Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome Read Online Free PDF

sight of her garden, had her moving back towards the heavy wooden door leading to the basement.
    Her flat slippers did not make a sound as she descended the narrow stone staircase.   The old architecture of the estate that had been in Alexander’s family for centuries had remained basically unchanged, except for the upgrades of conveniences such as plumbing and electric wiring.   Some relative before him had replaced the original sconces that lined the stairwell and hallways below with amber shaded fixtures that produced almost the same delicious intimidating shadows for the walk to the dungeon that the fires must have emitted.   She imagined the terror the young women must have felt when walking down the cold steps while the flames flickered off the rough stone surface of the gray walls.
    At the bottom of the landing, Cynthia listened, and a few moments later she heard a scream and moan from the cell on the end.   “Sweet Pansy, again,” she whispered.   Alexander seemed to have a special fondness for the girl, though Cynthia could hardly blame him.   Her shrieks were crystal in quality, and made even her yearn to hear them again… and then, there were the unusual violet eyes.   Sloan always procured the most unique young women, and Cynthia was fairly certain her son would be keeping this flower until another struck his fancy.
     
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    Pansy reached her hands around the heavy chain and she searched for a release that she knew was not there.   Oh god … the concrete was cold and rough under her toes and she tried to push away.   The links through the ankle cuffs stopped her, and she looked at the man drawing the whip back again.   Pansy bit her lip to keep from pleading, because the Master would add two lashes if she did.
    A drip of sweat trickled from under her arm down her ribs, tickling and itching until it rolled onto one of the welts and stung.   Everything… even the natural act of perspiring… brought pain.   Always, pain.   She could not remember a time when she was free from it.   The Master stood in front of her, bare chested and looking as evilly handsome as always.   Pansy hated that.   She hated that with all of the terrible things that had been done to her, she still found the men in this tormenting family so arousing to look at.
    They enjoyed making her suffer, and then they would smile in superior control when they found her wet and excited.   It was something she still could not comprehend, but it seemed as though they expected her reaction of sexual arousal, and they either complimented or rewarded her for responding with heated passion.   Lately, she was humiliated with the uncomfortable knowledge that the sons or Master merely needed to enter her cell and her pussy would clench in mock desire.   Surely, the tightening wet spasms could not be true need… not when the price was so much pain.
    “Aaaaee…”   The whip crossed the tips of her nipples, and she saw the red stripe begin to rise across them.   The pain from the welts on her belly and thighs took a back seat to this new agony.   More useless tears flowed down her cheeks, causing Alexander to smile.   They always stopped short of letting her drift into unconsciousness to get away from the torment.
    Pansy looked up when she heard the heavy door open and she sobbed.   The witch had come in… the controlling force behind the men, and the reason for her abduction.   It was one of the first lessons she had learned, and Pansy knew without doubt that no matter who was training her, stepmother was in charge of the dungeon garden.
    Cynthia walked through the door of the cement cell and she smiled when her husband turned to the sound of her entering the stone chamber.   He was three inches taller than her own impressive stature, with hair as dark as midnight like her own, though his was silvering in dashing sweeps at the temples.   “The boys have left,” she informed him.
    “This collection is almost