A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time in a far-off kingdom there lived a princess whose face was as fair as a flower, whose locks were as bright as gold, and whose form was as full and juicy as the ripest peach. Many claimed Princess Rose was the most beautiful woman alive, and fame of her extreme loveliness spread far and wide, even reaching the ears of the powerful sorcerer Dominick who lived in the dark woods beyond the borders of the kingdom.

The tale goes that, having learned of the great beauty of the princess, the sorcerer conjured a whirlwind which descended out of the sky and snatched the princess up with it to carry her off to his home.

Now it was the case that none of the king's soldiers were willing to even enter the forest in which the sorcerer's tower lay, out of fear of his magic and of the monsters said to guard the place. So the king had it proclaimed far and wide that any knight brave enough to enter the fell woods and return with Princess Rose would have her hand in marriage along with half the kingdom as his reward.

Ere long, dozens of knights had set out to rescue the princess. But only one would ever return.

*****

Sir Cassidore, a yet-beardless youth who had only recently earned his spurs as a knight, lived in a small, poor barony far from the king's castle. He thus did not learn of the plight of the princess until long after the abduction, by which time news of the failure of many older and more famous knights to achieve a rescue was part of the story. Cassidore did not let this deter him for an instant. As soon as he heard the tale he set out to free Princess Rose from vile captivity. Taking only his trusty sword, bright armor, and a bag of provisions, he mounted his horse and rode off for the woods in which the sorcerer dwelled.

Because of the evil reputation of the woods few lived near-by, which meant that when Cassidore's horse threw a shoe and went lame he had to turn it loose at the edge of the trees and proceed on foot. Furthermore the forest path was ill-marked and difficult, and with his heavy armor and load of provisions Cassidore made only slow progress. The first day he had not gone very far at all into the thick forest before night overtook him and he had to stop and make camp.

As Cassidore prepared his evening meal he heard faint weeping from the distance. Having vowed to protect the weak, the fair knight did not hesitate to take up his sword and set forth into the darkness between the trees, heading for the sound.

After a time Cassidore came to a clearing where an old woman in shabby clothing was sitting on a stone beside a small fire, rocking and wailing loudly. Walking boldly forward he saw she was alone and addressed her. "What is the matter, grandmother?"

"What is the matter? I have nothing but these for food!" she cried.

Cassidore looked where she pointed and saw a pile of potatoes. "But at least you have these, and therefore will not starve," he suggested.

"Oh, is that so? And do you eat raw potato as your sole food?" she chided.

"I must admit I do not," Cassidore replied.

"Of course not, because it would cause you to waste away to nothing," the old woman replied. "Without cooking, potatoes cause the dwindles."

Cassidore could not deny this, never having tried to subsist solely on potatoes cooked or raw. Not having been taught to cook like his sisters had been, he also was unaware that potatoes could be roasted on the ashes of a fire relatively easily. "I could go back to my camp and bring some of my food to share with you," he suggested.

"That might feed me for a day, but not forever. What I need is something to cook these in," she returned mournfully. "But perhaps you might help me."

"I am afraid I have nary a pot nor pan with me," Cassidore said.

"You have a metal helmet that with a little work could make an excellent soup pot," the old woman observed shrewdly. "And the breastplate you wear would serve me as a grill for roasting and baking."

"I suppose that is true, but their primary purpose is to protect me when I engage in battle," Cassidore answered.

The crone began to wail again. "You do not care that I will starve!"

Cassidore felt a strong pang of guilt. "Nay, grandmother, do not weep. I will give you my armor."

The young knight removed his helm and unbuckled his breastplate, handing them to the pleased old woman. Then he sighed. "While as a knight I am sworn to support the poor and meek, I can't help but think I will regret this."

The crone patted his hand. "Do not fear for the future, young man. I have a gift in return for your kindness."

She removed a plain silver ring from a fold of her clothing and handed it to him. "Trolls guard the path to the castle of the wizard Dominick. One of them is stronger than any man, and so proud of his own strength that he will always accept a challenge to an exchange of blows. But the wearer of this magic ring will not feel pain, nor will his skin by torn by any blow no matter how violent."

"Why, this is wonderful!" exclaimed Cassidore. "Wearing this ring I will be invulnerable."

