A Sissy Fairy Tale

Slowly, the prince reached around and began to rub the salve onto his opening, using his fingers to work it deep inside. The chieftain quivered with need but allowed the prince to tease him, enjoying the show as the young, enticing creature looked over his shoulder to meet the lustful gaze of the huge half-man, half-horse standing behind him.

When he felt something begin to happen, the prince looked a question at the centaur and the chieftain nodded his head and stepped forward. Holding up a hand, the prince backed up to crouch between the legs of the large creature and felt the massive, flared tip press against him. To his surprise and astonished delight, he opened up easily for the massive shaft and felt intense pleasure with only a moderate amount of discomfort as he slid back onto the chieftain's phallus.

Though he tried to allow the prince to take the lead, the chieftain soon began pounding at the tiny, incredibly tight opening. While the prince moaned and screamed with pleasure, the chieftain groaned and huffed powerfully with each thrust. The tent began to smell of musk and sex, driving both participants into an even more frenzied state. Soon, the prince felt a stream of sticky wetness on his thighs and realized that he was leaking from his semi-rigid, flopping appendage. In moments, he shuddered in bliss as he erupted onto the floor beneath them.

Feeling the tightening of an already incredible orifice, the chieftain yanked himself out and reminded the prince of their deal, telling him to quickly go down and catch his seed in the prince's mouth. The prince agreed, shakily but quick enough for the first huge blast of semen to catch him full in the face as he reached out to stroke the enormous shaft. Coated with only a fraction of the chieftain's mighty load, the prince opened his mouth and tried to catch and swallow as much of the creamy, surprisingly delicious seed as possible.

As the chieftain continued to erupt, the realized that he was getting full and his stomach began to hurt. Remembering his deal and determined to follow it to the letter, he swallowed every drop he could, though much of the thick seed ended up covering him. When the last streams of the thick, viscous fluid subsided, the prince looked down to see his belly distended.

"Well," the chieftain said with a breathless chuckle. "You were right to warn me not to underestimate you. You shall stay in my tent this night and have an escort across our lands whenever you are prepared to depart. I shall even allow you to keep the salve."

"Th—" The prince began to thank the centaur chieftain but instead burped and quickly covered his mouth, embarrassed. The chieftain merely laughed and waved it away, walking to the front of his tent.

"Bring a basin of hot water for our royal guest," the chieftain called. "He would wish a bath."

To chuckles and smiles, the centaurs welcomed the embarrassed prince into their midst as he bathed and prepared to rest for the long journey across their lands. His stomach was significantly bloated but the chieftain suggested that it would slowly dissipate as he must have gotten salve along with seed down his throat when he used his mouth and tongue to coax the thick seed from the chieftain's cock. The next morning, none the worse for ware and surprisingly still full from his "meal" the night before, the prince set out for the next leg of his journey.

The journey across the Land of Three Rivers was not overly long or unpleasant and gave the prince time to really examine his feelings about the night with the centaur chieftain. Yet again, the prince was surprised how much he enjoyed the entire experience, especially the uniquely sensual feeling of dressing up as a princess and being taken wholly as a woman. Knowing the nature of the trapped princess in the tower, he hoped she would understand and be open to exploring such feelings.

The bluebird returned within a day, having given the message to Prince Robert that Prince Robin had been allowed passage. The centaurs made good companions on the three-day trek and, when they reached the beginning of the Desert Kingdom, they bid him farewell and safe journey, indicating that he would be welcomed back. He parted fondly and even asked them to thank their chieftain, for everything.

The land quickly transformed from lush, green plains to sparse, rugged shrubs and small trees in rocky ground, which eventually gave way to almost barren sand. Prince Robin's centaur escorts had provided detailed instructions on how to navigate to the nearest city in the Desert Kingdom. When they parted ways at the end of the lush, fertile land of the three rivers, the prince was confident that he could find his way.

