Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a beautiful girl whose name was Ashley but who acquired the name Ashsweeps, or Ash, since it was her job to sweep the ashes from the hearth every morning, gather the wood and light the new fire.  She was also the cook, did the laundry, mended clothes, fed the animals, milked the cow and much else.  

Her mother died when she was quite small.  Her father, feeling lonely and unsuited to raising his child on his own quickly remarried. Two children followed, both girls.  At first her stepmother was good to her but after her own two came into the world her attitude changed.  Even though Ash had to do all of the cooking if she so much as ate an extra dry biscuit to appease her hunger her stepmother would fly into a rage, shaming her, calling her fat and disgusting, saying she would never even get to marry the village idiot if she kept eating like that, that it was enough to put any man off.  Meanwhile her two daughters giggled and helped themselves, growing plumper by the day.  

The injustice of this treatment only vaguely occurred to Ash.  She believed what her stepmother said of her.  She did all of the housework and the two younger daughters did nothing but eat, make themselves up, and indulge in various vanities and frivolities.  And so Ash worked her young hands to the bone, weak with hunger and bowed down with shame, and received nothing but abuse.  Her father, while a good man, was weak and aloof from the dynamics of the household.  He was a merchant and travelled a great deal.  When home he usually went to the pub after supper and stayed there until he was ready to come home for bed.

On his trips away he usually contrived to bring home three presents, one for each of his daughters.  Once his back was turned however, the stepmother would quickly appropriate for herself or her daughters whatever was given to Ash.  On one of his trips back to town, having bought some bolts of cloth for his youngest two, his head happened to brush the branch of a laden hazelnut tree.  He snapped off the branch and put it away for his eldest.  

Shortly after she went to the well to fetch water and accidentally dropped the branch therein.  When she returned home her stepmother mocked her to her face and also to her husband, telling him it was a good thing he hadn’t spent any money on so worthless a creature.  

Later on when Ash had a moment to herself she returned to the well and looked down into it.  A dwarf appeared at her side saying: “It’s no use looking for that branch it’s long gone, but anytime you visit this well, say this rhyme and I will be at your disposal: 

Now although the hearth I sweep, 

A princess’ heart shall be mine to keep, 

Although I clean the sooty flue, 

She will love me as her princess true.

Recently a handsome prince had arrived in the kingdom, having travelled, he said, from a far distant kingdom, in search of a bride.  His noble bearing, the rich trappings of his carriage, and the great riches that he arrived with all supported his claims and the king made him welcome, hoping to find friendly favor with this wealthy rival kingdom from far away.  

The prince claimed that an enchantment had fallen over his land. Every year their crops failed and the people were starving. Thus his journey to find a suitable bride whom, their seers and prophets said, would break that enchantment and return prosperity to their land.  To this end the king was to give a grand ball to which all were invited, the high and the lowborn.

In anticipation of this ball Ash was set to work to make fine dresses for each of her sisters.  She stitched, she sewed, she hemmed and fitted and refitted and still neither her stepmother nor her half-sisters were ever satisfied.  By this time the girth of her two siblings was quite formidable and no amount of cinching and girdling on Ash’s part could make them look as they wished to.  In exasperation, she left the house and found her way to the well.  Remembering the dwarf’s poem she recited it.  

At once the dwarf rose from the depths of the well and it was as if the gloomy shadows of the forest cleared, a supernatural light shone and nature herself seemed to sparkle with jewels.   A rainbow appeared and through it Ash saw a beautiful form come into view, a woman’s naked body seen from the back, bathing in a golden tub, soapsuds cascading over her curves.   A wet trail of auburn tresses caressed her supple back.  Ash stood spellbound.  She felt a warm glow within she had never known before.  The woman turned slightly showing an exquisite profile; her hard nipples bounced under her touch as she soaped her full, heavy breasts. 

Ash’s heart raced and blood rushed to her head.  She felt a thrilling moist tingle between her legs and had no idea why, only a vague notion that the vicar might not approve.  The dwarf simply sniggered knowingly.

“This is the princess of that far-away realm; she is in the bath at the royal palace. She has accompanied the prince in his search to rid their kingdom of it’s sterile blight.” the dwarf said, “her beauty is matchless, yet it is not for any man to know.  You must teach her the secrets of love to find your own destiny.  Your stepmother will never let you attend the ball but when the day arrives come here and I will see to it that you can go.”

