Cinderella: An Erotic Fairy Tale Ch. 05

Rose, Violet and Daisy

The challenges of surfing Space-Time - wandering Freckles, truly Radiant lips, and Sorcery for beginners - R.O.U.S. and Centaur sex - Wizardry, the Blues, and a hot Kat - Carnal Greetings and Sexual Carnage.

Having received the message from Dick - AKA Lord Ribbontongue - Frank flew back to his castle, with the messenger pigeon drafting in his wake. On the way, he considered what help he could provide. He had no army, nor even subjects beyond Mabel the cook, Sally the maid, and - technically - a few stubborn farmers in the lower reaches of his valley.

"The boy and I will fly out there, of course," he told his wife Trixie, after giving her a condensed version of the bird's message. "Could you ask your Fairy Godmother if she might pop over there and scout this out for us?"

"Of course. Shirley ..."

<POOF> "Hello, everybody! This sounds serious - I think I should maybe take the triplets along."

"You heard everything already?" asked Frank.

Uncharacteristically, Trixie was way ahead of him. By the triplets, Shirley had meant her sisters Florid, Fawna, and Barelyweathered. The trio had been deeply involved in the well known Sleepy Beauty fiasco. "Couldn't they delegate? Like, you could tie all your wands together or something ..."

"Could work. Good idea! See you there, Frankie." >FOOP<

First, Shirley took a layover to confer with her sisters (excepting her own twin, Game Edna, who had unaccountably chosen a career in entertainment) at their mighty mountain Fortress of Lassitude. This establishment was created from a static ripple of space-time, and permitted easy travel in both. The downside was that inside the mighty gates was a single room no bigger than their old cottage in the forest.

She had some catching up to do - what with her fairy godmothering (and her dedication to making the two-backed beast with Fullstaff back at the Boar's Little Head, just off Gropecunt Lane), she hadn't been by to visit for some time. After catching up (and some rumptypumpty - she was very fond of her sisters), she manifested onward.

<POOF> "Hello, everybody!"

Ribbontongue jumped six feet and blasphemed a fire-embellished oath across his mead hall. "Zounds and keee-rackatoa! Who are you?"

"Shirley, FGM, at your service," said his suddenly-arrived and garishly sequined visitor. "Your cousin Frank sends his regards, and asked me to tell you he is on his way."

"I'm amazed you got through. That bastard Tyrant has put a magicks dampening spell on my lands. Without magic, there's bugger all we can do against an army. At first I flew around roasting them," - he smiled grimly at the memory - "and then the pricks started taking hostages. They've breached the Western Wall by using my subjects as shields, the cowards!"

"Anti-magic magicks, is it? Hmm," mused Shirley. "And these are the young women who've started this war, then?"

It was, indeed - beyond a crowd of dismayed denizens of Dryadia all hoping the Dragon could save them, our girls stood together, wearing rather pretty frocks borrowed from some of Dick's harem (which group included a number of his previously rescued sacrifices). Rose bristled at Shirley's comment. "It wasn't our fault!"

"I'm sure it wasn't. Still, you won't mind helping us set it right, now would you." Delivered in Shirley's unusually deep voice, it didn't sound like a question.

"Of course not - but what can we do?"

"You'll be amazed. The Tyrant's wizard has used a powerful spell, to be sure - but it only works because the magic hereabouts is mostly all diffused - spread around, like. By good chance, I just happen to have a concentrated dose of the stuff." She flourished her wand, which was not, in the event, four tied together. It was clearly supercharged, though, and threw random sparks across the hall. "I think I can transfer some of my power, along with a tiny bit of juice from everyone in the land, and put it ... there!"

She snapped her wand in the direction of Rose, Violet and Daisy. Instead of the usual Fairy Godmother type tinkling flash, a powerful bolt of lightning crashed across the hall and lifted the three off the floor. But, instead of tumbling back to the flagstones, they hung in the crackling air, glowing - with their arms and legs spread wide, their hair standing straight up and their borrowed dresses literally smouldering.

Suddenly, the entire hall was awhirl with faintly glowing motes, as though the still-bright light had lit up the dust (which to some extent it had, since 'mead hall' and 'dusting' are mutually exclusive concepts). It seemed to come in from everywhere, building to a dense, glowing cloud centered on the girls.

