A kinky fairytale with a sensual twist











Cinderella: Bound for The Prince is a kinky fairytale with a sensual twist. Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters are not just mean but evil - and they treat her cruelly and treat her as a slave.

Prince Michael holds a ball to find a bride. On the night of the ball, Cinderella, young and innocent, cries in the kitchen after her sisters have left for the ball. Then, a beggar taps softly at her door. Disturbed by her crying, Straparola, her fairy godfather, has appeared to help her attend the ball. But this fairy godfather expects a proper thanks and pleasuring. Once paid, it takes him only a flip of his magic wand to transform Cinderella into the beautiful Ella and send her off in a royal carriage.

At the ball, Ella captures the prince’s heart and his very wicked desires and she realizes that as his future bride she can have anything she wants. Unlike most fairytale heroines, Cinderella finds that she doesn’t want happiness; she wants revenge on her stepmother and stepsisters. The aristocrats have for centuries taken their pleasure at the Hellfire Club, where their most decadent appetites for domination are fulfilled. Prince Michael’s ancestors were leading members and he promises Ella her stepmother and stepsisters will be brought there for any revenge she wants, but only if she will submit to him. Each time Cinderella has to transform into Ella, Straparola also demands her innocent body as a reward. Ella agrees to both men’s bargain – no price is too high to pay for revenge.

Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters are summoned to the palace where they will be given the riches and noble titles they dream of, but the price they must first pay is public humiliation, defilement and strict punishment -- in the confines of the Hellfire Club. It is an offer they cannot refuse.

Here is another searing novel of bondage and submission as only Powerone, bestselling novelist of BDSM can write.




Nestled in the green hills was the village of Hampstead, a farming community that prospered when the weather was good and suffered when the weather was dry.

Today, a young girl stood brokenhearted as her mother was laid to rest. Her father stood by her as the pine coffin was lowered into the ground. He was devastated by the loss of his wife of twenty years and mother of his daughter, Cinderella. They clutched hands as the coffin was lowered by ropes until it disappeared from sight below, the dark earth piled nearby. They paid their final respects, a handful of dirt thrown onto the coffin along with a single red rose.

They went home that night to an empty house that no longer resonated with her cheery laughter. The father, in hopes of consoling his grief, sought to find a woman that would take away his sorrow and also be a good mother to his daughter. In Hempstead, his choices were limited, but he settled on a widow with two daughters about the same age as Cinderella. After a brief engagement, they married and she moved in with her two daughters.

Cinderella hated to see her father in such despair that she never said anything bad of the woman. Lady Browning took charge of the household along with her two daughters, Elizabet and Mary. Cinderella felt the resentment instantly. The daughters were lazy and insolent and thought that they were the most beautiful women of the realm. Lady Browning felt contempt for Cinderella, so pure and good. While Elizabet and Mary slept in feather beds in nice bedrooms, Cinderella was confined to a small closet with a straw bed near the kitchen. Cinderella became the maid for Lady Browning and her daughters, scrubbing their floors, emptying their chamber pots and cooking all the meals as well as cleaning the kitchen.

Cinderella never protested, seeing her father with a smile on his face once again. He worked hard and was rarely home, so he saw none of Lady Browning’s evil temper or mistreatment of Cinderella.

Her father prospered in business for the last two years. Their wealth grew, but he became busier and was home less and less. Cinderella approached her eighteenth birthday in a month when tragedy befell her again. Her father was seriously injured when he inspected one of the farms he owned that was tended by tenant farmers. His leg was caught in a plow, and the doctor had to sever it above the knee. Cinderella took to his bedside as much as she could, but blood poisoning set in as his leg turned gangrene. The doctors tried to save him, but he was gone within two weeks.

The funeral and burial was quick. There were rumors that Lady Browning had something to do with the accident, but Cinderella never talked ill of her. Lady Browning quickly sold the house in Hempstead, and they moved into a large mansion in Manchester. Lady Browning bought it on purpose, nearby to one of the castles of the King of England and home to his son, Prince Michael. Lady Browning had designs on Prince Michael for one of her daughters and she cared little which one married him.

