Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome

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Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome Page 12

by Candace Smith


  Cynthia saw the girl glance at Liam and blush. Blushing was something the girl could not hide. Cynthia gave her almost a questioning look. Frances let her eyes travel around the room. Things the family took for granted were quite obvious to the girl. The portraits and statues all featured erotic scenes, and there were pillows beside chairs on the floors as well as some bolts secured in curious places. The whole family is into the same thing Liam and I enjoy, Frances realized.

  She thought about Liam’s reply when she asked him about his work. “Cynthia, Liam tells me you are quite an avid flower collector.” She looked around the room for reactions. Daryl coughed, Sloan froze, and Kyle almost spat out his beer. Alexander smiled at her warmly, with almost an excited approval in his eyes. Frances was encouraged as she realized her outrageous deductions about this family were looking more and more as though they were accurate. “I think I would like to see them sometime.”

  “Oh, shit,” Liam whispered.

  Cynthia stared into the girl’s eyes, and Frances gave her a slight nod. “Daryl brought me a special Orchid I’ve been working on. Of course, I’m only a week into training…”

  “I’d love to see your new flower,” Frances said. She understood there would be no turning back. Either way, she was sure that Cynthia knew that she was aware of their secret.

  “Alexander… do you think?” Cynthia questioned.

  “I think Liam’s little angel has extraordinary capabilities and intuition,” Alexander chuckled. “I’ll go fetch your Orchid.”

  Liam cleared his throat. “The Orchid, mother?”

  “Only your angel is prettier, Liam,” Cynthia assured him.

  “If I were a flower, what would you name me?” Frances asked curiously.

  “That’s easy,” Cynthia answered. “Calla… for my slender white calla lilies. Even though they’re not as exotic as some other species, though I have managed some interesting hybrids, they have a serene grace, beautiful curving white lines, and they used to be a favorite of my mother’s.”

  “Is that where you learned gardening?” Frances asked.

  “It’s where my love of gardening was inspired,” Cynthia agreed.

  “Mother, are you sure? I mean, Frances and I have not discussed…” Liam was unsure how to proceed. He had counted on a few days in the guesthouse to figure out a way to discuss things with Frances.

  Frances answered, “Liam, do you remember telling me that you thought your mother and I shared a kindred alliance? Trust your instincts. I promise, this won’t break me either.”

  “But, Frances, you don’t understand.” Liam began to panic. This is a mistake. She’s going to despise us… she’s going to despise me.

  “Understand what, Liam?” Frances asked gently. “That the ‘flowers’ you and your brothers collect for your mother… are women?” Frances saw the almost pained expression on her lover’s face. “I think I began to realize yesterday, when you started getting nervous and making excuses. Today, I almost had to put my foot on the pedal to get us here in time for dinner. Any slower, and we would have been going in reverse.”

  Frances turned to Cynthia. “Naturally, I assumed it was because he was embarrassed to introduce me to you. That’s a scenario I’m familiar with. I slowly began to realize that he had begun to think of differences in his family that might make me uncomfortable. Then, there was the suggestion we stay in the guesthouse, instead of the main building. There were a few other things he said, but when I looked around your room… you have no flowers in here. I would expect vases or portraits of bouquets from such an avid collector. Instead, all the artwork is of beautiful women… in some rather unusual situations,” Frances added.

  She looked at one picture of a woman tied to a bed with silk scarves and blindfolded. There was a naked man kneeling beside her, and another standing by the foot railing. “Liam, I think I like that one the best.” Frances had no idea why she felt so at ease with these people, and so completely confident and accepted. The nervousness had left the brothers’ faces, and they were looking at her with almost the same intense warmth Liam usually had in his eyes, though she could see that Liam was still ready to grab her hand and bolt. “A slipper for every foot,” Frances murmured.

  “What?” Cynthia asked.

  “Oh… it’s just something mother used to say to make me feel better. She’d read me Cinderella, and when the prince placed the glass slipper onto her foot, she told me that is what my life would be like. That I should be patient, because there would be a perfect fit for me somewhere in the world.”

