Snow White: an Erotic Adventure

THAT AFTERNOON

After falling into a fitful sleep Snow awoke groggily and groaned. His throat felt like there was fire embedded in it, his dazzling green eyes were sore and bloodshot and his head pounded out an erratic beat. 'So this is to be my life a permanent cycle of depression and angst?' he mused to himself. He shivered and his eyes cut towards the window that he had so foolishly left open. The sun was beginning its departure behind the moon and the whole sky was blazed with the most dazzling array of reds, purple and blue hues. 'Such a beautiful scene and yet in my melancholy I cannot enjoy it' he sighed to himself.

Rather than hiding in his chambers and admitting cowardice Snow garnered up his courage, and washed his face in preparation of meeting the evil wretch and putting on a good show if not for his father than for the people who would one day serve him.

Snow opened the door to his room slowly and peered out anxiously expecting to be accosted at any moment. When no one appeared to be lurking in the shadows to jump out at him he made his way silently to the staircase and descended quietly. Snow felt more like an intruder within his own home than he did an inhabitant, every last one of his senses was going haywire as he got nearer and nearer to Jasmine. He felt more like a deer that instead of running away from danger he was moving steadily towards it.

When he finally made it to the bottom of the stairwell he began venturing down the hallway. 'God' he thought ' I feel as though I am walking towards my execution'. It seemed to take an age before he reached the end on the corridor and get to the door to which he knew the festivities would be taking place. He took a deep breath hoping to steady his heart before he entered the throng of guests and slowly turned the door.

His eyes flickered briefly over the guests who had frozen from whatever tasks they had been doing to cast their gazes upon the surely prince. And then the hackles on the back of his neck rose a mile into the air as he felt her presence. Without needing to turn his head he immediately knew that she was watching him, he could feel her eyes boring into him. He shivered as a chill descended down his spine.

Taking another steadying breath, he made his way through the silent and stationary courtiers, to the High Table where his place beside his father stood vacant. Time stood still, as he walked the sound of his shoes could be heard echoing on the stone floor. Finally he made it to the table and no sooner had he taken his seat did the merriment continue as though the deathly silence had been none other than a product of his over active imagination.

For the courtiers the feast was a wondrous event, the laughed danced and enjoyed each others company immensely. The servers made sure that the guests were met with a constant supply of drink and food, that every wish and whim was taken care of. For the King however, he could neither hear no see anyone other than Jasmine. Though he consumed the food and wine, his body and soul feasted solely upon every eye lash fluttered, every shy grin or melodious laugh that Jasmine made and of that he was certain he could never tire nor be full of.

For the Prince every morsel of food tasted like ash and burned as it made its way down his throat. His stomach turned and rolled causing a nauseous feeling that threatened sickness at the very table. The music and laughter ringing through the hall pounded in his ears, it made his heart race and his chest constricted painfully as his breathing shallowed. Silently he prayed for the night to end but as he cast his eyes towards the subjects so gay in their merry making he did not hold out hope for a swift termination to the evening.

FINALLY

The guests retired to their rooms for the night, for a while the halls and rooms were abuzz with the excitement of the coming morning. There was to be a wedding and then the ceremony in which each guest blessed the union that was to take place between the King and his bride would be a rich union. That they would be blessed with many heirs and that their reign be a long and prosperous one.

Soon however with the aide of soft feather mattresses and heavy laden stomachs eyes closed and soft snores ensued from the many chambers within the castle. All slept except for Jasmine, she paced the length of her room whilst she silently raged about the Prince to her bodyguard Sven.

"That... That beast of a boy will ruin my plans" she hissed "I see how he looks at me with distrust and suspicion. How dare he! Who does he think he is to look at me with such.. Such distain?! I who control the winds and the seas. I who can get the very trees to do my bidding! I who know magic and sorcery as old as the dawn of time. No this cannot be allowed, I will have to ensure that the boy does not hinder my plans. That old fool Saul is not completely under my control and any interference from the boy could prove to be detrimental to my plans.

Jasmine walked towards the sentry "Sven darling" she purred each word formed by thick luscious lips " I have a task for you, will you undertake it and please your mistress" she asked stroking his cheek gently.

He turned his heated gaze towards her "Yes mistress, I will do what ever you ask for me" he rumbled his words thick with arousal.

