My entry for the Reluctant Princess contest.

~o~O~o~

Ah, to be a Magical Kingdom Princess. It's the dream of every little girl. But what if you're not little; what if you're not a girl?

~o~O~o~
“Mariel. Are you using protection?”

These are the first and only words I can remember hearing in quite a while. They come from the lips of a svelte and beautiful woman who appears to be … dabbing something on my face?!

“Wha … uh, where … ?”

“Where is your big secret date with that gorgeous human, Prince Derric? Remember,” - the woman’s voice fell to a whisper - ”you’re going to sneak off to the Coral Caves after you finish this concert for your father. But back to my question. I don’t know if landbound lads can get mermaids like us pregnant. But better safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

“Mermaids??” She’s close to my face, but now I push her away to see her and my surroundings.

She is a fish from the waist down! No legs, just a scaled tail with fins!

And we both appear to be – underwater! How the hell am I breathing?? And yet, I am.

“Mariel, please.” The fish-girl now appears a little frustrated with me. “You look great without any makeup, but you need to be SPECTACULAR tonight. I’ve got your squid-ink liner on, but I need to apply krill dye to your cheeks and lips to get you there. You may have caught that guy’s eye by just swishing your tail, but your father King Trident is not so easily impressed. Um, stay perfectly still. One of your push-up pads is showing.”

She grabs towards my chest and readjusts my shirt – wait, not a shirt but a restraint, or something like one?. Her hand sticks inside it and – YIKES! My nipple – it’s super sensitive! And squishy?! I look down to see – I have two generous scallop shells on my chest. What the heck??

“Why am I wearing seashells?” My voice tone is high and squeaky. Foreign to me.

The mermaid girl’s name is Anemone, at least according to a little electric name bar now appearing under her chin. She tilts her head and looks back at me with a confused grimace.

“Because B shells are too small and D shells are still way too big for you, princess. But don’t worry, you’re still growing.”

I sit, flummoxed, not knowing what to say or ask next. Annie (she says that’s her nickname) works at light speed, with hands flashing over my lips, my eyelids, my hair. In just seconds she backs away, smiling big while her undulating dorsal fin makes her hover in mid-air. I mean mid-water.

“Ta-daa! Look in the mother-of-pearl mirror. What do you think?”

I do look, hoping for answers or clarity. Those hopes explode into dust. I can’t recall what my natural face looks like exactly, but I see glimmers of it in the glassy reflection – just with a rounder and made-up face, billowing red hair, green eyes, and a mermaid’s bod, just like Annie. Except more voluptuous. I am amazed, confounded, and paralyzed mentally (and therefore physically too).

“I know, I know. I am after all an ar-teest,” brags Annie. “But with you as a canvas, I can do no wrong. Now out onto that stage, girl! The music for your song is starting!”

~o~O~o~

In a mere moment that seems more like a TV show than real life, I am out on a stage, looking out at an underground Carnegie Hall full of mermen and maids. In the center sits the guy who has to be King Trident – ‘cause he’s holding one. A trident, that is. By that I mean a monstrous spear-fork, not a piece of sugar free gum. The music swells and everyone turns to me in anticipation. I can’t sing. Never could. So they’re gonna be really disapp-

What is happening?? My mouth is moving, forming words I don’t remember learning or rehearsing. It’s musical, and it’s beautiful, if a little too sappy and romantic for my tastes. So I’ve decided, I’m just gonna relax and let this wild ride take me where it will; I don’t seem to be in control anyway.

Which of course is a cue for everything to go to hell.

Black smoky ink starts to flood in from the corners of the stage, and all at once a devilish woman – half obese hag, half black octopus – storms onto stage, approaching me with rage dripping from her face. Trident stands, but he’s moving too slowly to stop her. I’m a dead man. Woman. Fish-woman. Whatever, I’m as good as dead. Wait! This is jogging memories in me now. I have to be in a dream. This is like the plot of that animated classic, the little … the little swimmer? Why can’t I think?

Here comes Simone – that’s what octo-lady’s electric name badge says – but now instead of anger, I see tears and pain in her eyes. She grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me as she bawls –

“This! Jackson, switch me into this NOW!”

A harpoon shoots into the stage floor, barely missing Simone. We all look up. It’s a man – a really handsome dude – not a half fish. He’s holding his breath as he points toward the octo-gal and then swims off quickly.

