Once there was a Princess Beauty...Jones. She lived up to her middle name very well, being a delight to the eyes, fair of skin... Well, not exactly. In fact she was so dark, there was talk about her family's negro chauffeur, talk her father rejected as slander on the character of a loyal family servant who never even asked for overtime when he had to drive Princess's mother on long trips into the country, to overnight feminist conventions, or to cheap motels. No, he was just happy to serve the family, as could be seen from his big smile even after a long night's work when he was obviously exhausted in the morning.
By her father's wish, Princess was kept an innocent virgin princess. And Princess obediently did as her father asked, and as other people asked. Naturally she would never have sex with any man, but holding hands is not sex, and kissing is not sex, and hugging is not sex, and being naked is not sex, and being fondled is not sex, and a hand job is not sex, and boob sex [for which Princess was very well suited] is not sex, and oral sex is not sex, and anal sex is not sex, and lesbian sex is not sex, and if he wears a rubber, it's not sex, and if he pulls out, it's not sex, and... At times Princess wondered if it was even possible for her to have sex. But all these very smart men kept telling her what wasn't sex, and she was just a innocent girl [innocent by some definitions anyway]. Who was she to say they were wrong? Especially when it was so much fun when they were right?
Her father might have had a different idea, but he was always so busy as the world most famous, or notorious anyway, botanist. Who has not heard about his man-eating plants? [They were pretty popular with Hollywood directors until the actors started to demand pay in advance.] And his exploding popcorn is really popular with the Pentagon, which is hard at work trying to find a way to get the enemy to eat it. Whenever there was a knock on the door, Princess was always unsure if it was the Nobel Prize people, a reporter, or more process servers. Father spent a lot of time hiding in his lab.
Generally hiding with him were one or more of his lab assistants, who were all very intelligent [Father said so, so they must be.], and all had d-cups, when they wore bras anyway. From this, Princess deducted that she was very very intelligent, a fact many men agreed with after studying the evidence closely, most insisting on additional checks to determine exactly how intelligent she was.
Princess also noticed that some of the assistants caught some sort of disease that caused their stomach to swell. These cases would leave for treatment, and thereafter her father would send them checks marked "c.s.". Princess thought it was very generous of her father to donate to support the cure of their cases of cancer of the stomach. [Her ability to observe so much and draw conclusions amazingly different from that that the ordinary mind would was so like her father's that most people dismissed any suggestions about the chauffeur.]
But with so many women getting sick in the lab, Princess was scared to go in there, particularly since her fairy godmother, Ralph, had warned the family that Princess had narco-roseum, and just a little prick from a rose thorn would send her into a deep sleep that would require a different prick to waken her from. She knew her father was working on a thornless rose, but had not been entirely successful. So the partly successful experiments were a danger to her. Still, those experiments did sound interesting, and she was curious...
So one day, Princess was walking past the lab and she realized the door was open. At first she was just going to shut the door and go see this cute guy who wanted to teach her more about what sex wasn't. But then she realized that she had not seen the last reporter leave. Maybe she was in the lab and stealing some of father's secrets, so maybe she should go in and check. That might be dangerous tho. Maybe she should get one of her parents, tho now that she thought of it, she wasn't sure where any of them were.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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