Moving Finger - Issue 3 - Brunel University

Tonight she would lose her virginity to the man she loved devoutly and who equally
loved her so.
Slowly Cinderella walked towards the bed. His firm lips were gently smiling at her; he
would always love her and take care of her. The prince folded back the sheets as she
climbed into the bed beside him.
Shyly she leaned towards him, placing an uncertain hand on his broad, bare chest. She
gasped as in a sudden movement he clasped her wrists with his strong, but gentle hands
and pulled her arms around his neck so that her soft body was pressed flush against his.
Their lips met in a tender kiss, which turned to one of passion. He dragged her into his
lap.
‘0w!’ gasped Cinderella as she tore her lips from his. ‘What was that?’ She flung back
the covers to see his strong, manly toes squeezed as far as possible into her glass slippers.
She looked up at him in shocked disbelief. He shrugged nonchalantly.
‘I had to find the other one, didn't I? Just the thought of wearing both of them made
me bloody horny.’
Zenam Khan
GINGER CINDERS
Ginger Cinders was a hardworking, loyal sibling to her two ugly sisters, Scaryella and
Poshwitch. She did everything for them: she fought with wild cats in the jungle to make
Scaryella's latest leopard-skin leotard, and she slew evil witches to provide her other
sister with her own little black numbers. Ginger Cinders was shy and timid. She just did
not have the confidence to stand up to her sisters.
‘I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want,’ screeched Scaryella, ‘I want you
to count my millions while I'm larging it in Boyzone's love den.’
‘O...okay, Scary One,’ Ginger Cinders replied nervously.
Poshwitch let out an evil cackle and the two of them left on their broomsticks. Poor
Cinders collapsed to the floor, sobbing her distressed heart out.
‘I wish I could go to the Boyzone Ball,’ she cried out, ‘I want to get one glimpse of
that lovely Ronan Keating. He's my ideal man, but...but now one of my sisters
will...marry him.’ The poor soul cried and cried until she could cry no more.
Suddenly, there was a spark of light and standing before Ginger Cinders was a fairy,
dressed in an Adidas tracksuit and trainers, and sporting a set of wings.
‘Who...are... y.you?’ Cinders managed to stammer as she hid behind the stack of
money her sisters owned.
‘I, me, child,’ replied the fairy in a high, Liverpudlian accent, ‘am your Sporty
Godmother.’ And with that the fairy cartwheeled three times and kicked high into the air.
‘Why are y'upset, me ginger whinger?’
‘My...my sisters are so successful. They are part of the Spice Girls and. and I want to
be one. They are at Boyzone's Ball and I love Ronan, but they wouldn't let me go. Please
help me, Sporty Godmother.’
‘Worry not, child. You shall go to the Ball. What you need is a party frock.’ Sporty
Godmother clicked her fingers and as if by magic, Cinders was transformed into
GINGER SPICE. Dressed in a Union Jack dress with six-inch high-heels, Ginger Spice
clapped in glee. ‘Now, me love,’ continued the fairy, ‘y'need confidence to become a
Spice Girl.’ She clicked her fingers once again. The transformation was straightway
apparent. Ginger Spice shouted and confidently wiggled her bottom.
‘I need a date for the Ball,’ she declared. ‘Get me the one and only George Michael.’
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