Simone intently looks into my eyes. “I have to follow him – I can’t fight the program. If you can, then do so – look for the grotto, and dive into the treasure chest. I’ll meet you in the next scenario. As soon as you can!” She then swims off to follow the dude, sobbing all the way.

“Shut down the show! Everyone to safe quarters – that means YOU, Mariel!” booms King Trident. “Guards! Follow me – we must apprehend Simone!” He then blows a hole in the roof of the theater with his magic superfork, and swims out to follow the villain.
I am swimming out of the stage area, wondering where my safe quarter is. Then I feel a tapping on my shoulder; it’s Annie.

“Honey, now’s the time to scoot to the Coral Caves. There’s a huge air pocket bedroom there, and Prince Derric is waiting for you!”

My head is spinning. “But didn’t he just lead that crying evil octopus woman out?”

“Yes; he’s already beaten her! Now hurry; his bed ready and waiting! Don’t your loins ache for his fullness?”

“Um … no? Look – I don’t know why everyone’s calling me princess. I didn’t ask for this; I don’t want this. I think that I’m supposed to be a ‘loin-filler’, not a ‘fillee’.

Annie is smiling at me as if she hasn’t listened to a word. “Hurry, princess! He awaits!”

I have my hand up in a “STOP” gesture. “Forget this. Someone show me where the grotto is!”

~o~O~o~

Okay.

I’m thinking that I’m in the “next scenario”. Because I did the dive into the treasure chest in that underwater cave, and now I’m lying on my back in a four-poster bed. Sitting bolt upright, I reach for my bod with my hands – dammit, there’s boobs and no junk and so obviously I’m still a chick. And I’m wearing – a tiara and a gauzy, near-sheer thing that a girl might call a nightie but really is a pre-sex wrapping. At least there’s no one else here to see me in this. No one but that tall green-skinned hell goddess with large curly horns standing on my left – I’m just noticing her now. And again there’s that feeling: I’m a dead ma – er, princess.

Instead of killing me, the green lady sighs. “At last you’re awake, Aurosa; looks like my kiss did the trick.”

“What? You mean you kissed me while I was –“

“Sleeping. Yes. Haven’t you figured this out yet? All of these scenes are from the classic animated films by Waaault Di- kkk!!

“Walt Dick??”

Millicent – that’s her name on the ‘lectric tag – coughs hard three times, then catches her breath. “The program obviously won’t let me say his name right. The creators didn’t get official copyrights before making this adventure; that’s why even our names are a little – or a lot – off.”

“Hey … I think I remember this one. A handsome prince kisses the Sleeping Beau – kkk!!”

“See? It won’t let you say the title.”

“So … I’m not into kissing guys, since I am one usually in real life, I guess. I’m having trouble remembering that life. But the women I like to kiss are horny in a much different way from you. So why isn’t this like the movie?”

“Actually, it is the way that the live action movie went; the witch kisses the girl, and it’s her kiss that breaks the eternal sleep. The prince tried to wake you, but it takes a true love kiss, and his didn’t work. After you got pricked –“

“He put his prick into me?? While I was asleep?”

“No! Your finger got pricked by a cursed spindle; that’s what put you to sleep.”

“Okay; so his kiss didn’t work, but yours did. Does that mean that you’re a lesbian? Why was your kiss a ‘true love’ one, instead of just foreplay?”

Millie smirks. “Everything’s about sex, right? I can see why you paid your fare for this fantasy. I’ll bet you’re supposed to be the hero guy in each scene, who gets to plow the princess; somehow you got placed into the ‘bottom’ role. And I got the bad guy parts – I don’t even get to have ‘top’ sex. What a screw-up! Definitely asking for a refund. As for ‘true love’ – well, I do love you. I love your character. I wanted to be her so bad …” She’s getting wet eyes now, just like when she was Simone.

I shake my head as I cover my breasts and groin with my hands. “Still wrapping my head around this – but I don’t need to understand this as much as I need an extraction. Get me out of this nightmare!”

Millie frets. “Can’t find an abort code. But if we get to the transfer points, we can speed through the rest of the tales quickly and be done. The point for us now is … there! In the thicket of thorns, see?” She points out the window towards a shimmering oval in the middle of a forest of pointy sharp plants.

Next thing I know the witch is flying me – yes, I said she flies, with big giant raven wings – to the transfer point, and we both dive in.

