Message-ID: <5866eli$9711252321@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: DevoSpudC Subject: Revised RP: Cinderella (many thanks to Commander Jameson :) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: devospudc@geocities.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="cndrella.txt" Content-Disposition: inline; filename="cndrella.txt" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <347B3B65.49F5@geocities.com> CINDERELLA by C. Wilson The young woman gazed miserably at her reflection in the large mirror, wondering sadly why she had been born so ugly and so stupid. Cindy wasn't allowed to have a mirror of her own, so she sometimes snuck into her stepmother's bedroom to look at herself in when no one was around. She hated the sight of her reflection, because it reminded her that no man would ever love her. But, she still looked, hoping against hope that through some miracle she would someday change and become desirable, or at least not ugly. Cindy wasn't allowed to go into her stepmother's room. If she was discovered, she would surely be punished. She knew better, and she was here anyway. To her, that only served as proof of her stupiditiy. Her blue eyes moved over her wretched body, its many faults barely hidden by her loose and tattered housedress. She unbuttoned her blouse and bared her chest, gazing miserably at her breasts. Her stepsisters were always teasing and taunting her about them, saying how men liked huge, saggy melons like theirs, not round little peaches like hers. She tried to hide them, but they were too firm and even stayed up without a brassiere. Cindy closed her blouse and looked down at her middle. Her waist was thin, not a thick and fleshy cushion like her stepmother said that wealthy men preferred to rest their heads on. She also said that any worthwhile men would be repulsed by Cindy's too-wide hips and tight rear end. That wasn't all, there were a hundred other things wrong with her. Her legs were too long, her skin was too fair, and her lips were too full. Her stepmother and stepsisters reminded her of her flaws often, and Cindy was grateful for their honesty. Otherwise, she might embarass herself in front of strangers by not staying properly out of sight when her stepmother entertained company. She pulled up the hem of her dress and looked at her shameful womanhood. Even if a man could somehow ignore her other faults and take her to his bed, he would find her thin triangle of curly blond hair pathetic. And she feared that her chubby little slit was far too tight to give a man any pleasure. She had often seen her stepsisters naked as she drew their baths. Their mounds were covered in a thick forest of dark hair, and their sex lips were large and loose, not delicate and firm like hers. Sometimes they would play with themselves in front of her, rubbing their sexes in the warm water so that the lips would open and move back and forth. Then they would put three or four fingers inside themselves or each other, and move on them until they cried out in pleasure. Once, for a reason she couldn't explain, she had reached under the water and stroked her sister Roberta's furry opening, marveling at the slippery softness of it. Roberta had cursed at her for her boldness, but she had rubbed herself against Cindy's hand and called her foul names until she shuddered and moaned. It had pleased her to give her stepsister pleasure, though Roberta still treated her cruelly. But then, it was what she deserved. She was lucky that her stepmother had taken her in after her poor father died. Her stepmother and stepsisters were all she had, and though they were strict and demanding sometimes, she still loved them. "What are you doing in here?!" Cindy cringed at the shrill, angry voice. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard her stepmother enter. "You know that you are not to come in here without permission, you stupid little cunt!" "I'm sorry, stepmother," she whimpered, falling to her knees. "I didn't mean any harm. Please forgive me!" "I'll forgive you, all right," her stepmother said coldly, "after you've been punished." Of all the hurtful things that she sometimes did, Cindy hated her stepmother's punishment the most. She grabbed Cindy by the hair and yanked her to her feet, then pulled her down the steps into the dark cellar. She threw Cindy against the hard stone wall and snapped the cold pair of iron shackles around her wrists. Despite herself, Cindy shrieked as her stepmother ripped her already torn housedress off, leaving the young woman naked and shivering in the damp chill. "That's right, you little bitch! Scream!" She lit a candle and placed it on a small table by the stairs. Cindy's eyes fell to the wide leather crop that was lying there. Her stepmother lifted it up and smiled sadistically. "Remember this? Last time it turned your shameful little ass red for days! Let's see what it can do this time!" Cindy shut her eyes tightly, helplessly awaiting the first blow. That night, Cindy fell limply onto her small, hard cot. She lay on her stomach and sobbed until her tears dried up. She was in agony. Her stepmother had flogged her mercilessly until she had almost passed out. Her whole backside was raw, and hurt unbearably. A tiny part of her knew that this was wrong, that her stepmother and stepsisters were horrible and bad. But a larger part had come to believe that it was *her* that was bad, that she must have done something terribly wrong, and whatever it was, she deserved to be punished and tortured for it. She had to think of something to take her mind off the pain. Oddly enough, she began thinking about what her sisters did in the bath. Cindy always found it oddly fascinating. She would often look on curiously as they writhed and gasped on each other's probing fingers, seeming not to care that she was watching them. It was even more exciting when one would crawl over the other and kiss her between the thighs. Sometimes they even intertwined and kissed at the same time, licking and sucking at each other's sex until they both collapsed in exhaustion. Once, Cindy had tried touching her own womanhood in bed, trying to reach the same shuddering pleasure that her sisters did. She didn't, though it had felt very good to stroke herself like that. The lips of her sex had gotten all hot and swollen, and she had been ashamed at how wet she had become. She had also tried putting her fingers inside herself, but she could barely fit two inside her tight little opening. As she started moving them she had been surprised to feel her tunnel start squeezing down around her fingers, clutching them almost rythmically. That had embarrassed her somewhat, but it had also felt very nice. As Cindy lay there thinking, she was surprised to feel a heat growing between her legs. She gingerly slid a hand beneath her and through her soft little grassland of hair, gasping when her fingers inadvertently brushed something at the top of her moist slit. She had never thought to touch there, and as she explored with her fingertips, she was amazed to find a stiff little button had emerged from somewhere inside her. Touching it felt so good it almost hurt, and she stroked it gently with her slick fingers, feeling her nipples stiffening and pressing into the bed. Her head was swimming and she was having trouble breathing. She was confused and a little frightened by her body's strange reactions, but it felt far too good to stop. Suddenly, an intense tingle began spreading out from her sex, getting stronger and stronger and stronger until somewhere a dam burst, sending hot and cold waves of incredible ecstasy rolling over her body. She went rigid, the pain from her tortured backside mingling with the pleasure and adding to the already mind-numbing explosion. She had never known such an intense and delightful feeling, and she heard herself making odd moaning noises in her throat as she shivered and shook on her cot. She slowly came back to herself, feeling detached and weightless. The pain from her backside had lessened, and her body was very relaxed. For the first time in years, Cindy drifted off to sleep with a smile on her lips. * At first, Roland hadn't thought much of being appointed a messenger for the Royal Ball, but as he began his duties, he was starting to think that it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. His task was simple: he was required to go from house to house and seek out only the most attractive young women to give a Royal Invitation to. He had been surprised and also rather pleased to find how badly many fathers wanted their daughters to go. They all knew that the Prince was to choose his bride from among the hundreds of young women that would be attending, and many weren't about to miss a chance at marrying off their daughters into the royal family. He had been offered almost anything in return for handing out an invitation, and some offers had been too good to pass up. Money; jewels; livestock; he had lost count of how many bribes he had been offered. That very morning, one young redhead had even offered him her body. Even though she was rather pretty and he had been going to present her with an invitation anyway, he had pretended that he wasn't quite convinced that she was suitable. It was often amusing to see some of the things that people would do to try and convince him, but the redhead's parents had been away, so she took it upon herself to prove her worth. He had been almost ready to end the playing and give her the invitation when she suddenly hiked up her gown, revealing her young copper haired mound to his stunned eyes. She continued to strip off her clothes until she was standing completely naked in front of him, her pale breasts and skin so inviting that they almost glowed. "Don't you find me attractive?" She purred softly as she ran her hands over her thighs in a very tantalizing manner. "Indeed I do," he replied, staring as she turned around slowly and wiggled her firm ass at him in an invitation of her own. He felt his manhood stirring, and quickly decided that it