312. Prince Not-So-Charming
“Why, certainly!” exclaims Amy, giddy as a school girl. The prince drops to one knee and extends the shoe heel-first to Amy. Amy pulls off her boot and sock and, nervously biting her lip, slips her foot in.
It's a perfect fit! Amy is overjoyed as the prince (HER prince!) looks up at her, smiling.
“I knew it was you! I knew you were the one!” He stands up, holds her in his arms, and kisses her. Amy melts in his embrace. She feels an electric energy from his lips that simultaneously energizes and enervates her. She is alive with the possibilities of the new life she knows is around the corner, yet wants nothing more than for this moment to last forever.
After an eternity of bliss, the prince pulls away. “Please, be with me. Return with me to my castle and become my queen.” He smiles softly at her, and Amy knows there can only be one answer to his question.
“Yes, oh yes, my prince...”
“Please, call me Charming.”
He reaches down and hoists Amy up, carrying her in his arms out of the ballroom, out of the portrait gallery, through the Grand Hallway, and out the front door, where a stately golden carriage awaits, drawn by four identical white stallions. Prince Charming opens the door and gently sets Amy down on one of the seats, then sits opposite her. Soon the carriage is underway. The journey lasts for hours, but it seems to be over in minutes as Amy stares dreamily into her prince's eyes.
The carriage stops and everything happens in a blur. The enormous castle, the stately bedroom, and then a hazy night of passion and a deep sleep...
The next morning.
Amy wakes up, bleary. Her back and various other body parts ache. She smells a somewhat unpleasant odor, not unlike rotten fish sticks. She's lying on a mattress on the floor, under a ratty blanket. She takes a look at the mattress and wishes she hadn't; it's covered in stains, some of them sweat, others of a nature she'd prefer not to contemplate. She sits up and the blanket falls off her chest, revealing bare breasts. She quickly covers them again and takes a peek under the blanket. She's totally naked.
“Ugh. What did I do last night?”
Amy takes in her surroundings. She is in a messy apartment that reeks of dude. Sunlight streams in through a pair of filthy windows that look like they haven't been washed since they were first installed. The floor is covered with dirty men's clothing. A few pieces of clothing are modern, but most of them look like elaborate royal finery from a fairy tale.
“That's weird, how did I...” And then it comes rushing back to her. The woods, the mansion, her quest, the ballroom, the prince, last night... She winces as she remembers the events of last night. But everything looks so different than it did before. Where's the castle? The stately bedroom? Her Prince Charming?
FFFFFFTTTT!!!! As though on cue, Amy hears a loud passing of gas from the bathroom.
“Ugh.” She awkwardly stands up from the mattress, still unwieldy from a poor night's sleep and unused to getting up from such a low position. Searching the room, she finds her heart-print panties hanging from a post on a tarnished mirror and her black t-shirt in a crumpled pile on the floor. She hurriedly puts on both, then goes to the bathroom to try and start her morning routine.
The prince comes out of the bathroom just as she reaches the door. He looks down, avoiding eye contact as he silently pushes past her. Just looking at his face revives a flood of memories that Amy had hoped to forget.
The first disappointment of the night came when he unlaced his trousers and exposed his manhood to her. That night Amy learned that looks can be deceiving, particularly where a codpiece is involved. The prince's royal scepter was much shorter and narrower than Amy had been led to believe it would be.
Once in bed, the pair had gotten straight down to business. No foreplay except what Amy could manage to perform on herself with her left hand while giving Prince Charming what felt like the world's longest blow job. All the time, the Prince complained.
“If you were any good at this, I'd already be hard!” he whined. Amy would have retorted, but her mouth was full. “Also, it wouldn't hurt if your tits were bigger. You're giving me nothing to work with.”
Finally, Amy managed to coax the prince's flag to full-mast, and he immediately moved his member down to Amy's southern region (though Amy had to first make it abundantly clear that any other holes were strictly off-limits). In contrast to the marathon fellatio session, the intercourse was incredibly brief. The prince pumped hard for about thirty seconds, with no sense of Amy's rhythm and no attempt made to stimulate her clitoris. Amy mentally gave Prince Charming an F in cocksmanship.
After a brief, awkward jack-hammering, the Prince quickly pulled out. “I'm gonna come!” he shouted, then quickly repositioned himself to sit on Amy's chest and, before Amy could protest, blew his load straight into her face. Disgusted, Amy wiped the Prince's surprisingly abundant spunk from her face and chest.
At this memory, Amy is pulled from her reverie and looks in the filthy bathroom mirror where, to her disgust, she notes that her face still has some of the prince's dried-on leavings from the night before. She washes her face as she returns to her recollection of her night with the Prince.
After he finished, Prince Charming rolled off of her and collapsed onto the mattress next to her. Amy tried to salvage the night and a scrap of dignity by suggesting a little reciprocity.
“Hey, so, since I spent so long going down on you, maybe you could return the favor? I'm super turned on,” she lied, “and I should be able to finish really quickly.”
