I got the idea for this story while in my ethnographic theory class. We were analyzing the Red Riding hood myth, and I got a little angry at society, so I wrote this.

"What awfully big hands you have," Red Riding Hood says as her delicate fingers stroke the wolf's palm. The wolf's breath catches in his throat as he says "The better to hold you with, my dear."

"And what awfully big eyes you have, too," She murmurs as she leans her face close to his, her breath tickling the whiskers on his face. "The better to see you with, my dear," he whispers. She slides her hand from his palm up his arm, palms skimming over his muscular shoulders and across his chest, heading down to his stomach. Her cool touch makes him shiver with delight.

"And what a big belly you have," she says as she reaches with her free hand for her belt knife, slitting him open. Red's grandmother shakes her head and blinks, looking bewildered, as if waking from a deep sleep. Red lifts her from the belly of the beast and helps her to her chair by the fireplace.

A few hours later, the woodsman comes knocking. "Everything okay here?" he asks with a concerned look on his face.

"I've got it all under control," Says Red.