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Old 18th August 2010
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Cinderella: An Erotic Fairy Tale

The story retold, and introducing a Witch, some ruffians and rats, a Curse, and a Member of Unusual Size.

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl named Cindy, who was probably the happiest girl in the kingdom. Her father was a rich merchant, and he doted on her, spoiling her with pretty clothes and shiny bobbles. She grew to become a singular beauty and she got all kinds of shagging. From the neighbourhood boys, not her father – this isn't that kind of tale. Her mother would bake her cookies (or, at least she had the servants do it) and Cindy would sing and play and screw away her days, without a care.

And then it all went to shit. Her mother died suddenly - nobody got the number of the red coach that ran her down. Her father went into a decline and closed himself in his room all day, not eating, not merchandizing. He ignored the household accounts, and the servants all left with the silverware. Cindy did the best she could, but things got steadily worse, until one day a woman she had never seen before came to the door and offered to nurse her father back to health.

The woman, whose name was Hilda, succeeded marvellously. Her father's bedsprings sang night and day, until a week later he emerged to announce to Cindy that he was going to re-marry on the morrow. So the very next evening Hilda, who was now Cindy's stepmother, moved in the rest of her belongings. A lovely crimson coach pulled up filled with trunks and bales and Hilda's two daughters.

Cindy's new stepsisters were unfriendly and unlovely – in a word they were ugly. Worse, her stepmother turned out to be just as rotten. Wicked, even. They treated her very badly. She had to do all the work she had done before, and now be their servant too, although there was lots of money to hire new staff. Since they made her clean out the ovens and the fireplace (as well as everything else), they took to calling her Cinderella. It was Cinderella scrub this, Cinderella fetch that, the whole day long.

It was all quite dreadful. Hilda made sure her father worked long hours at his office, and when he was home he ignored Cindy. It was as though he was in a trance. And the boys began to stay away; except for one she didn't really like much anyway. He only came around because Hilda would pay him to make out with her ugly daughters, a gold piece per base per daughter, no discounts for threesomes.
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When the palace announced a masquerade ball was to be held in honour of the young Prince Alan's twenty-first birthday, Cindy's father naturally received an invitation. (Did I mention he was rich?) Small good this did Cindy. Her stepsisters only laughed at her when she wistfully said how fine it would be to go, and then they told her to be more careful ironing their gowns.

The night of the ball, Cindy found herself home alone cleaning out the fireplace yet again, and weeping, her falling tears lifting little puffs of ash as they landed at her feet.

"Cinderella! How shallow can you get?" asked a voice from behind her.

Cindy whirled around to confront a short dumpy figure in a sequined dress. "It's Cindy! And I don't care," she wailed. "I wanted to meet the Prince!" Then she added, "Who the heck are you?"

"I'm Shirley, your Fairy Godmother, of course."

Cindy thought Shirley was a bit mannish looking, and her dress didn't really fit very well, so that the tops of her bosoms were squeezed out, but she sparkled so she was clearly magical. She soon proved it.

"You really want to go to this thing, huh?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

"You got it then, dearie!" Shirley pulled a little stick out of her belt, waved it in the air, and flash – Cinderella's ragged dress became a slinky gown of silk the colour of soot. This particular shade of grey may not be so great when it's smudged on a girl's face and knees, but if it is on her low-cut dress, one that clings like a second skin, and which allows you to imagine you can see everything through its sheerness – then it is HOT.

Cindy looked down. Her old dress had done it's best to squash her breasts flat, making breathing difficult, but in this dress they stuck out proudly before her. And her hair, which had been tied up in an old kerchief, now flowed glossy and free over her bare shoulders. She could easily pass for twenty.

There was another flash, and Cindy felt a gentle pressure on her head. Looking in the mirror over the mantle she saw she was now wearing a tiara, its thin circlet of gold dusted with so many diamonds that she appeared to be wearing a halo of light. It flared brightly as it reflected the flash of the Fairy conjuring Cindy some classy slippers.
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Shirley was on a roll, now. Flash again – and some hapless kittens became footmen. Another flash and a pumpkin in the corner became a shiny black coach, knocking over the buffet and dining table. "Shit," said the Fairy, as she flashed it out onto the street. More burst of light, and six cowering mice suddenly became rather confused ponies, and two rats who were trying to slip out the back way found themselves transformed into Hired Goons. "They'll look after you," Shirley said. Their shifty eyes and the ratty tails protruding from under their cloaks suggested otherwise, but when she flourished her wand and added, "or else," they took the hint.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Cindy squealed, giving her Fairy Godmother a huge hug and kissing her powdery cheek. She was so excited she just had to perform a spin test in her gown, twirling around to see the effect. Her hair lofted up, but, wonderfully, so did her tight skirt, floating up around her as though it was made of gossamer. She danced across the room, unaware that she was flashing excellent views of her delectable little pussy. The goons leered.

"Hmm. That reminds me," said Shirley. "One last thing. Or two, actually." With a flash Cindy was wearing a black mask, not the sort one wore for a masquerade, usually, but rather a narrow band of black silk knotted over her left ear. The effect was quite exotic, making her look like a corsair princess. Except ...

