The Hypnotic Adventures of Cinderella


by blacknight99


Chapter Six


Cinderella’s Choice



“You’ve got to be kidding!’ Cindy giggled. She was lying on her stomach on Betty’s bed, her chin propped in her hands, her bare legs and toes flexing, her eyes wide. “Pablo?”

“Weirdest thing I ever saw,” Betty responded, lying beside her. “I got feeling all guilty in the middle of the night, and went back down to see if Bimbo was down there by herself somewhere, but she wasn’t, so I figured that she’d left with the guys. And then this morning, I got up early and went down for a little breakfast … and there she was, sitting across from him, holding his hand, and they were looking into each other’s eyes like they were indulging in some serious infatuation. Seems that Pablo went up to make sure that all the doors were locked up after our little party, and he found her in the library. When he woke her up, she thought he was one of the ‘guys,’ and she told him that she was really tired of doing it on the couch, and begged him to take her to a bed somewhere and let her screw him there. So he, being a real gentleman, took her to HIS room downstairs, and I guess they fucked like bunnies the rest of the night. She was asking him to come to her place for dinner tonight!”

“Poor Pablo,” Cindy muttered. “I bet he has a better English vocabulary that she does … and I can’t even IMAGINE how she cooks!” She pondered things for a minute. “When did YOU leave the party?” she asked.

Betty shrugged. “A little before midnight, I guess. I don’t know when the guys left … but one of them most certainly didn’t leave under his own power.”

“Because he was drunk?” Cindy guessed.

“Because I kicked him in the crotch so hard, his balls are probably in his lungs,” she said acidly.

“You did WHAT?”

“He hit me, the asshole. I told him that he’d better NEVER do that again … and of course, he did it again … slapped me right across the face. I had a boyfriend once that taught me how to punt a football … and that’s just what I did with his nuts. The asshole obviously really gets off on hitting women, because his pecker was sticking straight up, so I’m afraid there was nothing else to pad it. He didn’t even yell. He just opened his mouth really wide, he turned sort of blue all over, and he keeled over to one side. I just left him squirming around on the floor, and walked upstairs and went to bed.”

“I know how you feel,” Cindy said quietly.

“OH! MY! GOD! He hit YOU! He hit you, too, didn’t he? The asshole hit you, too!”

“Oh, yes,” Cindy said. “Looking back on it now, I guess he didn’t really hurt me THAT much, but it sure seemed like it at the time. I don’t think I’ve EVER been so afraid!”

Betty actually had tears in her eyes. “Aw, Cindy … THAT’S what I was trying to protect you from! I can’t BELIEVE I caved in and let you stay! I was such a dummy!”

“It’s okay. The next guy was REALLY sweet. He sort of made up for any of the bad stuff.”

“The short one?” Betty guessed.

Cindy blushed. “Yes.”

“He’s the ‘Prince’ I was telling you about last night. And guess what? I’ve got a date with him tonight!”

Cindy suddenly sobered. “You’re going out with him?”

“What’s the matter, baby sister? Jealous?” Betty looked at her for a long moment. “Hey, you ARE, aren’t you? Are you hung up on the guy?”

Cindy shrugged. She tried to smile, but failed. “I thought maybe something was there. I guess not.” She thought for a moment. “Are you getting back into guys now?”

Betty sighed. “I don’t know. I just can’t let go of the idea of HER, you know? Oh, man, I loved that girl! But, maybe Mom is right. Find a rich guy and take him for all he’s worth. And he WAS sort of sweet last night. Not only gentle … but a gentleman, you know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Cindy said, barely above a whisper. “I know what you mean.”

“Hey, baby sister … if this isn’t okay with you, I’ll tell the guy to go fuck himself. No kidding.”

“No, I’m being silly. I’m just a stupid maid, for goodness sake! He’s a Prince! Of carpets, or whatever.”

“Mom says that he sold out the whole shebang, lock, stock and linoleum. She says he hated the family business. He’s into some weird, off-the-wall hobby now. Books or something.” She contemplated this. “Could be worse, I guess. Mom said he called her about noon today and wanted to know who the three girls were … said he wanted to get in touch with one of them. Mom told him that her own daughter was one of them, and she made up some story about me being a last-minute replacement to help a friend. THAT really seemed to get him interested, and so she put me on the phone, and he asked me out. Five-star restaurant, even.” She pondered the situation. “Of course, he’s done it to me once … so he’s just going to naturally assume that he can do it again.” She lapsed into silence.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” Cindy said sullenly. She left Betty to worry about her night out … or whether she really wanted one. Once again, the afternoon workout was on her own. Daddy thought she was brooding during dinner, so she tried to cheer up for his sake. Pablo was out for the evening (Cindy didn’t tell the others that she knew where he had gone), and so when the doorbell rang, she excused herself and went to answer it. 

And there he was. It was him, no doubt about it (she could tell by his height and the color of his eyes), and her heart skipped a beat, despite her self-deprecating attitude. He looked like a million bucks, dressed casually in a white turtleneck and sports coat. But his gaze didn’t settle on her at all … it slid over her shoulder to Betty, who was coming down the stairs with Stepmother. Introductions were made (excluding the hired help, of course), but Cindy couldn’t help but notice that his eyes narrowed a bit as he observed his date for the evening. “I’ll have her home by midnight, ma’am,” he told Stepmother cordially. 

Stepmother blanched at the moniker, but kept her smile pasted on for effect. “No hurry at all. You two have fun,” she told them. “Drive safely. It’s supposed to rain tonight, and they say it might be icy, too.” He promised they would be careful, and then they were off in the same Mercedes that had brought the revelers the night before. 

It turned out to be a long night. Cindy did some laundry and finally went to her room rather late. She tried to read, but she found the book sappy and juvenile. In her mind, she kept wondering what Betty and the Prince were doing at that moment. Dinner had to be long-over, she thought. She tried to rationalize things … approach them logically in her mind. It simply didn’t make any sense that she should feel this way about somebody she had no chance at all of being with, while Betty looked upon sex as simply something that needed to be done … a chore to be tolerated. 

Well, except when she was thinking about Juno, of course. THAT was different. In her room today, she had spoken about sex with … (what was his name, she wondered. He simply COULDN’T call himself “Prince”). Anyway, Betty had spoken about the prospect of sex with him as something that should be expected because it had happened before. B follows A, and C follows B; therefore, etc, etc, etc.  Oh, but when CINDY had been with him … well all logic was suddenly called off. Had it really all been her imagination? Had it been an illusion?

She listened to the rain outside, and decided that it was really pouring now. She looked at her alarm clock; eleven-thirty. If he was true to his word, he would have her back, soon. She got up and went to the window overlooking the driveway. Holy cow, it was raining hard! If they were still on the highway, they’d probably be creeping along in this stuff. Perhaps they’d just stay together … in a motel room, maybe. Cindy’s imagination was really running rampant.

