Cinderella and Her Stepbrothers

Inside her manor, the dusk crept in, joining her weeping. Ella held her father's hand; she didn't want to let go of his warmth. But no matter how long she gripped it, it became colder and colder. Her father lay in bed, all pale, his mouth slightly open.

"Let him rest in peace," said her stepmother. Dark-haired and sharp-nosed, she was a beauty even in her late thirties. But the dryness in her voice.... Ella wished it was the pretense of someone who had just lost her husband.

"Child, everyone has to leave. Sooner or later. Come, my dear, stop crying. This wasn't your first time mourning; you already did so for your mother, and it's not my first time mourning a spouse, either."

Ella's stepmother had indeed married twice. Her sons from the previous marriage, Rhys and Reynard, stood by the door.

Rhys was twenty-two, dark-haired and handsome. Reynard, at twenty, was handsome as well, taking after their mother.

Their gaze focused at Ella, however, wasn't one of sadness, but... lecherous. She felt her blush creep in,how audacious,uncomfortable with their presence. Now that her father was gone, who would protect her in the household?

Even when her father was still around, Rhys would sit perfectly at the dinner table, but his legs would wander aside, brushing against Ella's shoes. While Reynard... Ella sighed. He even dared to walk into her room, pretending to ask her for a book.

After the funeral, drab and brief, with only a few relatives attending, Ella and her stepfamily went home. The four of them rode inside the carriage in silence. The tree branches, like skeleton fingers, passed by as she looked out the window.

"My dear, I believe we should let Mrs. May go," said her stepmother. "She has been in service since you were a little girl. Wouldn't it be time to let her enjoy a bit of retirement with her loved ones? Besides, you must understand that your father's severance pay can no longer afford a housekeeper."

Her father, a baronet, was merely the king's officer, responsible for collecting national taxes.

Ella choked and kept her tears from falling. "Yes... Mother."

She had just lost her father;now she'd have to lose Mrs. May, too?

"Ouch." The carriage rattled, and her musings were interrupted when Rhys, who sat beside her, stepped on her shoe, but her dark mourning gown covered what he had done beneath.

"Yes, Mother, I understand." Ella didn't have the strength to argue. It was a long day, after all, and she had many things to be concerned about: Rhys's shoes and Reynard's leering gaze, which made her warm and uncomfortable. She just wished to get out of the carriage soon.

Merely one day after the funeral, her stepmother found Ella in her room--the only space that still felt truly hers--she was wearing a yellow dress, as yesterday's clothes were now in the laundry room.

"Such a bright color, my dear," the stepmother said, sweeping into the room, "too bright for someone who's in mourning, don't you think?"

"Yes, but this is the only dress I have."

"Hm, I believe it won't be suitable for your new duties."

"My duties'"

"Yes, have you already forgotten what we had agreed on yesterday? To let go of Mrs. May?"

"But... does it have to be today?" Ella's gaze was pleading at her stepmother, as she had not finished the embroidered handkerchief for Mrs. May.

"My dear, I wished to help too with the chores, but now I am attending the noblewomen's meetings. I intend to find suitable matches for Rhys and Reynard. They are, after all, of a marriageable age."

Ella only nodded.

She paused, watching Ella closely. "And if they marry well, it will benefit you too, won't it? You will get a generous allowance, more than what your father gave, and a future. Surely, some of their spouses' relatives are at a marriageable age too. For you."

"But Mother, I'm only eighteen years old."

Her stepmother's eyes, however, scoured the vanity table. "But as you know, finding such matches requires gold."

"Yes, of course." Ella clenched her dress.

Without asking her permission, her stepmother strode to the vanity table and slid the jewelry box open. She gazed at Ella's few necklaces and rings--trinkets from her mother and father--and took them all along with the boxes.

"And these," she said, her fingers raking across the silk and lace of Ella's night gown her father had paid for. "Pack these up in that luggage. We'll sell them, too, as we need gold for the wedding."

"I... will prepare them, Mother." The daylight theft had happened even without her stepmother's harsh words. With her jewelry gone, Ella paced the room and stuffed everything luxurious from her childhood into the dusty luggage.

She only wanted both her stepbrothers gone.

"Now for your new uniform--Mrs. May, please come in." The stepmother turned, calling Mrs. May. She rushed through the hall with a carpetbag clutched in her hand.

"Mrs. May, before you leave, pass your old work dress to Ella; she will be needing it."

Mrs. May hurried in, her kind face and eyes puffed, holding back her tears.

