Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome by Candace Smith Page B

her mouth, he whispered, “I will see her happy, girl.”
    As terrified as Marissa was, her mind snapped to the logical conclusion that promised her a measure of safety.   She rasped out, “Can I attend you?”
    Cynthia was elated.   She stepped forward and curled the short hair behind the girl’s ear, just as her own mother had done so many years ago.   “Please, stepmother, may this slave attend you?” she encouraged.
    Marissa’s eyes welled with tears again, and she glanced quickly at Alexander.   The promise of pain was shining in his eyes, and she knew that the man was looking for a reason to demonstrate his sadistic talent on her.   “Please, stepmother, may this slave attend you?” she asked in a trembling whisper.
    Cynthia turned and said flatly, “You threatened her.”
    “No, my love.   I merely promised her that I would see you got what you desired from her.”   Alexander stroked his palm down his wife’s long tresses.   “I will see you happy, Cinderella, and if your new exotic needs my encouragement, I fully intend to make sure that she understands her new position with you.”
    “I love you, Alexander,” Cynthia smiled.   She was certain that there was never a woman loved and treated with such warmth.
    “Let’s get your Orchid washed so you can begin working with her.   It took you over ten years to get the proper results from the bloom in the outside garden,” he reminded her.
    Alexander reached for the hose while Cynthia removed the clamps and chains.   She picked up the bristled brush and soap and looked at the girl.   “Tell me why you arrived here with a soiled cunt.”
    Marissa gasped.   Cynthia scraped the dried brush up her slit.   “Why is your pussy crusty, stepdaughter?”
    “I… I…” Marissa frantically searched for an answer.   Somehow, she knew that the man who abducted her would tell this woman the circumstances surrounding her capture.   She considered lying and saying her lover worked in the building, but she was afraid these people could tell that she was not speaking the truth.   She hung her head as much as she could with the thick, chained collar.   “I was trying to get a modeling contract,” she whispered.   A small sob escaped her lips at the confession of whoring herself out.
    “’I was trying to get a modeling contract, stepmother, and I let a man fuck me’,” Cynthia coaxed.
    “Oh, god,” Marissa shivered.   The woman’s insanity was terrifying.   “I was trying to get a modeling contract, stepmother, and I let a man fuck me.”
    “Did you get the contract?” Cynthia asked.
    “No.   No, stepmother, I did not.   He laughed at me.”
    The humiliation in the beautiful girl’s voice was honest, though Cynthia knew it was due to the man’s laughter and not the admission of the sexual act.   “Stupid idiot,” Cynthia muttered.   She smiled and looked up at the girl.   “How could he not recognize such a unique flower?”   Cynthia had already learned that playing the girl’s ego would reap the greatest rewards.
    All through the painful, scraping washing, through Alexander pushing the nozzle into her holes and whispering “Good, girl,” Marissa’s mind whirled on the woman’s appraisal of her.   As insane as the woman was, it was obvious that she recognized Marissa’s exotic beauty and superior manner.   This conditioning of the stepmother’s constant reminders acknowledging Marissa’s potential would become Orchid’s comforting refuge through the sadistic training ahead.
    When Marissa hung dripping from the chains and the burning patch worked to remove the last of her pussy hair, Cynthia stepped forward and retrieved the horrid clamping chains from her robe pocket.   “You were naughty for running, Orchid, so you must be punished.”
    “Yyyes, stepmother,” Marissa chattered.
    “But, you have been quite obedient since you learned you were to be my special flower, so I will not attach the clamp to your