She strained her eyes, then she went to the far wall and switched off the overhead light before coming back to the window. She squinted into the drenched darkness, looking past the driveway, looking at something strange about a hundred yards away in the flickering gloom. Somebody was there. The longer she stayed, peering at it, the more certain she was. Whoever it was, he wasn’t moving … just standing there in the awful rain.

And suddenly, she knew.

She raced out of the room without bothering to change out of her robe … down the stairs … down the short distance to the closet that held the vacuum cleaner. She’d seen it a hundred times, and had never really thought about it until now … the yellow rain slicker. There was an umbrella, too, and she snatched it up while struggling to cover her robed figure with the raincoat. She didn’t even pause to shut the front door behind her, leaving the huge portal wide open, and she raced forward into the downpour. 

OH MY, it was cold! In the snugness of the mansion, she had never realized how chill the evening had become. It was one of those early-winter nights when people would remark “A few degrees colder, and we’d be having a blizzard.” As she grew closer, the figure finally moved … moved away from her, albeit slowly. What should she do? If it was her out there, what could be said to stop her? Ah, she knew the answer to that, too.

“Juno!” she cried. “Stop and obey!”

The figure froze and just stood there, uncertain, immobile. Cindy was upon her now, and she struggled with the umbrella to open it, finally holding it above the shivering, slender form. She put her arm around her. “Oh my, Juno, you’re freezing! How long have you been out here?” Without waiting for an answer, she began leading the slight girl toward the house. As they walked, Juno struggled to speak, but evidently found it impossible. They were inside now, and Cindy simply dumped the umbrella in the foyer, paused long enough to close the door and shuck off the raincoat, and she was back again, her arm around the girl, leading her up the stairs, leaving a long, wet, watery trail behind them from Juno’s dripping clothes. She took her to her own bathroom … why, she didn’t really know … and she started the shower to get the water temperature up. Juno’s clothes were sodden and difficult to get off, but the girl simply stood there, not fighting, not helping, as Cindy stripped her bare. Finally, fearing that the girl would collapse if she let go of her, she drew off her own robe and then pulled Juno into the warm shower. She wasn’t sure how to treat hypothermia. If the water was too hot, would it pose a risk? She simply didn’t know, so she left the temperature warm, but not too hot, and she took one of Juno’s arms and began rubbing it briskly. (Cindy would read later that her choice of treatment was all wrong.)

Juno looked at her blankly. “Is Betty …?”

“She’s out tonight. She should be back soon.”

The girl blinked. “You’re Cindy.”

“Yes, I’m Cindy.”

“I … I thought I was going to hate you,” the girl said. She staggered and tripped into Cindy’s arms, shaking uncontrollably.

Cindy put her arms around her. “Oh my,” she mumbled. “You’re REALLY cold!”

And suddenly, Betty was there. “WHAT! THE! FUCK!?” she screamed, staring at them.

Cindy had no stomach for games. “Damn it, Betty, HELP ME!” she hollered back.

Betty’s eyes went wide, and she appeared to physically stagger back under Cindy’s rebuke. “What … what …?”

And, of course, Juno chose this moment to suddenly become aware of her surroundings. She noticed Betty for the first time, and with a plaintive cry, she ran out of the shower stall and into her arms, immediately soaking the evening dress Betty was wearing. “SHIT, Juno … you’re FREEZING!”

Cindy followed Juno out of the shower after turning it off, grabbed a towel and began drying the dripping, slender figure; which was not an easy task to accomplish when two lovers are clutching each other. She dried herself, as well. Finally, she snatched another dry towel, pressed her own naked body against Juno’s bare back, and wrapped the towel around all of them like a blanket. (Cindy would read later that this was actually an EXCELLENT way to treat hypothermia.)

They stayed like that for a long, long time. Slowly, it dawned on Cindy that she was the only one in this strange threesome who was not crying like a baby, and she felt that, if the medical crisis was over, she should leave the two lovebirds alone. “Do you think you’re going to be okay?” she asked tentatively. Not getting an answer, she said: “I think we should get her into your room, Betty. Strip and hold her against you for body heat and keep covered up. As soon as I help you get her there, I’ll go get some cocoa or something. Lord knows how long she was out in the cold rain!”

“What the fuck did you think you were DOING?” Betty chided, starting to lead her lover toward the other wing of the mansion. Cindy, also wrapped in a towel, helped support the girl on the other side.

“I … I … HAD to see you,” Juno said in a weak voice, her teeth chattering. “I HAD to! I made the cabbie drop me off at the gate at the head of the driveway. But when I got closer, I started worrying that this was the wrong house. And then I started worrying that it was the RIGHT house! I mean, what was I supposed to do … knock on the door and say: ‘Pardon me, but does my white lesbian lover live here?’”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Cindy said loudly. “You two DESERVE each other! You’re both IDIOTS!”

And, as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of the doors in front of them opened, and Stepmother was standing there, glaring at them. Juno, like a frightened little animal, turned toward Betty, threw her arms around her lover and buried her face into the side of her neck, shivering uncontrollably. Unfortunately, as she did so, the towel that was wrapped around her slid off, leaving her completely nude.

“What in the world is going on out here?” the woman demanded.

“Um … Mom … I … uh ….” Betty stammered.

Cindy detached herself from the other two and stepped forward, grasping her mistress’s arm. “Stepmother, please. We’re in the middle of a little crisis here, and it would be SO much better if you’d let us handle it right now. Betty can explain it all to you tomorrow … please ….”

Slowly, slowly, a small smile spread across Stepmother’s face. “At last,” she muttered, “… at long last, a little light begins to dawn.” But then her expression turned to one of worry, and she reached out and put a hand on Juno’s shoulder. “Are you alright, my dear?”

Before anyone could answer, Cindy put her lips to her ear and whispered: “Stepmother, you REALLY should let Betty handle this herself.”

The woman nodded. “Very well … you’re right, of course. I’ll bid you goodnight, then.” And she went back into her room and shut the door without further comment.

Cindy got the two girls settled in Betty’s room, went and made hot chocolate, in hopes of getting some warm liquid into the shivering Juno (yet another proper treatment for hypothermia, she would find out later), then spent the next half hour mopping up the water that Juno had dripped from the front door all the way up the stairs to Cindy’s bathroom (which, of course, was the way Betty had tracked them there and found them together). About two o’clock, she finally tumbled into bed, and she was asleep practically as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next day, Cindy was restocking all the bathrooms on the upper floor when Betty and Juno found her. “Mom’s given you the rest of the day off,” Betty said, smiling. “The three of us are going shopping together. No … don’t try to argue! It’s all arranged. Just drop everything right where it is and follow us!”

