8 comments/ 74550 views/ 3 favorites Cindy Heller Ch. 1 By: NoJo Hey, you! Yes you, dear reader. Are you looking for something really HOT? You looking for a little STEAMY ACTION? Well, then, you better stop right now. Go look in 'Extreme' or 'Erotic Couplings'. 'Cause this here's a FAIRY TALE, for us ROMANTIC TYPES who want something more out of life than SEX, SEX, SEX… Okay, that's got rid of the Jack-Off crowd. Those of you who are left, prepare to be enchanted, as I weave a web of words I call… ************ Once upon a time there was a young girl named Cindy Heller, who lived in a big house with a woman she called Mom, and two older girls called Kimberlee and Symphonee, whom she called her sisters. The house was high in the Hills. The Beverly Hills. Cindy was slim and fair with a pretty little upturned nose and was generally an Aryan type girl. Her Mom and sisters were darker, straight nosed Mediterranean or East European types, but this was kind of hard to tell, on account of all the expensive surgery and bleach that had been applied. How come she was so different to her Mom and Sisters? Because 'Mom' was not really her mother, and Kimberlee and Symphonee were not really her sisters. You see, Mom in her younger days had a job as a digger for gold, and while digging, she had come up with a real nugget, whom she had married. When the nugget had passed on, Mom had wound up with a big house in Beverly Hills, and a little fair haired girl called Cindy, who was not her daughter. The nugget's lawyers had given her the option of keeping both the house and the little girl, or keeping neither. So Cindy had had to live with her wicked stepmother, who already had two daughters by a previous marriage. And Cindy grew into a great beauty, while they turned out plainer than Gila monsters, which meant they made her life hell, and treated her cruelly. But you've seen the Disney version so you already knew that. Our Cindy was made to serve as their maid. But she was treated far worse than any maid; even maids are sometimes allowed days off for Ricky Martin concerts. And unlike Cindy, who was forced to remain butt-naked, maids are usually expected to wear at least ONE article of clothing. ************ Now, as this is supposed to be an erotic story, I will digress here and introduce a gratuitous Eric Stanton BDSM type interlude that went on between the four of them. One day in their living room Cindy was sweeping out the huge Genuine Antique Victorian fireplace that burned real wood, while her sisters were sprawling on the sofa talking. Kim was painting her toenails cerise. Sym was exfoliating her chin with a pair of tweezers. "Did you see that shmatah Melodee was wearing yesterday" said Sym without looking up from her toes. "Yeah," agreed Kim putting down the tweezers and grabbing the TV remote to change channels away from the News. "Lisa Kline my ass; 'Ross Dress for Less' is more like it… and did you notice the STINK! She must have emptied a whole bottle of Farragamo on her pussy and she still smelled like last month's lox. Hey, FUCKFACE, watch what you're doing!!" This last outburst was addressed to our Cindy, who had sneezed on account of the dusty fireplace, and also from being forced to go around the house naked with the aircon on full blast. The sneeze had blown dust all around her, and across the floor. Cindy sat by the fireplace surrounded by ashes, her eyes streaming from the cloud of dust. Kim stood. She marched over to the fireplace in her Christian Louboutin seven-inch stilettos and pushed poor Cindy over, sending her sprawling and knocking her little forehead with a clang onto the grate in the fireplace. Ignoring the even bigger cloud of dust this had made, Kim and Sym got to work immediately on Cindy, incensed by the sight of her infuriatingly cellulite-free ass, which had presented itself most fetchingly after she landed. Kim held her down with her foot, pressing one stiletto heel into the small of Cindy's back so hard it threatened to puncture her flesh, while Sym grabbed the brass poker from the fireplace. "Pity you hadn't got the fire going," laughed Sym over Cindy's screams of pain as she thwacked her repeatedly across her buttocks. "We could have had a branding!". "Go on, Sym, there's still some parts that aren't bleeding," shouted Kim to her sister. Symphonee let fly blow after blow with the poker, until