Setting the Record Straight: Cinderella

Trina Spillman
12 mins read
Published over 2 years ago
Chapter 2

Setting the Record Straight Cinderella (Part 2)

Drizella glanced toward the front of the house and said, “He has always had impeccable timing.”


Drizella simply replied, “You’ll see.” She excused herself, so she could greet the person at the door.

When she returned, she had a flamboyantly dressed black man in tow. He didn’t wait for an introduction. He walked over to Maggie, bowed, and kissed the back of her hand. As he straightened to look into her face, he announced, “My name is Bernard and I am Ella’s fairy godfather.”

Maggie’s mouth fell open.

“Oh, honey, don’t look so shocked.”

Maggie stammered, “I wasn’t, I mean, you’re not who I… I’m sorry, let me start over. My name is Maggie. Forgive me, I was expecting a woman.”

“I’m a fairy godfather. I agreed to come here today at Drizella’s insistence, so I could set the record straight, once and for all.”

Maggie sensed Bernard was deeply hurt by the original fairy tale. He affirmed her suspicion when he asked, “How would you like it if you were portrayed as some dim-witted, white-haired frump hopping about turning mice into horses, all while singing bippityboppity boo? Do I look crazy to you?”

Maggie replied, “No, not at all. It is entirely understandable that you want the credit you deserve for helping Ella land her prince. How did you help her?”

Bernard looked over at Drizella, who gently took his hand in hers and said, “It’s okay, just tell her the truth.”

Bernard nodded, sat in one of the wooden kitchen chairs, picked an imaginary piece of lint off his colorfully patch-worked bell-bottom jeans, and exhaled. “Well, after that horrid bitch, Anastasia, ruined Ella’s fantabulous dress, Ella ran to the rose garden and collapsed. She sobbed and sobbed. Snot ran from her nose and black, muddy pools of streaked mascara encircled her eyes, making her look like a rabid raccoon.”

Maggie held up her fountain pen, “How did you know Ella needed help?”

Without missing a beat, Drizella quipped, “She texted ‘Fairy needed’ and Bernard showed up.”

“ ‘Fairy needed’ ” … Bernard snickered. “Aren’t you precious. No, that is not what happened.”

Maggie asked, “What did happen?” 

“Well, there I was, minding my own business, walking down the main road on my way to a party at a friend’s house, when a high-pitched wail pierced the twilight. The wail was followed closely by sobbing and several colorful expletives that made me blush. I went to see what all the commotion was about and found Ella, with clenched fists, pacing back and forth in front of Drizella in the rose garden near the front drive of the house. When I approached, the two ladies were not all that welcoming.”

Maggie noticed a look of embarrassment cross Drizella’s face. To avoid eye contact with either Maggie or Bernard, she looked down at her hands and started picking at her dry cuticles.

With a sardonic grin, Bernard continued. “When I approached, this one,” he said, pointing toward Drizella, “picked up a rock and threw it at my head!”

Maggie turned toward Drizella, who was still looking down, and asked, “Why on earth would you have done that?”

Drizella slowly raised her head and looked over at Maggie, “I thought he was going to rob the house.”

“ ‘Rob the house’?” Bernard was beside himself. “Don’t make me laugh. Your mother had already sold anything of real value. I wanted to see if I could help, but all you saw was a scary black man.”

“I know. I have apologized on countless occasions and am truly sorry for making such an assumption. Luckily you ducked in the nick of time.”

“Yes, lucky for me.”

Maggie wrote as fast as she could, “So … she threw a rock at your head thinking you were some criminal on the loose, yet you stayed to help Ella. Why?”

Drizella repeated the question. “Yes, Bernard, why did you stay?”

Bernard gave Drizella a terse stare. “I stayed because I thought I could help her.”

Maggie followed up, “How?” 

“I had just learned a new spell that I wanted to try on someone I was planning to meet at the party, but it looked like I wasn’t going to make it there, so I thought I could try the spell out on Ella.”

Bernard seemed to be avoiding the question, so Maggie continued to press him. “What spell had you recently learned?”

Drizella added, “Yes, Bernard, tell us. What kind of spell was it that you had just learned?”

Bernard glared at Drizella with wide eyes and mumbled, “It was a fellatio spell.”

Maggie wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

Drizella clarified. “You heard him correctly. He said fellatio, which is the art of cocksucking, in which one places the penis of one's partner into one's mouth and caresses it with the tongue and tonsils, while at the same time sucking ever so gently while moving one's head back and forth, massaging the head of the penis with the tip of one’s tongue.”

With eyes the size of silver dollars, both Maggie and Bernard’s jaws hit the floor.

Drizella looked offended. “I simply wanted to make sure we were all clear on the definition of fellatio, since it is a key element to the story.”

Bernard shrugged his shoulders and faced Maggie. “Definitions aside, how did you think Ella got the prince to fall in love with her?”

Maggie said, “I really don’t know, but I am sure you can tell me.”

“Oh, honey, can I ever! I will never forget the look on Ella’s face when I told her it was her lucky day, and that I was her fairy godfather. She, of course, didn’t believe me, so the first order of business was to get her out of that wine-stained gown and into something that would capture the attention of any eligible man at the ball.

