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From: bradley_stoke@hushmail.com (Bradley Stoke)
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Subject: {ASSM} Cinderella (Bradley Stoke) (MF caution)
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Date: Wed, 18 Aug 2004 00:10:05 -0400
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Title: {ASSM} Cinderella (Bradley Stoke) (MF caution)
Author: Bradley Stoke
Keywords: MF caution
Short Summary: An erotic retelling of the famous fairy tale.



Story: Cinderella (4,734 words)

Cinderella is so named because of the soot and smut that 
covers her naked flesh, as she labours by the cinders of 
the hearth to serve her ungrateful stepmother and stepsisters. 
But all is set to change as the King seeks a special girl 
throughout his realm who has given him great pleasure in 
the Royal Orgies. 


For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
   
        

Cinderella
==========


When her stepmother entered through the cottage door 
bearing the news, Cinderella was sitting exactly where she 
always did. And that was in front of the blazing log fire, 
the ash and cinders dappling her deathly pale skin; naked 
as always, as clothes were a vanity wasted on one who 
never ventured beyond the kitchen hearth, the stack of logs 
and the coal scuttle. Cinderella's stepsisters, for whom no 
luxury was too great and no expense too excessive, were 
slumped in their armchairs: a red leather one for Ursula 
and a green one for Ermintrude. There was also a rocking 
chair for their mother, but Cinderella had only bare stone 
on which to rest her naked buttocks.

 "You'll never believe what I've heard!" Cinderella's 
stepmother announced. A broad smile spread over her 
podgy face, as she set a pannier of provisions on the 
kitchen table, the contents of which it was expected that 
Cinderella would assemble into a meal for the three other 
women. Only the uneaten scraps would be left to her. "It's 
the King. His Royal Majesty. He is hunting through the 
whole of his kingdom for a girl, a single girl, with whom 
he has fallen in love and whom he wishes to take as his 
concubine."

"So?" sniffed Ursula, who was tall and thin, with a nose 
long and aquiline, and a permanent sneer on her thin upper 
lip.

"Why should we care about the King?" echoed Ermintrude, 
an altogether plumper girl than her sister, resembling much 
more her mother.

"My daughters! My daughters!" exclaimed Cinderella's 
stepmother. "Have I not cared for you from the time of 
your birth? Lavished you with every groat bestowed me by 
your late father? Ensured that you have never been in want 
of a dainty shoe or an ermine cloak? Now, it is time for 
you to repay your mother who loves you so dearly. Would 
it not be a deserving reward for your mother for one of my 
beautiful daughters to be a doxy for His Majesty?"

"Concubine? The King's whore!" Ursula sniffed.

"You cannot be serious, mother!" agreed Ermintrude.

"Are you not beautiful women, my daughters?"

The two girls nodded, while Cinderella gazed at them, her 
hand holding a turnip and the other the knife with which 
she was peeling the turnip. Indeed, they were two very 
attractive women, made the more so by the bounty of daily 
bathing, exotic perfume and luxurious dress. Ursula had a 
cruel face, but her neck was arched and curved like a swan. 
Her slender body, with its slight bosom, was elegant and 
handsome, and attracted many admirers. Those admirers, 
that is, not more taken by Ermintrude's more voluptuous 
beauty: a buxom woman with a luxury of curves and a 
wealth of overflowing white flesh. Cinderella's own 
beauty, which she had in great abundance, was hidden by 
the smudges and smut of her daily kitchen chores. Her 
thinness, unlike that of Ursula's, was one determined more 
by an impoverished rather than a fastidious diet.

"How can we become the King's courtesans, mother?" 
Ursula asked. 

"Not both of you. Just the one. The King has proclaimed 
that he is seeking one girl, a special girl, with whom he has 
fallen in love. But he knows not who this girl may be. All 
he knows is that when he fucked her, he discovered a 
special bond with her. That in his amorous thrusts, he 
experienced more pleasure from a woman's cunt than he 
had ever done before."

"More even than that from his wife, the Queen?" wondered 
Ermintrude.

