Little Red: A Lesbian Fairy Tale: Part One

Names blur. Truths hide beneath pretty lies. Take Little Red — a girl everyone thinks they know. They’ve got the fairy tale wrong. She bleeds for the first time, rules she was taught fall away, and the wood grows teeth. I am Ms. Flowers, Jelena Jensen, the one caught between agencies and low‑life alleys. Foxy, that greedy bitch Penny Pax, thinks she owns the streets I walk. Now she wants this fresh meat too. So does the social worker, April O’Neil, fresh from fucking over anyone who counts. I don’t mind sharing cuts, but I won’t miss my chance to spread Little Red open and ride that glossy mouth until it drips. I’ve watched her thighs tremble in that thin cotton dress, felt the throb between my own legs every time her tongue dragged across her lower lip. One taste and I’ll leave Foxy dry if I have to. Last night she heard Grandma Riding — Kendra Lust, legs spread in sheets the shade of sin — had been sniffed out by the state bitch. The news hit her like fever: she shook, foamed, tore my room to splinters. I pressed between her knees like any good physician to settle her thrashing. My fingers slicked, her hips jerked, and still I never found sleep. This morning the sheets stick to me, heavy with the scent of nearly lost control and the ache that tells me the hunt has only begun.