A Dickgirl Fairytale

Ella bit her bottom lip as her right hand moved down her taut belly to the stiff pole between her legs. In her secret fantasy, the half naked man in the stable had a gleam of lust in his eye as he beheld her throbbing cock. He pulled her to him and they were pressed, cock to cock. Then he was behind her and guided her other hand to his own massive manhood. It could barely be tucked away in his pants. The stable boy had a lustful monster of a dick that begged to get free.

Ella held her left hand over her mouth as she gripped her penis and stroked with perfect timing up and down. She moved her hips to the hand's tempo and her breasts swayed in time, together and apart. In her mind's eye, it was him. It was the stable boy with the beautiful dick. It was him and his hand was a genius with her body and all the while his mouth was on her neck. He kissed her and told her what a beautiful girl she was and how he'd longed and ached for her. All the while, he stroked the one thing that made her not a girl but the stable boy seemed to love that about her..

Ella felt the push in her hips as she approached her climax, the need to thrust. Her thighs quivered and the sound that built in her throat threatened to burst from somewhere deep inside that ached to be fucked in some way that Ella couldn't yet quite fathom. Her hand worked up and down her meaty girth, faster now, as the stable boy told her that he loved her and her giant cock. "Ella, my love, cum for me, cum for me now, cum in my hand, beautiful girl," he panted. He was lost in his desire for her as Ella moaned and the first spurt of her milky orgasm burst from her depths, a kaleidoscope of pleasure.

It was ecstasy. It was colors and music and the spasm that started between her shoulder blades forced its way down with a gasp of delight all the way to her dainty, pointed toes. "Yes, yes, oh god," Ella cried out again and again. Her left hand had gotten away from her mouth and the words that came from her were spoken like a prayer, something fervent, something from the soul.

When she was spent and empty, Ella slowly opened her eyes and she was back in the old attic. Her round, ripe hips and belly were covered in the thick cream that had discharged from her overflowing balls. Her forearm trembled, her little hand was sore from the effort and a contented laziness swallowed her up. She almost couldn't ignore the temptation to go back to sleep.

The voice froze Ella in her tracks. "My, my, my," it was a woman's voice and almost a hiss and the only person in the world that could make Ella's blood run cold like that was her stepmother.

The false Lady Hastings stepped from the shadowy corridor into her room. Her stepmother was long and bony and kept her corset cinched tightly around her gaunt body. She was pale and had long, black hair with gray streaks and gray shadows below her eyes no matter what the time of day. If Ella had been smaller, she would have been terrified of Margery. As it was, especially in this vulnerable position, Ella's pulse throbbed at her temples and she pulled her legs and arms together to cover her nakedness.

Of course, it was too late to protect herself but Ella managed to sound furious when she demanded, "Get out of my room, Margery."

Her stepmother cackled, "So this is your secret, is it, little Duchess? I believe that you and I have much to discuss Ella." The woman slunk back into the corridor and called to her, "put some clothes on for goodness sake and come to the kitchen."

***

The new Lady Hastings was waiting for Ella at the head of the massive oak table that was close to the fire in the kitchen. The table used to be a feast for the eyes, a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables from the garden or from the market. There were almost always flowers for the house and most times the butcher had brought a chicken or two or a great slab of meat that was yet to be cooked or hung. Ever since Ella could remember coming to the kitchen, looking for treats, there was always bread cooling or a bowl of some concoction that Cook had set aside for a growing girl. Now the table was bare except for a couple of potatoes and a few onions that looked to be fit for the slop trough. The dark-haired old witch gestured to the chair to her right. "Sit, little Duchess and let's have a chat about your future," she sneered.

Ella's heart raced in her chest. No one had ever known. No one on earth knew but her parents and her mother had taken the secret to her grave. Her father was too ill to speak anything but gibberish to ghosts and yet, here her shame had been on display for a woman who despised her. Still Ella stuck out her chin in defiance and said, "You have absolutely nothing to do with my future."

Her stepmother pointed one pale, bony finger and declared, "While you are under my roof, I have everything to do with your future, aberration."

"It's not your roof," sniffed Ella and crossed her arms over her chest.