wouldn't hurt to do a thorough examination of the girl, just to make sure she was suitable. After all, it was his royal duty. He quickly stepped forward and palmed the cheeks of her round and creamy ass. She pressed her buttocks against his hands, and he felt obliged to squeeze and knead them, testing their softness and resilience. He spread the globes apart and caught a glimpse of her valley, the pink lips already beginning to gleam with moisture. "You have the body of a goddess," he declared sincerely, seeing a pleased smile flash across her face. He let go of her ass and ran his hands up her slender hips and around her waist, sliding them upward until they cupped her bouncy tits, the nipples quickly hardening against his sweaty palms. She was pushing back against him, slowly grinding her ass against his straining erection. She was a feisty one, all right. He couldn't wait any longer. He unhooked his belt, letting his breeches fall to the floor. His member popped out eagerly, and he pushed her forward at the shoulders so that she placed her hands on the edge of the living room table. She was now bent over nicely, and he wasted no time in guiding his penis into the wet and swollen opening nestled between the fleshy split of her full buttocks. "Oh my God," he groaned, as his throbbing cock slid easily between her slippery labia and into her hot tunnel. He lost himself in her gloriously clinging pussy, holding on to her hips desperately as he pumped himself in and out of her with long, hard strokes. She moaned with every thrust, her ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis as he fucked her willing young body with everything he had. All too soon, he felt his balls rumble and the delicious pressure rise in his thrusting shaft. He grabbed her by the waist and slid in deep, grunting in ecstasy as his cock twitched and spewed his hot seed into her belly. He emptied himself inside her, then pulled out and collapsed in a chair, exhausted. The redhead knelt in front of him and smiled as she took his softening member into her mouth, cleaning him of her juices and his sperm. Her eyes were closed, so he took her hand and pulled a sealed invitation from his satchel and pressed it into her palm. She looked up, then an expression of pure joy crossed her face. She sank down on his half-hard cock, taking it all the way into her throat. He looked down at her sucking lips and almost fell in love, but he had to go. He pulled up his breeches. "Good day, Milady, and thank you for your most gracious hospitality," he said, bowing deeply. He left with a grin. He had less than a half dozen invitations left, and there was only a few houses in town that he had yet to visit. He knocked on the door of one, which was opened by a overweight gray-haired woman with a sour expression. "Yes?" She snapped looking him up and down suspiciously like he was a beggar. "Greetings, madam," He began. "I am Roland, messenger for the court of Prince Edward. I..." she grabbed him by the arm. "Come in, come in!" She led him inside, slamming the door after them. "I'm so glad to meet you, Sir Roland," she said, taking his hand, trying to appear coy and motherly at the same time and failing miserably at both. "My daughters have been very anxious to meet you! Here, have a seat while I run and fetch them." She plopped him down forcibly in a chair and scurried off. He sighed and looked around him, quickly noticing the utter spotlessness of the room. Someone here must take great pains to clean this place, he thought idly, and judging by the look of her, he doubted that the old witch had ever mopped a floor in her life. "Roberta! Patricia!" she was calling screechily from the hall. "Come see who's here!" Roland never knew what to expect, but the two plump, dark-haired young women who appeared in the doorway were very plain, if not ugly. It was obvious that they had expected him, for they were dressed in formal gowns and their faces were caked with many layers of gaudy cosmetics. He suppressed a shudder. "Well?" The mother asked expectantly, a dangerous gleam in her eye. "Aren't they beautiful?" Roland found himself wishing he had stayed at the friendly redhead's house and never set foot in this one, spotless as it may be. "Um, yes," he said hesitantly, "of course." He thought quickly. "But, to be eligible for an invitation, a young lady must be more than merely beautiful, she must have a certain ... quality." The mother's eyes narrowed. "And," she said menacingly, "do my lovely daughters possess that certain quality?" Roland looked at the pair, pretending to consider. "Hmm, well. It's not always an easy thing to tell, but I have an impression that your, ahh, lovely daughters do indeed have something more to them than meets the eye." He hoped so, for their sake and his. If he could find just one redeeming quality, he would be justified in giving them invitations. Otherwise, he would lose his job, and possibly his head for wasting the prince's time on such an important occasion. "Do they have any skills?" He asked. "Music? Dance? Knitting?" The woman smiled wryly. He didn't like what that might mean. "Roberta, Patricia, show Sir Roland some of your 'skills'." The pair giggled and walked up to him, and he looked on in shock as they both dropped to their knees and reached for his cock. "Wait!" he protested, inching away as far as he could in the chair. "This is not how things are done!" "Don't worry," the woman smirked, as her daughters yanked his trousers down. "They are very good, if not the best. I schooled them myself." He grimaced and closed his eyes as they went to work on his flaccid penis. To his surprise, he felt his cock begin to rise under their insistant licking and sucking. He had to admit, they *were* good. As he swelled to full size, they took turns swallowing his shaft all the way to his balls, even flicking their tongues underneath the base of his aching manhood and licking his testicles while he was buried in their throats. One even stuck her finger into his asshole and wriggled it around as she sucked him. Despite the fact that he had drained his balls less than half an hour before, he felt his member swelling, about to release another torrent. One of them, was it Patricia? He wasn't sure, but she wrapped her lips around the base of his penis and convulsed her throat muscles around his shaft, driving him almost mad with pleasure. His seed instantly erupted forth, and she swallowed every drop. They sat back and wiped their lips, smiling girlishly even though they had just taken his cock in their mouths. "Well, how did you like it?" The mother said, sitting with her fleshy arms folded over her plump bosom. "You were correct, Madam," he panted hoarsely. "They are very good." He fumbled around in his satchel and gave them each an invitation, suddenly eager to take his leave of this witch and her two homely cocksucking daughters. They accepted the rolled up papers as if they were made of gold. He stood and pulled up his trousers for the second time that morning. He was about to excuse himself and depart when there came a crash from down the hall. "Is there someone else here?" He asked. The woman's face twisted with a flash of not quite concealed fury. "No," she said cooly. "There is no one." Roland became suspiscious. "But I heard a noise," he said, peering down the hallway. He was paid to be thorough. "It was nothing," she said, too quickly. "Just a mouse. Hadn't you best be going?" He ignored her and began walking down the hall. Neither the old biddy or her daughters looked to have done a day's worth of chores in their lives. There was someone else there, and even if it was just a maid, he was required to see if she was deserving of an invitation. He heard the scrape of a dustpan and a faint, feminine sneeze from behind one door. He opened it quickly, before the old witch could try to stop him. A young woman was kneeling on the floor and cleaning the ash from the fireplace, and she looked up, startled at his sudden entrance. He stared at her, open-mouthed. Even with her blonde hair ratty and unkempt, even with her face streaked with soot, even with her loose and unflattering housedress, she was by far the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. "Who is this?" He asked demandingly as the old witch shouldered past him. "A nobody," she said, glaring down icily at the poor girl with a look that would curdle fresh milk. "My idiot stepdaughter, who had best get herself to her room if she knows what's good for her." "Yes, stepmother," the girl said meekly, rising to her feet. Her movements revealed a brief indication of full, perky breasts, a slender waist, and wide, gracefully curving hips. Roland stared in amazement. Here was a finely cut diamond in a house full of lumpy rocks. "Wait." Roland commanded, in a voice that surprised them all, especially him, with its level strength. Everyone froze and looked at him, and he reached into his satchel with a flourish and presented the blonde girl with an invitation. She stared at it, her deep blue eyes wide with disbelief. "M..me?" She stammered. "You must be mistaken. I'm far too ugly to go to the Ball. There must be someone else..." "No," Roland interrupted, flashing a look of hatred at the girl's bitch of a stepmother. He was beginning to suspect what she had done to this poor young woman. "You deserve it. Here," he lifted her hands to it, seeing that they were raw and bruised. He gently closed her fingers around it. "You aren't ugly. Don't let anyone ever tell you that." She looked at him in astonishment. He turned to the stepmother. "Good day, Madam," he said in an icy tone, then wheeled and left, yearning to be outside and away from that evil bitch. He felt sorry for the girl, but there was little else he could do. He sighed and went on to the next house. The dark-skinned aristocratic woman who answered the door was quite lovely, though she still paled in comparision to the poor peasant girl. She was wearing a silk robe, and she let it slip as he introduced himself, flashing a large-nippled breast at him as