The Hypnotic Adventures of Cinderella
Copyright© 2010 by blacknight99
Chapter 2: Cinderella's Surrender
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 2: Cinderella's Surrender - Not quite the same old story.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft ft/ft Consensual Romantic Reluctant Mind Control Hypnosis Slavery Fiction Humor Humiliation
"Look at you!" Stepmother said, dragging her over to a full-length mirror. Cindy gasped. Her skirt and blouse were back in place, though the blouse was too tight up top. The new bra cupped her breasts firmly, drawing them upward and together, displaying them to the whole world. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had been brushed, and her usual mousy brown curls shown with a luster she had never seen before.
"It's time to go now, dear. Your new father and Pablo are waiting downstairs in the car."
"But ... you need to call Mr. Cronklin. You said..."
"I did that ages ago. You've been asleep for almost an hour and a half."
Cindy studied the clock hanging on the wall. "Did ... did Pablo see me ... um... ?"
"Oh, yes. The poor man is hopelessly in lust with you, Cindy. I'm afraid that's just one more little thing you're going to need to help me with in the very near future."
Cindy swallowed hard at the thought, and stumbled after Stepmother as she led the way rapidly out the door, down the hall, down the massive marble staircase, through the huge foyer and finally the front door. Daddy was holding the back door of a large, black touring car for her, and took the opportunity to place a hand on Cindy's back to help her in. Stepmother, however, asked her husband to please sit up front for the ride to the orphanage ... for appearance's sake, she explained ... but had to placate him with a promise that he could sit beside his new daughter on the way home.
Louisville is has a very large metropolitan area, and Cindy had to lean forward several times to give directions, giving Daddy ample opportunity to make a studied appraisal of her abundant cleavage. While he decided to withhold comment, it was obvious that he approved of the show enough to view the reruns, though a blush now seemed to be settling on Cindy's upper chest.
Mr. Cronklin himself was waiting for them on the front steps of the Arms Academy, and ushered them directly into his office. Cindy had been there only once, when she had received an academic award the preceding year. Daddy got right to business by presenting an envelope stuffed with cash to the stammering, wide-eyed director, who thanked him profusely on behalf of the Academy, and wrote out a receipt personally, over the vociferous objections of his secretary, who was promptly dismissed. The adoption paperwork was all done in advance, and after a few signatures, it was finished.
Feeling it was time for small talk, Mr. Cronklin commented on Cindy's appearance. "We're certainly growing them healthy, these days," he said jovially, leering at her gaping blouse and prodigious bosom.
"It's all the chicken you feed them," Stepmother said, deadpan, which got a hint of a smile from Cindy, but blank stares from the men. "Well," she continued, rubbing her hands together and getting up, "look at the time! We'd better be going!" And she took Cindy's arm and led her out the door.
Before they'd gone ten steps, however, Cindy stopped. "Aren't I going to pack my things?" she asked, suddenly concerned.
"No, my dear. You are about to begin a new life. You will need nothing from the old one." She tried to lead Cindy toward the front door, but the girl's feet were suddenly stuck.
"I ... um ... Can I just take one thing? Please?"
"No, dear. Not even one." She tugged at the girl and then suddenly looked shocked that she was not being obeyed without question. "What is it, dear? We really need to get out of here."
"It's just a little thing," Cindy pleaded. "I don't have to OWN it anymore. I'll give it to YOU! You can keep it ... but at least then, I'll know where it is. If I leave it, they'll throw it away!" She was actually backing away from Stepmother now.
"My God!" Stepmother said in a hushed tone. "I'd never have suspected that you'd be willful about ANYTHING! Alright, Cindy. Go! Hurry! Get it and bring it to me in the car. NOW!"
And Cindy was sprinting down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her. She realized, as she ran, her breasts bobbing wildly in their new, less restraining undergarment, that this was the last time she would ever climb these stairs, see this wing of the building ... this building in which she had spent her entire life. In her room, she suddenly came face-to-face with one of her roommates.
"Is it true?" the girl asked. She had never really been very friendly with Cindy. "Are you really being adopted?"
"Yes," Cindy said, grabbing something off of one of the shelves.
"The guy probably just wants to fuck you," the girl said acidly.
"Yes," Cindy yelled over her shoulder, racing out of the room. "Yes, he does!" Back down the hall. Back down the stairs and out the door. Daddy put his arm around her to "help" her into the car, and then joined her in the back seat. And the car was moving. Moving away from the orphanage. Moving away forever.
Immediately, Daddy put a gentle hand on her bare knee, making her gasp sharply. She move slightly away from him toward Stepmother, sitting on the other side of her, but Daddy simply shifted, as well, so that the hand seemed to have found a natural resting place. "Here," she told Stepmother. "Thank you. Thank you SO much. I will never ask you for anything else, as long as I live. But, thank you."