The crone looked at him askance. "Don't be an idiot. Just because a blow can't cause you pain or break your skin doesn't mean it can't crush your bones. If your skull gets caved in you'll be a corpse. A quite pretty one, but a corpse none the less."

Cassidore blinked. "Oh, I see. I didn't think about that."

The old woman cackled. "Don't worry about it, sonny. With looks like yours, brains aren't all that important. All right, off you go. Thanks for the cookware."

Cassidore turned around and started back toward his camp. He had gone only a few step when he started to wonder how the old woman knew so much about the trolls guarding the way. But when he turned to ask, the crone, the cookfire, the pile of potatoes, and his armor had all vanished.

*****

In the morning Cassidore resumed his trek along the path that led to the sorcerer's castle. Without his armor to slow him he found that he made better progress, but as night fell he was still a long way from his goal. Once again he made camp.

After making a meal from the provisions in his bag he once again heard weeping, but this time while it was faint at first it steadily grew louder, making it clear that the weeper was coming toward him. Cassidore loosened his sword in his scabbard and awaited the advent of whatever approached.

A short time later a crying child in an ill-fitting peasant smock walked into Cassidore's camp. Cassidore felt his heart swell with pity. "What is wrong, little one?"

"My parents are dead, and following their last instruction I must travel to the house of my aunt who will foster me," the child said. "I have had nothing to eat for days and I starve."

"I have food," Cassidore offered. "Come and eat."

He opened his bag of provisions and offered the child bread and cheese. These disappeared rapidly, followed by more bread and a large sausage. Considering the rate at which the food was devoured Cassidore felt that the child must indeed have been starving.

"You are kind, sir knight," the child said when the chewing and swallowing stopped. Then the sniveling resumed. "You have saved me for now, but there are days and days more before I reach my aunt's house. Certainly I will starve to death before I reach her if you do not give me food for the journey, for few people are as kind as you."

"From seeing the amount you eat in one meal, to provide you with enough food for your journey I would have to give you the rest of my provisions, in which case I will have no food for myself during the rest of my trip," Cassidore said doubtfully.

"I have walked through the woods on my way to my aunt's, and you are no more than a day or two from the wizard's tower," the child said.

Cassidore sighed and handed the bag of provisions to the child. "I suppose it will not harm me to go hungry for a pair of days."

The whelp grinned. "You are truly generous. And I will be generous in return." Out of a pocket in the grimy smock came a black leather collar studded with silver and fastened with a silver buckle.

"What is this?" Cassidore asked.

"There is a troll who guards the way to the wizard's castle. He is greatly suspicious and will never voluntarily allow a stranger to pass his gate under any circumstances. But whosoever wears this collar must obey any order given to him," the child averred.

"Why, that will make it easy to make him agree to let me pass," Cassidore exclaimed, examining the magical trinket closely. Then he bent his brows in puzzlement. "But how will I convince the troll to put it on?"

When no answer came the knight looked up to see that the child had disappeared, along with Cassidore's bag of provisions.

*****

When the sun rose the next morning Cassidore resumed the trail through the woods. Burdened by neither armor nor provisions he found he was able to walk quite rapidly, and when he reached a hilltop clearing that afternoon he could see the top of a tall, grey tower rising up above the trees off in the distance. But as the road descended down the hill it began to twist and loop, and once again night fell before he had reached his destination.

Cassidore considered pressing onward despite the darkness, as hunger was growing in him and he did not know if he could sleep even if he stopped. At that moment he heard a voice shouting and crying for help. Without hesitation he drew his sword and ran toward the cries.

What he found was a raggedly-dressed old man being chased around and around a small cookfire by a snarling dog. The dog was not especially large, but the old fellow seemed terrified of its growling and snapping teeth and did not pause in his circling flight or in his wails for aid.

As soon as Cassidore understood what was happening he stepped into the dog's path and waved his sword while yelling, "Get you gone, cur."

The dog took one look at the knight's uplifted blade, yelped in dismay, and ran off into the surrounding trees. The old man came to a stop, panting.

Cassidore sheathed his sword. "There, goodman, the dog will bother you no more."

"Wrong, sonny," the old man wheezed, still catching his breath. "It always comes around once it smells my supper is done cooking and I'm about to eat. Then the little bastard chases me away and eats my food!"