The night of the ball arrived.  Ashsweeps helped her fat sisters into their dresses and they departed, leaving her at home.  She made her way to the well, pronounced the rhyme and the dwarf appeared as promised.  He gave her fabulous garments to wear, a flowing silken ball gown, a golden tiara and a pair of silver stilettos.  Underneath she wore the most comfortable underthings she’d ever known, all of silk, and stockings with garters that encased her exquisite thighs.  These were like soft caresses on her skin.  Although only Ashsweeps herself knew of these hidden treasures it made her feel wonderful to have them on. 

The dwarf found an oversized squash hidden in the undergrowth, spoke an incantation and it transformed into a magnificent coach.  Two mice fucking in the hole of a nearby tree he changed into two majestic steeds and a frolicking hare became a liveried coachman.  Ash entered the coach, the hare brandished his whip and in a flash she was at the ball. 

Having arrived at the opulent palace she hastened from the coach as the hare, wiggling his nose and munching a piece of lettuce, called after in a chirpy squeak that the spell would be broken at midnight.  

She climbed the palace steps and entered.  She was amazed by the great mass of people assembled there, although one could tell who could afford to dress for the occasion and who was trying to pull one off.  

Inside the flickering flames of great torches lit the vast corridors to illuminate priceless tapestries depicting heroes, dragons, saints and forlorn damsels.  Black pungent trails of smoke rose and cast eery shadows over the ornate vaults and buttresses in the wavering light.  Guards stood grim-faced and expressionless, pikes handy, every few yards.

Ash’s beauty was such that everyone, commoner and noble, noticed her.  Voices hushed at her approach and swelled into appreciative murmurs in her wake as she walked cautiously through the lavish party.  Her sisters noticed her as well and in their jealousy said spiteful things about her, but as she was not covered in ash and grime and clad in filthy rags they failed to recognize her.  

A bell rang in the great dance hall summoning the guests to the cotillion.  The King and Queen had their seats on a dais along with two dignified and attractive guests:  A young man of noble and gallant bearing, clearly the foreign Prince and next to him, and there could be no doubt it was her, the very same Princess the dwarf had shown her in the vision by the well.  She was looking around curiously but uneasily, as if hopeful but prepared to be disappointed.  

She was dressed in a fantastic gown and bejewelled with enormous rubies and diamonds, yet  the beauty of her face outshone the brilliance of her finery as the sun the flame of a candle. She reminded Ash of a certain painting of the Madonna by one of the Old Masters. She had seen it once on her way to unclog the cathedral toilet.  

The Prince by comparison clearly possessed a certain charm but left her cold.   Still she thought, anything to get me out of this shithole of a village.

The night passed in a whirl.  Ash was passed from one dance partner to another and duly enchanted them all.  As the great clock struck eleven she found herself curtsying to the Prince.  With a broad smile he elegantly took her hand and they glided into a waltz.  Although Ash had never waltzed before somehow she performed perfectly.  It seemed to her that her silver heels were dancing for her, telling her feet exactly where to go.  When it came time to switch partners the handsome prince declined and danced another with Ash, and another.  The fire in his eyes seemed to smolder more and more brightly as the night went on, or was it simply the reflection of the torch flames?  She became quite exhausted.  

Next she glanced at the great clock it was two minutes until 12.  She apologized to the Prince while insisting she must go.  He tried to persuade her to stay, offering to introduce her to the royals but to no avail.  She broke away and rushed through the crowded ballroom.  She did not want to be seen in this company, at this place, in her tattered clothes, with her aura of beauty stripped away.  She thought they would all laugh at her.

She rushed down the palace steps, fending her way through an endless sea of wine-sipping poshies.  She saw the great squash-like carriage, the mousy horses and the hare who brandished his whip and beckoned her on as his long ears tittered with anxiety.  

Some workmen had left a patch of tar drying on the strip next to the drive on which the hare had parked and Ash cried out as her foot stuck, her ankle twisted and the shoe came off and glued itself on its side to the black mire.  She limped as quickly as she could the rest of the way and flung herself into the carriage as it drove away.   Only a half mile or so from her home, the spell broke, she was flung to the ground, the squash smashed under her bottom, and the hare and mice scampered away.  She walked the rest of the way in her tattered clothes.