"What the hell is THIS?" Stepmother asked her, holding the thin, hardcover book.
"It's a Little Golden Book. It's numbered 'D-13, ' see? Right there. The 'D' stands for 'Disney.' I looked it up. It was the 13th book that they published for the Disney Corporation. It was first printed in 1950. And look! Here on the last page ... down at the bottom ... see the little 'F' that's almost hidden by the spine? That means it's a 6th printing ... because 'F' is the sixth letter."
"Cinderella," Stepmother said, noncommittally, reading the title. "Is it valuable?"
"I've seen it on ebay for three dollars," Cindy said, shrugging.
Stepmother began to comment, then stopped. She thought a moment. "Your mother gave it to you," she said.
"It's the only thing that she ever gave me. The only thing that's left that proves she even existed. I've never even found a picture of her. Her grave is in a 'paupers' cemetery, ' and it doesn't even have a name on it ... just a little plaque with a number."
Stepmother stared out the window for a long time, then wiped her cheek with her palm. "I'll keep it for you," she said quietly.
"Thank you, Stepmother. This means so ... OH!" Cindy seemed to freeze on the seat, forcing her eyes to look straight ahead.
Stepmother leaned forward and looked down at Cindy's left leg, where Daddy's hand had gently drifted to her bare, inner thigh. She put her lips close to Cindy's right ear. "It's going to be an interesting evening." She whispered.
Daddy's wandering hand was interrupted in its travels when the car pulled into the parking lot of the mall and made its way to the front door of the best department store in the complex. He started protesting rather vociferously, but Stepmother ignored his concerns, told him they would be through shopping in half an hour, grabbed Cindy's hand and led her into the store. It appeared that most of the shopping had already been done, for at the Service Counter, Stepmother paid for things she had evidently already arranged for; and she put several bags in a wheeled shopping cart, before heading out to various stops at counters throughout the store. Soaps, cosmetics, creams and other items virtually flew into the cart. Toothbrushes, combs, hairbrushes ... Cindy couldn't keep up. Pablo found them in the shoe department while Cindy was trying on tennis shoes, and made a trip back out to the car, burdened like a pack mule under the weight of the bags that had already been paid for.
Cindy couldn't believe it, but Stepmother seemed to be true to her word, and in scarcely more than thirty minutes, they were walking back out to the car, Pablo under the strain of yet another load. Daddy's hand settled back to its accustomed place on Cindy's thigh, but in another fifteen minutes, they were home. Stepmother took her by the hand and led her inside.
"What was in all those bags?" Cindy asked.
"Your clothes, of course. I ordered them before we left."
"But ... when did you do it? How did you know my size?"
"You were quite naked in the chair in my office," was the response. "You were making yourself go deeper and deeper under my control ... and I had all the time in the world. I just looked at the labels in your clothes and made a phone call." She was leading Cindy up the huge staircase when they were suddenly face to face with a slender younger woman and came to an abrupt stop, looking up at her. "Betty, my dear," Stepmother said sweetly.
"Mom, what the hell's going on in this house? And who the fuck is THIS?"
Cindy stared up, gawking. The girl looked like a skinny Goth-turned-teen-witch on steroids; or at least, Cindy thought, she was trying to present that impression. Her coal-black hair was cut in a butch, her black leather miniskirt did little to cover the tops of her black fishnet stockings, and a barbed wire tattoo circled her left arm. She wore a short, black leather jacket that left her slender midriff tantalizingly bare. Black eye shadow and lipstick finished the effect.
"Betty, I will not permit language like that in my house!"
The girl smiled. "Forgive me, Mother. I truly did not mean to offend. Now, please, introduce me to the fat, ugly cunt you're with."
"Betty!" Stepmother sputtered. She seethed, trying to calm herself. Betty smiled. Cindy blinked. "Betty," she continued, obviously trying very hard not to lose her temper, "I'd like you to meet Cindy. She's going to be living with us. She's going to be helping out with the chores here ... and your stepfather has just adopted her."
The fake smile on Betty's face froze and then turned ugly. "You're telling me that ... that without ever mentioning it to ME ... that ... just like that ... I suddenly have a STEPSISTER?" She reared back her head and howled. "Has the whole fucking world gone INSANE!?"
"Betty, please!" Stepmother pleaded, suddenly uncertain. But Betty dodged to one side of the broad stairs and stomped down to the lower level. The older woman was clearly shaken. She leaned close to Cindy. "Betty has been ... under a strain lately."
"I can HEAR you, Mom!" Betty's voice drifted up from below. "And tell the fat, ugly cunt to stay the hell away from me!"
