Miras
Governor
8-5-2
I was surrounded by people. On one side Arnolph with a camera and her assistants on the other, a group of four or five classmates, their leader cuddling with something in her arms. I clung to her.
"Do you have something for me?" I asked, prepared that I wouldn't get anything today.
“A smaller gesture,” Erin said. She spread a piece of clothing in front of me. I would have expected a simple sweater, but Erin’s gift shocked me. She handed me a green waistcoat, a long cape trailing from its shoulders, giving any petite girl a regal appearance. I saw an embroidered picture on one of the flaps. I smiled and cooed at Erin before taking a closer look. I saw a fantasy warrior with a not-very-well-done face. She was wearing just such a cloak and had a sword drawn in front of her. But she was pointing the blade at her heart, and on the hilt hung a parchment with a text.
“We signatories have only begun our fight, and we will continue it even if it costs us our lives,” Erin said aloud. "It's not just about the text of the petition; it's also about the fact that thanks to the strength of our spirit, I am showing what has been hidden inside us for a long time." She ran her tongue over her lips. "Do you know why we're handing this to you? We call ourselves the Raiding Shieldmaidens!" She shoved the clothes into my hands. I needed to be sure of Arnolph's support, but she shook her head from a meter away. She waited politely for the girls to move away and said quietly: "No, you won't take it on yourself."
"I'm glad that someone associates the show with me," I defended their interest meekly.
"You are not an actress. You are our model inmate. That is why we enabled you this celebration. You can´t live off our favor and deliberately fall out of it."
"I could let someone impregnate me just like Barbara," I teased Arnolph.
"Your imagination is not helping you, girl," the spokeswoman said. "That only works once. And another Princess Tower even experienced the birth of a baby. Granted, that was because the gal was pregnant when they arrested her, but a single handkerchief was not enough to dry me."
I put my gift on the table. I'll wear it one day.
Montserrat didn't want to get off the pole, and with her typical perseverance, she kept changing songs. One of the other contributions she chose for our amusement was Popular from the Wicked, which she complemented with seductive moves. Sharona smiled and jumped to her girlfriend. She bared herself so we could all see the bra cups covering her nipples and decided to outdo Montserrat in a passionate smile category. Wrapping her arms around her lover's hips, she lifted the loose skirt and began to massage Montserrat's cotton panties on the crotch.
Montserrat’s singing lapsed, she couldn't control her passions, so she began to take longer, and longer pauses between words and danced instead. She grabbed Sharona's hands and spun her around the pole. She may never have worn her chastity belt, but this was her responsibility. The Tower's official policy was that if we didn't wear it and someone raped us, it was our fault.
She moved to Sharona's head and planted a long kiss on her forehead as she pinched the small nipples on the naughty redhead's body between her fingers. Sharona gasped. Many other girls couldn't stand it any longer and decided to participate in the sensuality. Margaret put her belly into use, and Laureline dropped her skirt, dancing above us from the waist down, only in the thing that protected her virtue. Bare legs and a face shining like the sun on the prairie reminded us of her Cherokee blood, and as she wriggled there, I felt something of the old days when her ancestors could fuck under the hot breath of the buffalo.
Arnolph whistled and also threw away what she could. She stood next to Laureline and arched proudly, shaking rhythmically. She was like a cobra following a flute, with flexible legs, an ass that she shot across the room, and breasts that bounced around in her bra. They were what I wanted to have!
It looked like the girls would prefer a guy to come, and even I wished he was here, but no one bothered to show up. Even the principal was busy now and he wouldn't see me until the Coordination Council meeting.
I was dreaming, but I had to open my eyes quickly. If I'd rather have someone here than guys, it would be Jenine. But they couldn't let her out of the dungeon.
Just like they couldn't let Larissa go.
A sense of shame forced me to end it sooner than Arnolph would have liked. I asked her to go with me to one of the dungeon cells that had been out of use since Christmas.
