The Silver Stiletto
Isabella Olivia Ellis
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Silver Stiletto
Copyright© 2012 Isabella Olivia Ellis
ISBN: 978-1-77101-887-6
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: James Darcy
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
Based on the tale Cinderella
Chapter One
“Cinderella!” Her stepmother’s shriek was heard all the way down the grand staircase and into the formal parlor. After brushing her hands off on her apron, Cinderella scurried into the marble foyer and stopped at the foot of the stairs.
“Yes, Stepmother?” she called, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
Priscilla came into view, trailing a long white silken robe. For being forty-five, her stepmother’s looks were holding up remarkably well. While the other women in her circle relied on Botox and face lifts, Priscilla had been blessed with the gift of aging gracefully. And she knew it. Her brunette hair was swept into a perfect chignon and flawless makeup highlighted her aristocratic features
“Cin, I do recall that I asked you to pick up my dry cleaning. And you and I both know that I have an excellent memory,” Priscilla said in her light coastal Southern drawl.
Cinderella cringed at the much loathed nickname, but replied smoothly, “Yes, Priscilla, you did. However, the cleaner said your things won’t be done until Monday.”
Priscilla sucked in a breath, and the muscles in her neck visibly tightened. “This is absolutely unacceptable. The Governor’s Masquerade Ball is tomorrow, and I won’t have a thing to wear. Nor will your stepsisters. Let’s just say they will not be pleased.”
“Stepmother, what would you like me to do?” asked Cinderella. As she awaited Priscilla’s answer, she mentally calculated the numerous other tasks she had to complete before the day was over. Finish dusting the parlor, the household laundry, vacuuming, and grocery shopping, among other things… And if Priscilla didn’t insist on having things tailor-made, they could just run to the store for something.
Tapping her long, red nails against the banister, Priscilla declared, “I would like you to go up to the attic and pull down some of those trunks. Vintage is in right now, after all. And I know there are some fantastic silks tucked away.”
Cinderella swallowed hard and fought back the tears that threatened to spill down her checks. Trying to keep her voice even, she said, “Priscilla, those were my mother’s gowns.”
The response was met with narrowed eyes.
“And just what does that mean? You do remember that your father left everything to me, right? Everything belongs to me, not you. So those are now my gowns.”
“Yes, Stepmother.” With her head lowered, Cinderella knew she was the perfect model of a submissive servant that would please Priscilla.
“That is all. I have things to attend to before tomorrow. Leave the trunks at my door.” With that, she turned on her heel and traipsed back down the upper hall to her bedroom suite.
Cinderella fought the urge to cry as she climbed the main staircase, and then the rear one that led up to the attic. Since she alone scrubbed the house from top to bottom, there were no cobwebs or dust bunnies to greet her once she opened the door leading to the home’s storage area. She pushed aside random boxes marked with labels like “Missy’s Old Toys” and “Christmas Decorations” to reach the farthest corner of the attic, where her mother’s old trunks had been moved after Priscilla and her daughters had come to live with Cinderella and her father. She recalled with more than mild bitterness how her stepmother immediately got rid of anything that was even the slightest reminder of Estelle. Though Priscilla was an obviously beautiful woman, she knew her looks couldn’t begin to hold a candle to Cinderella’s pretty, sweet mother.
She had only been ten-years-old when Estelle passed, and thirteen when her father remarried. Even after all these years, Cinderella still pined for her mother and loathed her unkind stepfamily. After opening the first trunk, she surmised that it held only old photo albums. Cinderella lifted the top album out and a candid photo of her mother at a dinner party slid from between the pages and to the floor. Carefully picking it up, she glanced down and sighed as she looked into the face that was a spitting image of her own. Well-spaced eyes a brilliant shade of green, delicate Roman-esque nose, and a small mouth with full pink lips, all surrounded by thick waves of golden blonde hair. Cinderella had also inherited her mother’s petite figure but with all proportionate curves. Sighing, she tucked her mother’s photo into her pocket and proceeded to the next trunk. This one was full of her mother’s formal attire, beautiful silks and elegant satins of the finest make and cut. Even many years after they were made, they were still fashionable and in great condition. The quality of her mother’s taste was still clear.