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. May." Ella hugged her, the person who had raised her since childhood. As her mother was always sickly after giving birth, it was Mrs. May who cared for her.

Mrs. May took out the drab uniform with a white apron, placing it over Ella's arms, whispering into her ear, "Take care, my dearest. Don't let them break you."

She looked past Ella's shoulder, and as the stepmother was distracted, finding any hidden valuables, Mrs. May pressed a folded piece of paper into Ella's hand--"My address in the village. In case you need me."

"Yes, thank you very much for everything." Ella whispered back.

The stepmother turned, and Mrs. May trudged down the stairs. Ella gripped the note and slipped it into her sleeves. Without her caretaker, she's all alone now...

"What's this?"

The stepmother appeared beside her. Ella tried to hide her hand, but it was useless. The stepmother seized the paper, and then, without a glance, she tore it to pieces, all of it scattered on the floor.

"Clean it up. You are a grown woman now. By eighteen years old you must learn to take care of your own mess."

Ella glared at her but bent her knees to pick up the pieces, in the hope she could put it back together later.

"Do not be so foolish as to think Mrs. May would care for you, my dear," her stepmother snapped. "We are your only family now..."

Ella wouldn't argue. "Family," or not, is a label people easily slap on one another.

"Yes... Mother."

She gathered the last piece stuck under the door as her stepmother made one last remark. "And do not seduce your brothers while I'm away. It will be harder for me to find you a match; surely no groom would want a deflowered bride."

Ella's face was all red from the insult, but when her stepmother's rustling of a gown passed, she heard a cough outside her room.

Rhys stood in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe, watching her. His gaze traced the top of her hair down to her chest.

"Would you be so kind as to leave me alone?" She couldn't take such brazenness any longer, striding toward the window, but her stepmother's carriage had already rolled past the front gate.

"Alone?" Rhys said, grinning. "Have you forgotten what Father had said before he left us, 'Take care of your sister'?"

"I am no longer a child. I can take care of myself just fine." In fact, her father met his end from a stroke during her eighteenth birthday celebration.

"Yes. Yes. But a promise is a promise. It's words between men; you wouldn't understand."

Ella stepped out, feeling foolish to argue with Rhys for such absurd reasoning, but he blocked her way, and through the little gaps, Reynard's figure joined in.

"Ella, I have found the book I've been looking for." He said, waving at her. "But there were a few things I did not understand, as the picture was blurred."

"Get out!" Ella backed down into her room, in her yellow dress. The pieces of paper she had just gathered, that from Mrs. May, were again scattered on the floor, along with the maid uniform and its set apron.

The two of them looked at each other, ruffling their dark hair.

"She misunderstood us."

"Yes, I believe so."

Rhys entered and picked up the uniform, grinning, "My, my, isn't this a bit too large for Ella?"

"Well, it seems so. I can't be sure," said Reynard, "she must fit it herself."

"Yes, she could change her own clothes."

"Out," said Ella. It seemed her brothers were talking only to themselves. She felt their presence had grown feral--predators who couldn't wait to have a taste of her.

"Why? Mother will return soon, and we still haven't started any of the chores."

"Ella, you're a smart girl. Let's get over it; we'll help you too. Or would you prefer still tidying up everything yourself when Mother steps in?"

"I won't do anything you want!" Ella shouted, tearing in frustration. They were her brother's in name only. "Such a shameful request--how can you live with yourself?"

"Why, dear sister, we just want to help you change. There's nothing shameful about it. Yes, if it were someone else's daughter, but you are one of us."

"We'll keep it in the family. Our secrets." Said Rhys, pressing his index fingers to his lips.

"Start with the uniform. Do you need help?" Reynard was already an inch before her; his book fell, and he crouched at Ella's feet.

"Hurry up, Mother will return soon."

Ella tried to break through, but they blocked her way.

"Oh, what's this?" Reynard collected Mrs. May's piece of paper and passed it to Rhys.

"No! It's mine." Ella shouted. She didn't care when the stepmother took everything, but the address was hers. Her precious.

"I'll give it back," said Rhys, dodging Ella's fingers reaching for his clutch, "after you do a good job as our housekeeper."

But Ella refused to cry, "I will clean everything in this dress."

"Oh well." Rhys stepped back, and Reynard followed. Her dark-haired brothers had finally left her alone.

