The Princesses in the Tower, by Miras

[Miras]

7-4-2
Science fiction bound my mind and blocked my senses. I recognized Ode to Joy about halfway through. Until then, it could easily have been the theme of the original Star Trek series. Absent-mindedly, I asked for a present. How could anyone here give me anything I would show off to someone or use in society?

I intended to open a little green-wrapped piece of junk in the middle of our room, but Barbara and Therese were grinding their teeth, spoiling the atmosphere. They kept blaming me and Stacey for not holding Jenine accountable. Stacey and I went to the bathroom to congratulate each other on our shared genius.

"What did you get?" I asked her.

Stacey ripped open the blue wrapping and showed me the heat-massage pillow. That encouraged me to look.

“They know you well.” Stacey could hardly contain her laughter when she saw the small sculpture. Mickey Mouse was caning the dodging black ass of Minnie. Her shoe barely held on the feet with bright red nails.

"Aren´t you someone who would talk about perverted things while watching cartoons, Zita Hari?“

She hit the nail.

"That was sweet, touching, and explained Santa Claus perfectly!"

Anthony was humming holiday tunes along with me. We watched Arthur Christmas and enjoyed my favorite cartoon until the credits rolled.

"It's a wonderful way to get people excited about Christmas, it has a pretty original theme, and it also proves that a good story doesn't even need a villain," I judged as an actual critic. “I never understood why more people don't love it.”

Anthony got out of bed, took out the DVD, and put it back in my backpack.

"That what is special, eventually finds the love. It just has to be understood by the observant people."

Anthony stroked my cheek. He had the biggest muscles of any video gamer, and the great soul was supporting them. He thought about something and laughed so hard that the tail of his hair fell over his shoulder.

"That movie of yours could have been more daring. It could have shown the Santa family preparing presents for adults. Maybe even sex toys..."

"And then put them under the tree?" I burst out laughing. "Well, sure, for parents who don't have kids yet but still have sex. Who knows? Maybe some old folks put naughty packages under their beds, opening them on Christmas Night."

Anthony grinned. "And they have to be careful until their kids are old enough. Then, of course, their caution will wane. I ended up unlocking the locker of my folks, full of porn, sex tapes, and handcuffs."

That intrigued me. “So, some tendencies are hereditary.”

"Of course. I haven´t seen the whole footage of Mom and Dad in bed, of course, but to see Mom cooking dinner naked, handcuffed, and calling Dad 'master'... That's how I'll picture them the next time they laugh at me for wearing pajamas with Mario."

"That must be interesting. Serving a guy naked." Once I started talking about it, I had to move on to action. I stood up. I was wearing a T-shirt on top and just the bare essentials underneath. It was the first time he had seen me in panties, and I hoped he would soon discover what was underneath.

I touched the hem of the shirt. "Will you let me know how it feels?"

He licked himself. “Hold on, we'll compromise.“ He left me and returned, holding these medieval handcuffs with a massive chain and long bracelets.

"You wouldn't do much with the police ones, slave." He pulled my hands with surprising firmness. "Let´s see how you like making me tea and salad in this.”

It was a simple task, but when he gave me the command, my arms lost momentum, and I had to keep an eye on the chain in the kitchen the very act suddenly felt sensual. There was a shift in the space-time continuum.

 

[Miras]

7-4-3

“You look frustrated, Zita Hari.”

Stacey wouldn't be herself if she didn't say it satisfied.

"It's been more than a week now without a stimulus. I was curious about Mayson's secret, but he uses politics to confuse his opponents and make his friends even more dependent on him. But he is often rude to them because he realizes that his position is dependent on Green himself. I am losing my dignity there and...."

And I want someone to screw me, but you can´t say that.

"You're stressed because you wanted to control everything, and no one will let you take the helm instead," Stacey assessed. "For people like you, I'd say a few blows on the bare would solve it, but I'm probably not going to be very useful to you, am I?"

No, the woman wouldn't help me. In that case, the incident from last week, when we were making Christmas cookies in the kitchen, would have helped me. My baking tray got completely burnt, so the old cook said she would burn my ass. She bent me on the table, exposing my trembling buttocks, and pulled out a wooden spoon. I've experienced worse things, but it was a horrible thing how quickly she spread those stinging wounds and just laughed at my sobs. She ordered me to sing three Christmas carols without a break. She would beat me until midnight otherwise. I sang them, screaming, and when I finally thought she would release my ass, she ordered me to recite the recipe, which I just botched in the end. Let's say that by the time she finished the job, I couldn't talk or walk, and my ass could easily be used as an oven instead.

I came out of the bathroom. Barbara and Therese had gone to a party in the meantime.

“I need to work out,” I told Stacey. "Today will be my greatest gift if I stay at the gym until midnight."

Well, yes, but my parents didn't pick up the phone. What can I talk about on the internet?

„I can easily explain it in detail, but the gist of the argument will remain the same. Tidus proved himself as an external protagonist of Final Fantasy X, so it makes sense that Vaan was put in a similar role in Final Fantasy XII, this time not as someone ignorant of the world but as a boy unfamiliar with the intrigues of Princess Ashe and Vayne. In both cases, it's about using our perspective."

PrinceLordLamontSolidor: I beg you, Tip, take a break from your madness! Play Final Fantasy VIII, for example.

It's bad luck when people who are most similar to you put you down.

So, what about your blood? I tried to call my parents again. I was patient. At one point, I thought I would just let them ring and pedal the exercise bike until they picked up. Maybe they know they have a daughter who at least wants to hear their voice at Christmas!

Nothing, they didn't take it. I logged in to Sleipnir Neighs again. I couldn´t admit I was a woman, but there was one way to satisfy myself. I picked a few friendlier members online and sent them a personal message.

Is anyone of you bi?

Vanyel answered me. Yeah, I always thought of myself as one. Why?

I chuckled.

„Would you like to go with me to the immoral beach in Middle-Earth?“

Vanyel: "Don´t worry. I'm already there. What do you look like, and what are you doing?

Great! „I come from the sea. I am a magical being. Half-human, half-jellyfish creature. I possess long, whip-like tentacles sprouting out of my head. They sting but bring luck. You find me irresistible. Soon, your pants are down, and you are standing in front of me in shorts and a shirt. The shape of the shorts shows how excited you are.“

Vanyel: Well, great. I want a lot of happiness and sex in my life. So I come to you and kiss your cheek. One of your naughty tentacles finds its way to my shorts and burns my anus. It excites me, but I feel terrible. I fall on all fours and can't speak, so I bark, but you don't take out the tentacle. You drive it into my guts!

The dominant side of me awoke.

„I'm taking the tentacle out of you and taking your shorts off. My Undersea Kingdom sends us another gift – the huge bench with leather straps – for legs, arms, and waist. You lie on the top of it and show me your sexy ass. I´ll tie you up – after I cut your shirt open with a knife. You stay put anyway and let me immobilize you. Looks like you're looking forward to the stingings. And you will get them. First, I'll give you a few on your calves and thighs. Almost playfully. Then I start to concentrate on your ass. It's not even very red initially, but you can feel it. You beg for mercy and throw yourself away! But I don't stop until you moan and my tentacle touches your ass at least thirty times. The change then is that I will start it on your back. You relieve yourself by screaming, and I don't react to it for a long time because it excites me so much!“

Vanyel: Since my mouth is still open, you thought it might be worth filling it. You shove your hard cock in my mouth, and I try to hook you up. Your tentacles continue their work. They cross themselves on my back, they drum on my ass, they give their kisses to my legs. Everything burns for me in no time, and you only stop so that I don't stop feeling the pain! I can already feel you cumming. Not sperm - salt water!

I said goodbye to him while I was still horny. I might return to my room in a minute, take my chastity belt off, and start my typical number. Cheerfulness stirred the blood in my veins, which made me a little more hopeful. Maybe Mom and Dad will pick up the phone after the third try.

I rested there, but it soon became clear I would not hear voices this time either.

Jesus Christ. They were worried about me before, and rightly so, I might add. These days, they might not talk to me, and I will be worried about them, even though they are probably perfectly safe.

How many numbers did I know in our neighborhood? The Carltons were definitely on my mind. Their son talked a lot, especially about giant turtles, but he supported me in everything, and I had a once-in-a-lifetime conversation with his parents. I took a risk and entered their number. Someone picked it up after the third ring.

"You probably don't want me, but please don't spoil the boy's time with the present." The old voice faltered for a moment. "He´s only got me here, but he's too ashamed to cry in front of me."

That didn't add to my optimism. I knew the Carltons also had a grandfather at home, covered in wounds from Iraq, but I had never spoken to him.

"Mr. Carlton, my name is Lisa Eaton, and I am a friend of the Woodroofs. I´ve been calling them, but they don't answer."

Old Carlton swallowed. "Don't want me to talk about it too long, Lisa. Family investigations came for the Woodroofs a week ago. My daughter-in-law belonged to the same Readers' Club as Mrs. Woodroof. The spies found out how the ladies were taming their husbands. Soon, they will stand trial. Wives and husbands alike."

 

[Miras]

7-4-Finale
I brought Anthony his beverage and salad on a tray. “I hope you enjoy it, Master.” I tried at a sexy turn, topped off with puckering my butt. I hoped this would accentuate my round buttocks and make my boyfriend more grateful for his sexy submissive. I placed the tray under the TV that showed, and I touched the cabinet with the chain. God, it felt exciting to prove its existence, once again, a symbol of devotion to the nice guy who had the right to know my body like no other boy had before.

"No, no. You are going to bring it straight to me!"

It was a stern, commanding tone. I immediately took the food and brought it to the bed with a smile. It looked like my sweet angel still wasn't quite satisfied.

"You look too proud, slave. Lower your gaze. This food is for me. It has nothing to do with you."

I tried to move like a machine, and according to his instructions, I tried to look at him like a humble maid. At the same time, I also climbed up so that the chain framed my lap. I wanted him to know that I was available to him if necessary.