The woman's thin, greasy smile spread across her whole face. Her jagged teeth showed. They gleamed in the firelight and like this, with her fangs out, she appeared to be even more like the snake Ella knew her to be. "It is now, Ella," her eyes danced with a wicked glee. "Don't you forget it. And seeing how we have fallen upon hard times," her stepmother gestured to the scarce, rotten vegetables, "you must work to pay for your keep."

Ella drew her shoulders back and spoke in a haughty tone, "I am the rightful heir and the true Duchess Hastings. When my father dies, which I'm sure he will soon, thanks to you and your dreadful brats, you will no longer be welcome in my home."

Her stepmother threw back her head and cackled and the sound froze Ella's heart. "Oh, my dear, that almost sounded as if you meant it. Who do you think inherits all that you see once your dear father passes?" Of course Margery had access to his papers and the money and all of it most likely transferred legally. At least as legally as she could with a sickly, old man who imagined that his dead wife whispered in his ear. Margery's bony fingers had probably grabbed hold of the keys to the house before she took her dead mother's wedding band. "So as I see it, you have one of two choices, Ella," Margery said her name as if it left a bad taste behind in her mouth. "You can bring something of value to the house and earn the privilege of a roof over your head." Her smile indicated that she'd enjoy what came next, "or I'll be forced to tell the people of the village about your," she wagged her index finger to indicate Ella's crotch, "disgusting secret."

"You wouldn't tell!" Ella's voice shook with tears and the panic made her whole body shiver. It was her worst nightmare come true and the scene that she could never fully erase from her mind came back again in full force.

Ella didn't remember how old she was but she was young enough that she had to skip to keep up with her father's steps. She had been skipping and twirling beside him, mid dance as usual, as they came to the town square. There in the pillory had stood a man and he had been naked and bleeding. Ella remembered that she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. It was the first nude man that she'd ever seen. The familiarity between what she had between her legs and his was something she had assessed quickly. The man had bleated for mercy and had looked up with a pitiful howl and a grunt. He had peered at Ella with one eye. He only had one eye, one enormous, lidless eye in the middle of his forehead. Ella had screamed and turned to her father with her arms up to indicate that she needed to be picked up immediately.

Lord Thomas had done so and had petted her hair softly. Her father had whispered, "There, there, child. He can't get at you. And he wouldn't hurt you even if he could."

"He's not a monster?" Ella had asked through sobs.

Her father had kissed her forehead softly, "No, not at all, my girl. He's just different. He was born with one eye instead of two."

She remembered gulping hard and tasting salty tears, "Then why is he in the pillory?"

Lord Hastings had set her down and stood upright. That question he answered out loud so that anyone passing might hear his thoughts. "Because he's different, my girl, and that's enough for small-minded people to punish anyone."

Ella had never forgotten that day. It had been instantly etched in her memory. She'd never forgotten the man or the people who had walked by and laughed or pointed. She'd never forgotten the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was lucky. She was lucky because what made her a monster was easier to hide than the huge eye in the middle of his forehead.

She came back to the present quickly as Margery assured her, "Of course I would tell, little Duchess. I never liked you even before I knew you were a filthy, little freak."

Ella sniffed and hung her head. She knew that as much as she despised her stepmother, more people in the village would agree with her than didn't. "What am I supposed to do?" she whispered.

Margery leaned back in the chair and tapped her long nails on the table, "Well you can start by making me a cup of tea."

***

The moon was about to be full once more, which meant that Ella's indentured servitude had gone on for a full month. Her straw mattress up in the attic, once so uncomfortable, now beckoned to her in the middle of the day. Ella would have given anything to sleep until the sun came up but now her days started before the rooster crowed. They usually extended long into the night. Sometimes she was so tired that she didn't even bother to climb the stairs all the way to her little garret. Sometimes she just fell asleep in the kitchen, curled up in a ball with the potatoes and rutabagas.

Anastasia and Druscilla had rung the bell yet again for their bath water to be brought up. Ella had been waiting for the cast iron pot to heat to almost boiling and found herself nodding off where she stood. If she sat at the table, she'd surely fall asleep with her head in the porridge that she was preparing for tomorrow's breakfast. None for her though, she remembered with a sigh. Ella's stomach rumbled as she looked at the food that she was forbidden to eat.