Ella started cleaning the corridor; she dusted all the pictures, just like she had helped Mrs. May. Their family portrait felt odd, as if it were torn in half. Her stepmother, Rhys, and Reynard were all dark-haired, while she and her father were brunette.

Then she trudged downstairs and began to sweep the main hall. She bent down to polish the floor, as mud from the funeral site yesterday had marred the tiles.

But as she was busy scrubbing the stains, a set of polished shoes approached her, and she looked up.Rhys.He kicked her bucket of water--

"Pardon."

"What have you done?" Ella was soaked, and so was her yellow dress, the only dress she had left.

"I'll help you clean up." Rhys took off his shoes and rolled his sleeves. He bent down, just like her, and began wiping the floor. But Ella rose up, as she must change her dress.

In her room, there was nothing else but Mrs. May's uniform and apron. Ella then closed the curtain and began to unbutton her dress. The yellow fabric rustled from her shoulders, down her chest, hips, and thighs, and pooled at her shoes.

"Does it fit?" said Reynard from the doorway, and Ella covered her chest. She was only in her corset.

"Leave at once," she commanded; rage quickened her heartbeat.

But Rhys joined in, and entered her room. "Now, now, let Ella change." His words were supposed to comfort her, but he stayed and paced her room.

Having no other choice, Ella put on the uniform, better than naked in her corset.

The scent of Mrs. May's rose powder calmed her, and Ella wore it hastily, while her brothers gazed without blinking. They grinned at her, satisfied as she wore the uniform, then the apron.

Rhys turned her around and tied the back laces.

"What are you--" Ella protested.

"Stay still." He said, gulping, as he tightened the knot. "Pretty."

"Not bad." Reynard joined in and ran his fingers on her skirt, then bumped it up, showing both of her smooth thighs. "A bit too short."

Ella clamped it together. "No--"

Rhys grabbed Reynard's shoulder. "Don't scare her."

She wouldn't let them. "If you dare to assault me, then I will drag everyone down, along with your mother!"

"What assault?" Rhys chuckled. "Why would I harm my little sister?"

But the two of them kept closing in. It was the second time she had been cornered in her room, and she couldn't take it anymore. "Out. I just want to finish my chore."

"And we will gladly help you," said Rhys.

"We are family after all; we'll help each other," said Reynard.

"My beautiful sister." Muttered Rhys, closer to her ear. "Reynard and I always hated your father; he kept Mother in debt and treated her roughly like a mistress. We couldn't forget the noise they made as he came to collect her debt."

"Liar! Father is a kind man."

Reynard chuckled, "Kind? Do you know how he kissed her?" He tilted Ella's jaw up; she resisted, but he claimed her lips.

"Mph!" Ella protested between breaths.They were lying!

"It's true," said Rhys. "Only when Mother couldn't take it anymore did she agree to marry your father. But he met his end, pity, and left us his pretty daughter to take care of."

"No... "You're lying," said Ella, as Reynard finally moved down to her neck, embraced her from the back, and bit her shoulder. "Ah!"

Rhys laughed. "It's true. Would you like to see Mother's prenuptial letter? I'll show you later, but now..." He began kissing her furiously and licked her lips, Ella could only gasp.

They took turns kissing her until her limbs went limp, and her eyes began to water. Slowly she lost her will.

"Not so hard; don't leave a mark," said Rhys as Ella wiped her lips.

The two brothers backed her, and she retreated, dipping into her bed and crawling to the far end.

"What are you doing?" Rhys tousled his hair and unbuttoned his shirt.

"She wants more of us, obviously," said Reynard, caressing his lips, swollen as Ella had bitten him a few times.

"Come, sister." Rhys approached her and tousled her hair gently. "Tell me, what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Is that so?" Rhys sat beside her, while Reynard sat on the other end.

Ella gazed at the room's corner, unwilling to face Rhys or Reynard. After their kisses and touches, her undergarments were soaked. She clamped her thighs together.

The three of them sat on the bed, forming a triangle with Ella at the center.

"Your father's deed gave us many problems to solve," said Rhys.

"So, we will help you with your chore." Said Reynard.

"Can't let our little sister be stained with cinder."

"We won't be like Father, who treats women roughly; you'll enjoy it too."

Ella thought for a moment, "That's unfair. Even if it's true, why should I pay my father's debt?"

"Precisely!" said Rhys. "That would be so petty, wouldn't it? But if you agree to help us, you'll find pleasure, too."

"Yes, why would you find another man? We are here at your fingertips."

"Treat us roughly as you want; take all your anger out on us."