there was no trace of pearly-white left of Cindy's burning ass. Then Mom came into the room from her work-out, wearing a perspiration-drenched gray leotard. "What's all this noise – OH! My Neapolitan floor tiles! You – you…" she was dumbstruck with rage. The three of them dragged Cindy from the fireplace into the middle of the room and laid into her with their fists, nails, heels, teeth. Even the TV Guide was used as an impromptu but slightly ineffectual weapon. Then they calmed down a little, and began on a slightly more considered punishment. Symphonee sat on her face, Kim on her belly. Mom picked up the poker which had rolled across the floor. She prized Cindy's legs apart. "Now Cindy," said Mom with chilling calm, "there comes a time in a young girl's life when she must lose that precious thing, which she has kept and treasured all her life, saving it for Mr. Right. Trouble is, my dear, the nearest you'll ever get to Mr. Right is this goddam poker. Now be a brave girl, it'll be all over, then you'll be a WOMAN…" "Hurry up Mom, she's tickling me…I'm going to pee…" Symphonee's warning came too late, as a stream of urine trickled through her knickers, into Cindy's mouth and down over her grubby, tear-stained cheeks. She choked and spluttered through her sobs. But Cindy's coming-of-age was to be postponed, her virginity being literally saved by the bell. Or rather the phone, which started ringing. It was one of Mom's neighbors, with news about the Big Party next week. Anyhoo, enough action, on with the tale… ************ So her wicked stepmother and two ugly stepsisters spent the next week planning for the Big Party. Cindy, of course, was not going, even though the gold-embossed invitation, which had been sent to all the (largest) houses in the neighborhood, expressly had said 'All Residents Are Welcome'. The invitation was from a young film-star called Phil "Prince" Charming, who had recently moved into the area. He was taking the opportunity to show off A.his neighborliness, B.his forty-room mansion, set in ninety-acres of landscaped garden, complete with a full-scale replicas of Rome's Trevi fountain, and London's Nelson's column, and C.his finely-chiseled body that just undergone extensive cosmetic surgery from Los Angeles's foremost surgeon (who had personally performed the fine chiseling). In addition, Phil's manager had strongly suggested that unless he wanted to lose the straight crowd altogether, he better find a young girl and announce his engagement as soon as possible. So the Party would provide a good opportunity to meet a few prospects. Cindy felt even more wretched now, knowing that she would never be allowed to the Big Party. You see, she was in love with the handsome actor. She had watched every one of Phil Charming's movies, which had been shown every day on TV for the last month, as a build-up to his new blockbuster, "Fowl Service" (about a tennis star caught sleeping with a chicken). No matter that there were probably fifty million women all over the country that had also fallen for him. She felt that their destiny was together. In her favorite of his movies, Scorsese's gritty 'From the Gutter', he had mumbled a particularly appropriate line: "Uh, I love you. You and me gotta get outa this shit-hole together or die tryin'". Ridiculous and hopeless as it seemed, she just KNEW that this was addressed directly to her, Cindy. If only they could meet… On the evening of the Party, her stepmother and stepsisters were out visiting the Fred Segal store on Melrose, in a last-ditch (and futile) attempt of Mom's to clothe her daughters as potential mates for the Prince. Cindy, left alone in the house as usual, was startled by a loud scuffling and clanging in the front yard. Coyotes? Burglars? Either way the desperate girl didn't care. At least being torn apart by coyotes or raped by burglars would provide an escape from her miserable life. She unlocked the front door and peered into the darkness. A grasshopper, that had been chirping noisily, suddenly stopped. Just in front of her, lying on the driveway, was a chubby little man dressed in a white linen suit. He was in the process of extricating himself from a garden hosepipe, which he evidently had just tripped over. Seeing her, he looked up and beamed. "Ahh, Cindy Heller, I presume! Look at you, all naked, just like the day you were born!" He