Arnolph opened the window in the door for me. I didn't call out. It was clear that Larissa would come. I stared into the hole until a part of the brave Polish woman's face appeared.
“I told you my name and ID number six hundred and thirty-seven times,” Larissa reminded me.
"And I apologized to you three hundred and seventy-five times," I replied.
"I think I said 'kiss my ass' ten times for every apology you made."
"My plan is working," I said sharply. "Mayson will free you. He’s going to send you and Jenine back to Poland. He's waiting for Green to lose his station. Until then, try to survive. They told me you haven't eaten in three days."
It was starting to haunt me in my sleep. Mayson didn't want to force-feed her yet. That would be another difficulty.
"Why won't Jenine confirm this to me?"
"Because I want her to stay my friend. I couldn't let you tell her that I was the one who betrayed you."
I heard the vibration of Larissa's breathing. It could have been a soft laugh or a sign of reflection. "If we get free, I won't tell her."
I didn't hear even a hint of amity.
"I know you don't like Mayson locking you up and what he's done to you, but he has no actual cruelty in himself. Unlike Green, who we're fighting. Jenine would surely testify to that."
“Green hasn't done anything to me yet.”
I had to make a face.
"You probably don't feel like it here, but I'm protecting you from Green!" I pounded on the door with both hands. "If someone like him took over the Tower, I'd trade places with you!"
I saw Larissa's hair in the window above. "I rather imagined that the Polish president would do it!"
Arnolph tapped me on the shoulder. "Don't you fancy a fruitful lesson in Realpolitik?"
The debates of the Coordination Council resembled school lessons about as much as a tomato fight, and with each new arrival, my fearful conviction grew that we would be stabbing and cutting each other, and it would have nothing to do with sadomasochism.
Agatha and the other two privileged ones publicly presented themselves as signatories After the events of this morning's breakfast, it should have been crystal clear to Mayson that only Manabe could pacify the whole group and that he wanted to make private capital out of it. On the other side sat the representatives of the Heirs, who saw in it an attack on the very essence of the system from which Mayson had already tried to escape once. wo camps between whose hateful gazes Lydia and I were supposed to cower. Except that the one who crouches encourages the predator. That's what I was going to become myself.
I looked at Cruz with a mixture of challenge and contempt. However, his eyes turned straight to the Mayson, and his speech also had no other target than the principal.
"Considering the thoroughness with which the inspectors are distinguished, we may be troubled by one question. Can you guess what it is, Miss Cabrera?"
He turned to Agatha, but she snarled and put her hand on Claudia's shoulder.
Cruz answered himself. "The question is – why aren't they here and don't they know how we solve pressing issues?"
"After all, our Council was established as a response to a crisis, the consequences of which were to be assessed," Randell pointed out. "Shouldn't that have been the paramount interest of the Prefect and Princeps?"
Cruz looked encouraged. "It seems that the primary concern of people like Mr. Manabe is to steal their wards from others. He robbed me of my lover an hour ago."
Stacey is going to fuck Manabe? Indeed, the Japanese are probably grateful for proper tits, and Stacey is for proper political power.
"Mr. Lefebvre has to consult with the Prefect," Mayson explained. "Mr. Olsson has to attend to government matters even remotely. And Mr. Manabe wants us to prepare an entirely separate meeting where we will defend the very point of Princess Towers to him. That was supposed to be the last part of our schedule."
Christ," Cruz cursed, and he made it sound like supreme blasphemy. "That man Is rewriting the rules so he can steal! What else was his breakfast charade about? He is appropriating our cunts!"
"You have a cunt, too?" Agatha asked.
"She was snatched from him, he said so, " Fitzpatrick joked.
Cruz picked up his chair and swung it in front of the principal's desk before sitting down again.
"As it happens, we can't do much more than complain to the currently unavailable councilman Olsson," Mayson remarked.