While the Desert Kingdom was a harsh land and difficult to travel, the city of Sahiel was only a day's ride from the edge of the centaur lands and had established trade with the centaurs. When the prince came to Sahiel, he learned of a caravan traveling to the capital city of Sharji the next day and bought passage with the caravan master. The caravan traveled for three nights to reach the city of Sharji, where the prince requested an audience with Sultan Nadim the Great in the castle Qadib Akbar.

Upon hearing of the Prince's presence in his city, the Sultan dispatched a royal courier to bring him to the castle at once. A room was prepared for the prince and, upon his arrival, so was a much needed bath. That evening, Prince Robin was invited to dine with the sultan and his three daughters and told the sultan of his quest.

The sultan and his daughters listened intently to Prince Robin's story. Shiri, the youngest daughter, sighed wistfully at the romance of the quest. Farah, the oldest, scoffed at the mention of the bird carrying the flower, so the prince asked the bird to land on her palm and sing to her, proving himself to her and all others present.

Though the sultan sympathized with the young prince, he was concerned with helping the young man and earning the ire of the sorcerer. He believed that, without his aid, the prince would never survive the twelve-day journey across the open desert to the canyon of the serpent, the path to the bog of thorns. He decided to test the prince and explained that, in order to receive his aid in crossing the desert, Prince Robin would have to provide something of equal value.

The prince immediately began to offer money but the sultan stopped him, waving the notion away. The sultan believed he had all he could ever desire and wanted to see what the brave young prince would suggest. He told Prince Robin that he was welcome to stay as his guest for as long as he desired and while under his roof, would want for nothing.

After the dinner with the Sultan, Prince Robin felt dejected. He had no idea what to offer the sultan in exchange for his help. Pondering his options, he returned to his room to retire for the evening. A short time later, the prince heard a light scratching at his door and was surprised to find Farah waiting for him on the other side.

"Princess Farah," the prince exclaimed. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"I am curious about some things I have heard of your culture," the princess replied as she stood in the doorway. "And I may be able to help you in exchange."

"Oh? Would you like to come in?"

"I would love to," said the princess, a little suggestively, as she strolled in. "I have heard your people hold... unusual views on the roles of men and women."

"Not so unusual... mawali is it?"

"It is mawlati, but you may simply call me Farah, my prince. I have heard women may hold land and power in your kingdom... and even married women may have power over their husbands."

"Thank you, Farah, and please call me Robin. Yes, it is true and depends on the two people involved. Why do you ask?"

"I am intrigued by the idea of... having power over a man," the princess said seductively.

"I see. I know of a few couples in our kingdom with such a relationship," Prince Robin said smiling. "Often, the roles and power depend on the setting. Where one may hold all of the power in public, like the commander of the city guard, his wife may hold all of the power in private... like the bedroom."

"That would be... lovely. My husband does not appreciate such arrangements. He would strike me for even suggesting such a thing. And so it appears we both may provide that which the other desires."

"Ah," Prince Robin sighed softly, a knowing smile on his face as he gazed at the gorgeous, exotic beauty with long dark hair, bronze skin, and dark, almond eyes. "So I allow you to dominate me this night, and you provide me the answer to the riddle of the sultan's aid?"

"Just so," Princess Farah said, nodding.

The prince agreed with little hesitation, as he found Farah very beautiful and alluring. He was not surprised when she took charge and began ordering him around, demanding that he undress her and call her sayyeda, the word for mistress in her language. He was surprised, however, when she produced a large, ornate gold and silver phallus inlaid with ivory from beneath the folds of her gown and fitted it into a leather harness she wore at her waist as he undressed her. Farah's voluptuous body was as magnificent as he imagined it and the sight of the large, downward arching phallus strapped to her hips only added to his excitement.

Princess Farah dominated Prince Robin like she was born to it, providing the perfect mix of affection and dominance with just a hint of humiliation. She was intimidating and just a little bit demeaning when she ordered him to dress in her clothes, which he thoroughly and enthusiastically enjoyed after his experience with the centaur chieftain. Seeing how beautiful the prince became when he dressed as a desert princess and how excited it made him, Farah eagerly demanded that he pleasure her with his mouth and came quickly under his attentions.

