Pretty Pretty Princess

by McKenzie, Shane

  “Disgusting beast,” she said and wrinkled her nose. She held a pork sausage in one hand, glistening with grease, skewered so she wouldn’t have to get her dainty hand messy. She bit into it, chewed as she scowled down at Gavin.

  Gavin sat on his haunches and puffed out his chest, making sure the king’s necklace shone its gold into the couple’s faces. Their eyes widened, both of their heads cracking open like a couple of goose eggs with deep smiles. The man took a knee and spread out his hands, the woman doing a sort of lazy curtsey.

  “Look at that,” Gavin said and nudged the man’s leg with his snout. “Got your fancy trousers all muddy.”

  “It’s nothing. And please . . . I didn’t realize you were—”

  Gavin circled him, then lifted his hind legs and kicked the man in the back, throwing him face first into the muck. “Now the rest of you matches.”

  “Yes. Thank you,” the man said after spitting a mouthful of sludge. He stood and smiled down at the pig. “If it is all right with you . . . m’lord . . . we’ll be on our way.”

  “I’m no lord, asshole. Just a fuckin’ pig with powerful friends. You,” he said to the woman, “come over here and scratch behind my ear. This disgusting beast’s got an itch a mile deep.”

  She hesitated, made a face like she was trying to hold back a gag. The man nudged her with a muddy elbow, smearing a brown streak across her dress.

  “Of . . . of course,” she said, then took one more bite of her sausage before handing it to the man who quickly hid it behind his back and smiled nervously.

  As she scraped her cuticles across his skin, holding down her gorge the best she could, Gavin snapped his jaws over the bottom of her dress and galloped away. The dress ripped off her body, spinning her before she plopped into the mud on her bare ass, covering her puny breasts with her forearm.

  “Just roll around in the mud, lady!” Gavin called over his shoulder as he strutted away, letting the dress fall from his mouth. “Good for the skin!”

  This is the life. Fran, my good friend, you were right. A pig could get used to this.

  His stomach grumbled as he stopped in front of a wooden cart, savory smoke billowing out the top of it. A man stirred a pot with a wooden spoon, his lips sucked into his toothless mouth so that it looked like he had a giant anus between his nose and chin. He pulled the spoon toward his puckered hole and a gray tongue emerged, dipped into the brown liquid, then sucked back in. He jammed the spoon back into the pot as he smacked his mouth and squinted, then sprinkled in some more spice. The smell, though no slop, was enough to make slobber rain from Gavin’s mouth.

  “Hey there, soup maker,” Gavin said and snorted. “Spare a helping or two for a hog with good taste in jewelry?”

  Without looking away from his pot, still stirring, the man said, “I seen yer necklace. Don’t got no bowls. Necklace or not, you’ll eat off the ground, you will, if yer wantin’ anything from me, pig.”

  Gavin dove into the mud, splashing the soup man who didn’t seem to care or notice. Just stirred his pot, adding extra ingredients here and there as he tasted it. Gavin kicked his legs and dragged his back across the mud, wedging himself into a soft, warm trench.

  “Don’t mind a little mud with my slop.”

  “Call my soup slop again, pig, and no necklace or bracelet or a fuckin’ cock ring will save ya from me turnin’ ya into an ingredient. Yeah?”

  I like this guy.

  “My mistake. Won’t happen again.”

  The man grumbled, tossed a few spoonfuls of soup into the mud, then went on about his business.

  Gavin devoured it, belched, then hopped up and wandered off, taking in the scenery.

  Then he heard them. Snorting and grunting off in the distance. He stuck his snout into the air and sniffed long and hard until the tip of his pink cock tingled.

  “Sows. Sweet, blubbery sows. Here I come, ladies.”

  The music started, humming from the sky, picking up in volume the closer he got to the hog house.

  “Ah, fuck it. I guess if I was ever gonna sing, now’d be the time.”

  THIS IS THE LIFE

  Finally we made it here

  To the Princess’s home

  Look at them

  Fat sows just walking around

  Lookin’ for spicy sausage!