"Perhaps if you had a stick or a stone ready, you might scare it away," Cassidore suggested.

The old man shook his head. "Not a chance, that mutt doesn't scare so easily. In fact the only thing I've ever seen bother it is that sword of yours."

Before Cassidore could reply, the old man snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's the ticket! Buddy, you got to give me that sword."

"I suppose it's not obvious since I'm no longer wearing my shining armor, but I happen to be a knight. And a knight without a sword is not much of a knight," Cassidore said. "To rescue the princess I'll need to defeat the trolls and the sorcerer, and for that I suspect I will need my sword."

"C'mon, be a mensch! I need the sword worse that you do, otherwise that dog will starve me to death," the old man insisted. "Besides, do you really think you're going to beat three trolls and a wizard with a plain old hunk of iron? Give me a break! And don't think you can just sneak past. The first troll is a maven of eyesight, that schmuck can see everything."

"How do you know that? And how do you know there are three trolls?" Cassidore wondered aloud.

The old man rolled his eyes. "Isn't this a fairy tale? When something comes in sets it's always either three or seven, except once in a while maybe when it's ten or twelve. But I'd say three is standard issue. Anyway, the way this works is that you give me the sword and I'll give you something that will help you get past one of the trolls. I know you're not that bright, but I would've thought even you would have figured it out by now!"

Cassidore had a hard time following the old man's reasoning (not the mention the strange words that salted his language) but understood the basic gist. "All right, grandfather, here is my sword."

"And here's what you get in return, wear it in good health," the graybeard cackled, handing Cassidore a flat box made of some stiff yet flimsy material. Cassidore opened it and found a number of strange pieces of lacy silk fabric in red and black, so oddly shaped that it was a long moment before he recognized them as thin garments of some sort.

"Go ahead, take off your clothes and put them on," the old man directed. "They won't do you any good still in the wrapper. They're top quality, Victoria's Secret."

Cassidore wondered who Victoria was and why these pieces of cloth were her secret, but assumed it must be part of the magic. However he was too ashamed to undress in front of another man and stepped behind a large tree to do it.

"Spoilsport," the old man grumbled.

With the aid of a colored portrait he found in the package of a young lady (Victoria?) wearing a similar garment, Cassidore dressed himself in the odd clothing which consisted of a long tight waistcoat or vest, an extremely scanty set of drawers with a rear that fit snuggly up between his bottom cheeks, and a pair of long mesh stockings that clipped to two sets of stretchy straps hanging down from the vest.

"So, what exactly does this magical garment do?" he called out when he was finished.

The old man barked out a laugh. "Who said it was magical?"

Irritated, Cassidore poked his head around the tree trunk, only to find that the man had disappeared, along with Cassidore's sword. The cookfire was still there, though, along with the pot dangling over it. Cassidore put his normal clothes over his newly-acquired undergarments and cautiously approached.

The pot, which looked quite a bit like it was once a helmet but had been pounded into a very different shape, turned out to contain potato soup. So Cassidore ate it for his supper.

*****

The next morning Cassidore rose and resumed his travels. His new undergarments made him walk a little funny at first, but he got used to them sooner than he expected.

In about an hour he found himself coming to a hut beside the trail. Knowing himself to be unarmed, Cassidore decided that despite what the old man had told him last night it was best to try and bypass the hut and its occupant. He left the trail and began creeping through the woods on the other side.

"Not so fast, I see you," a gravelly voice announced when he passed the hut. Knowing that he was caught Cassidore stood upright and saw that a seven-foot-tall green-skinned troll was glaring at him from the door of the hut, hefting a massive club.

"In fact, I saw you coming a mile away," the troll continued. "Nobody sneaks by me, no sir. I've got eyes like a hawk, I do, I can see through any sort of deception. Now get your ass over here or I'll clobber you!"

Not knowing what else to do, Cassidore walked out onto the open trail before the troll. The troll began eyeing Cassidore from head to toe. In fact it seemed to the young knight as though the troll was leering at him, which made Cassidore feel quite uncomfortable.

"Oh ho, so that's the game, is it, girlie?" the troll chortled. "Sneaking around dressed up like a boy. Got tired of deflecting passes from men, is that it?"

"What?" Cassidore squeaked.

"Shut up, bitch, I can see what you're wearing under the knight costume. Get those male clothes off, now," the troll insisted aggressively, waving the club.