stood up. He was very short, with fair curly hair that had almost completely receded from his big, round head. He looked like an aging cherub. His suit was grubby after his fall, and he tried to dust it off, to no effect. Cindy looked at him, wide-eyed but without fear. He was simply too unthreatening a sight to scare anyone, even the paranoid residents of Beverly Hills. "Yes, as naked as the day you were born, but a little bigger in places… My word, you have grown into a delightful young thing! …But I forget my manners, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mitchell Goldfarb, of Goldfarb Public Relations Consultants. But you can just call me your Fairy Godfather." Cindy eyes widened even further. "Are-are you really my Godfather?" she asked. "Yes, and I'm really a Fairy too -- luckily for you!" he giggled. "Yes, honey, I knew your mother well. Not your stepmother, that BITCH. I mean your REAL mother. She was a sweet thing, God rest her soul. Now, let's get you ready for the Party; I assume you DO want to go to the Party?" Cindy almost swooned with longing at this offer. She swayed, clutching at the doorframe. Goldfarb ran up and put a hand under her arm to support her. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, and he led her out into the driveway. Goldfarb suddenly assumed a professional attitude: "Okay, honey, turn around, let's get a look at you …". He considered Cindy from every angle, like a sculptor deciding where to start chipping at a slab of marble. "Nice, slim figure, real tits for a change… that's good, boob jobs are out these days… a little on the short side, maybe. Hey, bubbele, are those eyes your own color, or are they lenses?" "I – I've never had any problem with my eyesight." Goldfarb laughed until he coughed. "Oh, how MARVELOUS , what a natural, so naive, so PURE! 'never had any problem with my eyesight!' Wonderful! Now, what she we do with you? I really mustn't blow this: Keep it understated, keep it subtle Mitchell, think PURE. Pure like… like... like… oh FUCK, What's the metaphor? Pure like…" Cindy offered a suggestion. "...like crystal?" "Like crystal..." Goldfarb thought. "Yes, that's not bad, like crystal. Cindy, tonight you shall be the Mysterious, the Untouched, the Unbroken Crystal. You shall be Crystal Marshall, Undiscovered Movie Starlet. If they ask you who your manager is, say: 'I'm between managers right now.'" Goldfarb laughed and began twirling to an imaginary waltz. "And you SHALL go to the ball, and you SHALL dance with the Prince! PASTAFAZOOLA BAGELACANTA BIPPITY BOPPITY BOO!" And with that the Fairy Godfather waved his magic wand and Cindy Heller was transformed into… CRYSTAL MARSHALL. Her gown was a pearly Monique Lhuillier number. Her pure blue eyes outsparkled her Harry Winston necklace. She was Untarnished Beauty, clear and pure as crystal. Get the picture? Goldfarb led her by the arm, like the father she had lost but no longer remembered, to a White Lamborghini Diablo, and handed her the keys. As she revved the huge Flat 12 engine, he shouted to her over the roar, "One VITAL thing, sweetie…All this stuff, all your clothes, jewelry, the car, basically the WHOLE SCHMEER, goes STRAIGHT back to the rental company the instant the clock strikes twelve midnight! Remember, honey, DON'T stay after midnight if you don't want to plotz with the embarrassment!" Cindy sped off along the dark, silent sidewalk-less street into the darkness. ************ So. I counted around 2,000 words so far in this story, of which only around 350 or so have had any sexual content. You HAVE read up to here, haven't you? You're not being impatient and SKIMMING past the boring stuff are you? For those of you who made it this far, here's something to keep you going: SHE LICKED THE PRECUM, SLOWLY, DELICIOUSLY, FROM THE TIP OF HIS PULSING COCK. SHE SAVORED THE SALTY TASTE. HER NIPPLES GREW AS HARD AS A HARVARD ENTRANCE EXAM. HE STOOD OVER HER, ARMS FOLDED, HIS HAIRY BALLS HEAVING IN TIME TO HIS STEADY BREATHING AS HER LIPS SUCKED RHYTHMICALLY AT THEM, FIRST THE LEFT, THEN THE RIGHT, THEN THE LEFT AGAIN, JUST TO MAKE SURE SHE HADN'T MISSED A BIT. HER LABIA WERE SWOLLEN AND MOIST NOW AND SMELLED SWEET, LIKE HONEYDEW MELON MIXED WITH A FAINT AROMA OF SEA BASS LEFT OUT IN THE HOT, HOT CALIFORNIA SUNSHINE TO DRY… Okay, feeling better now? Shall we go on? ************ Cindy left the