  Endless fooooood

  Mud puddles as far as eyes can see

  I’m gonna go on a fucking spree

  Pink and plump, later on I’ll be hitting that

  Juicy porky pussy

  Rubbing mud on all twelve titties

  Yeah baby it’ll get messy

  This is the life, a pig can get used to this

  Mud puddles as far as eyes can see

  Slop, swine, and money, it’s all for me

  Sows, come to me

  Line up on your knees

  Pretty, pretty please

  Now open up and suck my corkscrew

  This is the life, I’m never going back

  To my old one

  Flat broke and alone and tugging on my ham

  I deserve to have some fun

  I’ve got filth between my hoooooves

  Mud puddles as far as eyes can see

  First pig to be considered royalty

  If Fran fucks this up, I swear to God

  His dick, I’ll kick it

  Crazy or not, I don’t give a fuck

  The princess is our ticket

  Just look around at all of this

  Fat asses and mud surrounding me

  And I’ll indulge as long as it’s for free

  This is the life

  No more butcher knives

  Against my throat

  No way

  I’m fucking here to stay

  For life

  That’s right

  Royalty

  Fucking me

  Sows, come to me

  Line up on your knees

  Pretty, pretty please

  Now open wide

  This is the life.

  ***

  When the king arrived, Sonia had to force herself to remain calm, holding out her arms to let the other girls behind her know they were expected to do the same. Regardless of their true feelings. What mattered most was blending in. And timing everything just right. It didn’t take long for the rumor to reach Sonia and the others. Whisperings around the entire castle that the princess had been saved.

  Their future queen had finally come home to Trulia. But she had arrived sooner than expected. Sonia only hoped this didn’t ruin their plans.

  Over the years, many had still held onto hope that the princess would one day be rescued and brought back to her rightful kingdom. Sonia knew better. Knew that if anyone was going to bring her home, it was going to be Sonia and her girls.

  Yet she is here. Now. Who could have possibly slain the Goblin Dragon and its horde? Some half-man half-beast?

  Sonia was born the same year Princess Pretty was sent to the tower to be guarded by the goblins, and so the entire story seemed like nothing more than a fairy tale. And when she reached her eighteenth birthday and there was still no sign of the princess, Sonia always just assumed she had died. Either that or the stories were all false, embellished so that mothers and fathers could recite them while they tucked their children into bed, filling their young minds with food for their imaginations.

  It was the king’s fault. An old, crippled man now, but twenty years ago, he was a fierce, feared king. So heartless and cold that he sent his own daughter from her home. Her only crime being born female, and, if every detail of the stories were accurate, the most beautiful female to ever enter the world. So stunningly gorgeous she could make the gods themselves gasp and create gusts of wind if only to brush her hair away from her face to give them better view of it.

  The girls Sonia grew up with all dreamed of being princesses and queens. Living luxurious lives in castles, surrounded by servants, being adored by all. Not Sonia. She thanked the gods she was born
common. Common girls aren’t sent away and imprisoned and surrounded by all forms of hellish creatures to guard them from whichever brave, imbecilic knight would try and rescue them.

  It didn’t seem worth it to Sonia. She was happy gliding through life unseen, serving the higher ups and performing her duties invisibly. And training with her sisters when the night swallowed the day, transforming herself into a warrior so she would never have to be scared, never have to rely on a man to protect her from the perils of the realm they were forced to spend their years inside of.

  Yet, she could not help but admire the royal women who had no choice, who were sentenced to torture and loneliness, and still survived and ruled. Especially Princess Pretty who had been locked away for more than twenty years.

  After twenty years, will her beauty still be as potent as it once was? Or her mind?

  This was the first of Sonia’s questions and probably the other girls’ as well. All the work and preparation they had put in, all to bring back the one true queen to Trulia. Was she what they had hoped for all these years she would be? This was why Sonia stood anxiously, facing the entrance, awaiting the arrival of the legendary princess.

