("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: sleeping.txt (fantasy) Authors name: Lor Oldmann (alasder@planet-save.com) Story title : Sleeping Beauty: Potted Fairy Tales -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Potted Fairy Tales: The Sleeping Beauty by Lor Oldmann (alasder@planet-save.com) *** A further exploration of the sublimated sexual innuendo tucked away in the petty trash of the popular fairy tale. (fantasy) *** The legend of the Sleeping Beauty bears all the hallmarks of a product of the High Middle Ages. In it earliest form it was a modified version of a story used in Le Roman de la Rose of Guillaume Lorris and Jean de Meung, and was almost certainly recited in verse by itinerant minstrels or performed as a drama by wandering players. It may even be the first ever pantomime. By the time of the tradition of courtly (adulterous) love in France, it had simply become a story of dormant love awakened by a kiss. It is remarkable for its ending: '...and they all lived happily ever after!' Which gives the clue to its original content. There is also an element of exclusiveness which was a characteristic of Medieval religion - a happy ending is not for general distribution, but only given to those who are willing to toe the line. Ageing, (synonymous with unhappiness) in the Middle Ages, was thought to be a biblical rather than a purely natural concept; it was a process which originated in Adam biting into that damned apple, and who then used the age-old excuse: 'It was the woman who gave it to me!' In short, it was a direct result of man's original Fall from Grace and his expulsion from Paradise (the Garden of Eden), and if Adam had behaved himself he would be alive today. Perish the thought! For procreation followed the Fall. In the Middle Ages, the story of Adam and Eve was more than myth or allegory; it was taken literally as the starting point of human history. It was thought that, if only we could break free from the inevitability of these biblical concepts, we should be able to retain our youthfulness and live forever (and fuck to our heart's content without consequences too dire to bear thinking about). This is the underlying base of all medieval theology (salvation and the life everlasting) and natural and metaphysical philosophy (lapis philosophicus and the elixir of life). And it is the theme of the fairy tale of the sleeping beauty. And like most fairy tales, the point has been well and truly lost in the retelling. The most reliable version of the fairy tale as we have come to know it is still that contained in 'The Blue Fairy Book' of Andrew Lang first published in 1889, and for those unfortunate souls who are unacquainted with the story there is no better place to rectify the sad omission in their lives. The New York publisher, Dover, has an inexpensive paperback and readable edition. The roots of the tale lie, however, among the other stories told by the wandering goliards who were, for one reason or another, unable to secure a living as parish priests. The most famous collection of the stories and verses of these goliards is the notorious Carmina burana which in turn is best known for Carl Orff's dramatic musical setting of some of the poems. Without exception, all the stories and poems in the collection are bawdy to the point where they become downright obscene. They demonstrate, in most cases, quite extraordinary scholarship and reflect, more effectively than any other contemporary document, the state of mind of the common person in the early Middle Ages when the silly hypocritical convention and formal piety has been scraped away. The message to come over loud and clear is that erotic writing, even child pornography, is no modern phenomenon! The True Story of The Sleeping Princess (Beauty). There was a rapidly ageing king who had no son and heir. More than anything else in the entire world, in his old age, he wanted a child. When the facts of life were explained to him, he married the most beautiful young girl in his kingdom, following the advice of his wise men: if they bleed in the right places and for the right reason they can be legally fucked and breed in due season! (Words of wisdom in those days were always given in some kind of doggerel or rhyme.) When he went through all the motions and still nothing was happening, he began to despair. Well, actually he thought he had made a wrong choice - it couldn't possibly be him - he was a king, after all! He called all his wise men together. But after long consultation the only solution they could come up with was divorce; the purpose of a true marriage is to produce children, and if none were forthcoming the marriage had failed and the husband, provided he was rich and powerful, could set aside the marriage vows and try elsewhere. This saddened the king because he had grown to love his little wife and he thoroughly enjoyed what they did together, especially in bed after dark with the lights out. But if that was the best available advice, he supposed he would have to follow it through - not for his own sake, mind you, but for the future welfare of his kingdom! He was on the point of showing his sweet young wife the way to the exit (or relegating her to the status of concubine) when strange news reached his ears... .from the farthest corner of his kingdom where there was a physician who was making a name for himself with his cures for