Pain & Pleasure An Erotic Cinderella Fairytale: Fairy Tale Erotic Retellings, #1

By Tiny Sparks

We open the doors of Cinderella's private life. The true degradation and pain incurred by her stepfamily. The pleasure she derived when pain was combined with pleasure by the prince.
The 'invitation' for the ball being a pay-off for her stepmother's debts, the fairy Godmother being a housemaid and the prince not as charming, make for the dark and erotic story of Cinderella.

However, a Happily Ever After is guaranteed with a nice payback.

Warning: 18+, not for the faint of heart, BDSM, Explicit scenes

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiny Sparks
• Release date: Aug 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201824006

Tiny Sparks

Tiny Sparks is the nom the plume of an author of erotic and romantic short stories.. She was raised and born in England but moved to Germany where she met her other half. Her husband and their special relationship are the inspiration for her erotic short stories.  The first two short stories have been raved about as ‘Fast and hot action. Can’t wait to read more’ and ‘Steamy read!’. The stories offer sexy fantasies with a personal knowledge of the BDSM world. She is active on Twitter and is happy to share her knowledge on there and her website.

Book preview

Tiny Sparks

© 2022 Tiny Sparks

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Once upon a time, pain turned into pleasure...

The gong-style clock sounded in the front hall, and I hurried down the stone steps to the gigantic kitchen in the lower part of the manor as fast as I could with a full bladder and barely there slippers. The blasted chastity belt my stepmother forced me to wear chafed my thighs when I squeezed them together while walking.

The few times I’d been unable to hold my bladder after she put that hated contraption on and locked it, had been worse than being forced to wear it. My skin had been raw for days after. Now, I timed my relief and was careful about when I ate or drank. Having to beg stepmother to release me so I could relieve myself was almost the highest humility I was forced to bear. She’d shown me there was worse.

At least the kitchen was semi warm as I had the cookstove going. Grabbing another small piece of wood, I shoved it in before pulling dishes from the cupboard to put on the breakfast serving trays. Every move I made was efficient and quick. I’d learned long ago not to waste time dawdling. Every second was accounted for, and if I wasn’t able to complete a task, it was scrutinized to the tenth degree as to why.

I went down my mental checklist, making sure everything was there. I didn't have time to run back and forth. Each day had tasks that were repeated on a weekly basis and, of course, the demeaning daily tasks. Since I was the only servant left, I had to do it all. Cook didn’t count, she was too old to do anything but cook and complain about her old bones. Thinking about how things used to be when my father was alive was pointless and did nothing but depress me. I didn’t have time to mourn the life I’d known then. I had too much to do now.

Cinderella!

My stepmother was up early. That was never a good sign. Quickly, I took the kettle off the stove and filled the teapot. Balancing the trays for my stepsisters and stepmother, I climbed the stairs.

There you are, finally. I thought I’d have to get it myself, Draconia, my older step sister said as I put a tray on the side table of her bed.

I bet she’s got to pee. Drescilla, the younger of the two, grabbed her teapot and started to pour.

I grimaced as the splashing sound triggered my need, like she knew it would. Ignoring their sadistic giggling was my best weapon. As usual, the best course of action was to keep my mouth shut and pretend I was unaffected by their deliberate and petty meanness.

Moving into my stepmother’s room, I set her tray down carefully. I’d been holding my need for the privy since I woke up and started to get desperate. To avoid punishment, I stood there, waiting for her to give permission.

She poured her tea slowly, and from her smirk, she knew how desperate my need was. Again, I stood there silently, keeping my face expressionless and holding my hands behind my back, not letting her see as I clenched and unclenched my fists. She wanted me to beg.  When I didn’t, she sighed with annoyance and put the teapot down.

Come here, she ordered.

From around her neck,she grabbed the key that would unlock the chastity belt so I could relieve myself. Just another humiliating punishment that was part of my existence. I was forced to lift my dress to give her access to the hateful contraption, and she took her time unlocking it, making sure to push on my bladder.

Once it was off, I squatted over the chamberpot, keeping my dress held high. Privacy was a luxury I wasn’t allowed. I refrained from sighing in relief as I released my stream and pretended my step mother wasn’t watching while she sipped her tea.

What came next was even more demeaning. Just one of the many chores she demanded I do since she blamed me for my father’s death. How it was my fault he died from a heart attack on the way home from a business trip, I had no clue.

Not long after the funeral, she’d stripped me of all rights as a lady of the house, demoted me to a servant, and dismissed the others, except the old cook. Soon after, she said that since I was the one who had caused my father’s death, I was now expected to ‘service’ her in his place. That on top of the other chores in the house. After the beatings I’d received when I tried to resist, my spirit was almost completely broken. Now, I just did as I was told.

Are you finished yet, girl? Her voice was sharp.

I sighed. Yes, Mistress. As they all wanted me to call them.

Come here then, we haven’t got all day. The damn tax collector is coming today and the stress is doing me no good. Relax me.

Here we go. I pushed the blankets from her body and raised her night dress. She opened her legs wide, and I crawled between them.

After my father died, she’d beaten me into an inch of my life when I refused to do this. Now I was a well trained slut. I stuck out my tongue and started by gently licking her outer lips. Slowly I sucked them in my mouth, carefully listening to her sighs to move on. I swept my tongue across her inner lips and dipped into her pussy. Her next moan was my cue to start with long cat-like swipes from anus to clit. I lapped her juices up as I’d been taught.

Such a good, dirty little slut, she sighed.

I knew better than to grimace as that would interrupt the rhythm she liked and would earn me an extra beating. I say extra, as she would find something to beat me for later today. Her biggest pleasure in life was making me suffer. My only defense was keeping her in the dark about how much what she did affected me. Honestly, I wasn’t suffering as much as she thought I was.

I started to enjoy the beatings after the first month. It was odd how something so painful could bring me so much pleasure. It was a victory over my stepmother in a way because the very thing she did to keep me down became the one thing I liked. Like loved above all things. Which made it an extra problem for me because I couldn’t afford to orgasm