Cinderella's Rebellion, page 10
Tell her she must return to the story. For the good of the book and all the characters relying upon her.
He phoned Cinderella, inviting her over for a little talk. He tried to make his voice brisk. The small hurt in her voice made him ache.
Derek hung up the phone, feeling like a heel.
When she arrived, he sat her down in the kitchen, reasoning the solid table between them would create a businesslike atmosphere. She kept looking at him with those huge, luminous blue eyes a man could drown inside.
And then she took an apple from the wood bowl on the table’s center. And he wanted to die.
Derek nearly groaned as her moist, red lips slid over the fruit’s skin. Her perfect, pearly teeth descended into the apple as she bit. His hungry gaze watched as her luscious mouth worked over the fruit’s skin. It gave mind to all sorts of delicious things she could do with it to his various body parts.
He pressed his hands into his lap to suppress the raging hardness there and tried to keep his voice level.
“I didn’t know Cinderella liked fruit,” he remarked. “It’s not in your story line.”
She licked the juice from her fingers. “I love apples. It’s Snow White who has a phobia about them.”
Derek laughed.
“So you’re king of IsBn. What kind of powers do you have?” she asked.
Relieved at a topic that tore his heated interest from his mouth, he leaned back. “I shape-shift. Into anything. Rain. Animals.”
His dark gaze met hers. “Dogs. German Shepherd Dogs in particular, ones that mysteriously vanish from the operating room table at veterinary clinics.”
The apple fell from her opened palm. “You’re my Max,” she cried out. “Oh please, please, be my Max again.”
Shit. To shape-shift, he must get naked. Derek hesitated. But the pleading look on her face tugged at his heart.
He offered a reluctant smile. “All right. First I have to fully undress.”
Cinderella’s earlier discomfort at Derek’s brisk tone and nearly curt attitude vanished. She watched in delight. Slowly he stripped as she watched, hunger dawning in her as she drank in his superb, taut flesh. Biceps bulged as he chucked his jeans aside. Then Derek, fully nude, waved a hand and suddenly… Poof!
Max, the German Shepherd Dog, stood before her. Cyn felt her heart turn over with joy. She’d found him again! He padded up to her and licked her hand. Derek gave a goofy doggie grin as he shoved his nose in her crotch.
Embarrassed, she eased him away. “Stop that.”
“Smells delicious to me,” he said. Actually the words came across as a short “woof”, but she totally comprehended them.
“Derek, I can hear you!”
“In your mind. I enabled you to understand dog talk. I used my powers to open your mind to communicate with animals.”
“What’s it like to be a dog?” She studied him as his tongue lolled out in a panting grin. “Can you change me into a dog?”
“I can, but I won’t.”
“Derek, please. I want to know. Come on,” she cajoled.
He gave a doggie sigh-bark. “Okay. Just for a minute. But first I must shape-shift back into my genie form to transform you. Get undressed.”
Cyn stripped off her clothing and awaited expectantly.
He transformed back into a human and studied her with a slow smile. Then waved his hand in an elegant gesture, murmuring some odd words.
Poof! Suddenly she found herself on four long, sleek legs. Very hairy, no, furry legs. A female German Shepherd Dog, with a tan mask instead of a black one like his.
Excited, Cyn padded over to the floor length mirror and preened, admiring her shiny coat, the way her tail wagged.
Derek smiled. “You’re just as beautiful as a dog as you are in human form.”
Flattered, she glanced at him. “You’re very handsome as well in either species. Hey, I can talk!”
“Of course you can talk. Just as I can as a dog. It’s bark talk. We’re magical shape-shifters.”
Cyn fanned the air by wagging her tail. “Look! Air conditioning.” She turned, looking at her shiny, glistening coat. “I think I want a nice collar, though. Maybe pink. With little rhinestones.”
Derek smiled at her in the mirror, then poof! He shape-shifted back into Max again.
She caught his look, intent, doggie-like. His tongue shot out, licked his nose again. Damn the man, er, dog had a talented tongue. Derek approached her, sniffed.
His tongue lolled out.