“I pushed my sleeves up, and with a flourish of my wrist, I tapped my magic wand on Ella’s shoulder and spun the most glorious golden gown. It was comprised of thousands of tiny 18-karat gold squares. Gold is heavy, so there couldn’t be too much of it. The front bodice was extremely low cut, showing off Ella’s perfect cleavage. The slit up the front went from the floor to Ella’s slit. The two cut-outs on either side of the bodice revealed her sumptuous hourglass figure. But the pièce de résistance was the back, or rather, lack of a back. The dress stopped just north of the crack of her firm, round ass, which looked fabulous in that gown, by the way. Once I was finished, that child looked good enough to eat.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows, wondering if the prince had dined on Ella that evening, but refrained from speculating aloud.

“How did the two of you get to the ball?” Maggie asked as she looked over at Drizella.

Drizella said matter-of-factly, “Bernard called a cab.”

Maggie stared at Bernard, “A cab?”

“Well, Uber wasn’t around back then, and I have no idea how to transform a pumpkin into a glass carriage. And even if I could, why would I? A glass carriage … really? If you got into an accident, you would be cut to smithereens.”

Maggie chuckled and nodded in agreement. She was trying to nail down the timeline of events and asked Bernard, “When did you cast the fellatio spell?”

“Oh, that. I cast the spell right after I finished her lipstick.”

“Did Ella know the kind of spell you were casting?”

“Of course. How else would she know what to do? I told her that anyone she had oral sex with would fall madly in love with her, but she had to pay attention to the time, because her special gift and everything she was wearing would disappear at the stroke of midnight.”

“Drizella, once you and Ella got to the ball, what happened?”

“We got there late. Everyone had already been announced and were seated at their respective tables enjoying the first course of a gourmet seven course meal. Ella and I entered the grand ballroom in search of two open seats. The unobtrusive dinner music stopped, and a hush descended over the room. The light reflecting off Ella’s gown played tricks with the eyes of the guests; it looked like a thousand lightning bolts were being shot out of each of the tiny golden squares.

“The prince was seated at the front of the grand hall where he was enjoying his lobster bisque, soup being the first course. As soon as he spotted her, he stood … slowly, as if in a trance. He glided down the stairs and across the empty dance floor to where we stood. I looked on in amazement as the prince took Ella’s hand and led her to his table.

“Inconspicuously hidden near the kitchen entrance was a table at which sat a number of other social misfits. There was one empty seat and I took it.”

Drizella paused at this, as if daring one of us to deny her social standing. When nothing was forthcoming, she sighed and continued. “After the most delicious meal that had ever graced my lips, a young man from our table asked me if I would like to dance. Ella was dancing with the prince, and I was thrilled someone had taken an interest in me, so I jumped at the chance. Unfortunately, I never could dance very well, no matter how many lessons I was given, and I am afraid I tormented my dance partner by stepping on his feet at every turn. He eventually surrendered and led me back to our table, so he could rest his weary and bruised feet. I continued to watch everyone having the time of their lives, then I noticed Ella leading the prince away from the main ballroom. I was intrigued and decided to follow.

“Ella led the prince outside where they walked along a moonlit path toward an ancient Japanese garden. I hid behind the most delightfully fragrant Japanese Cherry tree and watched Ella perform the act that did indeed make the prince fall in love with her. I’ll never forget it. They faced each other, holding hands. The prince wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close. He lowered his head and brushed his lips gently against hers. Ella knew she had little time to waste and pulled back from the prince. Staring deeply into his eyes and using both hands, she yanked his pants down. She tugged them over his feet and tossed them aside. The prince was completely stunned, having had his pants pulled off so quickly.

“A garden bench stood behind the Prince. Ella guided him there and forced him to sit. She knelt between his legs and raked her long fingernails across his bare thighs. She spread his legs far apart and kissed his thighs, getting closer and closer to his balls. When she put one of his balls into her mouth, he let out a loud moan. She gently rolled it around inside her mouth before switching to the other one. Her lips enveloped his entire sac, up to the root of his cock. She licked his shaft with the tip of her tongue. Starting at the root, she worked her way up to the sensitive underside, right under the head of the penis. She flicked her tongue quickly and repeatedly on that area, and then teased him with long, slow licks up and down the shaft. Ella wrapped her lips around the entire head of his cock and started to gently suck him off. Fondling his balls with her hand, she slowly took in more and more of his member until it was deep inside her mouth. She began bobbing her head up and down, getting her hands under him and squeezing his ass.

“The prince began to buck his hips; she stroked the root of his cock with her hand as she swirled her tongue wildly around the head of his manhood. She drove him mad with desire. He groaned and moaned with pleasure as he neared climax. Suddenly, the clock tower began to strike twelve. Ella abruptly stopped, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and got up off her knees. I ran toward her, grabbed her hand, and together we ran to the cab, which was, at Bernard’s instruction, waiting for us. Ella stopped and turned back toward the prince. She yelled ‘Find me and I will finish.’ ”

Maggie sat in stunned silence as Drizella finished recounting the events from that fateful evening. Bernard coughed loudly and broke the trance.