"Much more. More even than his late queen, brought down 
by plague. But kings never marry queens for the sexual 
pleasure they bring them, my dear daughters, but for 
reasons of state and the need to bear children of noble 
blood. And for this reason, the king has many whores, 
many courtesans, many mistresses and a Royal Concubine, 
who is almost like the Queen in wealth and luxury, but 
excused the obligations of regal duty or the necessity of 
constant childbirth. The King knows not who is this girl 
whose fucking was so memorable, but so besotted is he 
that he hunts her down, across the entire kingdom, in the 
home of every person of property and estate. Each girl he 
finds who says that she is the one, he fucks to know for 
sure whether it is indeed she who had given him so much 
pleasure."

"All he knows of her is how she fucks? Not of her looks? 
Not her name, her lineage or her reputation?" Ursula asked, 
aghast. "How can the King be so ignorant? How can he 
fuck someone so unforgettably and know so little?"

"It was at one of the King's Royal Orgies, my dearest," 
Cinderella's stepmother continued. "The flickering candle-
light is not bright enough to distinguish one wench from 
another. All the girls wear a mask over the face, although 
the rest of the body be bare. And it was at this Royal Orgy, 
just one month ago, on the very day that we all went to 
darling Goneril's debutante ball, that the King fucked this 
mysterious girl."

"So, if she was such a good fuck, why didn't the King learn 
her identity there and then, mother?" Ermintrude asked.

"Apparently, just after the King had given his all, 
bestowing more sperm on this wench than he had ever 
before been capable, she vanished as suddenly as she 
arrived, leaving the King with only a memory of the best 
fuck of his life. A fuck so spectacular and wonderful that 
he pines like a young boy, hoping only that he may fuck 
like that once again. And now, although his mistresses and 
odalisques and the royal retinue of whores assail him 
constantly, massaging the royal penis, applying lips of both 
the mouth and vulva to its majesty, and however well and 
often he fucks, all pales to him in comparison to the fuck 
he has known. And?"

Cinderella's stepmother stopped, picked up a wooden 
spoon that lay on the table and flung it angrily at her 
stepdaughter, glancing off her forehead. Cinderella yelped 
and lowered her head.

"I saw you smirk, you whore!" the woman exclaimed. 
"Why did you smirk, you fucker of pigs and scum?"

Cinderella kept her head low, too accustomed to her 
stepmother's anger to contradict her. "I'm sorry, mistress. I 
didn't mean to?"

"You liar! You filthy sow! Your expression intimated you 
knew only too well what it is to fuck a man. And what man 
would fuck you, a filthy slut? You are fit only for the 
savage thrusts of swine and asses. I am tired now, but when 
I have recovered my energy, I shall apply my switch to 
your buttocks with vigour." 

The stepmother waddled over to Cinderella, spat full in her 
face and waddled back to her rocking chair. She sat down 
in it, and rocked back and forth.

"And so, my darling daughters, Ursula and Ermintrude, 
fruit of my womb and the reward of my own virtuous 
efforts, you shall inform the King's servants that you were 
both at the King's orgies and that you had sex with him on 
that night. And that you are, indeed, the one he seeks with 
such passion."

"But how will he be convinced of this, mother?" wondered 
Ursula.

"Both you and darling Ermintrude shall practice in the art 
of fucking, under my expert tutelage, so that when the King 
comes and fucks you, he will be so won over by your 
amorous skills that he will assert that you are the one. And 
if not you, Ursula, then you, Ermintrude."

"But, mother?" exclaimed Ermintrude. "As you desired, 
we have kept our maidenhead intact these many years in 
pursuit of the perfect husband."

"Your maidenheads may be intact, but your mouths and 
your arses have savoured many a youth's throbbing 
member, my daughters. I am not a fool, you know. But 
now, a more rich and bounteous prize may be ours, and so 
virtue must be superseded by energetic training."

"And when does this new regime begin?" queried a clearly 
excited Ermintrude, a hot red flush across her pale, plump 
cheeks.

"Why! This very evening. After we have dined. But first, 
my daughters," she continued, standing up and taking a 
long cane from where it was supported by nails to the 
cottage wall, just beneath a portrait of her deceased 
husband, "I must administer punishment on my smirking 
stepdaughter. Will you care to assist me?"

Cinderella knew that in addition to the pains of preparing 
food and being admonished for all manner of shortcomings 
in its preparation and quality, she would also have to bear 
the stinging pain of red marks across her buttocks, bruises 
over her face and, perhaps again, a raw blue swelling above 
her eyes. And in all the suffering she was to endure, she 
would needs be heedful not to weep or cry in pain, so as 
not to further antagonise the three women who, besides 
being her wards, were also her torturers and tormentors.