For the next few days she worked at her chores listlessly, lost in dreams.  She waltzed again when she had a moment free but not with a handsome prince or rich baron, only a dusty broom.  Her reveries made her wistful and sad.  Was that to be the only night of happiness in her life?  She thought most of all of the princess.  She had been so busy dancing she lost sight of her.  She wondered if she dared hope that she had taken any notice of her.  In all of the days since the ball she had never managed to be completely alone when drawing water at the well and she was avid to summon the dwarf again.

Soon word came out that the prince had made his selection.  He had fallen in love that night, with whom he did not know, but he vowed to seek this angel to the ends of the earth if need be.  And soon strange messengers, retainers of the prince, started making door to door rounds.  Strange because of their request, that all of the marriageable young ladies in the household should try on a single silver stiletto heel, slightly caked with tar.

It soon became apparent that this was an unusually small shoe size for the young ladies of this particular kingdom as none of them could quite fit it on.  The retainers, the young prince being far too important for such mundane matters, passed from house to house without a successful fitting.  Word of course got around.

The retainers eventually found their way to Ash’s home.  The eldest of her two sisters had a plan in view and enlisted Ash’s help who dutifully wound a cord of rope as tightly as possible around the sisters’ enormous foot until it was red as a radish.  She just managed to fit the shoe on and the prince’s men took her away to the royal carriage waiting outside.

Just a moment later however the same sister was flung through the door again.  

“Right no monkey business heah, who’s the next sistah?”  

At which point the youngest took Ash into the next room for a more daring procedure.  She downed a hasty mixture of beetwort and whiskey and Ash sawed off the two smallest toes off her left foot.  She did not want to do it but her sister was very ambitious.  The screams were explained to the prince’s men as the cries of tormented ghosts.

A quick cauter with the smoldering end of a torch later and the youngest sister, although pale and trembling with pain, fit on the shoe and was carried out to the prince’s carriage.

She was also flung through the door only moments later.  

“Heah, this bitch could turn milk sour and she’s got half a foot, haven’t you got any ovvers?”

The eyes of all present fell on Ash.  She knew the shoe would fit and although she longed to escape her wretched life she was ambivalent about being the prince’s bride.  Perhaps though she would become friends with the princess, assuredly so, they would be related, they would love each other, she would be able to serve her in any way the princess desired.

Emboldened, she slid the shoe effortlessly onto her dainty little foot.  The prince’s men seemed genuinely impressed now and took her kindly away to the royal carriage.  She could hear the barely suppressed oaths and hatred of her stepmother and sisters as they led her away.

In the cab, instead of the expected figure of the prince she was greeted with the vision of her dreams, cloaked in the perfumes of lavender and honey that emanated from the skin of the princess.  She smiled sweetly and sensed Ash’s confusion.  She caressed Ash’s hair lovingly who felt her heart warm like rich butter over an open flame.  The carriage started into unhurried motion.

“You look confused my dear.  Let me explain.  Our augurs have divined that only with the advent of a joint reign of queens can the pestilence that has befallen our land ever be lifted.  We know that your kingdom is a bit...backwards...in terms of the conjugal love of two of the same sex, therefore we chose this ruse, that we might find the heir of our kingdom a bride when in fact I am the eldest and under our rules the rightful heir.  We were, the prince and I, searching for a bride for me. My father is old and infirm and soon I shall be queen.  And I demand a queen of my own not only in order to break the enchantment but also according to my natural inclinations.  Do you understand me my sweet?  I have loved you since I saw you in the arms of my, very gay by the way, brother dancing the waltz in those impossibly high heels.  How could anyone but a natural queen accomplish such a task?  It only remains for me to ask: Do you feel the same?”

As the princess spoke she held Ash’s calloused careworn hands in hers and caressed them lovingly, even kissing them.  This touched Ash to the core, tears came to her eyes and by way of answer she kissed her on the lips.

“You will rule beside me my Ashley and our kingdom will be one of love, in perpetuity.”  

Their clothes, both the costly garments of the princess and the rags of the poor commoner were soon discarded.  They discovered one another little by little, kiss by kiss, with the blinds of the royal equipage drawn, in sometimes awkward but always glorious loveplay.  When satiated they lay in each others’ arms content.  Ash felt the distance, constantly growing until it seemed immeasurable, between her and the dark world behind her.

All was quiet but for the slow clopping of the horses’ hooves, the singing of legions of birds in the adjacent meadows and the lowing of cows in the field. The midafternoon sun shone bright.  A misty rain fell just long enough to give birth to a perfect rainbow, an intact arc over the path that the carriage followed over the horizon, gently and at ease, to where their kingdom awaited them.