Though forceful and demanding as he dressed, pleasured her, and then undressed seductively, she became gentle and loving as she used the salve he gave her to ease her exquisitely crafted phallus into his lubricated, and obviously well-used anus. Knowing of the salve and surprised the prince possessed such a treasure, the princess was thrilled that she could take him as vigorously as she desired. The fact that he obviously enjoyed being taken in such a manner heightened her pleasure even more, enough to bring her to an ecstatic climax from just the friction against the harness as she took him hard from behind.

When the two collapsed to the bed, both exhausted and thoroughly satisfied, Princess Farah thanked the prince breathily and told him that the key to her father's aid would be found through his tears. As the sultan, everyone attempted to make him happy. They gave him gifts, and sang great ballads praising his deeds. Even the greatest poets and musicians only sought to provide cheerful songs. Farah suggested that, should Prince Robin write a song of his quest so powerful and emotional that it would bring her father to tears, the sultan would find it of far greater value than a guide across the desert.

Prince Robin was incredibly grateful to the princess for her aid and leapt up to get his lute. He spent three days and nights tirelessly writing a ballad of the lonely, cursed princess. Though Princess Farah urged him each night, he neither slept nor joined her for pleasure. At the end of the third night, the prince collapsed, exhausted after completing his greatest work up to that point. On the fourth evening, he told the sultan over dinner that he had a gift for him and drew out his lute, playing the song he had written.

The song was haunting and beautiful, with elements from each of the lands he had so-far visited and told the story of the trapped princess and her curse. The sorrowful melody that accompanied her story blossomed into hope as the bluebird crossed the many leagues to find him and bloomed fully when he began his journey. The ballad ended, unfinished but somehow complete, with his request of the sultan for aid. When he looked over to Sultan Nadim the Great, there were tears streaming from his eyes.

"Young prince," said the sultan. "You have provided a worthy gift as well as a threat I cannot ignore. Your unfinished ballad shall not end with the refusal of Nadim the Great to aid in so noble a cause. You shall have your guide, along with all of the aid my kingdom can provide."

With that, Prince Robin thanked the sultan profusely and promised to play the completed song for him upon his return. The sultan was so grateful for being immortalized in such a beautiful heroic ballad that he began preparations that evening. Though still tired, Prince Robin could not help but accept Princess Farah's offer for another night of wild, dominant lovemaking. Once again, Prince Robin became Princess Robin and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The next morning, the prince awoke to find himself fully provisioned and a guide prepared for him to begin the long trek across the open desert.

The twelve days of travel across the desert were difficult, but uneventful. Though the land was harsh, no sandstorms assailed them on their journey to the Canyon of the Serpent and the guide had little difficulty navigating their route. On the thirteenth day of their journey, the pair found the canyon. The guide explained that he could not wait indefinitely and the prince suggested that he could send the bird back to the sultan when he returned and the bluebird chirped in agreement from the prince's shoulder. With that, the guide left the prince to continue his journey through the canyon to the Bog of Thorns.

As the prince neared the end of the canyon, the land became more and more full of life. By the time he reached the other side, stagnant water welled up from the ground and huge, thorny vines crawled the walls of the canyon. The ground was so saturated with fetid water past the edge of the canyon that it was impossible to find a dry path. Picking his way through the swampy land, the prince soon found that he and his horse were soaked from head to toe.

Half way across the Bog of Thorns, the prince's mount broke his leg on a thorny root under the water. The prince did everything he could but the horse, incensed and screaming, had to be put down. The prince did it quickly and then gathered everything that he could carry.

Prince Robin, cold and wet, realized almost immediately that he could never carry all of his supplies without a mount of some kind. He was disheartened at the loss of his trusty steed and cried out in despair that he had come so far and overcome so much just to become hopelessly stranded in a swamp. Though the prince had lost hope, the indomitable bluebird sang to him of courage and hope, reminding him that the edelweiss was still magically fresh despite the long journey and the harsh desert.