I had to release the pressure. I asked for the floor. "I think that if the other inspectors don't communicate with us, we have to show Manabe that we're able to pay him the proper tribute," I suggested. "After that, it will be easier to discuss his desired topics with him, and he might be more open to our criticism of his approach."
"He may be interested in women pushing themselves up his ass. And he'll do the same to them," Cruz said.
"Officially, all three of them should be present," FitzPatrick ignored his words. "But this idea might make it easier for us to talk to Manabe. The more public it is, the better."
Mayson tapped his pen on the table. "There was one event in planning. we have already organized one sports celebration in honor of the Heirs, one to welcome Paladins, and the third one we intended for the end of the school year. Nevertheless, an equally solemn occasion has arisen for us."
So far, I have remained meekly silent. It paid off the next day so I did not protest against the drops of hot wax on my body and forced my hands to work as we harvested vegetables from the beds. I was loading carrots onto the cart when a warden approached us and announced, "The current program is being canceled! You will come to the stadium locker room to receive costumes for an instant sports event!" The only thing that surprised me was not the news itself but the speed with which it was organized.
Two groups of sixteen women met in the locker room. I and the people around were unpacking weird monkey costumes with exposed arms and legs. The second group wore white suits with feathers and black spots. "I would have assumed Stacey would be here," I told Nicole as she put her clothes in the locker. Lydia turned to me. "Stacey's lost!" she told me. "Try not to ask. It looks like it's forbidden to talk about it!" I nodded, not knowing what to think now.
Wasn't I a bit glad that Stacey was gone?
"You kicked me and woke me up." Only so sleepy I could think of to blame Stacey. She was perched on the toilet while I writhed on the floor.
"Like I care," Stacey replied. "I think what comes out of my ass is more valuable than you, shit-piece."
I sobbed and grabbed her ankle. "I didn't know what would happen if I didn't please them somehow!"
Stacey shook my hand. "You've forgotten this isn't about the people we left back home. You've risked our future, which is now a little more horrible. Die." I curled up and looked at the wall. It was better to look at the pattern of the tiles than at the unforgiving face.
I was surrounded by people. On one side Arnolph with a camera and her assistants on the other, a group of four or five classmates, their leader cuddling with something in her arms. I clung to her.
"Do you have something for me?" I asked, prepared that I wouldn't get anything today.
“A smaller gesture,” Erin said. She spread a piece of clothing in front of me. I would have expected a simple sweater, but Erin’s gift shocked me. She handed me a green waistcoat, a long cape trailing from its shoulders, giving any petite girl a regal appearance. I saw an embroidered picture on one of the flaps. I smiled and cooed at Erin before taking a closer look. I saw a fantasy warrior with a not-very-well-done face. She was wearing just such a cloak and had a sword drawn in front of her. But she was pointing the blade at her heart, and on the hilt hung a parchment with a text.
“We signatories have only begun our fight, and we will continue it even if it costs us our lives,” Erin said aloud. "It's not just about the text of the petition; it's also about the fact that thanks to the strength of our spirit, I am showing what has been hidden inside us for a long time." She ran her tongue over her lips. "Do you know why we're handing this to you? We call ourselves the Raiding Shieldmaidens!" She shoved the clothes into my hands. I needed to be sure of Arnolph's support, but she shook her head from a meter away. She waited politely for the girls to move away and said quietly: "No, you won't take it on yourself."
"I'm glad that someone associates the show with me," I defended their interest meekly.
"You are not an actress. You are our model inmate. That is why we enabled you this celebration. You can´t live off our favor and deliberately fall out of it."
"I could let someone impregnate me just like Barbara," I teased Arnolph.
"Your imagination is not helping you, girl," the spokeswoman said. "That only works once. And another Princess Tower even experienced the birth of a baby. Granted, that was because the gal was pregnant when they arrested her, but a single handkerchief was not enough to dry me."
I put my gift on the table. I'll wear it one day.