"Such a good obedient pet, in the morning I want you to shadow the Prince. I want to know his every day dealings, his comings and goings. Where he spends most of his time and with who and what he does. But I don't want you to be seen you must be a figure among the shadows, a whisper in the wind. Can you do this for me?"

Sven shuddered as the fingers of the hand that stroked his cheek ghosted across his lips "Yes, yes anything for you mistress" he moaned. Sven could feel himself thicken although a male of impressive stature he willingly submitted to the woman who stood before him who looked to be no more than a slip of a girl. But he knew all to well that such appearances where highly deceptive. Many a night that same said slip of a girl had caused to him to moan and scream aloud at night begging, practically crying for release that was so cruelly and pleasurable denied to him. In fact he could still feel the kiss of the whip across his back, buttocks and thighs where his mistress had whipped him and ripped such a powerful orgasm from him that his vision had become obscured by stars until blessed darkness had overcome him.

"Good" Jasmine whispered "Now disrobe and get on your knees." Sven hurriedly complied and not until he was in his primary position of arms clasped behind his back knees shoulder width apart and a steel encased organ pointing up towards the roof did Jasmine speak again "Remain silent pet" She breathed in his ear right before a surge of power raced through his veins causing his back to arch and his eyes to roll into his head.

THE NEXT MORNING: SVEN

The preparations for the day's wedding had begun. The castle was in chaos, organized though it was it was still chaos. Servants rushed around checking and rechecking decorations, the kitchen was abuzz with the sound of hundreds of ingredients being whisked, beaten, rolled and stuffed by capable hands. The halls were filled with a number of guests rushing to and fro and he overlooked them all in favor of one who had yet to make an appearance.

Well he knew where the Prince wasn't so that was a start at least, he wasn't anywhere where his father and his mistress was that was for sure. Sven had woken from a bone deep exhaustion that kept him glued to his mattress for 10 minutes before he realized his mistress was not in the room.

Sven casually stalked the halls avoiding contact with the other guests. Intent on his pursuit he dutifully checked all the rooms on the lowest level before alighting the stairs in which the bedchambers were located. Recalling an earlier conversation with one of the maid servants in which he enquired about the reclusive son his mistress was soon to be a step mother to. He found out that the Prince often frequented the nursery in which he was born because the late Queen Maria had been known to dwell within its walls for hours on end, painting reading or merely entertaining a dark haired, green eyed mischievous scamp.

As a result it was to this room at the end of an expansive hall adorned with portraits of the King, his Queen and Son and various other family members as well as acquaintances that his feet led him to. Upon reaching the large rouged oak door in which a suit of armor or considerable height and width stood formidably as though guarding the occupant from any threat of harm be it physical or mental, he silently turned the handle and eased the door open.

When he entered he gazed around the room noting the sizeable fireplace with its wrought iron grate and mantle upon which stood candles in their holders encrusted in gems that's sparkled in the bright sun. He registered the room once held the feelings of relaxation and contentment, the warm hues of brown and green clearly once sang of the laughter and merriment that took place years, months before. Now the room beheld emotions based solely upon sadness and anguish.

Casting his eyes to the left he viewed the door that the young maid had said led to the room that the King and Queen had shared before her death. Eager in her quest to keep him in her presence she told Sven of the loving young woman who had birthed such a beautiful child who had been so frightened and unable to sleep knowing that her little love, her snow in summer as she called him slept so far away with his wet nurse. And so a King, a husband, a proud father so besotted with his wife had a number of carpenters and decorators working in secret, night and day in order to construct a room in which their child could lay and his mother could her nerves and check on their precious bundle whenever the feeling took her.

A quick scan of the remaining section of the room showed nothing of the illusive Prince. His eyes were met instead by two high backed easy chairs a book case in which every shelf and every spare space upon it was stuffed from floor to ceiling with volumes of books. A large window which had a plush velvet covered bench underneath it, opened out on to the gardens gave Sven an awe inspiring view of the snow that covered the hedges and of the icicles that dangled so daintily from the branches of the trees. To Sven's undeserving eyes to be an enchanted land where destruction and malice had never tainted or marred the beauty because only a few were privy to know of it existence. So engrossed was in this timeless discovery he didn't hear the soft footfalls that had been muted by the plush carpet. In fact it wasn't until he heard the melodious voice and was startled from his reverie that he turned from the windows to find the lithe statuesque form of the Prince.