keys with the valet and stepped delicately and a little hesitantly up the steps of Palace. Even before she entered the hallway, heads were turned towards her as one by one the members of the glittering crowd noticed her great beauty. An uninvited paparazzo ran in front of her and fired off a whole roll of film before he was discretely ejected by Phil's private police force, to be brutally beaten to a pulp out of sight and earshot of the guests. She walked into the crowded entrance hall and through into the ballroom, as the toastmaster announced her as "Ms Crystal Marshall." And then their eyes met. (Cindy's and Phil's, stupid!) He was everything she had hoped he would be: Tall, polite and charming, strong and yet somehow as vulnerable as a little boy, with that long wisp of hair that was constantly falling over his eyes. And he? He, like all the others, was enchanted. In fact he got so enchanted his woody almost ripped through the pants of his Armani Suit. Without a word, he held out his hand for them to dance. They waltzed, and the dance floor slowly cleared, not because they were terrible dancers, but because the guests were so captivated by this beautiful couple, who seemed to embody the pure, simple magic that is Hollywood. Even the hard-bitten, cynical Martin Scorsese, director of 'Raging Bull' and 'Goodfellas', who was one of the guests, turned to his companions with a tear in his eye and said in a choked voice, "See, I fuckin' told you romance isn't fuckin' dead in this town!" As they danced, he whispered to her and asked if they could be alone. Coyly she looked up at him and agreed. He led her out to the starlit gardens, accompanied by the tinkling of the fountains and the fading sound of the hired orchestra, who were now playing a wistful and almost painfully poignant rendition of Busta Rimes' 'Gimme Some Mo'. They came to a little gazebo, and sat a while in silence. Eventually Phil produced an object from his breast pocket. It was a glass dildo. Cindy looked at it uncomprehendingly. "Do you like it?" Asked Phil. "It – it's beautiful, said Cindy, running her little fingers gently along it, feeling the smooth coolness. What is it, exactly?" "It's an heirloom", said the Prince. He seemed to grow pensive. "It was my Mothers. I – I never knew my mother." Suddenly moved, Cindy put her hand over his, while he stroked the shaft of the dildo sadly. She looked him in the eye, no longer shy. "I never knew my Mother either." The stars overhead seemed suddenly close enough for them to touch, as their lips moved towards each other, slowly, drawn by that mysterious power, Love, which is like magnetism, only more mysterious. ************ Well, that's nigh on 3,000 words, which is plenty enough for Chapter One. Tell you what, I'll do you a deal, okay, give me your 5 vote, and I'll give you the whole of Chapter Two, the concluding part of this tale. Vote 5. I need the incentive. Meanwhile, here's a preview of what's in store in Chapter Two! KIM'S LIPS CLOSED TIGHTLY OVER HIS HOT, SMOOTH HELMET AS THE CUM PULSED INTO HER MOUTH, SO THAT NOT A DROP OF HIS DELICIOUS FLUID WOULD SPILL. SHE GULPED IT ALL DOWN GREEDILY…. ************ HE TUGGED AT CINDY'S NIPPLES, STRETCHING THEM FURTHER AND FURTHER OUT, LIKE A CHILD PLAYING WITH HIS GUM INSTEAD OF CHEWING IT. SHE SCREAMED IN AN IMPOSSIBLE COMBINATION OF AGONY AND ECSTASY… Cindy Heller Ch. 2 Cindy Heller - Chapter 2 As you might have guessed from the title, this is the second chapter of the tale of Cindy Heller. The first chapter is already posted. And to be honest, it's a lot better than this one. Frankly, this chapter is just a contractual obligation. If you haven't yet read Chapter One, or did read it but can't remember any of it, here's a quick recap: CINDY GOES TO BALL, MEETS PHIL "PRINCE" CHARMING, THEY DANCE, AND ARE ABOUT TO KISS... Now you're up to speed. ********** They kissed. And, seasoned erotica reader that you are, you KNOW what kissing can lead to in these stories... Next thing you know, all kinds of disgusting things start happening. Fluids spraying out of every orifice... But not with Cindy and Phil. All that comes further on (leave that scrollbar alone!) For one thing, there wasn't time. While they were smooching, slowly, passionately, their tongues intertwining pretty obscenely, Cindy glanced down at her Rolex Oyster and noticed that it was 11:58 pm! In