Swallowing, Cassidore did as the troll demanded, stripping off his tunic, riding breeches and boots until he was clad only in the Secret of Victoria. The troll made lip-smacking noises, lewd comments and during the last stages drooled with lust at he watched Cassidore undress. Cassidore felt terribly ashamed, but at the same time oddly pleased and excited by the troll's reaction.

"Okay, sweet stuff, now let's... hey, wait a minute!" the troll interrupted himself, his big red eyes widening. "Fuck me, you've got a dick in those panties! What are you trying to pull on me, you goddamn faggot?"

"Truly, sir, I don't understand..." Cassidore began, but the troll didn't let him finish.

"Get the fuck out of here, you fucking sissy," the monster bellowed. "I mean it, scram!"

Cassidore stooped to take his clothes from the ground, but was stopped by another yell from the troll. "Oh no, you're not fooling anyone else with that! You want to go prancing around in lingerie then you'll do it openly so everyone can see what you are, nancy-pants. Serves you right, and I hope that perfect pale bum of yours gets a nasty sunburn, too! Now, GET MOVING!"

Not feeling like he should argue with a troll waving a club, Cassidore began walking away in the only direction possible, down the trail toward the sorcerer's tower. Behind him the creature continued to curse aloud.

"Fucking goddamn cocksucker, trying to come on to a straight guy like me," the troll grumbled before Cassidore passed out of sight around a curve in the path. "Though I got to say, with an ass like that on him it's almost a shame not to go gay."

*****

An hour later Cassidore found himself approaching another hut alongside the trail. After his experience at the last hut he decided the best course was a bold approach. Though he had to admit he felt more bashful than bold, being unarmed and wearing nothing but scanty silk garments.

As he neared the hut an eight-foot-tall troll leapt out of the doorway waving a huge oaken club. "Nobody gets past me without a fight!"

Cassidore swallowed hard, then remembered what the old woman he'd met the first night had said. The old man's gift had gotten him past the first troll, after all. "I challenge you to an exchange of blows, with the loser being the first to cry out in pain."

The troll lowered his club, staring at the lingerie-clad youth in front of him, then began to laugh. "Oh, man, that's a good one! And the way you're dressed just puts the cherry on top. Who put you up to this, kid? That joker Rotbug, am I right?"

"I am completely serious," Cassidore said loudly, the effect being spoiled when his voice broke and rose high in the middle.

The troll laughed louder and sat down on a large stone by the trail. "C'mon, pull the other one, it's got bells on. Run along, sonny, I don't got time to play with you today."

Shrugging, Cassidore resumed walking along the trail, only to be stopped by the troll extending his club across it.

"Hold on, where do you think you're going?" the troll growled.

"Either accept the challenge or let me pass," Cassidore insisted. "Or are you afraid I'll beat you?"

The troll's eyes went narrow. "Nobody talks to me that way, asshole. Take it back or you'll regret it."

"No!" Cassidore shouted.

"Right, then," the troll growled. He dropped his club, grabbed Cassidore and swung the youth bodily over his lap.

"What are you doing?" Cassidore squeaked.

"Teaching you a well-deserved lesson," the troll said.

"But I challenged you," the knight yelped.

"And I'm giving you a break, bitch. If we fought I'd kill you," the troll replied. "But I don't enjoy murdering the innocent, or the incurably stupid for that matter. So instead I'm just gonna give you a spanking."

The troll brought his wide, hard hand down on Cassidore's silk-clad bottom in a resounding slap. "Take that."

Cassidore had stiffened in anticipation, but once the blow fell realized it didn't hurt at all. At that point he again remembered the magic ring he was wearing.

"Ha, do your worst," he cried.

The troll just grunted and struck another blow, harder this time. And again and again, causing Cassidore's mostly-bare cheeks to quiver and rebound and eventually flush pink.

None of this gave Cassidore the least bit of discomfort. Or at least, not the sort caused by pain. The young knight did feel rather ashamed when he realized that the heat in his rear along with the rocking motion against the troll's lap caused by the continuing spanking was causing an ardent reaction in his groin area. Cassidore bit his lip and tried to think about other things but it was no use. Before long he was undeniably erect. He began to pant and involuntarily rub himself against the troll's leg.