Cinder: A Cinderella Menage Fairy Tale [Ch 1.][MFM, DP, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Fairy Tale Retelling]

*Chapter One: The Faerie Godmother and the Inner Sanctum Hookery.*

“Tonight’s going to be unlike anything you’ve ever dreamed of,” she said.

I turned around to pin the voice behind me, but I didn’t actually need the visual affirmation. I had worked with Titania for eight months now in the Inner Sanctum Hookery. There weren’t too many women “on the cock” as we said. — [You really have to get your kicks where you can, otherwise life will literally swallow you whole.]

“Why tonight?” I asked, not truly interested. “What’s so special about this evening?”

“Didn’t you notice that the schedule was particularly full?” she asked, with a wry grin on her face.

Titania’s teeth were extraordinary. They reminded me of sharpened crescent moons. Not the brightest I had ever seen, but striking and angular. Her smile made most people uncomfortable. The fact that each row of teeth was more symmetrical than other folk I’d seen only increased the attraction. I imagined often what it would be like to stare into those teeth spellbound — only to be devoured at the very end of it all.

Right about that time, Titania licked her ruby lips, and said something esoteric and haunting, likely for her own amusement.

“Tonight’s going to be unlike anything you’ve ever dreamed.”

“So, it’s Samhain,” I replied, pulling out a straightedge and making sure that my vulva was completely bare. — The clients like them young.

While my legs were propped up, and maneuvered a five inch razor dangerously close to my clit. Titania walked around behind me, and I felt her fingers brush through the back of my hair.

“Oh, that’s right,” she smiled at me in the reflection of the mirror. “You’re just a young, fresh thing, aren’t you? A regular homestyle girl. No wonder they like you so much.”

She tousled her fingers through my dark, thick hair. I had to stop shaving, for fear that I might cut myself. Titania didn’t seem to mind.

“All I can say is don’t bother painting yourself up tonight; the Prince likes his women raw.”

The way she spoke those last words caught my attention in the mirror. More than anything else, I was baffled by her appearance. She had finished her sentence with the word “Raw”, and still managed to punctuate the statement with a wicked grin. She noticed my expression, and offered me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Not that you have to worry about it too much,” she consoled. “I’ve seen you handle you’re share of men.”

My mind cleared, and I realized what she was saying.

“Why would he be coming here?” I asked.

The Inner Sanctum Hookery served high-end clientele. We offered a flair of theatrical improv, which was what separated us from the whorehouses in the Outer Cloister. The men who came to our establishment were wealthy aristocrats or the occasional merchant on a spending spree, but the Prince…

Royalty never came to our particular establishment. Most of the elite in our society refreshed their private harems on an as needed basis.

“Are they changing house staff?” I asked, doubtfully.

“Not quite,” she replied, finally letting me focus on my pubic hair.

“You’re relatively new to all of this,” She continued, “So I’ll be brief.”

“In a matter of hours, the Prince and his cadre of closest men are going to be here. They chose our place because of our novelty. Fair to assume they prefer not to ‘shit where they eat’ as the saying goes.”

“I don’t fucking get it,” I shook my head, dismissively.

Titania can be too vague for my liking, at times.

I stopped shaving with only one side finished. The sight was absurd, once I stopped to reflect on the matter. One side puffy and irritated, while the other was sparsely decorated with coarse, dark stubble.

“What’s not to get?” she asked flippantly.

Her expression changed to where the vicious mirth was now replaced with a dull, dry expression.

“Day of the Dead,” I returned, “and they are out for a night on the town. I imagine they are looking for a rough time without consequences.”

“Sharp girl,” she commented, stretching out like a cat in the middle of the dressing room. “So what’s the hangup?”

“If the men are going to be abusive, then why the rush in the schedule?”

She paused and looked at me with skepticism in her eyes.

“I see,” she finally replied. “You’re not stupid — Just ignorant.”

I blinked for a moment, and then resumed shaving the other half of my pubic mound. Titania was a cunt sometimes. I tried not to let it get to me.

“They tip?” I asked, trying to cut back to the point of the conversation.

“Not a dime,” she replied.