  She hoped the princess would step into the castle, as beautiful as she ever was. Only now more powerful from having lived through such hell. For having suffered the Goblin Dragon and its horde. She wanted to bask in the majesty of the princess’s presence, washing herself in the aura of her magnificence. She wanted to soak in the magic. It was the little girl in her, she knew, who had lain in bed, covers pulled up to her chin as her father told the tale of the glorious Princess of Trulia and all the men who had perished to merely lay eyes upon her.

  Instead, the reality was far less dramatic. Far less dreamlike. And she felt herself deflate, hearing her girls whispering harshly behind her, each of them stunned and disappointed at what they saw.

  Sonia spotted the princess right away, but didn’t recognize her as such. She looked past her, searching the bodies for a second woman. Surely this hag who dragged her skeletal, mud-caked feet as she walked in behind the king was some poor soul the brave knight who had rescued the princess felt pity for on his journey back to Trulia and brought her along to show how merciful he could be.

  But there was no other woman present. She mistook the flowery prince who strolled in last as female at first but soon saw the stubble on his chin. And even with the facial hair, this man was far more gorgeous than the witch standing behind the king.

  “Sonia,” the king said and smiled at her, placing a gentle, quivering hand on her shoulder. “Please take the princess to the bath. Clean her up, feed her, and dress her. Show her to her chambers, yes? Anything she needs.”

  “Yes, your grace. Of course, your grace.”

  Sonia said this, but did not move. She could only gaze upon the creature the old king had labeled as a princess. The other girls seemed to have suffered from the same trance. All watching as the king took his daughter into his arms and whispered into her ear. The princess stared at the floor with glazed eyes, staying still as the king spoke to her in hushed tones.

  Then the princess’s eyes rolled from the floor up to Sonia’s face. Eyes so piercing Sonia was sure if she stared into them any longer, she would grow cold and fall over dead. If it wasn’t for the sharp scent rolling off of her, Sonia may have stayed hypnotized by her gaze.

  And in those eyes, she could see hope was not yet lost. In those eyes, she saw a glimpse of her future queen. The rightful queen.

  “Sonia?” the king said.

  “Right. Of course. This way, m’lady.” Sonia reached out to take the princess’s wrist, and her fingers wrapped around tufts of matted fur. She gasped and yanked her hand away as if she had just gripped hot coals, but when she caught the expression on the king’s weathered, red face, she quickly forced a smile and gently seized the princess’s arm again, this time higher up so she touched filth-coated skin rather than the festering rat carcass pulled over the woman’s hand.

  “And what species might you be?” Princess Pretty said, her head tilted so that her right ear pressed against her shoulder, staring at Sonia.

  “I am Sonia, your servant. We are all your servants, m’lady.”

  “Please come with us, Princess,” a blonde girl said, then the other girls joined in, circling the filthy woman and gently leading her away from the king and the mystery prince and toward the bath.

  “Where are you taking us?” the princess asked through a laugh.

  “Bunch of cunt munchers, that’s what they are. Trying to get your clothes off so they can taste your fluids.”

  “Tessa! Behave yourself. I’m sorry, servants. She’s had a very long day.”

  Sonia had watched the princess lift the dead rat on her hand and move its mouth to make it speak. The voice was deep and almost man-like, but she had seen the words sputter from the princess’s lips.

  She’s lost her mind. Locked away and alone for far too long. But still . . . there is something there. Deep within her.

  Once they were outside of the bath, Sonia turned to the other girls and smiled. “I will bathe our lady myself. The rest of you,” she said, and glared at them with hard eyes, “there is still much preparation to be completed. Hurry. All is not lost yet.”

  The girls hesitated for a moment, exchanging glances, looking defeated and terrified, but then all nodded and scurried away.

  Sonia sighed, faced the princess, and forced her lips to shape a smile. She didn’t know how she would deal with the rat, but her chest swelled with pity and she was filled with the sudden need to care for the princess. Make her feel as comfortable as she always deserved to be. Whether she was their savior or not, she deserved better than this.