This was not how the women were considered by the 
yeomen and apprentices of Cinderella's village. Rather, her 
two stepsisters were known as amiable wenches, who 
though desirous of maintaining their virtue, did not stint at 
welcoming men in their embraces. And her stepmother had 
a reputation as a woman who despite her advancing years 
was well-practiced and skilled at the art of lovemaking, 
and was a worthy fuck for any man, whatever his age. And 
now, when it was announced that the two stepsisters had 
abandoned the imperative to secure their virtue and would 
welcome any man's member between their open thighs, the 
better endowed the more welcome, their good repute 
within the village soared and the men of the diocese were 
queuing at the cottage door for a taste of the two 
stepsisters' fleshly bounty. The women of the village, the 
affianced and espoused, did not care to express an opinion. 
And if they did, it would be ignored by their menfolk. 

As Cinderella witnessed, nursing her bruises by the blazing 
fire, a dark swelling over one eye where Ursula had struck 
her with her fist, and her arse still tender from the vigorous 
lashings of her stepmother's switch, the first business that 
needed to be disposed of was the troubling matter of the 
two stepsisters' virtue which their mother was determined 
should not be sold too cheaply. The lord of the manor, 
Squire Lichenstone, was willing to pay handsomely in gold 
for the privilege of fucking the two at the same time and 
taking their maidenheads from them. He was also willing 
to take what he believed was their anal virginity, for which 
he paid an even more handsome sum not knowing that 
every fellow in the diocese, except the village idiot, had 
already had the acquaintance and pleasure of preceding 
him.

Now, this duty complete, the two stepsisters could pursue 
their regime in earnest, under the watchful eye of their 
mother, who had already tasted every man, and was happy 
to taste them again, while Cinderella was obliged to attend 
to the men's needs should their penises be too feeble to 
enter the vagina of either Ursula or Ermintrude. But the 
stepmother ensured that this tuition, necessary as it was to 
convince the king that one or the other girl was the one he 
sought, also turned in a handsome profit, by tempting in 
each man she could with promises of inexpensive lust-
requiting and finding ingenious ways to increase the cost of 
provision. This inevitably entailed an additional cost for 
the unlucky apprentice or farmer who needed extra coaxing 
from Cinderella's tongue and mouth, for which the young 
girl received not a penny from the recompense demanded 
by her stepmother. 

It did not escape the two sisters' notice that their stepsister 
was an eager and accomplished fellater, but all this earned 
Cinderella were more blows, although she was allowed the 
privilege of licking clean the semen from the girls' vaginas, 
it being undesirable that they become pregnant. Her long 
tongue and the skill by which she applied it were 
invaluable in cleansing them, along with the hot water and 
sponge also used in this essential duty.

As Cinderella sat by the hearth, perhaps peeling swedes or 
chopping up parsnips, the two sisters were demonstrably 
their mother's daughters, frantic and vocal in their love-
making, as man after man plied assiduously at their cunts, 
sometimes the two of them entertaining the same man, or 
several men paying for the opportunity to share a fuck with 
their fellows, taking the penises, large, fat, slim or slightly 
curved, one after the other, arse or cunt, although the 
mouth was now only applied by Cinderella whom it was 
judged was better able to cope with the rich taste and 
flavour of penises that she coaxed towards their full 
stiffness. And for an extra few groats, the men could 
relieve themselves on Cinderella, but only in the courtyard, 
so that their piss would fall on her face, on her knotted 
blonde hair and on the sunbaked soil.

However, news soon came that the King's entourage was 
proceeding towards the borough, visiting every wench in 
the kingdom who claimed that it was she whom the King 
had fucked on that fateful night. So many women 
throughout the kingdom lay claim to the privilege of 
having been fucked by him that fateful night that were it 
so, he was the most virile man in all Christendom. His 
progress had been necessarily slow, unable to fuck more 
than a half dozen damsels a day, and sometimes fewer, 
especially on the Sabbath where whole hours of his day 
were dedicated to his duties as God's representative to his 
flock.

