skirt
tails up well over her waist, Svana tapped with one finger at her
engorged lower lips. So sensitive were they from the riding that
even the slightest pressure sent waves of pleasure throughout her
body.

The wetness between her thighs was hardly a
shock, for Svana's pussy was extremely responsive. She was every
bit as likely to appreciate a codpiece askew as she was to behold
the great tumbling cleavage of a peasant woman. Bodies delighted
her eyes, and as she observed the puffy white clouds against the
bright blue sky, she reflected upon such bawdy sights as those.

Rubbing her fingers against the juicy folds
of her craving cunt, Svana panted and moaned. Her ample breasts
jumped as she fingered herself, her stiff nipples popping out from
under her corset. Her nipples were nearly as dark as the red of her
bodice, though her flesh was nowhere near as gold as the precious
thread woven through. Stroking the waters of her swollen pussy, the
princess abandoned herself to the immensity of her personal
pleasure. She rubbed faster and faster, her big breasts bouncing,
until the pleasure was so vast she had to squeeze her eyes shut
just to stay sane. Gritting her teeth, Svana yelped like a pup as
every fiber of her being jumped for joy.

Oh, her thirst was slaked, but how her hand
ached. Perhaps she was developing carpel tunnel syndrome. Or
repetitive stress disorder.

When the princess regained her composure,
she sat upright on Falada's back only to realize how sopping wet
her underskirts had become. It was nothing if not a pleasant
reminder of the day's self-induced gratification. As she arranged
her freed breasts back into her corset, Svana was overcome with a
sudden realization that quickly evolved into panic: what had become
of the bloodstained handkerchief her birth mother had given her?
She'd pressed it between her breasts before they'd taken leave of
the castle, and now it was nowhere to be found.

"Ah, heaven," the princess cried, hopping
from her horse to explore her surroundings.

Falada nuzzled the distraught girl, then
cocked her head to indicate where the hanky had fallen. As Svana
breathed a relieved sigh and bent to pick it up, the talking mare
stated,

"If this your mother knew,

Her heart would break in two."

"What does that mean?"
Svana shoved the square of fabric safely between her breasts.
"If
what
my
mother knew?"

The speaking mare only whinnied. Svana
mounted her horse. Where had her maid-in-waiting gone? The horse
remained, but Rosamunda was nowhere to be seen.

"Rosamunda? Rosamunda!" Svana rode Falada in
circles around the clearing, calling for her maid until the servant
appeared on the scene with a jewel-encrusted cup of water in hand.
"Rosamunda, dear maid, where in the world have you been all this
time?"

Rosamunda shrugged. "You've slaked your
thirst, now I am slaking mine." And, having spoken brashly to the
princess, she guzzled the wet contents of Svana's chalice.

"But you drink from my golden cup," Svana
whined. "The queens packed that for me, as part of my dowry. It
isn't yours to use, and certainly not without permission."

Again, Rosamunda shrugged. "I would have
asked, but you were busy."

* * *

Some miles further on, the women found themselves
galloping over hill and dale. The warm wind combed Svana's golden
hair while Rosamunda's dark locks thrashed behind her back like a
furious whip. Again, the princess ached with delight each time her
pussy fell hard against Falada's broad back. Every beat was a
spanking against her naughty little lips, and she could feel the
wetness developing once again between her thighs. Oh, the pleasure
was too much to bear.

Bringing the horse to a halt on a grassy
plateau, Svana turned again to rugged Rosamunda. Svana had already
forgotten the girl's ill words of earlier that day.

"Oh, my dearest Rosamunda," the princess
repeated. "Riding this way has my precious cavern desperate for .
gratification. I beseech you a thousand times over, dismount, and
take a drink from my cup."

Rosamunda's resistance wore away a touch.
"If I do dismount and drink from your cup, what will you do for me?
After all, I don't choose to be your maid."

The day was warm, the sun scorching the
hilltop, and Svana knew her maid must be thirsty once more. "I will
let you drink from my golden cup afterwards. You may fill it with
spring water as many times as you wish, if only you will do me this
one kind favor."

"It's not a great offer." Rosamunda
considered, "But what the hell? Not much else to do up here."

After dismounting from their horses, the
women tumbled onto the green grass. Giggling, Svana rolled onto her
back while Rosamunda pushed up her many skirts.

"Why, the bush down here is dark as night!
How is that, when your hair is light as gold?" Rosamunda asked.

"I bleach my locks, okay?"
Svana wrapped her legs around Rosamunda's shoulders as the maid
looked up at her inquisitively. "Hey, don't judge me.
You
try being a princess
with mousy brown hair. It just doesn't work. If you're going to be
loved and adored by your subjects, you have to be blonde. Gentlemen
prefer it."

"All right! Don't have a stroke." Rosamunda
obviously hadn't anticipated an ambush in the bush. "I will do as
you wish."

And so, no stranger to country ways, the
maid-in-waiting nuzzled the Svana's tumescent clit with her wide
nose, pressing against it as she licked Svana's hole. Her gaping
cunt growled, heavy with hunger as she giggled in delight, tossing
and turning in the grass. Every so often, she leaned forward to
watch. The waiting-made was not attractive in any conventional
sense, but her hard, mannish face had its own allure.

Rosamunda set her tongue flat and firm
against Svana’s cunt, and licked the juicy folds like a hungry
beast. What refreshment the maid must find in those tangy waters!
The sweet and heavy smell of her sopping pussy made Svana’s senses
soar. Was there anything better in all the world than being
consumed by a bold and hearty woman who was not bound by decency,
rank and propriety?

When Rosamunda thrust two fingers into
Svana’s ready hole, she reveled in the sensation. She was a lucky
princess indeed to have a waiting-maid with such stupendously large
digits. Svana dug into her corset of red and gold in search of hard
nipples to squeeze. Her buds were rosy even as she secured them.
When she brought them out into the sunshine and pressed them
between her fingers and thumbs, a bolt like lightning assaulted her
body. Her pussy rang like a church bell around Rosamunda's fingers,
compressing their mass and increasing the beautiful friction within
her wet channel.