Cinderella 9

This story has already been published elsewhere. It has been re-edited.

This is another long and slow-burning tale. If you expect torrid love scenes from page one, you will be disappointed.

This is about seduction more than sex, but it is about sex too.

Cinderella

One

It was a nondescript day when I went to the nondescript cafeteria of the hospital where I work to have a nondescript lunch, and... there she was. A new waitress, about 5'9" or 5'10", lean, very small tits (my guess, 36A), but a perky ass to die for. Oh my!

In addition to her beautiful face, what caught my attention was the effort she made to hide that beauty. The girl was like a Christmas tree of piercings. Ears, nose, eyebrow, lips, tongue. Those were the ones I could see. Her skin was like a peach's, rosy and blameless, without any visible tats (thank God!). Her exceptionally light brown eyes matched her mane of shiny chestnut hair, but I got the impression that she did her own hair. Oh my! So much raw material!

Her age was between seventeen and nineteen, but in addition to her effort to hide her beauty, she had a daring look, a "yes, that is me, so what?" demeanor that made it impossible to guess.

As you may know, my name is Chris, and I am an ICU nurse. I am 30 years old, and I am bisexual. I guess I am 60% into girls, 30% into boys, and the other 10% into both. This new girl fell well within my age range.

I sat at my usual table, which wasn't in her section, so our initial contact was delayed. I smiled at her across the cafeteria (it was not all that big, after all). She greeted me with a nod, with a look of "why is she smiling at me?"

She was hot, "my panties are getting wet" style of hot.

One of the older waitresses told me that she was sweeter than she looked. She got the job because her father cut her allowance for whatever reason. She told me her name was Millie.

Two

Millie was the reason I wouldn't have lunch anywhere else but in the hospital cafeteria for the next few days. I would always greet her with a smile, and she would always nod back without a smile.

That was when Taylor Swift would be in São Paulo with her Eras Tour, and everybody was in a frenzy to get one of the unobtainable tickets. Vee, one of my buddies who worked on the local tour team, had offered me two promotional tickets, but I did not give a definite reply. As much as I admire TS, I don't have the energy to go to a long show after a 12-hour ICU shift.

One day, I was at the cafeteria and went for a pee. On my way back, Millie was talking to one of the kitchen girls, with her back to me, and she was saying loud enough for me to hear. "I so want to go to Taylor's show that I would let Jamanta fuck me in the ass if he gave me a ticket."

Well, Jamanta is the nickname of a sweet security guy who works at the hospital. Jamanta means "semi-truck" in Portuguese. He is as big as Shaquille O'Neal and, as I've been told, entirely proportionally. When Millie saw me standing behind her, she became as red as a tomato, hid her face, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I quickly called Vee and asked if the tickets were still available, which, of course, they weren't.

"It was a red-hot item, and you sort of dismissed them, so I gave them to someone else."

"Please, find me some others. Even if it is a single one."

"I don't know why, but I feel some new pussy in the air. I will see what I can get."

She called me that evening and said. "You are a lucky girl. I found a single ticket in a fairly good location. Come pick it up tomorrow morning, buy me a coffee and a donut, and be prepared to spill the beans about that new pussy."

Three

The following day I went to lunch and sat at my usual place. Millie was busy at her station, and when she saw me, she became red and looked away. At the first opportunity, I beckoned her, and she came with her head down and a delightful blush on that pretty face. She started saying, "I am sorry. I apologize for whatever you may have heard yesterday."

I raised my hand and said, "Hi, Millie. I am Christina, but everybody in this hospital and out of it calls me Chris. If I remember my school days, right? What you did yesterday was called a hyperbole. But the last thing I want is to have you upstairs, having to fix that pretty ass of yours because you had that awful meeting with Jamanta."

She hid her face behind her hands and started saying something, but I interrupted.

"To avoid such a catastrophe, I have a gift for you," and pushed the ticket across the table.

Oh, girl! It took her a few seconds to understand, but when she did, she became flustered and asked, "Is this a joke?"

"No, Millie, it is not; it is the real deal."

"But why me?"

"Because yesterday you convinced me that you really wanted to see Taylor Swift." And then I added with a sarcastic smile, "You were willing to submit to the supreme sacrifice in order to do so."

