The second volume of the Fairy Tale Bundle is Lambda Literary Award-nominated Charming, edited by Jen Levine, an anthology of gay fairy tale erotica in contemporary settings.
This excerpt is from “A Day in the Life of a Magic Prince” by NCN:
…The old man led me through a maze of marble-topped counters, polished hardwood floors, and massive oil paintings. They might have tipped me more than a musket ball, I remember thinking crossly, until I began to look at the paintings—and was mesmerized by the bizarre and vivid creatures they depicted. In one, a giant multi-headed wolf rose gleaming from a stream while a long, snake-like leopard watched with silver eyes from a tree above. In another I caught a glimpse of scales, but I had to hurry to catch up to the old man, who’d rounded another corner.
At last I peered down a narrow hallway, lined with antiquated books but curiously absent of exits. This especially bothered me as I actually did have to pee. I stood there for a minute, pondering the weirdness of my situation. I realized I had subconsciously interpreted Uncle Mink’s command as an invite to some sort of transcendental sex party. But now I wasn’t so sure.
“Down the hall you go!” the old man directed cheerily, and gave me a little spank that stirred me from my hesitation. Down the hall I went.
As I approached the end of the hall, I realized that what I’d taken for a shadowy corner was in fact a pair of shadowy French doors. I gulped, pushed the handle, and swung them open.
I looked out onto a lush patio garden. The sun was now low in the sky and I couldn’t see well, but there appeared to be a small crowd some ways ahead of me behind an aeonium bush, laughing and chatting. I awarded myself a smile for plant recognition; gardening doesn’t come naturally to me, but my Daddy is endeavoring to teach me. Uncle Mink stepped out from behind the purple leaves, and my smile widened.
“Prince Michael!” he exclaimed. “How good of you to come to our party. You’re just in time.” He perched his cocktail glass atop the high brick wall enclosing the patio and spread his arms wide, casting a great birdlike shadow toward me. I tried not to rush to him too obviously, but I must have let some eagerness show, for after a few seconds of solid hug he let his hand stray up my neck and began playing with the hair there, twisting it through his fingers and massaging the base of my skull. I felt my cock harden against his thigh almost instantaneously, and I attempted to hide the blush that spread across my face by burrowing it into his chest. He began to grip and tug at my hair in earnest then, and I supposed he’d taken my gesture of modesty for one of submission. On reflection, I suppose that’s what it was.
Another hand found its way down to my ass, cupping it and pinching sharply through the thin leather, and I opened my mouth to start an instinctive licking and biting at the dots of chest I could taste through lace. This provoked a small growl from Mink, and he guided my head until my mouth found a stiff, ringed nipple. I explored it with my tongue, pushing the ring this way and that under the lace and licking gently at the tip. After a minute of this Mink’s growl deepened and he crushed my face against him. I gathered skin into my mouth and sucked hard, biting and tugging without caution as he jerked my head about roughly.
I felt my cap fall off at one point, and the hand on my ass disappeared—then it returned with a smack that shook my body, and I didn’t care about hats anymore. I moaned into Mink’s nipple, drool spilling around it and soaking his shirt, and he laughed at me.
“You like that, little prince? Of course you do. You’re going to do perfectly.”
He plucked my head from his nipple and I whimpered.
“Aw. Does the prince need something in his mouth every second?”
An assent would sound impertinent; a negation, defiant. And false. I waited with what I hoped read as eager pliability as Mink held me at arm’s length by my hair, twitching his mustache in contemplation. A wicked grin crept over his face.
“I do believe we’ve time enough for a spanking.” I followed his eyes to the chain round my neck. “Is that a timepiece?” I nodded and began to extract the watch head from my shirt, but he stopped me. “Do not treat time as a tool at your disposal,” he lectured as he unbuttoned my shirt deftly, still clutching my hair, “or it will abandon you when you need it most. Approach it with respect, as you would a creature….” The final button popped, and Mink bent to study the watch face. “Excellent,” he remarked and broadened his gaze to encompass my chest. My nipples wrinkled and hardened as I shivered, wondering what he would make of the old scars now illuminated by slanting light. If he drew conclusions he did not voice them, however, but began a torturous trail from clavicle to hip of pinches too hard to soothe, too light to satisfy. “Time enough indeed,” he repeated, and pulled the dark hairs spilling from my waistband so hard I gasped.
Then, in rapid succession, he spun me on my axis, pulled my shirt down, and used its front tails to wrap and bind my forearms behind my back. Spinning me back around, he drew me to him for a slow, building kiss. Yes, I remember thinking as I received his long tongue, letting it probe my teeth and reach back into my throat, this is right, it is right to trust this strange man. I pressed into him, molding my body to his so that the bulge of his cock imprinted my belly with its heat. I squirmed against his cock to arouse him further, pressing until I felt the hard shape awaken a curious spot in my guts.
His tongue withdrew. “Not yet,” he chastised, and I smiled at the promise this rebuke contained…
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