Chapter 1
Trying to Understand Men

Cinderella watched as the shopkeepers brought in furniture for the last two weeks. Lady Browning spent money as if it no longer mattered. Elizabet and Mary had fine rooms with ornately carved furniture, none more than the large canopy beds that took up half the room. The living room had seating for two dozen guests as well as the large table in the dining room. The kitchen was large, but Cinderella’s closet was no bigger than before, situated near the large stove. The mattress was better, a one-inch-thick pad that covered the floor along with a single dresser of three drawers, more than enough to hold her meager collection of clothes. Yet, Cinderella didn’t despair her plight. She’d be eighteen in one day, and she could leave if she wanted to. But, she knew that she wouldn’t, at least not yet. There was nowhere to go, and an unmarried woman never left to live by herself. Most would think that she shamed her family and was banished for some unsavory act.

Lady Browning thought Cinderella was pure and good, but Cinderella knew differently. The last year she had thoughts that she couldn’t put out of her head, sinful thoughts. She’d be confined to the houses for years with only brief visits to the village. Her body matured, but her mind was still young and inexperienced with men. Yet, she couldn’t put them out of her head. She wanted to be with a man, to find one that would love her as her father did her mother.

Elizabet was taller than her sister, Mary, by two inches and a year older, nineteen now. She had red hair that made her stand out, and she made Cinderella meticulously comb it one hundred strokes every night before she went to bed. She had full breasts that she made sure were pushed up high by her corset to reveal her ample, pale cleavage. Her hips were full, perfect for child bearing, and she had a plump bottom that she accented with her corset. Her mother was always on her for eating too much, so Elizabet’s corset was stringently tightened around her body until she could barely breathe. It was worth it when she saw her hourglass figure in the full-length mirror. She often posed in front of the mirror to admire her womanly figure. She knew of her mother’s intentions for Mary or herself to be married to Prince Michael. She had no intentions of letting Mary have him. Elizabet was no longer a virgin; she’d seduce him with her sexy body.

Mary was smarter than her sister. Her body wasn’t as full and womanly as Elizabet, but she was younger and she’d fill out. She knew that men didn’t want just beauty, but they also wanted intellect. Her brown hair was long, below her waist, and that drew men’s eyes to her lush bottom. She was smaller in the chest, so she stood up straighter and made sure her breasts were pushed up prominently. She knew Elizabet wasn’t a virgin, but Mary was. She wasn’t about to give up her innocence until she was married. But, that didn’t mean she knew little of men. She knew enough to give a man his pleasure with her hand and keep him interested and coming back for more.

They all made sure that Cinderella never had anything more than a shabby dress to wear that was always dirty from working in the kitchen. Her pale-blonde hair was long and unkempt. Yet, beneath it all, they were jealous of her beauty, though none of them would admit it. That is why they kept her out of sight and busy with the drudgery of taking care of the house.

Cinderella brushed Elizabet’s hair one hundred strokes with the fine, ivory comb. It slid easily through her silken hair.

“You may go now,” Elizabet dismissed Cinderella curtly.

Cinderella went back to her room. She brushed her hair as best she could with the small comb with broken teeth, a hand-me-down from Mary. She lay down on the mattress and closed her eyes, but her head filled with visions that haunted her sleeping hours.

It was a year ago, almost to the day, that she witnessed it. It was back in the house in Hempstead. Her father was gone on one of his business trips. Cinderella had served dinner and Mary had a beau as a guest. He was a handsome, strapping young man, but he never looked up at Cinderella when she served dinner as if she was invisible.

After dinner, Cinderella served brandies in the living room. Lady Browning stayed for a few minutes before she excused herself. Elizabet followed her shortly thereafter. Cinderella cleaned the kitchen, but she was curious. She went to her room and closed the door and she waited thirty minutes. She opened her door and listened, but she didn’t hear anyone. She crept through the kitchen silently and went to the dining room. She opened the door the slightest bit that went to the living room. It was just the right position for her. Mary and her beau were on the settee. She remembered every single detail as if it happened to her.