But at last he was in the diocese, a portly man of middle 
age and middle height, with a full red beard and a huge 
retinue of ministers, servants, whores, entertainers, 
courtiers, knights, sycophants, advisers, and a diminutive 
jester whose japes were as crude as his nose was red and 
his groin a mass of genital warts. The king rode into the 
village, looking from side to side at the hovels, cottages 
and mansions, the dirt-tracked roads full not only of the 
usual swine, asses, fowl and oxen, but also of his cheering 
vassals, bidding that he live forever and bless the village 
with his grace. Although popular with the peasantry, 
merchants and yeomen, he was less gladly received in 
truth, although much welcomed in appearances, by the 
squire and his family who would be in debt for many years 
to come to pay for the feasting, whoring and entertaining of 
his majesty and his court.

"The next on the list, your Royal Majesty," announced the 
King's first minister, a tall and elderly man with a wart on 
his hooked nose and but one tooth left in his gummy 
mouth, "is the household of Mrs. Abundant, a widow of 
many years, who maintains still the estate of her late 
husband,"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the king, spitting on the soil. "I know 
for sure that the wench I seek is of tender years. This 
widow is but a fraud."

"It is not the widow, your Royal Majesty. It is her two 
daughters. Both claim that they were fucked by you on that 
portentous night and are convinced that it was one of them 
who gave you so much pleasure."

"This is so? Two wenches! But it was but one I fucked at 
the time."

"'Tis true that only one may be the one you seek, but both 
claim that they were fucked by you and will let you decide 
if that be true."

"Well! Let us to their bosom. It is several days now since I 
enjoyed the pleasure of two wenches at the same time."

Cinderella's stepmother's cottage was a large one for the 
diocese and sufficient to house a much larger family than 
just a mother, her two daughters and a stepdaughter. But 
only a mansion could accommodate the king and his 
company, and even then only his ministers and most senior 
knights could enjoy the hospitality of a squire's 
bedchamber or, if they were of senior enough station, the 
pleasures of the squire's wives and daughters. So it was 
necessary for Cinderella's stepsisters to agree to the King 
fucking them in the courtyard outside the cottage, in full 
view of the whole village. 

Even Cinderella was allowed the privilege of witnessing 
the King have intimate knowledge of the two sisters, for 
which she was allowed to bathe for the first time in many 
months, revealing a pale freckled skin beneath the smut 
and soot that had mostly caked her flesh. The tangled knots 
of hair were tugged apart and her pretty face could at last 
be seen without hindrance. As she sat cross-legged by the 
swine and poultry in Mrs Abundant's yard, denied, of 
course, any proximity to decent folk, she excited comment 
amongst the men of the village, even those whose penis 
she had engorged with her mouth or those who had paid a 
few extra pennies to piss on her face. Cinderella was 
indeed a more attractive girl than any had known her to be. 
More beautiful indeed than her stepsisters, who, 
nevertheless, would never acknowledge this even had they 
the discernment to see that this was so. And this beauty 
was evident even though she was naked and wretchedly 
thin,

Ursula and Ermintrude disrobed in front of the king and the 
courtiers, so now there were three unclothed women in the 
yard, including Cinderella. But it was the two stepsisters 
who lay down on their buttocks on the grass, their legs 
open wide, as one after the other, the king fucked the two 
of them: one moment thrusting between Ursula's slender 
thighs and then squeezing his way between Ermintrude's 
fuller and fleshier ones. The courtiers and ministers looked 
on disinterestedly, having often seen their king fuck 
maidens of all shapes, sizes and age, familiar with his 
snorting, grunting efforts, his hairy flaccid buttocks 
thrusting back and forth, his knees resting on the woollen 
rugs laid on the ground beneath him and the woman into 
which he was thrusting.

Ursula and Ermintrude gave the best they could, tutored 
well in the expression of sexual ecstasy, their cries of 
passion echoing throughout the village, as loud as the 
church bells peal, startling the grazing mule, frightening 
the squawking pheasants and scattering flocks of 
dunnocks. However, it was soon clear that the king was not 
convinced. He let loose his sperm perfunctorily first in 
Ursula and then a few remaining drops over Ermintrude's 
face. He slumped in the regal throne that was carried with 
great effort by three servants of his chamber.