I didn’t flinch. If the whole point of their coming here was to fuck with impunity, there was no reason why financial generosity should be a part of the evening.

I noted the silence.

Titania was either waiting for me to come to my own conclusions, or she was waiting to be conversationally prompted. I let out a long sigh, and asked the question she was dying to hear.

“Why Titania?” I asked, finishing the final stroke against my womanhood. “Illuminate me.”

A grin appeared once more, and her eyes shone to match. I could tell that she was relishing in her knowledge, as much as my curiosity. Conversational power games always appealed to Titania. One of the reasons she liked me so much was that I was quick enough on the uptake. It was easy for me to figure out what was happening behind the scenes in a given conversation. She was a sucker for subtext and intrigue. While nobody was as quick as she, the Godmother did appreciate the effort expended to try and keep up.

“Prestige,” she replied. “It’s all about presentation.”

There was a graceful tone in her voice, as though the words themselves brought a luxuriate sensation to her tongue and lips.

“Because the Prince, ‘might’ be here?” I asked.

“Exactly,” she replied. “We live in a world of possibilities. The very fact that one of the men that will arrive later this evening could be the Prince means that our humble Hookery is coming up in the world.

“So, regardless if he shows up or not, the fact that he might essentially increases the stock of the establishment.”

She nodded, reminding me more of a tired school teacher, than a Headmistress for a Brothel Playhouse.

“Well, good for you Titania,” I offered, trying to conceal how little of a shit I actually gave at the prospect. “Seems like you deserve a bit of a free marketing boost. I mean, you’ve been in care of this place for a while, if I’m not mistaken.”

She ignored my statement, and walked over to the wardrobe to pull out a blood red scarf with sheer, silken fabric.

“Wear this,” she instructed.

Without question, I took the scarf, and integrated it into my sparse ensemble. The preliminaries to client work were not unlike the preparations for an improvised play. Our audience was interactive, and our roles were both Dionysic and Therapeutic. The Inner Sanctum Hookery was essentially high impact theatre at its most primal expression.

I suppose that made Titania the House Director.

“Well, you can give me whatever assignment you need taken care of,” I conceded. “I’ll let the others fight over who gets to fuck the faceless dick of our Leader.”

Again with a smile, this time one that seemed more predatory in nature.

“And that’s why it needs to be you,” she replied, combing her fingers along the transparent fabric of the scarf. “I need you to field this one precisely because you aren’t afraid to meet him on common ground. Everyone else would put on an act.
You know how much I value authentic performance.”

The last few syllables of her sentence were stretched out for effect. She caught me staring at her reflection in the mirror, my mouth hung open, and one boob hanging out from the top of my dress.

She laughed, releasing me from her spell, and I shook my head.

Titania was fucking nuts, irreverent, and lucid all at the same time. I admired the hell out of her for those traits, but I would be lying if I told you she didn’t frighten me.

“First batch shows up in a half hour,” she instructed. “I want you in a supportive role until I give the directive. Are we clear?”

“No problem.”

“Ah, ah ah…” she tittered, raising her hands in the air with a flourish.

I didn’t have to give her my full attention to know that she was making a play at grandiosity. It was better to indulge her in times like this, even though everyone knew that Titania could give a fuck about pretense.

“Yes, Godmother,” I offered to her expectant ears.

Another cackle of madness echoed down the hall as she left the room. There were others she needed to give her attention to, especially since the curtain rose in thirty minutes. I made the final adjustments to my outfit, and placed the evening’s mask over my face.

“The Samhain Fox.”

Looking in the mirror, I no longer recognized myself. It was always a bit disconcerting to lose yourself within the identity behind a mask, but its power could not be denied. Inhibitions disappeared behind the deception of the masquerade.
The Theatre itself was an old renovated tavern with a central stage, and grandstand style seating. Occasionally, there were private parties. Most of the time, the audience was at least partially full. A public display of theatrical pornography had the impact of providing the populace with an outlet for unmet desires. If you could not afford to participate in the show itself, you could at least live vicariously through the performance by purchasing a ticket, and watching the affair unfold.