Montserrat didn't want to get off the pole, and with her typical perseverance, she kept changing songs. One of the other contributions she chose for our amusement was Popular from the Wicked, which she complemented with seductive moves. Sharona smiled and jumped to her girlfriend. She bared herself so we could all see the bra cups covering her nipples and decided to outdo Montserrat in a passionate smile category. Wrapping her arms around her lover's hips, she lifted the loose skirt and began to massage Montserrat's cotton panties on the crotch.
Montserrat’s singing lapsed, she couldn't control her passions, so she began to take longer, and longer pauses between words and danced instead. She grabbed Sharona's hands and spun her around the pole. She may never have worn her chastity belt, but this was her responsibility. The Tower's official policy was that if we didn't wear it and someone raped us, it was our fault.
She moved to Sharona's head and planted a long kiss on her forehead as she pinched the small nipples on the naughty redhead's body between her fingers. Sharona gasped. Many other girls couldn't stand it any longer and decided to participate in the sensuality. Margaret put her belly into use, and Laureline dropped her skirt, dancing above us from the waist down, only in the thing that protected her virtue. Bare legs and a face shining like the sun on the prairie reminded us of her Cherokee blood, and as she wriggled there, I felt something of the old days when her ancestors could fuck under the hot breath of the buffalo.
Arnolph whistled and also threw away what she could. She stood next to Laureline and arched proudly, shaking rhythmically. She was like a cobra following a flute, with flexible legs, an ass that she shot across the room, and breasts that bounced around in her bra. They were what I wanted to have!
It looked like the girls would prefer a guy to come, and even I wished he was here, but no one bothered to show up. Even the principal was busy now and he wouldn't see me until the Coordination Council meeting.
I was dreaming, but I had to open my eyes quickly. If I'd rather have someone here than guys, it would be Jenine. But they couldn't let her out of the dungeon.
Just like they couldn't let Larissa go.
A sense of shame forced me to end it sooner than Arnolph would have liked. I asked her to go with me to one of the dungeon cells that had been out of use since Christmas.
Arnolph opened the window in the door for me. I didn't call out. It was clear that Larissa would come. I stared into the hole until a part of the brave Polish woman's face appeared.
“I told you my name and ID number six hundred and thirty-seven times,” Larissa reminded me.
"And I apologized to you three hundred and seventy-five times," I replied.
"I think I said 'kiss my ass' ten times for every apology you made."
"My plan is working," I said sharply. "Mayson will free you. He’s going to send you and Jenine back to Poland. He's waiting for Green to lose his station. Until then, try to survive. They told me you haven't eaten in three days."
It was starting to haunt me in my sleep. Mayson didn't want to force-feed her yet. That would be another difficulty.
"Why won't Jenine confirm this to me?"
"Because I want her to stay my friend. I couldn't let you tell her that I was the one who betrayed you."
I heard the vibration of Larissa's breathing. It could have been a soft laugh or a sign of reflection. "If we get free, I won't tell her."
I didn't hear even a hint of amity.
"I know you don't like Mayson locking you up and what he's done to you, but he has no actual cruelty in himself. Unlike Green, who we're fighting. Jenine would surely testify to that."
“Green hasn't done anything to me yet.”
I had to make a face.
"You probably don't feel like it here, but I'm protecting you from Green!" I pounded on the door with both hands. "If someone like him took over the Tower, I'd trade places with you!"
I saw Larissa's hair in the window above. "I rather imagined that the Polish president would do it!"
Arnolph tapped me on the shoulder. "Don't you fancy a fruitful lesson in Realpolitik?"
The debates of the Coordination Council resembled school lessons about as much as a tomato fight, and with each new arrival, my fearful conviction grew that we would be stabbing and cutting each other, and it would have nothing to do with sadomasochism.
Agatha and the other two privileged ones publicly presented themselves as signatories After the events of this morning's breakfast, it should have been crystal clear to Mayson that only Manabe could pacify the whole group and that he wanted to make private capital out of it. On the other side sat the representatives of the Heirs, who saw in it an attack on the very essence of the system from which Mayson had already tried to escape once. wo camps between whose hateful gazes Lydia and I were supposed to cower. Except that the one who crouches encourages the predator. That's what I was going to become myself.
