A Demented Fairytale: Part Eight

A Demented Fairytale: Part Eight
(Parts 1-7 can be found here.)

Cinderella straddled James, riding him like the Arabian stallion she'd had before her father lost it in a rigged game of Three Card Monty. As she stared down at him through eyes glazed over with passion, he gripped her hips and said "Wake up woman, I wanna see if the rabbit had to suck off what's-his-face." Huh? Crap. Cinderella opened one eye and realized with mortification that she'd been having a lurid dream about someone she claimed to dislike. Worse yet, that very same person was staring at her and likely wondering what she had been moaning about in her sleep.

"What were you dreaming about just then?" James asked with interest. Cinderella sat up in her cot and busied herself with fixing the bedclothes. "Nothing," she replied, "I never dream."
"Okay," James said. "You know you said my name out loud right?"
"Why would I do that," she asked lamely, hoping she sounded at least a little convincing. James winked at her and strolled out of the room. Cinderella glared after him, wondering why the more attractive a man was, the more annoying he was.

Entering the living room, Cinderella noticed two things at once. First, that the nude painting of Prince Dimwit had been finished in a magical amount of time. And second, that Rabbit was slumped in a corner of the room, looking more traumatized than the sheep Bo Peep had sold once to a group of rather shady-looking farmhands. Deciding anything was preferable to having to peruse Dimwit's naked form, she walked over to Rabbit and asked him if he was okay. Then regretted it of course.

"Am I okay you ask," Rabbit sputtered. "No no no. No, I'm not."
"What happened," Cinderella asked, "Did you have to um... 'fluff' anything?" She stroked his back sympathetically.
"No," Rabbit said. "But it was still bad."
"What are you complaining about then? Whatever it was, it could have been a lot worse."
"You think??" Rabbit said. "Red's little blue pills wore off, but I couldn't bring myself to do the job. So His Highness the Dumbass got some palm oil and took care of it himself."
"Then what's the big deal?" Cinderella asked.
"The big deal is that he was supposed to just keep it up. But he took care of it a little too much, then couldn't find a towel. So he picked ME up and wiped himself off with me."
"Oh God eeew--" She immediately stopped petting him.
"What if I have the French pox?" Rabbit asked in a panic. "Can I get the pox this way? Is there such a thing as fur pox? Can you get pox of the fur?" He started gasping for air, as if shortness of breath was the first symptom of Wipingly Transmitted Diseases.
"Relax," Cinderella said, hoping to calm him. "I'm sure you're pox-free. But why didn't you clean yourself off?"
Rabbit looked appalled. "You realize that rabbits wash themselves like cats do right?"
Unable to stop herself, she took a closer look and noticed that a section of his fur was pretty matted and smelled strongly of bleach. Cinderella gagged. "Um... be right back." Running from the room, she headed towards the bedroom and the pitcher of water it contained. The kitchen was also an option. Perhaps sticking her hand in boiling water would remove the not-so-fresh feeling.

When she returned to the living room after an hour of scrubbing her hand with a scouring brush, Rapunzel had busted out a huge barrel with a tap in it, filled with honey wine. Apparently, one of her "models" was the son of a brewer. Rapunzel looked up as she walked in, and gestured to it. "Grab a mug and help yourself, I forgot to tell you guys that we don't have any food."
"No food?" Cinderella echoed.
"Yeap, no food. One of my um, friends, is the town grocer. But he doesn't come by until tomorrow morning. So until then we have mead!" Cinderella looked over at her traveling companions, who had managed to get themselves three sheets to the wind in the short time she was gone. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had a liquid dinner. Or lunch. Or even breakfast really. Filling up her mug, she quickly downed it and filled up another. She had some catching up to do.

Prince Dimwit produced one of his gold coins and suggested they play "Heads or Tails." He would flip it and if it was heads, the women would chug half a cup of mead. If it was tails, the men would. Rabbit was already out cold and presumably dreaming of a world in which he wasn't covered with the dried sperm of the stupidest human being on the planet. The women agreed and the game was on. Two hours later, Prince Dimwit was passed out next to Rabbit on the couch (who wouldn't be too thrilled in the morning) and Rapunzel was in her bedroom, heaving the contents of her stomach into a chamber pot. Which left Cinderella and James, for all intents and purposes, alone and drunk in the living room.

Cinderella looked over at James, knowing what was on his mind. "Five years huh?"
"Five long years. But even if it hadn't been that long, I would still want you."
Cinderella rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you can do better than that."
"Not really, my mind isn't working anymore. And I'm having trouble pronouncing my words. It's like those last ten cups of wine made me hard, shut my brain off and turned my tongue 4 inches thick."
"Hmmm. The perfect man."
"Ha ha" James said sarcastically.
"Give me one good reason why I should sleep with you." Cinderella said, taking yet another drink. Might as well pretend to make him work for it, though it had pretty much been a foregone conclusion since she met him. He was funny, attractive, clean, had all his teeth and obviously took pains to remain disease-free. A lot better than the first and only guy she'd ever slept with, who was a sweet guy, but not overly acquainted with soap.

James thought for a bit in response to her request. "Well, one reason is that it's been so long for me, I won't even be able to tell if you're bad at it. It'll automatically be the best I've ever had. Forever. That's just it. Nothing else will ever compare, to the first time I had sex again after five long years."
Cinderella laughed. "I think you've closed the deal," she said. "I'll sleep with you just so I don't have to hear the words 'five long years' ever again." And, she thought to herself, because he was pretty damn hot. And clean. That was important.