Cassels Clarissa - Italian Women's Erotic Sins, Volume I

Giovanna Esse

This book is a creation of the imagination. Any reference to real people o objects is purely casual.

All rights reserved.

© Giovanna Esse - 2017

Translator: Clarissa Cassels

Editing and Paging: Pakal

Cover Image: Arianna del Filo

http://giovannastory.altervista.org

Publisher:

Tektime - Traduzionelibri.it

(http://www.traduzionelibri.it).

Credits

(for The iron Fairy)

A tender thank you to my friend “Princess” who has agreed to donate her story. In fact, this is a real story, interpreted with only with some crumbs of fantasy.

(for My Princess)

This is a true story. As sensual and sinful, angelic or infernal it may seem, it's true.

I’ve had to bare myself of my preconceptions and my education to be able to accept it… partly understand it, and finally love it.

The force of this story also comes from it’s “Source”, my friend. The most delicate, fine and sensitive girl I have ever had the honour of knowing. The same one who, a few years ago, donated to me the story of her youth, condensed by me: The Iron Fairy. I thank her and give her my unconditional affection.

Thank you A., sweet creature, wherever you are, maybe I cannot understand you but I am certain that from your “execrable” sense of Love scatterers culture, goodness and respect. While in my long proclaimed “moral” of the “civil world” only selfishness, lie, greed for power and war are born.

Often, who indulges in professing is only trying to hide his incapacity to learn, to change his disponibility to tolerance and respect towards others.

Reader

I thank those who have read me and I hope that these true stories, revisited with a lot of imagination, have been enjoyed.

I invite you to read the next volume, which features new, exciting, adventures.

A very special thanks to Clarissa Cassels.

She translated my words carefully. She allowed my book to cross the borders of my country. She has translated well everything except these phrases, which are all wrong ... but you will understand the same, because they come from the heart.

Giovanna Esse

Five Sins

The iron Fairy

A girl is always a mystery: there is only to rely on her face and the inspiration of one’s own heart.

E. De Amicis

1

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:

“My 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:

“Here 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.

2

Problems and solutions: mum's friend. (Reality)

“And this is Nicòle! See? I told you she is no longer a child. Time goes by fast, damn!” the girl's mother smiled at her old friend Flora. “Come on, Nicòle, shake Flora's hand and introduce yourself properly. Come on!” Her mother cared of making a good impression, of flaunting the daughter like a trophy to highlight how smart and lucky she had been. Nicòle puffed saucily and mimed a theatrical bow, sharpening the whole formal scene with a smile:

“Nice to meet you!” she said quickly “Sorry but my mother would make me parade like at the circus, if she could.”

“Of course!” said the mother, making full of her. “Because only in the circus you find parading monkeys like you!”.

Flora laughed entertained:

“There is only to say” she began “that you couldn't be more "diversely" similar.” She shook the small hand of the girl, looking at her from head to toe, “Your mum is right, you are truly beautiful… to be a little monkey, I mean!”. They all cackled.