DSM Part 4 (Patreon)

Now where am I? Tony wondered. He was in the woods, obviously—not many fairy tales took place in a Wendy’s. It didn’t look like the dark kind of woods where you’d run into a wolf, but still, spotting a cottage in the distance, Tony hurried along to approach it. It was one hell of a cottage, built into a formidable redwood tree, with a water wheel alongside it drinking into a nearby stream. The kind of retreat Tony—not an outdoors type—might take a supermodel who was. All it needed was a Jacuzzi… Now that he was close enough to see it in detail, he was also close enough to hear a gentle singing. That ahhhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh, ahhhhh-ahhhhhh-ahhhhhh, ahhhhhh-ahhhhhhhh-ahhhhhh Disney princesses felt compelled to direct to birds and other small woodland creatures. Well, it beat the Smashmouth song a Dreamworks princess would sing. Tony approached the stream, finding a riverbank that ran down to the water in a swath of pebbles. There was a lovely young woman sitting there, wavy hair shining down her back in shades of gold, her tall and slender figure continuing down behind her semi-translucent skirt. She was a looker, even in not particularly flattering clothes: gray skirt, black bodice over a gray blouse. A black headband kept her hair together. A white petticoat and purple shawl laid underneath her, cushioning her body as she masturbated. Ahhhhhh-ahhhhhhhh-ahhhhhhhhh, she sang, her thighs spread wide apart inside her rucked skirt, one hand fingering her golden-tufted cunt, the other reaching inside her blouse to cup a pert breast and tweak the hardened nipple between her thumb and forefinger. A wet sound was almost lost in the babble of the stream as she massaged vigorously between her legs, stopping only to rub at her swollen bud of a clitoris. She took her left hand away from her breast, slipping the middle finger inside herself, but quickly returned it to her apple-sized breast, crooning a little disappointedly as her pleasure only partially resumed. “Need a hand?” Tony asked, and her singing crashed to an abrupt stop. The woman quickly pulled her skirt down over her legs, smoothing it down, then quailing as she noticed her fingers leaving wet marks down the material. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” she demanded, facing him. She had violet eyes, with a sharp, refined face and lips as red as a rose. “Who are you?” Tony retorted. “And I’d ask what you’re doing here, but it’s pretty obvious.” She flushed even deeper than she had been before. “Don’t tell my mothers?” “Mothers? Plural?” “Yes,” she said, adjusting her skirt again. “I live here in the woods with my three mothers.” Hot. “So where are they?” “They had to go pick up supplies from town. That’s probably where you were headed. It’s easy to get lost on the way there, there’s no path. I’ve never gone myself. In fact, you’re the first man I’ve seen outside a storybook.” She smoothed her skirt out again over her long, bare legs. “But don’t think I’m going to fall in love with you or anything, just because of that! Sure, you look handsome, but that could just be a lack of variety talking. Maybe you’re really very ugly, Mister…” “Stark. Tony Stark.” Tony had perfected saying that in a way that got women off, and here she couldn’t even accuse him of ripping off James Bond. “I’m Aurora,” she said, flushing again. “Wait a minute! You don’t have a prick, do you?” “A what?” Aurora leaped up, her blouse falling open with the motion. She had to pull it shut to hide a glimpse of her nipples. “A prick! My mothers warned me that before my nineteenth birthday, which is in just a few weeks, I would prick myself and fall into a deep, enchanted sleep, so I have to be very careful about pricks!” Tony thought he knew this one. They just did that Angelina Jolie movie about it, right? Shit, why couldn’t he get to screw Maleficent? Even if it was after Jolie’s ‘eating things’ period—something he couldn’t say about Aurora. She wasn’t one of those women who needed a cheeseburger. She was fine just as is. “You didn’t answer my question, Tony!” Tony snapped out of it. “Well, yeah, I do, but I don’t think that’s the kind of prick they meant.” He’d gone to the Maleficent premiere with Pepper, who was big into those remakes that made a story more feminist by taking out all the good stuff and filling it with crap, and judging by how retarded the fairies had been in that movie, it was no wonder that they hadn’t properly explained to Aurora the difference between a prick, verb, and a prick, noun. Heck, they probably let her use ‘literally’ when she meant figuratively. And if they were half as creepy-looking as that Disney movie, he doubted he would listen to them either. Not when his inner monologue was reciting the Lord’s Prayer over and over again. Christ, he really hadn’t liked Maleficent at all. At the time, he’d written it off as a mediocre but okay remake with some strong work from Jolie, but now that he thought about it, the story really didn’t work at all. He was revoking the pass he’d given it. Shit, what reason had it had to exist at all? Was a story now misogynist if the villain was a woman? It wasn’t like they’d portrayed Maleficent as a villain because she was a woman. She just happened to be a woman, the same way Hans Gruber in Die Hard just happened to be a man. That wasn’t misandrist; why should a female villain be