~o~O~o~

The first thing I do when the bright lights fade is search for a mirror of some sort. There’s one there, on the wall. I’m still female, but with jet black hair, a poofy-shouldered gown, and I swear the palest skin I’ve ever seen. A real porcelain princess. And now a gruesome face fills the mirror, and speaks to me?!

“Hello, fairest of them all.”

Another voice now comes from the doorway of this room I’m in. “Hi-ho. We’re off to work now, Bleach.” It’s a short dude, with about six other short dudes behind him, all carrying pick-axes. I check out their names. Medic, Shy, Sniffy, Joy, Grouchy, Yawny, and DD.

“DD?” I ask.

“Short for Developmentally Delayed. Don’t be insensitive, Bleach,” scolds Medic.

Craning my neck down, I see my own name tag: Bleach White. Oh come on. Copyrights may have forced someone’s hand, but that’s just lazy. Looking back up, the little dudes are already gone out the door.

So what now? Do I look by myself for the next transfer point, or try to find the old hag who’s supposed to be the bad guy? I sit down to decide, and something (I guess the program) starts me whistling. Suddenly a throng of birds and critters are in the room – making the bed, sweeping the floor, dusting the cabinets. Now THIS I wish I could take back with me to my regular life. Whatever that is/was.

“HELP!! PRINCESS FAIREST-OF-ALL, HELP ME!!”

That screaming is coming from the front yard, which I’ve now rushed out into. I do see an old hag, tied to a tree; a ruggedly good-looking hombre is holding a knife to her throat and snarling. There’s a dark, shiny apple lying on the ground between them.

Old Hag sees me now, and winces as the tip of the blade dents the skin of her neck. “I can’t die in this simulation! Stop him!”

The “handsome prince” turns, and his visage changes from fury to relief as he runs to me. “Oh, milady! I feared this sorceress had already poisoned you, and I meant to kill her and then kiss you to awaken you!”

“No killing of anybody today, okay buddy?” I look at his hand. “Umm … you’re still holding your knife. How come?”

“Why, so we can play, my sweet.” Now he looks like he’s lust personified, drooling and grinning with an evil leer. In a flash the knife has cut my dress ties, and I’m in medieval undies only as the rest of my clothes fall to my feet. He holds the knife to my neck now. “A little danger makes the mating that much more exciting, yes?”

Suddenly two gnarled and bent fingers dripping with some sort of liquid wipe across my assaulter’s lips. His head jerks back and he chokes out only one word: “WHAT?”

“Poison apple juice. I scraped some under my fingernails. Only takes a drop,” cackles the old hag, now coming out from behind Prince Rape. He begins convulsing and quickly drops to the ground, as still as death. Hag shakes her head. “Sorry. I was waiting in the bushes until the dwarves left. This guy seems like he showed up way too early in the story. Something’s wrong with this whole set up, something beyond just us being in the wrong roles.”

“Speaking of roles … you wanted to be the princess, right?”

“I wanted to be ALL of them – and to make love to each handsome prince. I’m a divorced 35-year-old woman in regular life. I wanted the ultimate adult experience, where I could sow some wild oats and not have to worry about emotional entanglements or STD’s later. And they said there was a guy my age who was signing up to be the prince – er, princes. The computer would provide the other characters.”

I have a realization. “I think I’m the guy who was supposed to be in the prince roles. I remember making that choice. So – if you’re the villains, and I’m the princesses, who is this guy?” I say as I point to the comatose dude at my feet.

“I dunno. An NPC? He sure seemed sinister, though. I never signed up for a BDSM or rape scenario. Too bad – he’s actually pretty hot.”

“Yeah, he is,” I hear myself whisper. I mean, he is. Chiseled chin with a Kirk Douglas dimple in the middle, ripped arm and torso muscles pulling at his way-too-tight shirt, and a generous bulge below his belt buckle. God, what love we would have made if he just wasn’t a psycho.

WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST THINK??

“We’ve got to get out of here,” I say to Hag. “I think this role mistake is having a very wrong effect on me.”

“Okay. Is there a mirror anywhere? Per the pre-induction pamphlet I read, those usually make good portals.”

“Back in the cabin.” I turn one last glance to my would-be molester. “Have fun waiting for anyone to come and give you a true love kiss, buddy. Maybe Grouchy will take a shine to you after a while.” I then run inside to the mirror.