she stood innocently in the doorway. It was going to be a long day. * Cindy had gotten another severe beating for dropping the cinder bucket and making the noise, even though it had been an accident. "You could've spoiled everything!" her stepmother had screamed after the messenger had left. What had hurt even more than the whipping was when her stepmother had torn up the invitation that he had given her. She cried for a while, but she realized it was foolish to think that someone like her could go to the Royal Ball anyway. The nice messenger had only been trying to be kind when he said that she wasn't ugly. Her sisters were so happy about going to the ball that they almost forgot that she was their servant. "Its so exciting!" they told her in the bath the following night. "We're going to meet the Prince, and the King and Queen and all the Dukes and Lords!" They giggled and talked and never once spoke harshly to her or put her in her place. They even asked her what dresses they should wear and how much makeup they should use. Her sisters had never asked Cindy for her opinion on anything before, and she almost stuttered when she blurted out that she thought that they should dress nicely but not extravagantly, and maybe not wear as much makeup as usual and just let their natural beauty show through. They stared at her strangely for a moment, and she lowered her head, thinking that she had been too bold. Then they asked her to join them in the bath, something that they had never done before. She was flattered. She undressed hesitantly, feeling embarrased as they looked at her ugly body. They made room for her in the large tub, and she sat down in the warm water with her arms crossed over her breasts. Her sisters laughed at her modesty. They splashed her with water and told her to relax. She slowly uncovered herself, blushing as she noticed them staring at her chest. "Lie back," Roberta instructed. "We will wash you for a change." She did so, surprised to feel Patricia's hands on her shoulders, guiding her back to lie against her sister's wet body. She was lying with her head on Patricia's shoulder, feeling her sister's soft bosom on her back as she faced toward Roberta. Roberta took a sponge and squeezed it over Cindy's breasts, covering them with warm, soapy water. Then she slowy rubbed the sponge over Cindy's shoulders and neck. It felt wonderful. Cindy had never had anyone bathe her, except maybe when she was very young, and she found herself loving the unaccustomed attention. Patricia's hands began to move in slow circles over her lower back with a gentleness that Cindy had never felt before. The touch of the wet hands soothed her tender skin, still sore from yesterday's beating. Roberta slid the sponge under the curve of one of Cindy's breasts, sending a little warm shiver down her spine. Cindy closed her eyes luxuriously, savoring every little sensation. Her sisters had never been this nice to her before. Her eyes flew open in surprise as she felt Roberta caressing her breasts, the sponge forgotten. Roberta kneaded Cindy's firm tits like pieces of dough, and they alway popped back to their original shape. Roberta gently tweaked the nipples, sending a delicious ache through her breasts. Patricia's hands rubbed over Cindy's hips and to the tops of her thighs, dipping occasionally to stroke the tender skin near her womanhood. Cindy found herself becoming very excited. Roberta suddenly leaned forward, and Cindy gasped as her sister sucked one of her nipples into her mouth. At almost the same time, Patricia slipped her hand between Cindy's legs and caressed her sex, sliding her fingers up and down slowly over the length of the excited slit. Cindy moaned. It felt so different, so good to be touched by someone else. She was embarrased to feel her little opening start nipping at her sister's fingers. "Feel this," Patricia whispered excitedly. Roberta slid her hand where Patricia's had been a moment before, then Cindy's nipple popped out of her mouth as she gasped in astonishment. Roberta slid a finger inside, and Cindy blushed as she felt her tunnel contracting around it. Patricia reached around and squeezed Cindy's tits as Roberta started pushing her finger in and out almost roughly, Cindy's muscles trying to catch it as it slipped between them. Cindy was amazed as Roberta leaned forward and kissed her wetly on the mouth. She hadn't been kissed since she was a little girl, and Cindy found herself kissing her sister urgently, even trying to catch Roberta's tongue with hers. Roberta slipped a second finger between the lips of Cindy's sex, and it wasn't long before Cindy felt the super-nice tingles start. After only a few moments she yelped and climaxed wildly on her sister's finger. "I think you're clean enough now," Roberta said, standing up, her dark and tangled bush momentarily level with Cindy's eyes. She stepped out, and Cindy and Patricia followed, rubbing themselves dry in front of the warm fire. Once mostly dry, Roberta sat down on the thick and soft rug in front of the fireplace. She slowly spread her legs apart, looking up at Cindy expectantly. Cindy instantly guessed what was being asked of her, and she dropped to the floor between Roberta's thighs without hesitation. Her stepsister's large sex was open and wet from the bath, the thick hair glistening with little droplets of water. Cindy closed her eyes and extended her tongue, pushing it against Roberta's warm slit. She licked timidly at first, then more boldly as she became accustomed to the strong, musky taste. Roberta moaned as Cindly licked up and down between her thick and fleshy lips, sometimes kissing and sucking at her stepsister's drooling womanhood. She glanced up to see Patrica sitting on the rug a few feet away, watching them intently as she rubbed herself. Thinking of her little pleasure button, Cindy spread Roberta's lips apart gently to see if she also had one. She did. Cindy looked at the pearly white bump curiously for a moment before beginning to lick at it softly. Roberta cried out and grabbed Cindy roughly by the hair, holding her face tightly against her swampy crotch. Cindy could only lick and slurp as Roberta arched her back and orgasmed violently on Cindy's face, her fleshy thighs trembling against her ears. Once she caught her breath, Cindy crawled between her other sister's legs, sliding her tongue around inside Patricia's steamy hole until she too convulsed with pleasure. Afterward, her sisters sandwiched her between them on the rug and fondled her affectionately, making Cindy feel more appreciated than she ever had in her life. She was lucky to have such loving sisters, she thought dreamily, and she knew that her stepmother only seemed cruel because she was doing what was best for her. * Bruce wiped his brow on his sleeve and looked up and down the street. He hated these hot and butch looking gypsy clothes, but they were important to his act, so he had to wear them. Besides, he thought, grinning, it wouldn't be much longer before he could ditch them and move on, his pockets full of gold. This Royal Ball was the best thing that had ever happened, all these rich bitches running off in such a hurry to get into the Prince's pants that they sometimes even left their doors unlocked. He lifted up his cart and started walking again, whistling a merry, almost gay tune. As far as anybody knew, he was a travelling gypsy selling worthless trinkets. But, underneath the little charms and baubles was almost a full cartload of jewelry, silver, expensive silk clothes, and more than a few sacks of gold coins. He might be nothing more than a thief, he admitted, but he was a damn good one. Now with the Ball only a hour away, Bruce was looking for his next target. And there it is, he thought, spying a group of three richly dressed women emerging from a house. The older woman yelled at the coach driver who was waiting nearby, and the driver jumped into the coach. The women piled in, and the coach began to rattle off down the street. Bruce waited until it was out of sight, then walked boldy up to the front of the house. He set the cart down on the porch and went to the door. He tried the handle, and grinned as the door opened. Thank God for dumb rich tarts, he thought, shaking his head. He looked around, then wheeled his little cart around back out of sight. He went inside, closing the door behind him. He sauntered through the place casually, looking for valuables and maybe a snack. He picked up a silver candleholder, brightly polished and without a speck of dust on it. "Well," he muttered to himself, "at least these rich fish take care of their stuff." He turned around the corner into the kitchen, and almost collided with a blonde girl carrying an armload of wood. She squealed in fright and dropped her burden, scattering wood all over the floor. Bruce screamed almost as loudly and stumbled backward, nearly falling over a chair. "Who are you?!" She asked in a wavering voice, looking at him with frightened blue eyes. "Damn, girl!" Bruce wheezed, breaking into a warm smile. "You nearly scared me out of my skin!" She looked at him distrustfully. "What are you doing in my stepmother's house?" He thought quickly, taking in the girl's pretty features and ragged clothes. He suddenly remembered an old story he'd heard when he was young. "Why," he said with a charming smile, "I'm your Fairy Godmother, of course!" She frowned suspiciously. "How can you be my Fairy Godmother? You're a man!" "Don't let that fool you," he said, then whispered in a conspiratory tone, "I'm in disguise." The girl's face was still doubtful. "Why were you sneaking around, then?" "Because, I didn't want your wicked stepfather to see me." "Stepmother." She corrected. "Right, stepmother." He shrugged. "So, now that I'm here, what is your greatest wish?" She looked at him appraisingly, seeming to waver for a moment. Then she giggled. "No, it's silly!" "Tell me," he said in a comforting tone. "I'm your Fairy Godmother, you can trust me." Then a thought occured to him. "How come a pretty young thing like you isn't