Mirror Mirror Ch 01 3

My Dear Readers,

Disclaimer:

What I write is fiction/fantasy/fairy tales for adults. None of my characters are real, no one was injured during the production of my stories and just like on T.V., they all get up when the scene is over, have a beer, remove the makeup and go home, ready to return in the next chapter, all the boo boos healed.

Some spelling and grammatical errors are mine however some are intentional. Which is witch I leave as an exercise for those anal enough to care.

Votes and comments are as always gratefully received. E-mail will get personnel response if you remember to leave me a return e-mail address.

Enjoy.

Dom Woolf

Mirror Mirror: Part One

Chapter One: Bright Queen, Dark Queen

and in between

Once upon a time a beautiful Queen sat sewing at her tower window high up in the castle. It was the middle of winter and the snow blew all around the tower, settling in on the window sills bright and white and gleaming like small sparkling diamonds.

The Queen was daydreaming as she often did on quiet cold winter days when nothing was stirring and her husband the king was off on a hunting trip or off judging tournaments or just off as he often was. Staring at the snow through the open window the Queen who was several months pregnant pricked her finger and three drops of blood fell onto the glistening snow.

"Ahh, mother of us all, I pray that I might have a daughter with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood and hair as dark as ebony."

At that moment a ray of sunlight broke through the grey winter clouds and fell on the Queen.

She smiled as she drifted off into her daydreams and a few months later on the first day of spring the Queen gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with skin as white as snow lips as dark red as blood and hair of deepest ebony. The Queen whispered to her husband, "We should call her Snow White." The queen then slipped back into her dream world and never awoke.

The King was a good king and wise and so he held a large funeral for the Queen and there after kept to himself for a year and a day, but being a wise king he knew that once the time of mourning was over, his kingdom would need a new queen.

Off he rode into far and distant lands in his search for a queen to take the place of his beloved Queen. Five long years past before he returned to his kingdom and with him rode in a golden carriage the new Queen.

Oh, she was different from the former queen. Where the old queen had been bright and rounded and full of life, this new queen was dark, thin, and shapely with full high breasts and a pert tight ass and an evil sadistic smile that caused women to look away and men to shiver and grow hard in their pants.

The Queen had many wagons piled high with her things and she took over many room within the castle, ordering those whose rooms she wanted tossed out, without so much as a days notice. Some of the new furnishings were grand and golden, some were strange and dark, and some it was rumored went into rooms that the Queen and only the Queen had a key there to. Into these rooms went many heavy and fully covered items and the rooms were locked with nothing uncovered, nothing seen by anyone but the Queen who tucked the key between her ample bosoms.

The Queen even took the main bedchamber for herself and ordered the King's clothes and items to be moved to another bedchamber clear across the on the other side of the castle.

When asked about the arraignment the king merely replied, 'She is from a far off land, they do things differently there."

Still and all, the king seemed happy and if strange and painful sounding noises were heard outside the castle walls, none would say a word because, well, people were entitled to their privacy after all.

That the new Queen was vain about her looks became a well known fact and the money she spent on the latest and most daring clothes could only help the local economy. The parties she threw and the fact that the King seemed to retire early was best not spoken about, for those that the Queen disapproved of always had a habit of moving away in the night, never to return. Or so it was said.

Princess Snow White only met the Queen once, it was said, and then she was sent to her governess and never spoken of again in the Queen's presence.

Her father visited every day or sent word if he was to be away, for it began to be noticed that he spent much time at hunting and inspecting the borders of his kingdom, often away for weeks at a time.

Gradually the Queen replaced all the King's men that remained at the castle with those she hand picked and the King just said it was so she would feel safe while he was away.

Inside Her bedchamber, her guards at the door the Queen whiled away many hours and if noises were to be heard far and away from the royal suite it could be the wind, knocking branches against the castle walls or cats mating in the unused rooms down the hall.

