Italian Women's Erotic Sins, Volume I. Giovanna Esse

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      A fairytale… with as much as a Fairy and a Princess, a hut in the woods and an enchanted trail.

      Once upon a time, there was a young princes named Dawn.

      One day the king and queen, her parents, decided that the small reign, that the good God had reserved for them, was too limited and the money, to such a royal couple, was never enough. Beyond the woods, not too far away, there were other realms… all of wealthier and more sumptuous appearance. Certainly, emancipated, they could enhance their noble lineage, entertain relationships and friendships with important families; increasing their prestige and finally, perhaps, they could find that wonder that we all seek but no one ever finds: the Source of eternal youth.

      As it is known, on the other side of a dark forest one can find anything, perhaps this is why each person undertakes the same journey without asking too many questions. So the royals made their bags and left, together with their dearest people and princess Dawn, their beloved daughter.

      The journey soon became exhausting and full of dangers. The woods are always mysterious and intricate: by day full of illusions but by night inhabited by ghosts and nightmares. The illusions push the brave wayfarers to overcome ordeals that await them, but the ghosts scare them and make them lose orientation and safety.

      Overcome by the many and unexpected obstacles adventures, the queen realized she didn’t have time to take care of the young princess. So she remembered that, long before, she had met a very special fairy that lived in the forest, in a small place not too far away. Not that she blindly trusted her, but deep down, just like satyrs and mermaids, fairies are just a figment of our hopes and imagination. The forest is insidious, confuses the traveler and fear often leads us to hasty choices. She summoned the little Dawn and said:

      â€œMy dear, our journey is more complicated than what we could have wished for.

      By now, as you can see yourself, all around us the plants have become an inextricable tangle, and the trails are more and more obscure. We started amid the rolling hills and now we are surrounded by ravines and gullies. The light no longer filters joyously from the tall green treetops, leaving in its place only darkness, cold and dampness. I don’t want you to suffer for our difficulties, there are thousands of paths, many of which are wrong and others that don’t lead anywhere…!”

      The princes hang from her mother’s lips, young as she was she did not realize the pitfalls she could have been encountering. Happiness, to her, was to be with her parents; her world only extended until there. That was her only measure of joy. The queen continued: “This is what we will do! While we attempt to get out of this situation, you will wait for us in the home of a fairy I met a long time ago, an old friend. I still remember where the little road that leads to her house begins, come!”. Taking her by the hand she lead her to a nearby clearing. “There” said the queen, pointing with her finger at a delightful alleyway, “Look carefully! That is the path that leads to her house. You can’t go wrong because at the entrance there is that sign on an old pole.” Dawn sharpened her eyes and in fact saw a small pole on the edge of the path, with a little post carved from the trunk of an ancient tree. “There, go to her have faith in her hospitality. Every now and then we will meet here, until we will have found our way.”

      They kissed and hugged and not without a shade of fear, Dawn watched her mother get lost in the undergrowth. Her discomfort only lasted a moment, then with typical curiosity of young people, she hurried along the path indicated by the ancient sign.

      On the wood she could barely read an epigram faded by time:

      â€œHere lives the Iron Fairy.

      She loves everybody and nobody.

      She defies life but fears it.

      When she rejoices… later it hurts.

      She is not a real Fairy

      But she can’t even be

      A real Witch.”

      The blurred letters, penned with the colour of rusty blood, affected the little princess, but she decided to walk the alley which, with each step enriched with flowers, colors and perfumes of Guerlain.