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Ara 28

A Fairy Tale

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If you like this story, please comment or send me feedback. I love nothing more than hearing why someone does or does not enjoy a story. If I can write the entirety of the story, you can write a substantial comment.

The maiden is based off of a woman in a Victoria’s Secret gif which you can find in my profile’s biography section.

Once upon a time, there was a young maiden in the kingdom who was so beautiful that she was kept away in a pen.

Since the moment her body blossomed into maturity, men had been seeking her for mating. They wanted to cup her bountiful bosom, run their hands around the womanly curves that peaked at her swelling hips. Every man in her presence had to hide his own growing erection. Her childhood friends, with whom she had once frolicked and played, now spent their days rubbing themselves to her image.

When the king heard of her beauty, he took a visit to her town to inquire. Everyone he spoke to knew of her; many expressed the immense satisfaction in the bouncing sway of her chest as she walked. Seeing the danger that could come to this eighteen year old beauty, the king placed her in a very large pen in the side of the village with a tight iron bar fence all around. Having done his duty to the young girl, the kind returned home satisfied, not only for having done a good in this world, but for having a new image to place in his mind when he made love to the queen.

The king, perhaps distracted by the sexuality of the youngling, had not thought his plan through. For though the young girl had a place in every male mind in the town, she had no direct relatives or caretakers. Locked in her prison, the girl had no source of food or supplies.

Quickly, she bartered away her clothes for a high price of bread, vegetables, and meat. There were many gatherers at the fence around her who were willing to pay not only for her nudity, but to smell her clothes and rub them along his body as he privately erupted.

With the dirty burlap vegetable saps, she fashioned herself some new clothes, the kind that covered only the bottoms of her ample breasts and broke away before another piece slung loosely around her thick waist. In her two piece, she attracted many admirers, from the apprentice boys who took the long route to pass by her pen, to the dirty old peasants, who without dignity slept at the gate to her pen and openly ejaculated through the bars and into her arena.

Locked in her pen with limited supplies, the girl was concerned, though not ultimately frightened, about her future.

Late one night, when even the most persistent perverts around the gate had dosed off, cock in hand, a big black rabbit hopped along and between the bars of the fence.

“Young maiden!” it yelled in a husky male voice.

“A talking rabbit?” the maiden inquired.

“Yes, yes, it is true. I am a rabbit capable of conversing with both humans and animals.”

“Well why are you here? Can I eat you, delicious big rabbit?”

The rabbit hopped a few feet away. “That you may not,” it responded, “But I can help you get food and supplies if you pay a small price.”

The girl was eager to find a solution to sustain herself in this pen. “What price, what price?” she frantically asked.

“Even in the forest of animals, all any male can speak of is your beauty. The big birds sing songs of your thick bright lips. The stags gruff of your backside. Even the worms in the ground whisper about your tight white belly. All I ask, as an admirer of your beauty, is a glimpse of those big glorious breasts that you have proudly displayed on your chest.”

The maiden looked at the rabbit, who was clearly as eager and horny as the men who masturbated at the gate, and undid her top, letting her breasts out in display for the rabbit.

“Oh glory,” the rabbit said.

Letting the top fall to the floor, the maiden got down on her knees in front of the rabbit.

“Now please, give me food and supplies!”

The rabbit laughed.

“Do I look like I have food or supplies, young lady? Alas, I myself have nothing to contribute but what you see in front of you. But I did plan on telling you this: the deal which you made with me can be made with any human who passes by your gate, I assure you. They will be willing to trade all they have for encounters with you, virgin beauty.”

The maiden was furious with the rabbit. Topless and angry, she grabbed the rabbit by the hind legs and choked its little neck.

“Please, please, I assure you I am right.”

“How dare you take advantage of me, little rabbit. I will eat you up, I will!”

The little rabbit’s body went limp and with a few branches that had fallen into her pen, the girl made a fire, cooked the rabbit, and ate its flesh. Leaving her burlap top on the floor where it lay, she licked its bones clean and fashioned its pelt into a newer but skimpier top.

Only a few hours after, when the sun was starting to rise and the girl’s full belly made her mind sharper, she realized that her tasty lecherous dinner may have had a point. Perhaps he had taken advantage of her, but she could surely perform the bets10 same deal and take advantage of others.

