Alice tiptoed inside the cottage and walked down the hallway.
“Hello?”
No one replied.
“Ms. Cook?”
The hall led to a kitchen where a slender, big-busted woman crouched over broken plates and cups. She wore only an apron, leaving her backside completely exposed. “Why can’t I do anything right?”
Alice’s eyes stung from the powerful odor of chili peppers. She squinted hoping that would help. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I did.” The cook stood up straight and placed the broken pieces into a trash bin. “I stirred the wrong way.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no wrong way to stir.”
“And I’m no good in bed.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that!” The words came out of Alice louder than she had anticipated. Perhaps because she didn’t believe she was being truthful.
“Did you hear him?” The cook leaned on the kitchen counter staring at the rest of the broken dishes on the floor. “I’m no better than a piece of meat.”
Alice was about to say it wasn’t true, but she realized she had no way of knowing what the cook was like in bed.
“Look at me.” Alice took the cook’s hands. “Look at me!”
The cook did.
“There is nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman and any sensible man should feel privileged to know you and love you. The duke…” Alice paused. “Any man who dislikes you because of how you are in bed doesn’t deserve you.”
The cook took a deep breath and let it out. Alice felt like her words to the cook were truthful. But only about the cook. If anyone told Alice those same words she’d know they were lying. Just saying things to soothe her.
Why was that? Why did she feel it was so important to know how to please a man and at the same time the cook’s sexual inexperience didn’t matter? What was the truth? Was there any difference between the cook and herself that made sexual experience important?
Alice asked, “Why don’t you leave the duke?”
“And leave his baby boys? I could never leave the children. Now let’s have you breastfeed his baby boys before he comes home.”
The cook left the kitchen, perhaps to a bedroom. Alice didn’t understand what was expected of her.
“I can’t breastfeed,” Alice called out to the cook.
The cook came back in to the kitchen holding a giggling baby in each arm. Both babies were bundled in blankets so Alice couldn’t see them directly. She just saw the bundles and heard the giggles.
The cook said, “Of course you can. Come here.”
Alice approached.
The cook nodded to her chest and said, “Take them out.”
Alice scooped out her breasts over her dress’s neckline. To her surprise, dribbles of milk came from the nipples. That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?
“Take one of the babies,” the cook instructed.
Alice looked at them and didn’t see babies. They looked more like…starfish!
“Those aren’t babies!” Alice said. “What’s this all about?”
Both starfish lay upside down in their blankets. At the centers where their legs met each had two closed eyes and a giggling mouth, babbling incoherent words.
“Trust me,” the cook said.
Alice picked one up and listened to his gurgles. Then he yawned with his eyes scrunched closed. Alice placed the starfish at her breast, and he latched on to suckle peacefully.
The cook placed the other on Alice’s other breast, looked at Alice and smiled. “They seem to like you.”
Liz Adams
Alice's Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful World (Fairy Tale Erotica)