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Archive name: cinder.txt (fantasy, rp)
Authors name: Lor Oldmann (alasder@planet-save.com)
Story title : Potted Fairy Tales : Cinderella

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Potted Fairy Tales : Cinderella
by Lor Oldmann (alasder@planet-save.com)

***

An investigation into the unlikely stories that make 
fairy tales so popular at Christmas. (fantasy, rp)

***

The Cinderella fairy-tale is universal. By the time the 
Grimm brothers told their version of the story, it was 
already centuries old in China, India and West Africa. 
There was almost certainly an Assyrian tale similar to 
it contemporary with the Epic of Gilgamesh - there are 
even traces of such a tale in the Epic itself. There 
are recognizable parallel elements in the Esther/Ruth 
narratives of the Old Testament.

'The wife of an exceedingly rich man fell mortally 
sick, and when she felt that her end was rapidly 
approaching she summoned her only daughter to the 
deathbed. "Always, above everything else, be a virtuous 
child," she instructed the girl, "for I shall be 
looking down from heaven and shall be watching over 
you." Shortly afterwards, the woman died and was buried 
with loving ceremony in a favorite corner of the 
garden. The little girl went every day to the grave 
where she wept and placed flowers, and remembered her 
dear mother's advice and was kind and courteous and 
good to everyone around her.'

This is how the brothers Grimm start their account of 
Cinderella. Now, I don't want to knock morality or 
ethical instruction of the young. But it can hardly be 
morally right to take a genuine original thought, 
preserved in the form of a fairy tale, to knock the 
shit out of it, to squeeze it dry of any individuality 
and realism, simply to make it do a job for which it 
was never intended. This is exactly what the prudish 
Jakob Ludwig Carl and his brother Wilhelm have done for 
posterity. But it is not entirely their fault. 

For the story of Cinderella lost its virginity, so to 
speak, as soon as it came into contact with the 
Christian world, first in Byzantium then in Rome. And 
once it was sanitized to suit Christian sensibilities, 
it was knocked unconscious, stripped, ravished, then 
anointed with sweet balm, reclothed in shining raiment 
and let loose on an unsuspecting public. In the 
original story there is no golden slipper, no prince 
charming and hardly any fairy godmother! The story as 
we find it in the original Arab collection of tales by 
Scheherezade (omitted for some obscure reason in the 
Richard Burton translation) is a rehash of the sterile 
Christian version suitably subjected to further 
grievous bodily damage to suit Moslems.

As a matter of fact, Cinderella was a spoilt little 
upstart. She looked down on the other kids in the 
neighborhood and treated the servants in her parents' 
household abominably. Because the family was rich, 
seriously rich beyond the dreams of 99.9% of the people 
who shared the planet with them, they thought they were 
above the law. 

Consequently, when Cinderella committed a felony or a 
criminal misdemeanour, which was every other week, the 
family name alone was more than powerful enough to 
wriggle the brat free of any legal proceedings and 
punishment. The little bitch was selfish, greedy, 
acquisitive, noisy, totally insensitive and ungrateful 
for anything that was done for her, indescribably rude 
and ill-mannered. But like most little bitches who are 
in possession of most of these characteristics, as in 
Hollywood or Bollywood, she was an extremely good-
looking little bint. 

There was never any lack of suitors after her hand, for 
in those dark, far-off days kids were married off as 
young as ten, and if marriage were to be delayed until 
a girl was eighteen people began to wonder what the 
hell was wrong with her. The most beautiful woman in 
history, Nefertiti of Egypt, married her brother or 
cousin when she was in her eleventh year, and Roxanne, 
the fiery Sogdianan princess became the wife of 
Alexander the Great when she was nine or ten. 

This last marriage was a surprise to everyone, not 
least to the grooms many boy-friends! Aisha was 
contracted to marry the Prophet when she was six, and 
their marriage was consummated when she was nine. When 
the future king of England, Edward I, married Eleanor 
of Castille when she was eight, it was written into the 
nuptial contract that he would not engage in full 
sexual intercourse with her until she was thirteen, and 
it is a well-attested fact of history that the Hammer 
of the Scots kept his word in everything! Absolutely 
everything! 