at the Ball?" "That's a strange question." She said. "I'm too ugly to go, of course." He thought it was a joke for a moment, until he saw that her face was totally serious. "You must be kidding!" He said, clapping his hand to his mouth in disbelief. "You're beautiful! You simply *have* to go." Her face was downcast. "Thank you for being kind, but I know I'm not beautiful." "Why do you say that?" "My stepmother and stepsisters have always told me so. I'm lucky that they let me stay and clean and cook for them. I don't know what I'd do without them." Bruce felt tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh, you poor dear!" He felt sorry for her, and mad at the same time. Her bitch relatives wanted her as a slave, so they had kept telling her how ugly she was until she believed it. He began to get an idea. "Would you want to go to the Ball, if you could?" He asked, framing it as a "merely curious" type of question. "Well, yes," she said hesitantly. "Of course. I'd love to see the Prince and the jesters and the pretty castle ... but it's silly. Besides, I don't even have an invitation." He suppressed a giggle. If she looked this beautiful dirty and without makeup, nobody would refuse to let her in if she showed up nice. He looked her in the eye. "What if I told you I can make it so you could go?" She looked at him, then frowned. "How could you do that?" "I told you! I'm your Fairy Godmother! I could make you the most beautiful girl at the ball." That was probably true enough. "All I need is for you to trust me, or the fairy magic won't work." She looked at him doubtfully, but there was a trace of hope in her voice. "You're not really my Fairy Godmother, are you?" He looked at her is if insulted. "Of course I am! Will you trust me?" She wavered for a moment, but only a moment. "Yes, I will trust you." A few minutes later he was rummaging around through the bedrooms, stocking up on things he would need. Soap. Perfume. Bath oil. Combs. Brushes. He tossed all of them into a sack and took them into the bathroom, where the girl stood sheepishly with a towel draped around her. "All right now," he told her. "Just hop in the bath and I'll have you fixed up in no time." She looked at him and blushed self-consciously. "Go on, girl," he said, slapping her lightly on the rump. She hesitantly let the towel fall, revealing her shapely body. She quickly stepped into the tub. Bruce knelt beside her and spread the bath oil around in the water, then grabbed a cloth and soap. Normally, something like this would make him queasy, but there was something about this girl's innocent beauty that he found strangely appealing She giggled as he began to wash her smooth arms and shoulders. "That tickles!" After a few moments, she relaxed and half closed her eyes, obviously enjoying the attention. He found himself admiring her gorgeous breasts, and she didn't protest as he briefly palmed a firm breast in his hand and squeezed it gently. Realizing what he was doing, he yanked his hand away. What was wrong with him? He shook his head and continued down to wash her stomach and hips. It was getting harder for him to concentrate. She opened her eyes as he gently moved her legs apart to wash her thighs, but he smiled reassuringly and she relaxed again. He rubbed the cloth lightly up and down her inner thigh, his hand "accidentally" brushing her soft blonde pubes. He wondered if she would object to him washing her there, and after he was finished with her long graceful legs, he decided to find out. He watched her face as he began bathing her lower stomach, then gradually moved lower until he was gently soaping up the little patch of curly hair on her mound. She frowned slightly, but made no move to stop him as he slipped the cloth between her thighs, lightly brushing it over her most sensitive place. After only a few seconds, he removed it and started on her back. He began noticing faint red streaks on her skin. "What are these marks from?" He asked. They looked like welts. "Sometimes, when I do something stupid," she said slowly "my stepmother has to punish me." Bruce's face twisted angrily. What a vicious bitch, he thought. I hope I get a chance to 'punish' her someday, he thought with an wicked grin. He finished washing her back. At least the marks were almost gone and difficult to see. He dabbed a little soap on the cloth and told her to keep her eyes shut as he washed her face. He couldn't resist running his thumb over her smooth and full lower lip. As he suspected, once clean, her face was absolutely flawless. He thoroughly washed her long and neglected blonde hair, then had her stand up as he patted her dry. Kneeling to dry her legs, his eyes became riveted between her supple thighs. That has to be the poutiest, tightest-looking pussy on earth, he thought distractedly. Almost without realizing it, he reached up and touched it with two of his fingers. She sucked in her breath and looked down at him in surprise. He looked up and gave her another reassuring smile, which she returned. He simply couldn't resist touching her pretty pussy, at least a little. He returned his eyes to it, his mouth beginning to water. He rubbed the cute little lips slowly, feeling a dampness spreading over them from within her. He started feeling something strange, like her lips were quivering as his finger moved over them. He brought the finger to his lips, tasting the sweet flavor of her wetness as he sucked on it to moisten it even further. He placed the finger back on her warm slit, and pushed it very slowly and very gently inside her. She gasped, and he glanced at her face to see that her eyes were closed and she was breathing quickly. He felt her pussy move around his finger and he looked back to see her delicate lips contract. A second later, it squeezed again, and again and again. His mind was reeling. This beautiful girl was built for sex! For the first time in his queer life, Bruce ached to stuff his throbbing cock between her set of pouty, sucking cuntlips. But he restrained himself, feeling like it would almost be sacreligous. Reluctantly taking his hand away, he cleared his throat and told her to sit down so that he could fix her hair. She obliged him, and he went about combing and brushing her long hair, which was looking better already. Once finished, he ran out and fetched one of the nicer stolen gowns from his cart, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw it. It was dark blue, lacy and sequoned, and matched the color of her eyes perfectly. She had put on frilly undergarments while he was gone, and he told her to take them off. The brassiere she didn't need in the first place, and the panties would likely get in the way if the Royal Ball turned out anything like he expected it would. She squirmed into the dress, and he was pleased to see that it fit her like a glove. He bent over her with a few jars of makeup, applying very little, but just enough to highlight her already gorgeous features. After spending a few more minutes on her hair, he turned and glanced at the clock. The Ball was already starting! He had to hurry. He looked her over. She was breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that a blind man could probably sense it if she walked nearby. He led her to the mirror in the master bedroom. He made her close her eyes until she was positioned perfectly in front of it. Then, he told her to look, and she opened her eyes. Her face lit up and she twirled around, looking at her flowing golden hair and her beautiful sparkling gown. But then, a sad look appeared in her eyes, and she turned to him. "What's wrong?" He asked. "I look nice," she began, "and the gown is wonderful, and my hair has never looked so good, but I'm still ugly." He frowned and kissed her forehead. "You have always been beautiful," he said, looking into her eyes. "Trust me. Would I lie to you?" She smiled, biting her lip and shaking her head. "Good, because I'm your Fairy Godmother, and I wouldn't ever tell you anything but the truth. Forget what anyone ever said about you being ugly. Go to the ball, and you'll see. I promise." She hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered tearfully. "No crying and spoiling your makeup, now," he chided softly. He was starting to believe that he might be her Fairy Godmother after all. His eyes fell to the ground uncomfortably as she hugged him, and roved over her dainty little feet. They were bare. "Oh no," he groaned. "I forgot about shoes! Wait here!" He ran back out to his cart and rummaged through it, searching frantically. He didn't remember if he had snagged any footwear, and his spirits sank as he neared the bottom of the cart. Nothing. Then, he heard the sound of glass ringing, and he lifted up a silk shirt to see a pair of sparkling glass slippers. He gasped in surprise. Surely he would've remembered these, but there was no time to wonder about it now. He grabbed them and ran back inside. The girl also gasped with wonder as he showed her the slippers. He slipped them on her feet, and they fit as if made for her. She took a few hesitant steps in them, the heels ringing like little bells as they touched the floor. She laughed joyfully, a sound that warmed Bruce's heart. "Come on," he said, remembering how late it was. He escorted her out of the door and into the street, hoping that they could flag down a coach, but there was no sign of one. They were likely all busy taking people to the Ball. Just when they had almost given up hope, a coach rounded the corner. Bruce waved and called to it, and it came to a shuddering halt. The coach driver leaned over to look at them, and his eyes went wide at the sight of the girl in her beautiful dress. "Please sir," she said demurely, "I need a ride to the Ball. Could you help me?" "Well, uh, I'm supposed to pick up a rich bloke and his wife," he scratched his chin, his eyes locked on the girl, whose eyes fell sadly. "But, all right. I'll give you a ride, Miss." She perked up and smiled charmingly. "Oh, thank you!" She stepped lightly into the coach, and Bruce followed, drawing