Cinderella Undercover

Saturday, June 7th, 2008

I wrote this a few years ago as my own answer to the traditional Cinderella story so many young girls adopt for their life’s road map. It’s a little feministic, but mostly silly. It’s also a bit long, so be forewarned.

Cinderella scoured away at the bathroom floor as she watched her sisters and stepmother follow the coachman out the front door.

“I wish I could go to the ball,” she said, “I know I could win Prince Charming’s heart and escape my overbearing, hateful family.”

“I don’t think you really wish that,” whispered a voice in the corner of the room.

“Who said that?” asked Cinderella, looking around.

“Oh, it’s just me, your fairy goddaddy, Chad,” said Chad the fairy goddaddy, coming towards the poor girl scrubbing the toilet.

“I’ve never heard of a fairy goddaddy before,” said Cinderella rising to her knees.

Chad grabbed her wrists, and looked into her eyes, “yeah, well, you also want to go to the ball so you can meet Prince Charming. You’re obviously an idiot. But, I know you won’t believe me till you get there and your moronic wish is my command, so…”

A cloud of smoke engulfed the room. Cinderella was getting frustrated that she would have to scrub away the smoke damage, when suddenly they were outside with a limousine and the most handsome chauffer in the world. Looking down at her usually rag-covered body, Cinderella discovered she was adorned in a flowing emerald evening gown. The calluses on fingers were gone, suddenly replaced with manicured nails. And on her freshly pedicured toes sat stiletto heels made of solid emerald, that were somehow still comfortable. “My god Chad, you’re the most wonderful fairy goddaddy alive.”

“You won’t be saying that once you meet Prince Charming,” he laughed, “you sure you don’t wanna just go on a nice date with this here limo driver?”

“What’s so bad about the prince?” she enquired as the handsome driver opened the back door.

“You’ll see,” warned Chad.

Cinderella was lined up with all the other single women, waiting for Prince Charming to enter the room and pick a dance partner. A half hour later, the trumpets blared as a 5′ tall, 200 pound man stumbled into the room, obviously intoxicated. It was only 4 in the afternoon. “That’s Prince Charming?” asked Cinderella.

“Yeah, isn’t he intoxicating?” drooled the girl beside her, staring at his gold plated sword sheath.

Cinderella tried to tell herself that he might just be having a little too much fun at the ball and that maybe he really was a good person. A loud rumble seemed to shake the whole room as the prince smiled. A waft of pure stench entered Cinderella’s nose and she tried to hold down the vomit trying to escape her throat. Maybe it was an accident and he’s smiling from embarrassment, she reminded herself. He walked to the first woman in line, “you’re far too fat for a prince of my standing.”

Then he walked to the next woman and simply belched in her face before walking down the line some more. “Hey Mr. Ed, get a nose job,” he advised another girl as he neared Cinderella, realized what the fairy goddaddy meant.

As he walked closer, Cinderella tried to slip out of the line unnoticed.

It was to no avail, the prince grabbed her wrist, “you’re the one tonight baby.”

The smell of cigarettes and shit entered her nostrils and she tried to pull away. “You have to dance with the prince babe, it’s the law,” he laughed then whispered, “I like your shoes.”

They danced for hours and the prince got more and more lewd as the night wore on. Comments ranged from, “You’re pretty. I’d love to touch every square inch of that skinny little body,” to “you have such perfect, small feet, I’d love to cum all over them,” to “can you feel my boner against your waist?”

While she couldn’t escape him, Cinderella refused to pretend to be nice to him. Her retorts started getting increasingly snappy, from, “why can’t you dance with any of the other women? I’m sure they’d fuck you for your money and power in a matter of seconds,” to “I also have a great ass, and I’d love to shit all over your wicked little face,” to “no actually, I couldn’t feel anything but your sword. I bet you get whiskey dick so much you have to sneak it into bed with you.”

Finally, Prince Charming decided he needed to take a leak, he told his body guards to watch Cinderella while he was gone. In desperate need of escape, she realized she must get away from the guards. “I also have to go to the restroom,” she told them.

The men lead her to the woman’s bathroom and waited for her outside. Fortunately, there was an open window only five feet above ground. When trying to climb through the window sill though, one emerald slipper fell off. She didn’t care as long as she could get away from the horrible prince.

She found her chauffer outside and went home.

The next day, the prince announced he would search high and wide for the lovely woman he found at the ball. Cinderella was far from worried though because her jealous sisters, who saw her dance with the prince at the ball, would never give her location away.

Another day passed and Cinderella’s sister chased her up the stairs after hearing a knock on the door. “Why hello prince, what brings you here today?” asked the sister.

“I’m looking for the young woman I met at the ball,” he began, then looked up, “she actually looks a lot like you my dear.”

“Why yes, it was me silly,” laughed the cruel sibling, “lets get married.”

The prince squinted his blood shot eyes, “I was pretty drunk. I don’t know, you’re acting much different than you did before. I think you should prove it to me.”

“Why how sire?” asked the impostor.

“You left your sexy slipper in my lady’s crapper, if you are the vixen you say you are, it will fit,” he suggested. She removed her snakeskin boot and tried to slide her toes into the gemstone shoe. “You have the hottest feet I’ve ever seen. I want to rub them and lick them for hours,” the prince sighed.

The girl was thrilled with the prospect for free feet massages from the fetish loving prince, but her foot would not fit. “Fine, I’m not that slut you’re looking for,” she admitted, “but what the hell do you want with a troll like that anyways?”

The prince sighed and looked to the sky, “she was mean to me. Nobody is ever mean to me, they always love me for my power and money. She told me what a bad person I am and I’m willing to bet she’d be willing to slap me if we ever got in bed together. While no set feet have never made me want to orgasm as much as yours, I must find this woman.”

“Wait, you want people to be mean to you?” she yelled. He nodded. “Well fuck you, you disgusting pig. I don’t want to touch you, I just want a slice of your cash. You’re a pathetic, short, sleazeball trying to compensate with a blatantly perfect name. Prince Charming, the only thing charming about you is the free foot massages you were going to give me when you thought I was my sister.”

The prince’s face lit up. “No. Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled, “I just blew my chance at getting some real money finally. Shit.”

“I’m not excited that I found your foxy sister, I’m thrilled that you’re a much bigger cunt than her. And I’d love to stick my massive rod in your wet and sticky pussy. Let’s fuck…I mean, get married,” he said.

Within a month, Cinderella’s three sisters and stepmother all moved in with the despicable man and left their pleasant cottage to Cinderella.

“There’s on thing I still wish though,” she said at tea with Chad the fairy goddaddy one afternoon, “I wish I wasn’t living alone here. I really wouldn’t mind going to bed every night with that gorgeous limo driver.”

“Ask, and you shall receive,” laughed the Chad.


And they all lived happily ever after.

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