Snow White

"I'm so glad!" she said, cutting him off. It was a warm, pleasant day, despite the deep shadow in which they sat. "Let me show you more!"

She pulled the dress entirely off her body and lay it on the blanket. Snow White's pale, nude body lay exposed to the huntsman.

"Good God," he said. "What a woman."

"Do you like my breasts?" she asked. "You can touch them."

The huntsman drew closer and leaned over. He touched a long, scarred finger to her nipple. He cupped a hand over her breast. His hands were rough on her much paler, gentler skin, but his touch felt good, and she shivered.

"Can you show me?"

"What, Princess?"

"Your staff. Your cock. Can you show me your cock?

He paused for a long time.

"I reckon so. It doesn't matter now."

He fumbled with his breeches and pulled his cock out of them. Snow White gasped. It was even longer, and significantly thicker, than the prince's cock. It was so thick that she wondered if it would even fit inside her. She knew she shouldn't think such things, because of what the queen had said. But she couldn't help it.

"That looks like a very big cock," she said. "Of course, I don't have much to compare it with. I've only seen one another, and this one is bigger than that one."

"Bigger than a prince's cock," said the huntsman. "Huh. I like that." A grim smile played over his face.

"Would you like to touch it?" he asked her.

"Oh yes, very much," Snow White said, grinning widely.

He drew closer until his cock was inches from her face. It was nearly fully erect. Snow White touched its tip, which to her eye was like a helmet. A bead of fluid appeared at the tip.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That's pre-cum, Princess," he said.

"What's pre-cum?"

"You really don't know much, do you, your highness?" he asked. "When a man fucks a woman, he squirts his cum inside her. Sometimes pre-cum gathers at the tip of his cock at the beginning, when he's excited."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm learning so much. Are you excited?"

"Yes, your highness," he said. "I want to fuck you, badly. Obviously."

"I'm glad you want to fuck me," she said. "I think I'd like that, too, but I don't know if your . . . cock . . . would fit in my cunt. It's so thick."

"Won't know unless we try, Princess." Even Snow White saw the wolfish hunger in his face.

"I sure would like to try," she replied. "But the queen said I shouldn't."

"We don't have to tell her," he said.

"You're right. You wouldn't tell her? But then we wouldn't be telling the truth. I've never concealed anything from the queen before."

The huntsman knew that, given his orders, the queen probably didn't give a damn if he fucked Snow White or not. But he wasn't going to tell that to Snow White.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," he said. "What's it going to be, Princess. I say, 'Let's fuck.'"

"OK," she said. "If you don't tell the queen. I want it so much. It can't hurt anything." She was fascinated to see the dollop of pre-cum grow on the huntsman's cock. She spread her legs wide again for him.

"Here's my flower. Please fill it with your staff."

"Flip over, your highness," he said.

"What?"

"On your hands and knees, facing the other way. It's another way to do it. I want to fuck you like that."

"Oh!" All this fucking information was so new and confusing. But the huntsman seemed to know what he was doing, so she flipped over, got on her hands and knees, and turned around, with the pale moon of her ass turned toward the huntsman.

Rough hands grabbed her at the hips, and the thick cock stabbed at her between her checks. Snow White turned the forward part of her body as much as she could to see what he was doing. With one hand he was guiding the huge cock to her opening. She felt it between her lips, and it pushed forward. The sensation was far different from her brief episode with the prince. The huntsman's thick pole stretched her petals wide, almost to the point of discomfort. But not quite. It was delicious in its own way to feel herself stuffed and filled so much.

The huntsman pushed more, and the cock moved inexorably forward, inch by inch. She would not have thought such a thing was possible. At last, he was in all the way. She felt his pubic bone strike her ass.

Then the huntsman began stroking, slowly at first, then at a trot, and, finally, at a full rip-roaring gallop. Snow White gasped and squealed every time the big cock thrust inside her. She had never been ridden. It was not easy. But it was glorious.

"I'm going to come soon, Princess," the huntsman struggled to say between his thrusts. I'm going to pull out right before I come. When I do, I want you to turn over immediately, on your back, and watch."

"OK!" she squeaked back. She felt, to be honest, that she had no choice. The huntsman was so big and strong that he could do anything to her. He could flip her over easily if he wished. She liked his control--liked being under his control.