I believe she wanted to respond, "Oh fuck you for that but thank you for this," but her tears got in the way, and she started sobbing and mumbling in such a way that the other waitresses came to see what was happening. It took a couple of minutes to end the brouhaha when she raised and hugged me, saying:

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," and ran to the lavatory.

Four

The following day when I got to the cafeteria, I noticed that there had been a section rotation, and she was attending at my usual place.

"Hi, Chris," she said with a smile but teary eyes. It was the first time I had seen her smile, and, oh girl, what 500-watt smile was that?

"Calmed down?"

"A bit. I still do not believe Santa has come out of season."

"It was not Santa. It was the League for the Defense of Pretty Girls' Bums." She blushed and said:

"Oh, enough of that."

"But, as with everything else in life, it comes with a price." She raised her eyebrows - and all the attached piercings - and asked,

"What, now?"

"After the show, we will have a glass of wine together, and you will tell me everything."

"But Chris, I was eighteen earlier this month. Although I can drink, I never did."

"An ice cream, then?"

"Oh, that I can do."

The following days she melted a little. Very polite and smiling in a way that made me imagine a lot of improper things that got my panties wet.

The day after the show she went to the ICU before her shift started, looking for me. One of my colleagues told me:

"There is a girl full of piercings looking for you. She is in the waiting room." Luckily, I was free then and went out to meet her.

"Hi, Millie! What happened?" She hugged me and said:

"I just want to say thank you once again." She is one inch taller than I am, and I hugged her back, feeling the delicious lavender scent of her shampoo.

"Was it worth the effort?"

"Oh girl, it was wonderful."

"OK, you must tell me all at the ice cream parlor. I must go back now." I waved my head to the ICU and said. "This is serious business."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say how much I loved it and thank you once again."

"I'll see you at lunch" and she went to the elevators like an elegant gazelle.

At lunchtime, I went down and sat at my usual place. Millie was serving and came running, apologizing for disturbing me at the ICU.

"First let me place my order, then you'll give me a summary of the show, but be careful not to overlook your other clients. The last thing I want is the ogre manager of the cafeteria getting angry with you."

After she relayed my order to the kitchen, she stood by my table and told me in a very low voice:

"The show was fantastic. The volume of resources and the number of people that make it happen was beyond my craziest expectations. But that is just the background. Taylor is, oh... I don't know the appropriate word... magical is the nearest. She is tall, taller than I am, and has a perfect body, face, hair, smile, and long legs..."

"Hold it, girl. It seems you fell in love."

She blushed and said. "I wish I were a boy! Oh, Chris, I will never be able to thank you enough."

I smiled and waved her away, saying. "You will if we have that ice cream together. When are we going to?"

"I leave at five. When can you?"

"I am on the ten AM to ten PM rotation until Thursday. Fridays and Saturdays are my days off. Does any of them suit you?"

"Oh, Chris! Friday, The sooner, the better."

"OK. We will talk at lunch on Friday."

Five

On Friday, I picked her up at the end of her shift. She smelled the exact way angels do, and it had an immediate impact on my pussy.

We went to a bakery near the hospital, where they served all sorts of sweet, fattening foods, including ice cream. It is an upscale place, and Millie was a bit wide-eyed.

"Don't you worry, you are my guest today."

"You gave me the ticket and will pay the check on top of that?"

"The ticket cost me zero. The check is for the pleasure of your company."

She blushed but seemed relieved. I love to make her blush; it makes me want to hold her.

We chose an isolated table, and I said. "Now, tell me everything about the show."

Millie spent the next thirty minutes telling me every detail of the show, describing each dress, outfit of the cast, pair of boots, dance, song, etc., etc. When she couldn't remember anything else, we went for a second round of sweets, and I asked:

"Now, tell me everything about Millie without omitting the slightest detail."

She blushed and asked. "There isn't much to be known. What do you want to know?"

"The other day, you told me you are eighteen. Are you still in school?"

"Yes," she said, telling me the school's name, which caters to rich kids. She noticed my surprise and told me the whole story.

