Romantic Erotica, Art & Writings

Legend of Cinderella's Panties

I'm sure you've all heard that tale of Cinderella, many a time.   But did you know that was just the censored version, the g-rated version pushed by the Disney folk? The real tale is a lot more juicy.   The real Cinderella legend didn't involve her slippers, but rather her panties…
    As a matter of fact, the real Cinderella lived on this very isle, long, long ago.   And yes, she did travel to the ball in a rather fanciful, pumpkin shaped carriage pulled by horses.   And yes, she did catch the eye of the prince, and danced quite the dance with him.   But he soon whisked her away to one of the dark corners of the castle, and they sat and kissed so passionately all evening long.
     It wasn't just his tongue down her throat, it was also his hand up her skirts.   She wore a long, long skirt, but his hand managed to reach all the way up to her center, and over the course of the evening, rubbed her panties into a froth.  It's hard to resist a deft prince's hand, especially when he kisses you so passionately, — he eventually managed to slip her panties down her legs, where they fell to the floor before her, as evidence of what the two were up to.
     But then in the middle of a deep kiss, the clock struck midnight.   She instantly grew alarmed, her eyes so big in the dark, and she pushed herself away, then ran out of the palace.
    That prince was so confused.   He'd been pulling all his best moves, and she'd been moaning like she liked it.  But then she suddenly got up and ran out on him!  Women are hard to figure.  Even the handsome prince gets stood up and run out on, at times.   
      But he was really heartbroken.  No girl ever kissed so well, or grew so wet.   
      It was very dark in that castle corner, but the gleam of her white panties on the floor caught his eyes. She'd forgot them in her haste!
      He picked them up and sniffed them, and wow, what a scent!   They were drenched and creamy, full of her magical emanations.   The prince was hypnotized by her effluence.   He knew he'd never be happy until he found the owner of the panties.
      But it had been so dark, he wasn't sure he'd recognize her again, just walking down the street.    There were just a few candles in the ballroom, and none at all in the nook he'd taken her to.
      However, he resolved to find her.  He'd sniff her out from all the rest.   So over the next months, he set out to visit every humble hut of every maiden in the kingdom.  His carriage and entourage travelled all over the land, stopping at every cottage, and calling the maidens there in to come forth and line up before him.  He brought the sacred panties with him, for they were always in his pocket.  But he did not have the maids try them on for fit.  After all, there are many mid-size maids who could have fit them.    No, he was searching for the maiden whose effluence smelled like magic.   Every maiden's private smells are unique, a fingerprint of her soul.   And only one could match those panties.
     So the prince got on his knees, before each and every maiden of the kingdom, and stuck his head way, way up under her skirts.   For a real good sniff.
     Some girls, he knew right away: this ain't her.    Other girls, he'd have to burrow in and sniff a while.    
     The prince was a bit dismayed, after several moons of time, that he hadn't found her.    And then he came to the last, most humble cottage of the lot. Three stepsisters came out, but after a quick sniff, he realized they weren't her.   Then he spied their servant girl at the well, and she came over and offered the prince some water. So he sniffed her up too!
     And she was magic.   One sniff and he knew.   No cunt ever smelled this strong and ripe and wet before.   He couldn't take his nose away. So he simply stood up, lifting her with him on his nose, her long, long dress hanging down all around him.   And took her that way back to the carriage, and off to the palace.
    Where they lived happily ever after.
    And that's the real Cinderella tale, folks.
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