My grandmother told me this before she died four years before I was born...
Li’l Red Riding Hood…
My two younger sisters have enjoyed a much less sheltered life than I. Mother and father allow them to see boys and didn’t seem upset when they were caught fornicating with four of them in the hay loft yet they steadfastly refused to allow me to see boys... no, men… my age. They kept telling my time would come and I was too important to risk.
I had visions we were secret royalty and I was to be some prince’s bride. It is the night of the first full moon after my 21st birthday. Mother has me wear the most immodest garb beyond what I could imagine. She has me sit in Father’s wing-back chair and gives me a drink. I do not know what it is but the aroma alone is intoxicating.
Mother and Father place chairs before me and sit.
“Red, what I am about to tell you is going to sound unbelievable but it is all true” Mother says. “Your sisters are really only have sisters. You are the only daughter of your father. Your sisters are children of mine and the werewolf of the north forest.”
I don’t know what is in the drink but I take a huge slug. “Mother, it is 1748. No one believes in werewolves.”
“Really? And no one believes in witches either yet the church continues its inquisition” Mother replied.
“But they haven’t found a witch for years!” I retort.
“That’s because they don’t know what they are looking for” Father explains. “Your mother and sisters are witches.”
I cannot believe what I am hearing. “I have seen my sisters naked! They have not marks.”
“Of course they don’t and nor does your mother. But you, Red, are a vessel; a daughter of a witch and a human. Your sisters are witches but cannot reproduce until they drink the werewolf’s milk from a vessel.”
“..and I am that vessel?” I ask.
“Yes, you are” Mother says to me.
“Wouldn’t I have to be pregnant by this werewolf to make milk?”
“You cannot become pregnant by the wolf but you could have been by a human male. And had you been you could not produce the wolf’s milk and our bloodline ends.”
“I am getting confused” I reply. I am also getting a strange sensation between my legs and squeeze my thighs together…
tree
Li’l Red Riding Hood…
My two younger sisters have enjoyed a much less sheltered life than I. Mother and father allow them to see boys and didn’t seem upset when they were caught fornicating with four of them in the hay loft yet they steadfastly refused to allow me to see boys... no, men… my age. They kept telling my time would come and I was too important to risk.
I had visions we were secret royalty and I was to be some prince’s bride. It is the night of the first full moon after my 21st birthday. Mother has me wear the most immodest garb beyond what I could imagine. She has me sit in Father’s wing-back chair and gives me a drink. I do not know what it is but the aroma alone is intoxicating.
Mother and Father place chairs before me and sit.
“Red, what I am about to tell you is going to sound unbelievable but it is all true” Mother says. “Your sisters are really only have sisters. You are the only daughter of your father. Your sisters are children of mine and the werewolf of the north forest.”
I don’t know what is in the drink but I take a huge slug. “Mother, it is 1748. No one believes in werewolves.”
“Really? And no one believes in witches either yet the church continues its inquisition” Mother replied.
“But they haven’t found a witch for years!” I retort.
“That’s because they don’t know what they are looking for” Father explains. “Your mother and sisters are witches.”
I cannot believe what I am hearing. “I have seen my sisters naked! They have not marks.”
“Of course they don’t and nor does your mother. But you, Red, are a vessel; a daughter of a witch and a human. Your sisters are witches but cannot reproduce until they drink the werewolf’s milk from a vessel.”
“..and I am that vessel?” I ask.
“Yes, you are” Mother says to me.
“Wouldn’t I have to be pregnant by this werewolf to make milk?”
“You cannot become pregnant by the wolf but you could have been by a human male. And had you been you could not produce the wolf’s milk and our bloodline ends.”
“I am getting confused” I reply. I am also getting a strange sensation between my legs and squeeze my thighs together…
tree
. The only thing he ever painted with that was snow, dirt