Anthony was still more interested in my body than in the salad, which he was taking apart bit by bit. "Too bad I put the chain on you before you took your shirt off, slave. I can't see your tits like that. I don't want to rip your clothes off and take the chain off..." He moaned. "I hate to disturb such a beautiful symbol."

He probably wanted me to reply. "If you don't want me to hike it, I can soak it, master." I tried to say it both helpfully and sensually.

Anthony laughed again and ran his muscular hand over the bracelet on my left arm.

"If you do, could I take a picture of you?"

“Of course, master!” I guess we're still playing the game, aren't we?

"Can I show it to my parents? Then I could send it to yours?"

I didn't know how a proper slave would respond now. I felt the tip of my tongue on my nose, making me feel like an actress who had forgotten her role.

Anthony looked thoughtful. "Sure, they shouldn't see I had you here half naked. But what if you put your pants on, and I took a picture of you with the chain to show Dad? You and Mom would take your clothes off and serve us."

I already started sputtering, a little angry, and laughing.

"This should be individual, right? Your Mom belongs to your Dad, but she's still your superior. I'd belong to you."

Anthony blinked. "Well, parents. Our first dominants in life. Even if they sometimes say they're our submissives. Anyway, in a real family, everyone should somehow serve each other."

I ended the contact with the world for today, even though I wanted to scream at the world in a frenzy. I packed up the browser and called the warden. I couldn't go to Mayson. I didn't know anything legally, and didn't think about what I could offer him. Or anyone through him. "Take me to see Larissa Lewandowska," I ordered the warden. I sweated every step. I imagined my parents in a detention cell. My mother whipped on a pillory. She and my father shivering in the rags and chopping wood in the coldest parts of Canada. These were still the most beautiful images. I tried to keep the worst ones from gaining concrete shapes and colors.

"She is not here," said drowsy roommate of Lewandowska and shrugged.

I needed to use every last resource of my girlfriends. Sometimes, on the way to my room I would stop and stomp. The Warden would pick me up and carry me, but once she concluded she had humiliated me enough, she would put me back down.

Therese was still not in the room, so I suggested that Lewandowska had taken her somewhere.

Disaster, I signaled. I had to repeat some words four times to make them understandable.

It will be hard to test Damasio or virtually anyone, Stacey signaled. It's a big case. We can hardly defend just two accused without them tracing it back to us.

There may be more ways to help them, Barbara remarked. I thought she was babbling.

My new relatives might know some of them, she continued. Not to mention some of the old ones. Unless, of course, you still don´t want to tell Mayson the truth about Jenine.

I looked anxiously at the door to see if Therese was coming back. She must not hear of this idea. That is the morally preferable opinion. I just didn't know if I wanted an alibi so I wouldn't commit treason alone.

Is love always a good excuse for betrayal?

 

[Miras]

Chapter 7, Part 5 (1)

Barbara

The good thing about being pregnant is that when you suffer from self-talk, you can tell yourself (ha, ha) that you are speaking with your baby. You are making your problems seem insignificant. You are grateful you are never alone. You are starting to tell the first fairy tales.

Except… Would they be about some miraculously conceived child coming to the human world to save it? Or about a mother trying to save her daughter or son from the corruption of the said world?

"Wonderful Christmas," I sighed.

It was killed by the caring about family, signaled Stacey.

My mom was under stress because I had been here! Zita panicked. Let them punish me!

"Warden!" I kicked at the door senselessly."I have a request to present to the principal!“

The helping hand saved the door and patted my shoulder.

Mayson´s recess wasn´t left unguarded. Spokeswoman Arnolph was lying on the sofa in the middle of the foyer, caught in the middle of reading a microbiology magazine.

"Principal won´t see you," she growled brusquely.

"I need to speak about my father-in-law. About seeing Romanos in person."

"You will see them in a week. We will not be bothered by you afterward." I remember her speaking in raptures when she was talking about orders, new and old, but when addressing me, she could fill the airport announcements with that monotone. She flatly refused to respond, so I went to the Lovemaking Bar, where it was overflowing with Heirs.

"I´m looking for someone who despises Mayson This much!" I gave them the gesture of any proud or hogwash-telling fisherman.

"I fit the bill." Oriona Termen joined me, as did her dandy friend Thomas.

The sight of two women and a man unsettled Arnolph, and she disappeared into Mayson´s office, throwing her magazine on the sofa. Oriana and Thomes smiled at her flickering legs, but they ignored me once she came to negotiate my inlaws.

Arnolph remained terse the next time she appeared, not allowing us even the tiniest glimpse of Mayson. "Romanos might come earlier," she confirmed.

A hollow triumph.

To my relief, Zita proved to be grateful, and as an act of respect, she used my shoulder blade to rest her head against, breathing heavily. Therese returned before I did, but she told us that Lewandowska would hear us when she was willing to listen.

"The Prefect is planning crimes that even the other Hunter would consider foul," Therese concluded. Since I had zero trust in my attempt, I hoped we could reach Larissa.

From evening to morning, Zita was either on foot, robbing Therese and Stacey of their sleep, or in my bed, begging for comfort. Once, I let Therese cuddle me, so I would feel like a hypocrite if I refused her.

"It will be ok. We will help your folks." I pitied her honestly. I smoothed my stomach because I felt that new life inside me could send us energy and spirit that the bad guys could only dream of.The very same new life woke me up after sleeping for a single-digit number of minutes, pushed my head to the toilet, and emptied me of the food I liked, renewing my accelerating appetite for beans. I think that love and hate in motherhood are just as close as in marriage. Still, it didn´t extinguish the light I saw when I closed my eyes and felt that creature growing and gaining strength.

 

[Miras]

7-5-2

It was the deepest wish of mine to hear my baby´s bubbly voice, but she, or he, wasn´t responding. I could rely on a one-sided conversation If I didn´t receive anything.

You see, my dear fetus, mommy was glad to escape the presence of her roommates, cursed with much more troubling issues than she had. However, she was bitter that holiday free time had ended and that they divided her group among special courses designed to spare the regular teachers.They didn´t give Mommy anything for the morning sickness, but they put her in the modified gym, where the smiling instructor promised her she would provide the trainees with something to calm their nerves. This tall, foxy Indonesian was a star of some government-sponsored material for young men, and she taught us so-called Male superiority yoga.

"Sit down, smile, and imagine airplanes. They made them of heavy material. It took strong men to build them and able men to fly them. They are the product of their minds and their muscles. They could do it without the help of women, but they indeed needed them because when women acted according to their station, they channeled their feminine energies and made sure their men were even stronger and more creative."

I don´t know if you like the image of an airplane little creature. I am not sure what you would like to play with. Should I imagine two Barbie dolls piloting the machine to balance the image? That would go against everything this lesson was trying to convey and force me to laugh, so I opened my eyes unnoticeably. Other inmates used the time to breathe and empty their heads. Now and then, I saw a blissful expression on some faces, and I tried to convince myself that they were not visualizing what the Indonesian was brainwashing them about. But I was here with some women whose situation was close to surrender. Jennifer is supposed to marry her Heir. He claims to have deeper feelings for her, but when she has her eyes open, they seem to me to get deader every week.

I talk to Helen whenever possible. She is the nice gal in the bunch sluts, and she welcomed me to the table. But as the suffering inmate discovers she wanted to be here, she spits into her cooking pot. Helen could have made a guy out of herself to rule over us. That is how they talk about her. And sex change is forbidden.

And then there is Sylvia – the other Brunkow. She would be the fairest parent for you and a good partner for me. However, she would have to leave Roberta first.

What's that? Would you like to jump out of the comfort of my womb to stop the bad guys? Would you use the usual exit, or should I propel you by my tongue? Lewandowska could have made a difference, but I don´t see her meditating.

"You look lost," I said to Sylvia during the break, unsure of myself.

"I have a class to prepare for tomorrow. Do you want to help me?"

I nodded. I wished to talk to someone other than my roommates or you, my sweet child.They allowed me to help her wash some sock puppets for a performance of Twelfth Night, but I think I went to her to ask innocent questions.

"Did you ever want children of your own?" I asked, soaking the future Malvolio.

Sylvia smiled and wrang the piece of cloth. "No, I´m content with family or with families. My parents, my amazing wife, Roberta´s father. Many children in school, growing up before my eyes."I stopped working. "This thing. It just happened to me."

Sylvia splashed me with her wet, comforting hand.

"Well, you didn´t have it before, but luckily, there´s a strong family ready for you.“

Is she hinting that I should shed the past completely? Easy for her to say. The love of her life never left her side, never perished. "I talked to old man Romano," I said with a trace of defiant tone. " Domingo is a cool man, and he likes me. You would never believe he makes rhino flies. I saw the ruins of Honolulu..." I sobbed. "But I have never seen Enzo´s brother Michael. He is grieving and thinking about Enzo, not the life with me and the baby."

"Looks like they have been grooming a sensitive groom," Sylvia quipped.

"He looked as if he´d had too much egg nog, though I understand you can´t say that to any of his friends, of which he has none, apart from you," said a whispering voice in the corridor. It belonged to Sylvia´s wife. She pricked up her ears but instantly lost her color, hearing who answered Roberta."He knows he is barely in charge," Arnolph said. "He is as imposing as a scarecrow if you are smarter than a bird. If he doesn´t recover, the lightning will strike him."

"And the field would burn," Roberta stated. "But why are you asking me? Because I came to know about the funky drugs?"

"Yes. Therefore, I can talk to you about some other secrets."

They were getting closer, but Roberta wasn´t responding anymore. She only spoke to us when she opened the door. "I will put your things in order, and you will put mine, dear," she said to Sylvia. "Ms. Arnolph noticed you had Miss Pignon here. That is why she followed me."

Sylvia shrugged reluctantly.

"Don´t you understand?" Roberta asked me. "She requires you to go to any hell she has designed for you."

Arnolph was warmer to me, altogether impersonal compared to yesterday.

However, she insisted on telling me nothing about our destination.

A weird guy was waiting for us in front of the Holy Submission lounge. He was elegantly tall but had soft arms and long, feminine hair. He also looked at me as if he didn´t like girls and in other than a misogynistic sense.

