So I've started trying my hand at writing dirty fairy tales, but I feel uncomfortable posting them with the...clean(er) fairy tales, so I decided to begin another fairy tale collection by Yours Truly. It'll probably be slow updating, but that's just something you'll have to live with.
Felix and the Pot of Pinks
Once there was a poor laborer, who had very little in the world beyond his two children. When this laborer felt that he was nearing the end of his life, he called his son and daughter to his side, and spoke to them of dividing his worldly possessions.
"Your mother's dowry consisted of two stools and a bed; I also have a hen, a pot of pinks and a silver ring which were given to me by a noble lady who asked to spend the night once." His eyes grew distant for a moment. "She said that I should name my daughter Felicia and that she would grow up to be the most beautiful maiden, and that then I should give her the silver ring and the flowers to comfort her in her poverty."
He chuckled then, which turned into a hacking cough. "I never liked nobles tellin' me what to do," he said. "That's why I named you Brenda, and your brother Felix. I defied her then, and I'll do so now; to Felix will go the ring and the flowers, while Brenda will have the rest of my possessions."
The two siblings seemed most content with this arrangement, and so their father died comforted that his children would be well-accounted for after his passing.
But once their father was dead and buried, and their friends and families had left for the night, Felix went to sit upon one of the stools which now belonged to his sister, and she grew quite wroth with him.
"Go and water your flowers," she said, "but leave my things well enough alone."
And so Felix stood, watching as his selfish sister ate the one egg from the hen. When she had finished she tossed him the shell. "What?" she asked when he looked at her in a most shocked manner. "I am a most lovely and growing girl, and I must eat if I am to remain that way."
Distraught, Felix went to his room and sat on his bed. "It seems that you are to be my only comfort, dear pinks," he told the pot of flowers. "I knew my sister was selfish, but this is simply beyond the pale." He lay back on his bed, hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "I suppose I shall have to go out tomorrow and try to sell the silver ring, since that is the only way I will eat this week."
Trying to think how to make the small change he would get from the ring stretch to last as long as possible, Felix soon drifted off to sleep.
As the moon drifted across the sky, Felix dreamed that a young man came to share the bed with him.
"Dear Felicia," the young man said.
"Felix," Felix corrected, wondering that his dream could make such a silly mistake.
"Felix?" asked the stranger, taking a closer look in the soft moonlight. "You're not a girl," he said.
"No," Felix agreed.
"Hmm," said the stranger, although he made no move to crawl off of Felix. "This is most unexpected. Not unsurpassable, mind you, but unexpected."
"Mm-hmm," Felix agreed absently, deciding that this was one of the most boring dreams that he had ever had. He freed a hand from the covers and rubbed experimentally at the stranger's shoulder, hoping to change the direction of the dream to something more interesting.
"You see," said the young man, twitching his shoulder away, "I am destined to fall in love with the one who owns my pot of pinks. I don't suppose you know what happened to the young maiden who was supposed to have the pot?"
Felix slid his hand to the young man's neck, following the soft skin there under the shirt until the young man caught his wrist and pulled it away.
"I suppose it must be my sister," Felix answered the stranger's question, hoping it would free his hand for more exploration. He explained about his father's stubborn refusal to follow the noble lady's directions concerning his daughter. "She's horrible anyway," Felix finished, arching his hips, since the young man had yet to release his hand.
"She is not a paragon of virtue and beauty?" asked the stranger.
Felix snorted. "She is fat, spoiled and selfish," he said, "and I'm fairly certain she's not a maiden anymore, either."
"And you?" the young man asked.
"I'm not even a girl," Felix said, "How could I be a maiden?"
"Are you spoiled?" asked the stranger, bringing Felix's fingers to his mouth and kissing them.
"No," Felix said, shifting his hips at the look in the young man's eyes.
"Are you selfish?" the stranger asked, kissing Felix's wrist and then letting it go, pressing down gently with his pelvis at the same time.
"N-no," Felix stammered.
"Are you beautiful?" was the next question, accompanied by another pelvic grind and two hands sliding into Felix's hair, tickling his scalp.
"N-noo," Felix moaned, his brain having traveled too far south to process the question correctly.
A soft chuckle was the stranger's response, his mouth finding a place between Felix's shoulder and chin and beginning to kiss and lick and suck there until Felix was squirming and panting beneath him.
Shifting to place a leg between Felix's own, the stranger began a soft rhythm, his pace increasing as Felix struggled to follow along. Having very little experience in this sort of thing, Felix was gone quickly, staring at the moonlit ceiling in a daze as the stranger thrust a few more times, until with a grunt and a shudder he finished as well.
