by Powerone
“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
Transformed
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? S
he 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.
“Ready.”
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.
Her questing toes sought out his balls, exploring them with such innocence. She pushed too hard, and his stomach ached, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt. Then, she moved one foot up to his prick while the other continued to chase his balls. Her feet began to move more vigorously. She rubbed his prick with such skill, as if it were her hands. He watched her feet move as he felt the gentle, urgent rubbing on his prick.
She could see the look of pleasure spread across his face as she rubbed him. She began to feel something. Is it pleasure that I feel from giving him pleasure? He put his hand on her feet and lifted them up from his lap. She thought she’d done something wrong and he no longer enjoyed her touch. Then, his other hand went to his belt and opened it. His hands went to the buttons on his trousers, and he opened them slowly, one by one. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the front of his pants. She saw his undershorts reveal
ed, but then, he lifted his butt off the chair and moved her feet higher. She knew why as he slowly pushed his trousers down with one hand. It was difficult, but he soon succeeded. His undershorts bulged up from his hard prick beneath it. There was a drop of wetness on his shorts. She knew her toes had done that just as Mary’s hands had done it to her beau’s prick. She was ready when he lowered her feet onto his lap again.
Cinderella’s toes curled around his prick as she trapped it between both of her feet. Her toes moved as they caressed his prick, and he couldn’t contain the drops of precum that she urged out. She explored all of his prick and now lower between his legs.
She could feel what was between his legs now. It was a soft bag, but inside were the two elusive balls. When she pushed too hard on them, he moaned louder, more in pain than pleasure. They must be fragile, so she tried to be careful, yet her curiosity got the best of her. His undershorts grew wetter, and she saw the look on his face. He grew excited. His prick felt like it grew bigger. How big could it get?
They were both silent except for his moans and groans. He didn’t want to spoil the moment with words, not until he got his final pleasure, and it would have to be soon. He couldn’t last much longer. It had been a long time since he had a woman give him his pleasure, but he knew he’d have more from Cinderella. She had big dreams, and they would cost her. He hoped that she’d be willing to pay the price he’d extract from her.
Her feet were grabbed in his eager hands once again, and Cinderella grew excited. She knew he’d reveal his prick to her. He wanted to feel her toes on it. She’d get her first glimpse up close and personal to a man’s prick and the mysterious bag between his legs. There’d be no handkerchief to hide his pleasure when he came. She’d see him spew his seed, and she was sure she’d feel it on her feet.
It didn’t take him long to strip down his undershorts. His prick stood up like a giant spear, as if it were trying to reach for her toes. He let her feet down until they were on both sides of his prick and then released them. He waited patiently, but the minute his hands left her feet, they began to move. He saw the look in her eyes as they twinkled with such innocence and excitement the minute her naked feet touched his excited prick.