"Good morning," he said softly.

"Allow me to introduce you," Arnolph said with more energy. "Michael Romano, this is Barbara Pignon."

"Michael?!"

"Yes," Enzo´s brother whispered. "Your fiancée, second in the family as always, but is useful when you look for a father of one´s nephew." He sighed and put a smile on his face. Any surgeon would make a better one, but then I would have to give him time.

"Speaking of fathers, you should get the rest of your Christmas present, Miss Pignon." He opened the door, and two people shook my hand even before Michael - his dad Domingo-

And my dad - Marcelle!

 

[Wragg]

And my dad - Marcelle!

Oh... hi Dad!

 

[Miras]

7-5-3
"Open, Mom!" I called her out with Dad by my side. "Or should we go to the tree first and throw all the presents at you? You better open the window and believe in our aim!"

Dad knocked on the door. I think he was trying to make the sound of jingle bells.

"I´m not going to open until I can see the faces of all of us, you scoundrels!" Mom tried to sound silly, but I had trained my ear enough to discern she was worried. There wouldn´t be a Christmas for her without Viola attending, albeit from a distance, on the display.

It wouldn´t be accurate if I said my sister did what she wanted. She was fulfilling the will of my brother-in-law. Sometimes, he was willing to overlook that Viola´s parents opposed his views. Other times, he was unforgiving.

"At last! Viola, I´m glad to see you!"

Before Mom could unlock the bedroom door, she was disheartened to hear Viola.

"I wish you all a great Christmas, but Dwight told me I must turn this off within a minute. That was our deal."

"You traded us for something?!"

"Just the opposite. Dwight told me I would have a chance to exchange holiday greetings with my rogue family if I made love to him in front of his uncles. Mom, Dwight wants to be a member of the Conclave. They say he must have clean hands, always only commanding his children and, at worst, making strict deals with his wives. Marriage is an unequal business. Please, go to Dad and Barbara.""I think they have heard you enough."

We didn´t hear anything out of her bedroom from then on.

"I´m going to get the ladder and knock on her window," Dad said after it was clear she went silent.

I have many guests, my unborn child. The most prominent was your uncle, whom I will introduce as your father, wondering when would come the right moment to tell you the truth. He walked away from your grandfathers, whose eyes were broader and brighter the closer they were to me."Dad!! Dad!!!" I hugged him and crumpled up his concert suit.

"Dad, is Mom here too?" I whispered.

"They allow only men to come, my cute flower."

I had to remind myself that I didn´t talk to my Dad via illegal transmissions, but I was no less happy when I saw his face and kissed him close to his fleshy lips.

"I love her, and I love you, Dad. And I love you, Domingo! Thank you!"

Older Romano looked at us with a brief but sincere smile.

"I have heard that you want to meet Michael, so may this be a taste of home that awaits you, Barbara. Us, in a house. Your parents living in the neighborhood. Could you ask for anything more?"

His voice contained a little threat. A drop of sweat fell from his imperfect tonsure.

"We celebrate Christmas, and I´ve never seen the man I´m supposed to marry. I want to start a business."

An equal business.

Domingo put his hand on my Dad´s shoulder. Considering his broad chest and steel fingers, I couldn´t help but think of my lightly built father as a hostage.

"Then you have one day for your bargaining. While your father and I were traveling here, we started a fascinating conversation about golf versus Wagner. We have to play at least five rounds. The four of us will see each other for lunch and dinner. Hopefully, you will be wiser by your last supper."

He dragged Dad out of the lounge and gently closed the door.

I glanced at Michael and offered him a chair.

He shook his head. "I´m sorry, I´ve been sitting for that whole bland trip. I don´t think our conversation will take that long, anyway. You will state what you expect, I´ll state the same, and we´ll tell our fathers that we have a basis for order in the marriage. As if such thing was ever possible."I reached into my pocket and took out yesterday´s present. "Look, Enzo can be with us today." I hoped it sounded nice as I handed over the photo, my finger framing Enzo´s face.

"That´s great," Michael said, even more reserved. "You want to talk about my brother? I know he is dead. I will be reminded of that every moment I look at you, every moment I look at his child. I was never ashamed that he was a guy I could never compete with in manliness as long as I was his protégé. He served our father in the same way. Now, there is a hole in our home. You can give birth, but no baby will fill that dark space. I can write a book of sad poems, and that will not bring back any light to my father and mother." He stopped and gave me the pendant back. "This is about you and me, Ms. Pignon, yes? You want to negotiate, you want to bargain? I want us to see each other by the meal and after the agreement. I´m still unsure why we are discussing here and not in our place tomorrow?"

I was startled. "In your place?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You don´t know? Your extraction will happen today after the dinner."

My knees felt heavier, and I had to sit down. I used to be impatient to leave the Tower, but first, my classmate needed me.

I should eased him in. "I´m sorry if you don´t fancy me."

He replied immediately. "You aren´t as attractive to me the way as you were to Enzo, I suppose. Meaning I must be picky with my second wife. But I wanted to understand our new society a little better before I had a family of my own. A wife who might complain. A child who will ask questions."Our gazes locked.

"I have one more condition, Ms.Pignon. Now you can name your terms."

"I and some of my friends are in the Loyalist program. One of them, Zita Woodroof, was recently given secret intel by the Principal. Her parents and their many friends were arrested because the husbands submitted to their wives. They are going to stand trial soon. I need a legal assistance."I expected Michael to sit down, but he didn´t. He merely crossed his arms over his chest.

"Such trials can sometimes set the accused free," Michael said. "One must arrange the big show out of it to convince the court that being merciful when dealing with ´deviants´ will bring the advantage. My father told me of some Singerton, an old regime law expert who sometimes managed to reach the innocent verdict. We better hurry. Conclave guys would like to arrest him. They suspect he is helping women to emigrate. I don´t know. I´ve never been into celebrity stuff or politics. I barely understand the trade."

I exhaled. "Thank you. That was my condition. What is yours second?"

He gulped. "I may not be interested in what´s going on in America, but my father is talking about stuff beyond all the time. The population in Iceland is difficult, and Gilbert is planning mass deportations and new colonization. I know it might be a bit hard after you saw here, but I would like you to be the face of the new settlers. The first mother whose seed will touch the evacuated island. Of course, eventually, you will live with all of us, as Father promised."

Dear baby, I don´t know if it was you or your uncle who made me vomit.

 

[Miras]

7-5-4
They thought me too fragile, and it was because of my current state they couldn´t shove their truncheons up to my throat for the reeking scraps I scattered over the carpet. I acted as a confused wretch and asked for tea and a friend to chat to, meaning Stacey.

Your guy must find Singerton and ask him to defend them.

Stacey shrugged. I hoped I relieved her of doing something miserable.

I´ll go to the gym ASAP. But if this guy is helping people escape, maybe he might benefit from Lewandowska´s resources. After the trial, I agreed. I hope she will believe in him.

Now that they had exhausted their spare bits of sympathy, they decided that a little punishment wouldn't hurt and sent me to clean up with the girls who wanted nothing to do with Christmas - Basma and Amber. I felt safer amidst the noise of the vacuum cleaners.

"Basma, I saw your Roberta talking to Arnolph about someone whose position is in jeopardy. They were unusually friendly. Do you have any idea what's going on between them?"

"No," said Basma. "When Roberta deals with a woman, I die a little. Which means that since I have to live here, I'm just waiting for the Day of Resurrection."

"I suspect something," I said. "I think most of the dirt will be around the Principal's office." the girls were curious, too. We took the elevator up and seemingly worked diligently between the office and Mayson's room.

We didn't have a key that would let us into the principal's office itself, but we each cleaned a bit apart and looked around for possible visitors. We didn't hear the slightest noise from anywhere, but in a few minutes, someone called the elevator, and it was heading towards us. I told the girls to prepare for a stealthy exit.

The elevator opened, and we swapped places with compelling women. Arnolph went first again, and if the look could be poisonous, the black mamba would envy her. We delayed closing the door so we could see the spokeswoman slightly open the entrance to the principal's quarters. Also, a doctor passed by us, holding a large bag, which you would take before joining the climbers.We delayed closing the door so we could see the spokeswoman slightly open the entrance to the principal's quarters.

"So, it's not a mystery," I pointed out on our way down. “Mayson is sick, and apparently, someone did this to him on purpose."

"Schmo Yisroel!" said Amber.

"Allahu Akbar!" Basma added.

It took us more than half an hour to find out where Lewandowska was. The vacuum cleaners got us to the Lovemaking Bar, where the Heirs directed us to polish the furniture so we wouldn´t disturb the sensual French singing performed by a Polish woman and several other pole dancers. Strangely, the Heirs were still aroused by the sight of the ladies in their "study" underwear, whether they were spreading their legs or crying. If anyone couldn't take the pressure, a lady was strolling in a cat costume, which had holes in three predictable places. Some gentlemen tried to use the same hole at the same time.

I spotted Zita at a table, so I stayed for a long at her place. We were waiting for the same person together, and we got her. Lewandowska, soaked in many places from the splatter of semen, was pleased with what I had found.

I'm going to contact the girls today and tell them that Green is probably trying to take Mayson out, she signaled. Who knows, maybe he might want to work with us. It would be an excellent tool to push moderate politicians.

That interests you, Zita pointed out. What about the Singerton? Can he save my mom and dad and our neighbors and mom's friends?

Internal dissent and its influence are debatable at this point, Lewandowska argued. Barbara can take care of that. But prepare yourself, girl. From what I hear, we can save them from exile, but the men will have to pay a fine- And the women will receive corporal punishment, though probably not in public.

No! Zita took a quick drink from a tall glass of tequila to cover her grimace. Won't let them whip mom. Even if she survives, it will break her!

Let's hope that Singerton is a good lawyer, Lewandowska tried to be sympathetic. Then she will only get a cane.

 

[Miras]

7-5-5

Zita´s face was drained of the tiniest drop of blood – her features blurred on the white mask around her eyes. The perspective of the lunch inevitably agitated me, but this was supposed to be the climax of my engagement.