depression, diarrhoea, piles, anaemia, sore backs, headaches and childlessness. The king was most definitely interested: he was depressed, had diarrhoea and piles, he was quite sure he was anaemic, yes, and had a sore back from carrying the heavy weight of affairs of state, oh, yes, don't mention the headaches - he was a martyr to them all, and housemaid's knee. The king sent for this miracle-worker and asked, nay, commanded him to have a look at his young wife. And the medicine man looked. And he liked what he saw, and told the king that his command was his heart-felt wish, and that he would drop everything and get on the job right away. "Trust me, sweetheart," he told the acquiescent queen, "I'm a doctor!" So the handsome young doctor got to work right away. His immediate diagnosis saw the need for the patient to be locked away in a tower with himself for long spells each day; such a person as a queen could not be examined in public, and this was quite an exceptional case. The young queen stripped was even more beautiful than when she was fully clothed with only her radiant face showing. Her skin was without blemish and soft as the finest velvet, her breasts were still small but perfectly shaped and full with a pink rosebud nipple set in a golden aureole. Her waist was narrow and her hips were exquisitely rounded and her legs tapered from slender thighs to delicate ankles. Her buttocks were plump and the doctor was almost insane with desire. His fingers itched to slip into the gorgeous love lips between her legs. And all the time he gazed his fill, he had a hard-on that would have caused irreparable damage to the sweet young thing were it to be employed without due care and caution. After testing her reflexes and finding them in good working order - she responded with her tongue when he kissed her mouth, her nipples stood out hard and erect when he caressed her breasts, her love juices flowed as he stroked her hairless pussy - he went on to ascertain whether she was capable of achieving orgasm. He slipped one finger into her now wet love channel, then two, and probed and wiggled until her delicately moulded hips began to rise and fall. He then finger-fucked her. She was lost in a wonderland of emotion and pleasure and moaned and groaned her appreciation, and told the young doctor that she had never experienced anything like it in her life before. "And that is just the hors-d'ouvre," he explained. "We shall have that twice a day for the next week or so." The twice daily treatment started at 0900 until 1200 hrs for the first session and from 1400 until 1700 hrs - they had to eat! After which, he brought her off by licking her pussy and demonstrated how she could please the king by sucking him off. It was only when she had a firm grip of the basic techniques that he began fucking her with real intent, twice daily before meals! And all this time, on the doctor's orders, the king was making love to his sweet young wife in the missionary position each night in bed in the darkness after lights out. And such was the success of the young doctor's treatment that the queen had a new spring in her step and a fresh blush on her face and she sang as she danced around the palace. Then, wonder of wonder, and to the great joy of the king and all the courtiers and all the common people in the kingdom, the queen was found to be pregnant and full of it! There was great rejoicing in the land, and the young doctor was paid handsomely and offered the position as resident royal physician on a permanent basis, with special responsibility for the happiness, satisfaction and general well-being of the queen. The king and the physician were present at the birth. The queen produced a baby girl of quite extraordinary beauty, so they called her Beauty. Originality in the Middle Ages was really breath-takingly staggering! And to celebrate the birth, the king threw a great party in the palace ground to which all the neighbouring kings and princes were invited together with all the lords and ladies of his own kingdom. The general populace were fobbed off with a drinking mug, a fake silver napkin ring, a box of candies or holy candles and everyone was perfectly happy. Among the guests invited were the seven fairy queens who each brought the new child her own particular gift: perfect health, high intelligence, purity of motive, sympathy, good humour, generosity, faithfulness. "Wait half a moment!" exclaimed the king. "Were there not eight fairies in my kingdom?" "Indeed there were!" The voice screeched from the traditional puff of sulphur smoke and lightning flash, and there appeared in the midst of the gathering an old hag with a long pointed hat and an ever longer and more pointed nose. "And I bring the princess my own gift. Sleep! Sleep that shall never end. She shall prick her finger on a golden spinning wheel, and in the prick of death she will fall asleep never to waken but sleep for all eternity!" "That illegal!" exclaimed one of the good fairies. "It is also theologically, politically and metaphysically incorrect! And far beyond the parameters clearly defined and delineated for fairies according to the mandate." "Fucking shut it!" declared the evil fairy. "I done it! Illegal or not, it will work!" She gazed around the assembled guests. "You see if it don't!" "Then if you can mess around with eternity and infinity," chirped in another of the good fairies, who had a better