"Oh my," Cindy said softly. They suddenly had to move to one side as Pablo carried a massive amount of shopping bags past them and up the stairs. Without further comment, Stepmother took Cindy's hand and led her after him.
At the top of the grand staircase, one finds oneself in a large corner foyer that splits into two long hallways extending outward at right angles. Cindy had only been to the left, since Stepmother's office was that way, but now, they turned down the other hall, and Cindy observed Pablo ahead of them, walking swiftly through an open doorway. He almost immediately reappeared without the bags, and started back toward them. He spoke in swift Spanish as he passed them, and Stepmother responded immediately in English: "Thank you, Pablo." She explained to Cindy. "Pablo is worried about dinner. You see, he has many duties here: butler, driver, gardener. But first and foremost, he is in charge of the kitchen. He's really a remarkable cook. He says he will bring the last load of your things up ... and then serve a modest meal in the dining room in thirty minutes."
As they approached the room, Cindy was suddenly aware that the door wasn't open ... it was missing entirely! Stepmother saw her staring at the empty hinges, but held up her hand to silence any questions, then she led her over to the bed, shoved a few of the shopping bags aside, and motioned for Cindy to sit beside her.
"You will find," she began softly, "that you will have difficulty keeping up, at first, with all the rules and regulations that I will set out for you in the course of the next day or two. Still, I know that you will do your best in everything that is asked of you. My rules are designed to enforce the feeling that you are, indeed, a slave in this household. As you learn to follow these rules, that feeling will be deeply and indelibly ingrained in you. Through the use of hypnosis, I will help you welcome it. You will come to cherish it ... to thrive on it. At times, you will find yourself in certain ... compromising positions that will truly embarrass you. But that embarrassment will only serve to strengthen your role here. You will never get used to it. It will always make you feel uncomfortable, make you blush, make you confused ... but you will also find the feeling deeply ... sexual."
Cindy was blushing now, as a matter of fact, and her breath seemed labored.
"That is why there is no door to your room," Stepmother continued. "You will have your own bedroom ... and your own bathroom, which is just down the hall ... but you will have no privacy. There is no door on your bathroom, either, by the way. Anyone will be able to look in and see you ... and anyone can enter this room, without your permission, at any time." She paused and took a breath. "I will now go over a few of the basic rules that will govern your life with us. First, however, I want you to stand up and remove your clothes, please. Do it now."
Cindy stood shakily and began unbuttoning her blouse. Stepmother stood as well, then chose one of the shopping bags, and dumped its contents out on the bed. The girl's hands were shaking slightly as she removed the garment, paused for a moment as Stepmother held the empty bag open to her, and finally she realized what was expected of her. She dropped the blouse into the bag, then reached down and removed her shoes. As each garment was removed, she dropped it in the bag, with the exception of the new bra, which she was obviously meant to keep, and she set that down on the bed, as well. At last, she dropped her old cotton panties into the sack, then stood nervously, shifting her weight from foot to foot, waiting for the next order. She was mortified when Pablo reentered the room, so burdened with shopping bags that he couldn't see the spectacle in front of him until he had heaved them onto the bed beside her. Then, his eyes widened, he sucked in his breath, and staggered back from her a few steps.
Cindy bent at the waist and covered herself with her hands, but Stepmother barked an order, and reluctantly, she straightened up and haltingly moved her hands to her sides, blushing crimson. Pablo simply stood and gawked at her, until the older woman handed him the bag containing the old clothes and told him something in sharp Spanish. He nodded, taking the bag but never looking away from the naked girl. At another command, he finally glanced at Stepmother, nodded again curtly, then turned slowly toward the door. He finally glanced in the bag, and to Cindy's utter consternation and horror, he raised it to his nose and sniffed. Finally, he was gone.
Stepmother rummaged through several bags and held up a long, terrycloth bathrobe. Gratefully, Cindy took it and slipped it on, drawing the cloth belt around her and tying it. But Stepmother pulled the top of it open, so that it gaped slightly all the way to the waist. "That is the way you will wear it. You may cover your nipples, but always show the tops of your breasts, and always leave a gap showing between them. You may only wear your regular clothes in this room when you are cleaning or putting things away. Otherwise, whenever you are here, you will wear this ... in just this way. When you lie down to go to sleep, you will always be nude. Always. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Stepmother."