I took Michael´s hand about a turn from the lounge. He regarded me as if I were the last straggler to arrive at the prom night.

"Have you thought about my proposal?"

I was glad he asked me so quickly. "Do you think you can use every bit of your connections and generous pay for this Singerton, that it is possible they could get away without punishment?"Michael sniffed. "They could get away with community service, but that would be a stretch."

"That´s my price."

Dad and Domingo rose ceremoniously from their seats, and once we were all seated, the cooks served the Camembert with vegetables.

"You used to be done with your meal in three minutes, Barbara," my Dad remarked, although he may have bitten his tongue afterward.

"Dad, you know what I´ve been through," I said, hoping Romanos would praise me as a wailing widow.

"What did you do when she talked to you like that, Marcell?" asked Domingo in a surprised tone.

"She never did." Dad didn´t want to dwell on it, but the father of his future son-in-law investigated further.

"The people here may not be up to your parental authority." He stood up and made him do the same. "I suggest you and Michael train for the wedding night and give her a good belting."

Michael and I stopped eating. "Barbara did nothing…"

"She has done plenty of wrong. I think her hiney should be tanned with the very instrument traditionally used to remind ladies who is wearing the pants."

Dad´s hands trembled. "I have never hit my daughters."

Domingo grinned. "Mr. Pignon, I think a statement like that could be a basis for a charge of child neglect."

"She wanted a sweet life with us. She should be taught of bitter parts as well," Michael said.

And Dad needed to know the new normal.

"If my new family wants it, I will suffer for it."

I stood up, pushed my plate into the middle of the table, and prostrated myself on the table.

"One of you, lift her skirt. She wouldn´t feel a thing."

I heard Dad´s footsteps and then just felt him exposing my panties.

The sounds of the belt being unbuckled could no longer scare me. Suddenly, my stomach turned because of who was going to thrash me and how he must feel about it.

SLAP!

It stung only a little, but I overdid it with yelping to make it look like he was doing a better job.“Marcell, your little girl won't learn anything like that. The belt is a pretty safe instrument. So feel free to put your manly strength into it.”

SLAP!!

This time, I didn't have to fake a scream. Unlike the first strokes, which only hit a small spot on my butt, thanks to Domingo, I felt leather across both cheeks, and the information that I would have a hard time sitting came into my head again. My bottom instinctively wriggled from side to side but, at the same time, began to absorb the pleasant warmth.

"Marcell, you don't know the basic craft when it comes to punishing women and children. You´re not holding her at all. Besides, you left her panties on, so you don't have to spare her."

I heard new, heavier footsteps and the sound of a massive strip being pulled out of Domingo´s pants. I closed my eyes as his strong hand landed on my back.

"Step aside. I will show you what awaited my sons for disrespect."

WHACK!!!

"OWWW, OWWW, OWWW, OWWWW!!!"

I would have assumed that spanking would no longer surprise me and that I would mostly appreciate it, but there is nothing worse than being inflicted with pain by someone who has experience and enjoys it. Domingo took breaks between the strokes, so I absorbed them slowly. His belt kept changing angles. It looked like he was drawing a picture on my ass when in fact, he was making sure he didn't leave an unblemished part on it. About every fifth one, he aimed at my thighs without reducing the force of the blow in any way. The movement resembled a dance, during which I kept telling myself that the pain couldn't possibly get any worse, but it always surprised me. My ass begged me to dodge, but I couldn´t because of Domingo's hand, so I attained relief by screaming and crying. By the time Domingo finished, I was out of tears. It didn't change my feeling that my ass was stuck in a fireplace.

"Don't think you won't have it on your wedding night anyway, miss," said a satisfied Domingo. "Michael, you can get ready for it. And you're the only one of us who can get Barbara's panties down."

The fathers stepped back, and Michael took their place. "Pretty red," he commented as he examined my unprotected ass. "I´ve got to take a picture of this."

His strokes were almost playful. He gave them to me in the middle of a speech, always to a small spot, but it was clear that he knew where it would hurt me the most.

"Today- WHACK- you begin life with your master –WHACK - and you will learn -WHACK- how a real household works -WHACK- so that it does not fall apart - WHACK- and you benefit from it-WHACK-for which you will have to pay!"

WHACK!

I was really squealing like a little girl.

The way three men passed my ass was not nearly as humiliating as having to kiss their hands.Michael was right, of course. I had to lie down on the sofa in the lounge and eat lunch from the side table. I had a new taste for it, probably reinforced by the still unnamed member of the Roman and Pignon clans.

Enzo would never beat me. And he certainly wouldn´t be a threat to our child either. In a way, the brotherly love was a rusty dagger in Michel´s festering insides.

 

[Miras]

7-5-6
"Am I breathing the cleaner air of our arranged marriage?"

Speak of the devil...

"Despite what your father I said, I think we´ll have a nicer wedding night if you let me stay as sensitive as I am now, and you won´t add any more strokes." I didn´t even raise my head.

"Ms. Pignon, the only thing you will be sensitive to on our wedding night will be the exclusive bedclothes."

"Are you gay?"

"When you said she was the dove with the golden heart, I wondered if I could cut her chest to see for myself."

I looked to discover who he was talking to. I squeaked out happily because I glimpsed Ms. Clerence´s smile.

"Don´t move too much, Barbara." She opened something in her hands and placed it next to my plate.

"I´ve obtained her and the baby oil," Michael said.

I wolfed down the last of the camembert, and I must say that after applying the cooling layer to my bum, I felt pleasantly tanned again. But I needed more food. Mountains of food. And some information. "You said I had to go out. Where?"

Ms. Clerence stroked my cheek. "Most of the women had little to do after lunch. They will have to go back to skiing and slogging through the snow." Luckily, Stacey will be there. "I can think of a worse ending to Christmas."

Ms. Clerence laughed bitterly. "This won't be the end of you, Barbara. I wish you a safe journey."I was embarrassed that I had forgotten, and my cheeks suddenly had to be as red as an ass. "But you´re staying here..."

"Not just me. You can text your friend Zita if you want. She'll pass it on to Louisa, and she'll pass it on to me. You're a lucky girl, Barbara." She paused and spoke in another direction. "Make sure she is a lucky and happy girl."

"And as always, I'll have to find someone to make me a happy boy," Michael said.

Ms. Clerence stroked my temple with her right hand, and I felt the tenderness of each finger."Change your clothes! Get your skis and poles! Line up outside! If you freeze, it's your problem! I've laid out a long route for you today!"

Stacey could kiss our asses. Zita and I had to help each other change. Me because of the pain, and she barely noticed the world around her, although she noticed a little when Larissa came into the crowded dressing room.

"We are going to help you," I told Zita.

"She is going to help me," Zita said, anger emitting from her.

She irritated me, but I looked outside for her. I saw her shoving and shouting something at Larissa, who then moved to the edge of the group. I ended at the front, still indifferent to Stacey´s shouting."Your holidays are ending, so you must try harder to move your lazy bodies, which is the basis of survival. We don't have any new snow, so..."

"There she is! The brunette, second from the left!" A quartet of heavily clad guards, men, in fact, burst into our group, quickly making their way towards Larissa. Double L, ready on skis, started forward. Then she approached them again in a slight curve and spat. The inmates gasped as she quickly skied away. The heavily clad men suddenly shouted and fidgeted, but they still drew their weapons and fired. Larissa's calf buckled, but the brave spy changed direction and got into our country cottage. The skiers did not understand anything at all. Soon, they lost their formation."Lesson is interrupted. All back to the Tower!" Stacey yelled.

While we were on our way, Zita, suddenly calmer and the only calm one in the group, pulled me by the arm and dragged me to the snowy beds where we were used to daffodils. "You know, I snitched on her." Her voice cracked, but she looked proud of herself.

"You told Mayson who she is?"

“Arnolph, but yes. She whispered more and more quietly. "I told her I suspected a spy in our midst—and explained why it has to be her. I don't have to tell you why."

"But," I stammered. "You had no proof!"

"The proof is our browser, stuck in her room... It's free of fingerprints and genetic material and all browsing history, but after Larissa used her nanobots publicly, no one will doubt it. And I ask for some consideration in return."

"She was helping us! She could have helped you, too!"

Zita frowned. She started to say something, but it sounded learned. "She wouldn't help me, and she wasn't interested. I had to be their absolute sweetheart, Barbara. Please, it'll be a while before Stacey and Therese find out that the browser is gone. Don't tell them, but I wanted you to know. And I wanted you to understand me."

"Why do you want me to tell you it was right?" I quickened my pace to get inside the building. "You like to control people above all else."

"I wanted to be sure!" Zita said. "I wouldn't hurt you, Therese or Stacey. Or Jenine. We're friends."That stunned me. I heard honesty in her voice. "Then why didn't you trust me?"

Zita sighed. "I had my interests and you had yours. I didn't know what you were willing to do for me."

I shook my head. She is aloof, and that makes her suspicious.

Will Larissa report any of us when she finds out about the browser? Probably not. She can't jeopardize ongoing plans. I was still afraid of what she might say if they drugged her, and I was horrified at the thought of her dying during the interrogation.

What's more, even if it´s a naive question, did they arrest her? We didn't see anything. The skiers hadn't even changed their clothes yet. They huddled in the corridor, allowing me and Zita to signal privately.

I'm afraid that when Therese puts two and two together, she'll forget a few commandments.

Larissa used Therese, Zita objected. I'm not ashamed to cut her out of Therese's life. Jenine ran away. Maybe she can too.

I covered Zita´s fingers with my palm before she could say anything else. You have to apologize to her and not just that. You must try and replace her as a friend. Stacey won't cuddle her much.

If she forgives me, Zita added with an unreadable expression.

I explained to her the connection between me, herself, and Ms. Clerence that Singerton would link to. The conversation ended with friendly gestures without a cipher.

Stacey and warden Michelle shouted at us to change quickly, but we were slow anyway. I was thirsty for information, but we heard nothing about Larissa and her arrest or escape, and our media was mute. It couldn't just be that Arnolph was sitting at the bedside of a sick baby boy, Mayson.