"Don't forget to water the pinks," the stranger whispered into Felix's ear as Felix fell into a deeper and dreamless sleep.
The next morning Felix awoke far more content than he could ever remember being. Deciding to water his pinks first thing, he took the chipped pitcher from the side of his bed and, having no desire to chat with the villagers, he went to the old forest well. No sooner than he had filled the pitcher with water but he saw a most beautiful procession traveling along the old road to the well.
The procession was headed by a gentlewoman of surpassing beauty, who spent her time posed elegantly under a tree until the servants had lain out a golden blanket and covered it with soft pillows and luxurious blankets. When they had finished erecting a shade-tent over the whole affair, the beautiful lady left her posing and came to sit beneath it.
"Do you see that shepherd?" she asked, pointing directly at Felix. "Go and fetch him here."
The servant nodded and went to politely ask Felix if he would but join the lady beneath her canopy.
Felix agreed, watching the servants put out all kinds of food and goodies as he walked to her side.
"Come and join me," said the magnificent lady, gesturing to a pile of pillows at her side. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes, very much so," Felix replied, not having learned the proper etiquette for such proceedings.
The lady laughed and gestured for him to partake of whichever dish he should choose. "May I ask what brings you to this well?" she asked.
"I have come only to fetch water for my pot of pinks," Felix replied, holding up the pitcher at his side—only now instead of chipped porcelain, the pitcher was made of silver and encrusted with gems. The water it contained was as clear as crystal, and smelled more wonderful than the most fragrant of roses.
Stunned, Felix nearly dropped the pitcher, but the lady reached out a hand to help support it. "Do not fear," she said, "it is still your pitcher, with which to water your beloved flowers."
"Thank you," Felix said, setting the pitcher down carefully.
"Think nothing of it," said the wondrous lady, "only know that the Queen of the Forest is your friend."
Felix thanked her again, and they passed the morning companionably enough until Felix was quite ready to return home.
But before he left he offered the Queen of the Forest the tiny silver ring which he wore around his smallest finger—it was a lady's ring and far too tiny to fit any other of his own. "I wish that you would accept this ring as a token of my gratitude," Felix said.
"But it is all that you have save your pinks," said the Queen, "I could not accept such a gift."
"I insist," Felix said, "and besides, with your friendship I shall go far."
And so the Queen of the Forest accepted his ring, and Felix carried the water home in his new pitcher, careful not to let his sister see it as he passed her in the front room, for she would want it immediately.
Felix carefully watered the pot of pinks with the water from the pitcher, and while it was hard to tell with flowers, he thought that they looked immediately better, and that the heads of the flowers stood straighter and smelled stronger.
That evening Felix again dreamed of the stranger visitor.
"My mother is the Queen of the Forest," the stranger said while Felix attacked his neck with tongue and teeth.
"Mmm," Felix replied, one hand seeking out the bottom of the stranger-the prince's shirt.
"It's true," said the prince. "She had a friend, though, who was married to a mortal king. He was nice enough, from what I'd heard, but as my mother's friend bore him only daughters, the king began to be quite short with her, and blame her for the lack of a son."
Felix's hands explored under the prince's shirt, walking up and down his spine and caressing the flat planes of his shoulder blades.
The prince's breath caught as a few fingers tickled his sides, but he seemed determined to finish his story. "When the mortal queen found herself once again with child, the king locked her in a tower, threatening to have her head cut off if she should bear him another daughter instead of a son.
"Afraid, she called for my mother and explained her situation, and my mother agreed to help. If the mortal queen bore a girl-child, it would be replaced with my mother's own son, and the daughter would be raised by her quite happily as a princess of the forest."
Giving up on the skin under the shirt for not being distracting enough, Felix moved his hands down, stroking soft skin until he teased at the waistband of the prince's pants.
"The woman the king had chosen as a mistress—one whom he had promised to marry in the event of another daughter—was a witch," the prince said, although there was a certain concentration behind his words that had been lacking before. "She got wind of the plan and-" he interrupted himself with a moan as Felix's fingers ceased teasing and slipped below the tie on his pants.
Felix gently squeezed the prince's round and muscular bottom, first on one side and then on the other, fingers drifting near the crevice between them and away again.
"Ohh," the prince said softly, dropping his head to mouth at Felix's neck. "Sh-she got word of the plan, and- and-"
It took Felix a moment to realize that the prince was still trying to tell his story.