Their clothing was soon blazing, but they seemed not to notice. Their bodies could be seen to be changing, too - already ample hips and breasts were enlarging sufficiently to blow apart the last of their tattered garments, sending flaming fragments to the floor. And the dancing sparks of magical essence were now seemingly being sucked into their bodies - their lips and labia glowed red, like iron in the forge, as though from the heat of the passing energy.

"Whoa!" said Ribbontongue.

"Not bad, if I do say so," agreed Shirley.

As the crowd watched in fascination, the girls slowly settled onto their bare feet, and the glow faded until they were left with the faintest of auras. Their now voluptuous forms gleamed with sweat, as though from enormous exertion. Or possibly from lust - their oversized nipples were stiff and long, and their puffy lips, above and below, were still bright carmine. One could see a hint of powerful muscles rippling just below their new padding, and their original attributes were intensified. For example, Daisy's freckles remained brighter than ever, but they could be seen to roam around her body. Just now they seemed to be favouring the inside of her wide-set thighs. And - like both the others - her hair was longer, and was curled and piled majestically, where normally you'd expect a wild tangle.

And then, of course, there was the matter of the new, leathery wings sprouting from their backs. These were much smaller than those of the dragon, indeed they seemed to be so small as to be simply decorative.

"Death angels," said a voice, nervously.

"Morrígna," said another, nearer to Shirley.

"Fucking gorgeous," said a third. Clothing was purely optional in Dryadia, although most favoured your diaphanous gown or the over-one-shoulder-check-out-my-tit toga look (these being pretty much randomly distributed between sexes and races). Beauty was in no short supply, either - gargoyles and trolls notwithstanding. But these three creatures were definitely outstanding.

"Not angels, or goddesses," said The Godmother. There was no gainsaying the third comment. "But close enough. Lust Sorceresses. Shape shifters, too." If I got it right, she thought. "Should be just the ticket." Actually, she had no idea what they could do - or if they could even harness their powers. At least Frank and Jerry were on their way, and should show up in a day or two. "How do you feel, my dears?"

Daisy spoke first. "I FEEL ..." She stopped abruptly, surprised at both the power and timbre of her voice. When the echoes subsided, she notched it back and tried again. "I feel amazing!"

Violet tugged on her heel and said, "You do realize you're floating six feet off the ground, right?"

Daisy flapped her arms without effect, beyond a pleasing counter-punctual bobbing of her newly enlarged breasts. The handful of freckles still hanging around her chest swirled around their pillowy surfaces, creating an effect like snow-globes in reverse. Her friends pulled her downward, although in truth neither of them was quite grounded, either.

"I feel it too," said Rose. "Maybe I should have believed in Fairy Godmothers sooner."

"No time like the present," said Shirley. The trio were already eying up Dick's dick; it was time to get them on the job. "All you really have to do is get out there, and fix this. Remember my motto - 'Make Lust, Not War'!" Not bad for the spur of the moment, she thought.

"Speak for yourself," muttered Ribbontongue. Dragons tend to be old-school about such things.

Shirley had been right - each of the girls had been visualizing that monster cock inside herself. But her comments brought them around enough to be willing to postpone that pleasure (and work out a schedule between them). It was Rose's idea to join hands before announcing, "Unto the breach!" It was a phrase she had read somewhere - before the Tyrant had usurped power, Gridiron had not scrapped with anyone for many a year. She suspected that it was somehow out of context, in some way.

Regardless, the result was immediate - they shot up, circled the hall once, and then zipped out the great doors and launched off in what they hoped was the right direction. There was a cheer and a smattering of applause at the impressive exit.

>< >< ><

They were, in fact, going in the right direction - magically, of course - to the nearest mayhem wrought by the Tyrant's men. Rose recognized them as a platoon of recently hired mercenaries - hard men, and not necessarily in a good way. They were well ahead of the rest of the army, pushing toward Ribbontongue's capital (such as it was) through one of the last major barriers in their path: the Western Fire Swamp. Even mosquitoes the size of bats - big bats - and considerable numbers of the traditional R.O.U.S. had not sufficed to slow their progress.

Our sorceresses found themselves coming to a stop some fifty feet over the oblivious soldiers.