Every morning the Queen would bathe in cream and oil her body with fragrant bath oils. Her servants, mute and veiled would brush her black hair and dress her in the finest silks, and then the Queen would dismiss her servants and lock her door before opening the curtains that hid a most unusual mirror.

The mirror was larger than any mirror ever seen in the kingdom. It was bordered by gold and silver molding with what appeared to be figures carved all around the edge of the glass. That the figures seemed to be males and females, that they seemed to be nude and copulating in the most lascivious fashion or that it seemed, if you took your eyes away for just a moment, that the figures changed positions into something even more crude and lascivious then when you first looked.

The few that ever saw the mirror uncovered, never seemed to notice the molding for the surface of the glass held the eye, indeed drew the eye deeper into the dark and seemingly swirling blackness. Indeed the few that saw the mirror uncovered stared into the blackness and seemed to lose their minds forever. If you were standing outside the sight of the mirror's glass, it was said you would hear a most unsettling and sinister laugh.

The Queen would approach the mirror and stare into the blackness for a bit and every morning she would say, "Mirror, mirror on the wall / who in the land is fairest of all?"

Slowly the mirror would become smoky silver, and then it would clear to show the reflection of the Queen.

A voice would come from the depths of the mirror.

"You, my queen, are fairest of all."

The Queen would smile.

Night would follow day and day follow night and time would pass as it should and babies grow up to be children and children become young ladies.

So it was with Snow White. A pretty baby, a precocious child, and then one fine and fair morning, a beautiful young lady and on that fine and fair morning, the Queen as was her wont approached her mirror.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, / who in the land is fairest of all?"

The mirror almost seemed to hesitate.

"Queen, you are full fair, 'tis true, but Snow White shall soon be fairer than you." In the glass was reflected, not the Queen, but a vision of Snow White bathing next to a fire, her skin soft and creamy white, her lips the purest ruby red and her wet and shining hair, the deepest of ebony black. The water made her skin glisten and the young budding breasts shown nipples of the palest pink rosebuds.

The Queen flew into a rage and even the mirror seemed to shrink away and hide, its surface becoming the darkest black anyone would ever see, if, they dared to look into it at all.

The pair of guards outside the door to the Queen's bedchamber as big and wide and tough and mean as they were, even they edged a foot or so away from the door at the sounds of the raging storm coming from inside.

The sudden stillness caught them off stride and the door silently opened. The voice that came from within started them both running down opposite ends of the corridor, anything to get them away from the pure evil of the voice that said in slow measured cadence.

"Bring Me, My Huntsman!"

Chapter Two: The Huntsman

Born in a land so very far away that even the Queen, a well educated woman, had never heard the faintest whisper of a rumor about it, the huntsman began life, as do we all, a playful child of hard working parents. He was taught from a young age the art of tracking and killing game for the supper of himself and his family.

He learned the way of the woods and the mountains, the rivers and the streams. He learned to reed the tiniest signs, the turned over pebble, the bent grass, and the way the birds and insects reacted to the fleeing hunted.

He learned the bow and the net, how to trap and to herd his prey where he wished them to go. He started small, rabbits and squirrels, and moved on to bigger things. Wild boar, deer, and elk fell to his bow, his sword, and knife.

When he was ten summers in age, a deer he had just brought down was dragged off by a hungry mountain lion. He gave chase and found the deer a ways down the trail. He thought the lion had given up the deer because it was being chased and run off.

As he was dressing out his catch, the lion dropped from a nearby tree with a mighty roar and landed on the boy. The lion was bigger than the boy was but still scrawny from the long hard winter. The boy was able to twist and squirm and plunge his knife, always sharp as the boy could keep it, into the belly of the beast.

The cat screamed his rage and spittle flew into the boys eyes blinding him for just a second and the claws ripped across his face. The boy screamed back at the lion and wrapped his one arm and both legs around the cat. His free hand held the knife and he plunged it again and again into the struggling cat.

When his father and the neighbors found him, having heard the screams of both lion and boy, he was barely conscious, still wrapped around the cat in a death squeeze and still plunging the knife over and over into the body of the dead animal.