The woman turned and looked pointedly at the room's other furnishings. There was a huge, overstuffed easy chair in the center of the room, facing the gaping doorway, with a floor lamp and small reading table next to it. "You may sit in the chair ... or lounge on your bed ... whenever you have free time. But if you are alone, you must be nude whenever you are on the bed. You have no books. I know you are a reader ... but you must earn the privilege of borrowing a book. Do not ask. I will tell you when you may read one." She waved her hand at the dresser. "Everything must be put away, there or in the closet, which, I'm sure you've noticed, has also had its door removed. If you need any more hangers, tell Pablo. There is a small linen closet in the bathroom. All your accessories must be kept there, or in the medicine cabinet. Do you see that towel hanging from the rack on the wall? Whenever you go from this room to the bathroom, you must remove your robe and wrap the towel around you. You will take two showers every day ... one when you get up in the morning, and one when you finish exercising. You may not take any clothes with you when you shower ... only a towel ... both to and from the bathroom. You may take a clean, dry towel from the bathroom when you leave. You may take as long as you like in the shower. But you are responsible for your own schedule ... and it is a busy one."
"Rule number one: above all else, no matter what your schedule, when anyone in this house wants you sexually, you will give yourself ... completely, without question or protest. Do you understand rule number one, Cindy?"
"Oh my! I mean ... yes, Stepmother."
The woman motioned her to the bedside, then picked up a skirt. "These skirts should fit you. It will be your uniform ... the only thing you will wear in this house ... that, along with the blouse." She picked one up. She took something from her pocket. "Do you know what this is, Cindy?"
"Yes, Stepmother. It's a seam ripper."
"You sew? Oh, wonderful! That will certainly come in handy. Anyway, I want you to take this and use it to remove the top two buttons on every blouse. You will wear the white socks we bought, and the tennis shoes. There are the four bras that Pablo bought today. I'll show you to the laundry room tomorrow, and give you the cleaning schedule for the whole house. The only other thing you will be allowed to wear will be these gym shorts and tee shirts for exercise. We have our own exercise room, and you will be required to spend an hour every day there. Any questions?" Cindy stood with her mouth open. "Good!" Stepmother concluded. "Get dressed and be downstairs for dinner in fifteen minutes in the dining room. The family dining room, not the main dining room."
And she was gone.
"Oh my," Cindy repeated to herself. "What have I gotten myself into?" She looked around the room with a mixture of intense apprehension and utter pleasure. Her own room. In her entire life, she had never slept in a room that was hers and hers alone. The bed was a double. She had never been in anything other than a single ... unless she was on a school trip and was forced to share with another girl. And it was SOFT! She tested it with her hand and shivered with anticipation. She cast a nervous glance at the open doorway, then shucked off her robe ... only to quickly put it on again long enough to look through the various bags and find the silky panties they had bought. With frequent looks at the door, she again took off the robe and dressed in her "uniform." The hem of the black skirt broke exactly at her knees. She was used to the bra now, which was comfortable, while providing all the support she needed. It took her a few minutes with the ripper to cut the thread holding the top two buttons of a new white blouse, and the resulting gap showed her cleavage constantly. She now sensed that time was short, so she sat on the edge of the easy chair and hurried into her socks and shoes, then hustled out and down the stairs.
She wouldn't have found the proper dining room if it hadn't been for the aroma of food, that turned out to be grilled roast beef sandwiches, which Pablo served with potato salad and slaw ... all obviously homemade. They were all seated around a modestly sized table, and Daddy smiled and motioned Cindy to come and sit beside him. Stepmother was at his other side, while Betty hunkered over her plate at the far other end of the table and ate silently. Pablo served everyone and then joined them. Daddy spoke constantly of philately, which Cindy finally realized was stamp collecting. No one else joined the conversation for the simple reason that no one else could. He prattled on and on, and eventually, Betty simply got up and left ... then, so did Pablo. Finally, Stepmother broke in on the soliloquy and asked Daddy rather pointedly if he had taken his pill.
"Pill?" he asked, flustered. "What pill?" But then he suddenly brightened. "Ah ... THAT pill! Yes, indeed, my dear. I am ready." He glanced down at his lap. "I am very, very ready!" He smiled broadly and leered at Cindy.
Stepmother stood and motioned for Cindy to come to her. "I need to show Cindy something, dear. And could you please stop by and see me in my study? It's very important."
"What?" the old man asked, shocked. "Now? Is it really imperative? I'm..." He looked back down at his lap. "I'm ready, you see."
"Yes, dear, it really is."
"Oh, very well," he grumbled. "I'll be there in a minute."
Stepmother led Cindy out of the room and back up the stairs. "He has trouble getting it up," she whispered.
"Getting what up?" asked Cindy.
The woman sighed. "Oh, this really IS going to be a memorable evening!" she exclaimed under her breath. Finally, they were back at Cindy's room. "Put your things away and then take a shower, dear. When you're finished bathing, I want you to go right from the bathroom to my study ... the room where I hypnotized you this afternoon. I need you to be there in forty-five minutes. Do you understand?"
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