Then he said very calmly, “Did you know you’re in heat?”
Oh dear. She backed off from him, her doggie eyes widening as she glanced down between his back legs and saw it. Growing.
Long, glistening wet. Pink and tubular.
“Put that thing away,” she cried out, backing away.
“I can’t. I have no control over this,” he panted, trotting toward her. “Damn, honey, you smell so good.”
“Derek, stop it right now, turn me back.”
“Talk about animal instinct. I can’t help it. Sorry but I must. Just hold still and I’m sure it’s not going to hurt.”
Yipping, she sidled away and then sprinted, but for his formidable size, he was far faster than her. Derek caught her and trapped her with his muscled doggie weight.
To her horror, she found her doggie self becoming very aroused, lifting her tail and assuming a submissive position.
He mounted her, his heavy weight resting atop her back quarters. Instincts she tried to suppress made her butt arch into the air, teasing him.
And then suddenly something very long and hard pushed insistently into her. Very long. Very hard. She shuddered with pleasure as it kept going and going, damn, like the Energizer® bunny.
Derek gave a couple of perfunctory thrusts, then sank deeper into her, feeling her clench and hold him. He threw back his head and howled. Ahhh, she was so tight, so very tight. Shit…it felt so good. So this was sex, doggie style. REAL doggie style.
He could get used to this. With Cyn, anyway.
He felt himself swell inside her, filling very inch. And then his body shuddered with pleasure as he released his seed.
“Oh, oh,” she barked-moaned. A sound of ecstasy?
He smiled softly, felt himself relax and went to pull out.
Couldn’t.
Aw shit.
“Uh, honey? I’m stuck.”
“Get off me,” she snarled. “And change me back right now.”
“I can’t. I’m…stuck. Good and proper.”
“Oh no! We have to stay like this? For how long?”
Derek racked his brain, trying to recall details in various fictional tomes about breeding dogs. “Probably at least thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes! You’re too heavy. You’re killing me!”
“Well, hold on, let me try something…” He lifted one leg, managed to twist around. “There. How’s that? Better?”
Cyn turned her head, her dark brown doggie eyes glowering. “We are stuck ass to ass now.”
“Yeah. Makes walking a bit difficult.”
“Good thing I was already walked,” she said sourly. “Maybe your neighbor has a bucket of cold water she can toss on us.”
“Doesn’t work. Only time allows my, er, swelling to go down. If you try to unlock us before then, I can be severely hurt.”
“So?” she asked sweetly.
“Don’t be such a bitch.”
“Well, we’re not just going to stand here for thirty minutes, are we?” She began padding forward, forcing him to backpedal. The sensation was most unpleasant. Derek yipped.
“Stop it!”
“So what are we going to do? Stand here for half an hour? Tonight’s a work night. I need sleep. I’ve got a business to run, calls to make, people to see.”
“Not like this. Look, honey, there’s nothing I can do about it, so just calm down, relax and maybe this will go faster if you’re not so agitated.”
Cyn wagged her tail some more. “You’re the grand Poo-Bah genie of IsBn. Can’t you shape-shift us back?”
Derek winced. “If I did shift us back into human form, er, we might still be stuck.”
“Oh dear. Not a good idea.”
“Actually, not a bad one,” he mused. Derek found himself rather liking the idea of remaining inside her for several long, long minutes in his human form. Perhaps not in this position.
“Don’t even try it,” she warned.
“Which do you want, sweetheart? To stay like this or shape-shift back and be able to separate?”
Cyn sighed. “All right. Go ahead.”
“Ah, I’d better turn around first. If I get caught in this position, I could be in very big trouble. Painful trouble.”
She felt him twist around again, his heavy furred weight upon her. Suddenly she found herself nude, in human form, on all fours. She felt two powerfully muscled arms clasped around her midsection, as if to hold her still. Derek was mounted atop her, his cock buried deep inside her ultra-sensitive sheath. She felt it twitch and harden.
He groaned.
Her now-human self clamored for more. Cyn lifted her ass and tightened down on him. Deliberately. She whimpered, pushing against him.