~o~O~o~

And in an instant I’m dancing – like ballroom style. Me and the Prince – a new one – are cutting a rug in the middle of a palace, surrounded by partygoers all dressed to the nines. I know this movie. Let’s cut to the chase; I pull away from my partner and yell:

“STEPMOTHER! WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Over here, Rindercella!” comes a woman’s voice from the entrance.

I break in a run towards her; she pushes through the crowd and grabs my hand. Dammit, my slipper just came off. Like in the story. We run out the entrance and towards my personal coach with driver and horses. I hear the great clock of the palace starting to ring; it’s seconds from midnight. I’m frustrated and desperate for all this to be over. “Where’s the portal?”

“Milady, will you not be consorting with Prince Hank this evening? You cannot leave until one minute after midnight,” queries my coachman.

“Over here,” says Stepmom. “This puddle of water should serve as a mirror; let’s see if it starts to glow.”

The clock hits the twelfth ring, and my entourage turns to mice and a big gourd.

“The glow’s starting. Should be able to jump in any second now,” says I.

Stepmom grins. “Your character right now is lousy at sports.”

“Huh? Why is that?”

“Because her coach is a pumpkin, and she’s always running away from the ball.”

“Ouch,” I groan as we jump into the glowing portal puddle.

~o~O~o~

The next place we come to in is a great cave full of treasure. What, no mirror? I look down - I’m wearing a billowing outfit that covers all except head, hands, feet and midriff. With me is a cute little monkey on my right shoulder; on my left, a loud and blaring parrot that starts to talk. “Aw, you gotta be kidding me! Now I’m not even the bad guy; I’m the bad guy’s sidekick!” His nametag says Inigo. “And not only that, but it’s – oh, wow. Princess Jazz. You’re the sexiest ‘you’ yet,” he squawks.

“Keep your head in the game, bird. Where’s the way out?”

“Beats me. This is all wrong. The parrot and the princess were never in this place in the movie! Where’s Alad – kkk! **koff koff** - ow, that hurt. And where’s the monkey?”

“Right here, on my other shoul – wait, where’d he go?”

“Oh no. He’s reaching for that forbidden gem over there!”

“MONKEY! DON’T TOUCH THAT!”

Inigo flies off, then flies back with an ancient lamp in his claws. He drops it into my hands. “Jazz! Rub it! Hurry!”

I do. The next words I hear are “Oy! Ten thousand years will give you such a crick in the neck!”

The monkey has grabbed the stupid gem, and a wave of lava is heading towards us; meanwhile, the Genie has begun to explain the provisos, the quid pro quos of wishes.

“SAVE IT! GENIE I WISH ME AND THE PARROT TO BE TRANSFERRED TO THE NEXT SCENARIO NOW NOW NOW!”

~o~O~o~

“God. That was close. How many more damn scenarios are there?” I’m in a yellow ball gown, inside a huge room in what I assume is a huger mansion.

“Hullo, Princess Bella,” growls a huge monstrous beast, a cross between a wolf and a bull. In fact, the nameplate says Bullwolf. “It’s me, your villain. Sheesh. At least I still got to be a girl in the first three scenes. Now I’m a male – and extremely ugly. I’m ready for this to be over.”

“Wait,” I object. “Isn’t the guy from the village – the big bully – the true villain of this tale?”

“For most of the movie, I’m the bully, the enemy. Who knows. This is the role the program assigned for me. We’re at the whim of that stupid computer, while our bodies lie in water-filled sensory deprivation tanks, and they manipulate us with pheromones, light, smells and so forth. God, I am so gonna sue Jackson and his whole team when this is over. Until then I get to be a monster.” My friend the beast now starts to cry.

“Hey. Heyyyy.” I come over and stroke his hairy arm. “Hang in there. You’ve been my only friend in all of this, and I so appreciate what you’ve done for me. If not for you, I would have endured a nightmare of unwanted penetrations, and at least one guy who threatened to cut me. We’re gonna make it out of here. And we’ll make Jackson – whoever that is – pay for this awful day. Now let’s go find that last portal.”

“30 rooms in this damn mansion and not one mirror – even in the bathrooms. What’s the deal?” I’m really fuming as I head back to the library to meet Bullwolf as we agreed.

“I had a convo with the computer,” the beast says. “This is the final scenario. Seems it won’t release us until we go completely through this script, since neither of us have achieved the goal of actual sexual activity with orgasm, which was the stated reason we both gave for doing this.”