Her mother was French and died of cancer when she was six. Her name is Amélie, which, along the time, became Millie. She has one younger sister, Fabienne - or Fabi, who is sixteen. Her father never remarried. He works at the Administration of the rich kids' school, and because of that, his daughters got a scholarship, provided that their score average was above 7,5/10. The other kids - especially the girls - never accepted Millie because she never had enough money to get along with them. Her nickname became "the poor kid." Perhaps because of that, she became an excellent student, with an average of 9,5/10. In addition to Portuguese, she spoke fluent French and English, which riled her well-traveled colleagues.

"Didn't you belong to any sports teams with them?"

"No! I was never good at collective sports. My sport of choice became judo."

I asked in disbelief. "Judo?"

"Yes." Then she added with pride, "I am a Nidan, a black belt second dan."

"Well, it is a bit of a surprise, but now I know where to look for a bodyguard when I need one." She smiled, and I added. "And what about the boys?"

"Initially, they didn't like me because I was lean and tall, like a skewer. I have always towered them all by one to two inches. When we got to puberty, the other girls got bigger tits than mine, and I continued to tower them. When it became known that I practiced judo, I scared them. By the time we were 15, the losers were the only ones that even looked at me. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Is that why you decided to turn this beautiful girl into an ugly one, with all those piercings and this daring stare? This "don't even come near me look?"

She blushed and said. "You sound like my father or my sensei."

"I'm sorry. You are so beautiful that I cannot understand the butterfly trying to become a caterpillar."

She blushed further and whispered. "You just don't understand the amount of contempt my sister and I were treated with. Are still being treated, in fact."

"I am sorry for you. Have you never had a boyfriend to defend you?" She lowered her eyes and made "no" her head. I held her hand and asked. "Neither a girlfriend?"

She shook her head as if I had asked if she had dated the devil.

I changed my tactics, asking. "You are such a beautiful girl. If you let the caterpillar become the butterfly, I imagine all boys in the world will be after you."

She smiled shyly at me and said. "Why are you so kind to me, Chris? What have I done to deserve your... love? I am not saying loving love, if you know what I mean, but love like an older sister, as something without wanting anything in return?"

"Since I first saw you at the cafeteria, I thought. 'Why does she look at everybody so daringly? Why does she try to hide so much beauty?' I wanted to connect with you from minute zero. And then I was compelled to protect that delightful ass of yours from Jamanta."

"Oh, stop that! He is such a sweet guy. His name was the first that came to my mind at that ill-fated instant."

I raised my hand boy-scout style and said. "I will never raise this subject again."

She thought briefly and said with a faint smile. "I am sure that Mr. Jamanta will treat Ms. Jamanta nicely."

How hurt was that girl? How ill-treated had she been just because she was not at the same economic level as her rich colleagues? How little loved was she to imagine, even for a second, the love between Mr. and Ms. Jamanta?

I tried brightening the moment by offering her another pastry, but she politely refused. "Do you want to go now?"

"If I could choose, I would stay here forever. I know I am much younger than you, but you are the first person to listen to me, except for my family."

"If I understand right, you are graduating at the end of the year?"

"Yep!"

"Are you going to be the valedictorian? I supposed so with a 9,5/10 average."

"Nooo! The Director called me the other day saying that I was the first in my class and that I was the natural candidate, but I said no! He was not convinced and talked to my father. I still said no."

"Has it crossed your mind that your father would be very, very proud if you were? Can you imagine you going up there, the poor kid, chosen because you are brighter than all the others put together? Can you imagine slapping them with kid gloves? Can you imagine making your father sooo very proud?"

"Oh, fuck Chris! Why did you put it this way?" She got red as a tomato and said. "Sorry, I don't curse that often."

I caught her chin and raised her head. "You get so much prettier when you blush! When we are together, you can curse as much as you want. I will let you know if you ever find a curse word I've never heard before." I raised her hand, which I was still holding, and kissed it.

I asked for the check, and we left the bakery. She thanked me again profusely, and I took her home, despite all her protests that it was unnecessary.

When we arrived, I said. "I hope we can do that again."

"Oh, Chris, we will. We certainly will."

I gave her a peck on each face and said, "Bye."

