The Empress's New Lingerie and Other Erotic Fairy Tales (3 page)

And then, as Wolf's ravenous mouth had its fill, Red's appetite was satisfied beyond her wildest dreams.

…on a winter's day, a queen sat at her open bedroom window sewing a tapestry on a frame made of black ebony. She accidentally pricked her finger with the needle and three drops of blood fell upon the snow that banked along the window's ledge. The red drops looked so beautiful against the white snow that she said, “I wish I might have a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony.” A year later, her wish came true: The queen gave birth to a daughter with skin as white as snow, cheeks as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony. She named the child Snow White.

But the queen died, and a year later the king took a second wife. This new queen was very beautiful, but she was also very proud and vain; she could not bear to think that anyone was as beautiful as she.

Now, this queen's most prized possession was a magic mirror. Every day she stepped in front of it to look at herself and say, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

And the mirror always replied, “Fair Queen, you are the fairest of them all.”

Sometimes she would use the mirror not only to admire her face, but to inspect and delight in the rest of her body as well—her pointy breasts, her wide hips, the soft down on her belly, and so on. In the privacy of her chambers she would take off all her clothing, place the mirror down on the floor, and then straddle the silvery disk so that she could catch a reflection of her beautiful crimson labia as it bloomed. Again she would ask, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

And again, the mirror would answer, “Fair Queen, you are the fairest of them all.”

Other times, when she didn't feel like being alone to fondle and fawn over her own charms, the queen would invite the king to visit her boudoir. On these occasions she hung the mirror in a special frame above the bed so that when he mounted her she could lie back and watch his pink buttocks pumping in rhythm to her sighs. This sight of the naked backside of the king, as he was reduced from a mighty monarch to a gasping, heaving servant of her desires, never failed to send the queen to the edge. As she crashed against the shores of pleasure she would catch a glance of her own face—twisted, flushed, and bloated with passion but still beautiful to behold—in her beloved mirror above the bed. And in the twilight that followed their lovemaking she would again whisper, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

In a voice that seemed to mimic the breathless, spent murmurs of her royal lover, the mirror answered, “Fair Queen, you are the fairest of them all.”

These words always made the proud queen very happy, for she knew the mirror did not lie. And with her husband sleeping soundly in their post-coital embrace, she thought there could be no end to the satisfaction and happiness her extraordinary beauty would bring.

But time passed, and as her stepdaughter Snow White grew up, the girl became more and more beautiful. One morning when the queen stepped in front of her mirror and asked, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

The mirror replied, “Queen you are very fair, 'tis true, but Snow White is a thousand times fairer than you.”

When the queen heard that she turned pale with rage and envy. From that moment on she could not even think of Snow White without feeling a bitter pang in her heart. Day by day her hatred grew until it gave her no peace.

At last she called her huntsman to her and said, “Take Snow White into the forest, for I never want to see her again.” The huntsman did what he was told, leading Snow White so deep into the woods that he was certain she could not find her way home. The depraved queen assumed the wild beasts would devour her young ward, or that the child would die from starvation in the great, dark, snowy forest. But as Snow White wandered over sharp stones and past thorny brambles, looking for some exit from the thicket, she spied a light shining through the trees. With hope in her heart, she followed its beacon. At last she came upon a tiny cottage. Inside, everything was unusually small and in multiples of seven—seven little plates and cups, seven little spoons and knives, seven little beds all in a row.

The tiny beds were especially inviting to the weary girl, and she lay down on one for a moment's rest. Pretty soon she fell into a heavy slumber.

Later that night, the owners of the cottage came marching in. They were seven dwarves who spent their days digging in the mountains for gold. When they saw Snow White asleep on one of their beds, they didn't know what to do. They had never seen a young woman as beautiful as she, and powerful yearnings began to stir in their seven little cocks.

“We should wake her up, should we not?” one dwarf whispered.

“In a moment,” said their leader, who could not take his eyes off the porcelain maiden in his bed. “First, a kiss. Just one kiss….”

The miniature man climbed up on the pillow next to Snow White's blood-red lips and leaned forward until his own were pressed against them. His mouth was so small next to hers it was as if a young child were kissing a grown-up lady, but there was nothing child-like in his ardor as he slipped his tiny tongue into her mouth.