She and the sow shared slop right now to get them through the lean times. Lord Thomas required medicine and a doctor and Ella would rather starve than watch him suffer any more than was necessary. Still, being this hungry was almost more than she could bear. "Mother, please watch over father and I," she would whisper with her hands clasped beneath her chin in prayer as she looked out the window to the dark sky. The moonlight bathed the garden below in luminescence and illuminated what great disrepair it had fallen into. Once a thing of beauty, Hastings Manor was crumbling just like its namesake.

The bell rang again and then two bells and then all three and Ella muttered, "fine then, you ugly bitches. You'll have a lukewarm bath." She wrapped a thick cloth around the handle and struggled up the stone staircase and then down the hallway to the right. Ella stopped outside her old bedroom door and knocked politely as the help should. Ella sloshed a little of the water and it spilled on her tiny, bare feet. She was instantly glad that the two sisters had been so impatient about their bath.

"Get in here," Anastasia's high pitched voice called to her, "I don't know why on earth it should take you so long to fill up a tub."

Ella swallowed down yet another sharp reply, one of the hundreds that she ate every day. If retorts were only food, she thought, she'd be absolutely stuffed. Druscilla had her back to Ella and pointed to her corset, "Ella, untie me."

Ella hated bathing her stepsisters for many reasons. Not the least of which was the fact that she herself was filthy. The only way that she was able to wash was from the well bucket early in the morning when the water was almost frozen. Ella hated being on her knees. She hated to untie their corsets and roll down their stockings and loosen their buttons. It was so humiliating to bow and scrape for them.

The worst thing of all was how she loved it. Ella had an erection the entire time she washed the two stepsisters. The excruciating ache grew in her pent up balls as her hands moved over both of their bodies.

Ella closed her eyes and tried to unhook her stepsister by feel rather than let her eyes roam over her pale, slender body. Once the corset fell to the floor, Druscilla pulled her blouse off and tossed it aside as well. Nude to her waist, Ella couldn't help but let her eyes wander over her body. Druscilla was mostly straight up and down, almost like a young girl. She was built more like her mother Ella guessed and her breasts were small tea cups with strawberry tipped nipples. Her long, ginger curls hung to her square hips and she could almost hide herself entirely in the sheath of her hair. Once her skirt and petticoats were off, Druscilla wanted Ella to roll down her stockings, something she indicated with just a movement of her thigh.

Ella wanted to refuse her but there was something sensual about the feel of fabric in her hands. As she revealed the satin skin underneath, Ella's cock absolutely demanded that she fondle her stepsister's legs. "You're getting my stockings dirty, you filthy, little bitch," Druscilla snarled at her and pointed at the traces that Ella's hands had left on the lace. "You'll have to wash them tonight," she said with a sigh. It wasn't a request and Ella seethed, teeth clenched as she remembered that neither of these girls or their mother had ever uttered a please or a thank you the entire time that they had lived in the house.

Thankfully the feel of Druscilla's soft calf and then a little higher up, the satin skin behind her knee, stopped those thoughts in their tracks. Ella felt the pulse, the pull, the longing in her shaft as the beast between her legs hardened for her stepsister.

She hated the dreams of fucking them, both, one at a time or together. They were almost a nightly occurrence.

Druscilla snatched her slender calf away, "Don't touch me with your dirty hands. You're covered in cinders." She peeled down her cotton bloomers and her bare pussy was just inches from Ella's face. Druscilla had a few, sparse red hairs on her mound but she was mostly smooth and Ella knew from washing her there, incredibly soft. Her pussy lips were dark pink and seemed to bloom and open just for Ella. Ripe and scented of her femininity and warmth, Ella had spent more than one tortured moment wondering what Druscilla would taste like on her tongue.

She hated wanting her.

Anastasia cackled and added , "You're getting dirtier every day, Ella. It's grotesque. Your name should be Cinder Ella." The other sister already had her corset and blouse off and carefully pulled her long, black mane of hair over her shoulder so that it wouldn't get caught in her buttons. Anastasia had the curves that her sister was missing and her full bosom was a thing of beauty. Her nipples were dark, almost purple and her skin was white as milk and the combination of the two set off against each other was difficult to tear her eyes from. Ella's cock dripped inconsolably on her skirt. It had risen, completely hard and ready to fuck either or both of them. Her cheeks were so warm as she hoped against hope that neither of the dolts were worldly wise enough to know that Ella had something in her skirt that neither of them had.

