Fertile Fairytales

By Jess Thick

Men become women. Princesses become queens - and all these lustful ladies become wanton wives. Take a gander at these torrid love affairs which don't fade to black when happily ever after comes.

The first bundle in the Fertile Fairytales series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.B. Black
• Release date: Feb 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005807665

Jess Thick

Jess adores the steamy side of romance, exploring the quick scenes that leave your heart fluttering as strong, fertile heroines find their Happily Ever Afters!

Book preview

FERTILE FAIRYTALES

M/F, M/M, F/MM+

Jess Thick

Fertile Fairytales by Jess Thick

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

FERTILE FAIRYTALES

Copyright © 2019 Jess Thick

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing of the publisher.

Table of Contents

My Cursed Prince

My Seven Husbands

Becoming My Husband’s Broodmare

Becoming the Erlkonig’s Fertile Bride

MY CURSED PRINCE

M/F – An Erotic Fantasy Gender Swap Retelling of Sleeping Beauty

Jess Thick

My Cursed Prince by Jess Thick

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

MY CURSED PRINCE

Copyright © 2019 Jess Thick

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing of the publisher.

She traced her fingers down his face. Like a statue, he slept - unaffected by the world around him. His porcelain skin shimmered in the moonlight. It would be simple to curl around him, bend and bite his pale neck where his pulse thumped - a mockery to his unwakeable countenance. This was no fairy tale. He would not wake with love’s first kiss.

Casting a leg over his hips, she settled her weight upon his thighs as she stroked his cock, urging it to hardening though no amount of release would wake him from the cursed slumber. Clever demon - knowing only true pain and passion could undo the spell, but what man knew such glory. No - only the birth of a child could rouse the sleeping, and her love would never swell with such fruit. Even if her own womb quickened, he would not know it. The kingdom would live on without him, and perhaps one day while he remained unaging, some other would mount him when their joined line proved too frail to do so on their own. Perhaps even some reckless maid would ride him like this in a thousand years to claim the throne - claim inheritance or some else.

Perhaps mercy would be to slit his throat after she bore enough sons. How cruel? Her hand glided over his engorged flesh, and she knew she could not bear to ever harm him. Even her movements now were ones they had considered in full when they learned about their predicament. Of course, both had believed she would be the one sleeping.

I love you, she whispered as she had requested he do. Straddling him, she aligned his cock with her trembling sex. Even as guilt ached in her heart, she yearned for him. The sight of his glistening muscles - the perfect straight line of his nose and the cutting edge of his sharp cheekbones reminded her of all the promises they had made. One day, she would see those same features awake again - but cruel promise, only in the gestures of their children, corrupted visages bound with her own flesh. I miss you.

Sinking down onto his cock, she relished the heat of him between her thighs. Even asleep, the monster could not steal the warmth from him. Perhaps this was no curse. Maybe he wasn’t dead to the world but truly sleeping. In moments, he would wake. His eyelashes would flutter then the bright blue would flash as he gazed up at her. His hands, fisted in sleep, would slid up her thighs, caressing the flesh there and gliding over smooth skin before taking hold at her hips. Any moment, his hips would thrust up into her. The pulsing heat of his throbbing erection would plant his seed in her womb, and his laugh would echo in their chambers as he promised to see her round with an heir before midsummer’s eve. She could almost convince herself his lips twitched into an almost smile, but soon the stillness and silence would corrupt the illusion.

Desperate for his affection, she lost herself to fantasy:

She rolled her hips. The press of her long fingers against his chest a soft caress meant only to balance as she chased her pleasure upon the throbbing rod of his engorged lust. Her long hair fell about her shoulders. Bare before him, she arched. Her nipples pebbled and begging for attention as she heaved, dreaming of the day when they would ache, leaking milk and begging for the relief of his lips and tongue.

Around him, her body dampened. The wet suction of her cunt clinging, milking him as each rising bounce grew harder as she yearned to remain pressed tightly to him. Her body ached - empty without him within her. Hot juices leaked from their joining. His arousal and hers mixing until his eyelashes fluttered. A soft moan echoed in the room - overtaking the dull crackle of the fire which always seemed so distant in these moments.

His hips would twitch up then. Just a slight rise to meet her as she bounced, mostly grinding as the ache throbbed in her thighs. Like he was hit by lightning (that horrible expression of when the curse first grew in the warlock’s hands), he would jerk to wakefulness. Fingers would press bruises into her hips. Writhing, he would curl up and around her, rolling them until she was pressed into the mattress. The weight of him would settle over her then. Solid and heaving - panting desperately with eyes almost black they were so desperately aching. Lust incarnate in the onyx there.

"My love, he would call her. His fingers loosening - pained pinching at his brows when he realized the state of them - bound together, pierced and piercer, sword and shealth with his bruising grip and then - ever gentle - he would fold over her like a shield. By the gods, I’ve missed you."

"You’re awake," she would cry. Tears streaming down her face. She was no fool. She knew she cried ugly as any other woman. But he would kiss her tears away.

"True love could never be destroyed by such feeble magic," he would proclaim.

A parody of the words he’d once roared at the warlock when he had shielded her from the dark magic user’s proposal all those weeks ago. Back when she had only first realized the teacher and guardian she believed to be her friend was truly the monster which haunted her parents’ nightmares.  

His heat leaked into her - except this time, it came from all around her not just within and below. Her body ached. Chills