The girl may have been poor and alone and beautiful, but she was not dumb. Nor was she as innocent as the king presumed. For though the lust she inspired in every men could never be matched, the girl had a lust of her own, a smart mind how to use it, a rabbit’s idea in her head and its flesh in her stomach.

With some of the merchants or the servants, she could be tactful. By approaching the bars and rubbing her body against that of a bread baker, she could persuade him to accidentally drop a loaf into her pen where he couldn’t retrieve it. Likewise, the clothes errant boys left fabric from which she was able to construct not only a luscious soft bed, but soft pillows and warm blankets. Though her virgin fingers never directly touched a male’s member, the maiden’s sexuality had earned her a substantial source of goods inside her pen. She was even able to construct a private enclosure for her bed with curtains made of silk and posts made of thick oakwood. Inside her canopy bed, she explored herself in the way that all the boys she bartered with wished. The feeling of their beating hearts against her chest and she rubbed her body all over them, their nimble hands insider her shirt, the hardness she felt inside their trousers when she turned and gyrated her behind onto their bodies… A long day of this made her finger explorations into long and satisfying quests.

After a few months of teasing and rubbing, the maiden found her supplies dwindling. The young men who before gave up whole legs of lamb for a chance to grope her breast were now so tense and needing her release that they wouldn’t accept the same innocences that they once did. It was late one night when a persistent son of a chicken farmer convinced the beauty to slip her fingers down his trouser and stroke him to completion.

When she withdrew her sticky hands from his body, the chicken farmer’s son saw the aroused blush in her face and the deep heaving of her breasts, and told her that like chicken, that too could be a source of protein. The maiden, feigning more innocence than she truly had, licked every drop of the sticky stuff off of her delicate fingers.

That night, in the privacy of her be, she made herself moan more than ever had before. Chewing on the delicious chicken filets the farmer’s son had left her, she shoved finger after finger into her virgin cavity until her whole body rocked with pleasure.

Slowly, the girl introduced similar bargins with most of the boys and merchants. Now not only did she have a sufficient pile of delicious meats and breads which was only growing each day, she had the also delicious source of white sticky cum, which she had developed a genuine devious taste for slurping down in front of every surprised boy’s face.

Her nimble fingers became better and better at handling the men, and with each delivery of white nectar, her body rocked twice as hard that night in her bed.

One day, while she was in the midst of calming her stirring loins in bed, the maiden saw the curtains of her bed rustle.

“Who is there?” she asked, slipping her sticky fingers out from between her legs.

“Quack! I am a duck,” quacked a duck.

Remembering the rabbit, the girl was cautious in leaving her tent.

“Lecherous duck, I know of animals like you. I will expose for you neither my bouncy breasts nor my supple behind.”

“Quack, that is not for what I have come, virgin maiden.”

“Oh really? Are you saying you would not like a peek of my taught legs or flat stomach?”

“Quack! I would like nothing more, beautiful girl, but that is not why I am here.”

“Then why are you here, dirty duck?”

“I have been watching you as I fly over each day, quack! I have seen the breasts you exposed that night to the rabbit, the way you licked clean his bones, the way you accumulated wealth with your body, and then by stroking them with your light fingers and gulping down their white clumpy ooze. Quack! We ducks have seen the way of men, and soon they will grow tired of even your enthusiasm for eating their mess. However, you mustn’t ever sacrifice your purity, quack! As much as your stroke them and slurp, do not let them enter between your legs!”

The maiden stared at the duck for a moment until it let out an annoying “Quack!”

“And why not?”

“Quack! Because once men have entered through your womanly opening, their seed can grow in your stomach and devour you! Your methods may have saved you now, but if you let this happen, the parasite that their seed creates inside of you will ruin your beauty and your methods of getting food. Quack!”

“But if I cannot keep them satisfied, won’t that happen anyway?” The maiden was beginning to trust the duck and its quirky way of quacking.

“Perhaps, quack! But you mustn’t let them enter, you mustn’t!”

The maiden thought this over.

“You are wise, despite your animal outbursts, duck. I will promise you what you wish.”

“Quack! Thank you maiden!” The duck did a small dance in circles at the maiden’s bets10 giriş feet.