The boy spent most of the summer recovering and the leaves had turned to their colorful foliage before the boy was able to hunt again, but something had changed for now not only did the boy return with deer and elk and moose, now when he returned after being gone several days, he carried the fur and meat, of lion and bear.

He would drop off the meat sled, cook a large meal sleep the night and be gone in the mornings. Nothing anyone said made any difference to the face scarred young man. He would nod and agree to whatever was said and be gone before daybreak.

One day he left for good. There was no challenge in the area near his home so he wandered the world, always seeking the biggest most dangerous game. Lions, real ones not the smaller mountain types, jaguars, tigers, he hunted them all.

Still it was not enough.

He went after bigger more elusive beasts, Trolls, Minotaur, hydras, dragons, and serpents.

Then as he approached a village after a long days travel, he heard weeping and wailing such as he had rarely ever beheld. The village was in ruins. Some huts burned to the ground, others just torn apart.

Bodies lay heather and yon son slashed open, some torn limb form limb and beside them the weeping and wailing of women and children and old men.

"What has happened here?" He asked the people.

"Raiders and thieves, struck in the night. They killed all our men folk and stole what little we had. They even took the young women away as slaves or worse."

"Where are your King and his solders? Does he care so little for his people, that he leaves you without protection?"

"The King and his solders lost the trail in the deep woods to the north, where even now they search without result.'

The young hunter, now a full grown man, rode off to the north; he joined up with the King and offered his service as a hunter to track the bandits.

Six days they pursued the villains and late in the evening of the seventh day after the King and his men had made camp, the young hunter followed the trail and caught up with the bandits as they had made camp several miles ahead of the king.

The hunter cautiously crept ever closer to the camp, right past several sentries. He crept to the edge of the bowl shaped glade the raiders were camped in and watched the camp as they settled in for the night. He watched as half naked girls were forced to cook, and serve wine and jugs of beer. He watched as the girls were grabbed and tossed down on the dirt, their legs pulled apart and the men thrust themselves upon them. He listened to their cries and weeping and slowly crept away.

Hidden in the trees he watched as the sentries were relieved and one by one, he slipped in behind them and slit their throats. He crept back to the camp, bow in hand and arrows laid out in front of him. He notched his bow, drew back, and took out one after another as fast as he could draw and shoot. Each arrow found its mark and before the camp could react, they all lay dead. Only two had even had time to draw sword and charge him, neither cleared the lighted space of the campfire.

The hunter returned to the King and told him of the camp. The King dispatched his soldiers to recover the women and the booty. The King offered a reward to the hunter, but he wanted nothing. He bid the King goodbye and turned to leave.

The King called to him as he rode away.

"Goodbye, young man and thank you, for truly you are a hunter of men."

Thus the Huntsman was born, for nowhere had he found a creature harder to hunt then man himself and for years he traveled the world chasing the most elusive and dangerous of prey. Man.

Chapter Three: The Will, The Way and The Woe.

Tall and lean, bearded with a long pony tail down his back, The Huntsman was a fearsome sight striding down the corridor towards the Queens chambers. His face was scared in such a way as to give him a permanent scowl. His eyes were dark and glistened as if they saw everything and missed nothing. A sword hung off one hip, a long knife off the other. His bow lay across his back with a quiver of arrows at the ready.

Seeing him stride towards the Queens chamber the guards began knocking on her door announcing him before he ever reached them. The door opened as he walked between the guards and passed within slamming the door behind him in the faces of the guards.

The tall man went down on one knee.

"You summoned me, My Queen?"

"I have a task for you, my Huntsman. I want you to take the Princess Snow White out deep into the woods, kill her and bring me her heart that I will know she is truly dead."

The huntsman had done many evil and shameful deeds for his dark Queen in the years since he had come into her service. How he had come into her service is a twisted tale for another time, suffice it to say she owned him body and soul, but never had he been asked to kill an innocent girl.

"Well, my Huntsman?"

