OOC: This is a closed thread for Perverse and I. Please read along and enjoy as we corrupt one of my favorite childhood fairy tales!
Skye sighed softly as she fingered her worn copy of Cinderella. It had been the last book her mother had read to her before she died, leaving the young girl with her Stepfather and two stepbrothers. How her life had changed that day! Her father had already died when she was just a baby and she had no extended family. CPS had been more then happy when her Stepfather had agreed to keep her instead of letting her be taken away to a foster home.
Even she had been happy with it...at first.
As she'd gotten older however things had started to change. The man she had called "Daddy" while her mother lived became colder, more withdrawn. Now and then she'd catch him looking at her in a way she didn't entirely understand as well though he never did anything inappropriate. Her stepbrothers were much older than her (were they 25 or 26 now? she could never remember) and simply ignored the small girl running around the house. As she'd gotten older however she'd even caught them looking at her in that same strange way her stepfather did.
Now she was 18 and she had finally started to understand the looks. What she was seeing was desire in their eyes. Sliding the book under her pillow she turned to look at herself in the mirror and a small smile curved her lips. She knew she was attractive enough with her chestnut curls falling to the middle of her back and the nearly black pools of her eyes, both courtesy of her mother. The hair and eyes stood out in sharp contrast to the pale Irish skin that was her birthright from her father. She wasn't tall, only 5'5, but she was lithe and well proportioned thanks to the sports her stepfather had always made her participate in, swimming and ballet chief among them, and moved with the natural grace of someone comfortable in her own skin.
Pulling on a pair of faded jeans and a favorite t-shirt she finally decided to head downstairs. It was her 18th birthday but she didn't expect anyone to remember it. Her birthdays had never exactly been celebrated since her mother's death and she just counted herself lucky that, unlike Cinderella, she wasn't forced to do all the chores around the house. Her Stepfather did well enough in his business dealings that he paid a pretty maid to come in and do that.
Skye sighed softly as she fingered her worn copy of Cinderella. It had been the last book her mother had read to her before she died, leaving the young girl with her Stepfather and two stepbrothers. How her life had changed that day! Her father had already died when she was just a baby and she had no extended family. CPS had been more then happy when her Stepfather had agreed to keep her instead of letting her be taken away to a foster home.
Even she had been happy with it...at first.
As she'd gotten older however things had started to change. The man she had called "Daddy" while her mother lived became colder, more withdrawn. Now and then she'd catch him looking at her in a way she didn't entirely understand as well though he never did anything inappropriate. Her stepbrothers were much older than her (were they 25 or 26 now? she could never remember) and simply ignored the small girl running around the house. As she'd gotten older however she'd even caught them looking at her in that same strange way her stepfather did.
Now she was 18 and she had finally started to understand the looks. What she was seeing was desire in their eyes. Sliding the book under her pillow she turned to look at herself in the mirror and a small smile curved her lips. She knew she was attractive enough with her chestnut curls falling to the middle of her back and the nearly black pools of her eyes, both courtesy of her mother. The hair and eyes stood out in sharp contrast to the pale Irish skin that was her birthright from her father. She wasn't tall, only 5'5, but she was lithe and well proportioned thanks to the sports her stepfather had always made her participate in, swimming and ballet chief among them, and moved with the natural grace of someone comfortable in her own skin.
Pulling on a pair of faded jeans and a favorite t-shirt she finally decided to head downstairs. It was her 18th birthday but she didn't expect anyone to remember it. Her birthdays had never exactly been celebrated since her mother's death and she just counted herself lucky that, unlike Cinderella, she wasn't forced to do all the chores around the house. Her Stepfather did well enough in his business dealings that he paid a pretty maid to come in and do that.