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and Other Erotic Fairy Tales

by Hillary Rollins

Pub Date: July 17th, 2001
ISBN: 0-609-60705-7
Publisher: Harmony

Paste jewels of fairytale erotica.

Rollins’s stories may not be strong on suavity or elegance, or up to the better erotica collections for young lonelies, or to the lavender exercises of A.N. Roquelaure (a.k.a. Anne Rice) in the let’s-spank-Sleeping-Beauty mode—but without doubt they're passingly effective as an aid for young ladies who wish to sweeten the midnight sheets with a dark dream of swollen and refulgent cushions of flesh invaded by an “engorged thick knob.” One standout does strive for stronger writing, the title piece, a satire on the bare-nippled lingerie and ornamental pubic silks of the Victoria’s Secret line of boudoir-wear for sulky bottoms. The prude empress, scammed by dealers who sell her weaving that remains invisible to the vile, vulgar, and lustful, gets decked out in a fantastic red bustier of scandalous slenderness that gives her bosom a lush lift and lets her hips blossom while her long pink nipples stand out “exposed, erect and pulsating, just above the lace-trimmed edge of the half-moon cups.” The delights of brother/sister wrestling are revealed in “Hansel and Gretel,” told in a really cool way (Gretel: “See, ever since my father married my stepmother—who, of course, was the typical evil stepmother who hated the children of her husband’s first wife and was completely jealous of any attention he gave us—”). The prince awakes Sleeping Beauty with a kiss on her “throbbing, raging clit” that has it “quivering with liquid incandescence.” Then we have Snow White fellating the Seven Dwarfs, and Red Riding Hood engaging in secret acts under the blanket, her lonely “purple-dark slit and arching spine” in “a frenzy of flying fingers” before the redheaded curls that adorn her mound meet up with the wolf’s “powerful, beastly tongue” and “ravenous mouth”—and so on to “Rapunzel,” “The Three Little Pigs,” “Goldie and the Three Bare Bachelors,” and Cinderella in her stiletto glass slippers meeting her princely foot fetishist, who licks “every nook and cranny of that plump bit of flesh.”

A carton of rum-soaked bonbons. Don’t say you weren’t warned.