  “Liam, did you tell her?” Cynthia asked. She had paled slightly. The secret was held in the family, because this feeling of unaccepted inadequacy was her only weakness.

  Frances turned to Liam and asked, “Remember when you picked me up in the middle of nowhere?” She turned to Cynthia and said, “It really was the middle of nowhere. At the last minute, I decided to go to a concert, and for the first time in my life, I hitchhiked. I mean, obviously with my limitations, the entire idea was dangerous. My first ride was from a truck driver who left me off on some back road. Two trucks passed me in three hours, and then Liam came along, buzzing down the back road in his sport car. When he stopped, I couldn’t believe it. I was quite a ridiculous sight, I imagine, with my floppy hat, flannel shirt and sunglasses covering half my face.”

  “I thought you were beautiful,” Liam admitted. It was all that he seemed to be able to manage.

  “We started talking, and you kept trying to get me to take my sunglasses off. When I finally did, I expected you to ditch me at the next stop. Instead, you told me how girls should have been envious… how men should have actually wanted me. At first, I thought you were making fun of me, but I began to see that you were serious. It reminded me of my prom… or rather, my ‘should have been’ prom.” Frances stared at her lap in painful memory. “I ended up finding the brightest star outside my window, and actually wishing, maybe begging, for my fairy godmother to come rescue me. Little girls can hang a lot of dreams on fairytales.” She looked up at Cynthia. “I hadn’t thought of that in years, until Liam picked me up.”

  Frances looked into the swimming green of Cynthia’s filled eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Frances said. “I didn’t mean to depress everyone. Believe me, I am well used to the smirks and stares and isolation by now. It hardly ever gets to me. It hasn’t hit me once since I met Liam,” she smiled.

  Daryl spoke up, “Maybe we’re a little odd, Frances, but I can assure you that every one of us sees you as a most exquisite flower.”

  “And without sounding cocky, I think we’re expert judges in that matter.” Sloan issued a rare smile.

  “Alexander calls it ‘Cinderella Syndrome’,” Cynthia replied. “I rather thought it was a condition unique to me,” she smiled.

  Frances frowned. “Great… like I need something else to add to my litany of problems.”

  Cynthia laughed. “Well, Alexander has devised a rather accomplished form of therapy to help me deal with it.”

  “Did I hear my name mentioned?” Alexander asked. He led Orchid in, gagged with a shiny black leather plug, and the beautiful leash Sloan had made clipped to her ‘Y’ shaped restrictive chains. Alexander had warned her of the consequences of misbehaving, and her pussy was still swollen and sore from his last punishment with the cane.

  Where the boys’ eyes would be naturally drawn to Orchid, they were now focused on Frances. Sloan had even sidled to the entryway, to catch her if she ran. Instead, she had the most remarkable, unexpected reaction any of them could have anticipated.

  Frances rose, and her mouth dropped slightly open in surprise. She walked over to Orchid, and looked her up and down. Orchid’s eyes followed the girl in shock, instead of the pleading Alexander had anticipated. Frances said, “Marissa?”

  “Oh shit,” Kyle whispered to Daryl.

  “You know her?” Liam asked. The whole family stiffened a bit, waiting to see Liam’s angel’s reaction to her friend’s predic
ament.

  Frances smiled, and she reached out and actually tugged the chain a bit. “Oh, yes, Liam. I know her. Remember that girl I told you about from school? The way she used to taunt me?” Frances looked into the Orchid’s amber eyes. “You remember, don’t you, Marissa? ‘Poor little Fanny with her weird disease. Better not get near her or she’ll suck all of the color out of you like a vampire.’ I thought you left to be some kind of super-model.”

  Cynthia rose and walked behind Frances, putting her hands on the small girl’s shoulders. “I always wondered what it would have been like to add Ava or her daughters to my collection. They were much too hideous to consider it, though. How does it feel, Frances?”

  Frances’ pale eyes looked up at her. “Delicious, Cynthia, absolutely delicious. Like this black oppressive cloud that’s been holding me down for years is just going away. It feels like colors and sunlight.”

  Kyle whispered to his twin, “Like I said, she can stay.”