a sour look from the driver, but then they were off. * Prince Edward sat morosely on his throne in the castle's grand ballroom, resting his quietly handsome face on his slender hands as he watched the arrivals walk in. The musicians were playing a lively tune, and many nobles and merchants were dancing with the beautiful women. "Why so glum, my son?" The King asked cheerfully, his dark eyes following a well-built servant as she carried a tray of refreshments down the hall. "The Royal Ball is starting! This hall is bustling with the most beautiful young women in the kingdom, all lusting for a chance to be your bride!" The young prince sighed. "There is more to love than beauty, father. I care not whether my future bride is pretty. I desire a woman who is charming and humble. One who will love me and cherish me as I would cherish her, not one who will jump on my lap just for a chance at grabbing the royal jewels." The King laughed. "It is strange for one so young as you to be a romantic! But don't fear, there is bound to be at least one girl in the lot who will catch your fancy." He nudged the prince conspiratorally. "Besides, its not so bad having a crowd of beautiful women thronging around you, willing to do anything to attract your attention. They don't call it the Royal Ball for nothing!" He laughed again and clapped his son on the back before moving off, his eyes still following the serving girl's shapely backside. Edward sighed. His father didn't understand him. The King was always running around the castle chasing skirts and everyone knew it, especially the Queen. His mother probably understood him best of all, the prince thought. She knew that he wasn't like his father. While the prince didn't exactly hate the idea of the Ball, he doubted that he would find his dream girl among the greedy merchant's daughters and snobbish noble girls who would be in attendance. Oh well, he thought, looking at a group of women who were standing nearby and fluttering their lashes at him. He might as well make the most of it. The ball was now in full swing, but the Prince was in his chambers, waiting for the auditions to begin. The auditions were his father's idea, of course. Every young woman at the ball would be taken in one at a time before the Prince, and he could look them over, interview them, ask them to strip naked, anything he desired in order to find a girl he wanted as his bride. He found the idea hopelessly unromantic. Of course, he was looking forward to having the most attractive girls in the land paraded before him, but there were more than two hundred of them in attendance! How could he hope to find the bride of his dreams among so many? As soon as the first girl entered, he knew he was in trouble. She was dark haired and attractive, with full breasts and a large, well- rounded ass. He began asking her about herself, but he became a bit uncomfortable as he noticed her eyes roving hungrily over his crotch. Without warning, she jumped from her seat and fell in front of him, yanking down his trousers and taking his princely cock into her mouth. She began sucking on it eagerly, making the surprised organ swell to full size in her mouth. The prince let her keep going for a minute, then gently pushed her back and showed her out. He sat back in his chair and pulled up his breeches. She had been very good at it, but he wanted much more in a bride than just someone that would suck his cock. The next girl jumped on him as soon as she came in, kissing him passionately and humping her crotch against his semi-hard penis. He had to call for the guards to come in and pry her off him. He sighed as they dragged her out, screaming "I love you!" at the top of her voice. A man like his father would love this situation, but the Prince only found it depressing. The auditions continued in a similar fashion for some time, until about fifty or so young women had come and gone. He had to replace his trousers twice and his shirt once after they had been ripped off by overzealous women. Personally, he considered himself rather plain looking, but none of the girls seemed to care. They worked themselves into a frenzy regardless. After all, he was the Prince. He called wearily for the next girl. She was a statuesque redhead who merely sat down in front of him, looking up at him with her sparkling green eyes. Her name was Tamara. He asked her many questions, which she answered coyly and intelligently. She looked very promising. And when she slowly moved forward and pecked him softly on the lips, he felt no desire to object. She kissed him with slowly increasing passion, her hands roving gently over his body. She could be the one, he thought to himself as her hands slipped under his shirt and caressed his hairless chest. She deftly unbuttoned his shirt, then lowered her head to flick her warm tongue across his shoulder, stopping only to swirl it over his nipples. The prince felt his member stiffening as she rubbed his thighs, kissing her way down his stomach. When she reached his tented trousers she gently pulled them down, his throbbing manhood popping out at her face like a flick-knife. She looked at it admiringly for a moment, then flicked her long tongue teasingly under the head. He was enthralled by her seduction, and could only watch and moan as she slowly swallowed his penis, drawing him into her throat with a gentle prowess that made his head spin. She nursed on his member as it jerked with pleasure inside her hot, wet mouth. After only a few moments she pulled away, squirming slowly out of her dress with amazing fluidity and grace. Once naked, she draped her long, milky-white legs over the arms of his chair and lowered herself down on him. He felt the moist heat of her pussy on his shaft and looked down, seeing her reach under and lift his penis up to point at the pink cleft between her thighs. She slowly dropped down on it, gasping as the head slid inside her. The Prince groaned. She was very wet, and so hot! He groaned as she bottomed out with his entire length inside her. She ground her pelvis against his, working even more of his cock into her pulsing vagina. He was intensely aware of her red pubic hair rubbing his own patch of brown, and he watched her creamy tits heave in his face as she began to bounce up and down on his lap. Her pussy lips clung wetly to his cock as she rose up, then they slid quickly back down to nestle around the base of his shaft. He even felt their dampness on his balls, she was taking him so deep. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth as she kissed him urgently, her red tresses falling wildly around her face. He returned her kiss passionately, thoroughly consumed by the hottest fuck he had experienced in his life. He became aware that she was nearing her climax, and he slid his thumb between her slick labia and gently stroked her clitoris. She came almost immediately, her eyes opening wide and a long, breathy moan escaping her lips. He felt her vagina convulse around his penis, and he sucked one of her pretty pink nipples into his mouth as she rode out her orgasm on his lap. When it was over, she fell limp on top of him, whimpering softly. He was used to this reaction, and he kissed her neck and shoulders tenderly. "Oh God," she moaned weakly, "oh God. Twice. You made me come twice." He waited until she had the strength to start riding him again, but then stopped her and lifted her off him reluctantly, his cock protesting as it slipped out of her warm body. "Wait," she also protested, latching her arms around his waist. "I want your come. I want you to come in me," she murmured pleadingly. "Later," he told her, kissing her on the forehead. She might be the one, alright. "You promise," she asked, as he held up her dress for her. "Yes." He answered, meaning it. She reluctantly put her dress back on, then grabbed him and kissed him passionately. He gently pulled away, then dropped to his knees and kissed her hand. She blushed, and he escorted her to the door. When she was gone, he fell back on his chair, his penis still coated with her creamy juices. He didn't know how he was going to survive another hundred and fifty girls. He just didn't. * The King chuckled to himself as he closed the peephole into the Prince's chamber. He had a raging erection from watching that red-haired sex poodle ride his son. She had been something, all right! Even his son seemed to realize that. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all. In his place, the King would be screwing everything that walked through the door! The King returned to the Ballroom, which seemed emptier than before. It wasn't because people were leaving, they were just going off somewhere a little more private for a Ball of their own. He breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed that the Queen was nowhere to be seen. "Probably off in the closet with some pageboy", he muttered, not without a touch of jealously. The Queen was still a very sexy woman for her age, and just because he liked to play around didn't mean that he wasn't still fired up by the thought of her with someone else. "Can I get you anything to drink, Milord?" A coquettish, sligtly accented voice asked. To the King's delight, he saw that it was the new French serving girl. "Why yes, my dear," he said, placing his hands on her jutting breasts and squeezing them softy, "your sweet nectar will do." She gasped at his bold touch, her face turning an exquisite pink color. "Milord!" She said indignantly, pulling back just out of reach. "Milord forgets himself." She turned and walked off toward the kitchen, her shapely buttocks jiggling slightly as she walked. The King grinned, feeling his pulse racing. He so loved a challenge. It made the hunt much more worthwhile. * Cindy was becoming flustered by all the attention she was getting. She had only arrived at the Ball a few minutes before, but she was surprised at the strange looks she was getting from the men and even some of the women. They weren't the harsh stares she had grown accustomed to from her stepmother and stepsisters. They