Audience members were free to participate amongst themselves, which, as a rule, was more of a formality than anything else. Once the orgy began on the center stage, there was little that could be done to prevent the audience from engaging in their own lewd behavior.. The culture of open sexuality which emanated from the Hookery was lauded as,

“The Most Liberating Revolution of our Times!”

Lofty comments and praises were often made within the theatre itself.

Occasionally, if you were in a part of town with seedy inhabitants, and the group felt that they were amongst like minded people — you might hear something similar.

The alternative, and far more common viewpoint was that the Hookery was,
A Den of Villainy and Disease.”

Generally speaking, it was assumed that the actors and actresses who worked there were of the lowest social standing in the Kingdom’s entire caste system. There was a strange dichotomy in terms of how people tended to perceive me. Within the context of the theatre, I was a hero. Outside of that context, I was a pox on humanity. As a general rule, one could expect non-theatre attendees to treat actors and actresses with the public disdain befitting a leper.

Perhaps even more so — after all, leprosy couldn’t be helped.

There was no rational reason why sex work was treated with such obvious revulsion. After all, every marketing impulse that was worth a damn was modeled after the representation of idealized forms of sexual attraction. Hell, on a purely psychological level, the reason the shows continued to pay the bills every week was that the theatre was fulfilling some kind of niche within the social landscape. It was beyond me how people could embrace publicized cathartic sexuality with one hand, yet condemn the practice with the other.

Then again, I couldn’t possibly have a clear perspective on the thing. I was caught up in the belly of the beast. From my perspective, the fact that the Prince was showing up tonight was little more than an edgy publicity stunt. If he was sincere about putting his support with the Hookery, he should do it without the cover of a mask.

“Put your real face out there for all of us to see,” I muttered. “Then deal with the collective shame, which boiled over and spewed as vitriol to the rest of the whores.”

Of course, my internal moral outrage only lasted as long as these little rants. I also never performed them for the benefit of anyone else.

My mother used to be very outspoken against the double standards that sex workers faced in contrast to the patriarchy. She used to have a tailor business, making costumes for the women in different theatres throughout the kingdom. I suspect she had even worked with Titania before, but that’s not a topic of conversation I ever chose to bring up. Titania was sensitive to the subject as well, which likely worked to the benefit of everyone involved.

My mother always used to say, “If you find a mask that fits you, don’t ever take it off.”

The saying got stuck in my head, because I’ve always found the masks that we use at the Hookery to be absurd. It wasn’t that they were poorly made. Titania prided herself as being a “Connoisseur of Personae”, as she put it.

She purchased each mask from the master craftsman Renoir Bardo — an expense, which some may have thought was over the top, but for Titania, was indispensable. If you listened to her talk about it, the masks were the single most important part of the whole show.

Personally, I found it hard to suck a man’s dick while wearing a mask. The masks, like the sex, weren’t meant as a vehicle for my own expression. They were only elements which worked to serve a larger function, which no one else talked about. The real function of the theatre was to exorcise the demons of humanity — to pull the shadow out in a contained space, and let it thrash around for a bit.

The ultimate irony of the situation is that it was that same unrestrained, sexualized shadow that took my mother. Though, the force that claimed her was on a dark highway on the way home from working to serve as a costume coordinator within the theatres.

The men that took her life never came clean to the crime. The idea of raping a woman to death, and then ditching her corpse in a swamp was not a peak of stature to own up to committing — no matter how easy it was to post-humously slut shame the victim.

People blamed her for being alone, and they especially blamed her for being affiliated with the theatres. As though being in proximity to society’s release valve was ground to be treated as an expendable human.

Disappointing.

Non-Consensual.

Violent, and Painful.

Exactly why I joined on at the Inner Sanctum Hookery.

As I looked around at the show that was about to start, those old resentments melted into the mask I had been granted for the evening.

“The Samhain Fox will be taking your tickets tonight!” I announced, moving my body to the front of the admission line.

“Come in, Come in!” I announced. “Tonight, there’s something for Everyone!”

.:.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6cf0jk/cinder_a_cinderella_menage_fairy_tale_ch_1mfm_dp