Cinderella: An Erotic Fairy Tale Ch. 04

Soon they were galloping for the uncertain protection of the dreaded Dragon Ribbontongue.

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The border, when approached, was obvious - open grasslands on their side ran up to an imposing stone wall running as far as they could see. Behind rose an ominous forest. To the east they could see the towers of the Great Gate. They rode in that direction, and presently they were close enough to be hailed by an ugly figure squatting on the parapet above.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"Princess Rose and her companions!" She dramatically threw back her hood, unaware that her shock of blonde hair was now a frightening tangle. Violet and Daisy looked at her in surprise - more in regard to the princess thing, which was news to them, than the scary hair.

"Fair enough. Are those others with you?" The Gate Keeper pointed beyond them with what looked like a stiff grey wing.

Rose looked back to see a cloud of dust in the middle distance - horsemen. "Ah. No. No, they are most definitely not with us."

"Thought not. Better come in then, quick like."

A small studded door in the massive gate swung open, and a wizened old man peered out. "Welcome to Dryadia."

They led their horses through the opening into an empty courtyard, and the old man then carefully barred the door behind them.

"Just you six, then?" He seemed to be addressing Rose's horse. The creature snorted and whickered. "Oh. He says you're running this show." He appeared to be about to ask another question of either her or the horse, when they were interrupted by a row outside.

"Send the wenches out!"

"Why?" they heard the Gate Keeper ask.

"They are to be sacrifices for ..." It suddenly struck the owner of the loud voice - presumably the officer in charge of their capture - that since the girls were now in the custody of the Dragon, there was a certain lack of logic in what he was about to say. Instead he bellowed, "It is the will of the Tyrant!"

"Fuck off."

The next sound they heard was a muffled order, and then the twang of many bows. This was followed quickly by the thwack of iron barbs on stone and on the great door itself, plus the appearance of half a dozen arrows that had been shot clean over the gate and across the courtyard.

"I said fuck off, you wankers." This was followed by what sounded distinctly like a huge fart.

The result was a chorus of muffled curses and coughing.

"I think," said the old man, "that you'll be wanting to see the Boss."

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Their escort, like the doorman if not the gatekeeper, seemed normal enough for a certified Faerie Land. Refreshing, even - he was a handsome young man dressed in a sort of toga affair that failed to completely conceal his more than adequate manhood. He and his huge dogs (they had not yet been properly introduced to the psychic werewolves) led them on their mounts through meadow and forest, along a wide but twisted pathway that seemed to be paved with yellow brick.

They were eventually rewarded with a view of a quaint village dominated by a great oaken building, bigger even than most of the temples back home. The villagers themselves more than met their expectations of the citizens of such a place. There were dwarves and elves, certainly; and they recognized a passing satyr - his furry bottom half looked just like in the story books (and Rose had seen a painting in the castle that included his prodigious wang).

Even the unicorn was familiar enough, although the black rubber miniskirt and bustiere worn by the maiden riding him suggested that virginity was not necessarily a prerequisite for charming these beasts.

But then there was the woman who seemed to be made entirely of water. They agreed that they had possibly been misinformed as to the construction (or complexion) of water nymphs. And the short furred, long-tailed fox-girl who rubbed on Violet's thigh and asked her if she'd ever had a proper tongue lashing had definitely never made an appearance in the fairy tales. Since they were on their way to the Dragon, Violet answered with a wink that said, 'I'll see you as soon as I can'.

And then there were the flying creatures. Faeries large and small flitted about, mingled with multicolored birds of all descriptions. There were also the cocks - and not of the sort that Daisy remembered having chased the hens back on the farm.

"How cute," said Rose, but then she cursed all the same when one squeezed its testicles and spurted onto her head.

Their guide just said, "Folks around here say that fascinum cum is lucky."

Easy for you to say, thought the princess, glaring at the fluttering phallus as she wiped a drizzle of jism off her cheek.

"We're nearly there," the guide added. After a quick discussion with their horses, he had the girls dismount and remove the bridles. "I told them his Lordship has granted them leave to stay." Then he led the remainder of his party out of the trees and up the steps to what he grandly announced, as he flung open the doors, as "the Great Hall of The Pyrotechnical Lord Richard Ribbontongue of the Enchanting Forest of Dryadia".

There was a pause as they gazed at the ten-foot tall green dragon within. It was more human in shape than they had been led to expect, and slightly smaller - a sort of lizard man. The creature responded to their stares by spreading his huge wings wide, which manoeuvre served to exhibit his humungous cock. This oversized apparatus was fully erect, with bright emerald scales and several interesting kinks along its length.

Lord Richard suddenly unfurled his fabled tongue far enough to pick up a shining droplet from the tip of his cock. All three girls took an involuntary step backward, and he laughed - a huge braying laugh that echoed around the hall.

Folding his wings, he said, "You can call me Dick. And as for my 'Great Hall' - Sir Ramswell has failed to mention that it doubles most nights as a mead hall. So - I gather that you young ladies are my sacrifice?"

"And it's my understanding that my father the King had an agreement!"

Another chuckle. "Oh, yes. Quite so. You're all perfectly safe here. But surely the priests weren't going to sacrifice the princess?"

And so the whole story had to be told from the beginning (minus the naughty bits). They were blissfully unaware that the usual bacchanal and bum's rush were not in their immediate future.