two minutes time she would cease to be the stunning Crystal Marshall; she would revert to being little Cindy Heller, cute in her way, the kind of girl that maybe you'd go with once, or maybe twice, possibly in an alleyway. But no more than that. "Oh!" she cried, and pulled away from his embrace suddenly. She jumped up and started to run back to the house. She took a shortcut across the lawn, carefully lifting the hem of her gown clear of the dew-drenched grass, to make sure she could recover the deposit from Neiman Marcus. "Wait," shouted Phil, running after her. He caught her up and pressed the dildo into her hand. "Please, I - I want you to have this," he implored her, trying to get his breath back. "But, you told me it's an heirloom from your Mother, you can't give me..." Phil interrupted. "She would want it this way. Take it, please..." Cindy accepted, and looked up at him, smiling tenderly. Then, suddenly aware again of the time, she bounded off like a rabbit, sprinted back through the ballroom, and out the front door into the night. But in her haste she'd dropped the dildo on the lawn. Phil picked it up and chased after her, but it was too late... She had gone. He stopped at the threshold of his mansion, looking out forlornly into the darkness, in his frustration whacking the dildo repeatedly into the palm of his hand. Suddenly he became resolute. His eyes narrowed. "I will seek out this maiden, even if I have to search the whole length and breadth of the City, excluding certain parts of East LA," he said to himself. He turned back to the house and rejoined his guests. ********* Three days later, the door chime rang at the Heller residence. Mom shouted “GIRLS! PLACES!” and ran to get the door, praying furiously "Please let it be HIM, PLEASE let it be him..." Most of the town now knew all about the mysterious beauty who had danced with the Prince, and how desperately he now sought her. He'd commissioned a 90 second commercial to plead for information regarding her whereabouts. He'd recruited teams of homeless people to post flyers. He'd even hired the mob. All without success. Still undaunted, he'd now resorted to visiting the local residents himself, and was said to be carrying a large billfold. And rumor had it that he was also carrying something else with him, something that would enable him to positively identify his True Love, a piece of jewelry, or an ornament -- on this detail the rumors became vague. Mom was prepared. Her daughters had been full-body waxed, manicured, painted, lubed and given a complete wardrobe change, and were kept on permanent alert. And though she was unaware of Crystal Marshall's true identity, some instinct made Mom extra wary of Cindy. Yesterday she had dragged Cindy into her bedchamber, thrown her onto the bed, and then bound her from head to foot in shiny black duct tape. Then she had locked the door. Wait, hold on. Duct tape? In the bedchamber? Isn't that all a little unlikely? Not at all! It's perfectly simple: The tape had been placed conveniently on Mom's dressing table by the author, who had been dying to get Cindy into another BDSM scene ever since the beginning of Chapter One. ********* Mom opened the front door to a crowd of about twenty bodyguards, accountants, photographers, gophers and various assistants and wannabes. In the midst of them stood Phil, looking grim and determined. Hidden among them, unnoticed by everyone, came Mitchell Goldfarb (a.k.a. Cindy's Fairy Godfather for those of you with amnesia). The Prince spoke. "My business, madam, is presumably known to you: Still I say to you now: I seek my True Love. My time is short. Bring your, er, - your - Oh shit, I forgot my line. SCRIPT! SCRIPT!" A prompter jumped up with a tattered script and read out tonelessly, "my time is short bring your maidens forth that I might find my true love." “Yes. What she said.” Sym pushed to the front of the crowd. Mom switched on the CD player, which had been already loaded with a medley of Burt Bacharach tunes. “May I present my daughter, Symphonee. Symphonee is wearing a blue and white Anne Cole bikini, cunningly offset with naughty Manolo Blahnik ankle-strap sandals, to give an overall effect that seems to say: 'Fuck me, baby, before I buy out your company.'” Sym flounced back and forth in front of Phil, jiggling her ample tits in his face each time she passed. One of