So, Cinderella had many suitors! So? Well, it has to be 
said that most of these suitors, well, all of them 
except one, were only after one thing - the fortune 
than went with her. She was definitely not an ugly 
bitch, and there would be no difficulty in taking it to 
bed and having a good fuck. But there was no possible 
way that what she had between her legs could make up 
for her foul temper and her egomania. 

Only one man, Buttons, was willing to overlook all her 
faults just to get under her knickers; he was even 
prepared to do some really hard work on finding a good 
trait among all her evil failings. Now you know what 
kind of people we are dealing with; they were all evil 
bastards. Except Buttons - he was a fruit cake!

Cinderella lived in this little word of self-
gratification until she was fourteen, and her father 
decided it was time that she got married. The girl had 
no intention of marrying anyone but the richest in the 
land - she was far too fond of her creature comforts to 
intend otherwise. And since it was a period of great 
affluence in the world's history there seemed little 
problem in securing a suitable match. 

Indeed, one was made with the oldest son (hence heir) 
of a family that was even richer that her own, and the 
engagement was announced at a party that would easily 
have put the worst excesses of Nero's orgies to shame 
for their niggardliness. It was at this party that what 
has to pass for a fairy godmother appeared. 

Out of keeping with the rest of the guests, she wore 
white rags. She told a rather pointless story about the 
lion who married a leopard; the marriage was doomed 
from the very start because, said this old hag, the 
lion roared and the leopard was spotty. And while the 
assembled guests were trying to work out what the hell 
that was supposed to mean, the fairy godmother screamed 
laughter and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

It was shortly after this, before the actual marriage 
date had been arranged, that tragedy struck. First of 
all, there was a downturn in the economy and millions 
of gold pieces were wiped off the stock market. The 
price of gold, silver and bronze went through the 
floor, there was mass unemployment, unprecedented 
flooding, the harvests failed, there was hyper-
inflation, general unrest among the plebeians, and the 
land where Cinderella and her folks lived went steadily 
to the locusts.

But troubles such as these never come alone. 
Cinderella's father drank heavily to numb the effect of 
his losses on the stock market, he became a bit over-
zealous with his latest girlfriend, who was a familiar 
entertainer and society celebrity, and put her in the 
family way. 

There was nothing at all unusual in that, people did it 
all the time, but not as the father of poor Cinders did 
it - in a public thoroughfare at the busiest time of 
day. Eyebrows were raised and allegations whispered 
when the pregnant broad was found dead in her sprawling 
mansion on the other side of town, and Cinderella's 
father found it prudent to disappear for a time. The 
family name had lost much of its magic.

Then her big brother was involved in a similar piece of 
scandal with an under-age kid (and in those days that 
was saying something!) whom he had also made pregnant. 
The conception was not quite so public, but it was in 
the bicycle shed during the elementary school prom. By 
a strange but predictable coincidence, as the brother 
was taking the kid to a doctor who specialised in 
childhood complaints, his horse accidentally slipped as 
they were crossing a river in flood. 

Both the brother and the little girl were plunged into 
the foaming deep, and try as he would, by another odd 
coincidence, he could not save her from drowning. He 
survived. And the horse! And it could not have happened 
at a worse time, for the power of the family name had 
worn so thin that people started to snicker and scoff 
if any mention was made of it. There was an outcry, and 
a demand for a fair trial with a public hanging at the 
end of it. So Cinderella's brother joined his father in 
obscurity.

So Cinderella was left on her own with a house to look 
after and bills to pay and no money to pay the 
servants' wages; so the butler and the chauffeur and 
the chamber maids and scullery maids, the cooks and the 
gardeners all found jobs elsewhere, where they could 
actually get hard cash in return for their labor. Bit 
by bit the dust gathered, the cobwebs thickened, the 
roofs leaked, the rats and the mice nibbled at what 
little food remained. She made several attempts to 
contact her fiance, but she found that every time she 
visited his family they were always away on holiday or 
on business and never left a forwarding address. 

It was at that critical moment in the narrative when 
things just couldn't get any worse for Cinderella, they 
did! She had taken to living in the 
kitchen/scullery/wash-house among the rats and mice and 
cockroaches where before, in the good old day, the 
humblest of the servants shacked down, huddling close 
to the fires for some warmth and looking for scraps of 
food left over from the frequent banquets. Now there 
was very little warmth and no banquets.

