by Eurydice (c) 1999

A Personal Fairytale

     Beauty met the Beast on a crystal path strewn with hollow silver hearts, one day when stiff gusts of wind stirred all the hearts into a storm, whirling them like clouds of dust.

     Beauty, who had just emerged fully grown from the egg of her mother, felt the heady perfume of her frail pudenda trickle down like a fertilizer on to the roused ground. At first Beauty thought the Beast was her twin who mirrored her physical abandon, her swaying hips, her swollen lips, and her delicate bodily scent of children's bedrooms.

     That night Beauty listened to the difficult dance of the Beast in the adjoining bed, then watched it erupt and pour glowing cum on their pink sheets next to the royal monogram.

      Afterward the Beast purred: "I am the mirror that doesn't reflect you back, every night I take a fresh maiden as my slave and a virgin boy as my wife, but now I give up my kingdom to be in you; so let us descend together the countless steps to my wet shrine, and remember not to speak, for I am blind and only silence guides my footsteps, and do not light our path with your beauty, for darkness is my ally."

     So Beauty faced the Beast in mortal battle for years, and on her face were seen erotic escapes, open umbrellas, monsters swimming around gilt hooks, smoking chandeliers, gleaming amoebas, but no images could cover and protect her naked little body from desire.

     In the end, after the blood dried and the ashes settled, it was impossible to know who had won; the survivor of that epic carnage of love was a new, unrecognizable creature.