My mental gears are whirring. “So I’m gonna have to come before it lets me out? Could I just do myself in the bathroom?”

“Hey! I didn’t think of that. Try it. See if it works!”

“Umm … I know how to do it with my penis. With my current equipment, I’ve never done it.”

“Come on. You’ve given a girl a finger job in the real world, right?”

“Yeah, of course. But I’ve never given myself one. It creeps me out a little bit that I’m gonna reach down there and not feel any of my usual junk. And … to be totally honest, I’m scared.”

“Scared? Of touching a vagina? If you’d been put in the right role, you’d have been doing that all day today – just on the princesses, not yourself.”

“EXACTLY. I’m scared that if I do myself like this … that I’ll like it too much!”

Bullwolf’s jaw drops; this news is just as stunning to him as it is to me. He deserves to hear about what’s going on in my head now. “I’ve been turned on since the Bleach White scene. Maybe – probably – it’s all due to the programming or the pheromones or whatever. I just know that right now it’s all I can do NOT to touch myself. I’m dreaming of touching it … and I’m starting to dream of what it could feel like with someone else’s finger or even (god help me) a prick! What if I do and find I can’t live without it? What if I turn into a tranny?”

“My god. This screw up is really messing with you in a huge way. Let’s just go through the script to the end except for the sex and see if we can leave at that point.”

An animated candlestick with a face – named Luminari – hops in to the room, and looks panicked. “Master,” he says in a thick French accent, “ze gates – zey are being stormed; we are attacked!”

I can see through the window; a lynch mob from the town is marching down the front grounds, and a big-muscled brute named “Garcon” looks to be leading it. “Bullwolf – what do we do now?”

He looks at me with the saddest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. “Go find a safe room to take cover, Bella. I’ll face this dude and deal with him. Shouldn’t be too hard for a hideous freak monster like me.”

~o~O~o~

I hide in the adjoining bedroom as I hear Bullwolf and Garcon tangle in a mighty battle. Glass and wood is shattering, and the conflict spills out onto the roof. Meanwhile the mansion’s servants (cursed to live as furniture and kitchenware) are engaging the rest of the mob downstairs; our troops are winning, per the noise and cheers.

Bullwolf’s not faring as well – he’s struggling halfheartedly against his blowhard foe. I remember now what he said when she was the Old Hag: something about how she can’t die in this game. My god! Does dying in the game mean dying in real life?? He’s risking everything – for me! I have to stop this, now!

I climb out a window and struggle to lift myself onto an eave of the roof. There they are, Garcon with a bow and knife and my guy with his teeth and claws. But he looks so sad, and slow – this day has drained the life and hope out of him, I think. I have to do something, but I’m fifty yards away.

“BULLWOLF! FIGHT BACK, BABY! I KNOW YOU CAN DO THIS! YOU CAN’T DIE ON ME, NOW; I NEED YOU TO FIGHT, TO WIN! RIGHT NOW YOU’RE EVERYTHING TO ME!”

The monster looks over at me, and seems to draw life from my words; he suddenly grows taller and bigger, with a face now filled with resolve and confidence. That is until one second later, when Garcon stabs him in the side. Just like in the movie, the human cad then loses his footing and falls to his death. My big beast just slumps over on the roof and lies still.

“NOOO!” I step carefully and quickly to the roof where Bullwolf is lying. There’s an open window just to the side of him; I pull him with all my might, but can’t budge him to it. He opens his eyes and gives one last surge to help us get there. I recognize this room; there’s a magical dying flower with just one petal hanging on, representing the time left before the beast and castle curse is irreversible. But it’s all a moot point, because my lovely beast is dying. I bury my face into his shirt, and bawl. “Don’t … don’t leave me … I love you!”

I continue to weep on my dead hero’s chest for a few eternal minutes when I realize that HE’s glowing, and levitating now. Has he become a portal? But no – he slowly loses his beastly shape, and transforms into a young man – a gorgeous, cut hunk of a man. Looks well hung, too (of course my current hormone rage made me look there). The last of the changes include healing of the stab wound and opening of his eyes. “B – Bella? You … you broke the curse, you brought me back!”

“Oh baby – I thought I’d lost you!” I look into his blue eyes; I’ve never wanted a kiss so bad in my life. He nears his lips towards mine, and we merge – first cautiously, then with passionate hunger. I can feel his fullness pushing against my tiny waist.