“For aiding you in this way,” the duck went on, “Could I please have but a small glimpse of your awesome fleshy behind?”

The maiden grew furious at the duck’s lechery. She grabbed it by its neck and strung it good, its beak never to quack nor speak of her behind again. As she feasted on roasted duck, she strung its feathers into an ornamented but loose sash. Shedding her old burlap bottoms, she strung the small sash around her waist to hide her woman’s slit and but a small portion of her fleshy round back side.

She licked the duck’s bones clean, leaving only the head which she tossed into a corner of her pen.

“Humph,” she said to herself, “I wil take his advice in my head in the same way I took his meat into my body.”

In the following months, the maiden saw a new spurge of visitors due to the elegant combination of her rabbit hide top and her duck feather sash. Keeping her promises in mind, she never let them even touch between her legs, though for the right price, they were welcome to lift up the duck feathers and take a gander at her front or back. Soon, she was willing to let her round fat lips wrap around the male members, where they could shoot her supply of man juice directly into her stomach. Her wet fleshy lips and expert tongue made her supplies more and more bountiful.

However, as she had worried, even this grew tired. After a few months, the maiden was lucky to get even a full loaf of bread for a day of hard rods spurting everything down her gullet.

“Drat,” said the maiden one night as she lay hungry in bed, rubbing her fingers along the soft black fur that composed her top, “Is it time to break the duck’s promise? Do I dare?”

Staring at the young tight flesh of her stomach, she couldn’t imagine not having her radiant beauty. However, as she peeked outside her curtains to see if any late night errant boys wanted to go at her for some food, she spotted the rotting duck’s head in the corner, which was even now attracting what looked like fleas. How could she trust such a pathetic figure as that duck? Who was so lecherous for her body but so easily killed and consumed… She even took a moment to laugh. Of course that fowl could not be right. If that sticky white man-seed felt so warm on her hands and tasty on her tongue, it could never be anything horrible in her loins. Shutting the curtains and leaving the duck’s head to rot, she determined that tomorrow, she would allow male after male to send wave after wave of sticky juice inside her.

At the corner of her pen where the duck’s head rotted, a small flea glimpsed the maiden’s head peek out and back in to her dwellings. Given how short the lives of fleas are, this one had never seen nor heard of the beautiful maiden locked in this pen. Now, seeing her gorgeous hair and sensual lips, it jumped its way over to her tent and slipped its way inside.

The sleeping maiden’s body lay breathing on its bed, the rabbit fur barely covering her heaving breasts and the duck’s feathers slipping away from both her soft back side and pulsing moist entrance. The flea had never seen such a magnificent sight in his life, and it was no trouble for him to slip between the duck’s feathers and address the glistening wetness between the maiden’s legs.

Feeling a disturbance, the maiden awoke to the flea busying himself at her loins, and she picked it up between her fingers.

“Little flea, how dare you come to me while I sleep.”

“Gorgeous maiden, how incredible you are! Your wetness has satisfied me more than I could have ever imagined.”

Angered at his talk of her body, the girl squished the little bug between her fingers. Taking no note of the way the flea spoke as if he had already finished inside her, she turned back to sleep.

When she awoke in the morning, she felt awful. Never in her life had she felt this sick. Not only was she unable to let the men enter her, she couldn’t even take them in her mouth.

For a whole week, she lay in her canopy, trying to ignore the shouts of angry men who begged for a glimpse of her sensual body and release inside of her mouth. While laying, she remembered the rabbit’s words about the endless desires of men, the duck’s warning of her entrance, and the flea’s insinuation. She realized that she had caught the flea inside her too late, and it had already taken effect.

After a week, one morning she awoke feeling better to a tiny figure laying in her bed between her legs. It looked like a baby human, but it was smaller than even that. Thinking of the duck and the flea, she figured that perhaps the duck’s warning applied only to humans. The damage the flea had done was but a week long endeavor, and sure enough, her body was still as supple and gorgeous as ever. The product of the mistake lay there, innocent looking, and she decided to keep it here, in the tent, as a reminder of the importance of her purity.

The next morning, she was back at the gate, sucking and stroking as many members as she could reach. In her week long absence, the crowd had grown rowdier bets10 güvenilir mi and more desperate. They were providing her with more food than she had ever gotten in a day. This was the solution to her problem. As long as she took breaks, kept them wanting more, she could sustain herself and her mistake without losing her purity and her body.