Six

We met almost every day at lunchtime and chatted for a while. One day, I suggested she remove her eyebrow piercings, which she did. The effect was overwhelming. When I saw it, I hugged her and whispered, "The butterfly is coming out!"

I didn't want to press my luck, but my new mission was to make her remove all other piercings. Ok, leave one in each ear, and that is a deal.

My quest became all the more difficult because her holidays ended, and she quit her job. On her last day on the job, she hugged me tightly, with tears in her eyes, and asked me not to forget her.

A couple of weeks later, I invited her to an ice cream evening again. I picked her up at her school, and we went to the same place we had gone the first time.

This time, she asked me. "Tell me everything about Chris without omitting the slightest detail."

I smiled and told her that, like her colleagues, I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I chose to be a nurse out of pure vocation. My parents were against the idea. They asked why I didn't become a doctor instead. I told them I didn't want to become rich from my profession; I wanted to help alleviate pain. To be fair, having inherited a lot of money from my Granny, whom I loved dearly, made that decision much easier.

She held my hand and kissed it. I hoped the gusset of my panties was doing its job.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"My schedule is the dating killer by excellence. I've had a few boyfriends, with whom I keep very good relations. Excellent, if you catch my drift. And I've had a few girlfriends too. We see each other occasionally, but a steady relationship did survive in neither case."

She looked surprised and asked. "Are you a lesbian?"

"Bisexual is a more appropriate description, but you seemed surprised. Does that bother you? The other day, when I asked whether you had ever dated a girl, you seemed bothered."

"No, it doesn't. I know very little about it all, but I couldn't criticize you even if I had a problem with it. You are my only friend! It just surprised me. You don't look like a lesbian."

"Oh! And what do lesbians look like?"

"I don't have any experience in that matter. From what I read and was told, they all were male-like women, both in clothing and behavior and were always hitting on other women. You are so feminine and delicate that I was surprised that you didn't fit the model in my head. And you never hit on me." After a few seconds. "Did you?"

I smiled and said. "You never know."

I didn't want to embarrass her any further and changed to safer subjects.

"Have you thought about being the valedictorian?"

"I had a long conversation with Dad and Fabi about that. We weighed the pros and cons and decided that I should do it. It's a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity."

I pulled both of her hands against my chest and said. "You can't imagine how happy you made me. There you go, girl! Show them all who rules!"

She smiled and said. "A friend of mine once said, like everything else in life, it comes with a price."

"Meaning?

"You will have to help me to write it."

"Done!"

"You are such a friend."

"Let's start now."

I borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from the waitress, and we started a list of themes she needed to develop. Thanking the school that gave her the scholarship, her teachers, her father, and her sister. She added, "Thanking Chris." I smiled at her and continued with the list of themes ending with "the message."

"Now you think about each item and organize what you want to say in your beautiful mind. I suggest about 15 minutes in total and half of it in 'the message.' Next week we go through point by point."

"Wow! You are so quick and organized! We have six months to write this!"

"Yes, baby! Do you forget I am an ICU nurse? No time for hesitation."

I looked at her face with examining eyes and noticed that the holes of one of her eyebrow piercings were practically invisible, but on the other side, the skin was torn, and it could be seen at a yard's distance.

"And another thing."

"What now?"

"Why don't you start removing those piercings? You don't need to dare your colleagues any longer. You already have, and you won!"

"There comes my Daddy again!"

"You try one pair per week. For me, will you?"

She exhaled deeply, and I pushed. "There aren't any invisible ones, are there?"

"Chris! What a question!"

"If your friend cannot ask it, who can?"

She smiled and asked. "My friend?"

"Isn't I?"

"You most certainly are. No, there aren't any invisible ones, despite the girl's insistence in the piercing shop. She wanted to pierce my nipples. Uuugh. The mere idea gave me the creeps."

"And no tats, I hope."

"None."

"Well, let us proceed carefully with your emergence from the pupa. The valedictorian must be a butterfly. Which reminds me, aren't you having a graduation ball around that time?"

"No. This is not a subject. Being a valedictorian is hard enough. Please do not go there."

I thought to myself. "Yes, we will."

Seven

We arranged to meet to develop her speech every ten days or so. Instead of the bakery, which was showing its effects on my scale, I invited her to come to my place.