He beckoned forward Cinderella's stepmother who 
approached warily, perhaps fearful that a disappointed 
monarch might mete punishment rather than rewards on his 
subjects.

"Neither wench is the one, madam," he said, brushing his 
nose with the back of his hand, his semen-coated penis 
limp on the velvet seat of his throne. "But they have 
performed well and so shall be rewarded."

"Thank you, your Royal Majesty. My daughters were so 
sure that it was they who?"

"Yes. Yes," impatiently remarked the king, who had heard 
such excuses before. He cast his eyes around the company, 
and spotted, for the first time, Cinderella, crouched naked 
by a huge hog. He furrowed his brow.

"Hold! Who is this damsel?" he asked, pointing a regal 
finger in her direction. "She is most radiant. Was it she 
who gave me pleasure on that day?"

"That is my stepdaughter, your Royal Majesty," remarked 
Mrs Abundant. "It is most unlikely that she would have 
availed herself of you. She is just a slut, worthy only of 
being pissed on."

"I'm not sure. There is something about her. Shall we ask 
her?"

"Of course, your Royal Majesty," Cinderella's stepmother 
agreed. She hastened over to her stepdaughter, grabbed her 
by her arm and dragged her over to the King. She pushed 
her rudely to the ground at his feet, where she bowed 
down.

Cinderella trembled under his eyes, her arms spread ahead 
of her, and gazed up towards the King of the Realm.

"So, little wench, was it you who I fucked on that night?" 
asked the King with an amused smile, perhaps expecting a 
meek denial.

"I cannot lie, your Royal Majesty," Cinderella said. "It was 
I."

"You fucking liar!" exclaimed her stepmother, kicking her 
ward's bare back as she lay on the ground.

"Can you be sure, wench?" asked the king.

"I am, your Royal Majesty."

"And how could that be?"

"On the day you mention, your Royal Majesty, my Fairy 
Godmother came to visit me, waved her magic wand and 
spirited me to the Royal Orgy. I arrived in a coach and 
four, where I was received in great splendour. And it was 
there, your Royal Majesty, that you fucked me. But I had to 
hasten away before midnight because the spell would last 
only to that moment. But I got away before those accursed 
bells tolled and settled back in front of my hearth to do 
duty for my two stepsisters." 

The court, the village and, most of all, Cinderella's 
stepmother and stepdaughters listened with disbelief and 
merriment to her account. And when they finished they 
broke into great laughter. 

"You slut! You fucking lying whore!" exclaimed the 
stepmother. "I shall beat you within an inch of your life for 
your lies."

"And I shall force you not only to drink my piss, but to eat 
my shit!" agreed Ursula.

"And then you will needs apply your tongue to all our 
cunts to ask our forgiveness, you sow's cunt!" Ermintrude 
added.

"Hold, ladies!" the King commanded. "There may be truth 
in this wench's remarks. It is certainly worth investigating. 
I wish to fuck this maiden. And I wish to fuck her now."

And the truth of his assertion was there to see in the erect 
penis beneath his overhanging belly and proud against the 
velvet of his throne.

"I beseech you, your Royal Majesty," said an evidently 
worried stepmother. "Cinderella is just a slut of the lowest 
order. Her cunt has only been visited by swine and ass, her 
face only fit for pissing on and her flesh meet only for the 
caresses of fists and whips."

"My mind is made up!" the king announced. 

He stood up in front of the prostrate Cinderella, offered her 
an open palm and lifted her to her feet.

"Now, dear wench, we shall proceed to the royal rugs 
where I shall fuck you and we shall discover whether it 
was indeed you who I fucked on that day."

"Gladly, your Royal Majesty," replied Cinderella, who at 
this moment looked more happy and radiant than any man 
or woman in the village had ever seen her before.

It was to the horror of Cinderella's stepfamily, the disbelief 
of the King's court and the incredulity of the village that 
the fucking when it commenced between the King and this 
previously little regarded wench was quite clearly of a 
nature never before witnessed in the realm. The intensity of 
the passion, the ecstasy apparent in Cinderella's many 
orgasms, the tirelessness of the King's thrusts: these were 
all of an order that none had believed possible. The court 
was speechless, for once not chattering and smirking as the 
King's arse commenced its habitual thrusting. The penises 
of the village men pressed hard against the fabric of their 
tunics, whilst the women felt a moistness between their 
legs engendered from witnessing such unbridled lust they 
were eager to requite as soon as they could. And 
Cinderella's stepsisters became more miserable than they 
had ever been before.