"Ss-she stole the ch-child, mm-me, en route, and the q-queen's d-daughter."
"Mm-hmm," Felix said, encouraging the grinding of the prince's hips with his hands and wrapping his legs around the prince's to pull him closer.
"A-ah," the prince said, part frustration and part surrender as he gave up on the story and thrust against Felix as though he wished to nail him to the bed.
Thrilled to have finally distracted the prince, Felix went for his ear, licking and nipping at it while the prince groaned and writhed against Felix's body. This time the prince came first, his body still and melting after in a way that would have left Felix wanting, if he hadn't been so close himself.
"Your sister's a princess," the prince whispered into Felix's ear, "and I'm the pot of pinks."
The dream faded and Felix awoke, lying awake until the faint light of dawn began to creep through the windows.
"So you're a prince," Felix said to the pot of pinks as he watered it with more of the water from the pitcher. "And I'm not related to my sister at all. I'm also, apparently, crazy, since I am talking to a bunch of flowers." He sighed and set the pitcher down on the bed. "If it's true—and I'm not saying I believe you," Felix told the flowers, "but if it's true, then I should take you back to your mother the Queen of the Forest, and let her sort all of this out."
Deciding that was the best course, Felix picked up his pot of pinks, hoping that the Queen would be at the forest well again. But he didn't get farther than the door of his room when there was a curious skritching and scratching and a thousand rats suddenly filled the floor of the hallway from wall to wall like a disgusting, moving carpet.
Barely keeping himself from screaming or otherwise ruining any claim to masculinity he had left, Felix stepped back into his room and slammed the door behind him.
"They are just rats," Felix told himself, trying to come to terms with what he had seen. His eyes roamed over the room, looking for something with which to defend himself and his pinks, when the pitcher caught his eye. "There's some water left," Felix thought, walking over to it. "I wonder if it will make a difference."
He lay hold of the pitcher and carried it to the door of his room. Bracing himself, Felix opened the door and splashed the water upon the rats. Those that it touched turned into dust, and the rest fled away into the smallest cracks and holes that they could find, until Felix was quite alone in the hallway, save for his pinks.
"Not exactly what I was expecting," Felix muttered, leaving his room at last.
He made it as far as the front door, where the beautiful Queen of the Forest was waiting for him.
"You have broken the spell! The rats were the last effort of our enemy to keep the curse in place," she said, taking the pot of pinks from him and kissing each flower gently. When she kissed the last one, the pinks disappeared, replaced by a young man who looked exactly like the one that had been visiting Felix's dreams these past two nights. He was wearing green pants that hung low on his hips, and a loose pink shirt that was ruffled in a manner that reminded one of the flowers he had so lately been. The front ties of the shirt were undone, and Felix thought he could see a mark partially hidden on the smooth chest of the prince.
"My own dear son," said the Queen, kissing the prince on the forehead.
"Mum," replied the prince, squirming just a bit, "this is Felix," he said, gesturing to Felix.
"Yes, dear, we've met," she said, smiling at Felix. "You are not what I expected when I left the pot of pinks with your father so many years ago, but I suppose it has all turned out for the best." She looked around the yard. "Where is your sister, though? I do wish to see how she has turned out."
Felix winced. "She is not much of a princess, I'm afraid," he said.
"I would like to judge that myself," said the Queen.
"Well there she is," Felix said, pointing to where his sister was just appearing along the path from town, a certain disheveled and satisfied look about her hinting at where she had lately been.
"Hmm," said the queen, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"I know she is not what you were expecting, either," Felix said, "but she is still my sister, and I wish her happiness and plenty."
"That is very generous of you," said the Queen. "Close your eyes," she added.
When Felix opened his eyes again, the house had turned into a small mansion, the mud-plot into a most attractive garden, and his sister's worn clothing into a fine dress.
"What is this?" Brenda squealed, running to her brother's side.
"You are a princess," Felix explained, "and this is all for you."
"Even this prince?" Brenda asked, eyeing the prince until he shifted to hide partially behind Felix.
"My son is spoken for," the Queen of the Forest said. "You will have to find your own love, I'm afraid."
"Pity," Brenda said, with a pout that looked almost attractive in her magically-improved dress.
"Felix," said the Queen, "if you've no objections, we really must be going now."
"Of course," Felix said, pausing only to give his sister a hug and wish her well before he joined the Queen of the Forest, who carried him and her son away to their happily ever after.
This one is from 'Felicia and the Pot of Pinks' in the Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. It doesn't resemble the original very closely, since I took out the talking cabbage. Among other things.