were looks she had never seen before, looks of sincere admiration, lust, even awe, and frankly she was getting a little lightheaded at all the attention. Bruce, her Fairy Godmother, had left her at the door, telling her mysteriously that she had to leave by midnight, before the Fairy Magic wore off. Then he wandered away somewhere, leaving her to fend for herself. Not that it was difficult, with all the men stumbling over themselves to ask if there was anything she needed. One of the servants, a good looking French girl, had even winked at her with an expression that reminded Cindy of the looks her sisters got before they played with each other. Now, with more than a dozen men crowding around, she was feeling rather faint. She excused herself and ran to the bathroom, her glass slippers ringing on the stone floor like music. She shut and locked the door behind her. She felt hot and confused. She had known that the funny little man really wasn't her Fairy Godmother, but she had gone along because it was silly, and maybe because part of her wanted to believe that the things he said about her being pretty were true. And they were, she was starting to realize. All those handsome men had looked at her and ignored all the other girls. She had to be beautiful, but why would her stepmother and stepsisters have lied to her? "Because," a little voice said in the back of her head, "they were using you." "No," she whispered, tears rising in her eyes. "That's not true." But she knew it was. Deep down, she always had. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, not wanting to spoil Bruce's hard work. Maybe he was her Fairy Godmother after all. It really didn't matter. What mattered was that she was here, at the Ball, something which she had only dreamed of doing. As she gathered herself and left the bathroom, she came face to face with Roberta, who stared at her like she was seeing a ghost. "Cindy?" she asked incredulously. "Is that you?" She hung her head dejectedly, automatically becoming subserviant. "Yes, Roberta." She looked up suddenly. "Oh, please don't tell mother I'm here! She'd kill me!" Roberta was still staring. "What happened to you? You look so... different." Cindy noticed distractedly that Roberta had taken her advice and had not put on too much makeup. Just then, a horn sounded. "Last call for Auditions with the Prince!" A squire called. Roberta turned. "I'd... we'd better go," she said, looking back to Cindy. "Unless you want to miss your chance at meeting the Prince!" She smiled and walked off quickly toward where the squire was motioning girls through a curtain. Cindy hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. Her head was reeling. Her? Meet the Prince? It didn't seem possible. But as she fell into line and noticed all the envious stares she was getting from the other young women, it started to seem more and more real. * Bruce wandered through the castle, and almost everywhere he looked people were screwing their brains out. It wasn't quite an orgy yet, that would start at midnight, another reason why he had told Cindy to leave before then. He didn't want an innocent girl like her to get mixed up in all this drunken debauchery, not if he could help it. He was surprised that he was feeling so protective of her. Well, after all, she was special. Very special. He paused out on a balcony, then his ears perked as he heard a woman's shrill laughter. Something about the voice was vaguely familiar. He looked around for the voice's owner and immediately recognized the gray-haired woman he had seen yelling at the coach driver. Cindy's stepmother. She was babbling to a very drunk and very fat man who looked like he was about to fall off the balcony. She held a wine glass in one hand and looked like she was rather swished herself. He grinned, seeing a chance for a little revenge. He slinked up to her and caught her attention. "What do you want?" She asked suspisciously, her eyes having difficulty focusing on him. "I saw you from over there, and I just had to come over and meet you," he said, in his most flattering voice. "Your beauty is just so entrancing, I couldn't resist." She laughed shrilly again. "So," she said drunkenly, "you wanna talk, or you wanna fuck?" He bit down his revulsion, forcing a smile. He took her by the hand and dragged her to an empty alcove. The old bitch started to take her dress off, but Bruce told her not to bother and pushed her down to her hands and knees, then steeled himself and flipped her dress up over her fleshy ass. She wasn't wearing knickers, and the sight of her bare ass in the lamplight almost made him retch. He forced himself to look at her anus. Sure enough, her motherly asshole was tiny and tightly puckered. Virginal. Bruce kneeled behind her, then closed his eyes and dropped his trousers. The first thing that came to mind was Cindy's pouty and tight little pussy sucking at his finger like a mouth. He began to get hard, and jerked himself into he was fully erect. "Well?" the old bitch was saying, wiggling her ass obscenely at him. "Is it in yet?" Oh, you'll know when its in alright, you heartless bitch, Bruce thought to himself. He aimed himself at her tiny rosebud of an anus, and then thrust forward, grabbing her fat hips so that she couldn't escape as his dry cock forced its way past her too-tight sphincter. She screamed with agony, and it was the best sound he'd heard her make yet. She tried to squirm away, but he held on tightly, driving even more of his penis roughly into her. He began thrusting in and out of her dry ass mercilessly, the friction rubbing his shaft raw. This is for Cindy, you bitch, he thought, grinning as she cried and moaned with pain. He gave it to her until he couldn't stand it anymore, then pulled out. She fell to the floor, sobbing and cursing, and he kneeled down in front of her, rubbing his raw cock as he looked down at her. When he felt close, he leaned down. "This is for being such a evil fuck of a mother," he said, then shot his sperm all over her face. She cursed and spat at him, but she was too drunk and too shocked to do anything but lie there and take it. When he was done, her face was covered with white gobby strings. Bruce smiled at a job well done, hiked up his pants, and left. * The Prince's balls ached miserably, but it was almost over. No one else had yet equalled the redhead's quiet and sincere enthusiasm, though many had tried. His cock had been stroked, jerked, licked, sucked, bitten, swallowed, fucked, stuck into cleavage, even pressed between feet. And through all that, he hadn't allowed himself to come. There was only one girl who would make him do that, and he suspected that it was the one who had already asked for it so pleadingly. The last two girls had been unusually plump and somewhat unattractive, but he talked to them anyway, not knowing what shape or appearance his future bride might take. But, like so many others, they had dived too quickly for his penis, and he'd had them ushered out. "How many are left?" He wearily asked the doorman. "Only one, your Highness." Came the reply. At last! "Send her in." He commanded, his thoughts already turning back to the feisty redhead. He saw a girlish figure hesitate at the doorway, then come in. He looked up, and all thoughts of other women were destroyed. She was beautiful beyond words, a picture of complete loveliness from the top of her blond head to the tips of her glass-covered toes. Her slender body was perfectly proportioned, from her full, pert breasts to her gracefully wide hips and long, supple legs. Her face looked to have been sculpted by by the world's greatest artist; her little perfect nose; her round, bright blue eyes; her small, full-lipped mouth; her flawless skin; her arching eyebrows; her delicate chin. Speechless, he motioned her to sit. She did so nervously, her cheeks turning red as she stared down, refusing to look up at his eyes. He found this oddly charming that a beauty such as she was ashamed of herself in front of him. "What is your name," he asked, finding words at last. "Cinderella, Milord." She replied meekly. "But everyone calls me Cindy." She smiled and started to look up, but then quickly looked back down again, her blue eyes flitting shyly along the floor. He was in love. It was strange, all he knew about her was her name, but there was something about her, she was so gorgeous and yet so humble that she had already captured his heart. * The King followed the serving girl into the kitchen, pleased to see that it was almost deserted. The girl bent at the knees to unload her tray, and the King eyed her ass lecherously, thinking of something that *he'd* like to unload. The girl seemed unaware of him as he crept up from behind and gripped one of her soft, firm buttocks in each hand. The Frenchie squealed in surprise and dropped her tray, her ass quivering superbly against his palms. He pushed her up against the table, squeezing her rump firmly. "Mon Dieu!" she squeaked. "Milord, you should not be doing this! The Queen..." "The Queen's off frolicking with the musicians, no doubt!" He chuckled. "Besides, your ass is so full, so ripe, like a pair of juicy melons." She was beginning to pant. "Milord mustn't say such things," she stammered, her palms pressed flat against the table. "Why?" He said in her ear. She smelled faintly of perfume. "Does it get you hot between the legs? Do my words make your juices flow like wine?" He reached around her chest and began fondling her breasts. They were more than a handful. He pushed his hips forward to keep her pressed against the table, his erection nestling between the soft cheeks of her ass. "Oh!" She exclaimed as he tweaked her nipples through her blouse. The King felt them stiffen to hard nubs between his fingers. "So, you like that, do you?" He asked. She nodded breathlessly. "Then here, let me do something that you'll love." He stepped back, spun her around, and lifted her up to sit on the table. Her face was red and she was panting heavily, her tits threatening to burst out from her tight blouse with every breath. She gasped as he ripped her blouse open, sending buttons flying across the floor. He bent and closed his mouth around a large brown nipple, sucking at it like an infant. The girl sighed and cooed, the King's hands caressing her hips and thighs. "Oooh, Milord!" she breathed. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until it was also stiff. "Now," he said, kneeling between her legs, "for the main course!" He spread her legs apart and pushed up her dress, revealing her garters and a pair of lacy panties that made the King's mouth water. He nuzzled at her crotch, smelling her excitement and tasting her wetness even through the cloth. He mouthed her steamy slit through her panties for a few moments, causing her to squirm and whimper on the table. Desiring to taste flesh, not cloth, the King reached under her dress and unhooked her garters just enough to get her panties down and off. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, breathing in the serving-girl's musky scent. He stuffed them into his vest pocket as a momento, then stuck his face into her crotch and began kissing her bare and dripping pussy. This was one meal that he would never get tired of, he thought to himself as he licked and sucked at the sexy French girl's twat, her moans and sighs of pleasure sounding like sweet music to his ears. He sucked her until she was hanging on the verge of orgasm, then stood up with his moist face level with hers. Her hands went frantically to her pussy, but he grabbed them and held them away. She writhed on the tabletop, humping her ass on the smooth wood. "Please," she whimpered. "Milord, please..." "Please what?" He said, looking into her eyes. "Please... make me come, oh please Milord, I'm so close..." He unbuttoned his trousers and took out his throbbing penis. "With this?" He asked. She didn't hesitate. "Anything, Milord! Yes! Fuck me! Please!" He grinned, then pulled her to the edge of the table and slipped his cock into her overheated pussy. She was tight, and so, so wet. The King grunted and began pumping, the girl squealing and squeaking as he drove his dick in and out of her needy hole. In seconds, she fell back on her elbows and shook as she reached her climax, groaning and trembling as if she were having a seizure. She mumbled something incoherently in French as the King continued to fuck her with long, powerful thrusts. Watching this sex kitten come brought the King to the verge of his own climax, and he groaned as he felt the first spurt blast hotly from the end of his penis and into her tight depths. She moaned, seeming to feel it as well as he pumped his load into her body, then collapsed panting on top of her. Her breasts were like soft pillows, and he rested his head on them as he began to soften in her pussy. "Did Milord like his meal?" she asked in a breathy voice. "Oh, yes, very much." He said, grinning. "You can serve it to me whenever you wish." "I may wish to quite often, Milord," she said, tousling his hair. * Cindy felt like she was going to faint as the Prince asked her to sit down. She had expected him to send her away at once, and she had been positively giddy when he asked her name. Now, he was looking at her silently, she could feel his eyes on her even though she was looking down. She was feeling very warm, almost like she had when she had touched herself. The Prince leaned forward. "Look at me, Cindy." She swallowed hard. She slowly looked up, her eyes traveling from his fine leather boots to his silk trousers, past his slender waist, over his silk shirt, and up to his face. God, she thought, he was beautiful! His eyes were brown and gentle, his face was smooth and intense. Suddenly she wanted to touch him, to hold him in her arms and never let go of him, because if she lost him she would want to die. Her eyes locked with his, and her heart leaped into her throat as she saw her own feelings reflected there. Was it possible? Could he be feeling the same way? She felt her strength draining away. Suddenly she was lying on the floor with the beautiful Prince leaning over her, concern showing in his soft brown eyes. "Are you all right?" He was asking. She smiled up at him dreamily, for this must be a dream. She reached up and traced his lips with her fingers. "I love you," she whispered, tears welling as she thought that the dream might end. "I love you." He looked down at her for a moment, then kissed her fingers. He put his strong arms around her and lifted her up, carrying her to a plush sofa at the far end of the room. He gently let her down, but she refused to let go, hugging her head to his chest like a little girl. She felt his lips on her forehead, and she looked up, following his mouth with her eyes as he bend to kiss her on the lips. It was electric, and Cindy felt herself gasping even though she wasn't out of breath. Her hands fluttered in the air for moment, then settled around his neck as she kissed his gentle mouth like it was her only purpose in life. If she had felt warm before, now she was burning up. Her thighs felt damp, and she felt hot fluttery sensations in her lower belly. Her sex was already beginning to open and close, and she ached for him to touch her down there, longed for his hands to caress her breasts. She yearned to reach between his legs and caress the thing that she had only heard about, the counterpart to her womanhood. The organ that would push between her legs and into her tiny opening, maybe tearing her open, but she didn't care about that. The feelings she was having now were worth any pain, any pain her stepmother could dish out, any pain in the world. "Make love to me," she whispered, her mouth less that an inch from his. "Send me away, do whatever you wish, but please make love to me!" The Prince took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her down on the large sofa. He moved over her, holding himself above her on his arms. He bent down and kissed her passionately again, and she matched his passion with her own. She felt his hands slowly caressing her shoulders and neck, and she reached up to mirror his actions. "I love you, and I will marry you," he said softly, kissing her throat, his words setting off something like a miniature explosion between her legs. I must be dreaming, she thought, I must be. She felt his hands on the front of her dress, and her nipples instantly swelled and throbbed as he gently ran his hands over them. She helped him unlace her corset, and he gasped as her breasts came into sight. He bent down and kissed beween them, rubbing his face in her cleavage. She crossed her arms around his head and held him to her breast, and she moaned as she felt him trace a nipple with his tongue. He sucked and licked at her breasts and nipples until Cindy felt like she would explode again. Then he moved down her stomach, placing wet kisses on her belly. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, his touch sending delicious shivers over her skin. His hands slid up further, his warm hands brushing against the damp lips of her sex, causing them to nip wetly at his fingers. He gasped when he felt this, and pushed the hem of her gown up around her waist, staring down at her uncontrollably clasping pussy. She felt ashamed, and was sure that he would send her away now. But to her surprise, he let out a moan and lowered his mouth to her lower lips, kissing them just as passionately. It felt so good! She involuntarily tensed her hips, humping slightly at his face as she felt his tongue and lips exploring her twitching womanhood. She felt a whole series of tingly explosions start going off, and she groaned and arched her back, humping up at his face even harder. She thought she was going to die when he stuck his tongue deep into her, and she felt her pussy squeeze down on it. She had the biggest explosion of all then, and she collapsed in a daze, hardly aware of what was going on. * Prince Edward sat up and looked down at the girl before him with nothing short of pure awe. Her tight little pussy was the prettiest he'd ever seen, and it squeezed! He had never heard of such a thing before, but now that he'd had a chance to feel it clamping down around his tongue and mouth, he didn't care why or how, he just wanted more. But first, he kissed Cindy's wonderfully flat and firm stomach, waiting for her to recover. This was a woman he could love forever, he mused. He was more certain about that than anything. She stirred, smiling weakly. He kissed her lovely breasts, and he felt her hands lifting his shirt. He held up his arms, allowing her to pull it over his head. She ran her fingers over his chest, touching every part of him as if she couldn't get enough. Then she pulled at him until he moved up, kneeling on the sofa with his knees by her shoulders. She gently tugged his trousers around his thighs, then looked at his tented trousers curiously as she tried to pull them down. He helped her by unfastening them, and they fell open, revealing his straining erection to her wide blue eyes. She stared at it for a moment, then propped herself up on her elbows so that his penis was inches away from her beautiful mouth. He felt her warm breath on the head, and he shuddered. She kept her eyes glued to it, almost going crosseyed as she leaned forward to kiss the tip of his cock. She kissed it dryly but tenderly, like it was her best friend. Then her tongue flicked out hesitantly, licking the sensitive underside of his head. He moaned, and she took this as encouragement to take it between her lips. She stopped when she had the spongy helmet in her mouth, then sealed her lips around the shaft and began sucking earnestly, her slick tongue still playing underneath the head. Cindy might not have been as skilled as many of the girls, but what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in eagerness. To his surprise, he already felt the first signs of his approaching orgasm. She was coaxing his seed out of him amazingly fast, and he had to pull away before he came in her mouth. She looked at him questioningly, her pretty lips glistening. "You