Suddenly, in the midst of her feeling sorry for 
herself, there was a knock on the door leading to the 
back alley where all the rubbish was put and where the 
poor hungry beggars used to come in the vain hope of 
finding a crust of bread. She peeped out and saw some 
of the former servants.

"Ah, good! They have taken pity on me and have come to 
serve me and minister unto my needs." The poor bitch 
was still living in a fantasy fairy tale world of make-
believe. It did not strike her as unusual that they 
were all hunky males who were outside the door and the 
fumes penetrating the woodwork were alcoholic rather 
than charitable. "I shall let them in and forgive them 
for their abandonment of me." Boy! Was she to learn the 
meaning of abandonment! 

Once inside the house the men pretended to make 
obeisance to her as they went through the motions of 
deep curtseying, bowing and scraping. They kissed her 
hand daintily, and her feet, which she considered 
rather impudent and improper. They danced around her 
and sang rather naughty songs. It finally penetrated 
her calloused brain that their intentions were not 
entire altruistic, nor were they honorably respectful 
when one of the men slipped his hand inside her shabby 
dress and began to maul her tits. Another guy kissed 
her on the mouth and filled her maw with tongue, while 
a third hauled up her skirts and licked her pussy. 

When she finally understood what was happening, she 
protested with flailing arms and legs and tried to 
wriggle free. The biggest of the assailants, a man who 
had previously been the family coachman, gripped her 
throat and smashed a fist into her face. She lost 
consciousness. He lifted her and threw her across the 
kitchen table. He ripped the remnants of her clothing 
away form her front.

"Now, who'll pay me a copper or two for the privilege 
of popping this little cherry?" He laughed like Jasper 
in a school melodrama. "We'll start the bidding at..."

"Get lost!" rejoined one of his companions. "Like her 
cherry! She lost it years ago when she was eight to 
Prince.. Prince.What was his name? It's on the tip of 
my tongue. Prince!

"Charming!" exclaimed another intruder. "These rich 
buggers ain't got no sense of right and wrong." He 
wiped the slaver from his toothless jaw. "Let's just 
fuck her!"

And so they did. Cinderella lying across the kitchen 
table was cruelly violated and each man in turn emptied 
the day's production of semen into her aching void. One 
man, after the second round, went to the door and 
whistled for the dogs of the district to come and share 
the goodies.

Poor, poor Cinderella lost consciousness again and 
again and woke up with the breaking of the new day. 
Amid the cold ashes in the fireplace, she wept for the 
glories that were now long gone, and for the burning 
pain between her legs and in her belly and her butt.

Now Buttons enters the story, and the kitchen basement. 
The nut had always fancied the ill-mannered little 
tart, and even forgave her frequent jibes and insults 
whenever he had tried to be friendly in the distant 
past. In a kind of joke she once told him that she 
could never marry him because he was not nearly rich 
enough even to pay for her face rouge. She told him to 
go away and make himself the richest man in the world. 
And, being the nut he was, he did exactly what she 
commanded - for her wish was his command, and all that 
shit!

He now took Cinderella in his arms and kissed all the 
sore bits. Much more importantly, for her, he paid off 
all her family debts, refurbished the house, bathed her 
in scented oils, dressed her in the finest silks and 
gave her the sweetest and most expensive foods, and 
asked for her hand in marriage! Of course she agreed 
instantly. Christ! What the fuck do you think she would 
do? So they were married right away, since the laws of 
the land were not quite so strict in those far-off 
days. 

A funny thing happened during the wedding festivities: 
this old crone appeared from nowhere in a puff of smoke 
and told a rather silly story about a lion that would 
marry a leopard (she had a limited repertoire) then 
laughed hysterically and went, as she had come, with a 
wave of her wand and in a puff of smoke. The guests 
were too pissed out of their minds to notice; at best 
some of them thought it was part of the cabaret and 
dismissed it as a second rate rubbishy turn. 