"Shit," the fairy muttered again, there was a small 'puff', and Cindy blinked through the two eyeholes that had abruptly appeared in her mask.

Then a final flash – and nothing to see at all. "Now you can handle the prince's curse," Shirley said with a smirk.

"What curse?" Cinderella's eyes shone wide, inside her mask.

It was the Fairy's turn to be surprised. "What? Oh ... well, a few years back the Prince used to run with a pretty rough crowd. You ever heard of Pisstol? Baredolph? Pym? No? How about Fullstaff?" Her eyes misted over at some fond memory. "No – I suppose you wouldn't have. They used to carouse and drink down in Westcheap, mostly in Mistress Speedy's place - the Boar's Little Head. You're sure you never heard this story?"

Cindy shrugged, so Shirley continued on, "The Prince was just a youngish lad then, mind. So when a raggedy old woman came in and asked for a jar of cider, Prince Al made fun of her pointy black hat. Everyone went quiet and moved away from him ... um, so they tell me," she added. "Anyway, the old girl just smiled and offered to grant him a wish. Everybody moved back another couple of feet, but Al didn't take the hint, and said he wouldn't mind being hung like a horse. We all ... I mean, everyone there gasped, excepting the witch. She just glowered – he'd taken all the fun out of it, you see. It was like shooting fish in a barrel."

"So what happened?"
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do you lyk it??? shall i continue???
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"So, after that, all of Prince Al's girlfriends ran away, and people started calling him Al the Peg – behind his back, of course."

"Al the Peg?"

"You know – the man with the extra leg?"

"Extra leg?" Cindy puzzled, "Oh – you mean his peggo!" She beamed, as the light dawned. Then, as the full implications hit her, she added, "Ohh!"

"It's sort of got a mind of its own, too, but I'm not entirely sure that was the witch's doing. Most of them are like that, anyway."

Cindy goggled and looked down at the grey silk outlining her tingling pussy. Her Fairy Godmother seemed to have done something to her, but she didn't feel any different.

Shirley marvelled at the girl's innocence, given her favourite pastime. She would have been knocked up long since, had it not been for her Fairy Godmother. "Oh, and, mumble, mumble midnight," she said.

"Say what?"

"I said, you have to be out of there by midnight. The magic is mostly, like, a time-limited deal." The Fairy Godmother looked a little defensive. "So get going!"

"Aren't you coming with me?" Cindy was a bit alarmed.

"You go on ahead, dear. I expect I'll look in on you later. Right now I have some, um, business to attend to, down in Westcheap."

In no time at all, Cindy found herself at the palace being handed down out of the coach onto a red carpet, her ratty Goons looking to right and left, each with a hand under his cloak gripping his sword handle in case of trouble. The palace lackeys were suitably impressed, and hurried forward to toady her in through the huge front doors.

"Whom shall I announce, my Lady?" asked an obsequious doorman.

"Umm ... Princess Sindri of Erewon." Nobody, she was sure, would figure that one out. The name was passed, along with Cindy, to an official announcer at the top of a huge stairway, which led to the main ballroom. The man lifted a doubtful eyebrow, but after taking in the view of the beautiful masked girl in front of him, he smiled and turned to proclaim the Princess's arrival to the crowd below. She took in a deep breath and then started down the marble stair to make her entrance.
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Up until then the Prince had been bored mindless and, frankly, since the arrival of the ugly stepsisters he had been a little nauseous, as well. There weren't actually many young ladies at the ball. Some girls from the city had come, like the stepsisters, out of curiosity, and they quickly whispered warnings of his affliction to a few uninformed young ladies from foreign parts. The Prince had spent most of the evening sitting alone, looking so bleak that only the king dared to intrude, at one point dragging some reluctant dukes over to talk about last night's big game (the Tigers vs. the Hunters). But when the Prince heard the strange new Princess announced, and saw the beautiful girl sweep down the staircase, he was on his feet to greet her in an instant.

Cindy curtseyed – his mask was lettered 'Prince Alan" in emeralds to prevent embarrassing incidents – and he bowed in turn and swept her straight out onto the dance floor. Luckily the conductor was alert, and the court orchestra struck up a lively waltz.


The Prince danced well, but Cindy couldn't help noticing that his right trouser leg, although very loosely cut, stirred as though he had a large truncheon stuffed down his pants. Although this was, in fact, not unusual among a certain class in the city, it wasn't to be expected of a prince, and Cindy found herself blushing.

For her part, Cindy danced with some exuberance, unaware of the breeze on her bottom. The assembled guests knew they should be scandalized, but she was a Princess, and clearly she did not intend to make a lewd display – she danced with the innocent abandon of a child on a beach. And, there it was again – she was a Princess, so allowances would be made.

There were a few exceptions, of course. An elderly general had a coughing fit and had to be wheeled into the library for a restorative brandy. And the ugly stepsisters, normally given to bickering, were agreed on this subject.

"Tramp," said one.

"Slut," said the other.
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More to come...
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nice
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tady_Bear View Post
nice



thanx brother for visiting...
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Old 19th August 2010
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thanks hunter_eye..............go on...............good work..................

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