Her beau had his arm around Mary’s shoulder and drew her next to him. He lifted up her chin until her lips were only inches from his. Mary wet her lips so sensuously, and then, they touched. Cinderella could see his tongue move out his lips before they met. She was sure that his tongue was in Mary’s mouth. He held her tighter as they turned sideways until their bodies pressed up against each other. Her eyes were closed as they kissed so passionately.

They broke the kiss, but they stayed pressed against each other. “You are so beautiful, Mary.” Jeffrey’s tongue ran over her wet lips.

“You take my breath away, Jeffrey.” His mouth moved down from her lips and nuzzled on her neck as she moaned passionately. He didn’t stop there, his lips moved lower as his mouth ran over her cleavage.

Cinderella couldn’t believe that Mary allowed such indecencies, but it looked as though she thrust her breasts out further. Cinderella watched as he grew bolder. His hand went to her leg, but it pushed her dress out of the way until his hand found the naked flesh of her knee. Yet, Mary did nothing to stop him, and his mouth pushed deep between her breasts. Cinderella could feel her nipples swell as if it were her breasts that were mouthed and licked so passionately. The hand slid higher up her leg, and now, her white thighs were revealed. Mary did nothing to close her legs as the hand caressed her inner thigh.

Cinderella’s hand slid down her leg until she could push her thin dress out of the way. She found her naked thighs as she spread her legs obediently. Her fingers crept closer to her mound when she was stopped in her tracks.

“No, you can’t do that, Jeffrey. I’m a virgin and I intend to stay that way until I’m married.”

Cinderella saw the look of disappointment on Jeffrey’s face when Mary’s hand stopped him in his tracks.

“But, Mary. I have needs. I can’t wait,” he pleaded with her.

“I know your needs, the needs of men. Let me help you.” She smiled as she pushed his hand out from beneath her dress and pulled it down, but her other hand went to his leg. She stopped when it was on his thigh and that is when Cinderella saw it. She’d never noticed it before. The front of his trousers stood up. She knew what it was, yet she never saw one before.

“Yes, yes,” he pleaded with her as he gazed down at her small hand curled next to his organ.

Cinderella could see it move in his trousers, and she wondered why it did without being touched. She heard him moan loudly as Mary’s fingers curled around the protrusion in his trousers. Jeffrey’s head was thrown back in pleasure, yet Mary hardly moved her hand.

“Do you want me to stroke it for you, Jeffrey?”

“Yes, let your magical fingers caress my prick,” his voice was deep and heavy.

He’d called it his prick. She saw Mary’s fingers move, tightening on the thick prick beneath his trousers. She began to move them up and down. Cinderella didn’t know it would be so big and long. It was as though her fingers explored it. Then, she did something that Cinderella didn’t understand. Her other hand slid between his legs. He spread his legs as a woman would do as her fingers curled between them until she clutched him. He moved as though he was startled, and she got another deep moan from his lips. Her fingers weren’t still, now both of them moved urgently. Cinderella didn’t know what Mary did, but Jeffrey was in ecstasy.

“Take it out so you can worship my prick, Mary.” He grew bolder.

Cinderella grew excited at the thought of seeing a prick for the first time. She felt wetness between her legs, and it scared her. Why do I grow wet? She couldn’t take her eyes off of Mary as she expertly unbuttoned his trousers as though she’d done this a hundred times. She pulled his trouser open, but Jeffrey was eager. He lifted up his lower body, and Mary pulled his trousers down. Cinderella got a better view of his prick. It pushed up his undergarment, and she could make it out better. It was thick and long. She saw a wet spot on his undergarment. What happened that made him do that?

“Take them off; I must feel your hand on my naked prick,” Jeffrey cried out urgently. His lower body rose up again as Mary tugged his undergarment down.

Cinderella’s eyes were glued to his prick, not his undergarment. It looked like it caught on his undergarment, but then, it pulled free. She put a hand on her mouth to contain her surprised gasp when it was revealed. It looked so menacing, bouncing freely on its own. She’d never seen anything like it before. It was as big as a hand, but it looked like a hat sat on the top of it, a dark, angry red hat, thicker than the stalk that held it up. The shaft had thick veins that ran up it, but it also had a thatch of wiry, black hair at the base.

“Touch it,” Jeffrey begged her once again.