grasp of language and formal sentence structure, "so may we! And I say that your sleep of eternity will only last a hundred years or until a handsome prince kisses or otherwise molests the sleeping princess. whichever occurs soonest..." So far so good. Even the dullest bucolic retard can recognise the story as the traditional pantomime version of the fairy tale. But then things begin to take a weird twist. Now don't run away with the wrong idea. The king liked his new daughter well enough. But princesses in the Middle Ages didn't count; they were mere bargaining material in international diplomacy and breeding stock for the fuck-crazy crowned heads of Europe. If a king died without male issue, the kingdom did not automatically become a queendom if he left a daughter; in other words, she did not inherit - her husband did. So marriage was essential for a girl. And that was why the evil fairy's threat went unheeded. Who the fuck cared if the new-born princess got a prick and slept for a hundred years or for all eternity? The king needed a son and kept practising. As did the handsome young doctor. With the inevitable result. Jubilation and great joy throughout the kingdom, for the queen was preggers again, and there was good reason, said the doctor, soothsayers, prophets, and wise men, to believe that this time it may be the REAL THING! And so it was! In due time a prince was born and unprecedented and mind-boggling celebrations were arranged (and Beauty was relegated to complete obscurity and everyone forgot all about her). And as before all the good fairies of the kingdom were invited to the feast, and each gave the new prince her special gift: good looks, good health, and so on. And the prince grew in stature and in grace, the apple of his father's eye, but in the image of the young doctor, a fact that everyone chose to ignore for their health's sake and for sound political reasons. The children kept coming. This young doctor was worth his weight in gold. He even cured the king's housemaid's knee! But by the age of twelve the original little princess had more or less resigned herself to a lonely existence in her own little ivory tower. She learned to spin and weave and knit and sew. Forget all that shit about the king banning all spinning wheels from his kingdom: an edict like that would have spelt economic disaster in the Middle Ages - like making electricity illegal today (or tobacco or alcohol). The princess was even given a golden spinning wheel as a gift from her father at some time or other, probably as a celebratory gift to mark the birth of another son. And again, as happens in these fairy tales with painful inevitability the inevitable did indeed happen. One day, as the princess was spinning away quite merrily in her tower, she pricked her thumb and the blood dripped on to the thread she was spinning. And scarcely were the words "Oh, fuck!" out of her mouth, when she fell asleep there and then at her golden spinning wheel. But not only her. The little dog that played about her feet also fell instantly asleep, and the cat (already sleeping on her bed), and the old maid who sat outside her door and the two guards at the end of the corridor. In a word or two, everyone within the palace precincts, and beyond in the entire kingdom, fell fast asleep. The king slept, and the queen, in the arms of the young doctor, and all the children, the cooks and the maids, the huntsmen and the woodmen, everyone fell into a sleep that would go on for all eternity. The years rolled by, as years are still wont to do. Thorn and briar grew around the palace, weeds and grass took over the gardens and grew through the roads and pathways. Trees sprouted and the whole kingdom became a wood so dense and impenetrable that people outside referred to it as 'The Dark Forest' or 'The Black Forest', and claimed that it was bewitched and that anyone entering it would fall under its horrid spell. And the story of the Sleeping Princess became the stuff of legend. The forest became the natural habitat of man-eating dragons and blood-sucking demons and vampires and other dreadful creatures out of hell who were immune to the soporific effects of the original spell. The Sleeping Princess was, of course, the most beautiful creature who ever lived, people would say, and exceedingly rich, and whoever wakens the princess with a kiss is duty bound to marry her and become the richest man in the world. And not only that: once awakened, the princess can never die and can never grow any older. For the curse of Adam and Eve will have been lifted and the people who dwelt in that kingdom would be able to live happily ever after. Many bold young men who heard the tale ventured forth into the dark and bleak forest in search of this priceless beauty, great wealth and eternal life and youthfulness. Not a single one ever returned to tell of his adventures. Until the day there happened to enter the village tavern nearest the dark, bewitched forest, a dispossessed prince who had become a monk who had been evicted from his monastery for his over-indulgence of other monks and his excesses in sampling the ale and wine made in the monastery for purely medicinal and ritual purposes. Not to mention his over-eating. This jolly fat fellow called for drinks all around, and all those around bought him drink. And by the time he heard the story of the Sleeping Beauty he was well and truly pissed