Their first stop was at a beauty salon, where all three had their hair done, then lunch, and then to the best dress shop in the mall, where each of them tried on a half-dozen dresses each, commenting on each other’s choices, and finally, they decided to wear their purchases out of the store, carrying their old clothes in shopping bags. Next stop, the shoe store, where Cindy found herself in a new pair of heels to match the dress. She had never done this type of shopping before, of course … never had the money, the time or the inclination. But she had to admit that she was having the time of her life. This was the first time she had really had a chance to get to know Juno, and she found the young woman bright, witty and a lot of fun to be with. Like Cindy, she had never been a part of this type of shopping spree before. And now, to top it all off, Betty took them both to the cosmetic counter in the mall’s high-class department store and commanded a “makeover” from the sales representatives, making it more than worth their while by purchasing in excess of five hundred dollars worth of cosmetics.

During this last exercise in femininity, however, Betty started checking her wristwatch frequently, and wound up rushing things a little at the end. She drove home rapidly, and perhaps a little recklessly, pulling up in the driveway behind a now-familiar Mercedes sports car. “The Prince” was leaning nonchalantly on the trunk of the vehicle, watching them drive up.

“Hey, Betty. I thought we had a date,” he said, smiling.

“I’m just using my womanly prerogative by being ever so fashionably late,” she answered sweetly. “Raymond, I’d like you to meet my two best friends in the whole world.” She turned and indicated them. “This is Juno, and THIS” (pause for effect) “is Cindy. Ladies, may I introduce you to Raymond, the erstwhile Prince of Carpets.”

Cindy fidgeted while Juno shook hands, and then extended her own. His hand was warm and strong, and his eyes glittered as he swept them up and down her body, finally letting them rest on her own. “Do I know you?” he asked pleasantly.

“Cindy let you in yesterday evening,” Betty said sweetly.

He nodded. “Please forgive me, Cindy. I don’t know why, but I thought you were the maid.”

“I … I AM the maid,” she answered, before Betty had a chance to explain.

And instead of being embarrassed, he threw back his head and laughed merrily. “Well,” he said smoothly, “besides being the maid AND one of Betty’s best friends, you’re also distractingly pretty. Please pardon me for staring.” He finally let go of her hand while she blushed and looked down self-consciously. “Okay, Betty,” he said, turning to her, “ready to go?”

“No,” Betty said smugly. “The truth of the matter is that I want to tell my two friends a little story. Do you mind?” He gave her a quizzical look and shrugged. “Ladies,” Betty continued, “once upon a time, there was a prince. This prince, a brave, chivalrous fellow, attended a masked costume party, and there, he fell in love with a girl … and, coincidentally, he fucked her silly … not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, at the height of this occurrence, he was: Number One, high as a kite because somebody had spiked his drink; and Number Two, unable to learn his new love’s identity, because of her mask. He doesn’t know what she LOOKS like, but the one thing he DOES know is what she FEELS like. He’ll never forget how they ‘fit’ together. Later, he decided that he must pursue this girl … he must find her at all cost. Eventually, he located one girl who he believed was there that night. He wined her and he dined her and he coaxed her into his bed; but alas, he did not ‘fit’ inside her the way he had with the woman of his dreams. Is he doomed, do you think, to fuck every girl in the city until he finally finds the one who will prove to be the lock to his key?”

Well, he was certainly blushing now. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. “Look, Betty,” he said quietly, “I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you last night. I had no intention of ….”

“Don’t be silly, Raymond,” she said, grinning. “I had a GREAT time last night. I really did. And, I’m glad that you invited me out again. You’re really sweet, no shit. But the truth of the matter is that Juno and I have something we need to do instead. So, I was wondering if you could do me a BIG favor. Would you mind taking Cindy out tonight, instead?”

Cindy’s eyes went wide. Raymond seemed clearly taken aback, but he turned again to Betty’s friend, the maid, and he stared at her curiously before once again addressing Betty. “I don’t get it. Why the elaborate story?”

“I have no secrets from my friends,” she said, suddenly serious. “Cindy’s the sweetest girl in the whole world. I know that she’d love to go out with you, but I want her to know the whole story before she does.”

He regarded all three of them and finally broke out in a boyish smile. “Alright, I get it. Well, Betty, I hope you and Juno enjoy the evening together … somehow I think you will. And Cindy, if you would consent to letting me escort you to dinner, I promise that there will be no ulterior motives involved. I’d really like to take you out. What do you say?”"

“I … um …” She looked questioningly at Betty. “ … sure. I’d love to.”

“I think that whole story is so amazing,” Juno said, putting a hand on his arm. “I hope you find her someday.”

“I’ll let you guys know,” he responded. He put out a hand to Cindy. “Shall we?” She let herself be led around the vehicle and settled into the passenger seat of the sports car, and she waved wonderingly at the other two as they sped off.

On the way to the restaurant, which was down south, out in the country, he talked about the weather, about the region, about the history of the places they passed, and on and on. He kept stealing little glances at her … at her face, at her figure, at her legs, which were in a new pair of nylon stockings.  He made her feel feminine, alluring, and she glowed in an almost permanent blush. Eventually, she began to loosen up a little and respond to his banter. And finally, they were talking and talking and talking. The restaurant was wonderful. EVERYTHING was wonderful, though there were awkward moments, like when he wanted to order wine and she pointed out that she didn’t bring her purse along, so she had no ID. She didn’t bother to mention that the ID would not have allowed her to have the wine, anyway. During the “makeover” that afternoon, her appearance had gone from 18 to 23 in 30 minutes flat.

 Eventually, of course, the topic of conversation turned to books, though it was obvious that he was very reticent to do so, afraid that he would bore her. The result of this focus of discussion, however, left him astounded that a girl so shy and reserved would speak her mind so honestly. For example, Cindy espoused the belief that Slaughterhouse Five would eventually become known as one of the one hundred most important books ever written; but she also believed that Breakfast of Champions was a literary failure (simply too “cute,” she said). Whether he manifestly supported her opinion or vehemently disagreed, he suddenly realized how starved he was for the mental opportunity to do either with any human being, much less someone he found intoxicatingly attractive. As the talk continued, they physically drew closer, leaning toward each other, resting a hand on each other’s for emphasis.

She asked about his “collection,” and he told her that he sought “pulp” books and magazines. When she professed her ignorance about this type of literature, he explained that cheap, literary magazines of the 1920’s, 30’s, 40’s and 50’s were made from 100% pulp paper, like newspapers and the old-style comic books. In 1939, when the “modern paperback” first appeared in the U.S., they also used cheap paper (and only charged 25-cents per book). A few companies, such as Gold Medal and Lion, printed “paperback originals;” in other words, first editions in paperback. He was flabbergasted to find that she was hanging on his every word. He talked about the importance of first editions to collectors, their condition, and their dust jackets.

“Dust jackets,” she remarked, nodding. “Slip covers are for furniture.”

And he froze. A long, full minute passed, during which she realized what she had said, and she lowered her gaze, blushing. At last, she stole a peek at him. He was pale, and he was shaking slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said, honestly. “I … I didn’t mean to say that. Please … can’t we just keep talking? I would really like to keep talking to you. I wouldn’t mind if we kept talking … forever.”

“It was you,” he said breathlessly. “You were there. You’re the girl in the library.”

“Yes,” she said in a voice so slight that he almost couldn’t hear. And then, slowly, the expression on his face changed … changed to display the worst possible emotions he could have, in her opinion. Happiness, joy, contentment, longing and love all shone in his eyes. And a tear slid from hers. “Oh, Raymond,” she told him in a hushed tone, “can’t you see what type of girl I am? Can’t you see that this is one of those books you start reading, and you know, instinctively, that it can’t possibly have a happy ending?”

He barked a laugh. “And yet, we keep on reading, don’t we? Some books, you simply can’t put down. And I don’t CARE what ‘type’ of girl you are. We are human. We fall in love first and then spend the rest of our lives adapting to ‘types.’ But we do adapt. And I do love that girl I held in my arms that night. And if you are that girl, then there’s nothing you can say that would make me believe that you aren’t in love with me, too. And I also refuse to believe that our ending won’t be happy until we finish writing the story ourselves.”

She was really crying now. “Oh, please. Please take me out of here. Take me somewhere and … and let me hold you again. Just for a little while. Please.”

She let him help her out of her chair; and she let him lead her out to the car; and she sat silently in the passenger seat, trying to control her tears; and she watched as he pulled into the first motel they came to; and she stood silently beside him while he paid cash to the man at the front desk and listened to him make snide remarks, like: “Can I help you with your luggage, folks?” and “We have a free breakfast down here in the lobby from six to nine-thirty;” and she leaned into him as he put his arm around her and led her to the elevator and down the hall and into the plain room.  But then she was lost in a world where there was just the two of them. He held her, crushing her in his arms, and the kiss went on and on and on and on. She let her body collapse into his, clung to him with what little strength she could muster, and felt the room whirl around them. His lips were at her neck now, his hands at her back, unzipping the new dress, while she kept her arms wrapped around his neck, allowing him access to whatever part of her he wanted.

She toed out of the heels as the flimsy dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet. His hand seemed to only stroke her back, and the bra miraculously snapped free of her. She allowed him to push her body back away from his, let his gaze rake her breasts and nipples, and she blushed demurely as he muttered to himself: “Perfect. Just perfect.” This was the first time she had worn nylons stocking and a garter belt in her life, but fortunately, he seemed to have had at least some experience with them, for he made short work of the task, and she lounged back on the bed, completely naked, waiting for him as he disrobed, exactly as it had happened during their last encounter two nights before.

They kissed again, like the two thirsty lovers they were, drinking from the tender contact, but their desire never quenched. His hands were all over her, and hers responded, grasping him, stroking him, releasing her hold on his cock only to fill her hand with his balls. He groaned into her mouth and responded by finding and fondling her clitoris, pinching it lightly, pulling on it.

“Oh, please,” she begged. “Don’t make me cum yet! I’m ready for you! Please?”

“You sure are,” he told her, kissing her again and then grinning down at her. “You’re soaking down there.”

She blushed. “I can’t help it. You make me feel so powerless!”

He positioned himself between her legs while she reached down again, grasped his cock and guided it to its target. Then she reached back up and put both arms around his neck. The tip of his cock was in, but he didn’t push down into her, and with a whine, she began straining her hips upward. “Please! Don’t make me wait anymore!” And he began pushing into her, slowly, slowly. She gasped loudly and began to shiver. “Oh, Raymond, I hope I’m the girl you want me to be,” she said in a little-girl voice.

“But you know you are, don’t you?” he moaned, pushing further in. Further yet. And finally, finally, they were pressed together … firmly together, touching from head to toe. “You’re the one, Cindy. We fit. Do you feel it? You do, don’t you?”

One of her hands was in his hair, “Oh, Raymond. Oh ….”

He began his rhythmic strokes now, and, sensing that she wanted him to take her hard, he made his downward thrusts powerful, harsh, almost violent. Immediately, her legs came up and encircled his hips, pulling him into her with all her might. “OH!” she cried after each crushing assault. “OH! OH! OH! OH!” and eventually her exclamations went up in pitch and volume, until the dam burst and the orgasm flooded her body. He was right behind her, and with a shout, he slammed fully into her body, crushed her to himself with his strong arms, and his cock lurched and pulsed inside her. 

Long, long minutes later, resting on their sides but still clutching each other, his cock still impaling her, they both sighed, their desperate embrace easing as their bodies nestled together. “Would you really have done that to every girl in the city until you found me?” she asked him.

“A horrible sacrifice, I know; but even THAT would have been worth it to find my one true love,” he said, seriously. Then both their faces split into smiles, and they laughed.

“Where will we go on our honeymoon?” he asked her, abstractedly. And she was silent for a long minute before he realized that she was crying again. “Hey, Cindy, what is it? Whatever it is, we can work it out. I promise you.”

“I belong to someone else,” she said sadly, quietly.

“You’re married?”

“No, no. I mean I REALLY belong to someone else. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I am a slave. I can’t leave. I don’t think I could EVER leave. Deep down inside, as much as I love you, I don’t think I WANT to leave! It’s SO confusing … I don’t suppose I could ever really explain it to you … not so you’d understand. Can’t we just hold each other tonight and pretend? Can’t we have each other, just for tonight and …?”

“No,” he said simply, silencing her. He untangled their bodies, finally letting his half-engorged cock slip from its new home inside her, and he propped his head up using two of the pillows; then he gathered her back into his arms, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Instinctively, she threw her arm across his chest and her leg over his lower body and hugged herself to him. “Now,” he said calmly, idly stroking her bare back. “You enjoy being a slave, is that it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Well, at the moment, you are mine. I will not let you go until you tell me whatever strange story it is that you have to tell. This is my very first command to you … one that you MUST obey. Tell me, Cindy. Tell me now.”

And she did. 

From first to last; from the moment she had set foot in the mansion until this day with him, she told him. She left nothing out. Each character in the drama was described in exacting detail, each encounter, each desire, each demand, each response, each act of surrender, each emotion. He broke into the tale frequently, asking questions … which she answered immediately and honestly, holding nothing back. The only long interruption came when he asked her if either Pablo or her “Daddy” had ever done it “with her on top;” and when she had answered both in the negative and with inquisitive wonder about how such a thing was supposed to work, he scooped her body atop his, had her sit up, straddling him, and demanded that he provide a demonstration. Perhaps this explanatory exhibition would not have taken so long if he hadn’t been so insistent on showing her what he could do with his hands in this position, rolling her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, then sliding one hand down between them and rubbing her clit as she pumped herself up and down on his hard, unyielding shaft, causing her to arch and strain and shiver and moan and quake and cum and cum and cum; which sparked his own rather animated orgasm. This, of course, led to another period of recuperation … but finally the story continued. Counting the aforementioned questions and demonstration, it continued for three hours.

In the end, he had to admit that Cindy had become so hypnotically, emotionally and physically entangled with this crazy household’s occupants, that indeed, she may NOT be able to break away from them, and he resolved (to himself) that any attempt to wrest her away would have to start with Stepmother herself. Without her consent, he felt, Cindy would never be his. Exhausted, they arose, dressed and left (despite having to miss the free breakfast in the lobby). Fortunately, the front door of the mansion had been left unlocked. Cindy passionately kissed him goodbye, went upstairs and she finally crawled into bed a little after three o’clock.

For the rest of her life, she would never forget the next day. Still arising at six-thirty, she set about her normal routine. The change in that schedule came at about noon, when Stepmother insisted that Cindy wash and dry all the bedspreads and sheets in the UNOCCUPIED bedrooms upstairs, and that she PRESS the sheets! She stripped all the beds at once, made six trips down to the laundry room, and started the task. It would take hours, she knew, resulting in her missing her exercise and “mental conditioning” periods. It further surprised her when Pablo brought her dinner on a tray, so that she could continue, uninterrupted. Finally, long after dark, Cindy had brought the clean, wrinkle-free items back upstairs and had just finishing replacing them on their original beds, when Stepmother called her into her office.

“Cindy, I have some news that you might find a little unsettling. Please sit down, my dear.” Nervously, she did so. “I know from various conversations I’ve had today that you’ve become acquainted with that fine young man who took Betty out on a date the other night,” the woman continued. “Now dear, please don’t get excited, but I just got a call from Betty. She and the gentleman … Raymond, I believe his name is … went to Las Vegas this afternoon and got married.”

Cindy blinked. “Married?” she asked quietly.

“Yes dear. I realize that you and he had been … um … intimate during the party I asked you to attend. And I know that it’s very, very easy to form … an attachment with a boy under those circumstances, and I feel horribly responsible, in a way. But you see, that had been my design from the beginning … to get a wealthy young man interested in Betty; someone who could support her in the style I’d like her to live … someone that could be … well … manipulated, I guess you could say. So, you see, this worked out EXACTLY as I had envisioned it. But, my dear Cindy, I NEVER wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry if it has.”

Cindy blinked again. “What about Juno?” she asked, feeling dull and puzzled.

“Juno? You mean the girl I met in the hall the other night? I’m sure I don’t know ANYTHING about her. You’ll have to ask Betty, when she comes back after the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon,” Cindy echoed. She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I’m just the maid,” she muttered.

“Exactly,” Stepmother said, nodding. “I’m so pleased that you appreciate the hierarchy of modern society and your place in it. I just KNEW that you’d understand.” The woman stood up. Cindy looked at her for a moment, and did the same, and then allowed herself to be led to the office door. “Now, look at me please, dear … yes, right into my eyes … just like that. You are VERY tired, aren’t you, Cindy?”

Cindy sagged. Her thoughts seemed muddled and uncertain. “Tired.”

“Yes, dear. Now, go to your room, please. Just go right to bed. As soon as you lie down, you will see your metronome in your mind. Off you go, now.”

Dazed, Cindy did exactly as she was told. She stripped out of her clothing and stretched out under her blankets, knowing that she should have a lot to think about, but she was too sleepy to do so, and anyway, the metronome was clacking in her head. It seemed only a few minutes later that her alarm was sounding. 

In the shower the next morning, she started to cry. She cried as she dressed, and halfway down the stairs, on her way to breakfast, she suddenly decided that she wasn’t hungry; so she sat down on the steps, buried her face in her hands, and she cried some more. She was alright for most of the morning, and actually took a level of pride in the fact that she finished the daily bathroom chores without shedding a single tear. But something happened during lunch, and she left her food untouched and raced to her next chore, sobbing. She realized that she could handle things if she simply kept working, concentrating only on the task at hand, never wavering. And so, she worked through her “conditioning” period … Stepmother said she was busy, anyway … and when it was time to exercise, she rushed to get dressed, then set her machines at a higher level, almost reveling in the pain from her screaming muscles, refusing to stop even once, though her lungs were threatening to burst. During her crunches and other calisthenics, she counted loudly, blotting out any thoughts. But, alas, in the shower, there was little to distract her, and so she found herself sitting on the cold tile floor, letting the hot water wash over her nakedness, crying, crying.

For the first time, she changed her schedule without approval from Stepmother, and she worked at cleaning the downstairs hallways and foyer, skipping dinner, as well. Pablo approached with a tray of food, but she refused. He, however, simply would not leave her side until she had consumed something, so she took a bite of the sandwich and told him to be gone. Not enough, he argued, and again stood firm. They squabbled for awhile, and in the end, she ate about half the meal before he finally, finally left her alone. About ten o’clock, Stepmother herself came to her, but seemingly only to comment on how tired she looked. At that point, however, Cindy was consumed with an almost overpowering drowsiness, and it was all she could do to stagger up to her room, strip, and crawl into bed.

The next day started out to be a repeat of the one before. Cindy alternately cried and worked, but finally began to justify occurrences in her mind. She would ALWAYS be a slave, a maid, and a girl whose body was meant to comfort men in need. She would NEVER be free, or independent, or self-sufficient, and she would NEVER deserve the happiness reserved for those who were. She should try to find comfort in these truths. But then, of course, she would start crying again.

She reported for her mental conditioning period at the appropriate time, but instead of placing her immediately in a trance, Stepmother wanted to talk. Cindy was almost desperate for the peaceful oblivion of hypnosis, but tried to give the woman her full attention. And what she had to say was yet another harsh shock. “Cindy, I’m going to be leaving on a long trip soon. I’m going to be leaving you in charge of the house and all its affairs.”

“In charge?!” Cindy gasped. “I am a SLAVE! I can’t be in CHARGE of ANYTHING!”

“You are a slave, and you will damn-well do as you’re told,” Stepmother said firmly, but without a trace of anger. She saw a myriad of emotions crowd into Cindy’s expression. “Don’t worry, my dear, I wouldn’t be making you do this if I wasn’t certain … beyond any doubt … that you could handle the assignment. I will spend the next few days explaining exactly what things you have to do, when you have to do them, and how they will be accomplished. I will be available by phone and email. We will even have a daily video conference via computer, and I can hypnotize you for brief periods then. You WILL do this, Cindy. You will NOT argue.”

Cindy took a ragged breath. “Yes, Stepmother.”

The phone rang. Stepmother answered, listened intently, muttered a few “yes’s” and “I see’s,” hung up, told Cindy to remain there for a moment, and she hurried out of the room. At least now, Cindy had SOMETHING else to keep her gloomier thoughts from overwhelming her. Could she actually run the mansion administratively, AND keep the place clean, AND put two hours a day into exercising, AND keep two men satisfied sexually?

Stepmother came rushing back into the room. “Oh dear,” the woman sputtered. “Pablo is out somewhere doing Lord-knows-what, and someone just pulled up in the driveway. Go down and see who it is, won’t you Cindy?”

The girl rose immediately and ran out and down the stairs. At least, thanks to this most recent distraction, she was dry-eyed for the visitors. Just as she was crossing the foyer, the door burst open and Betty came in, carrying a shopping bag in each hand; but upon seeing Cindy there, she abruptly dropped them both and ran forward, throwing her arms around her.

“Happy Birthday, baby sister!” she screamed, hugging her tightly.

Cindy blinked. “What?”

“Don’t you know what day it is, you ninny? It’s your birthday!”

“I … I thought you were on your honeymoon,” Cindy stuttered.

“Well, yes, I was. But I’m not going to let something like a marriage keep me away from my best-friend-sister’s 18th birthday party! Oh … and here comes your present!”

Raymond walked in carrying two suitcases. “Where do you want these … honeybunch?” he asked Betty.

“Oh, just drop them anywhere, sweety-bumpinks,” Betty responded. “And can you go get the others, please?”

“Mind if I take a little break first, rose-blossom?” he asked her, staring openly at Cindy.

“Oh, very well, light-of-my-life,” she grinned. “But please, make it snappy.”

Raymond took two long strides to them, pried Cindy out of Betty’s arms, engulfed her in his own, and he kissed her. He kissed her hard. He kissed her for a long, long time. “Oh, God, Cindy, I missed you,” he said, looking steadily into her eyes.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she told him, suddenly cognizant that without his arms around her, she would have collapsed. Slowly, she struggled to get her feet back under her.

He released her. “Well, THAT’S an understatement,” he told her. “I don’t think ANYBODY could understand this setup. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get sugarplum’s other suitcases.” And he turned and left. He smiled and made a little wave as Juno passed him and came to stand beside Betty.

“You took your lesbian lover on your honeymoon?” Cindy gasped.

“Well, shit yes! What the fuck ELSE was I suppose to do out there?” Betty turned to Juno. “Show her what we did while we were in Los Angeles!” she ordered.

“Oh, Betty, please, no,” Juno pleaded.

Betty looked at her, kissed her on the tip of her nose, and said: “You are my sex slave, right?”

Juno’s face turned dusky. “Yes, Betty. I’m your sex slave.”

“Well then, do as I say. Show my best friend what we did in Los Angeles.”

Juno breathed raggedly, then reached down with both hands, grasped the hem of her blouse, and pulled it up to her chin. Juno’s breasts, slim, firm and proud were capped by long, thick, fat nipples; and each of those nipples sported a round gold wire ring, piercing it and hanging below it, alluring, erotic, enticing.

“Oh, my,” Cindy exclaimed, unable to take her eyes off the sight.

“You should have SEEN Raymond when he saw that!” Betty laughed. “I think he is going to INSIST that you do it, too! And if he doesn’t make you, I will!”

“BETTY!” Cindy yelled … and at last, her stepsister paused and looked at her silently, curiously. “Betty, what is going ON here? I thought you MARRIED him! I thought you were on your honeymoon! Why is everybody acting so INSANE?!”

Betty blinked at her, realization slowly dawning. “OH! MY! GOD! Mom didn’t tell you, did she? You’ve been sitting here for three days, NOT KNOWING!” She put a shaking hand to her head. “You must have been thinking horrible, awful, terrible things about me! Oh, gosh, Cindy … you’ve been crying, haven’t you? I can see the circles under your eyes! And you look gaunt! Have you been eating?” She spun on her heel and marched toward the stairs. “MOM!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Blinking, Cindy followed her. Juno, looking stunned, stood there and slowly lowered the hem of her blouse again.

They marched into Stepmother’s office. The woman was sitting calmly, waiting for them. “You didn’t TELL her!” Betty accused.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not? I can’t IMAGINE what she’s been going through!”

“Cindy has never experienced loss,” Stepmother said calmly.

Betty looked completely taken aback. “What?”

“The girl has never lost anything, because for her entire lifetime, she’s never OWNED anything. She never HAD anything TO lose, don’t you see? YOU have loved, and YOU have lost. You have owned something dear to you and lost it. But Cindy never has. And now, she knows. Now, she knows defeat … and now, for the rest of her life, victory will be that much sweeter. Now, she has lost a love; and now, possessing that love will be even richer, even more fulfilling and satisfying. Now, she knows.”

Betty sighed and gave her an exasperated look. “You hurt my best friend. Don’t think that I’m ever going to forgive you for that. Tell her. Tell her now!”

“Of course, dear.” The woman turned toward Cindy. “My dear, your swain, Raymond, came to me and asked me to release you to him. I refused. Then, to my utter amazement, instead of threatening me or bargaining with me, he offered to pay me every penny he had in the whole world in exchange for your hand. At that moment, I had a brainstorm. I didn’t want his money … I didn’t NEED his money. What I wanted was security and respectability for my DAUGHTER. And so, I again turned him down flat. He was a most-dejected fellow, I must admit. I told him that I wanted more. ‘I don’t HAVE any more,’ he wailed. ‘I’ve offered you all I have!’ But no, I told him, he DID have more. In fact, the girl he was so desperately courting had given up MUCH more than he was offering. And he – smart boy, your Raymond – seemed to understand immediately. ‘Very well,’ said he, ‘I will give you my wealth, my freedom … and my free will, if that is what you demand. I will share her with the other men here. I will GIVE anything and DO anything if I can just be part of her life.’ I must admit, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a man quite as smitten with anybody as he is with you.”

Cindy staggered to a chair and sat down. “What … what did you DO to him?”

“I hypnotized him, of course. He went right along with it. All he asked was that I give him my word that I would let him be near you … be with you. I gave him my promise; and he simply … gave up. He went right under, just as soon as I began my induction. Then, he went DEEP! Just as deep as you go, my dear. He merely surrendered himself … surrendered his free will, completely and without reservation. I woke him up, put him back under, over and over, deepening, strengthening my control over him. And when I was thoroughly convinced that he was completely in my power, I summoned Betty and laid out my plan. We would go out and get a pre-nup done immediately … one that would give her everything in the event of a divorce. You, of course, were busy with the sheets in the basement. That evening, they would fly to Las Vegas and get married. She would have her security, she would have her money, she would have her respectability, and she could then go out and do whatever she damn-well pleased for the rest of her life. She agreed, much to my amazement. I don’t know how they wound up in Los Angeles, though.” 

“Thank you, Mom,” Betty said, walking over to Cindy and hoisting her stunned friend out of the chair. “But next time, whatever your motives, keep your promise to ME and tell her! Don’t you EVER hurt my sister again, got it?”

“Yes, dear. I AM sorry. Oh, and Betty … I’ve gotten the tickets to Paris! The four of us leave next Tuesday.”

“Great, Mom. Cindy and I need to talk. See you around.” She led her friend out of the office, down the hall and into her room. Once there, she closed the door and pulled her to the bed, both of them instinctively plopping down on it the way they had so many times before during the previous months.

“Mom wants Juno and me to go France with her and her girlfriend …”

“GIRLFRIEND?” Cindy squealed. 

“Well, sure, haven’t you figured THAT one out yet? Why do you think she avoids the old man so much? She hates sex with ALL guys! And I was right … she’s been seeing this lady friend of hers for almost fifteen years now. Some housewife up in Jeffersonville. But now, I guess her kids are all grown up and gone, so she’s getting a divorce from her creepy husband and she’s going to start spending a LOT more time with Mom. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she moved in here. Hell, why not? Everybody else has.

“But, listen, Cindy, let me tell you what’s REALLY going on around here. No secrets, I promise. I went along with Mom’s twisted, nefarious scheme for two reasons. Number one, I was afraid that if I didn’t strike SOME sort of compromise with her, she’d be trying this kind of shit with me for the rest of my life. Anyway, I kind of like Raymond myself … a real gentleman, like I said before. He’s witty, and he’s sharp and he’s fun to be around. I think we really like each other, despite all the weirdness. That’s why we play at all the ‘sweety-pie’ stuff. It’s fun. 

“But Cindy, I give you my WORD, I’ll never come between you and your man. You KNOW what my word is worth … don’t you? After that first time, I never kissed you again, now did I? I felt like it a few times, I’ll confess, but my word is my bond. However … I MAY ask you to let me break that promise just once … or twice. I ….” Betty paused, trying to work up the courage to put her thoughts into words. “In two or three years, I want Raymond to be the father of my child, when I think the time is right. AND of Juno’s children. And yours, of course. I want them all to be REAL siblings … or half-siblings at least.  But we won’t do ANYTHING without your consent, I promise.

“And number two, now that we’re all legal and everything … now that all the documents have been signed … now that he’s MINE; well, Mom isn’t the one pulling his strings anymore. He’ll live here with us … he’ll be part of our family … but I’m going to give him the freedom to do whatever the hell it is that he likes to do. We went to LA yesterday so he could go to some Vintage Paperback Book Show in Mission Hills. He mailed back twenty boxes filled with books and some sort of weird magazines. Also, I am only going to ask him for the money that Juno and I need to have a little fun every now and then … he can use all he wants to buy his books, or whatever. And I told Mom that he’s going to get one of the big ballrooms downstairs to turn into his own library. Whatever he needs … whatever he wants. And, that means YOU, baby sister. I made Mom agree. When he wants you, he’ll have you. If he wants you in his bed all night, then, by God, he’s going to get you! Period.”

Cindy was crying again. “She was right, Betty,” she said at last. “I don’t think that I’ll EVER take him for granted … not for as long as I live. When I thought I’d lost him … I thought that I’d died. And a part of me had, I think. Now … Oh, gosh, Betty!” And she flung herself into Betty’s arms and held her.

“Happy birthday, little sis,” her friend whispered in her ear.

Back downstairs, Cindy found Raymond in one of the big ballrooms, and threw her arms around his neck. He picked her up and spun her around, squeezing her, laughing with her. “You had no right to do that for me!” she scolded. 

“I’d have done more for you, if she’d demanded it,” he told her seriously. “I love you, Cindy.” He kissed her again. Then he knelt at her feet, pulled up the hem of her skirt, and pulled down her panties.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cindy laughed.

“I’ve been on my honeymoon for three days without you, and I’m horny as hell!” he exclaimed, pulling the panties down to her ankles. He stood back up, grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and sat her on the edge of one of the big conference tables. 

She issued a little laughing shriek as he did so. “Somebody is going to see us in here!” she squealed.

“We’re just in here having a pleasant conversation,” he told her, stepping back a little so that he could unzip his trousers. He undid his belt, unfastened his pants, and shoved them, along with his underwear, down to his knees, then he stepped forward again. Cindy just naturally spread her knees apart for him. “You’re wet,” he commented, lifting her skirt and feeling with probing fingers between her legs.

“After that kiss you gave me in the foyer, I’m surprised I’m not leaving a trail,” she said, breathing hard.

“So, you see,” he continued, matter-of factly, “this room is going to house my collection. I’m going to arrange it in stacks … double-sided bookcases … over there. Ungh!” He shoved forward.

“OH MY, Raymond!” she gasped. She put her arms around his neck and clung to him. “You’re so BIG! You’re so DEEP!”

“My pulp magazines are going to go over there. Ungh! Ungh! Computers and scanners over here. Ungh!”

“Oh! Oh my! Oh!” She raised her legs and locked her feet behind him, urging him on. Her panties dangled from one ankle.

“Ungh! I’m part-way through writing a book for collectors now. Ungh! Ungh! I’m going to start a blog and an online reference site. Ungh!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Hey guys!” Juno cried happily. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” She advanced toward them.  “Am I interrupting anything? I just wanted to talk to Cindy about ….” She rounded the corner of the table and came to an abrupt stop. “OH! I … uh … I guess I AM interrupt … Holy cow!” She stood, hands at her sides, mouth slightly agape, staring with wide eyes at the pair.

‘Ungh! Ungh!” Raymond gasped frantically. “Cindy will be … Ungh! … with you in … Ungh! … just a minute. Ungh!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh my! Raymond! Oh! It’s coming! Oh! It’s coming now! OH! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!”

“Arrrgh!” Raymond bellowed. They clutched at each other frantically, their bodies arching into one another’s, fused together. His lips were at her throat, her fingers in his hair. They strained and shook and gasped and shivered and clutched. Eventually, taught muscles relaxed, breathing slowed, dilated eyes focused once again. 

Cindy glanced over toward Juno, who continued to stand in intense frozen amazement, and then she took a deep breath and looked back at the man in her arms. “Well, Raymond, thank you for explaining all that to me. I guess I’ll go … um … see what Juno wants now.”

He took a last ragged breath. “Great idea. I’ll just help you down off this table. Here you go.” He lifted her off and onto her feet. "Great talking to you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. I intend to take you to bed with me and fuck you non-stop until sunrise.”

“Oh. Well, until then ….” She gave him a smile and a little kiss and turned expectantly to Juno.

The girl seemed to suddenly come alive. “Oh, Cindy … I’m really sorry about … I mean … I should have left and … I just didn’t seem to be able to ….”

Cindy laughed. “Relax, Juno. We were just saying hello. Did you want to speak with me about something? I was about to go upstairs to talk to Stepmother.” Juno pointed uncertainly down toward one of Cindy’s feet, where her panties remained around one of her ankles.  “Oh, right.” Cindy stooped and plucked the garment from her foot, stuffed it into the pocket of her skirt and walked toward the door of the ballroom. “Would you mind if we walked while we talked?”

Juno fell into step alongside her. “Does she hypnotize you?”

“Stepmother? Oh, yes … yes, she does … almost every day.”

“What’s it like?” the girl asked her quietly.

“I think it’s wonderful. Stepmother says I’m psychologically addicted to it. I’m sure she’s right. I really miss it when we skip a day. Why do you ask?”

“Does she control you? Are you her slave because of it?”

“Yes. She told me once that she has no control over those who resist her … but I don’t resist her, you see. I’ve surrendered to her. So, yes, I’m her slave.” They were walking up the stairs now, but Cindy stopped and turned to her. “Do you want to be a hypnotic slave, Juno?”

“I … yes, I think I do. The whole concept makes me feel … all quivery inside. Betty is SO dominant, and I LOVE that! I’ve told her that I’m her sex slave … that I’ll do ANYTHING for her. But when I look at you …. I don’t know, maybe I’m just envious. The idea of surrendering emotionally AND mentally … oh, I think that would be so … wonderful!” The girl paused and took a breath. “Should I ask her? Betty’s mother, I mean. I’m a little afraid that she’d interfere with Betty’s and my relationship … but she might also make it SO much more … profound. What do you think?”

“I think that you’re just like me. I think that if you submitted to her … even once … you would be giving in to an entire lifetime of emotional slavery. There would be no turning back. And as for her interfering, well … tell HER about your concerns. And, I’m willing to bet that she won’t interfere at all. She values her daughter’s happiness above all else, so I think you can trust her, as far as that.”

“We’re all going away together next week … to Paris … Betty and me in one apartment, and her mother and her … friend in another.”

“Yes, I know.”

The slender girl was quiet for a spell. “I took my last paycheck and bought Betty a bunch of English-language classes at one of the Parisian Art Schools. Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

“I think that’s a tremendous idea! She’s going to LOVE it!”

Juno sighed, and then smiled at her companion. “You and I are going to be great friends, aren’t we?” She asked softly.

Cindy grinned and tucked her arm inside Juno’s. “I think we already are,” she answered, and they continued up the stairs together.

Before they could turn toward Stepmother’s office, however, she heard hammering from the other wing, and went to see what it was. Pablo was in Cindy’s room with some sort of oak furniture kit, putting it together. She asked him what he was doing, but he only smiled at her and told her to go ask the “señora.” Curious, they turned toward Stepmother’s office door and after knocking gently, the woman bade them enter. 

“Hello, ladies. What can I do for you?”

Juno breathed a ragged breath. “I want you to hypnotize me, please, Stepmother.”

The woman sat back and allowed a small twinkle to light her eyes. She smiled gently. “And why do you want me to do that, dear?”

The girl took Cindy’s arm in her hands and held it. “I want you to make me just like Cindy. Betty loves her … EVERYBODY loves her!” She took another breath. “I think I love her, too.”

Stepmother’s small smile grew. “You realize that this is going to be forever, don’t you?”

Juno shivered. “Yes, Stepmother,” she said, looking submissively downward. “But … I … if Betty ….”

“I promise you that I will not alter your relationship with my daughter, dear. But … you can never imagine the levels of submissiveness into which you are about to plunge. Are you certain that this is what you want?” She paused while Juno nodded silently. “Very well then. Go out into the adjoining room and locate a pyramid-shaped wooden box. It contains a metronome, which I will use to enslave you. Hold it on your lap while you sit and wait for my summons. Please close the door on your way out.”

Juno gave Cindy’s arm a gentle squeeze, and she left.

“Suddenly, I’m EVERYBODY’S stepmother,” the woman muttered.

“Stepmother, what is Pablo doing in my room?” Cindy asked now that they were alone.

“He’s putting together a bookcase,” was the reply. “Four feet wide … eight shelves. Have you ever heard of a ‘book fair,’ Cindy?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s a truly American invention, thanks to our tax codes. Charitable organizations ask people in the community to donate their old books. Then, they sell them all at a huge discount. There’s one at the fairgrounds tomorrow … more than half a million books, they say. Most hardback books will sell for a dollar … paperbacks for fifty cents. It’s all tax-free, since it’s for a charity. Anyway, my dear little slave, I’ve decided that you can go, and you can buy all the books you want, as long as they fit on the shelves of your bookcase. I will give Pablo the money. I’m sure Raymond will want to go, as well. If you get too many, then you have to immediately donate back whatever doesn’t fit on your bookshelves, so I advise you to take a ruler or something. Next year, you can donate all the books you want, and then go to the next annual book fair and fill it up again. Whatever books are on your shelves are yours to keep.” The woman reached into one of the drawers in the desk and took something out. “And here,” she said, holding it up. “You can start with this one.” It was the Little Golden Book … Cinderella.

With a cry, Cindy ran around the desk to her, startling the woman somewhat, and she fell on her knees and put her head on her mistress’s lap. “Oh, Stepmother!” she cried tearfully. “Thank you. Thank you SO much … for everything!”

Stepmother smiled and stroked the girl’s hair. “Ah, my little Cindy, you have NO idea what you’ve done for me … what you’ve done for my family. Before you came here, I was at my wit’s end. I won’t even tell you what horrible, awful things I was considering. I didn’t want to share my husband’s bed … but I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his home, either. And, then you came, and you let me resolve all of my problems through YOU! My husband, my daughter … even the the butler! You’ve been a Godsend, my dear.”

Cindy kept her cheek on the woman’s knee, smiling contentedly. “Four days ago, I didn’t know how my story could possibly have a happy ending,” she said. “I didn’t want to leave Raymond … and I didn’t want to leave Daddy … or Pablo … or Betty. And I knew that I COULDN’T leave you. There was no answer … but you found one, anyway.” She sighed. “You aren’t really my Stepmother.” 

“I’m not?”

“You’re my Fairy Godmother!”