"What will it be?" asked Violet.

"How about," answered Daisy, "we make forty brownies?" - flash!

"How about twenty boy pixies and twenty girl brownies?" suggested Rose. - flash!

"How about twenty two-headed brownies, each with cocks and tits and pussies?" was Violet's trump. - flash!

Luckily, even a two-headed brownie can outrun an R.O.U.S. (Also luckily, they did not find themselves to be several twenty-two headed brownies, which probably couldn't outrun anything.)

The girls took time out from their project to watch the pack of double-noggin hermaphrodite brownies as they struggled free of their human-sized gear and clothing to scramble back to slightly firmer shores. Once there they proceeded to fornicate in a single, exceedingly complicated mass. It was something like Gridironian mud wrestling, run amok.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day," said Rose.

"You shoulda worked the ports for a while," answered Violet.

"Makes me hot for more," Daisy decided. "Let's see what we can find." No sooner said than done, and they were flying off over the forest. "Shouldn't we have to flap our wings?" she added. With a little concentration she managed to flutter hers, so as to at least create the impression that they were of service.

"More to the point, why do you both have feathery wings, now, and mine are still leathery?" asked Daisy. Some of her freckles swirled out onto her wings for emphasis.

"Probably because you're still thinking about that dragon and his cock," said Violet.

"Well, yours make you look like a raven, so there!"

"Relax girls - I think Violet is right. Whatever we imagine seems to happen," said Rose.

Violet pointed down. "And what do we imagine is in store for them?"

Below was a troop of mounted rangers - light horsemen armed with bows, probing around the swamp, and riding as fast as the open forest would permit. These were Sir Phillip Boffin's men - part of the token, pre-tyrant forces. They were basically a hunting-and-riding club for rich boys, and were now well out of their depth. Although these lads were misguided (and deeply dim) the girls could see that they were not evil, per se - nothing, certainly, that a little magic couldn't fix.

Why not transform them into honest citizens of Dryadia?

"I think," suggested Daisy, "that I'd like a centaur or three to play with. Violet was right about that much, at least - I could use a sizable cock just now." Hastily, she added, "In me, not on me!" - flash!

This time, things moved more slowly. Saddle straps unfastened themselves, and the riders tumbled to the ground. Immediately, they started madly tossing away weapons and clothes as though the stuff was suddenly too hot to bear. Having hauled off the last scraps of undergarments they imagined to be scalding, they then felt an odd compulsion to climb back on their mounts.

The melding began immediately, and even the authors of it thought the sight was unsettling.

"Ugg - let's speed this thing up," said Rose. - flash!

The result was a herd of centaurs, the minds (and other assorted bits) of each man and his mount having been combined to form one of the randy creatures.

"Look up," shouted one. "Bodacious maidens!" Their sudden and impressive cock-stands were almost audible (excepting the case of their leader, who had happened to be riding a powerful mare). Centaurs like fucking even more than eating a nice, crispy apple or carrot.

"That's more like it!" said Daisy, who had long harboured a secret fantasy involving horse cocks.

"Enough for all of us," agreed Violet.

"More than enough," suggested Rose. - flash! She provided the leader of the group below them with a curvaceous top half to match her bottom.

Still in charge, although with no clear recollection of how she and her companions had come to be standing where they were, Sir Phillip - now the freshly minted centauress Phillipa - cut to the chase and called up to the sorceresses: "You there! My lads would love to pleasure you, if you'd care to come down and join us! Except Ajax and Achilles - boys, I believe I could use your talents over here."

Ajax promptly mounted his now comely boss in the usual horsy way - and human (or doggy if you prefer), since he was also nibbling her neck and fondling her bouncing tits from behind. For her part, Phillipa was free to tongue wrestle with Achilles.

Although Rose and the others were on a tight schedule, what with only having got started dealing with the Tyrant's forces, it seemed only polite to help these centaur lads - and lass - get used to their new life. They fluttered, after a fashion, down to the eager herd below.

Daisy already had a plan. She sat on the rump of one of their number, and lay back, spreading her bat-wings to balance herself (along with a firm request to the owner of said rump to reach back and hold her tight if he wanted a turn later).