out of his five senses. "I shall venture forth into the Dark Forest," declared this drunken, fat, ugly monk. "I shall find this young princess and waken her with a kiss and thereby save all mankind from the curse of death!" And so he ventured forth. Many and manifold and wonderfully unlikely and marvellous were his adventures with blood-sucking monsters and flesh-eating dragons, and evil spirits disguised as pretty young boys, but the monk was too dedicated to be waylaid - or too blind drunk. After a year and a day he finally arrived at the palace. He cut his way through the briar and the thorns and picked his way over the recumbent bodies. He found his way to the cookhouse to ease his hunger and his thirst, but there was no heat in the fires, the pies were tasteless and the ale was flat. Candles still burned, but they gave out only a cold, thin light. Eventually he found his way to the tower where the Princess lay asleep, past the sleeping sentries and past the old maid lost in eternal slumber and into the presence of Beauty herself. And what he saw made his conclude that the trip had been worthwhile after all. For this was the most perfect piece of female workmanship he had ever seen: golden hair, the face of an angel, breasts that any monk would kill to kiss, a tantalising body shape. And, most important of all - she was vulnerable and available! And never one to examine the teeth of gift horses, he carried the sleeping girl to the bed used by the princess for her afternoon naps now to be put to a more appropriate use. He brushed aside the sleeping cat, undid the girl's bodice and fondled her breasts, then removed the rest of her clothing and without any further ado, spread her legs, mounted her, entered her and went at like a man a-hungered - with, much to his dismay and disappointment, less satisfaction and sensation than he once received in the solitude of his monastic cell from his piss pot. He withdrew and reviewed the situation and scratched his head. As he examined the beautiful naked body lying prostrate beneath him he had to confess total bewilderment. All the bits and pieces were in place and the female form was exquisite, but something was far amiss. He bent over to examine the pussy at point blank range. It was perfect; as a matter of fact he had never seen one more compellingly attractive. He could not stop himself: he kissed those beautiful pussy lips... ...and immediately miracles began to happen. The lips reddened and softened and moistened. As his tongue probed, the muscles of her cunt pulled it inward, the delicate hips began to rise and fall. Breath and life and spirit were added to bodily beauty, and in less time than it takes to undo a zip fly, the Princess was lost in an ecstasy of writhing and twisting and circling and spasming. Then she came in a volcanic eruption of pure, sweet sensuality, and her love juices poured down on the monk's hungry mouth. "Wow!" exclaimed the monk. "This is magic!" He climbed on top of the young girl and kissed her belly button and her breasts and sought her mouth, at the same time introducing his fat cock to her now lubricated love tunnel. "And how!" He slipped his full length into her and the internal muscles of her womb responded. And the monk started to ride like a madman. Then the Sleeping Beauty opened her eyes for the first time in a century. It took her several minutes to focus, but when she did what she saw was a wobbling fat, red, slobbering and slavering face above her. And she screamed rape! And boy! Could she scream! The old maid outside the door, newly wakened from her sleep, and the newly roused guards at the end of the corridor rushed into the room, and set upon the unfortunate rapist. The old maid beat him to a pulp with her fists and her purse, and the sentries ran his through with their swords. It is not known what the poor monk expected, but he died on the spot. It was not his lot to live happily ever after. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the palace precincts, the king awoke with a flappering blappeing mouth and wiped the sleep from his eyes and called for his page. The cook took to stirring the soup of the day and the scullery maid resumed washing the crockery and the cutlery, the dogs woke and scratched their genitals, the gardeners began to snip at the hedgerows and mow the lawns and pull weeds from the flower beds, and the woodmen chopped away at the trees and trimmed the undergrowth. And the young doctor shot a fresh load of semen into the queen. In short, everything returned to instant normality. But it was a primeval normality. For, from that moment of wakening, none of the citizens of that country died, and while they fucked like whoring rabbits no new babies were ever born. Nor was there ever again a famine in that land, nor any kind of plague. Nor did the king ever need to go to war or defend his frontiers from the ambitions of neighbouring kings. For the great forest that had sprung up around the kingdom became thicker as the years passed and cut off that kingdom from the rest of the world. And everyone who had fallen asleep and had awakened inside that great barrier now lived happily ever after, for the curse of Adam and Eve had been broken. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the hands of children. They should be outside playing in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - TV, Sitcom & Movie Archive