She came before he did, feeling that now-familiar rise and surge and the shattering spasm that rocked her whole body. She would have collapsed but for the strong hands holding her up. Not three strokes after she came the huntsman shouted "Now!" and pulled out, and Snow White flipped over, on her back, legs thrown wide, and stared up at the huntsman with an expression of strange, almost animal madness ablaze on his face. His hand stroked his cock.

Snow White's eyes grew wide with amazement at the thick white geyser of cum that erupted from the end of the huntsman's cock. White goo fanned out through the air and landed on her pussy, her thighs, her abdomen, and even her breasts.

She touched a stream of it on her tummy, and when she pulled her finger away a ropy thread of it stretched between finger and belly.

"What . . . what is it?" she asked.

"It's cum, Princess. That's what comes out of a man's cock when he fucks a woman."

"My goodness. It's so thick. And there's so much of it!"

"Taste it, Princess."

"Oh, I would not have thought of that!"

Snow White scooped up a tablespoon of it with one palm, and she raised her hand to her face. She licked the milky jism off her palm in two laps of her tongue.

It wasn't a bad taste--just unfamiliar, like everything else about fucking in the last two days.

"Cum," she said to herself. "Hmmm. I like it."

She ate more, scooping it off her sticky and sweaty body.

When she next looked up, at the huntsman, he stood over her, with his cock inside his breeches. He looked sad. He held a knife in his right hand.

"Why are you carrying the knife?" she asked. She didn't move--just sat, legs open, her body still covered in cum, unself-conscious about her exposure before the huntsman.

"I'm sorry, Princess," the huntsman said. His face looked sad and grave. "I have orders from the queen."

"Orders?" Snow White asked. "What orders?"

"The queen wants me to kill you. I've been ordered to kill you, to carve out your heart, and take it back to the queen, along with your dress, as proof that I killed you."

"Kill me?" Snow White cried. For the first time in her life, she felt terror. She was helpless. The huntsman was too big, too strong, and too fast for her to resist. "Why would she want to kill me?"

"She's jealous, Princess," he said. "She is jealous of you. I believe she has always been jealous of you."

"Jealous? Why? I don't understand." Tears came to Snow White's cheeks. She had never experienced jealousy. She could not imagine why someone as powerful and beautiful as the queen would be jealous of her. She shook with fear in front of the huntsman.

He didn't move, other than to raise his knife, slightly, in the air. But he faltered. His hand dropped back to his side. His face fell.

"I can't do it, your highness. You are too lovely and kind. And you are the greatest fuck I've ever had, and I've had many."

Snow White waited.

"What will you do?" she asked him.

"I don't know. I must give the queen proof that you are dead. I suppose I could kill a deer and take its heart. But I must take your dress." He leaned over and picked it up off the blanket. "I must take the blanket, too."

He gestured with his hand, and she walked off the blanket. Cum trickled down her legs.

"Please don't do this," she said, crying.

"I must, Princess. If I don't, the queen will kill me. And she will send more men to track you, find you, and kill you. Your only hope is for me to fool the queen, and for you to flee -- as far away as you can."

"But where will I go? I have no clothing and no food."

"I'll give you this," he said, and he walked to his horse and removed a satchel fixed to the harness. "You can fill it with the food that remains. The queen won't know you have it. Run, that way." He pointed deep into the forest, in the opposite direction from which they had come. "There is a small village on the other side of the forest. You may find food, shelter, and clothing there. But keep running. The queen has spies everywhere, and it will be difficult for you to disguise yourself. Your beauty is renowned throughout the kingdom. Go as far away from this place as you can. Nowhere in the kingdom is safe for you. Perhaps you can make it Speerbergen, though it is many, many leagues from here."

The huntsman looked sadly at her. There was kindness in his gruff face.

"I am sorry, Princess. There is no other way. I will leave you the satchel and slippers. I must take everything else. There is still a lot of light left in the day. I encourage you to start immediately to get to the other side of the forest by nightfall, if you can. Run now. Fast."

"I do not understand any of this!" Snow White cried. "I thank you for saving my life, but I am so distressed and confused by all of this."