 

[Miras]

7-5-Finale

Michelle canceled most of the activities and said that unless we had something useful to do, we should go to our rooms. I was about to go there, but Zita intercepted me and said I had to shoot the last remakes for Shieldmaidens. I understood it completely differently, but it was hard for me to blame her. It hurt me so much, and when I looked into her saddened eyes, I thought that I would make her pain and mine worse. In our show, I gave my place to Louisa, who played the chaotic imp, while my character decided to guard a giant space goat for the rest of her life.

And so I spent nearly five hours. The wardens around me became more tight-lipped, perhaps because they couldn't be rude.

"I want to eat already," I dared to ask them, alone in the virtual classroom.

"Dinner has been postponed due to the special regime," the warden said and gave me a package. "You're going to eat with your in-laws. Just say goodbye to your roommates. Your father wants to see them."

Something rattled on my package. It was the key to my chastity belt. And the package... It was my black shorts, yellow sweatshirt, and red underwear that I was wearing when they brought me here. None of it made sense. I liberated my sex again, and it was because of loveless marriage. I dressed as if I was the voracious virgin of my past while slowly coming to terms with the future of motherhood. My clothes fluttered, but Lola and Cassandra, and one of their colleagues escorted me to our door so as not to avoid attention.

Another warden stood there by my Dad´s side, her hand reaching for the door handle. My dad brushed his fingers along the doorframe.

"You can open."

All three girls had their eyes on me. They looked broken beyond repair. I took a breath and walked towards them. After words handshake and soft kiss followed. "Thank you for your kindness, Therese. May you live with someone who will return it all to you."

She kissed me first in this case.

"Stacey, I hope you will finish everything you started."

"I will," she replied.

"Zita, you can be a good friend, whether you realize it or not. Be nice to people and they will repay you."

She nodded thoughtfully.

I turned my back on them, and my Dad never acknowledged them, but I vowed I would return to their lives. I will save them, collect them, or join them in the misery they will fall into.

We marched through the corridors. Once, they set six women free. It couldn´t compare with today. Sirens wailed, and wardens opened every door on our way. Inmates in the underwear stood at attention. I looked at them respectfully but never at their faces.

They led us into the plainest room in the Tower, with a table and four chairs. Michael and Domingo were not sitting. I would say they were guarding something if I didn´t know better.

Michael held a sheet of paper in his hand. He rewarded my father with a deep bow and handed him the document. Dad thanked him and invited me to sit down. Next to the pen landed a page entitled: "Marriage Application for the Woman." At the top were lines of Michael´s name, smelling of the fresh ink. With the pen, I took all the days I have lived here, and all of those, I will live as Michael´s wife. I signed the text I couldn´t afford to read, knowing very well I rendered that surname "Pignon" almost meaningless and forsaken.

I gave Michael the sheet. Domingo came and hugged us all while his son was kissing me.We traveled upwards, and without warning, I was exposed to the winter air over the roof terrace. We were supposed to rush, I think, eager for comfort.

I was reluctant to take Michael´s hand. The bubble of air spoke not about freedom but of uncaring nature, a beautiful piece of land made ugly.

I saw that Romanos were leaving in a private jet, but there were also three military jets, blending with the blackness of the night.

Good. At least I remember that we are at war.

 

[Miras]

Chapter 7, part 6 (1)

Jenine

The army is marching, and it doesn´t matter that it must be content with one soldier.

I paced back and forth in my little chamber under the wooden planks, and today, it wasn't just because of my usual resentment fueled by inactivity. The cursing in a woman's voice, answered by the vulgarities of angry men, made me cry out for justice and reckoning. I chewed on the piece of cake Stacey had recently dropped for me, and pressed myself against the wall, just below the small light source.

Shoes were still pounding on the wood. It seemed to me that my personal roof could not take it, and after the screams, I began to doubt the stability of the upper floor.

More comprehensible words now clarified the situation for me.

"That bitch must still have a lot of nanobots! Throw an EMP grenade inside and keep another one in reserve!"

Nanobots.

Larissa Lewandowska had only visited me once, but she had mentioned them. If she's the chased one, they're about to snuff out the candle of my hope of talking to Cooper and actually escaping.

I could only do that if the worst came to the worst, but it looked like I had to prevent it from happening. Georgianna had left me one of those digging machines, but in the passive mode, I could use its limbs to split some planks from underneath. "Down, Larissa!"

She didn't jump to me. Instead, one of the guys burst in even faster. I leaped on the floor and grabbed his legs. A moment of surprise allowed me to bring him to his knees, and I rammed the little robot's limbs into his face. I must say that I was shocked when his nose flew to the other side of the room. I grabbed the arm of the startled Larissa. She was probably well dressed for winter sports while I was in underwear. Neither of us had much of getting anywhere on the surface. We had to get a tunnel made.

Unfortunately, at that moment, an EMP grenade hit the inside of the cottage, and it rumbled. My bot did, too, and its service seems to have ended.

"Up!" called Larissa. Since I didn't prove myself as a leader, I let her drag me up the stairs, and our noses filled themselves with the smells of otherwise delightful fragrances. Larissa pulled me to the window. "We have to jump on the roof!" she declared, sounding resolute, and pushed her back into the cold. I did as she said, and then, just as I pressed my waist against the window sill, someone grabbed my foot.

"Who are you anyway?! Her grandmother?" Larissa could use her legs, and so could Jenine Thompson. I leaned against his belly, and when Larissa's maneuvers freaked him out, I kicked him so he could return the breakfast from the day before yesterday to the world through that window. Thank God he didn't do it, and I got out into the cold air.

“Thompson, grab the edge.”

I don't know how, but I managed to let go of Polish feet and not fall. Larissa stood convulsing on the roof and offered me her hands. I took them gratefully and followed her up.

Larissa shook her head and looked up at the gray-white sky.

"I still have some working nanobots. Take this." She reached into her mouth and handed me a small capsule.

"What is this? My own nanobots?"

Larissa cleared her throat. "No. Death. We must not reveal our secrets."

I shivered with cold but more with anger. "Is that why you came to me?"

Larissa nodded. "Your roommate turned me in. Who knows what else she told them? Quick!"

Damn that Kelly.

"As long as I live, I can participate in the rebirth of the freedom. If I am dead, I will never know what happened!"

"For now, you are a threat to freedom! You might tell them what the traitor didn´t. There is no hope of escape!"

I fight for the life. I live to fight.

“Okay, give it to me."

Larissa handed me a capsule. I put it between my teeth and spat it demonstratively into the snow around the cottage.

“You selfish monster!”

Something rustled below us, and I felt a sting on my ankle. Larissa jerked, too. It couldn't be compared to the next moment when we both got a few watts from the tasers and collapsed limply.

 

[Miras]

7-6-2
We became numb, and I was afraid that it would soon pass. We also lost after the right to the top and bottom part of the clothing and woke up in the middle of torture instruments.

The torture was sometimes a matter of interrogation, but the guys managed to make time for pure fun during it. They tied me to a rack in the dungeon, but apparently, they didn't want to stretch me yet, that is, not by my hands and feet. After I had recovered, however, I felt vacuum pumps and ropes. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but that didn't change the fact that they turned my breasts into hideous purple balloons.

So far, I've fared better than Larissa, who they turned into a fucking bag. A small chain went through her nose and mouth, by which they suspended her in the room, and she did not fall, even when they used their ‘clubs‘ on her from both sides. The room was lit only by a faint flickering fire, but I could see rape seed running between her buttocks and on the inside of her thighs. Her head was down, and she said nothing. I realized that they had probably already taken the option of suicide away from her.

They did not let us question our consciences for long. Then, a man came to us with a long birch and swung it against the wall. “The Principal is coming to see you, so don't be lethargic girls.”

We didn't answer him. With all the more enthusiasm, he stretched out my purple breast and stroked me. I took five strokes without screaming. He just took the other breast, and after two strokes, he went back to the original one. At first, I was crying loudly, but gradually, I had to let out a long scream after each touch of the birch. The man just smiled and began to draw welts on Larissa. Whenever she lunged at him, he would flinch and punish the disobedient part of her body.

"Take Lewandowska to the next dungeon," a female voice commanded from the corridor. It sounded like the spokeswoman whose tits deserved what mine were going through – only she almost didn't have any. The man immediately untied Larissa and slung her over his shoulder, touching her in various ways along the way, even inserting a finger into her holes and sucking on it.

I expected Mayson to come, but it wasn't him or the spokeswoman stepping down the stairs. It was Zita.

"Jenine!" she called worriedly. She hopped down, paused for a moment by the fire, and looked at me, out of breath. "Do you know what happened?"

Zita, dammit, tell me what I can say. I had nothing but the words of disappointment at my disposal. "Kelly… Betrayed her. Maybe both of us. She wanted me to kill myself."

I must have been hallucinating. Momentarily, it seemed to me as if Zita sighed in relief. "Yes, Therese couldn't take it anymore. She told them about Larissa and that she knows about you. Mayson and Arnolph know we helped you, but they don't want to give you to Green. They want to know if you have anything to offer."

"Mayson and who?"

"Arnolph – the spokeswoman. It looks like Green tried to get rid of Mayson, poisoned him. Now they're arguing about his plans and whether they could turn them against him."

The conspirator turns on the conspirator.

"I could testify about Green. But nobody would believe me, and it would be easy to get rid of me. I don't see why Mayson or some Arnolph should win among the Brave Hunters instead of Prefect."

"That's acting principal for you!"

Arnolph in a white dress, joined us with a look of offense and discomfort on her face. “Madam Senator, why don't you differentiate between us?”

I sniffed. "You know, my mother taught me everything in life. She was a classical anarchist with a tendency to postmodernism, and she said I needed to name the problems properly. Our problem wasn't really capitalism but the plutocracy, and our problem wasn't really patriarchy but androcentrism. And now, our problem isn´t some individuals but rats turning on each other, pretending they are the government. Your Conclave is the rat king. I won't listen to your synthetic gibberish, your imitation of language.”

Arnolph took a step back and then two forward. She rested her hand on the pulley of the rack.

"Could you blame us for watching the world fall apart and wanting to live a life that had structure and meaning again?"

"Or was it that you felt like a shit and wanted all the power?"

Arnolph breathed heavily. "Mrs. Thompson, you said it yourself. We are turning on each other. Ergo, we are not all the same. When the construction collapses, each beam is its own thing. And the woman in love stands before you, trembling in the storm! There will be an election of new Princeps, and you can help better candidates than Green is!"

"Fellow acting principal," Zita said. "The senator can´t control her emotions. You´re doing a great job of appealing to her rational side, but I can help you if you´ll leave us alone for five minutes."

Arnolph ignored her. "We may soon send the message about the accidental death of Larissa Lewandowska. It is up to you whether it will be true or false, as in the case of Jenine Thompson."

I said what I had to say. "She was ready to die, and calling yourself a woman in love won´t change who you are any more than calling dictatorship equestrianism."

"I´ll be back shortly," Arnolph said, strolling out of the dungeon.

"Excellent," Zita exclaimed. "Jenine, you have told her your opinion. How about telling her what do you want? You can have it and steal Green´s elections."

"I´ve got nothing! I can tell her about Green and Stubley and what else?"

"Before Therese betrayed you, she told us about the wider extent of Green´s plan. Mayson and Arnolph know he just imported the Councilman´s daughter into his prison here. Larissa discovered he wanted her father to know where she was and contacted him herself. Larissa warned him. We can continue from there."

It started to sound like a deal. It even overcame the pain of a possible splinter in my breast.

"I will not ask for easy things."

 

[Miras]

7-6-3
"Your information is golden. If we can sell you something, you can buy it."

Arnolph´s smile was much too long.

"I want to talk to my husband."

"Well, name something easier. Let's say he isn´t available on the channels we can tune into, not even as a joke."

I still couldn´t unwind on this rack.

"And I thought my second call would be reaching. I wanted to talk to former deputy Timothy Cooper. He should be living in Greece."

Arnolph nodded thoughtfully. "This is, in fact, easier. Daniel got very detailed information about the activities of the immigrants. Plus, we salvaged some of that spy Lewandowska's files. As I recall, she wanted to talk to this very man, no doubt on your instructions. We'll compare it." She pulled out a tablet computer out of her dress. "Yes, she did. She confirmed that Cooper had been visiting an adult site on the virtual internet."

"Of course," I remarked. "When pigs lead the herd, they rape, and when they cry, they seek to watch 3D images. What's his kink?"

"The site is called Cute Faces and Junk. The moderators collect public domain photos from all over the internet. However, the system carefully checks that you are not lying about your gender, and if you want to have a conversation with someone, you have to fuck him or her."

Cooper had some secrets. “I'll make sure he doesn't enjoy it."

“Supposedly, he's there every night. You can try it right away.”

I confirmed that I would like to.

Arnolph and Zita disappeared, and the longer I was here alone, the harder it was for me to accept what I wanted to try. But it's better to be a whore than a coward.

They soon returned. Zita folded the VR suit on the floor, and the acting principal untied me from the rope.

"Move around a bit and stretch your muscles before you put it on."

It was true that it took an immeasurable amount of time before I could stand on my feet and stop rubbing my sore breasts. Zita and Arnolph used this to push away the instruments of torture with similar physical difficulty, giving me more freedom of movement in the virtual space. When it was over, I slowly put on the bag of sealskin, and Arnolph sent an instruction with the address to the remote computer.

I was standing on a small island in the middle of a sea of steam, with two more pieces of land on either side. Photos were raining from the small clouds there were raining on them. Signs on them read 'Men' and 'Women'. I jumped to the female island. The rain stopped, and I had to choose again, this time between 'Reality' and 'Fiction'. Instinctively, I chose the fact. Then I stood in the boat, and more categories appeared before me. 'Actresses', 'Other Celebrities', 'Bygone Era Famous Ladies', 'The Hottest Pinups', 'Tribal Girls', and even 'Humiliated Women in FPA'. It was quite a recession on my part, but that's what I had to choose. Shortly afterward, my heart stopped because I found myself on the large island where the photographs were lying. Mostly pictures of pillories but also distressed women in the streets, defendants crying in the courtrooms, and half-naked people at work. I saw a few familiar faces. The most familiar one belonged to me. It was my second day in the Princess Tower, wearing a strap harness and with graffiti on my still preserved breasts. I had to pick up the photo, and my hand stiffened. I couldn't put it down.

The system needed nothing more. The photo quickly disappeared, and I assumed the form of my more than three-month-old self.

The simulation projected a marble palace, whose walls were decorated with golden faces and wings of laughing cupids. Faces would open the door to couples of strange figures regularly. I saw cartoony animals, celebrities, and characters in historical clothes, many of whom looked like Romance readers plucked them from the covers of their favorite novels – marquises and marchionettes, dukes, and their mistresses. Many of the characters could boast of large, visible genitalia – protruding penises and vulvas stretching around. The biggest junk had some Hindu god standing above the hall. His cock blocked the view of the stars.

I realized that this is a European website. For the first time in a long months, I was close to freedom. Only sex could bring me even closer – sex with Cooper. I thought I was a little stupid when I tried to find him among the random avatars. But I could rule out some groups. He was male, so I excluded about 40% of the characters from my search. And even though I had no idea he was going to pornsites, I knew he was the serious type. He wouldn't turn into an animal before making love. He won't be one of those beasts who invite me to a night together by caressing and slapping me from behind. So, I ruled out more than I would have liked. I wouldn´t even bet on that hairy highwayman. Cooper would prefer to please a woman with something classic.

One man responded to me.

He looked like the racing driver Anri Grossi. He avoided looking at me, changing direction whenever I came too close. The tall and muscular figure moved in a way that would have matched Cooper. I hid behind some avatars and got within a meter of him. But how were we supposed to communicate if we couldn't talk? If I pointed to the letters written on my chest, he might not understand.

I looked around at the other guests, and one of them reminded me of Cooper's hobby. The squirrel was walking, armed not only with a massive member but also with a slightly smaller pine cone in his paws. I stopped him to play with his main pride, so knocking the pine cone was just usual fun. I turned and threw it to Grossi.

The man in the shape of the racer looked at the object until it vaporized in his hands. He came to me and gave me the look that fangirls must have gotten in their dreams, forcing them to touch their crotches when they woke up. And now Grossi was indirectly dedicating it to me. He offered me his hand and led me to Cupid. He opened the door and loosened my fingers, looking at me, challenge in his gaze.

 

[Miras]

7-6- Finale

I stepped into a room dominated by a pink bed. I lay on it and watched what my mate would do. I have to say that even with a stranger, I had to remember my excitement shortly after marrying Joseph. At the same time, it gave me the satisfaction of becoming an unfaithful wife, a complete denier of the men-made order.

It helped me to partially put my conscience to sleep and eyed the line of the ass squeezed into the black pants against which the silver squares of the man's jacket flashed. My hands seductively loosened the strap harness, which vanished prematurely thanks to the program. He smiled and unbuttoned his jacket, under which another layer of clothing did not show. My gaze slid from his broad shoulders to his worked-out chest with cute little nipples in the middle, reminders of his fetus' feminine past.

More attractive to me were his masculine attributes. I kissed him on his firm stomach and trailed my tongue higher as my hands unzipped his pants. His cock was not unnaturally enlarged. Its size and the way it was getting ready to fly were enough for me. I touched it and helped it a little. I was pleased with the result. I tended to suck him off for a while, but VR wouldn't convey this feeling. I lay on my back and offered him my lap, which, unlike in reality, was shaved. Racer, whom I suspected was a former politician, lay on top of me, completely naked, and caressed my breasts.

He leaned his hard cock against my thigh, which sparked a new sense of anticipation in me, but he was in no hurry. He connected his lips to mine repeatedly, using his fingers to make sure I liked it, which was exciting in itself. I was still a little shy, but I didn't want to stop. I closed my eyes and remembered the most beautiful experiences with Joseph, especially our honeymoon in Brazil, where I stayed up all night thanks to him. I did not mind. I slept in the morning, and when I woke up, breakfast was waiting for me, and I was still such a gentle young lady then that I showed my infinite gratitude to Joseph.

I felt first the vibrations and then the genuine power. Below I was being conquered, and above, I was caressed by movements that mixed the past without bitterness and the present without end.

I came before he did, but then I was in a state where I voluntarily surrendered my resting body to his lust.

"Can you hear me, can we talk?"

His voice remained authentic.

"Yes, we can, Timothy. I hope we can understand each other, too. Let me thank you. Not for what you did for me a moment ago. Thank you for having the honor to run away. Thank you for delivering the message, and of course, most of all, thank you for helping my friends escape to safety. As you know, I was busted before I even met my husband, but one can say that it was clumsiness, among other things, that brought me to the Princess Tower. "

He sat on the bed and looked at me with a look as if he were searching for a lost child deep in a well.



"You've just taken the first step towards making me believe you're the real Jenine Thompson," Cooper said. “Someone who knew her and wanted to emulate her certainly wouldn't sound so kind-hearted.”

I touched his chin. "And you're sure the real Jenine Thompson would sleep with you right away?"

"Well, she was a libertarian."

I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart.

"Of course, it would require her to escape and get to virtual reality with a connection to the European internet in the meantime."

“Timothy,” I whispered against his chest. "As we both suspected, our new regime is fragile. I considered an alliance between the dissidents, emigrants, and Rear Riders. It is because of the constant changes that I was able to find you."

Cooper laughed for a minute. "You chose to be friends with me wisely, but since then, you've had bad luck for allies. The Rear Riders are a terror to emigration. They want to expand as fast as possible and one day establish a hegemony that won't allow competition. In fact, I don't think they'll allow other states larger than the Vatican or Lesotho at best. You might imagine that they would push for more rights for women, but I think they are more likely to suggest other means of reducing them."

"Timothy, I will never give in to evil. They asked to do just that recently, and I refused. It paid off. They're about to elect a new Princeps soon. I'm… I'm glad you're safe, but I can't imagine you being inactive. Surely, you certainly are in touch with the other emigrants, and perhaps it would be interesting if you issued a joint statement on who should be Gilbert's successor."

“I already know the name of Gilbert's successor!”Cooper shouted. “Alexander Cao. He is constantly touring Europe, and everyone knows he is marking out his future prefectures and vassals.”

My former life began to awaken in me.

"So, he's in Europe, the coward. Maybe this will inspire you to use your influence in America. How do you remember Councilman Olsson?"

“Looking back, they all seem like the same scumbags to me.”

I sighed. Cooper was using logic similar to mine, but not in the correct way. "Smaller scumbags have to defeat the bigger ones so that the decent people will prevail in the end."

Cooper pulled away from me. Gently, but the closer he got to the door, the faster he walked. After opening it, the clothes reappeared on him. "Sometimes, in my drunken moments, I think about taking part in our politics again, but nothing short of you leading half the nation like Abraham Lincoln would convince me that it is not pointless. Today, we are closer to Jefferson Davies in the last days of the Rebel South."

I tried to give him a look that would surpass Lincoln himself.

Cooper looked at me. Confused. "Goodbye, Thompson-that-may-be."

He left for the main hall.

The first experience with him tonight was better than I had hoped. The second one was wishful thinking gone wrong. I went outside and found the gate that represented logging out.

Arnolph didn´t look curious.

"We´ve beeen monitoring you," she said. "I thought none of us could be your allies?"

"Guys are stupid, just like I always thought." I gazed at her. "You are my ally. As long as you are my shield from the world and Green is our enemy."

Arnolph kept the same expression.

Zita smiled, touching the acting principal with her right hand and me with her left.

"And I´ll be Jenine´s shield against those she will piss off!"

Arnolph eyed her, sarcasm lurking in her eyes.

 

[Miras]

Chapter 8, Part 1 (1/2)

Roberta

And then there were three.

I was rolling over in the middle of the night, and after looking around, my eyes fixed on the curved lines of Sylvia's hips and bottom. She had thrown off the blanket in her sleep. She was still wearing panties. My groping hand took advantage of the free access under the fabric. My wife hadn't been very naughty lately, so her ass was intact, and if I turned on the light, I would see her in all her alabaster glory. So far, I had been content to stroke one of those buttocks.

I must have entered her dreams with this contact because she wiggled and pressed her head against my chest. She opened her little mouth cutely, and her breath on my breasts managed to excite me. I slowly embraced her. Her lips touched my left nipple. I began to wish that she would bite me there. I tilted my head towards her. Although I didn't quite achieve the desired result, she practically kissed my areola.

I swung her hanging arm over me and squeezed her loose nipple between my fingers. I tried to match the rhythm of my index and middle fingers to the waves of excitement that my heated breasts were experiencing.

Sylvia woke up with a delighted sigh. She pulled away, but my hand held her in place.

"Roberta, are you up early again?" There was concern in her voice but also a playful horniness.

“Yes, dear, I don't sleep much.“ This place and the pain went into my head. All the more, I had to protect the most important thing.

"Roberta, you know how many times I have recommended those pills to you."

I put my hand over her mouth.

"You don't have to think, Sylvia. Just love."

She smiled sadly. "I will." She planted a brief kiss between my breasts. She turned to me, but I stopped her for the second time and began pulling her panties down. I gestured for her to lean her right hip against the wall, and when her panties stopped almost at her ankles, I lifted her leg and then reveled in the sight of what was between her thighs. The tip of my tongue revealed the first drops in her pussy, which soon became a wild stream thanks to the stroking. It flowed like a river in a canyon, dividing an overgrown landscape. I soon opened my mouth wide and pushed my entire tongue deep into my wife's vagina. She twitched with pleasure, but soon, I also felt Sylvia rolling over and her fingers digging into my hair. I had to take my tongue out, but I could still taste the passion on it.

Sylvia turned me onto my back and covered me with her figure. I saw her fantastic ass descend on my head. My tongue first licked her clit a few times before going back deep again. In my lap, I felt the sucking of all the outer parts first, followed by the slow – excruciatingly slow – insertion of the fingers. The sensation intensified as she moved them back and forth. My pussy spasmed a little and pulled back around the things that she pushed into her, but the pleasure was undeniable. I tried to hold back the panic with the taste on my tongue and the pride in how I had irritated Sylvia. She knew how to repay me, and as she sang happily to the ceiling, her fingers moved so fast that I was afraid they would scratch my inner skin and the orgasm would ignite my veins.

The storm of emotions that Sylvia and I shared confirmed that mornings could return to the calm stereotype. We got our Christmas presents, all the women who were jealous of Pignon's release shed their tears dry, and we could throw the missing Lewandowska together with the bloodthirsty Pepper or Susan from Lewandowska´s room. She has fallen into the dark lake of thin ice, which, unfortunately, I also went on.

I hope to see Sylvia's face when I open my eyes in the brighter room. Or any other part of her body. I never wanted to see anything else in my life.

Roll call gone awry. Basma came to make it uncomfortable for me. She never wanted to see or hear us having sex again, so she is sleeping in the bathroom, between the toilet and the shower.

"Bad hair day again, girl?" Sylvia showed great interest in our young Arab´s appearance and, sadly, left my bed.

"Sit in the chair. I'll fix it for you."

There are three of us left, so we take care of Basma more thoroughly. She listens to me and Sylvia because she knows we can ask someone to wallop her ass. She had already undergone it of her own free will, but we pointed out some inmates whose hand, or the instrument in it, she would have felt on her ass even in the retirement home.

With a curt thank you combed Basma pulled away from Sylvia and went to stretch her muscles before going to the gym.

Michelle, the warden, burst into our room without knocking. "The principal has assigned you special duties. Brunkow… Roberta, see Mayson and Arnolph. Sylvia, report to the teachers’ lounge immediately.”

I wanted to slap that freckled face, but I had to nod at her from the bed. At least I hid my gratitude our superiors were asking me for something.

As soon as I opened the door to the principal's office, I saw Arnolph sitting behind the desk, looking at the screen in her lap.

"HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!!!"

I hate morons who laugh too much, so I reluctantly sat across from her.

"I was watching the funniest comedy I've ever seen. It's called 'He Married My Sister, Too!'. A new sitcom for women."

"The day after tomorrow, you will enter the New Year cheerfully." Did she have reason to be optimistic?

"Brunkow, you must allow yourself to enjoy life. We need it to have energy when the real tests come, and by that, I don't mean your biology questions. We have a little 'inspection' waiting for us in mid-January. They will make decisions about the purpose of our institute but also about the Prefect's long-term intentions."

"In that case, I hope Mayson has recovered and will be wary of another attempt on his life."

Arnolph finally looked like she had forgotten about the stupid show.

“Daniel needs to sleep now, but trust me, he'll be fine before long. There will come three men who have always irritated him, especially one of them, but this time, he will use these people against Green.”

“I suppose that's why I'm here.”

Arnolph blinked. "I admit you are a useful contact, Brunkow. They say you made a good impression on your Paladin, and he may ask for you and Sylvia. Since hes connections to the Conclave, I have decided not to forget you. Besides, there is one more thing, and I must warn you that 'no' is not the answer in this case. We have continued in contact of one person with Councilman Olsson, and that person is unlikely to cooperate with us anytime soon. I need you to play the role of the woman who relayed certain findings to him. You are intelligent enough for that."

"You don't have to threaten me or my wife," I said. "I'll do it. Security, that's what I like."

"Okay," Arnolph replied. "You don't have to get angry beforehand. This work is important to us. Thanks to your consent, you can be and watch TV with me. We have spared you the inconvenience of your female colleagues."

"Sylvia, too?! Let me go after her. I have to participate!"

 

[Miras]

A little note: I know I´m biased creator and the execution is everything but I suppose I´d watch hell out of ´He married my sister, to!´.

 

[Miras]

8-1- finale

On the way, Arnolph explained to me what it was all about.

"The Councilman of Education has decided that his nineteen-year-old nephew and his two classmates deserve an interesting end to the holidays, and at the same time, he is launching several smaller programs around the country to keep women working in education humble." Arnolph paused for a moment. "To turn the tables on them. To punish them as if the boys were the teachers. And the females were the students."

I could thank my sense of responsibility for having to suffer, but as always, I was too anxious to exchange it for ignorance.

All the female co-lectors and lectors were already in the lounge, each standing next to a vaulting buck with four short chains. At the very back were Ekstöm and Hamilton. In front of them stood Sylvia, Cecilia with Armitpree, then Cabrera and Ruby, both with resigned expressions. Homemakers were shivering. Lindsey and Rosenstein were cluelessly staring. McLeaf was narrowing her eyes.

"I prayed you wouldn't show up," my wife said. I have my group of sarcastic responses to these remarks, but before my swift tongue could respond, the door behind us opened again.

"Two more cunts? Would they want extra for being late?" asked the tall boy with the glasses and golden comb-over.

"That´s me," Arnolph snapped.

"And the second?" asked the young man, whose only interesting feature was a goatee.

"Mrs. Brunkow did what I asked of her."

"So, I see that you carry out your work conscientiously," commented the young man. He looked like an old-fashioned teacher with short black hair, wearing a tight jacket with every button buttoned up. "But we already have ten vaulting bucks here. Where do we put our beloved now?"

"She can go on that table over there," Comb-over pointed to a pushed piece of furniture. "Or, to the window."

"Better, across the table," the goatee suggested, blissful sadism rising in his voice. "That way, she will enjoy a view of her colleagues."¨

His friends enthusiastically agreed with him. They even pulled duct tape off the said table to use as my handcuffs.

The one with a teacher's visage clapped his hands a few times. "So all you ladies, unless your name is Sophia Arnolph, take off your skirts and trousers and put them in a pile in the corner. Otherwise, don't bare your asses, leave it to us."

We gradually exposed our lower parts and waited to see what would happen next. The trio of men jumped on each of us and behaved as if we were the most dangerous criminals. They grabbed each teacher, brutally twisted her hand, stretched out her arms and legs (obviously during constant groping), and chained her to the vaulting bucks. That gave the women problems. They made faces, but that was one of the purposes. At the end of the buck were their bottoms exposed in panties or, as in the case of Rosenstein, in stockings. I moved for a moment to get a better look at this spectacle of helplessness, but the boys had already reached me and dragged me for too long – these poachers, grateful for their prey. They did not touch me except for a long squeeze of the breast. They soon tired of me, and I ended up pinned to the table, legs, and ass spread.

Young men started to play with much older women. “Make those two PE teachers kiss. They must be the lesbians!" I saw how they turned Hamilton and Ekström toward each other, and then they couldn't stand what they were seeing anymore and had to go for the tools they had prepared in the other corner of the lounge. Classical paddle, long rather than broad. Then small, easy-to-grip martinet and the table tennis paddle. They handled the heaviest tool carefully, and the weaker ones they used liberally. Since Hamilton and Ekström didn´t give them anything above weaker whimpering even after massive paddling and pulling down their panties, boys moved on to more sensitive victims. Sylvia had been trained by me and by the lessons here, but she still cried like a child when the martinet spanked her first on her panties and then on her bare skin. Cabrera was bawling quite a bit, but I supposed that was playing it up to some extent. She had a practice. Ruby even begged for mercy with a few light strokes, which encouraged the boys, and they smashed her shaking bare ass about fifteen times with the heavy paddle.

"Looks like she's exhausted," shouted the one who was beating her. "But so am I. That is, except in my dick. He would quite like to play."

"I'm sure she won't mind!"

I saw him examine Ruby with disappointment. "That bitch has a chastity belt!"

"I'll get the key!" Arnolph exclaimed.

"No need. This one doesn't have one." The boy who said that exposed Sylvia. For God's sake, don't! Leave her alone. I've been there. Thrash her all you want-

"We'll show her how you pay for mistakes like that," the comb-over sadist declared, ripping apart my wife´s panties. I watched as he cupped her buttocks and pushed himself in. It looked like he was going to stab her heart from the bottom of her ass. I could close my eyes but I couldn't cover my ears to spare myself from the drawn-out shriek that brought down waterfalls of tears. I squinted against the desk as, according to the talk, all three took their turn.

Then they spanked the lectors again. Some they would humiliate only by the table tennis paddle, but Rosenstein, on the contrary, they did not spare at all.

They were through with everyone except me. They lined up at the front, from the weakest instrument to the strongest, with the heavy paddle waiting behind.

"You'll get thirty-three each. That will bring you the best luck in the New Year, ma'am."

My muscles twitched. I think the different pain will somewhat drown out the thrashing.

 

[Miras]

Chapter 8, Part 2 (1)

Agatha

Look, people, I don't know who exactly I'm talking to, probably to all horny guys in the world. I was always open to the girlfriend experience. I had a long chat with the client about his interests, made loving eyes at him, and allowed him to become a dating couple with him. Simply, it was a stretched foreplay.

However, I do not do the housewife experience. If they wanted someone to spread her legs while plastering their socks or to roll their buttocks while cooking, you gentlemen would have to wait for Natasha, who has her anus full of Mr. Ramon at the moment. Shy geek, go around that corner. You'll find Mercedes there. She steals contracts from me, but I'm happy to let her have this one.

I had to say goodbye to that here. I have an exceptional position in our re-educational institution, but I also have to return to my former temporary role in the household. Picking out recipes and cooking dinner for the Heirs had long been the order of the day, but now the end of the semester was approaching, and we had something in the way of grander exams ahead of us. I wasn't the only one not thrilled by the idea of having to quickly clean and dust a total of sixteen rooms on four floors, but we were all equal for these tests, and the swish of the cane, or the moaning of a classmate, while a bloody red welt begins to form on her ass, will make you squirm. You have to do it quickly! Meh. That's what I used to tell guys. Then, cooks would call us individually. It only lasted for a short time. Either someone else was invited, or we heard cursing and crying. When they invited me in, the cook asked me, all smiling, "Do you know how to make cheese?" I described the process I had learned to her, and they told me that it would be part of today's and tomorrow's program. For now, they sent me out to the crowd of milkmaids taking turns.

So I sniffed the cow's butt, got rubbed by the cow's tail, and worried about the cow's twitching leg. And people are surprised that I liked being able to pay my bills from fucking.

"Do you deserve anything less, Zita? Pick up the pole and the bottles, or you'll wake up tomorrow, and you will see your eye without mirror for the first time because I'll be holding it in my hand!"

We didn't care how we vented our anger out on each other. We were tired by the evening, and the next day, we found new threats and praise, but this was the Foolish Zero Kelley speaking angrily. I had already planned for her to feel my frustrations from the daytime of me playing the maid, but she sounded more threatening than most frustrated guys who like to hurt girls. I looked away from the plump, bountiful udder and found her in the crowd. She was standing next to Hamilton, and they were both watching intently their other roommate, who writes the show -The Fantasy Girl. She paled and slowly backed away. She took a carrying field with two oval bottles of milk. She didn't even have them capped. She couldn't run with them, but she was clearly about to shout when one of the nearby outlines covered her, and she screamed in pain. Even I didn't register what exactly happened. Only a slush of milk and mud was clear to me.

"Someone did a fine job," said Hamilton, her nostrils flared, and the contemptuous words thundered.

The women helped Fantasy Girl to her feet, but the nearest warden pulled her away from them. She led her to a fence that today proved to be more than an imitation of a rural landscape. First, they made her take off her clothes, from her blouse to her panties. Drops of sweat glistened everywhere on that defenseless skin. We could take Fantasy Girl's sheen as a sign of restlessness. The warden tied both of her hands to the fence so that she had to rest her back against it as if crucified. Warden pulled out a giant leather strap from behind her waist, longer than anything her victim would have encountered at school. First, the warden struck the calf. Fantasy Girl began to scream at the sun, strengthening the religious association. Warden aimed another stroke at the thighs.

"AAAAHHHHH! NOOOO, THAT WASN´T MEEEEE!"

"Two more strokes for lying!"

She aimed the third stroke at the inner thighs and got an even louder roar from her. This time, the girl only accompanied it with pleas, not with blaming someone else.

Shwack! Left breast. "WOOOOOO!" It sounded like she was trying to grit her teeth but bit her tongue instead. Shwack! Shwack! Right breast.

Then, she had her turn on her stomach and began to repeat the whole procedure. The stroke to the calf left a long, unbroken trail of red on the Fantasy girl, and she started to kick hysterically in front of her. Warden then struck between her thighs until she at least partially gave up. The two blows on the bottom were more symbolic, perhaps it was the addition, but there was another image on her ass in the resemblance of a cross, so of our Lord and Savior.

Then, the warden methodically punished the Fantasy girl on her back. The poor girl pushed forward and moaned. I thought that it must have put a lot of pressure on her tits.

When they finished with her, they left her lying on the ground for a while so that we could examine her as a warning before she could go to the infirmary.

 

[Miras]

8-2-2
They transferred the Shifty-Eyed Zero Therese to my room, but I, a stupid, unteachable woman, forgot that I would no longer enjoy her. When she moans, it's not because of me, and most of the time, her eye dolls float on the white fields, like two fish that you don't even know if they are alive or dead. She sighed softly in my room. I was overwhelmed with interest without comparison and had to ask her what had happened to her.

"I know ,exactly, what's happening to me," she replied slowly. "I'm constantly going through new tests, and I thought I'd adapted to them, but they still rob me of the people I love, so there must be a higher purpose."

Therese nodded her head, which was shaking at the same time.

"Stacey came up with the punishment, but I agreed to it all the same. We feel terrible right now. My friend Larissa is gone, and Arthur – my Heir – may want to run away too."

"Why would he run away?"

Therese fell silent, and I think I saw the blood on her pursed lips.

I untied her from the chains and sat her on my lap. If I wanted to know some secrets, the best place to mine the minerals of trust is from the crotch.

"Even if your Arthur left, I experienced a completely different you at Deborah´s place," I objected and tried a sweet voice. "Modern girls don't need a man when they understand the power of the clitoris."

With a graceful movement, I managed to stretch my and her legs. I moved my long finger around her slit until I was sure Therese would like to accept something inside, even from me. Then, I was right on the greatest giver of female pleasure. Therese's face turned red, but she exhaled as if I had cured of something. As she rolled, I adjusted her a little. I lifted her ass and got a better view right between her labia. I didn't have time to take the dildo, but I took the flogger from the table and used the handle. I pushed it in rhythmically, slowly at first, but it kept getting deeper, so I ventured in. I advanced, massaging her from side to side, for which she rewarded me with a sweet moan, and then I pulled back a little. Therese reacted and threw the flogger away, so I slapped her gently on the ass. She didn't seem to mind too much. I bent down to her and probed her hardening nipples with my teeth. Therese welcomed it enthusiastically, tucking my head between her sweet breasts. She grabbed my head with each hand and wriggled on my lap. Her movements suggested that the the flogger was idle, so I alternated its ends.

Perhaps there was a bit of irony in this, but I carried Therese to bed after her orgasm so she could rest. Her cunt was already closed during my last licking, but Therese didn't think for a moment to resist.

I stroked her hair. "Why do you think Arthur should leave?"

Therese swallowed. "Zita helped to catch Larissa. I don't know what she knew, but I think Larissa blackmailed Arthur, and now he's scared."

Therese hesitated. She wasn't telling me everything, but I had to ask the right questions to get her off guard.

“So you hate Zita now.”

"It´s not that I can´t forgive her. It's that I can´t look at her. What she did was wrong, and those who do wrong should get their comeuppance. I have tried to be grateful for what I have, but soon, I will have nothing but you, my friendly enemy."

Maybe I will be more to you, and then you will share.

"I'll make sure you don't have to live together. I can't let you study under stress."