Inspired, the prince drew his sword and began collecting long, straight lengths of the thick, thorny vines and quickly fashioned them into a raft. When the raft easily supported his weight along with all his equipment, he knew that his journey was far from ended and he had overcome yet another challenge on his road. The remainder of his journey through the swamp was difficult, but with the help of the bluebird, the prince easily navigated across the Bog of Thorns.

As the swamp gave way forest, the prince knew that traveling would only get more difficult, especially once he reached the Planes of Sorrow. Repacking only what he could carry, he left much of his provisions and decided to hunt and forage for food. As he unpacked his equipment, he found a tightly bound oilcloth he did not recognize. Opening it, he found an exquisite desert dress and veil similar to what he wore during his wonderful sessions with Princess Farah. The dress, veil, and accompanying makeup was obviously a secret gift from the princess, a gift he chose to keep rather than abandon with most of the rest of his equipment. By the next evening, he was camped just inside the wood line on the edge of the Planes of Sorrow, roasting a fish and watching for signs of the ghosts reported to haunt the area.

The prince was not sure what to believe but did not want to ignore all he had heard. According to legend, the Planes of Sorrow were once the home of a great kingdom, beset by some catastrophe that cursed the land, leaving not even a ruin behind. The only remnant of the ancient kingdom were the ghosts that tormented any traveler to set foot on the planes. Staying vigilant until well after dark, the prince saw no sign of ghosts or any other activity from his vantage point within the trees on the edge of the planes.

Relaxing, Prince Robin decided to write the next two verses of his ballad so that he might play it for the princess once he has rescued her. He wrote and played well into the night until he was satisfied with the masterpiece he was creating. Pausing to stretch, he turned towards the planes and nearly dropped his lute. Just outside the tree line, a vast hoard of dark, shadowy figures stood in numbers so great, the prince could not even begin to count them.

As he stood, staring at the insubstantial shapes of the ghostly hoard, he began to hear the faintest hint of a whisper. At first, he wasn't sure he heard anything, but the sound grew slowly more powerful and insistent until it was a near deafening hiss. The sound was a single word chanted over and over by every single ghost present. He did not speak their language, but he knew what they wanted.

Slowly, he lifted his lute and strummed a single chord. The chanting stopped immediately. He began to play a well-known heroic ballad but the ghosts, for that's what they were, issued a hissing scream and surged towards the trees, though none crossed out of the planes. He stopped playing and the ghosts calmed before chanting again. Since they gathered for the ballad he was writing, he played it again and the ghostly hoard silenced.

The music wove through the story again, Prince Robin adding a few embellishments and adjustments that came to him during the impromptu performance. When he reached the end of his most recent verse, the loss of his horse in the Bog of Thorns, he realized that he could not continue that song and finished with a flourish. Silence stretched as the ghosts waited. The almost whisper tickled his ear again and before it launched back into the ghostly chanting, he began another romantic ballad, silencing the ghosts yet again.

On and on he played, often repeating songs he knew well and improvising when he couldn't remember parts. He played for hours until his fingers ached and his throat grew hoarse. As he played his favorite ballad a third time, he heard a chanting from the ghosts and stopped. Again, the chants were an almost deafening whisper but this time, there was no animosity in it. As the sky lightened, the ghosts began to disperse until, just as the sun crested the horizon of the plane, they had completely disappeared.

Though the prince was afraid, he knew that he must continue. He wasn't sure what would happen to him when he set out across the plane, but if his experience of the previous night was any indication, he needed to play music as he crossed. Fearing to wait, he picked up his camp and set out, exhausted. He did not encounter anything unusual the entire day, though he was still only about half way across the planes as the sun began to set. When he realized that he did not need to play during the day to keep the ghosts away, he rested his hands and voice as he walked.

Though he had not slept in two days and was beyond exhausted, he knew he must continue. Picking up a lively but romantic tune, he began to play as the sun set. Slowly, shadowy forms began to fade in around him and moved with him as he walked. Though exhausted and almost delirious, he continued to sing and play as the ghosts surrounded him but left him unmolested.