"It shall be done your Majesty."

The evil Queen placed her hand on the bent head of the Huntsman. She handed him a small wooden chest marked with many symbols of a nature too evil to describe.

"Place her still beating heart in this chest and lock it."

That very morning, the Huntsman called upon the Princess and informed her that her father the King wished her to join him on his hunt and that he, the Huntsman was to take her to join the Kings hunting party.

Snow White was very excited at this news for never had her father allowed her to join the hunt. She dressed quickly in riding britches and a hooded cloak, gathered her pack, stopped in the castle kitchens, and then followed the Huntsman to the stables. They mounted the horses already prepared and rode out through the gate of the great castle, across the moat, crossing the wide cleared field and into the woods.

The Queen in her tower watched as they disappeared into the woods. Her face alight with a sadistic smile.

"Soon," she addressed her mirror. "I will rule as the fairest in the land, with no one to challenge me."

In the depths of the mirror came just the slightest hint of a quiver. "Yes, my Queen."

The Huntsman rode behind the Princess, watching her body as she sat her horse. The rounded firm buttocks swayed and bounced in the saddle as she navigated through the woods jumping over logs and ruts, going ever deeper into the dimly lit confines of the endless forest.

Hours they rode, the Huntsman pointing the way and watching the ripe young body of the Princess as she rode. Come sunset, they stopped and made camp. The Huntsman set up a tent and set the princess to gathering firewood as he disappeared into the forest in search of game.

He returned with a rabbit and a pheasant hanging by his belt to find a pot of water boiling with many small vegetables cooking inside and the aroma of spices filling the air.

"I stopped by the kitchen and gathered up some things to make the cooking more pleasing." She explained.

The Huntsman merely grunted and dressed out his catch, which Snow White began to prepare. He watched her move around the campfire, noting her trim figure, and her budding breasts bouncing unbound beneath her silken blouse.

Snow White was a lovely young girl, the like of which the Huntsman had rarely seen in all his years of wandering the world. She was always happy and sweet, never an unkind word to servants or peasants. She seemed to radiate like a sun lit meadow full of spring flowers. The Huntsman felt himself growing hard in his manhood. Few women over the years made him react thus. The scars on his face and the nature of his business tended to make women shy away from him.

There were women; of course, the Queen supplied him with many, mostly servants that had displeased her or those she saw as a danger to her schemes. On rare occasions, she herself joined in on the torture and rape of those that particularly irritated the Queen.

She could be quite inventive in the ways of torture and humiliation. She loved to hear the screams and cover her naked body in her victim's blood. Once the Queen set her mind to destroying a foe, no evil was too much for her chosen prey to endure. Every member of the victim's family would be used to bring more despair and agony to her captive.

She once destroyed eleven members of a family in front of a woman who had dared to challenge the Queen. She had tortured and killed them all, one by one whilst the woman was forced to watch and the Queen stroked and licked and made love to the woman's body, laughing at every groan and scream, and licking up every tear.

Snow White should be grateful; all the Queen wanted was her death. It could have been so much worse.

Snow White dished the meal and brought the Huntsman his plate. When she bent down to serve him, his eyes followed the opening of her blouse as it dropped away revealing those pink tipped budding breasts to his hungry eyes.

She sat next to him with her own plate cooling on the stump of a tree and the Huntsman asked her to fetch a skin of wine from the horses pack. He took advantage of the time to dose her food with a spice that would make her sleep and watched as it took effect.

Her head was nodding before she finished the plate of food; the Huntsman caught her as she fell over. He carried the unconscious young woman over to a flat stretch of ground and laid her gently in the grass. The Huntsman stared down at the sleeping girl, her ebony hair unbound and spread around her face catching the highlights of the campfire. Her ruby red lips were softly parted, inviting.

He drew his long knife, the edge so recently sharpened, glistened as he slit her blouse from neck to stomach and spread the torn edges, revealing to his gaze the small rose tipped breasts, the tiny nipples standing up in the cool evenings breeze.