Glancing down at her notepad and clearing her throat, Maggie asked Drizella, “What happened to Anastasia and your mother?”

“They attended the ball and clearly recognized Ella. My mother demanded to know where the golden gown had come from, and when we told her about Bernard, she locked both of us in our rooms. The next day, a telegram arrived notifying the kingdom’s subjects that the prince had fallen in love with a maiden he met at the ball, but her identity was unknown. He announced his intention to find her and marry her. When he arrived at our house, my mother thrust Anastasia in front of him. He knew she wasn’t the girl he was looking for, but Anastasia didn’t know he knew, and she led him into the library, where she tried to seduce him. He pushed her away.”

Maggie asked, “How do you know what happened in the library?”

“Ella told me. She was kneeling in front of the fireplace cleaning away the ashes and witnessed the whole thing. Poor Anastasia! As soon as the prince thwarted her advances, she spun on her heels and left the room. When the prince saw Ella on her knees, he had a flash of recognition and walked toward her. She looked up at him, giving him a knowing look from under long, sexy eyelashes, and asked, ‘Want me to finish what I started?’ ”

Maggie glanced over at Bernard, “But the spell had ended, so how would she have succeeded in finishing her magic blow job?”

Bernard laughed. “Ella was a resourceful girl. As soon as the telegram arrived from the prince, she had begun practicing the art of fellatio using a golf ball and garden hose. She was bound and determined to win herself a prince.”

Drizella nodded in agreement and said, “And she did. The prince kept his word and married Ella. They reign over the Kingdom of Stoneybrook.”

Maggie asked, “What did your mother and sister do once Ella moved away?”

“My mother had walked in on Ella pleasuring the prince and the shock sent her blood pressure skyrocketing, which resulted in her having a stroke. She now lives in a nursing home over in Shadowsage. Anastasia ran off with one of the singers in the band that played at the ball. She occasionally mails a postcard from the road, filling me in on what it’s like to be a groupie.”

Maggie noticed the time on the rooster-shaped clock hanging on the wall and was shocked to see it was already six o’clock in the evening. She had one final question before she left. “Why hasn’t Ella helped you with funding repairs to the château?”

Bernard gently reached over, placed his hand over Drizella’s, and answered on her behalf. “Ella clearly has issues from years of abuse at the hands of Drizella’s mother. She ran from this place and never wanted to be reminded of the torture she endured here. At least that is what I think. Ella would never return Drizella’s messages to explain why she wouldn’t help her sister. That is why this story is so important. Drizella isn’t evil or wicked and certainly doesn’t deserve to be ostracized from society for something she never did. She never abused Ella, and Ella isn’t the saint everyone thinks she is. Drizella needs to be able to hire contractors to help with repairs and be able to sell her wine so she can afford those repairs.”

“I thought the vineyards had suffered a terrible blight and the vines were ruined?”

Drizella spoke up. “Not all the plants died, and over the years, some of the vines affected by the blight have come back. This is the first season I have a vintage wine bottled and ready to sell, but no buyers. No one wants to buy anything from me.”

Maggie’s stomach audibly rumbled as she looked at the clock. Another hour had passed, and she really needed to get back to the office. She had to put her thoughts down on paper while they were still fresh in her mind. She began gathering her things, saying, “I can’t believe how late it has gotten. I had better get back to my office.”

Drizella handed Maggie a brown paper bag containing half a loaf of French bread and a few slices of smoked Gouda. “Here, you better eat something on your way back.”

Maggie thanked Bernard and Drizella, who both followed her out to her car. The night was filled with lightning bugs, and the purple sky was dotted with twinkling silver stars. Maggie left her top down and waved as she pulled out of the drive. The cool night air cleared her head. She mulled over the details of her story as she nibbled on the bread and cheese. Once she arrived at her office, she churned out an article even better than her first, at least she thought so, but she would have to wait to hear what her editor thought. She emailed her attachment to Ms. Grimhilde and headed home.

The following day, she received a second standing ovation but wasn’t sure why. By the time she’d reached her desk, she was thoroughly bewildered. One of her fellow reporters handed her the newspaper, and there on the front page, above the fold, was her story about Ella. She assumed her editor had liked the story and ran it before the paper went to print the night before. She was re-reading her story when the phone on her desk rang. The caller identification showed it was from Drizella. Maggie picked up. Drizella began rambling on about something, but Maggie couldn’t understand anything she was saying. “Calm down, what happened?”

“Ella called me! She apologized and offered whatever help she could to get the house in order. It’s a bloody, fucking miracle! I also have orders for cases upon cases of wine. Thank you, Maggie. Thank you for everything!”

As Maggie was ending her call with Drizella, she caught sight of Andrew as he walked toward her desk. She hung up the phone and said, “Hey, stranger. What brings you by?”

“I wanted to congratulate you in person on another brilliant story and invite you to meet a couple who would like to set the record straight, so they can get married.”

“Do I know this couple?”

“It depends. Have you heard of Captain Hook and Peter Pan?”

More from Trina on Bellesa:

Setting the Record Straight: Peter Pan