"You must never," said the King to his two daughters, "ever go into the woods at night. For within roam fearsome creatures beyond our comprehension, creatures who think nothing of abducting and defiling young maidens such as yourself."

The two women, Bronwyn, a full-breasted redhead, and Rhiannon, a younger, more modestly gifted blonde, were frightened by their father's words ever since he had first spoken them over fifteen years before.

"Do you really think the woods are that dangerous," whispered Rhiannon nervously to her sibling as they lay abed one night.

"Save for the occasional rogue who ravishes sweet virgins, I have heard not of anyone who has been taken by evil beasts!" teased the redhead.

"Oh, YOU are the wicked one!" huffed the younger before she threw the bedcovers over her head. Many's the night she lay awake, shivering at the prospect of being dragged into the bushes by some filthy snarling wolf-man, or lying chained and in rags in some cackling witch's lair.

And yet, as was the habit of many a young adult, they were apt to forget their elder's advice and engage in foolish behavior. Such was the state of these two maidens one All Hallow's Eve when they mischievously decided to take a moonlit ride on their favorite steeds, dressed only in their nightgowns.

They had not gone far when their attention was aroused by the sounds of revelry from the very forest they were forbidden to enter.

"A party!" sighed the redhead. "Why were we not informed of this?"

"Perhaps it is the fearsome creatures that father spoke of," warned Rhiannon.

"Poo! They don't sound fearsome to me!" And with that, the headstrong Bronwyn snapped her reins, and her steed galloped into the woods.

"Bronwyn, no!" But she was already gone. Her concern for her sister overriding her fear, the blonde went in after her.

She found her elder sister near the edge of a clearing. Together, they watched as masked and costumed partyers danced and cavorted to frenzied music, their laughter echoing through the trees.

"Oh, there are some handsome young men for me to snare. Let us join them!"

"But we have no costumes!"

"Then we shall make some." And with that, The elder daughter removed her horse's saddlecloth and draped it over her body. She belted it with the bridle reins, smudged her face with dirt, and hunched over. "I am but a poor beggar woman," she croaked. "Spare me some alms."

Rhiannon giggled. She tore her nightgown open to the hip, wrapped her silken scarf over her face, and tied her horse's harness bells around her waist. Striking a pose, she announced, "And I am Salome of the seven veils! Bring me the head of John the Baptist!"

Breathlessly, they stole throught the forest, until they found a place where they could sneak into the festivities unnoticed. They drank goblets of wine, laughed at ribald jokes, and danced merrily with muscular menfolk.

All went well, until an owl hooted three times, whereupon the revelry abruptly ceased.

"The moment has come to reveal thyselves!" said a commanding voice. As one, the partyers removed their masks. The two women, their arms around their male companions, stared into the faces of hideous hulking monsters.

Rhiannon screamed. Bronwyn tried to free herself, but her demonic mate pulled her close and locked his rough rubbery lips onto hers. As the redhead fought, she could feel his worm-like tongue plunge deep into her throat.

The chortling things threw the women to the ground, becoming sexually aroused at their captives' fear.

"Such soft young flesh."

"Such innocence."

A third one bent down and sniffed with a tiny blunt nose. "These fillies have escaped from their stable. Fetch me their restraints."

The girls realized that the beasts had smelled their horses' scent on them, but said nothing, perhaps hoping that they would be mistaken for their steeds and returned to the safety of the stable.

But this was not to be. The two were stripped of all their clothing, and their horses' bridles were fitted over their heads, somehow adjusting to their smaller features and turning to metal.

This was far worse than they could ever have imagined. Two of the demonic beasts mounted them and snapped the reins. The sisters had no choice but to run naked through the forest, terror beating in their hearts as massive hands fondled their womanly charms and snake-like male organs invaded their nether regions.

They were ridden back to their father's castle, where they could soon hear the cries of his subjects calling to them. Perhaps the brave knights of the realm would save them!

But as they trotted onto the grounds, in full view of the searchers, they saw that they were being ignored. With sinking spirits, they knew they had passed over into the netherworld, a place invisible to most mortals.

The king's daughters were never found, and they are presumed to still reside in some hellish stable, but the story has given rise to a secret custom in the region. Young women who do not show the proper subservience to their menfolk are stripped, bound, and bridled, then left in the forest at night. The humiliation of the experience, not to mention the prospect of becoming a demon's steed for eternity, is said to leave them much more humble and submissive. At least, that is true of the ones who are found . . .