Twisted Princeses: Cinderella, part 4

Cyn made her entrance at the King’s ball and she was a true show stopper. The buzz of the talk died as she advanced through the hall, and the music unwound like a broken carillon as the musicians lost their cue, too intent staring at her. Finally the dancers lost their tempo and stumbled, and then stopped and stared, as everybody else, at the sensual vision that had entered the ballroom.
Cyn took long strides, her high heels clicking on the floor. Her black and purple gown was hitched up to the front, revealing her ankle-high black stiletto boots and her long legs encased in striped stockings matching the colors of the dress. The high heels made her hips sway, and each step caused her massive tits to bob, dark nipples peeking from the top of her cruelly tight corset.
She wore long black gloves, and her long black hair had been done into a severe pony tail that ran down her back to her ass. Her hair caressed alternatively her butt cheeks as she walked, hips swaying.
She noticed her stepsister Clarisse, at the center of the dance floor, in the arms of a nice cute morsel that had to be the prince. With a predatory grin, Cyn took the cigarette from her black lips and walked up to the couple.
“Having a ball, dear sister?” she asked, blowing smoke in Clarisse’s face. She ran her eyes up and down the prince’s body, lingering with a leer over his obvious erection. “Or two, I see. Nice catch!” she winked at her stepsister, and stamped a kiss on her rouged lips. Then she walked briskly to the refreshment table.
Ten minutes later, she was giving Charlotte a light as they shared a cup of champagne and some gossip, when the man she had been waiting for walked up to her. She exchanged a knowing smile with her stepsister, and got ready for the kill.

“So what’s the plan?” she had asked with a grin.
She had been taking tentative steps on her new platform stilettos, studying the way her hips swayed in the mirror.
“What plan?” the woman in black had asked, the feigned innocence on her face turning into pure obscenity.
Cyn had stopped and thrown the spent butt of her smoke in the fireplace. “C’mon, honey. You’re not setting me up like this for generosity’s sake.”
“What makes you so cynical, dear girl?”
Cyn had smiled. “The fact that you flushed my conscience and my morality out, you bitch!”
The woman had waved her cigarette holder. “Would you like to have them back?”
“And go back to being that stupid frigid cunt? Fuck, no!”
She had approached the mirror and observed closely her beautifully made up face, the shades of purple and black giving a dramatic depth to her eyes, the long lashes dripping eyeliner, the wet black lips. “I love the new me,” she had said. She had blown herself a kiss, and had laughed throatily. “So, what do you want in exchange?”
The woman in black had shrugged.
“Let’s say that it would be nice to have the ear of someone close to the throne.”
Cyn had grinned at that. “I didn’t think it was my ear you were interested in.”
The woman had blown a thin stream of smoke in Cyn’s ear. “But your ears are so sweet, my darling.”
She had slowly caressed the girl’s tits, teasing her nipples.
“But my cunny’s sweeter,” Cyn had replied.
They had kissed for a long minute, tongues playing eagerly, trading each other’s smoke.
“And what do you mean by ‘Close’?” Cyn had asked as soon as they had unlocked their mouths.
The woman had arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to screw the prince?” she had asked with a smile.
Cyn had lit up another cigarette. “Screw the prince, babe. I’m gonna put this lovely ass right on the throne, not close to it!”