"I know," he said. He turned away and tied her horse to his.

"I must take Drift, of course. The queen ordered it. Goodbye and good luck, princess."

The huntsman mounted his stallion, gave it a shake of the reins, and off they went. In no more than half a minute the figures of the huntsman and two horses disappeared into the forest. Snow White stood alone, naked, with nothing but a small satchel with a little food and water and her slippers.

She was afraid. So many jarring new feelings crowded her mind this day. Now she felt fear, as she had never felt it before. But there was nothing she could do. She turned, looking at the path that went deeper into the forest, and as quickly as she could without tiring herself, she strode into the woods.

It was queer being naked. Snow White had not learned to feel shame at nakedness, but she was wise and aware enough to know that people usually were clothed when they were out and about. She knew, too that clothing would keep her warm. The night would be colder, and she would want shelter.

After two hours of brisk hiking, she seemed no closer to a village, or any sign of habitation. The trees grew taller, and the woods grew darker, and it seemed as she walked that their branches grew closer and closer to the path, and that the path became thinner and more winding and less certain.

"I hope I find some place soon! Perhaps someone can show kindness on me and help me."

But she saw no one, despite walking hours more. The sky darkened. Twilight drew near. She heard and saw few birds, and fewer animals. When she did see them, they did not approach her. They slunk furtively among the trunks of the trees, whose shapes grew more twisted and fantastic as she plunged forward.

She stopped for a few minutes to eat food and drink water. When she looked up, she did not see the path ahead of her. When she looked down, she did not see it beneath her.

Somehow, without looking, she had left the path. She was lost. It was difficult to tell which direction was which, especially as it was darker. There was still enough light in the sky that she could tell, more or less, which way to go, but surely, she would be unable to do so at night.

"This is terrible!" she cried.

Her voice seemed thin and weak among the heavy and foreboding silence of the forest.

She plunged on, as fast as she could, hoping to find the village, or any habitation, before it became fully dark. Branches scraped and scratched the pale skin on her naked body as she walked. It was no use. Night fell at least. She could not make out the stars under the dense tree cover. There was no way to orient herself. She was lost, naked, directionless, with a dwindling supply of food and no water left.

"Help!" she called out to the forest. No one answered.

She had to try, so she kept going, running now, heedless of direction, exhausted from fear. She must have hiked miles and miles by now, but she had no idea where she was or where she was going.

The night grew darker, and from time to time she heard things in the dark scurrying around. Snow White had never felt fear of animals, but she knew there were some animals in the woods that were dangerous, such as bears and wolves and night cats, and she had no weapons of any kind.

The density of the forest slowed her way, but she pressed forward, until she neared total exhaustion.

She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her when she saw a pale light, ahead and to the left, shine through the tangle of branches. She ran toward it. The forest gave way and she found herself in a clearing. A cottage house stood in the middle. It was a queer house, with two stories but an unusually low, multi-gabled roof. A whispy thread of smoke came from one of several chimneys. Two other buildings stood a short distance from it. One looked like a barn. With her last sliver of energy left, Snow White stumbled to it.

Inside the barn was a long skinny floor with stalls with animals on either side--pigs, cows, sheep, and unusually small ponies. At the far end was a thick, high pile of straw. As a bed, it would do. A large shaggy black and white dog stood in her way, but when she looked into its eyes it stood to the side. Snow White staggered to the straw pile, buried herself in it, and fell fast asleep.

* * * *

It seemed to Biggie, as he finished his cup of coffee and the last strip of bacon and walked out the door of the house, that the work never ended. It struck him that work for him, in particular, as opposed to the others, was especially endless. He supposed it was because he was bigger than the others---not big by normal human standards, but bigger than the others. The price of being bigger and stronger was being tasked with more work.

He headed toward the barn, carrying a large pail of slops. None of the others could carry the pail, fully loaded, without the aid of the cart. Biggie needed no cart. Sunrise was coming. It was time to feed the hogs.

Biggie liked the hogs best. They were the smartest of the animals in the barn, and they had the most personality. The hogs, in turn, loved Biggie. They squealed and snorted with delight whenever he brought them slops.

He entered the barn. The hogs, in the pens nearest the door on the right, oinked at the sight of Biggie and his pail. Breakfast was coming, and they were excited.