Cinderella couldn’t believe how easy it was to control a man with your hand. Mary barely did anything, and he begged her like a baby.

“Yes, I’ll take care of my man,” Mary purred at him. Her hand reached down to clasp his throbbing prick and control its erratic movement. She began to stroke it instantly.

Jeffrey moaned once again as soon as her hand stroked it. Cinderella saw Mary hold it straight up as her fingers curled around the shaft and began to stroke it up and down. Then, her other hand slid over the helmet of his prick and ran a finger on the tip. When she pulled it back, wetness pulled away and stretched for inches before it broke. She rubbed the wetness on her finger over the head of his prick until it glistened. Had she coaxed out those drops on purpose?

“My balls, grasp my balls gently.”

Cinderella saw Mary grip him between his legs, in the thatch of thick hair as her fingers gripped onto something, but she couldn’t see what it was, but Jeffrey’s hips rose up in pleasure as Mary used both hands to stroke and grasp him. Her hands moved rhythmically. What is between his legs that bring him so much pleasure?

“Is this what you want, Jeffrey?”

Cinderella saw Mary tease him with her hands. Then, Jeffrey grabbed her breast and that shocked Mary for a second.

“What are you doing?” She stopped stroking his prick when he grabbed her so rudely.

“Let me see your bosom when I cum?”

Cinderella expected Mary to stop and push him away after such a vulgar request, but Cinderella was surprised by Mary’s response.

“Okay, but give me your handkerchief. I don’t want a mess.” While he reached into his trouser pocket to get it, she put her hand into her bosom and pulled out one of her breasts as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Cinderella could barely breathe as she watched the two of them in this obscene act. Jeffrey fondled her bare breast, and Cinderella saw how Mary’s nipple grew hard, just as her own did now. Mary’s hands stroked and gripped him, with the handkerchief nearby. Cinderella knew that men shot out their seed, but she’d never seen such a thing before. She thought it was always inside a woman. That is why it is his seed.

Cinderella watched the end of his prick, the spot where it dripped before. Mary’s hand stroked him faster, long, broad strokes up and down the shaft. Cinderella noticed that Mary’s fingers tightened as it passed over the thick ridge around the helmet of his prick and that inspired him to leak out more of his juices. His face grew tighter and red and his breathing picked up. He moaned louder, and Cinderella knew it would be soon. But, Mary disappointed Cinderella. At the point where he cried out and his body went rigid, she threw the handkerchief over his prick. Cinderella saw it grow wet with a thick stain as Mary continued to stroke him. Her other hand between his legs moved rapidly as though she were milking a cow. Then, she smelled it. It was an unfamiliar smell that had to be his seed.

Finally, Mary stopped and handed the wet handkerchief to him as she pulled her hands away. Cinderella snuck away silently and went to her room. She didn’t sleep well that night, too many dreams, and each time she woke up, her hands were between her legs.

* * * *

“Cinderella, you ugly cow, get my coffee. How come you’re so slow today? Are you feeble?” Lady Browning was short with Cinderella today. Ever since they moved, she’d become moody and unresponsive.

Cinderella rushed to the kitchen to get her coffee and brought it back. She sat it down, and Lady Browning snarled at her.

“Get out, the girls will be down in a minute and they’ll want their breakfast. Don’t make them wait.”

Cinderella rushed to cook their breakfast, and before she was finished, they were yelling from the dining room. She rushed in with their food and coffee.

“Empty my chamber pot,” Elizabet shouted out to Cinderella.

“I need my yellow dress cleaned and ironed before dinner, Cinderella. And do a good job.” Mary’s orders rang out.

They ignored Cinderella as they talked among themselves. “How was Jeffrey, Mary?” Lady Browning asked her. He was a handsome beau and would be a good catch if Mary couldn’t get Prince Michael interested in her.

“He’s fine, Mother. He’s interested in me, but I left him dangling on a string.” She sought approval from her mother. She’d been with Jeffrey on and off for over a year.

“I have great news for all of us. The king is having a grand ball in honor of his son, Prince Michael. We’ve been noticed since we moved in. We have invitations to it.”