He began moving. His hand slipped down, caressed her belly, teased the edge of tangled curls covering her womanly parts. Then he cupped her and began playing with her, while he rocked slowly against her.
Derek increased the tempo, the urgency of his thrusts. Harder and faster, slamming into her, deeper, deeper, the heavy weight of his testicles slapping against her straining flesh. Her swollen sheath eagerly clenched him, caressed him, welcomed him.
His hands slipped over her now-perspiring skin, stroking and caressing. She arched and screamed and he felt her tighten and convulse around him. Derek released a harsh cry as he exploded inside her.
Exhausted, and limp with satisfaction, he rested his heavy weight against her. She quivered beneath him as he reluctantly slid out and lay gasping on the floor.
She nestled against him, damp skin causing their bodies to bond together. Melded in spent passion, they lay silently, clinging to each other.
Cyn raised her head, perspiration dampening her thick blonde tresses. “Can I stay tonight?”
His brain screamed no. His body said, oh yes. Derek found himself nodding.
They went to the bedroom. Naked, he slid between the sheets, feeling their coolness chill the drying sweat on his body. Sleep nudged him. His eyes began to close until he realized she wasn’t joining him, but wandered about the bedroom. She vanished into the walk-in closet.
“Hey, do you know all the ties in here are plaid?”
“No, it’s news to me,” he said, amused. Women. Nosy as hell. “Come to bed, honey.”
She emerged from the closet in nude splendor, hands behind her back. Tangled blonde hair spilled past her breasts. Derek’s heated gaze swept over her creamy skin, trailed over the soft, slender thighs that had opened for him so eagerly. Lust speared him again.
“Bed or sleep?” she asked with a sultry smile.
He glanced down at his limp cock.
“Something definitely can’t be woken.”
“Oh, poor sleeping beauty.” A radiant smile touched her lips. “Derek, close your eyes.”
He did so, although a nagging suspicion warned him his beautiful Cyn was up to some mischief. Something soft and slippery slid around both wrists.
His eyes flew open to see her fastening the silk ties to the massive bedposts. “Cyn, what the hell are you doing…”
A seductive smile touched her lips. Like a nimble ballerina, Cyn lifted one slender leg. A deep groan arose in his throat as he caught a glimpse of her wet, glistening pink center. Then her dainty little bare foot descended toward him. Her soft toes stroked his flagging member. Once. Twice.
“Good thing I’m not wearing my glass slipper. You might get a nasty cut,” she teased.
His cock gave a mighty twitch and struggled to salute the air once more, like a weary soldier.
Cyn withdrew her foot and climbed onto the bed. She stroked a long, elegant finger across his lips. “Shhh. Just relax, darling. I just want to give sleeping beauty a little wake-up kiss.”
Derek started to protest. He didn’t like not being in charge and not knowing what turning the next page, the next chapter, would bring.
But as she finished tying his ankles spread-eagle and crept over him, his sleepy cock suddenly woke up and announced, Hey, I like this.
Cyn’s blue eyes twinkled with invitation. Then she lowered her head and fastened her red, pouty mouth directly on his pleading, wagging member.
Said instrument immediately sank into bliss. Derek moaned in delight as her innocent yet eager lips sucked him.
He writhed and tossed, arching. The total absurdity of it made him cringe and gasp. The cinder wench was giving him a blowjob. Fit for a prince. Well, actually more for a king.
“No,” he groaned, tossing. “Stop, now, Cinderella.”
She raised her blonde head for a full moment, gave him a singularly sweet smile and replied, “Kiss my ass.”
Then she resumed her oral ministrations quite eagerly.
He hated being helpless, subject to another’s whims. But damn, her mouth, it was doing a tango on his straining cock in ways the women characters who served him never could. Not even with suction good enough to remove lint from two-inch-ply carpeting.
Her wet, warm, satin tongue encircled him around and around, flicking, tasting, licking…
He was going to come. Right in that luscious mouth of hers. Derek strained against his bonds. He gasped, begging her to stop, to not do this, it wasn’t in the story…
Too late. He arched and convulsed, spurting into her mouth like Mt. St. Helens on a bad day.
