Sinders
Sinders was looking at herself in the mirror. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders as she painted her lips red and rouged her cheeks ready for the task ahead.
“Your twelve O’clock’s here Sinders,” the Madame shouted, “The fat bald deaf one with bad breath.”
“Which short fat bald deaf one with bad breath?” she asked.
“The one who stinks like a Donkey.”
“Oh well,” Sinders mused, “It could be worse,” though she couldn’t really work out how.
“Ah Sinders you look so beautiful!” the short fat bald deaf one who stank like a Donkey simpered.
“No way, you are not doing that again. It took ages to get it out of my hair,” Sinders replied rapidly, “Straight or Anal that’s the choice.”
“But I just want a little wank,” the short fat etc bloke whined, “I have to save my strength for Prince Armin’s ball this evening.”
“What Prince Armin is going to take you up the ass?” she enquired innocently.
“No a dance, all the most beautiful girls will be there,” he explained.
“I won’t,” she said brightly, “So not all the most beautiful girls will be there.”
“No,” he agreed, “Would you like to go?”
“Not really, I have a full schedule for this evening,” she said.
“I have some spare tickets,” he said hopefully.
“No way,” Sinders replied, “I know what you’re after.”
“Just straight, one freebie, one little poke for a ticket?” he suggested.
“All right,” she replied, “Drop your Lederhosen you’ve wasted ten minutes wittering.”
And so the die was cast.
“Madame,” Sinders said five minutes later after the fat bald etc bloke came in his lederhosen, “I have a ticket for the Prince’s ball this evening, “Herr Hogsfardtsbreath gave it to me.”
“Is it a raffle!” simpered her friend Mimi as she waited for the next sad loser to roll up.
“Looks genuine,” Sinders replied.
“Oui,” Madame agreed, “Then you must go, leave some calling cards, write our address in lipstick on the walls it will be wonderful advertising.”
“Give a few free freebies as well,” Mimi suggested.
“But what will I wear!” Sinders exclaimed.
“As little as possible dear,” Madame suggested, “What about the kinky brides wedding dress and thigh booots?”
“They’ll never let me in,” Sinders said reasonably, “Its a sort of Fur coat and fairy princess thing.”
“Fur coat, Kinky wedding dress with the train cut off, silk knickers, high heels,” a customer drooled.
“Who asked you?” Mimi asked tetchily.
“Sounds good!” Sinders agreed.
“May Oui!” Madame agreed, “We must prepare, this could be our way into ze big time!”
So Sinders went to the Ball, actually no one even asked to see her ticket, Madame had done a fantastic job on her make up and she looked every inch the princess even down to her sheer silk stockings and silk panties, though the split crotch would have spoiled the illusion had anyone seen them.
She wandered around, she knew many of the guests, though they looked different with their trousers on, though they did not recognise her with her clothes on and she enjoyed confusing them by addressing them by name.
Finally she bumped into Prince Armin, quite literally as she dodged a drunken loser who tried to grope her left breast while holding a plate of sandwiches and a glass of Liebfraumilch in the same hand.
“Ohhhh,” she simpered, “Fancy a quickie?”
“Er, yes actually,” he replied, “Just looking at that serving wench has given me a stiffy and she looks rather busy.”
“Where?” Sinders asked.
“I don’t know,” Armin replied.
“Its your flaming Castle,” Sinders replied in exasperation.
“Oh, the servants quarters then, come with me,” he said seductively.
Sinders followed him down the corridor, “Actually fuck it, lets do it here in the corridor,” Armin said decisively.
“Good idea,” Sinders agreed, “Shall I bend over?”
“No stand on one leg against the door post like a serving wench so I can stick my tongue down your throat as I poke you,” he suggested.
Sinders was starting to think this was a really bad idea.
“Why don’t I just give you a little wank to calm you down?” she offered.
“Spill my seed?” he gasped, “Never, Nanny said I should go blind.”
“So you fucked nanny up the ass?” Sinders asked.
“Of course,” he agreed, “Now shut up spread your legs and lets get on with it.”
Sinders went into work mode, she visualised this handsom prince, but then realised this actually was a pretty hansom prince, she went to jiggle her thumb in her pussy to get ready but realised she was already wet. Her nipples were straining against her bodice, “Oh Fuck,” she thought, “This is seriously unprofessional.”
She felt her dress being lifted and his hands at her crotch. His fingers gently eased her cunt lips open. She lay back against the door post and let him do what he needed to.
His hand held her knee as he spread her wide and drove his sturdy member deep inside her, and then he kissed her full on the lips. His breath was sweet and his tongue sent fireflies rushing around her brain.
He began humping, Sinders waited for the tell tale signs of imminent ejaculation ready to pull away and let him cum on her belly but when they came she found she wanted him to spurt inside her.
“Fuck me, hump me, cum in me I want your babies!” she whispered.
“Oh hang on a minute, this is a quckie not the start of something special,” he replied.
“Well it is for me,” she replied as she squeezed his cock with her cunt muscles, “So shoot your load big boy.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake just let me cum on your belly,” he suggested.
“Oh no, that would be all sticky,” she replied, “Just shoot up my puss, you know you want to.”
“Actually no, I don’t want to,” he insisted, “I just, Owch!”