"Cinder Ella," Druscilla joined in, "a dirty name for a filthy wench. It's perfect." Her red-haired step sister joined in and clapped her hands as she sat in the tub. Ella watched the water caress her tiny, firm breasts.

Anastasia stepped out of her skirt. She hadn't had any stockings on so once she pushed the bloomers down to puddle around her ankles, Ella's other step sister was nude. Anastasia's hips were wide and round and childbearing and her bottom bounced with every step. Ella was ashamed of herself as she thought of her hands seizing Anastasia's plump cheeks as she pushed herself inside. Anastasia had a thick, dark rug of hair that kept her mound hidden from view. Ella's had intimate knowledge of her though, with the sponge and the soap. She knew that Anastasia had inner lips that were almost red and a button that was darker red still. It would harden and pop out, almost like a small cock when Ella's hand would pass over, back and forth.

Anastasia sank down into the tub as well, behind Druscilla and held her sister between her thick thighs. The real torture was about to commence as she nodded, "Now wash us, Cinder Ella."

Ella wet the sponge and listened as the water dripped back into the tub, She felt it run down her arm before she wound the soap over the sponge. Once there were bubbles, Ella crawled on her hands and knees to the back of the tub to wash Anastasia's back.

The girls had a secret that Ella had discovered a month ago when her slavery had begun. Part of her wanted to tell Margery and see if the old hag would punish her own two daughters with as much sadistic enthusiasm as she punished Ella. The sisters used bathing together as an opportunity to touch each other between their legs. Since the first time, the girls had gotten more and more brazen. Tonight, Anastasia hadn't even waited until Ella was washing her breasts to pull Druscilla's thighs apart and fondle her red-haired sister slowly.

Ella was sure that if she told Margery, that the sisters wouldn't be allowed to bathe together anymore. Margery was intent on the two Duchesses being chaste and virginal in order to secure good husbands. That would mean two baths for Ella to perform nightly instead of just one and that was the reason that she used to justify not telling. Even though it was a lie.

Ella liked to watch.

Druscilla sighed and leaned her head back on Anastasia's shoulder as she gave herself over to her sister's knowing fingers. Ella swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on the feel of the soap in her hand. She squished it between her fingers but it wasn't like the flesh of thighs or bottoms at all. The rough texture of the sponge wasn't like a wild patch of Anastasia's thicket of hair. Ella was sure it was scented of her heat and longing. She kept the groan of want down in her chest. She swallowed it down to her stomach and let herself be filled with a new hunger as she slowly wound the soapy sponge back and forth over Druscilla's pert breasts. She watched as her stepsister's nipples bloom under Ella's touch.

The girl turned a beautiful shade of pink from her hairline down into the water. It was beautiful with her red hair. Even from her seat on the floor beside the tub, Ella could feel the heat that emanated from her lower lips as Anastasia found Druscilla's little pearl. Druscilla cried out in pleasure. Her head tilted up, her mouth open as she melted into the sensation of two sets of hands ravishing all of her lovely, secret places. The water sloshed in the tub and kept time as Anastasia's hips pushed into her sister's body. It looked as if she were bucking and riding Druscilla like an animal in the barn. At first Druscilla only whispered something unintelligible, it sounded like yes. She pleaded for her release and the echoes of that need clamored in Ella's aching loins. Ella bit her bottom lip hard to keep her own sounds inside. She was humiliated enough. No one needed to know, especially not her stepsisters. Neither of them needed to know that her male part longed to plunge to their depths and ride them both like a stallion.

Ella almost always had a bloody mark on her bottom lip after bath time. It was something to remind her with a little wince in the morning as she licked her lips, something like a delicious dream with a bad ending.

Druscilla bobbed up out of the water and thrust her hips forward. Her gleaming nether regions were in full view and only inches from Ella's ravenous mouth. Ella could smell her stepsister's drenched cunt. She watched hungrily as Anastasia moved her long fingers down her sister's swollen, needy lips to her entrance. This was a new kind of torture. Ella's eyes couldn't help but take it all in. The water dripped down Druscilla's body as if it were jealous of the fingers. The droplets raced to open up her slippery entry as well. Anastasia fucked her sister with two fingers, deep and slow. The water slapped with each movement and rose higher and higher. It threatened to spill and wet Ella. It would clearly outline her monstrous cock if the girl's spilled water down Ella's dress but at the moment, she didn't care.