  Alexander handed Orchid’s leash to his wife and rubbed his hands together. “Well, I guess there’s not much sense in leaving the flowers in their containers. Sloan, have Pansy let them out, but warn her about behaving.”

  “Yes, father,” Sloan answered. Daryl left the room with him.

  “Ethel will certainly appreciate the help with serving dinner,” Cynthia agreed. “And, I guess there isn’t much sense in isolating you to the guest house.” She squeezed Frances’ shoulders.

  “You will show me your gardening technique?” Frances asked.

  “Oh, my dear, there are so many varieties and methods of training. My goal is to produce the most desirable arousing species. I have found the greatest reward results when I bring their seductive petals to the surface. Would you like to see? Orchid is new to her training, but she came to us as such a willing slut, we’re taming her wanton responses to a more acceptable vision. Her natural instincts are to selfishly seek pleasure for herself, instead of presenting her bloom for her Master’s enjoyment.”

  Marissa’s panicked, shaking head convinced Frances. “Yes, Cynthia. I think I’d enjoy seeing what the boys in school found so arousing about her.” Frances walked over to Liam, and sat on his lap. She moved her bottom around on his stiff erection until it nestled between the cheeks of her ass.

  After giving the leash back to her husband, Cynthia’s hand disappeared between Marissa’s thighs. Frances squirmed on Liam’s lap and she watched in wide-eyed fascination. The girl did not try to back away. Of course, Alexander was standing behind her, gripping the leash that led to the painful clamps. It was mere seconds before Marissa’s hips began lightly thrusting into Cynthia’s fingers, and her brown stare glanced at Frances in humiliation. “Focus,” Cynthia hissed quietly, and Marissa quickly stared back into the hateful emerald gaze.

  Even with the painful condition of her caned tissue, Marissa automatically lubricated and her body moved to the climax the witch rarely permitted her to enjoy. She felt her legs begin to quiver, and her eyes pleaded with stepmother to say the words. Just as she rocketed to climax, she heard the whisper, “You do not have permission, Orchid.”

  Orchid whimpered while her nostrils flared, sucking in deep breaths that would have allowed her to gasp if not for the gag… and if not for the painful slap on her tortured folds. The scream was muffled, but the agony in the wail was still more than noticeable. While Marissa shuddered and tried to recover from the debasing performance, Cynthia turned to Frances. “As you can see, she needs much more training to control her slutty impulses.”

  Cynthia held out her hand to Frances and guided her, and Orchid, back to the sofa. The other flowers made appearances, and Frances noted that they were all very pretty. They reminded her of the girls with their full, excited lives that had always excluded her. She was traveling to the concert alone because she had no friend to go with her. There was one little blonde that was slightly plain, but intriguing in her own way. “Who’s that?”

  Cynthia saw where she was pointing. “Marigold, come here.”

  The girl immediately hurried over and knelt in front of the woman, trembling slightly. “Please, stepmother, how may this slave attend you?” she asked quietly.

  Cynthia turned towards her husband. “Alexander, I think Marigold would be a perfect ‘starter’ flower for Frances. She’s so calm and well-behaved.” The kneeling girl looked up at the woman, relieved that she was not being punished. “You are going to stay with us, aren’t you Frances?”

  “That’s up to Liam, Cynthia.”

  Cynthia’s eyes shot to her son. “You have not asked to marry her?”

  “We only met a few days ago, mother,” Liam answered defensively.

  “Your father asked me within the first hour after we met,” Cynthia replied.

  “Actually, Cynthia, I told you we were getting married,” Alexander reminded her.

  Kyle gave his twin a little shove on the shoulder. Liam licked his lips and said, “Frances, I think we should get married.” Kyle pushed him again. “Frances, we’re getting married.”

  Frances smiled as the glass slipper slid onto her foot. “Yes, Liam. But, I do have one condition.”

  Liam felt a rock hit his stomach. “Yes?”

  “I would like my name changed to Calla. Cynthia is right, it suits me.” She turned to Cynthia and said, “Marigold would be a perfect gift, thank you.” Frances looked at the small girl, and she studied the black leather collar and cuffs with the citrine stones. “Do those come with opals?”