Pirgo, the mongrel dog Biggie had adopted to watch the barn, ran to Biggie. He seemed unusually excited. Biggie poured the slops into the hogs' troughs, but Pirgo kept bumping him with his nose.

"What is it, boy?" Biggie asked as he finished pouring the slops. Pirgo kept circling Biggie and acting like he wanted Biggie to enter farther into the barn. Pirgo wanted to show him something. Biggie followed Pirgo farther into the barn, until they reached the straw pile. Pirgo nosed the straw. Some of it fell away.

Biggie saw the young woman, fast asleep, lying in the straw. He could tell she was naked. Pirgo's nosing had caused the straw to fall away from her breast.

She was a full-sized human woman, not a dwarf. That much was obvious, although she was not tall for a human. Her face, in slumber, was exquisitely beautiful. Her skin was like porcelain. A bare leg, lying above the stray, though perfectly formed, was full of scratch marks.

Biggie ran back to the house.

Not two minutes later, seven dwarves ran into the barn. Well, six ran, and the oldest and last, Doc, bespectacled and white-haired, walked quickly, bringing up the rear, carrying a thick wool blanket. The dwarves clustered around the young woman, talking quietly among themselves about who she might be and why she was in their barn. Doc lay the blanket over her body.

It had been a long time since any of the dwarves had seen a female. Dwarf women were rare, hard to find, and even harder to keep. Dwarf men were famously bad husbands, for they were usually selfish, and obsessed with their work, and terribly uncouth in their habits. Two of the seven dwarves, Doc and Quickie, had had wives once, but that had been many years ago. For two decades the dwarves had lived in their cottage in the woods, mining and tending to their crafts, far apart from other people.

It was a miracle to see a beautiful human woman asleep in their barn in the hay.

"She looks like she's been through an ordeal," said Doc, the brains and organizer of the bunch. "Biggie and Gently, find something flat we can carry her on, and let's take her to the house. We'll lay her in the guest bed and tend to her until she comes to."

Biggie grumbled a bit at, once again, being given a job to do, but he complied. They found a wooden door that Sleazy had been working on recently to replace a beetle-infested one in the workshop. Doc supervised, ensuring that her modesty was preserved under the blanket as they picked her up and lay her on the door. After they laid her in the bed inside the house, Doc shushed everyone away and opened up his black bag. He hadn't practiced much as a doctor for many years, since dwarves rarely got sick, but he knew what to do. He tucked her under the covers of the bed. He felt her pulse and the temperature on her forehead. He poured two teaspoonsful of a reliable elixir into her mouth. He pulled up a chair, and he watched and waited.

It was Sunday, and the dwarves had the day off. Otherwise, they would be at the mine. But today, Doc could sit inside the room with the lovely young woman, tending to and watching over her, and the other dwarves could sit outside, waiting for news, drinking ale and breaking off huge pieces from their loaves of bread.

Doc had begun nodding off, when the young woman woke at last.

* * * *

Snow White awoke, slowly. The view was fuzzy at first. When her eyes focused, and she began to recall what had happened to her, she was startled to realize she was not in the barn. She was in a house, in a bed. The appearance of the room around her was strange. It seemed . . . small and cramped. The bed in which she lay was small, too. Her feet hung over the end of it.

She turned to her right, and a small old man sat next to her. A very small man. He was a dwarf. She had heard about dwarves, but she had never met one. He had a long white beard, with flecks of gray. He was shorter than any man she had seen. He looked ancient, older than any man she had ever seen, with many bags and wrinkles around his eyes, but the eyes themselves sparkled with youth and life. He looked vigorous and healthy, too. He looked at her with a kind expression, small metal-framed eyeglasses perched over a bulbous nose.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "We found you in the barn and brought you here, to keep you warm and safe."

Snow White had no idea what to say. The events of the last few days had left her in a state of constant surprise. She felt it now. She took a minute to gather her wits before speaking.

"Where am I?"

"You are in my home," said the dwarf. "Well, actually, our home. There are seven of us. We live here, and we work in the mine nearby. My name is . . . well, you don't need to know it. It's long and hard to pronounce. But I go by 'Doc.'"