As time went by, the little body grew in the tent into a normal sized baby, and eventually a normal sized human. The men who saw the child grew excited, realizing that the little one’s existence meant that perhaps, with enough goods and time, she would let each of them inside of her wetness too. This was not to be the case, but the maiden knew better than to say otherwise.

The little male child was no different than any other human boy. Perhaps he was a bit scrawnier, certainly a lot uglier, but there was no evidence to his origin in his appearance. His mother, the glorious maiden, kept him fed and groomed, but while she spent her days at the edge of the pen with the men, the child roamed the center and played in the tent.

As the years went by, the maiden grew impossibly more and more beautiful. Her breasts took on a new glow, and her hips attained a sexier sway than anyone thought possible. There was a reason she was so universally desired; the maiden’s eternal youth and captivating beauty was not to be ruined by something as commonplace as time. The child, too, grew, though he became scrawnier and uglier with age. The maiden spent each day performing her duties, letting the men soak her over with their sticky white spray, before coming home to the tent, letting the flea boy suckle at her glazed breast, and putting him to bed before ravaging herself and going to bed too.

In his adolescence, the child befriended many animals who would sneak to him in the pen. They asked for his loyalty, performing tricks to convince him to keep them as pets and bring them into his mother’s tent. The maiden knew the ways of these animals; they were using her son to get glimpses of her body without payment, and so each time she saw the boy with a animal, she would gut in in front of him, eat every piece of its meat, and tie its pelt or feathers as a support for her bust or an adornment for her hips.

The child grew into a cautious scrawny man, and his mother continued in the business of pleasing the townfolk at the fence. Borrowing some wood and linen from his mother’s ventures, he built his own little tent in the corner where the duck’s head once lay. He spent his days in his tent, drawing pictures on wood bark and shooing away animals, who he had learned were really drawn to the pen by his mother’s sensual body.

Once afternoon, while the maiden gulped down the long rod of a dignified nobleman’s servant boy, a voice whispered to him in his tent.

“Flea boy!” yelled the voice.

“Excuse me? Who are you, and why are you calling me that?”

“Ah, among the animals it is no secret that you were conceived by your goddess maiden mother and a puny pervert flea.” The flea boy accepted this explanation; he had heard rumors amongst the fleas of such a thing, but they always scurried away from him and the maiden, rightfully.

“Who are you?” asked the flea boy, again.

“Please, let me come into the safety of your tent, away from the danger of your glorious mother, and I will explain all.”

The flea boy beckoned, and into the tent strode a tiny black baby bull.

“Thank you, flea boy,” said the bullock, “Though I appear to you here as a baby bull, I swear to you that I am unlike any animal you have ever encountered. Back in my home, across many oceans, I was a proud warrior, until a sorcerer cast me into the form of a baby bull. I snuck away from my home, where I knew meat was scarce and I would surely be killed. The boat on which I hid was full of many other animals, who informed me that a beautiful seductress lived in a pen in this village, but that if I came close to her and attempted anything towards her beautiful body, I would be quickly and violently killed. Alas, I admit, though she is your mother, I was intrigued by this description of her round full breasts and thick soft behind. I was and am a warrior, and I was not to be scared by a woman, no matter how sexy and gorgeous she may be. However, in the days I’ve spent stalking this pen, the other animals have warned me, telling me stories of goats she has skinned and worn around her heavy chest, the robins whose innards she has slurped while adorning her magnificent behind with its feathers, and even the tiny piglets, who she has mashed and rubbed the slick grease along her thick juicy lips to make them shine as she allowed men entrance to her mouth.

“They told me of you, and your intended kindness, though they said you have stopped accepting animals into your home. However, I come to you with a deal that benefits both you and me. What I desire most is not only the full body of your mother, but a return to my human warrior form. What you must desire is an escape from this prison. If you keep me here in this tent, and allow me to gaze upon your mother’s flesh as she sleep, when I finally grow into a full bull, I will stampede the fence and free you both. Then, you will barter with the humans, who I as a bull cannot approach without them trying to eat me. It is a simple mixture of goods which will return me to my strong manly body.”

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