He wailed as Sinders thrust her thumb deep into his assen hole, the 10 centimeter thumb nail making it quite a memorable experience. “Oh fuck” He lost concentration and started pumping spunk and thought he would never stop.
“Oh that’s so nice, you can have a freebie anytime you like!” Sinders said eagerly, “We’re down AssenStrasse by the undertaker.”
“Ah, you have a friend called Colleen, dark hair, big boobies?” he asked.
“Er yes, she left a while ago,” Sinders admitted.
“She is in the dungeon, she overcharged me.” Armin explained, “And you made me cum inside you so perhaps you would like to renew your friendship?”
“Maybe not,” Sinders decided, “I better get on, loads of other punters waiting.”
“In that case next time cut your thumb nails,” he insisted, “I think I am bleeding.”
“Stuff next time, you can fuck Colleen,” Sinders insisted.
“No, there is always a queue of servants right along the passage,” he said sadly.
“Oh my heart bleeds,” Sinders exclaimed.
“Like my ass,” he laughed.
“Look no offence but I need to mingle, sort of get to know people, line up punters,” Sinders explained.
“Given up on me already?” he asked.
“Well I got you to spunk in me so I guess we’re done?” Sinders suggested.
“You like punters spunking in you?” he asked.
“Oh lord no,” she exclaimed, “Only good looking ones, I don’t want ugly children do I?”
“So I am good looking?” he asked, “Would you screw me for free if I was a poor wood cutter?”
“I’d marry you if you was a poor woodcutter,” Sinders admitted, “Live in the woods and have nineteen children.”
“I would like that, but I have to marry some old ugly princess so we don’t have to fight a war.” Armin admitted.
“That’s really tough but I have to fuck short, fat, bald, deaf morons with bad breath for a living,” Sinders complained.
“You coud be my mistress?” he suggested.
“Wow, now lets think about this,” Sinders replied, “Give up my steady job fucking all sorts especially disgusting low lifes and just fuck the most eligible bloke in the kingdom?”
“I was joking,” Armin explained.
“No, you’re on!” Sinders exclaimed. “Bed board and a couple of schillings a week and you have got a deal!”
“Er I was joking,” Armin repeated.
“Well I ain’t,” Sinders insisted, “Why I’ll tell everyone we’re engaged, see how the fat ugly Princess likes that!”
Sinders let her dress fall from around her waist and rushed back to the Ballroom.
“Prince Armin asked me to marry him!” she announced.
Princess Meghan gasped in amazement, she was supposed to be marrying Prince Armin, she was going to announce it that very evening and now it was all changed. “Mummy he is marrying someone else!” she said happily as she knew she was far too ugly and fat for anyone to love.
“Bollocks!” he mother snapped, “Who the hell are you?” she demanded of Sinders.
“I am Sinders from the whore house in AssenStrasse,” Sinders insisted.
“See he sleeps with whores!” Princess Meghan gasped.
“Make a good pair you two,” Her father sighed, “He sleeps with whores and you sleep with horses.”
“Mummy I told you that in confidence!” Meghan gasped.
Prince Armin dashed into the Ballroom, “I am not getting engaged to Sinders,” he insisted, “I am to ask Princess Meghan to marry me.”
“Get stuffed you whore chasing bean pole,” Meghan shouted, “Marry your bloody slut and make an honest woman of her.”
“Well dear it would help our public image if we had a commoner as a daughter in law,” Armin’s mother suggested to the king,”
King Harald was staring at Sinders boobies at the time, “Yes dear, well you can’t get much commoner than a whore.”
“What about the war?” Meghan’s mother demanded, “What about the marriage?”
“Bit short of the folding old bean,” King Harald suggested, “How about we reschedule for 1914?”
“Oh very well, late August after the Grouse shooting season would suit us.” Meghan’s mother suggested.
“Sounds good, so Armin gets married this year, Meghan next year?” King Harald suggested.
“Who to?” Meghan asked.
“Plenty of big lusty chaps on death row,” Meghan’s father suggested.
“We tried that and they preferred....” Meghan reminded him.
“Maybe you could marry a Horse?” he tried.
“Oh get stuffed daddy!” Meghan snapped, “Just as long as I can be chief bridesmaid then Armin can marry who the hell he wants!”
“Look I don’t want to marry Sinders!” Armin protested.
“Shut it, you screwed it you can wed it,” King Harald insisted, “We’ll make a fortune selling nugs with her mugshot on.”
“Actually,” Sinders chipped in, “I had some very good offers so maybe?”
“Maybe nothing, I now pronounce you man and wife, you may fuck the bride,” the Kind snapped.
“You can’t do that!” Armin insisted.
“Yes I can, I’m the fucking king!” King Harald snapped, “Get you kit off wench, people will pay good money to see this, and you Holbine, get painting!”
And so it was done, Armin standing with his cock drooping as Sinders tried desperately to suck it into life as the revellers looked and the court painter painted away.
“Oh stick a finger up his ass it works for me,” the King insisted.
“I tried earlier,” Sinders replied.
“Oh for gods sake let a man in,” King Harald insisted and he stormed across to where Sinders was sucking, dropped his lederhosen, pushed Sinders onto her back and rammed his meat deep inside her.
Who said fairy tales don’t have to have happy endings.