“Oh!” cried Snow White, frightened awake by the dwarf's stolen kiss. “Where am I? Who are you? What are you doing!?”

But none responded, for by now all seven were stunned into a helpless kind of silence by the force of their sudden urges. All they could do was grunt and sweat and moan with longing, and several of them even drooled as they ogled the lush form that lay before them. She was gigantic from their point of view and as richly arousing as a virgin mountain of untapped ore. The lead dwarf was so overcome with lust that he began to cry like a baby as he fondled his stiff penis beneath his leather britches, and the sight of him suffering touched the heart of the innocent Snow White.

“There, there, don't cry, little man. Are you hurt? Let me see what it is that pains you there between your legs.”

The weeping dwarf pulled out his erect knob and offered it up to Snow White like it was a fish on a hook.

“My goodness! No wonder you are crying. You are so small and this thing is so large and swollen! It must ache terribly,” she murmured. “Here, let me soothe it.”

As she stroked and cuddled the dwarf's now disproportionately large, thick cock the little fellow's pathetic tears turned to guttural groans and sighs of pleasure.

“See? You're feeling some ease already!” the princess noted. “Perhaps I should kiss it to make it better….”

She raised herself on one arm and leaned over ever so close to the dwarf's erection. She had barely grazed the head of the thing with her crimson lips when it reared back like a cannon and shot forth a gush of foamy brine. The discharge ran all into and around Snow White's open mouth, and it tasted like a mixture of fragrant forest pine and the salty black soil of the mines.

“Oh!” cried the shocked girl. Then she swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Well. I guess whatever was in there bothering you had to come out. Do you feel better now?”

The dwarf began to laugh with amusement and relief. “Yes, yes, much better. But my brothers are suffering so!” he pointed out. “Do you think you might help them, as well?”

“Of course,” replied the angel of mercy, who was as generous of spirit as she was beautiful. One by one the remaining members of this band of miniature men stripped down and presented their rigid organs to Snow White to be rubbed and polished and nuzzled and suckled until the surging climax came.

Afterward, with seven flaccid, satiated pricks still wet with the dear girl's spittle, the dwarves lay about in the moonlight and asked Snow White to tell them her story. When she told them of how her stepmother sent her into the forest to die, it was their turn to show their generosity.

“If you'd like, you can stay with us for as long as you want and you shall lack for nothing,” they told her. “We ask only that when we return each night, tired from our labors, you comfort and service us as you have tonight.”

Snow White agreed. And for many days and nights thereafter, she lived quite happily in the tiny dwarf cottage with her seven randy companions. Sometimes they varied their evening ritual so that instead of each one receiving the lady's ministrations individually, they would lay her out upon the bed and en masse climb aboard her long- legged torso for a frantic group grope. One would place his penis in her mouth, another in her vagina, a third in her anus, the fourth and fifth would enter the dark groves of her armpits, and finally the sixth and seventh would violate the folds beneath her breasts. Then, in unison, they would ease themselves in and out of these sacred spaces until they had all satisfied their prodigious lust. All except Snow White, that is, for although she didn't mind these evening romps, she herself never experienced the pleasure of the game.

Meanwhile, back at the castle, the queen returned to her proud, vain ways. She was confident Snow White had long since perished and now she, the stunning queen, was once again the fairest in the land.

But when she queried her magic mirror, the answer came, “Queen you are very fair, 'tis true, but Snow White is a thousand times fairer than you.”

Alarmed and furious, the queen swore she would hunt down Snow White and kill her herself. She discovered that the girl was residing at the home of the seven dwarves and was alone all day while the little men went to work. So the queen prepared a poison apple that looked so fresh and rosy whoever saw it could not help but crave a bite. Then she dressed herself as an old peddler woman and set out with a basket of wares—including the tainted apple—to pay a visit to the tiny cottage.

When she arrived, she knocked on the door and called out, “Lovely things for sale, lovely things for sale!”

Snow White invited the peddler in.

“I've many wonderful treasures to offer,” the old lady croaked, “but none are as delectable as this juicy red apple!”

Snow White had to agree, and she immediately purchased the cursed fruit with a nugget of gold. But no sooner had she taken the first bite than she fell to the ground, apparently dead.