The nearest hopeful caught on and reared up to mount the cunny invitingly offered directly atop his comrade's tail. Violet and Rose paused to see how this would work out. The answer was, quite well, thank you. The creature's yard sank to the hilt inside their friend - they could see the impossible bulge of it as it drove past her midriff and into her chest.

With a glance at each other, the girls hustled to find their own lover to play with.

Violet swooped under a likely prospect nearby and mounted him belly to belly, having enlarged her black-feathered wings greatly to help drive herself home.

As for Rose, she selected a handsome young horse-man and nuzzled his broad chest, while he groped her boobies; then she quickly skooched under him to lick the tip of his tempting wang. (Tempting, too, was her butt - one of her beau's buddies knelt down alongside to knead it.) She decided to experiment with sliding her lips around the leathery cockhead.

It didn't occur to her how unnaturally easy that went until the creature's stiff yard had plunged down her throat and onward into her chest. She promptly swivelled around until she was belly-upward like Violet, only with her nose stopped up against velvety horse scrotum. The bum-groper now helpfully supported her rear end, although the shaft inside her was so deep and hard she wasn't sure that was necessary.

>< >< ><

Meanwhile, back in Grid, the Tyrant's ally (or his hired henchman, depending on whom you asked) felt a Disturbance in the M-Force. He was Memphistopheles the Blues, Wicked Wizard Extraordinaire, and decidedly not at your service. It was he who had created the Magicks Dampening Field over Dryadia, and he was acutely aware that an enormous burst of magic had nonetheless broken through, followed by a series of smaller aftershocks. He was quite certain that no creature in the dragon's domain could have done this.

He stroked his obligatory beard and glowered. "Merde," said the wizard; then he crossed his tower chamber to open a tall cabinet. A slinky (if slightly shabby) black creature leaped out at him - too big to be a moggy, too small for a panther. "Bugger off," he added.

"Only doing my job, aren't I?" grumbled the cat, sulkily. She licked her genitals by way of dismissing him.

"Whatever," the wizard said. "Take the rest of the day off."

Without looking up, the cat changed and grew until a slim (and extremely flexible) young woman was hunched on his rug making slurping sounds. Just as when in the form a cat, she sported a few random scars and short spiky black hair; her various tattoos had only become apparent as her fur had disappeared.

"Before I change my mind," he suggested.

She rose and stretched sinuously, lifting her arms and pulling back her elbows. The effect of this was to thrust her pert little breasts directly at her employer. Gazing at him with her head tipped slightly, she began to finger and twist her nipples. Having gotten no appreciative response, she used her rough tongue to lazily dab a drop of pussy juice off her cheek, then shrugged and lifted a black bustiere and skirt from a hook inside the cabinet door. Dangling them negligently over her bare shoulder, she turned and sashayed out his door.

"Katsky. Wait."

The girl stopped, but didn't turn. Her bare bum wriggled slightly as though an invisible tail was lashing. She had been born a shape shifter, but Memphisto had no more idea than anyone else what had been her original form. Probably cat - sometimes she seemed to forget and wander around with long whiskers and a tail, or with a short nap of fur all over - but he didn't really care. It was enough that she was in his thrall, and would (mostly) do his bidding.

"I have sensed something odd happening in the fields of our victories in Dryadia. You are to fly over the battle and report what you see."

She turned, her head again tipped to one side and her green eyes questioning. Something odd? Then another shrug, and she handed him her clothes, even as wings grew from her back. These she flexed as far as was possible in the narrow hallway; then she folded them, crossed his chamber and jumped easily up to the sill of a tall casement window. "As you wish," she said, over her shoulder - it was the first time she had used her husky voice since she had changed from her cat form - then she pushed the leaded glass window open and leaped.

The wizard heard her wings snap wide as she caught the wind. Still irritated at her cheek, he hung her clothes back in the closet, then pushed aside a shrunken head (which winked at him) and pulled out a glowing crystal ball. Time to take that look and find out what in hells was going on in the dragon's lands.

>< >< ><

Rose paused in mid-gulp as a probing gust of chill wind blew dust across her flanks. Just for a fraction of an instant the magicks faltered, and she felt the terrible pressure of a throbbing centaur cock where it couldn't conceivably fit. Then it passed, but she and her new sisters had sensed the touch of a probing power that had tried to overcome Shirley's gift.