misogynist? Wasn’t it far more offensive to say that a woman was made a villain—or a kinda, sorta villain who never did anything that was acknowledged as that evil—because she was symbolically raped? “Well, what kind of a prick is it then?” Aurora asked, but Tony held up his finger. “One sec.” What about the Queen in the movie, who married King Stefan? She never did anything wrong, but because of Maleficent’s actions, she never knew her own daughter, and Aurora never knew her. That was terrible. And then she died. She didn’t even get to know her daughter after the sixteen years were up, Maleficent got to step in and be surrogate mother to this poor, neglected girl that was effectively orphaned by her own actions. What, she couldn’t have just killed Stefan and be done with it? She spent sixteen years sticking to the ‘kill a child’ plan and then gets a pass for it because she backed out at the last minute? What the hell? If you’re going to hold Stefan accountable for his crimes, how come Maleficent gets off? Sure, Stefan stole her wings, but he was a poor guy trying to get ahead in life while she was some princess of the Moors who never worked a day in her life. If that doesn’t excuse Stefan’s actions, then how come his weird kid movie date rape excuses Maleficent’s? “Seriously, what kind of prick do you have?” Aurora insisted. And why did the fairies look like such horrible circus freaks? Tony’d seen Hook—Tinkerbell looked fine in that movie. It’d been, what, twenty years since then? They couldn’t just green-screen the fairy actresses into close-up, then CGI the long shots? Or just make them big all the time? Maleficent was big all the time. It would be consistent, at least. “What does your prick even look like?” Aurora demanded. “Like this!” Tony shot back, fed up, and undid his zipper. “Oh my,” Aurora said, suddenly silenced by the appearance of his erect cock shooting out. Despite his consternation over the subpar remake of a Disney classic, a pretty eighteen-year-old girl masturbating in front of him had had its effect. Aurora gaped at his size: her mind insisting that perhaps he was on the small side and other men were even bigger, while her pussy immediately knew that a cock that size would feel so much better than her own fingers. She reached down and drew her skirt up her legs. “I should probably put this away…” Tony said, struggling to fit his cock back into his fly when it was steadily growing at the sight of Aurora. Aurora reached back down between her legs. “Don’t you dare! I was just about to come when you interrupted me! Do you know how many chances I get to come, living in the woods with three moms? I’m so hot, Tony, you can’t leave me like this—let’s go inside.” In ten seconds, they were inside the cottage. In ten minutes, he was inside of Princess Aurora. *** “This is my mothers’ bed,” Aurora explained, stripping off her clothes beside a bed big enough for the Three Stooges. “Not right now it isn’t,” Tony replied, shoving her down on it and pulling her skirt away himself. “Touch yourself some more. I didn’t quite catch that the first time.” “Oh yes!” Aurora cried, staring at his hand as he gripped his cock and pumped it to full readiness. “Do that! It makes me feel so warm! I’ll watch you, and you’ll watch me, and then you’ll fuck me!” Tony nodded, cock in hand, and watched Aurora as she leaned back, spreading her thighs. Her cunt was very wet. It squished when Aurora put her hand on it, entering herself with her middle and index fingers, her hand rolling swiftly from above her clitoris to her taint. Moans oozed past her pursing lips, her thighs quivering, her body stiffening in rapture. “I’ve never done this inside before,” Aurora panted with excitement. “Always felt like I’d get caught! But now I love the thought of being caught! I want everyone to see me with your prick!” Tony pulled on his rigid cock. “I like that. Keep talking. Tell me what it feels like to be touched by someone as pretty as you.” Aurora blushed at his compliment. “It feels good, hot and wet—so wet. Fingers keep slipping off my clit… I’m so close… about to come again… never happened this fast before, but I’m all hot and tingly and wet!” Tony’s cock was hot and swollen, prickling in the cool air of the cottage. He didn’t want to come just from jerking off. He walked over to the bed, now hearing the wet movement of Aurora’s fingers inside herself. Leaning over her, he grasped her hands and held them above her head, Aurora whining, wiggling her hips trying to resume her pleasure. Tony stooped over her, kissing her, leaving her hands lost above her head as his own trailed down her body. Aurora could think of nothing but his gentle touch, the molten feeling of a man’s body suddenly replacing the cool air around her, his naked body muscular, male. When he lifted his lips from hers, it let out a hoarse groan, and Tony smiled at her arousal. She brought her hands up around his back, finding it hard with muscle, stroking and caressing them with her fingertips as he kissed her again. When it stopped this time, it was he that groaned. “Reach down,” Tony said hoarsely. “Touch it. Put it in.” He lifted himself between her spread thighs and Aurora obediently reached down, looked down, to see his stiff shaft and to hold it lovingly in her fingers. Tony insistently shifted his hips forward. She placed the huge knob between the lips of her virgin cunt, felt him pass