Posted by Anonymous on 2019/08/04 under Love Her bed smells like sweat and sex and things that are just wrong. It clings to the sheets, and I swear to the good god above that nothing will ever get the scent of my sins out. The taste of her lips are intoxicating enough; good god, stepmother, kiss me again, I'm yours… I sit and watch the music lesson, admiring the way her fingers grace the ivories, and I remember the way they felt when they were pressing against forbidden places… I watch and I want and I need and I hate and- "Cinderella, please, stop staring, it's terribly rude." I'm their servant, but I'm her slave. Stepmother! please, touch me there again; it feels so good… Anastasia and Drizella laugh when she scolds me, but she laughs at them when she kisses me… They're not as pretty as you, Cinderella… I don't want to admit that it's true. Mother said to be humble. But she makes me a naughty, haughty girl. I have to sit down on her bare bed, clutching the sheets in my hands and pressing a fistful of fabric against the most sacred-yet desecrated-part of my body…just to feel it all again… I really do love washing her sheets.