“Snoooooooooore!” A closer inspection revealed that the prince was already asleep. She tried rousing him by jostling his shoulder, but the Prince just rolled away from her in reply.
Amy lay back, crossed her arms, and fumed quietly. She contemplated trying to finish herself off on her own, then decided that, in order to be finished off, one really should have been started up in the first place. The Prince had manifestly failed to do that. She rolled over and decided to get some sleep, a task made more difficult by the prince's constant snoring.
Returning to the present, Amy looks around the bathroom. Filthy sink. One toothbrush. Comb littered with black hairs. Toilet seat up, with the bowl stained brown. The shower is covered in rings and stains and the tiles are black with mildew. The drain is clogged with black hairs.
Utterly disgusted, Amy wanders back to the bedroom where Charming is mostly dressed. Now he's wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, still looking surprisingly handsome despite the jerk Amy knows him to be. Amy decides to break the silence.
“So... About last night...”
The prince smiles at her winningly, “Yeah, that was totally awesome, you were just amazing. But I've got stuff I need to do. I'd make you breakfast, but I'm all out of eggs. And speaking of, I'm a bit tight on cash so I borrowed some money from your wallet. I figured you wouldn't mind.”
Amy, incensed, is about to tell the prince she does mind, but can't get a word out before Charming continues.
“Hey, so, last night was great and all, but I'm gonna need you out of here pretty quick.”
Charming stands up and grabs Amy's shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes.
“Look, babe, I've got something to tell you. First, I totally am a prince. But some of the things you saw last night might have been a bit less than true...”
Amy tries to conceal her utter lack of shock at this revelation.
“The thing is, with the fall of the monarchy, I'm not nearly as rich or powerful as I used to be. Eternally young and handsome, natch.” He takes the opportunity to gaze lovingly at his reflection in the mirror, “But I've had to rent this pad here in Syracuse.”
Amy is confused. “But last night...”
“I have a few magic powers, sort of hypnotic. It works to make people see what they'd like to see. Let me guess, you thought this was a glass shoe?” He grabs a worn black plastic pump. It's very cheaply made, probably from Payless.
Amy gulps. “Y-yeah...”
“Yeah, they all do. Let me tell you, if Walt Disney were still alive, I would shake his hand and buy him a beer. That guy has gotten me SO much pussy over the years. Every little girl grows up wanting to be Cinderella, or Sleeping Beauty, or nowadays Ariel or Belle or Rapunzel. Then they meet me and BAM! The panties just melt.”
Amy blushes, simultaneously embarrassed and enraged. Who is this guy to exploit girls' dreams? Who is this guy to exploit HER dreams?
“Anyhow,” the prince is now sitting in a metal folding chair, the only place to sit in the apartment, putting on some knee-high boots, “We're done here, so you should be moving along.”
Amy tries to think of some retort, some way of putting this cad in his place, but can't. He got her and there's nothing to do about it but learn from the experience.
As he heads for the door, Charming turns around for one last word. “Oh, so, I know I gave you a facial last night, but this has happened before so I thought I should warn you. My sperm is, like, SUPER potent, so just the pre-come may have possibly gotten you pregnant. If it did, I am totally, 100% cool with you getting an abortion. I can't pay for it or anything, but I'm entirely on-board with your right to choose and shit.”
Amy's mouth hangs agape at this last bit. She searches for something to throw at him, but he's out the door before she can find anything. Then she decides to steal something from the cad, but there's nothing of value in the apartment. Heck, there's barely anything that she even wants to touch. Amy grumpily gathers up her clothes and heads out.
Amy doesn't go back to the mansion. After a quick trip to the drug store on the corner for a dose of the morning after drug (sold to her by a clerk who gives her a sympathetic, knowing nod), she hitches a ride back to campus, then moves on with her life.
Her night with Prince Charming has a deeper impact than she at first realized. After seeing all the ways he exploited her she finds it difficult to fall for the same strategies employed by less charming men, and all thoughts of sex just conjure up memories of the least satisfying sexual encounter of her life. Soon she gives up on the bar scene and the meat market altogether, but the longer she goes without a healthy relationship, the more heavily her night with the prince weighs down her psyche. Burying herself in her new post-college career, she's not sure she can ever trust a man again.
After some coaxing, she goes out with a friend to a lesbian bar. She meets someone nice, June. While she is at first reluctant, Amy eventually decides to experiment and go out on a date with June. Amy has a great time. After some soul searching, she decides she's open to the lesbian thing.
A few years later Amy and June are married. Amy is happy in her new life. She seldom thinks about her harrowing night at the mansion. At her college reunion she does tear up when she passes the memorial for her old friend Shannon, who was never seen again after she disappeared that night during final's week. Amy has an idea of what happened to Shannon, but can never speak up about it, to ashamed of how her adventure turned out.
Amy has decided to give up on her adventure. This actually turns out pretty well for her, after a while, but doesn't end so great for Shannon.
The End.