  “This one wants you to herself. Sent the others away so she could eat the whole pie. Every crumb of it!”

  “Tessa, will you please? Servant is very kind, even though her hair twitches like the dying legs of an insect. Servant? How did you get that insect inside of your head that way?”

  “All I had to do was stuff crackers in my ears and it crawled right in.” Sonia smiled and led the princess into the bath chamber. Her father used to tell her she had a broad imagination, and the two of them would stay up late, making up stories together. They were the happiest times she could remember, and she decided to adopt the same tactics with the princess. Just play along, make her feel comfortable.

  “Very clever. May I ask you another question?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why have you trapped so many ghosts in this room? Have the gods turned their backs on them?”

  Sonia chuckled and sat at the edge of the large tub, running her fingertips through it to check the temperature. “It is only the steam, m’lady. It will help cleanse your skin of all this . . . ”

  “Shit? You can say it, cunt muncher. Shit’s been a good friend of ours for a long time,” the rat said, its remaining incisors clicking together as the princess flapped its mouth.

  “Right. I will turn my back as you undress if it makes you feel more at ease. After everything you’ve suffered through, my only wish is for you to be washed over with comfort.”

  The princess didn’t say anything, just watched Sonia with those powerful eyes of hers. For a moment, just a quick second, Sonia thought she saw the beauty the legends spoke of. The princess’s body had withered and aged, but her eyes had remained the same—basted with a bit of lunacy, but the beauty was there.

  “May I call you Sonia, Servant?”

  “You may call me anything you like.”

  “I still like cunt muncher.”

  “Tessa, if you continue to speak this way, I’ll drown you myself.” The rat remained quiet. “Sonia. I have been away for a long time. My mind . . . wanders. As your princess, you are required to do as I say, yes?”

  “Of course. Anything you wish.”

  “Then I wish for you to speak to me openly. Will you do that for me? If you’d like to discuss it with your skull bug, I can wait.” />
  Sonia’s eyes moved from the princess back to the rat, Tessa, who the princess held up at shoulder length. “Anything you ask, m’lady.”

  “Good. And please call me Pretty. Will you help me with these clothes? The fabric whispers in a language I cannot understand.”

  Sonia pulled Pretty toward the tub and slid the crusty, soiled fabric off her body. The stench was almost unbearable, and Sonia turned her head and coughed.

  “Something the matter?”

  “You can’t smell it? I’ve never breathed in an odor as foul as that. And your brother’s feet could turn a horse into an ass, and his feet are his best feature, I can assure you of that.” Sonia sniffed the garment again. “No woman, whether princess or whore, should have to smell that way.”

  Pretty laughed and nodded. “I suppose my nose has grown used to it. The one I came in with, Prince Francis of Granada, he was too much of a gentleman to mention it, but I caught him turning away every now and again.”

  “Granada? He’s the banished prince?”

  “That’s right. And he’s just as much of a pansy as all the rumors, too,” the rat said, then was thrust under the water by the princess as she stepped into the tub.

  “He’s no knight. He’s better than that. Shy and kind. More concerned with my safety than my body.” Pretty sighed as she settled into the water, eyes fluttering. “I’ve forgotten how heavenly a warm tub of water could be. And don’t worry about Tessa. She’ll live. Rats have more lives than felines.”

  “It’s rotten. You know that’s a dead rat on your hand, don’t you, Pretty?”

  “Her body is dead, yes. But not Tessa. Her vocal cords have rotted away, so she uses mine to speak. Her skeleton was stolen by a crow, so she uses my hand for stability. But she is not dead. She’s been my very best friend for . . . Sonia? How long have I been away? It’s hard to keep track of time while trapped in a tower. And anytime I attempted to count the sunsets, the moon would shout numbers to confuse me.”

  Sonia wanted to ask the princess if she realized how mad she sounded when she said those kinds of things, but the poor woman had only been home a matter of hours. It was only right to allow her time to adjust to life amongst other people. But not much time. Soon, they would need to move forward with their plans, whether the princess was herself or not. “More than twenty years.”