through her fingers as he moved forward slowly, but with power. Her head flew back against the pillows, eyes closed, lips contorted around a shriek of surprised pleasure. “It’s so biiiiiig…” Aurora moaned, happily loopy on her own arousal, his slow consumption of her. “Oh God… do it slowly… you’ll rip me in two…” “I like one of you just fine,” Tony quipped, going as slow as he could. He wasn’t trying to gain much ground, not yet. His cockhead inched past her swollen lips, feeling her tightness, stopping after a few seconds. Aurora’s jaw dropped. She’d expected to accommodate him fairly easily, splayed open from fucking herself, but she could barely handle his glans, let alone the threatening length of his shaft. Tony let his cockhead burn against her tender, virgin flesh for a few moments, forcing it to expand, to accept his massive size. His passiveness frustrated Aurora, who couldn’t help herself from bucking against Tony, trying to force him inside her despite the pain. Tony kissed her again, found Aurora growling into his mouth, then he flipped them over so she was on top of him. “Have at it,” he told her. Aurora stared down her body at his, his cock straight up, her cunt positioned atop it. She held her breath. Tony closed her eyes. He wanted to feel it. In one swift moved Aurora lunged down, burying half of his cock inside her. She cried out as she twisted her body down on his. “Oh, Tony!” She’d had her fingers, her broomstick, two of her mothers’ wands, and once, even her fist inside herself, but with Tony’s cock even halfway in, she felt like she was in heaven. She kissed him, rubbing her heaving breasts against his kinky chest hair, running her hands over his novel, masculine body. It was all so strange, so magical. It seemed like a miracle, having him make love to her. Before she knew it, Tony had rolled on top of her again. He held himself over her, the base of his cock throbbing. It wanted the same treatment the head was getting. “Ready for the whole thing?” Tony gasped into her mouth. “Because I can’t hold back anymore.” “Yes!” Aurora murmured. She felt fear at the prospect of having even more of him inside her when already, it felt like her cunt was straining to hold him in, but the fear did something to the pleasure, made it sharper, made her even more excited. Her cunt was rippling, warming, buzzing. It needed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck me! Fuck me apart!” With a roar, Tony stabbed himself into Aurora’s churning cunt, ending her virginity. He could feel her unopened passage being forced apart, expanding to accommodate his size, and as Aurora let out an answering scream, he came inside her, further filling her taut sheath. “Yes! Yes!” Aurora cried, feeling every inch of his cock throb with his ejaculations, each one sending echoing pulses all through her. She came as he kept filling her up, his cum taking up even more of her space than his shrinking cock had. “You’re the best, the best, I love you!” Tony let out a short, tension-breaking laugh as he crammed in one last pitch of cum, his cock slinking out of her, leaving a lake of white between her thighs. The pleasure over, the aftershocks continuing, Aurora’s eyes rolled back in her head and she settled back against her pillow, cooing softly. Sleeping Beauty. “At least you were awake for this,” Tony mused, recalling how Snow White hadn’t been so lucky. “What was that?” “Nothing.” “Aurora, we’re home!” came a greeting from outside the house. Aurora murmured in her sleep. Tony moved to jostle her awake, but his hand passed through her. He was already fading out. Nothing he could do about Aurora’s mothers catching her in a… sticky situation. (Tony mentally put on sunglasses.) Well, she was getting off easy. At least she wasn’t in that shitty movie. And why did they change it so that instead of turning into a dragon herself, Maleficent turned someone else into a dragon? The raven guy, right? Was he a love interest? Wasn’t that bestiality? He was just a random raven Maleficent came across, right, so did that mean that all animals were intelligent, but just couldn’t speak? If Maleficent went to a restaurant and ordered a steak, did someone have to murder a cow with hopes and dreams, all because no one ever took the trouble to turn a cow into a person and give him a chance to explain himself? *** More woods. This was getting to be like Lost, and even they’d had a beach. And a cave. A hatch. A… lighthouse. Temple. Village. How big was that island, anyway? No, he wasn’t thinking about Lost. He’d lost enough time trying to figure out Maleficent. He concentrated on the trees. Still didn’t seem like one of those dark, twisted-up forests he had to worry about. This was more bright, sunny. One of the tree trunks had a wanted poster on it. ROBIN HOOD. No picture. Tony guessed there weren’t that many people in green tights running around the forest. Well, he hoped not. “Robin, is that you?” a female voice called, and Tony turned around, hearing someone rustling through the brush. “No. I’m Batman,” Tony replied. “What?” she asked, coming closer. Nice voice, too. Kinda British, but not Billie Piper British. Just British enough. She emerged, struggling with twigs catching on her headdress, her skirt, but managed to gratefully extricate herself from them to face Tony. “Ah, hello.” Someone had dressed up a fox as Queen Guinevere. “I’m Maid Marian.” “Oh hell no.”