Derek opened his eyes to see her raise her head, a smug smile touching her swollen, red mouth. Her pink tongue slowly licked her wet lips.
“That was what I call sucking out the smokestack. Consider it a fair trade for what you did at the movie.”
Sweat beaded his forehead. “Honey, you can clean my chimney anytime. That’s an oral ministration technique I’m sure your prince will greatly appreciate.”
Derek chuckled as she playfully swatted him with one of the giant feather pillows. She untied him, and lay down as he kissed her and pulled the satin sheet over her body.
“Rest here,” he told her. “I’ll wake you in plenty of time to return to your place and change for work tomorrow.”
With a sleepy smile, she closed her eyes. In a minute, the sounds of her deep, even breathing filled the room.
Derek studied the perfect purity of her alabaster features, the sweet curve of her hip, the smooth roundness of her lush figure. A violent tug of emotion pulled him. He was falling for her. At first, he thought it was just loving plunging his cock into her tight sheath. Now he realized, with dismay, it was something deeper. He had gotten no further in coaxing her back to the story. Instead, each day he crept dangerously close to falling off the precipice of never letting go.
He sighed and stared at the ceiling. Just as he started to close his eyes, a shrill beeping sounded on the pager beside the bed.
Derek picked up the pager, scanning the LED readout with dismay. Simon.
He pressed a button and watched as Simon materialized before him.
“Your Majesty?” he asked in a panicked whisper.
Simon stood at the foot of the bed, looking more neurotic than ever. Protectively Derek tugged the sheet up to Cyn’s chin, making sure she was covered from view.
“Outside,” he ordered Simon. Dread kicked his gut. Something must be terribly wrong.
Derek quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. Simon wrung his hands. “It’s terrible, terrible news. Oh, I apologize profusely for disturbing you, O Great Gracious and Mighty One.”
“Cut the histrionics,” he ordered. “Tell me.”
Simon wrung his hands in a theatrical gesture reminiscent of the worst purple prose ever written. “He’s gone, oh, he is gone, gone, gone!”
“Who he?”
“The prince,” Simon wailed. “Cinderella’s prince has escaped from the fairy tale!”
Chapter Ten
Derek rubbed his left brow. “How did this happen?” he demanded.
“Sire, I hate to tell you…it was the book.”
“Book?” Derek frowned.
“The book on male sexuality. Er, the prince read it most eagerly. And he declared he at last knew who he was.”
“Explain,” Derek commanded.
“Er, ah, I tried to tell you, the book was a work of fiction written by a male porn star…”
“So?”
“A gay male porn star. It had illustrations.” Simon paused, looking thoughtful. “Most impressive illustrations of epic proportions, even for fiction.”
Horror pulsing through him, Derek jammed a hand through his rumpled hair. “How the hell did he get out?” he demanded.
“Er, he escaped by holding the fairy godmother hostage and threatening to stick her wand, er, up a certain orifice if she didn’t grant his wish. The poor godmother did so and now she’s had a nervous breakdown.”
Derek groaned.
“All hell has broken loose since you left. I’m all tied up in knots over trying to restrain half the children’s fiction group from bolting their bindings and taking off for the mortal world.”
“Just tell me where the nancy boy prince went.”
“He’s in Florida,” Simon offered helpfully. “South of you.”
Oh no…no… “Please don’t tell me…he went to…”
“South Beach.”
Wonderful. Where Cinderella’s destined husband would participate in a different kind of fairy tale.
“What’s he doing there?” Derek asked wearily.
“Ah, ummm, he arrived on the beach in his hose and princely jerkin and immediately was hit upon by seven members of the same sex. They greatly admired his legs.”
“Did you send a PrEditor in to retrieve him?”
“Yes, but the PrEditor returned, looking pasty white. When he tried editing the prince back into the story, the prince rounded up several aspiring authors in South Florida who kept shoving their yellowing manuscript pages in the PrEditor’s face. They even trailed him into the men’s room when he tried to escape and pushed their pages beneath the stall when he locked himself in there. He hyperventilated and had to return. Still on oxygen.”