asked me to make love to you," he explained, moving back down over her and kissing her wet mouth where his penis had been seconds earlier. She moaned into his mouth as he positioned his cock against the slick opening of her pussy. She spread her legs apart as wide as she could, and he felt her tiny pussy trying to suck the head of his cock into her. He groaned, but restrained his desire to plunge it in to her squeezing hole. She was too tight, and he would have to be careful not to hurt her. Slowly, very slowly, he pushed his hips forward, allowing only about half the head to slip inside her. It was a very tight fit, and she gasped every time her pussy clamped wetly down on him. He pushed a little more, and the whole head popped in snugly. He gave her time to adjust, though he had to grit his teeth to keep from exploding in her tight and sucking hole. It felt incredible, but he could only imagine what it would feel like when he was all the way in. Inch by maddening inch, he slipped further in. She was unbelievably tight, and he felt like she would squeeze his dick off if she so much as sneezed. But, she was so wet that as her vagina relaxed and stretched, the pressure would lessen enough for his cock to slide in another inch or so. Finally, their pelvises came together with an incredibly satisfying bump, and the prince could no longer hold out against the sucking and milking actions of her pussy. He was coming almost before he realized it, and he grunted hoarsely as his penis throbbed and exploded, emptying his pent-up sperm into her exquisite body. His pulsed and spurted uncontrollably, filling her with semen until it started leaking out around his shaft and balls and down her exquisite ass. Cindy cried out shortly after the first blast, her body convulsing beneath him as she came just as hard, her pussy clamping down firmly on his penis and refusing to let go. When he finally had nothing left, he fell on top of her, barely able to hold himself up. He kissed her trembling lips, little droplets of his sweat falling on her chest and stomach. She held on to him shakily, moaning and whispering into his ear. "I love you, My Prince, forever and ever." He looked down at her. "And I love you, my Princess, forever and always." * Cindy blushed as he helped her clean up. The white gooey stuff he had put into her sure was sticky, and there was so much of it! He wiped her off, rubbing a cloth between her legs and over her vulva, which was still tender after accomodating his huge thing. It had hurt a little at first, but nowhere near as bad as she thought it would, and it had felt good at the same time. When she felt him slide in all the way and his organ swelled even bigger, a tidal wave of icy-hot pleasure started in her groin. Like a real tidal wave, she could see it coming, but was totally unprepared for its arrival. It crashed over her and she was spinning, lost in an explosion of light and sound that she thought would drive her mad. Now, she had almost recovered, but her legs were still shaky as the Prince, her Prince, helped her get dressed. She looked down at her feet and giggled. The glass slippers were still on her feet. They were so comfortable that she forget she was wearing them, even when she was making love. "There," he said, helping her adjust her dress. "Now, I'll take you to meet my parents, if you feel up to it." She was so used to being ordered around that she answered instantly. "Of course," she said, smiling at her Prince. "I hope we can find them," he said, taking her out of the room on his arm. "Things can get a little strange around here sometimes." They passed a few guards and stepped out into the Ballroom. Cindy blushed as she saw what was going on. Almost everywhere she looked, on the floor, on the tables, even in the rafters, people were naked or semi-naked and making love wildly. The Prince smiled helplessly at her and led her among the sweating, grunting bodies. A man grabbed for Cindy's calf, but she jumped out of his reach before he could get her. "Be careful," the Prince warned. "These things can get out of hand quickly." Cindy giggled as she recognized her stepsisters, Patricia and Roberta. They were both stark naked and sitting on the same man, who's identity was hidden by Patricia's thighs as she sat straddling his face while she kissed her sister Roberta, who was bouncing up and down on the man's lap. Seeing all this was making Cindy warm again, despite the incredible pleasure she'd just had. She squeezed the Prince's hand tightly. Just then, the big clock in the Ballroom started striking. She looked up, and was dismayed to see that it was midnight already! She didn't know what to do. She remembered what her Fairy Godmother had said about the magic wearing off at twelve, but she didn't really believe that, did she? Could she take the chance that the Prince might notice a change and not love her anymore? On the other hand, could she just leave and abandon him? Her glass slippers clinked loudly on the floor, and that made up her mind. With a choked sob, she gave her surprised Prince one more kiss, maybe the last, then turned and ran toward the entrance. "Goodbye," she called over her shoulder, the stunned and confused look on the Prince's face bringing tears to her eyes. She had no way to explain, so she ran. "Wait," the Prince shouted. "Wait!" Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she could barely see where she was going. She almost tripped, and then she felt someone grab at her left foot. She jerked her leg free, but the slipper came off. She kept running until she was outside. She went up to a coach which was parked nearby. "I need to go home," she told the driver. "Fast. Can you take me?" The driver looked at her oddly, but nodded, and she climbed in. As the coach left sight of the pretty castle, Cindy broke down and cried like she hadn't for years. It felt awful, but she felt much better afterward. Good enough to face her stepmother again, almost good enough to face the possiblity of never seeing the Prince again. But at least he might still love her, and that would be enough. * The Prince sat miserably in his chambers, looking wistfully down at the glass slipper that he had managed to wrestle away from a drunken reveler. Like the young woman who had worn it, the slipper was one of a kind, both beautiful and magical. It had been nearly a month since the ball, many long days of searching for the only girl that he would ever love. He still didn't understand why she had run from him. She had seemed sorry to go, but he had been so stunned that he had hesitated too long to catch her, and when he finally made his way through the writhing bodies and to the gate, she was already gone. His heralds had been out scouring the land for weeks, but had come up empty-handed. Edward couldn't understand how a radiant beauty like Cindy could remain unnoticed for so long. He felt empty without her, having little appetite for food and none for any other women. He recalled his promise to the luscious redhead, but he couldn't bear to make love to anyone in his heartbroken state. "My Lord," an attendant said, approaching the Price quietly. "A herald wishes to speak with you." The Prince sighed despondently. Most likely it was another apologetic report on the fruitless search for the girl. "Very well. Send him in." The attendant bowed, then hurried to the chamber door. The man which came through it looked dusty and anxious, and the Prince recognized him as Roland, the man he had sent on an errand to Spain a few days before the Ball. He bowed quickly, looking anxious. "Your Majesty," he began. "I have only just learned of your search for a young woman-" "Yes?" The prince interrupted, rising to his feet and beginning to feel anxious himself. "Do you have news of her?" "I do." Roland swiftly answered. "I would never forget such a face. I know where she may be found, living as the servant to a witchly old maid." The Prince was ecstatic. "We shall go at once!" He called to his servants to ready his coach. * Cindy stared dully at the crystal vases as she washed and polished them. Since she had come back from the ball she had felt numb, consumed with an empty ache. She no longer cared about anything, no longer thought about anything but Him. The Prince. Her Prince. Her stepmother had acted oddly for a while after the ball, but Cindy hardly noticed. All she knew was that her stepsisters were no longer mean to her, and she hadn't even been punished, even when she'd dropped a piece of wood and got pieces of bark on the floor. Her stepmother had only made her clean it up, barely even cursing at her. But, it made little difference to Cindy. Her only joy came late at night, when she would take the glass slipper out from behind her clothes-basket and look at it, stroking the smooth glass and remembering making love to the Prince. She hadn't even had the heart to touch herself or even her sisters, who left her alone and spoke about her sadly when they thought she couldn't hear. Days turned into weeks, and Cindy came to accept that she would never see the Prince again. One afternoon, she was tending to the washing when the doorbell clanged loudly. Cindy expected it was one of the nice young men who her stepsisters had met at the Ball, who often came by only to disappear into their room for a time. She heard her stepmother's voice as she answered the door, then a man's voice in an urgent reply. There was a long pause, then Cindy was surprised to hear her name being called. "Cindy!" Her stepmother squawked. "Come here!" She dropped the clothes and hurried out to the hall, her hands and forearms still covered in soapy water. Cindy dared not hope, but she felt anxious all the same as she ran out into the den. She stopped short as she saw the two men. One was dressed in the cloak of a royal herald and looked vaguely familiar. Her gaze quickly passed him by as she saw the other man. Her head began to spin, and she fainted into the arms of her prince with a blissful smile. The End -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /