The Truth About Cinder

by Alta Hensley

  "Elbi," Mistress Krin continued, "I think we can start the training off with you. The rest of you ladies can introduce yourselves to Cinder."

  Visibly bashful, Elbi's round cheeks blushed. She followed Mistress Krin to a long, slender, cherry-wood table. Without being asked, she lifted her pink-tinted silk sarong, exposing her nude bottom, and bent over the table.

  "I'm Maysa," another pretty girl said, snapping Cinder's attention from watching Elbi wait for her training. Maysa smiled warmly. "Don't worry, by the end of the week you'll feel right at home. It takes a few days, but you'll love it."

  The next few moments were a blur of introductions. Cinder did her best to memorize all the names, but the flurry of female attention overwhelmed her. The hushed chatter of women buzzed in her ears.

  She leaned in and whispered to Maysa, "What is anal training?"

  She shrugged. "It's different for each person. But basically, it's getting your anus ready for a cock."

  Cinder's mouth dropped in shock. Would she be expected to do all of this in the full view of others?

  "Don't look so shocked." Maysa giggled. "You better get over being inhibited real quick here. There's no privacy and no secrets in this harem. Even if you tried."

  The rest of the women went back to their business and conversations as if Cinder was already ancient news. Maysa remained sitting beside her.

  A loud slap, followed by a squeal, pulled Cinder's attention back to Elbi bent over the table. Mistress Krin was spanking her with a wooden paddle that was intricately carved like all the furniture in the palace.

  "Is that part of the anal training? The wooden paddle?" Cinder asked, trepidation causing her voice to crack.

  Maysa glanced over her shoulder with little concern. Apparently seeing another woman get hit with wood was of no surprise to her. "Oh, Elbi's been cheating. She doesn't like wearing her plug and has been sneaking it out. Mistress Krin noticed her tight hole isn't ready for the prince if he were to request her. So now she’s getting punished."

  "How would she know?" Cinder had no idea what Maysa was speaking of. How exactly would one be ready for the prince?

  Cinder watched as the paddle cracked against Elbi's red behind over and over. The pretty woman cried out as she wiggled her ass in an attempt to avoid each blow. Cinder didn't want to ask further questions about Elbi in fear of how naïve it would make her sound, but there were so many questions flooding her mind that she wasn’t able to help herself.

  Cinder took a deep breath, attempting to extinguish the electricity buzzing in her veins. "Does Mistress Krin do all the training?" She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Mistress Krin continued to spank Elbi. Watching the act made her stomach flip and her sex pulse for an unknown reason. Why would seeing a woman’s distress do such a thing?

  "I wish. She's the easiest. There are two more but the worst is Mistress Tula," Maysa replied.

  "What about Donte?" Just saying his name caused Cinder to miss his presence.

  Maysa shook her head. "You do not want Donte to punish you. Trust me."

  "Why?"

  Maysa smiled. "You'll see for yourself. But I'd much rather feel the sting of anyone's hand but his."

  Cinder almost shared that she had already been corrected by him, but decided to keep the information to herself. From the sound of it, Donte must have been pretty easy on her.

  Mistress Krin requested another woman of the harem to come join her as Elbi made her way back to where Cinder and Maysa sat. She eased her way down slowly, struggling to find a comfortable way to place her spanked and plugged bottom on the pillows. She winced as she sat.

  Maysa shook her head. "You did this to yourself."

  "Quiet. I wasn't asking for your opinion," Elbi said as she stuck her tongue out.

  Maysa chuckled.

  "So not fair!" Elbi whispered. "The plug is two sizes larger than the one I wore yesterday."

  Cinder looked at Maysa for explanation. Plug?

  Maysa smiled. "You'll see what a plug is in a few moments." She looked at Elbi. "Well, try not to take this one out. You make it harder on yourself."

  "I hate the plug. It bothers me," she pouted. "I'd rather get a spanking."

  Cinder found Elbi's honesty refreshing, if not endearing. "Do we have to wear a plug every day?" Cinder asked.

  "No," Maysa said. "There isn't a strong routine here. We just do as we're told. Some days there is training. Some days there are punishments. Some days there are rewards."

  Elbi crossed her arms against her chest, continuing her pout. "I want a reward." She adjusted her body again, grimacing as she did so. "This plug is too big. I hate it," she whined.

  Mistress Krin called out another name, and then another. Each lady of the harem rose with poise and refinement and made her way to the table. Cinder sat anxiously waiting for her name to be called. When it finally was, Cinder's heart stopped.

  She took slow steps toward Mistress Krin, each one being used to build her courage. Fear mixed with curiosity almost numbed her senses.

  As a woman of the harem, her turn had come.

  She had to keep telling herself that this is what she had wanted. This was what she had traveled across a ruined landscape to reach.

  She lifted the smooth material of her wrap, and at the same time, lowered herself across the table as she had watched all the women before her do. Feeling the cool air against her upturned bottom sent shivers across her skin.

  "Spread your legs." The command wasn't harsh, just simple.

  Cinder did as ordered.

  "Since you’re new, we’ll start with a small one." Mistress Krin reached around with the plug in her hand so Cinder could see what it looked like. It was metal, and a small purple stone sat at the base. Cinder found it odd that something so beautiful would be planted in her backside.

  Cinder could hear Mistress Krin put on a pair of latex gloves. Mere seconds later, a moist finger inserted its way past her tight opening. No warning was given, just a finger smearing a form of lubrication all around. Before Cinder could come to terms with the finger in her hole, it was replaced by the tip of the metal plug.

  "Relax," was all she heard as the plug pushed past her tight anus.

  A gasp, a clench at the edge of the table, were the only things Cinder could focus on. A biting pain, mixed with erotic fascination had her pussy beckoning for more. It hurt at first. Hurt more than Cinder had remembered from yesterday, but with every breath she took, the pain turned to a heated pulse in her core. The throbbing teased her need for more. The sting strummed at her lust.

  With a slight pat on her bottom, Mistress Krin broke the sexual spell. "You’re finished. Go ahead and join the other ladies."

  Cinder stood up and lowered her clothing to cover her invaded ass. With every step toward Maysa and Elbi, Cinder could feel the weight of the plug. Her sexual desire growing with every move she made, Cinder wondered if the women could read her ravenous thoughts.

  When she sat down next to Maysa, she understood why it had taken Elbi a few moments to get comfortable. Applying pressure to the base of the plug only made the intrusion more obvious. Cinder actually considered standing, but didn't want to single herself out as different.

  "Wait until you get to the size she put in me," Elbi whispered. "You'll want to sneak it out, too."

  Cinder smiled. She liked the devious sparkle in Elbi's eye.

  Anal training had begun. Cinder now stood as a lady of the harem.

  This is what she wanted.

  Her fairytale…

  7

  Months had passed filled with a leisure unfamiliar to Cinder. Hours of the day were occupied with relaxation, idle chat, and a sense of sisterhood she hadn't expected. When the harem were not being groomed or trained, they were left to flourish as women. Extracurricular activities were encouraged. Voice lessons, sewing, reading, and writing were only a few of the hobbies offered. Cinder had decided to learn how to play the guitar. Her instructor spent several hours a day teachin
g her the ways of the flamenco—music that originated in southern Spain many centuries ago. Something about the historical romanticism pulled at her soul. The way her fingers plucked at the strings, how the shape of the instrument reminded her of the female body, and the way the sound filled a room, hypnotized her. Everything about the instrument called to her, everything except the actual lessons themselves. She dreaded her next one, awaiting the wrath of Mistress Tula.

  "No, that is not how that works!" Mistress Tula shrieked as the lesson continued. Her accent sounded very similar to Donte's.

  Cinder cringed as her instructor picked up her foot and slammed it down on the marble floor, making a slapping sound that echoed in the huge room. Cinder sat back in her chair, holding her guitar close to her body. She wanted to ask why it didn't work, but she didn't want her to grow any angrier.

  Her instructor, Mistress Tula, was skilled in the art of flamenco guitar, but at this point, she seemed to only be bullying her around instead of actually teaching her. In fact, Mistress Tula hadn't picked up a guitar once since Cinder’s session started an hour ago.

  Mistress Tula paced back and forth in front of her, muttering something under her breath. She wasn't much older than Cinder, and her young, smooth skin crinkled as she furrowed her brow with frustration. Her dark hair was pulled in a loose braid, some of it falling into her piercing eyes. While Cinder herself was barely 5-foot-2, Mistress Tula stood at a lofty 5-foot-10.

  "I'm sorry," Cinder said in a quiet voice. She hated knowing Mistress Tula was disappointed or angry with her. It was the same with any of the training performed at the harem. In her mind, the harem had given her so much, and when she didn't excel at something, she felt ashamed.

  Mistress Tula whipped around to face her. "You’re sorry? Again, that is not how this works. You do not apologize in music. You make your statement with music and do not look back. Music is not an apology. It is the blood flowing in any musician's veins. Now, play that segment again and this time, do not be sorry."

  Cinder broke eye contact with her, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She raised her hand and launched into the segment of music, her body moving gently with the beat she devised.

  She loved the sound of the music more than anything, and loved that she chose it as her extra-curricular activity at the harem, but what Cinder hadn't known was how difficult her instructor was going to be on her. Mistress Tula was ruthless, often stopping Cinder in the middle of a piece or even after only a few seconds of playing. Sometimes, she wouldn't let her start playing until Cinder achieved the perfect posture, and because Mistress Tula wasn't satisfied easily, that could take up an entire lesson.

  But even while Mistress Tula was a strict disciplinarian to her in lessons, Cinder found herself taking a liking to her. There was something about the way she moved, the way her eyes seemed to see into Cinder's soul. She could see and understand the way the music put her in a trance.

  "Stop, stop, stop," Mistress Tula shouted, waving her hands.

  Cinder immediately cut off, her eyes growing wide. "What did I do wrong this time?" she asked, surprised at how bold her voice sounded. In her lessons, it was always, "What did I do wrong?" not "What did I do right?"

  Mistress Tula stared at her with a cold gaze. "First of all, a six-year-old's posture is better than yours right now. You have got to sit up properly and grip the guitar correctly, or else you will not play this music as it should be played. You are not giving it justice. Respect the music."

  Cinder gritted her teeth together to keep from snapping back at her. She was always so harsh on her, and Cinder expected the world to end before Mistress Tula ever gave her somewhat of a compliment.

  "Second of all, you missed several notes," she went on as she began pacing again. Her favorite thing to do during Cinder's lesson was pace; she hardly ever took a moment to sit down in her chair.

  Cinder let her shoulders slump as she listened to Mistress Tula list her flaws and mistakes. At this point, she hardly took offense to them. The woman had constantly insulted her and her playing ever since she started lessons, so she had grown accustomed to it.

  "Now, are you ready to start playing again?" she asked.

  Cinder nodded mutely.

  "What are you waiting for?" Mistress Tula demanded. "Start playing!"

  Cinder brought her shaking hands up to the guitar and carefully picked at the strings, fumbling through a line of notes and rhythms. With each note she missed or rhythm she messed up, she cringed and knew anger was probably bubbling up under her instructor’s skin.

  "Stop," Mistress Tula moaned, grabbing her head with her hands. "What are you doing? You have been taking lessons with me for a while now and you still play like a beginner. My other beginners could probably show you up if they were here right now."

  Cinder sat there, a lump lodged in her throat. All she did was look forward. If she looked at her instructor, Cinder knew she would end up bursting into tears.

  Mistress Tula demanded that she start playing again, making sure she got the notes and rhythms right. She jumped back into the music.

  Normally, playing this kind of music would have set her soul free, and every time she practiced it did, but with Mistress Tula, it felt like she couldn't express herself at all. It felt like Mistress Tula was expressing her vision through Cinder's hands.

  For the next hour, it was a trial and error process. Every time she missed a note or rhythm, Mistress Tula snapped at her or forced her to play that measure over again. With each insult she threw at her, Cinder became more and more unstable, the urge to quit lessons growing stronger—if that were even a possibility.

  For the fifteenth time, Mistress Tula stopped her and forced her to play a certain section over again.

  "Are you ready to start playing like an intermediate student?" she demanded.

  "Are you ready to stop insulting me?" Cinder snapped, but gasped instantly after the words passed her lips. They had been bubbling on the tip of her tongue and had just come out without her having control over them. Her heart stuttered… recognizing she was in trouble.

  Even without looking at Mistress Tula, she knew that the woman had stopped pacing and was glaring at her with her delicate hands folded behind her back.

  "What did you say?" Mistress Tula asked slowly, making the hairs on the back of Cinder's neck prickle.

  Finally, Cinder looked at her and made eye contact, even though she wanted to run straight out of the large room.

  "I'm ready to start being treated as a musician," she said slowly, her voice shaking a little. "Battering me with all the insults I've already heard before won't make me any better." What was she doing? Did she want to be disciplined?

  Mistress Tula leaned back on the heels of her feet and glanced up at the ceiling. "You are a feisty one, and very, very foolish." With a fluid motion of her hand, she pointed to the corner in the far right of the room. "Go kneel with your nose in the corner. Now!"

  Cinder gently placed her guitar in the open case, and stood on shaking legs. She made her way to the corner, trying not to look at Mistress Tula standing with her arms crossed against her chest.

  "When you reach the corner, remove your silks," she ordered. "I’ll go fetch Donte to issue your discipline. Do not move an inch."

  Cinder did as she was told without hesitation. She was in enough trouble as it was. The idea of Donte coming sent a panic through her. What would he do? She hadn't been corrected by his hand since that first time when she arrived at the palace, and the idea of being punished again sent a terrifying shiver up her spine.

  Her body trembled as she stared at the corner of the wall, listening closely to any sound. The wait was agonizing. Kneeling nude, in punishment, made her feel extremely vulnerable and tears threatened to fall. She didn't want to disappoint Donte. She kneeled long enough that her legs grew tired of the bent position. She adjusted her weight from one thigh to the other, fidgeting with her hands out of nervous energy. Just as she thought she would go m
ad kneeling there, she heard footsteps behind her. The heavy sound of boots hitting marble made it clear that Donte had entered the room.

  "Cinder," his voice sliced through the silent air.

  "Yes, sir." She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She remained facing the corner.

  "Mistress Tula informs me that you have been disrespectful. Is this true?"

  "Yes, sir." She didn't truly believe the words, but arguing would only make it worse.

  "Please turn around and face me."

  Cinder did as he asked and stood with her hands placed in front of her body. The fact that she stood nude before him, about to be disciplined, caused her lip to quiver. She quickly bit it to try to conceal her fear. She stared at the ground so she wouldn't have to look at his and Mistress Tula's glares.

  "Mistress Tula," he said, "please leave me alone with Cinder."

  The much softer sound of footsteps receding told Cinder her instructor was leaving the room without saying a word.

  When the door clicked shut, Cinder lifted her gaze enough to see Donte walk over to a chair and sit down. He patted his thigh. "Come here."

  Cinder had to will her body to move toward her impending doom. Step after step, she inched her way toward him. She stood before him and made eye contact.

  He patted his lap again. "Sit on my lap."

  She paused, taken aback that he didn't ask her to lie across it. She sat on his lap as he commanded, unsure of what was going to happen next.

  "Do you feel you deserve a punishment? I want the truth."

  Cinder took a deep breath. "No, sir. I don't believe I do."

  "Why is that?"

  "I was just speaking my mind," Cinder muttered. "Mistress Tula can be… infuriating during a lesson."