They applauded, however, when Buttons carried his bride 
off to the bridal chamber for the traditional three 
days and three nights of mad passion. He had her: back, 
front and sideways. To quote a certain Roman historian 
(referring to a certain emperor's wife): if she had had 
more orifices, he would have had them too! He surfaced 
to smoke the odd joint before getting on with the 
business of being married to one really hot bitch.

Now, after all that she had been through, we should not 
be surprised if the girl had learned from her 
experiences and had decided to be a dutiful wife and a 
considerate mistress to her servants. But this is the 
story as it was told long before the Grimm brothers got 
their clinically sterile fingers on it. 

The fact is, once restored to power, Cinderella became 
ten times worse than she had been before. She beat the 
hell out of the weaker servants, she complained about 
everything and everyone, and appreciated nothing that 
was done for her. But having acquired a taste for cock 
after that gang bang in the kitchen, she started 
spreading it around.

She slept (or rather she didn't get a wink of sleep) 
with the butler and the other menservants, their sons 
and brothers and fathers, the butcher (who knew quality 
meat), the mailman, any Tom, Ted or Harry who had a 
dick! She also had a liking for those boyfriends with 
dogs! And all this time Buttons thought of himself as 
the luckiest man in the entire world. 

After all he was extremely wealthy, had his health, a 
beautiful house, servants to run at his beck and call, 
he had a beautiful wife and three wonderful children - 
admittedly none of them looked the least bit like him; 
as a matter of fact, two were black - he wondered about 
that - and one had a distinct oriental appearance, 
whereas he was pure Nordic stock: fair-haired, blue-
eyed, tall, firm jaw, muscle-bound and not very bright. 
His wife was economical and very kind-hearted; several 
times she had been found in bed with a servant to save 
on the expense of heating or buying extra bedding for 
guests or the staff. 

She was so kind-hearted that she often took the odd 
stray dog to bed with her to give it some pleasure and 
loving in an otherwise bleak existence. It was a pity 
about those blinding headaches she had been having. But 
we can't have everything all the time, and all things 
considered life had been pretty good to them.

When the trade cycle took another turn for the worse, 
(or was it an invasion of barbarian tribes from the 
north?), Buttons found himself without a bent cent. He 
had mounting debts and hounding creditors. His wife was 
on holiday when disaster struck and no matter how hard 
he tried he could not seem to get in touch with her. 
When the truth finally dawned: that she was off with 
another man, other men to be cruelly correct, he 
decided that enough was enough and that there was only 
one honorable way out. So he became a male prostitute.

Cinderella, meanwhile, was jazzing it up as if there 
were no tomorrows, without paying particular attention 
to her bank balance. And as the cash became scarcer, 
she found that the friends became fewer. And so it came 
to pass that in the last days, she found herself again 
penniless and without a friend. Like her husband, she 
sought an alternative life style, and decided to spread 
it around again, but this time in return for a token 
payment or a crust of bread. To her surprise, she 
discovered that no-one wanted it.

"Fuck off, you worn-out old crone," she was told by the 
local whore-master. "Who the hell do you think is going 
to pay good readies to fuck an old dried-up bag like 
you?"

"Yes, off with you, you unmitigated piece of trash, off 
we say!" echoed the populace. Even the dogs ran for 
their lives when she appeared.

And so, sad at heart, with tears in her eyes, poor 
Cinderella turned her footsteps homeward. She would 
seek out dearest Buttons, and tell him how much she 
loved him, and would forgive him his shortcomings and 
give him all the encouragement he required to become 
rich again and they could live in their grand house and 
eat the finest foods and dress in the purest silks and 
beat the hell out of the servants!

She never did find Buttons. But she never could get out 
of her mind the story told by the fairy godmother on 
two separate occasions. What was it now? Something 
about a lion and a leopard. The lion was a lazy bugger 
that scavenged a lot more than it killed, and the 
leopard never did change its spots.

'And a dove came and settled on her shoulder and sang a 
beautiful song, and when it had finished its song they 
turned homeward.' This is how the Grimm brothers end 
their version of the story.

Sad! For the poor old bitch had no home to go back to! 
Just memories to fall back on, and for the life of her 
and for the rest of her life, she could not find any 
fault in herself - for all the evil that had befallen 
her, other people were to blame! For of such stuff 
fairy tales are told!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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