I looked at Cruz with a mixture of challenge and contempt. However, his eyes turned straight to the Mayson, and his speech also had no other target than the principal.
"Considering the thoroughness with which the inspectors are distinguished, we may be troubled by one question. Can you guess what it is, Miss Cabrera?"
He turned to Agatha, but she snarled and put her hand on Claudia's shoulder.
Cruz answered himself. "The question is – why aren't they here and don't they know how we solve pressing issues?"
"After all, our Council was established as a response to a crisis, the consequences of which were to be assessed," Randell pointed out. "Shouldn't that have been the paramount interest of the Prefect and Princeps?"
Cruz looked encouraged. "It seems that the primary concern of people like Mr. Manabe is to steal their wards from others. He robbed me of my lover an hour ago."
Stacey is going to fuck Manabe? Indeed, the Japanese are probably grateful for proper tits, and Stacey is for proper political power.
"Mr. Lefebvre has to consult with the Prefect," Mayson explained. "Mr. Olsson has to attend to government matters even remotely. And Mr. Manabe wants us to prepare an entirely separate meeting where we will defend the very point of Princess Towers to him. That was supposed to be the last part of our schedule."
Christ," Cruz cursed, and he made it sound like supreme blasphemy. "That man Is rewriting the rules so he can steal! What else was his breakfast charade about? He is appropriating our cunts!"
"You have a cunt, too?" Agatha asked.
"She was snatched from him, he said so, " Fitzpatrick joked.
Cruz picked up his chair and swung it in front of the principal's desk before sitting down again.
"As it happens, we can't do much more than complain to the currently unavailable councilman Olsson," Mayson remarked.
I had to release the pressure. I asked for the floor. "I think that if the other inspectors don't communicate with us, we have to show Manabe that we're able to pay him the proper tribute," I suggested. "After that, it will be easier to discuss his desired topics with him, and he might be more open to our criticism of his approach."
"He may be interested in women pushing themselves up his ass. And he'll do the same to them," Cruz said.
"Officially, all three of them should be present," FitzPatrick ignored his words. "But this idea might make it easier for us to talk to Manabe. The more public it is, the better."
Mayson tapped his pen on the table. "There was one event in planning. we have already organized one sports celebration in honor of the Heirs, one to welcome Paladins, and the third one we intended for the end of the school year. Nevertheless, an equally solemn occasion has arisen for us."
So far, I have remained meekly silent. It paid off the next day so I did not protest against the drops of hot wax on my body and forced my hands to work as we harvested vegetables from the beds. I was loading carrots onto the cart when a warden approached us and announced, "The current program is being canceled! You will come to the stadium locker room to receive costumes for an instant sports event!" The only thing that surprised me was not the news itself but the speed with which it was organized.
Two groups of sixteen women met in the locker room. I and the people around were unpacking weird monkey costumes with exposed arms and legs. The second group wore white suits with feathers and black spots. "I would have assumed Stacey would be here," I told Nicole as she put her clothes in the locker. Lydia turned to me. "Stacey's lost!" she told me. "Try not to ask. It looks like it's forbidden to talk about it!" I nodded, not knowing what to think now.
Wasn't I a bit glad that Stacey was gone?
"You kicked me and woke me up." Only so sleepy I could think of to blame Stacey. She was perched on the toilet while I writhed on the floor.
"Like I care," Stacey replied. "I think what comes out of my ass is more valuable than you, shit-piece."
I sobbed and grabbed her ankle. "I didn't know what would happen if I didn't please them somehow!"
Stacey shook my hand. "You've forgotten this isn't about the people we left back home. You've risked our future, which is now a little more horrible. Die." I curled up and looked at the wall. It was better to look at the pattern of the tiles than at the unforgiving face.