  “I’m afraid I used them on Iris,” Cynthia answered. “Diamonds would suit you better, but, as family, you won’t be required to wear them.” She reached out a hand to curl a wispy white strand behind the girl’s ear, and caressed her cheek.

  Frances glanced at Liam, and she blushed. “Yes, I will.”

  Cynthia looked back at the painting over the fireplace, and she took Frances’ hand and studied her wrist again. She thought the girl liked the scene of a woman tied and helpless. It was taking her a moment to figure it out, as she had no desire to be on the receiving end of her erotic pleasures. She had presumed Liam had decided he wanted the girl, after attempting to capture her… and that he realized his mistake and removed the restraints. It was beginning to dawn on her that Frances enjoyed being the one who was bound… though, she seemed more than willing to enjoy Orchid’s situation.

  Frances whispered, “On my ankles, too. And I’m not sure, but I think the handprint on my bottom is so clear you can see his fingerprints,” she giggled.

  Cynthia’s eyes flew around the room, and she quickly glanced at the paintings and artwork that she had memorized. They snapped back to the one over the mantel… the only picture that had two men in it. “That, is your favorite?”

  “It is,” Frances assured her.

  The men were straining to hear their mother’s intense conversation, but it was no use. Suddenly, Cynthia and Frances made a secretive toast. “I thought to myself, after Kyle’s reaction to his twin’s luck in finding you, that the three of you would figure a way to work it out.”

  “I’m sure we will, Cynthia,” Frances smiled. “Do you know, I think Kyle is actually jealous of Liam?”

  “The twins share victories and challenges. You’ll have your hands full,” Cynthia smiled.

  “Hopefully, so will they,” Frances laughed, and she reached out a small hand and stroked Marigold’s head.

  The girl looked up at her hopefully, and she smiled with her eyes. Marigold… aka Suzy Pickerel… decided her life could be much worse in Japan, much worse than living in the castle, and much worse than having this fairy as a Mistress. Oh yes, she had been through much worse. There were abusive foster parents, long depressing hours cleaning the cheap motel… and the time being trained in stepmother’s dungeon garden. Things were looking much brighter.

  Over dinner, Cynthia seated Frances… Calla, she reminded herself… next to her to discuss wedding plans. “Please, nothing big. Just the family, Cynthia. Obviously, there is no ne
ed to invite mine. I’ll just call and let dad know that he can proceed with his own plans to marry Ruth.”

  “What about your belongings?” Cynthia asked.

  “I have a box of things in the closet that I’ll have him forward. Anything else would just make me sad and remind me of the past. I want to start over with you,” Frances replied.

  Cynthia felt another tear at her heart, and she remembered the small suitcase she had packed to leave with Alexander… for the same reasons. They shared so much pain. Cynthia glanced again at the girl’s wrist. Except that. How come her reaction to the past is so different?

  The men noticed the women’s heads tilted together in quiet discussion again. It was strange to see their mother’s acceptance of another woman. Alexander leaned towards his sons and whispered, “She’s lonely. Even with her garden of flowers, your mother never had a girlfriend before,” he smiled. “Liam, I am so proud of your choice.”

  “Thank you, father.” Liam sat straighter, until Kyle kicked him under the table and pulled his arm, trying to get back to the discussion of what sex was like with the fairy.

  Cynthia asked, “What is it like?” She glanced at the bluish bruise.

  Frances’ knew she was almost scarlet. “Liam was obviously my first,” she admitted. “I was so scared, and I had no idea what to do. Things just sort of… happened. And then, it seemed that the more helpless I felt, the more protected I felt by him. The trust that he wouldn’t hurt me… I think it worked both ways. I think he feels more aroused knowing that I trust him, and I definitely enjoy the unexpected little rushes of things.”

  “I’ve never felt a desire for that,” Cynthia told her. “But, the feeling you describe is what I feel when I’m training my flowers.”

  “You were raised in a busier setting. Your family might have made you feel unattractive, but I think you always knew how beautiful you were. Liam… and now your family… are the only people I’ve ever met that have not made me feel like an outcast. I guess I need to feel protected,” Frances suggested.

 

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