As she gently began to sift through the lovely fabrics, memories of certain ones hit her. Her mother wearing the royal blue sheath to her tenth birthday party. The gray silk Estella favored for small dinner parties. Once she reached the bottom, she found numerous pairs of shoes. Cinderella sat down and pulled on a pair of ballet flats. They felt slightly loose, which didn’t make sense because she was the exact same shoe size as her mother had been. Realization struck her. Cassandra. Her older stepsister must have been rifling through the clothes and had tried on the shoes. She was a shoe size or so bigger than Cinderella and Estelle, but that didn’t stop her from forcing it. Shaking her head, she placed the shoes back in the trunk and closed the lid gently.
With another sigh, Cinderella began to tug the trunk out past the endless stacks of boxes and discarded furniture and to the stairs. She bent over, and then her heart nearly leapt from her chest when she heard the wooden floor creak behind her. She turned quickly, only to meet with strong hands propelling her body backward.
Blake. Handsome, devilish Blake. Her stepsister Missy’s boyfriend.
Never able to resist a good looking man, Cinderella was even more susceptible to his charms. He stood beyond six feet and had healthy tanned skin from days of rowing on the river or golfing with his father’s influential friends, and a face that was worthy of a magazine advertisement. The combination of his dark blue eyes and thick black hair made girls on the street swoon.
“Don’t make a sound,” he murmured in her ear, as his hands roamed down the front of her dress, across her firm breasts, and then behind her back.
Cinderella felt his hands roughly tugging on her apron strings, and then the fabric fell noiselessly to the floor, leaving her in just a thin cotton dress. “Blake, what if…” She stopped when his hand came pressing to her mouth. The hand slid from her face and gave a gentle slap to her cheek.
“What did I say?” he asked. She remained silent this time, and he brought his hands up around her neck, into her thick, golden hair, and pulled her face up to his. He forcefully pressed his lips to hers, parting them with his searching tongue. Her mouth slid along his, and he broke the kiss with a strong suck and nip to her lower lip.
Cinderella moaned softly.
“That was a sound, Ella,” Blake reprimanded. “You’re j
ust not listening today, are you?” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Are you?”
“No,” she said, barely audible. His grip tightened.
“No?”
“No, sir.”
“I think it’s been too long, Ella. I think you’ve just forgotten how to act around a man. Is that it?” With that, he pushed her to the hard floor. “Answer me. Is that it?”
Cinderella, kneeling, looked up at him with wide eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I have forgotten how to act around a man.”
“Get on your hands and knees.”
She complied and did so with her rear facing him. Blake lifted the skirt of her dress and tucked it so the extra fabric rested on her back, leaving her panty-covered ass exposed. He gripped her hip firmly with his left hand and raised his right high above his shoulder, only to bring it back down swiftly and sharply. Then twice more. Cinderella bit her lip, but a small hiss of air still escaped her mouth.
“Still having trouble, I see,” Blake said, lifting his hand once more. Only this time, as he brought it down, he twisted his cupped hand and she took the smack square between her legs. She cried out loud this time, a gasping moan that earned her three more smacks in quick succession on her most private area.
Blake chuckled. “Mmm, I can feel how wet you are. You like it, don’t you, Ella?” His hands wandered all over her lower body, up and down her smooth thighs, and across her now reddening ass. Cinderella didn’t say a word, reveling in his awaited reaction. “Ella! Tell me you like it.” He brought both hands down on each of her flanks. Her flesh bounced with every delicious spank.
“I like it,” She whispered, lowering her upper body so her ass was even higher in the air, rising to meet his rough touch.