Elizabet and Mary almost danced in glee. Their mother had promised them a chance at meeting Prince Michael. That was their reason for moving here. They both held off getting serious with any other man, neither one would give up the chance to be a princess and eventually become the queen.

“When, when is it?” Elizabet was breathless.

“In two weeks.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll go into town and find the finest seamstress to make us all new dresses. The prince will see the most beautiful women he has ever seen that night. The prince will have to choose between the two of you,” Lady Browning boasted.

“It’ll be me,” Elizabet boasted.

“No, it’ll be me. I’ll enchant him with my beauty and intellect,” Mary wasn’t to be outdone.

* * * *

During the next two weeks, the stepdaughters drove Cinderella crazy with their demands, even more than usual. Cinderella didn’t have a minute alone for herself, always doing something for them as they got ready for the ball.

Cinderella saw their dresses, the finest that she’d ever seen before. Even the threads that stitched them were gold. They were long and flowing, and the shoes to match were made of the finest leather and graced with precious stones. Their corsets were made of silk as if they were made to be seen. As much as she was jealous of them, she wished them no ill will. “Let me fix your hair for the ball. It’ll look like spun silk when I’m finished.”

“Are you sure you can do it, Cinderella? I don’t want anything to spoil their night at the ball.” Lady Browning was cautious, but she’d seen the magic she had worked on their hair before. And she worked diligently on both girls hair each night for years now.

As much as she hated the way the three of them treated her, she knew that she had to live with them and anything that she did for them would make her life easier. One day she’d be rid of them, and it was at that time she could get her revenge for their treatment of her. “Yes, you’ll be the belle of the ball.”

* * * *

It was a mad house the day of the ball. Cinderella was driven crazy by the three of them and their frantic requests. They started early in the morning without any let up. First, she had to draw three baths for them with the finest perfumes and bubbles and lots of hot water. Each one wanted her attention at the same time.

The good thing was no one ate lunch, none dared to or else they might not fit into their dresses. The best part was helping them with their corsets, especially Elizabet. She was always eating too much, and the corsets grew tighter, more stringent.

“Hold still while I tighten it.” Cinderella pushed on her back as she drew each of the strings back until they were tight, but it still wasn’t enough. “Take a breath and hold it in,” she warned her as she tugged with all her might.

Elizabet couldn’t breathe, unable to fill her lungs as the corset tightened around her middle, but when she saw the way her proud breasts pushed up so defiantly, she knew it was worth it. “More,” she urged Cinderella.

Cinderella tightened the strings around her waist and hips and drew them in tight. She put a knee on her lower back to get leverage and grunted as she tightened it.

Elizabet was frantic as her body was entombed in the corset, but she couldn’t deny the way it drew her body into a perfect hourglass figure. Prince Michael wouldn’t be able to draw his eyes away from her. “Yes, yes,” she cried out in pleasure.

Elizabet finally got to put on the dress, and she was impressed at how she looked. There would be no doubt that she’d be the belle of the ball. She could barely sit down so Cinderella could put on her shoes. “My hair, do my hair now.”

“I’ll be back. I have to help the others get their dresses on. It won’t take long.” Cinderella rushed off to help Mary and Lady Browning. Mary’s corset was almost as tight, and Cinderella made sure that it was stringent. She helped her into her dress, and Mary looked pleased at her reflection. Lady Browning was last, her corset not as tight, but she didn’t have the youthful figure or looks of her daughters. “You look magnificent, M’lady. Prince Michael will choose you, not Elizabet or Mary,” she teased her.

“You think so,” as she gazed into the mirror. She still had a striking figure and great looks. I could make the prince’s heart my own.

The carriage arrived, the finest that Lady Browning could hire. It had a driver as well as footman and was drawn by four white horses, dressed in all their finery including headsets of feathers. The women flitted around as Cinderella finished up all the last details. Their hair was her finest work, but none of them uttered a word of praise. Cinderella watched as the carriage left, her work done until they came home late at night and she’d have to help them off with their clothes. She went to her room and lay on the bed.

Chapter 2

Cinderella began to cry as if a dam had burst. It felt like her whole life was falling apart when she saw Lady Browning and her daughters attend the ball while she slaved away for them. She saw no future for her, only despair.