the accountants attempted a grope but the bodyguards held him back. Phil scratched his chin. Could this be She? He just couldn't remember. If only he hadn't put away that fourth bottle of DP '53. He cleared his throat. “I admit you are not too unprepossessing a lass, but whether you are She whom I seek, THIS alone will determine…” And so saying, he brought out the glass dildo. There was a hush. So Sym removed her bikini bottom and lay down on her back, her knees bent. Phil kneeled at her side. The crowd pressed round. Now, I have to tell you, this dildo was a beautifully crafted piece, smooth as an icicle, and slightly rippled to the touch. But let's just say the guy who modeled it was definitely not a porn star. I mean any man would smile smugly to himself if he glanced across the urinals at one of these. So when Phil, after carefully rolling up his shirtsleeve, began to insert it in Sym's cavernous pussy, it didn't even touch the sides. Lowering himself till he was prone, so he could get a better angle, he pushed it in further. Sym tried not look puzzled, and refrained from asking him if he'd already started. Soon his arm was inside her up to his elbow, and Sym was visibly relieved at finally being able to feel something down there. “Ooh baby, that feels nice,” she said. “Come on, big guy, come deeper. Give it to me.” Lowering himself even more, he pushed his arm in almost up to his shoulder. Sym licked her lips. “Oh, YEAH! That's GOOD… You're so GOOOD. Oh yes, OH yes, OH yes… HEY WHAT THE FUCK!? DON'T STOP NOW YOU FUCKING FEIGEL…” Phil, who was beginning to get muscle cramp, had withdrawn his arm with a huge slurping sound. He stood up, rubbing it to get the feeling back and also to dry it off a little. He shook his head sadly and announced: “Alas, she's just like all the rest, the dildo's spoken. I resume my quest!” Mom grabbed his shoulder before he could turn to leave. “Wait, wait, Phil, Here's another one!” Without ceremony, Kimberlee lay down and spread her labia majora with her fingers. Phil shrugged, and got down onto his knees. He gave the dildo a perfunctory push against her crack. In it slid, with a slight resistance. He looked surprised. This was a promising start. He pushed until most of the shaft had disappeared inside her. Kim's lips parted. The dildo seemed to be gripped firmly. He wiggled it a little. It held fast. He snapped his fingers impatiently for an assistant. The assistant knelt down on one knee beside him and opened a toolbox, and handed him a feeler gage. The Prince checked the reading. “Hmm, one sixteenth of an inch average tolerance all round…” There was a murmur of approval from the crowd. Mom beamed with delight. Carefully Phil removed the dildo and handed it to the assistant, who placed it on a purple velvet cushion. He unbuttoned his fly and hauled out his erect dick, which was the exact size and shape of the dildo. To a spontaneous burst of applause, he slowly pushed his dick inside her, and began pumping away, visibly excited that his quest might at last be over. His lawyer opened a briefcase and took out a carefully drafted pre-nuptial agreement, and clicked his ballpoint pen. ******** Sorry to interrupt, it's me again. I just wanted to let you know this ain't one of those nasty stories where things don't turn out the way you hoped. DON'T PANIC. CINDY AND THE PRINCE GET IT TOGETHER. GOOD TRIUMPHS OVER EVIL. I promise. ********* Okay, so, what of Cindy while all this was happening? And what of Mitchell Goldfarb, that crafty little Fairy, who'd snuck in, if you remember? This is what: Goldfarb, once inside, had immediately edged towards the rear of the room, and while no one was looking, had dashed off round the house in a desperate search for Cindy. Eventually he found the locked bedchamber. Luckily Mom had left the key in the keyhole. He found Cindy tightly trussed up with duct tape on the bed, all her curves accentuated by the shiny black plastic, struggling weakly. Like a little glistening black mummy she looked, her trapped legs wiggling a little as she desperately fought in vain against her bonds. Her little mouth was hopelessly (OH boy. I’m a little excited. Excuse me, I'll be back in a couple of minutes…) That’s better. Where was I? Oh yeah… struggling weakly. Her little mouth was hopelessly trying to free itself from its gag to call for help. “Oh you POOR thing! Here, let's