Chapter 8
Sleep came quick with her body exhausted and reeling from the pleasure of her first release while understanding her gender. Sleep came quick, but that did not mean it was the pinnacle of restful. Concern over why and what the hell was wrong with her to have Cinder's face slip into her mind plagued Joan's dreams. Many of which seemed to have sexual and darker tones.
Dream after dream plagued Joan, most of which beginning with thoughts of Pyrrha holding her close, kissing, loving and- that was when the feminine figure would turn to Cinder. A grimm hand gripping at Joan, at her sex, at her chest, her ass. The monster's human hand delving between her legs and bringing her to~
Joan woke, her length halfheartedly pressing against the sheets as she lingered on the cusp of release. She couldn't help but feel her sex press pleasurably against the pillow she slept with between her legs. It was good- it felt good, and when she pressed herself against the pillow she~ and when she thought of Pyrrha she~ when she thought of Cinder she~ Joan's eyes crossed and she rolled her hips slowly against the pillow, savoring every second as thoughts of Cinder- no Pyrrha! She was supposed to be thinking of Pyrrha! Pyrrha!
Still it was the thought of Cinder that had her come undone, that saw Joan tense and slump as her mind melted out her ears. Spent and exhausted, Joan fell back asleep. She fell back asleep just long enough for an alarm to already be blaring when she woke.
Always a bit of a mess, Joan was not unfamiliar with sleeping through alarms. With what was a normal amount of concern, Joan lept up and rushed to the alarm clock. Eight fifty five. "No, no, no nonononono." Joan let up and rushed to clean herself from the results of her heated night. The last thing she wanted was to be punished, but the last last thing she wanted was to be punished and seen with her own release covering her legs and stomach; especially seen that way by Cinder. Those thoughts were all that bitch's fault. If she hadn't tortured Joan… or tried to touch her there… or been doing any of this, Joan would never have had those dreams, that fantasy. Never! She- she only loved Pyrrha! She missed Pyrrha; longed for her. And- and these horrid, vile thoughts about the monster of a woman were certainly just a side effect of the reality that the only other woman she had seen since she woke from her coma was Cinder. That was all! Nothing else! Nothing more!
While grumbling to herself her frustration over her body and mind seeming to want to think about the wrong woman, Joan got cleaned up, threw on a new dress, new panties, and slipped into one of the pairs of heels from the closet. Thankfully, there was more variation in the closet, and after literal glass stilettos, well crafted heels with solid support and actual support felt… well, they felt like actual shoes.
Joan made her way back to the bed just in time. She sat there expectantly, anxious, terrified that somehow Cinder would know what she did last night, who she thought of and-
"Good morning." Cinder greeted, pushing the door open with her back as she held the tray of Joan's breakfast in front of her.
"Ah, good morning." Joan answered anxious and dodgy.
The moment Cinder turned to Joan she stopped. It was just for a moment, as if she needed to pause to note something down, and then she continued.
"What?" Joan looked around her bed, striving to check if she left some evidence of her crimes.
"I expected you to follow my instructions from last night." Cinder shrugged. "Eh, more you disobey, the more you will lose, the faster you will break."
"Huh? Instructions? I- I'm dressed, I'm wearing the heels from the closet and-"
"The remnants of your unwashed face does not count as putting on your own make up."
"Oh- cra- I'll go do it right now, I-"
"No, no, you won't get out of a punishment that easily." Cinder stopped Jaune from standing with a possessive hand on the top of her head. "You just eat your breakfast and I will work something out for you." Cinder dropped the tray in front of Joan. With a simple "Enjoy." She was gone.
Not wanting to incur any more of Cinder's wrath than she already had, Joan ate and decided to sleep in. She was only woken up by a rather docile ice saber coming to the side of her bed with a new meal on its back. Joan took the meal with a rather terrified look and the monster left with a little huff.
Joan didn't know what to do with herself. Of course it was an improvement from when she spent all her time groaning in pain and reeling from unending torture. But, now that she wasn't being stabbed on the regular, Joan had no idea what to do with her time. It didn't help that her mind was newly occupied with what in the hell Cinder would be doing to punish her and when. On one hand it could be something good, but on the other, it could be some ridiculous permanent change. Joan was a little hard pressed to think of something she actually wouldn't want, but the reality that Cinder could force almost anything upon her was moderately terrifying. It kept her anxious and almost shaky, so Joan decided it was time ot occupy herself with something; anything.
For better or worse, that anything ended up being makeup. By the case Cinder used there were makeup, there were wipes to clean up her face and start from a fresh canvas. Joan had seen her sisters do this hundreds and thousands of times. Hell, she'd likely had it done to her almost a hundred. It couldn't be too hard, right? Right?
Three hours later, Joan's whole face felt chapped and dry from how many times she had tried to wipe it clean and apply the makeup all over again. Lipstick was… well, it wasn't easy, but in general it wasn't impossible to get looking good. Joan actually liked the foundation, it covered a stray pimple or two and made her feel a little like she shined. It was everything to do with her eyes that seemed impossible. Every time Joan tried the mascara, she would end up with black dots on her nose, or jabbing herself with the pokey bristles in her eye, or marking up her eyelids, ruining the eyeshadow, or whatever else there was to mess up. Then there was the eyeshadow that just never really looked quite right. No matter how she did it, there either ended up looking like there was too much or too little. The colors never blended well, and she just felt demoralized with each try. Eyeliner was a nightmare. It never looked right. No matter how she did it. It just didn't look the way Cinder's or Pyrrha's did.
Joan sighed and pouted after another failed application. It still looked bad. By any stretch of the imagination, it looked at best like it had been done by an overzealous twelve year old. But… Joan still loved it. It was her, even if it was poor, even if it didn't feel like it fit with the contours of her jaw or cheek bones, even if she failed to do the feminizing blending Cinder seemed to do with such ease. Completely a mess, smudged and terrible, she loved it. She would get better with time, but for now, this might have been the most her she had ever been. And that, was a special sensation Joan seemed to be stumbling upon more and more.
In the end she settled to wipe it all back off and have a relaxing soak in the room's bath tub. Her feet appreciated the soak, and so did she. It gave her some time to relax, to unwind and breathe. She had actually forgotten about the impending punishment when she changed into the lone pair of traditional pajamas in the room's closet and had her dinner.
The dinner was good, warm, filling. Joan felt herself slip quickly with the new meal in her belly. So warm, so- so fuzzy. Huh, even the biggest dustmass eve meal didn't normally leave her feeling so… so… tired and… and… Why was the room getting dark again? The lights seemed to still be on. Oh! It was her… her heavy… heavy eyelids and… and… and…
"Night night Joan." A voice whispered from just outside Joan's darkening vision. "I would say it won't hurt. But it will." A taunting hand caressed Joan's hair. "Just remember, beauty is pain."
End of Chapter 8
