Two heavy-set coachmen hauled me through the broad ballroom doors by both arms. I was just a ragdoll between them – a reluctant, powerless girl, dragged through the cavernous, resplendent hall.

I was towed into an ante-chamber and dropped unceremoniously to the mosaic floor – in front of her once more. She looked torn between a scowl and smirk as I was forced to clumsily right myself.

Standing between them, my manicured bush my only modesty, I was relieved when the men shrunk back to mice and scurried off.

She examined me over her nose and I stood defiant, nipples high on my hefted breasts. My hair was ruined, my skin cut and bruised, but I stood tall.

“You were granted your wish. You know the deal.”

I hated her drawling voice; it made my teeth grind.

At her feet sat my glass slippers. She kicked them towards me.

“You’re mine now. Put them on.”

“No.”

I knew it was futile, but I wanted to resist in some way – any way.

“You know the wishes I could undo. Put them on – make this easy for us.”

I couldn’t win, but I wanted the pleasure of trying, first – anything to irk the bitch. Her fist clenched until her knuckles turned white.

“Cindy,” she growled.

I swallowed and nodded, resigned to the unavoidable fate. I despised that ‘nickname’ almost as much as her slippers.

“Yes, yes – okay!”

Walking towards her, thighs brushing my bare sex, I stared at those accursed slippers.

I remembered kicking them across the room on the stroke of midnight, while my ball gown disintegrated around me. I remembered laughing as the prince watched me flee, naked, into the night. I remembered the freedom.

I was smiling as I stepped into the glass articles – the Fairy Godmother’s mark - and accepted my place as her property again. For a short time, I had been free. I had escaped – and I could do it again.

My hair tied itself up neatly and my skin healed, flushing prettily as the slippers shone beneath me, working their magic. I admit I felt better for it.

Her lips tightened in triumph. Clicking her fingers, the door behind her silently opened.

“You will go to the ball.”

I was still smiling as I strutted through the doorway, breasts and nose held high. A man awaited me in an ostentatious bedroom, filled with fine furniture. With a refined poise and grace, I sashayed towards the prince.

“Ah, there you are, my princess.”

I felt almost sorry for the delusional sap.

“I’m here, my prince.”

They were my last words before I shoved him onto an ornate chair and crashed to my knees before him.

I clawed at his breeches and seized his solid shaft between my lips. The prince groaned and writhed from the very first touch, incoherent and helpless. I feasted on him, drooling and moaning with enthusiasm, delighted by his whimpers.

He stared down at me in wonder – eyes wide and gasping.

His moans echoed around the wood-panelled walls and seemed to quake with his knees. I smirked as I worked him deeper into my throat, feeling his fingers fumbling for my hair.

I felt the burning eyes on the back of my bobbing head the whole time. Sucking him from my lips with a pop, I twirled and saw her watching from the doorway. Our eyes made contact as I stroked his shaft, smiling coyly to them both.

Crudely licking my palm and stroking my exposed sex, I bent at the waist before him. Spreading my lips, I slid along his pole, slowly. Placing his cock at my tender hole, my heat sank around his throbbing meat. With two heavy handfuls of tits, I grinned at the voyeur.

‘Let her watch a true whore in action,’ I thought as I impaled myself to the hilt and purred – in stereo with his whines.

The prince sagged into his chair, groaning and overwhelmed. His hands rested on my hips, but I was in control. Leaning forward and glowering at the woman in the doorway, my hips bounced rhythmically, working him deeper through my clenching pussy walls.

Sitting upright, I placed his wayward hands over my bouncing breasts. His grip was firm, but exploratory, as I slammed my constricting cunt continuously around his cock. Cupping the weight of his heavy sack, I weighed up my prize. He mewled, thrusting his hips higher.

I couldn’t stop the surprised squeak and groan he forced from my lungs.

“Getting excited, your Grace?” My tone was polite, if challenging.

He watched me turn and straddle him. His eyes were wide, flicking between my face and my crease as I dragged his cockhead through my dripping folds.

“I’ll have to try harder.”

I let my legs collapse. I engulfed him, smacking against his pelvis with all my weight. His head threw back as I leaned forward and buried his face between my tits, grabbing his hair with both hands.

I could feel his hot breath against my chest, panting desperately and whimpering from the onslaught. My fingers bit into his scalp as I rode him hard, suffocating him in cleavage. He clawed at my back, yelling and whimpering into my chest.

I quaked with every plunge on his straining cock. With the relentless rocking of my hips, he began to shake.

His breath caught and I jumped clear. He yelled out, loudly, and his cock pulsed. Strings of thick come sprayed across his body. I watched, smirking, as he twitched, coming and convulsing uncontrollably, hands hanging at his sides.

I turned and left, swaggering naked through the spacious halls. Behind me, I could hear him whimpering out his climax. Despite the throbbing in my snatch, I managed a wink for the Godmother as I passed her.

Leaving again felt good, but I knew it was no good. The tingle in my snatch was undeniable. I was the Fairy Godmother’s whore.