get this stuff off of you…” He picked at the tape with his nails but, as everyone knows, when you've been tied up with duct tape for a few hours the heat melts it into a sticky mess and it gets twice as hard to… WHAT? WHAT? It's common knowledge! Cindy seemed to be trying to shout something at him. Goldfarb managed to free her mouth. “USE YOUR FUCKING MAGIC! JUST WAVE YOUR FUCKING WAND, WHY DONT YOU!?” “I’m sorry sweetie, no can do. My magic operates strictly in the P.R. arena, we’ve all got to specialize nowadays…” Then Goldfarb stopped and listened. He spoke urgently: “Look, honey, we're running out of time. I think your Phil is about to get hooked up with one of your stepsisters. They brought a minister with them, so while you're tied up in here, your Prince may end up tying the knot down there. Sorry about this, but there's nothing for it…” So saying, he grabbed Cindy by the feet and pulled her off the bed with a thud. He heaved her along the floor and out onto the landing. They could hear the sound of organ music playing. After stopping for a moment to mop his brow, Goldfarb hauled Cindy down the stairs, bump, bump, bump behind him (yes you're right, like Winnie the Pooh, only more sexy) and into the entrance hall where the ceremony was underway. He screamed at the top of his voice, “STOP! STOP THIS CHARADE! THE GIRL YOU ARE ABOUT TO MARRY IS A FAKE!” There was a gasp. “Yes, a fake I say, and I can prove it,” he announced, letting go of Cindy's bound legs causing them to fall to the ground with a thump. Mom was surpised and really annoyed at this intrusion. "Mitchell, you little faggot, who the hell invited you? And why's this story suddenly turning into an Agatha Christie whodunit?" Ignoring her, Goldfarb continued his speech, pacing the floor with his arms behind his back. "You see, ladies and gentlemen, it was two days ago: I was, as is customary on Wednesdays, performing my weekly grocery shopping in Farmer's Market, and happened to spot Ms Kimberlee Heller, accompanied by her sister, at the meat counter of a well-known deli. She purchased a few pounds of finest filet mignon steak. Nothing out of the way in that, I hear you say. Perhaps not, to the untrained eye. "However, I chanced to overhear a snippet of their conversation which was most suggestive: As she took the meat from the salesman, she mentioned the 'Portnoy Gambit'." Several of the crowd nodded at this and exchanged glances. "Yes, the Portnoy Gambit, that famous ploy well-known to the legions of hopeful actresses forced to audition on Hollywood ‘casting couches’, long before Philip Roth’s (thanks, RF) literary masterpiece was published: A slab of liver or steak is rolled and inserted into the vagina, in an attempt to disguise the years of wear and tear." "It's a lie!" said Kimberlee. "Mom, get Weinstock on the phone. Now's our chance to sue the ass off this little shit!" Goldfarb was serene. "Not so fast. Here's another piece of evidence…" He stooped, and picked up a small metal clip from the floor. The clip had Hebrew writing on it. "This, for you goyim, is a ‘heksher’: A small tag clipped by Kosher butchers to meat as a seal of authenticity. I think you'll find, ladies and gentlemen, that Ms Kimberlee lost her Kosher status while her, ahem, meat was being tenderized just a few moments ago." Mom grabbed the Prince’s jacket by the lapels and yanked him towards her, shouting in his face, "Phil, don't believe him! He’s a slippery sonofabitch..." But the Prince gripped her wrists and pushed her away. He turned to Kimberlee. "Well, " he asked sternly. "Is this true?" Unexpectedly, Kimberlee immediately broke down, sobbing hysterically. She nodded savagely. "Have you any FUCKING IDEA how hard it is to find a decent man in this town," she wailed as Mom and Symphonee led her out of the room. After a few moments everyone turned to Cindy, who was still lying securely trussed. “Please, please, could someone free me from this stuff, after all, I’m meant to be the main character,” she begged in a small voice. Something stirred in the Prince as he looked down at the helpless girl. He bent, and gently stuck the duct tape gag back over her mouth. With his strong fingers he pulled away the section of tape that covered her pussy. Her downy pubes were cleanly depilated with a ripping noise by this, to reveal her little pink pudenda in all their