"Mph." Again they began kissing and caressing Ella. Her neck, her chest, and their hands roamed all over her thighs. They pressed her so close, she could feel their erection.

"Ah." Rhys again sealed her mouth with his and started undressing himself.

Ella felt warm with what she saw, his body sculpted and firm, up to his neck and jaw. Dark hair and a lustful gaze.

"Curse it." She was tempted by the thought. Her father's death had caused her a sleepless night, as had the departure of Mrs. May and her brothers' continued advances. Ella was ready to burst.

Reynard's touch on her thighs felt so good; she wanted more of his finger.

"I might get... pregnant." She hated the word--and herself for how easily she changed her resolve.

"Tsk tsk, silly sister," said Reynard, tucking her stray hair behind her ear. "There are many ways to enjoy ourselves without the risk."

"We won't do it all the way," said Rhys before again kissing her neck and ears. "I promise. All you have to do is just sit on my lap and press your lips against me."

"What--I can't?" Ella couldn't believe what she just heard.

"Your lower lips. Here." Rhys laid himself on her bed, both legs in a straight line like a tin toy soldier. He flattened his erection up his stomach, his shirt fully open, displaying his ribs and nipples.

"Up you go," Reynard pulled her arm up and positioned her thighs so that she straddled Rhys, facing his grin.

She blushes as her soaked undergarments smear on his hardness.

"Don't take it off just yet." Rhys said. His words were calm, but his grips were impatient; he rocked her thighs back and forward.

"Ah." Ella gasped as the friction pleasured her mound, and she followed his lead. She never felt such a sensation on her flesh.

Rhys seemed to enjoy it too, his eyes squinting, resisting the pleasure. He fondled one breast, while Reynard caressed the other. Ella gasped; heat pooled as they were pressed together.

"I can't take it anymore," said Reynard, who kept stroking himself impatiently, seeming to be aching for a release.

Ella's breath turned uneven. After a while Mrs. May's uniform smelled uncomfortable.The powdery smell.She was the good girl Mrs. May had raised. Then, she was rocking her brother's member with her soaked undergarment.

Rhys pulled Ella's face closer and kissed her lips; they swallowed each other's tongue, and she began to relax. Her brother's chest and skin slick with sweat, she could smell his tonic. All these new sensations dragged her down in a daze.

"No... penetration, promise me?" She muttered, gazing down at Rhys.

"Yes, of course."

Ella stood and removed her undergarment; wetness trailed from it down her thighs.

Rhys pulled her arm and thighs abruptly back to straddling his manhood.

"YES."

"Ah!"

Their voices overlapped as she found the right angle and pressed her clit against his shaft. He maintained her thighs for balance, and the rhythm escalated. Harder. Faster.

"No, not yet, ah!" The friction burned her flesh in pleasure; Ella felt that her uniform was too warm, and she took it off, leaving only her corset.

Reynard couldn't wait anymore and joined in. He went behind her and ground his swollen member on her buttocks' cheeks.

Ella turned around to protest, but Rhys tilted her jaws and kissed her. She gasped for air, rocking back and forward, "Ah! Ah!"

Rhys held both of her thighs as he burst. "Ugh. Stop--"

His release covered his chest, but she continued grinding her mound against him--just a little bit more--Reynard grabbed her breasts from behind--"Yes! Yes! Nnnngggh," and she pulsed.

She lay on top of him, unmoved.

"Good girl." Rhys kissed the top of her head; everywhere their bodies met was all wet.

Reynard lay next to Rhys. "Ella, love me, too."

"But--" Ella looked at her disheveled self, Rhys's sweat and release stuck on her skin; but Reynard didn't care and pulled her to straddle him.

Rhys stood up as the two of them began to move. Ah. Reynard's body felt different; he was burning up against the damp sheet.

The bed creaking sound embarrassed her, and Ella again cursed herself. Her father recently passed away, and she found herself pleasuring both of her brothers. "Ah." But she had found clarity of mind after climaxing. As if all her problems melted along with her release.

"I'm close," said Reynard, holding her hips in place. "Yes!" Her wetness glided on his shaft, lubricating the friction. Ella's pleasure again started to build up even if she desperately wanted to clean herself--

"--Gah!" He paused and grabbed her sides, harder, as her lower lips pulsing against his tip, shooting up warm liquid, up to his neck. They both gasped for air.

Ella never took Reynard seriously; she found him very intrusive, but when their gaze met, she did not know how to feel about him.