Startled, she looked up and heard it again. There was a faint tapping coming from the kitchen. She was scared, home alone in the house. She slowly crept into the dark kitchen and heard the tapping again. It came from the back door. Through the window, she saw a man stand there. He was older and looked like a beggar from the look of his shabby clothes. She’d never turn down a person that was down in their luck. She went to the door, braver than she expected she’d be. She opened it just an inch. “Can I help you?”

“Can you help a man out? I haven’t eaten for two days.”

“I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to share my meager dinner.” It was still on the stove where she left it. In her despair, she’d forgotten it. He sat down next to the fire, and she could see him better. He wasn’t as old as she thought, about the age of her father when he died. But the minute she put a plate in front of him, he bent over and began to shovel the food into his mouth without taking a breath. He hardly seemed threatening, and he was starving.

She sat in front of her plate, but she only pushed her food around. It wasn’t long before he finished. “Would you like some more?”

“I won’t take your meal, M’lady.”

She pushed her plate over to him. “No, you take it, I’m not hungry.” He began to shovel in the second plate of food with the same gusto as the first. When he finished, he finally looked satisfied.

His belly was finally filled. “Thank you, M’lady. That was the finest feast I’ve had in months.”

“What is your name?”

“Straparola. Your eyes are red, and you have tears that stain your satiny skin. What makes you so sad?”

She suddenly spilled her guts as if he was her closest friend. The ball that she thought nothing of, all of a sudden became so important to her life, though she didn’t know why. “My stepmother and my stepsisters all went to the prince’s ball, but I am left home. I have no fine clothes to wear or a way to get there.” She began to cry once again.

“I can help you.”

She looked up at him, a harmless beggar. “How can you help me, you don’t look much better off than I am?”

“You’re much more beautiful than I am. You’ll go or my name isn’t Straparola, your godfather.”

Cinderella had heard tales of fairy godmothers but never a godfather that protected those that couldn’t help themselves. “I didn’t know I had a godfather.”

“Ever since your mother died, I’ve looked out for you. With the death of your father, I knew you’d need me soon enough. I’m here for you now.”

Could this man be what I need to get out of my despair? She needed any kind of help she could get. She’d give him a chance. “Go ahead, do your magic.” She didn’t expect much.

Straparola looked around the room until he saw what he needed. “Grab that apple, the big one. Take it to the front driveway and place it in the center.” She watched as he walked through the house as if he knew where he was going. He went out the front door but not before he stooped down low near the pantry and scooped up something in his hands.

She looked as he pulled what looked like a wand from his worn pocket, but it could just as well be a stick he found in the woods. He released what he had in his hand, and she saw six large cockroaches on the ground, but they didn’t run away. They stood next to the apple.

“Stand back,” he warned her. He tapped his wand on the apple then on the six black cockroaches. There was a whoosh, and a rush of a white mist rose up.

When the mist cleared, Cinderella was surprised. It was the finest carriage she ever saw, painted silver. Hooked up to it were six black steeds, shiny and muscular as though they were the finest horses in the country. Am I dreaming? “Whaattt—” but she was cut short.

“Wait for me. Don’t let the horses run off.” He disappeared into the barn.

He was back in a minute; the horses snorting as they sought to run and stretch their lean muscles. She held the reins as though she knew what she was doing. When he came back, he held two rats, big and powerful, but he cradled them in his hands as if they were pets. He put them down, and he tapped his wand on them. The mist rose up, and when it cleared, there stood two large, distinguished men in black attire of the finest cloth. One held a whip.

“Your driver and your footman are here to serve you. You’re ready now.”

She looked down, still in her drab and dirty dress. “I can’t go like this.”

Straparola looked confused for a moment. “Oopps, I forgot. Let’s go inside before we catch a cold.” He turned to the driver. “We’ll be out soon.”

He asked her to show him her room. She was ashamed it was so small and cramped. He went through her dresser and brought out another dress, at least this one was clean. In his hands, he held her undergarment, but he had an uncomfortable look on his face as if he shouldn’t be touching her unmentionables.