“That’s what I thought. You’re a very dirty girl, Ella,” Blake said as he looped his fingers around the waistband of her panties and violently pulled them down around her bent knees. With that, Cinderella tried to turn around, but he kept her down with one push. He wound the fingers of one hand around her long hair and let the fingers of the other hand explore the soft wetness between her thighs. His middle finger played along her cleft and dipped into her moisture.
“You’re very wet, Ella. Very wet and very warm.” With that, he thrust all the way inside her, as far as his finger would go.
Cinderella made a hum of pleasure, and pushed herself back to allow him to penetrate further. She reached one hand behind in an attempt to feel him, but he slapped it away. He slipped another finger in her pussy to stretch her tight hole, and began to undo his belt with his other hand. Sensing this, Cinderella spread her knees farther apart in anticipation. As Blake was about to pull down his zipper, they both heard Priscilla call from below.
“Cinderella! Aren’t you done up there yet?”
They froze.
Cinderella shot up to her feet, causing her panties to drop around her ankles. She yanked them back up in one fluid motion and shouted, “Yes, Stepmother. Just, um, about to bring one down.”
Priscilla appeared in the doorway, and paused when she saw Blake. “Oh, Blake dear, what ever are you doing up here? Missy was looking for you.”
Blake turned carefully to avoid Priscilla getting a glimpse of his erection. “I was just helping Cinderella carry a trunk down. They appear to be quite heavy.”
Laughing and leaning to touch his arm, Priscilla responded, “That isn’t your job, Cinderella can manage just fine on her own. Why don’t you come down and help us choose which gowns will be the most flattering for tomorrow?”
Blake subtly shifted away, and said easily “Oh, it’s no trouble, Pris. We’ll be right behind you.” With that, she shrugged and disappeared back down the stairs. He flashed his straight, white teeth in a grin at Cinderella, “That was a close one, eh?”
Cinderella just shook her head, tied her apron back on, and pointed to the trunk she wanted him to carry.
Downstairs, they found Priscilla and her two daughters, Missy and Cassandra, waiting impatiently in the master suite.
“I have been looking all over for you, Blakey!” shrieked Missy, throwing herself in his arms as soon as he set the trunk down. “You’re my boyfriend, not a butler! You don’t need to be helping Cin around the house.”
With that, she kissed him square on his full lips. Cinderella had always thought that perhaps Missy exaggerated her bubbly personality in hopes of compensating for her physical appearance. Not to say that Missy wasn’t attractive, she just lacked the refined, classic features of Priscilla or the delicate grace of Cinderella’s finely-shaped face. Missy had stick straight dirty blonde hair, slightly squinty dark green eyes, and a nose with a too wide bridge. Her mouth was a tad pronounced, mainly due to the permanent pursed expression she wore. However, her curvaceous yet still trim figure made up for those characteristics, and tended to attract handsome well-to-do men, just like Blake.
Of course, also like Blake, those men had a habit of falling hard for her slightly younger stepsister, Cinderella. Whether or not Cinderella took them up on their advances depended mainly on how poorly Missy, Priscilla, or Cassandra was treating her around that time. Cassandra had lucked out with wavy, rich chestnut hair and her features favored their mother in their more elegant Grecian lines. But Cass tended to be the shrillest and most demanding of the three and had no qualms about ordering Cinderella around like she was an indentured servant. This is why Cinderella felt absolutely no remorse for having returned the attentions of Cass’s many boyfriends.
Priscilla unlatched the trunk that used to belong to Cinderella’s mother, and pulled out the first garment she laid her eyes on. “Oh, my! Missy, this would be simply smashing on you!” She sighed as she held up a lavender gown with a trumpet shaped hem. Missy reached for it, and held it up to her svelte frame.
“Ooo, I think you’re right, Mother,” she said, and then turned to Blake, “What do you think, baby?”
When Cassandra started rifling through the delicate fabrics, Cinderella couldn’t watch anymore. “I’ll be finishing my chores downstairs, Stepmother.”