Luminari – now with the curse broken he’s a manservant again – rushes in to check on us, assesses the situation in a half second, then turns back to the hallway. “Ev’ree one out! Leeve zem alone! Go to your quarters – except you, Babette. YOU meet me in my room, he he he!” he snickers as he shuts our door.

“God, I want you so bad,” whispers my beast-man. “Does that scare you?”

“Shut up and take me,” I breathe.

~o~O~o~

I’m walking into Industrial Row here near the Houston ship channel. Back to where I had my Magical Kingdom Sensual Experience; it’s been two months since that fateful day. I felt I was in a nightmare rather than a dream then, until the very end. Oh my, what an ending it was. Now here I am, holding Eloise’s hand as we enter the office.

Eloise – that’s the real-life name of the girl who was my friend through all those scenarios. We’re a couple now; we moved in together six weeks ago, and how glorious life has been since then. We both love sex (duh – that’s why we originally signed up for the Experience) and love on each other daily; but more than that, she’s my soulmate. So why are we back here at MKSE? Well …

“John and Eloise! Right on time. We’re all ready for you.”

“Hello, Jackson,” my lover replies. “So, will Newman be involved with any part of our scenario today?”

“Ahem. Mr. Newman no longer works for us here at MKSE. After his horrible mistake of miscasting you two, I threw him out on his ear. Again, I’m so sorry about that. And I’m so thankful that you agreed to let us give you more experiences here to recompense you for your trauma, rather than – ahem – getting lawyers involved.”

“Just make sure we get exactly what we’re asking for from here on out, Jackson,” says I. “And hey; a question. What happens if the villain kills either one of us in the simulation? If someone dies in the game, do they die in real life?”

“Why, no. If you die in the simulation, it ends the experience and you exit without completing the other stages. Dying in real life? Whatever gave you that idea?”

I turn and give Ellie a stankface look even while I’m grinning wide.

“Hey,” she replies with a blush, “When I said I can’t die, I meant I wanted to stay in the game, get my money’s worth. Guess I should have explained that better.”

Jackson pulls back a curtain. “Over here are your two sensory deprivation flotation tanks. As before, we need all clothes off; you’ll wear a temporary gown while we attach the video visors and start the intravenous drips, then disrobe fully after you’re in the tank. Any questions?”

We both shake our heads “no”.

“Good. Let’s go over who has which role, just to make sure we get it right this time. Eloise, you’ll do the princess roles, while John does the hero/prince roles. Correct?”

Ellie holds up a finger. “Umm … “

~o~O~o~

I’m standing in a small circular room, near a lone window. Something is pulling on my hair. “Ow! That hurts!”

See, now that Ellie and I are together, we satisfy each other nearly totally when it comes to intimacy. No simulation can come close where we can take each other – she as my girl, me as her guy. Except there’s one twist that we miss; one big reason we’re back getting another day at the MKSE here.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Rapunstel,” I hear a voice yell from outside, “Look out the window!”

I do, and when I look down I see I must be in the top of a tall castle tower. My long blonde hair must be hanging down at least forty feet towards the ground – and a handsome knave is using it as a rope to climb to me?!

“Ellie! That’s you down there, right?”

“Shh! Come on, Rapunstel, stay in character! Yes, it’s me, but my name is Flynnt!”

“Hurry and climb up here; this is hurting my scalp!”

“Babe – didn’t you see the movie? You have magic hair – just lift me up to you!”

Well, whaddaya know. I do have magic hair. In a second I have my beau in my boudoir. I release my tresses from him, then put my hands on my hips and smirk. “You’re lucky you came when you did, my prince. I was considering getting a bob cut.”

He’s already panting. “Milady – you’re stunning.”

I’ve glanced at my body in the mirror; he’s right. “And you’re super handsome. But I have good looks AND magic hair. What else are you bringing to the table?”

I can tell Flynnt likes to meet a challenge. He strides towards me with a swagger and grabs me by the shoulders, pulling my face to him. “I,” he whispers, “have the magic to turn a dry crevasse into a lush, moist valley.” He then touches his lips to mine; I feel his rippling muscles on his back and arms, and sense that glorious bulge of his again pressing into my waist. And I feel a response in my nether region.

**GASP**! “Ohhh, prince Flynnt … you do have that magic!”

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

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