He turned his back. “Put them on.” He heard the rustling of clothes, and then, she spoke.


He turned and looked at her as her beauty began to shine through. It took three swipes of his wand. One was on the top of her head, once on her shoulder and then finally at her waist. The mist was thicker this time. When it cleared, there was a full-length mirror in front of her. He saw the shocked look on her face when she saw herself.

It couldn’t be her, looking at the reflection that shined back from the mirror. She wore a gown that was encrusted with jewels and was sewn with thread made of gold. It clung to her body like a second skin. Her hair was piled on top of her head in the most gorgeous coiffure she’d ever seen. She couldn’t even do it that way. It was topped with a diamond-encrusted tiara. She could feel her undergarments beneath the dress, so silky and smooth. He’d really done it. She was speechless.

Straparola waited until she could gather her senses. He saw the look of awe in her eyes. She was every bit as beautiful as he knew she would be.

“I don’t recognize me.” She still couldn’t believe it. She never expected she’d look like this. After all the years of her stepmother and stepsisters telling her how ugly she was, she began to believe them. Now, she knew they were wrong and spiteful.

He looked down and saw that he wasn’t finished. Her feet were bare, but that was on purpose. He took her crumpled, worn slippers and tapped the wand on them. When the mist cleared, the finest pair of glass shoes was before him. They had high heels, over three inches and had two straps that would encase her ankles tightly. She went to take them from him, but he pulled them back. “One last thing.”

Not only were the glass shoes in his hand, but he’d changed. He was no longer dirty and unkempt. His suit was immaculate, and his shirt white and starched. He no longer looked old, but he was still older, like her father was. She reached for the shoes, but he pulled them away.

“Sit down and let me take care of you.”

She sat down on the chair and felt his hands on her ankles. It should feel uncomfortable for a strange man to touch her with so much familiarly, but it wasn’t. It was as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. His hands were soft, not calloused, and they felt like they caressed her feet. He lifted up both of her feet and put them in his lap. He scooted forward, and then, she felt it. There was no mistaking it. That should have warned her or made her scared, but it didn’t. Her feet were on top of his prick, and he was hard. She’d seen Mary with her beau when she stroked him, but she’d never felt a prick before. She felt it move beneath her feet. Did I do that?

“I thought you might want to thank your fairy godfather.” He couldn’t control his prick. The slightest movement of her feet made it jump in such excitement.

His prick moved more. “I don’t know what you want?” She was nervous and excited at the same time. She wanted to go to the ball, but she was beholden to Straparola. Without his help, she’d still be crying in her room in her rags. Instead, she was dressed like a princess and had a carriage ready to take her in style.

His fingers moved on her naked toes, and his prick stirred as he began to move her feet gently back and forth across his prick. “I’m here to guide you in all your endeavors, Cinderella.” He’d get his pleasure with her help.

He moved her feet more but slowly and gently over the increasing bulge in his trousers. It felt like a wild animal was trapped beneath her feet, jerking uncontrollably, only restrained by his trousers. She had an idea of what he wanted. He spread his legs wider and pulled back. He lowered her feet until they were on the chair he sat on, but her feet were between his legs.

“Wiggle your toes and move your feet.”

She didn’t have to be told what he wanted, the same thing Mary’s beau wanted with her hands. It was odd that he wanted her to caress his prick with her toes and feet, but she wouldn’t deny him his pleasure, no matter that it was a bit shameful. She began to wiggle her toes and soon found his prick. It was so hard and thick, and the slightest touch of her toes made it jump. She watched her toes as if someone else moved them. They curled and tried to grip the thick shaft. His prick was elusive, always moving as if it tried to get away. She began to use both of her feet to trap it then curled her toes around it. It felt so powerful beneath her toes. Then, she did something she never expected she’d do. Her toes slid down lower between his legs. She sought out the same thing that Mary did with her other hand. Cinderella wanted to see what made him so excited. He gasped when her toes pushed into something, wiggling them until she could feel something floating around, moving away elusively from her toes. She continued to chase it and found there were two of them. They were round and floated between his legs. She still didn’t know what they were, but if she pushed too hard and trapped them beneath her feet, he moaned louder, almost as if he were in pain.