glory. “By your leave, miss,” said the Prince without waiting for a reply. He trembled with anticipation as he pressed the glass dildo against her, pausing for a moment to stroke it lightly and rapidly against her tiny clit. Cindy lay back, calm and unafraid, trusting him completely. It fit her perfectly. Tight, but with the necessary degree of play to allow those minor changes of angle that make for a perfect shtup. But after the recent fracas with Kimberlee, this time the Prince took a lot longer, to make absolutely sure, sliding it in and out for a good fifteen minutes. And all the time She and He looked tenderly into one another’s eyes. ******** Well, I won’t bore you with details of the wedding. Actually I wasn’t invited. From what I read, it was a grand affair. Surprisingly, Sym and Kim didn’t do too badly in the end, either. Sym started going steady with one of Phil’s bodyguards, who had a pretty good side career going as a porn actor, where he was known as “Brad the Impaler”. Mom forgave Goldfarb, and actually became Mrs Goldfarb a few weeks later, after he showed her some tricks he could do with his wand – I’m talking about transforming clothes here. Kim started up a restaurant in Santa Monica, which soon became more popular than Schatzi’s with the celebs and stargazers. Specialty of the house was the “Steak Kimberlee”, which she would prepare personally in the kitchen with the help of her sous-chef, Nigel. And although Phil was often out of town on location, Cindy remained blissfully happy ever after. Especially as she still had access to the glass dildo, not to mention his Oscar. THE END. * * * * * Well, that's that. 6,000 words in two nights. I can think of pleasanter ways of giving myself RSI, but it's over now. Reading it over, I'm a little disappointed that some scenes didn't make it to the final cut, because they were unnecessary to the plot. Here's one: ********** Thursdays would provide the only glimmer of pleasure in Cindy’s awful life in the Heller household. For Thursday was laundry day. She would run down to the laundry room and fill up the big washing machine with piles and piles of pillow-cases, tea-towels, and sports socks. Then she would start the machine and wait for the spin cycle! On one occasion (it was the Thursday before the Big Party, so she may have been a little distracted), she accidentally overfilled the machine with soap powder. As she sat on the machine, dreaming she was waltzing with the Prince wearing a beautiful gown (her, not him!), she failed to notice the warm bubbling water oozing out the bottom of the machine. When the spin cycle started she shifted her buttocks slightly to increase the area of contact. But suddenly she slipped, falling face down into the soapy puddle that was growing out across the floor. Still in a happy dream, she slithered around in the bubbling slop, humming the ‘Blue Danube’. She glided across the floor backwards on her belly, legs wide apart, until her clit pressed nicely against the corner of the madly vibrating machine, which was still going through the spin cycle. She lay there, cupping her chin in her hands, her elbows occasionally slipping apart, for five or ten minutes, until the cycle ended. She sighed. She got to her feet and looked at the flooded floor. Luckily they had an industrial vacuum cleaner that could also be used as a water pump. She fetched this, and in no time at all she was busily beavering away with the pump, her pink cheeks flushed with the effort, singing to herself in a high little voice. Sweet thing. ********** As I still seem to have a little space left, there's room for a couple of those “hilarious out takes” from the cutting room floor, which often reveal a little glimpse of the off-screen character of some of the actors: ********* Cindy looked up tenderly at the prince. Her lips parted and she suddenly shouted, "You're standing on my fucking FOOT, you FAT BASTARD... Geez you need to cut down on the pizzas! FUCK you, Joe, I'm outta here. If anybody wants me I'll be in my trailer. Goddam fucking amateurs..." -- CUT *********** Phil reached into his breast pocket and pulled out...pulled out... Ok, where's the goddam dildo? Goldfarb! for the last time STOP DOING THAT! -- CUT ********** Oh, finally, thanks a LOT for your vote on Chapter One. I really appreciate it! But don’t bother voting on this one. I need a rest.