In the kitchen, Cinderella scrubbed the pots and pans with a vengeance. Sometimes, while beating the dust out from a rug, she liked to pretend that the rug was actually one of the members of her step-family. She couldn’t wait to escape someday. The way they treated her, as well as the way her stepfamily wanted to eradicate any trace of her parents, was just unbearable. If she had any other family or a way to move out without living on the streets, Cinderella would have gladly jumped at the chance. Once finished with the dishes, she moved on to her last chore of the evening before she could retire to her room, dusting. As she ran the feather duster over the photographs on the mantle in the living room, she noticed for the thousandth time that not a single one was of her or her father. The frames just held shots of Priscilla, Missy, and Cassandra, and occasionally Blake since he and Missy had been dating for a couple of years.
And fucking me on the side for nearly as long.
When she finally completed the daily chores expected of her, Cinderella retreated to her room. Of course, she couldn’t even go to bed yet. She had mid-term exams in a week and hadn’t been able to study yet. There was no way she could ask Priscilla to cut back on her chores. She had in the past and hadn’t heard the end of it for days.
“Cinderella!” Her stepmother would exclaim shrilly. “I put a roof over your head. I pay your college tuition with my own money. And you want to just slack off? I can’t even begin to understand the depths of your utter laziness!” Never mind the fact that the money had been the product of the hard work of Cinderella’s father. Or that Priscilla and her daughters were the definition of lazy. Neither of her step-sisters even knew how to wash their own laundry. If Cinderella pressed too much, she knew Priscilla would begin threatening to completely cut her off. And if she ever wanted to get out from under her stepmother’s clutches, she knew she had to keep pressing on and finish her college degree. Thank
s to her stepmother delaying her entrance to college, she was already a couple years behind graduating as it was. At twenty-two, she should have had her degree by now.
Thus, after a long day of following orders and doing work that would keep three maids busy, she sat down at her small desk to crack open her textbooks. However, after only an hour or so of reading about political theory, she started nodding off. With that, she clicked off her lamp and tucked herself into bed.
Chapter Two
Cinderella was roused from her sleep when she heard the door to her room shut with a light tap and the familiar sound of a lock being turned. Startled, she sat up to see Blake barely illuminated by the dim light coming through her window. “Blake, what are you…”
He stepped quickly over to the bed and shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Shh, I just came to say good-night.”
“But what if Missy wakes up and notices you’re gone?”
Laughing, Blake replied, “With the sleeping pills she takes? I could have a party in the room and she wouldn’t know it.” One hand skated down her bare shoulder and he leaned down to gently bite it. “Mmm,” he said against her flesh, “that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” He kept his mouth there, and lazily stroked her chest, feeling her nipples harden through the delicate fabric of her nightgown. Tweaking one playfully, he whispered, “Do it for me.” Cinderella blushed and lowered her head to the wall opposite Blake. He pulled her face back to him, brushed his mouth along where her hairline met her forehead, then down to swirl his tongue in her ear. “Do it.” He commanded again.
Ever the submissive one, she lay back on the bed, kicking her blanket down past her feet. Cinderella pulled her nightie up, baring her breasts. Blake bent down and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until it felt like a small pebble. She reached down, pushed her panties to one side, and gently parted the lips of her pussy with two fingers. Using her middle finger, she began to rub small circles against her clit. Blake sat up to watch Cinderella touch herself, as he found seeing her do it almost as arousing as commanding her to. Her free hand drifted upward to first cup one breast and then pull at her stiff nipple. With her breath coming in shorter gasps, she slid her finger from her clit down her slit. Her pussy was slippery, and her finger went in easily. She fell into a rhythm of in, out, in, out as Blake eagerly looked on. Back arching with each plunge of her finger, Cinderella began to moan a little too loud. This caused Blake to press his mouth onto hers, and she stopped what she was doing to run her fingers up his back and into his short black hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.
The Silver Stiletto Page 1