But most discomfited of all was Cinderella's stepmother, 
whose face expressed utter dismay. She sat on the ground 
between her stepsisters, still disrobed after their recent 
fucking, angry tears squeezing from her eyes and trickling 
over her pudgy cheeks.

There could have been no wandering traveller or labouring 
peasant within many leagues who did not hear Cinderella's 
coital cries of ecstasy and the almost as loud cries of joy 
from their regal ruler, not ashamed to give vent to many 
profanities in the declaration of his pleasure. The deer in 
the forest were startled and stood still, their ears twitching 
in wonder. The wolves and bears were themselves too 
stunned to take advantage of their prey's inertia. 

And for so long, for hours of thrusting, the King's balls 
replenished so soon that after releasing his semen deep 
within Cinderella's cunt, then up again the King's member 
did rise, ready again for more thrusts within the moist 
welcome caresses of the serving wench's hole. And 
Cinderella's legs clasped around the King's thighs and 
buttocks so tightly that an ox would be needed to part the 
pair from their amorous coupling.

At last, with the sun dipping in the sky, the bodies of the 
King and Cinderella parted and the two lay on their backs, 
panting with their exertion, faces to the sky, while the 
whole village and the King's court burst into a spontaneous 
applause. No one had ever seen conjugal trysting of such a 
degree before.

"In God's truth, you are the one!" the King told Cinderella.

And then to the court, the village and the realm, the King 
announced. "I have found the one who shall now be my 
Principal Concubine. She will take the crown as Royal 
Courtesan and the wench who currently has that honour 
will become once again the mere whore she once was."

"But your Royal Majesty," wondered the King's chancellor, 
standing by his side with a cloak to cover the regal flesh. 
"How can you be so sure?"

"It is the wench's tale of a Fairy Godmother. Only one of 
regal blood and pure inheritance is honoured with a Fairy 
Godmother. It is one of the lesser known privileges of my 
station." 

The King addressed Cinderella, who was now on her 
knees, her long blonde hair plastered to her hot sweaty 
body. "Tell me, sweet damsel, did this Fairy Godmother 
have blue hair and green eyes?"

"She did, your Royal Majesty. And she was most pleasing 
plump as well!"

"By Jove! She is the same Fairy Godmother as that 
bestowed on me!"

The King strode towards Cinderella's stepmother who knelt 
between her daughters, looking most humble and 
miserable.

"Madam! You have some explaining to do."

The stepmother nodded. She gazed up at the King. 

"Cinderella is your daughter, your Royal Majesty."

"My daughter?"

"Your bastard daughter. Not the legitimate daughter of 
your Queens' labour. She was the result of a trysting 
between your Royal Majesty and the first wife of my late 
husband, may his soul rest in peace."

"My bastard daughter? And where is the woman who is the 
mother of this child?"

"She died in childbirth. Only your daughter survived, 
brought up but much despised by my late husband who 
blamed her for the death of his first wife."

"So, Cinderella is my daughter. This is good news. It is 
known that the most passionate love a monarch can have is 
with similarly royal blood. Indeed, the smaller the degree 
of consanguinity the more passionate the coupling."

And from this moment, the life of Cinderella was indeed 
such that she lived happily ever after. In fact, she happily 
enjoyed many more passionate couplings with the King 
and endowed him with many bastard children, more even 
than his legitimate offspring, and predeceased the King, 
her father and lover, by several years, the victim herself of 
a tragic childbirth, the issue of which was the Black Prince 
who in later years caused so much grief to the realm. 

But that is another tale.

All lived happily ever after, that is, except for Cinderella's 
stepfamily. On learning of the extent of his daughter's 
misery over the years, as later confessed in the connubial 
bed, the King ordained that her stepmother should be 
clapped in irons and spend the rest of her years chained to a 
hog sty. And her two stepsisters were sold as whores to 
Pagan merchants where they would end their days in 
sodomy and suffering.

And for many generations, the people of Cinderella's 
village would recount and many a wandering troubadour 
sing of the tale of the King's coupling with sweet 
Cinderella.




For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www

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