"What are you doing here" the Prince asked wearily. Sven was awestruck to say the least, he had thought his mistress to be a creature of unparalleled beauty, but now standing before the ethereal beauty of the Prince he could clearly see how mistaken he had been. His eyes were briefly lost in emerald pools only to settle upon lush roughed lips. As his eyes moved up towards pale cheeks he could clearly see his mistress' envy that fuelled such hatred towards the Prince.

"My Prince" Sven replied before bowing to the enchanting creature "Please forgive my intrusion, but I noticed that last night at the banquet you looked out of sorts. I know that your fathers impending marriage to my mistress is nothing short of a shock to you. As it should be after all everything does appear to be moving so fast and I dare say that it causes you anguish and..and." Words seemed to fail him as he took in the Princes startled expression noting how the signs of obvious embarrassment had erupted on his face in the form of pink cheeks.

"I" he continued "I just wanted you to know that I would be most honored to be your confidant, if you would permit it." The silence seemed to carry on for an age as he waited for the Prince to say something, anything.

"Does your.. Mistress as you call her know that her guard is so loose with his tongue?" Feeling ill at ease with his earlier candor Sven began to rush into another speech "Your Majesty forgive me it was not my place. I was bold and his Highness is right to chastise". Much to his surprise Sven saw the barest of twitches to the side of the Prince's full lips and it wasn't until he looked into those eyes that he saw the merriment dancing within them.

The Prince walked towards the window that only a moment ago Sven had been so engrossed in. "It was my mothers personal garden, she planted it herself you know. In the summer when the roses and hyacinth were in bloom and the robins would nest in their trees, my mother and I would sit right here on this bench and she would read to me while the summer breeze would blow the smells from the flowers, and the robins song would be carried along on the wind. And my father.." he paused and lowered his lashes and took a deep steadying breath before continuing. "My father would stand by that door that you came in from whenever he had a spare moment, or sit in that chair by the hearth and listen with rapt attention as my mother weaved her tales and made her stories come alive. There was so much love then, now, now everything is dead and hollow."

The Princes voice had reduced to that of a whisper and Sven had unconsciously shifted closer and closer to the Prince as he told his story. He could see the whirlwind of emotions swimming in the Prince's eyes, he saw the slight tremble and heard the waver of lips and voice as they spoke of the moments that had passed that could never be reclaimed.

"Its funny" the Prince said "No matter how hard I cry, no matter how many tears I shed it doesn't change anything. The ache never leaves, the feeling of being torn apart never ceases and she will never come back. It hurts, I hurt".

In the reflection of the window Sven saw as one silent tear gave way to another and another after that.

IN THE following days and months that followed Sven had been a vital part in the Prince's life guiding him through the tough times, such as his fathers wedding. In which he had barely managed to keep his emotions in check as he had to watch his father declare for all in attendance his love, devotion and utter faithfulness to Jasmine. He was forced to watch as his father kissed his new bride with such a passion that it stole his breath away and threatened to chock the life from him.

And when no one saw the evil malicious intent in her eyes when her gaze was upon him Sven was there to hear his fears, insecurities and anxieties he was there to wipe away his tears. And with Sven's unwavering devotion he restored his spirit, he gave him reason to hope. He saw once again the beauty that surrounded him and as a result he smiled often and laughed merrily. So close did they become that Sven was no longer allowed to call him the Prince, Your highness or Your Majesty from then on he was referred to as Snow.

However, not all was as merry gay and gay as it was previously portray there was a dark undertone to all of the outwardly perceived happiness. For Sven the burden of having to lead a double life began to weigh heavily upon him. Having to betray the one he had become so close to, the one who did not use him or hurt him began to take its toll upon him. Although he tried to forget every night he was reminded of just was he was, the snake in the bush, the informer.

And under the torturous ministrations of his mistress that's just what he did, he informed. In the room that witnessed his silent screams under her knowing hands, he told of every smile, laugh, tear and sigh. Upon the cessation of each purgury his mistress allowed him mind blowing pleasure as his reward. Although his body experienced the carnal desires it craved and his essence rained down in a shower of white crème upon the floor; his soul was damned.

His soul was torn because no man can serve two masters.