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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: sleeping.txt (fantasy)
Authors name: Lor Oldmann (alasder@planet-save.com)
Story title : Sleeping Beauty: Potted Fairy Tales
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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.
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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
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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.
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