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The Princesses in the Tower, by Miras

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Co-lectors left the lecture hall first. The occasional isolation might be the price for the endorsement by the wrong people. We were told to free ourselves from chains. Vivid memories of porn weakened the coping. What is to come will bring me back to my body, the intercourse will knot the nerves of my insides. I should have studied Tantra...

Stacey took her frustrations out.

"Today, it will be my premiere with the cock..."

"Ha, ha," laughed Claudia.

"Here, of course... I have made myself a reputation and the harmful one at that. I can speak only to Senator here, but our Society of misery welcomes any interested martyrs."

We were forming the orderly procession and I got the idea.

"Claudia, do you know Morse code?"

"No, I haven´t needed it. Ask Ruby, she is into marine..."

"You could have chat with her!" I whispered into her ear as we found ourselves near the door and snapped the head towards Stacey.

"We ladies of loose morals have a special room, where I could have invited her, but it is undoubtedly bugged. Since you would need forever to teach me the dots and dashes, she can´t speak, except maybe in the gym."

"Why there?"

She led me into a more cluttered part of the mob.

"Gym´s not bugged, Nicole! On ninety-nine percent. Why would it be? We are there to move, not to talk, they divide us and put us under absolute supervision. How could we plan anything there?"

Stacey bumped into us both and used an uncompromising tone.

"I heard you. You must take me to the gym. I have a big plan for it!"

Claudia looked fed up.

"Will I be rewarded for my effort?"

"Richly!"

Claudia raised her hand to the closest warden.

"I´m the privileged one. Claudia Fleischer. Queens of the match - Stacey Hamilton and Nicole Xiong are feeling unrest before their first lovemaking lessons. I suggested to them that we postpone it for us three and I will show them the gym, including the new decoration."

"Starting later means finishing later."

"Not a problem."

Warden had to phone each of our lovers and luckily for us, nobody had objections. She led us to the door with two utterly sealed posters, one with me naked, the other with Stacey. The Mud Queen growled. Not that I felt easy with such placement..

"We would like to go unaccompanied."

"That would be against your safety."

Claudia tapped on my shoulder blade. “Please! We want to feel like when are alone in the room. We two live together already. And we want to make Ms. Hamilton our sister. Yeah, she is in danger of being bloodied by us, but we are smart girls if I can say. We don´t want to lose our privileges or fame."

"Then you have the minimum of time. Five minutes and I´ll snatch you for lessons."

We were going to utilize that time fully. Our talk was barely understandable, but it was meaningful, unlike silhouettes of exercise bikes or squat racks. Stacey explained her intentions to us.

"This is the plan. Jenine is not shagged by a guy, but by a couple of whores, from The Tower, most likely. When the lesson will be ending, she will snatch their mobile browsing thing and hides it under the outfit. I don´t think they will notice. Tomorrow we have a time off except for the lunch and the dinner service. I will bring the food to the guests and I will hide our prey behind the heating. With a bit of luck, not even cleaners will find it there and we can wait for the right moment to pick it up and later go right here if I can really use the place."

"If you can´t, then we are in big trouble already," I said.

"There´s no way back for us! Thankfully, you volunteered as my allies. We will need each other and come up with some new opportunities to get here without being followed and have a chat with some people outside. I know about one former client of mine..."

"Castagnac!," Claudia interrupted her. "My photographer... And maybe some of the family."

"Peter!" What took me so long?

"To all, you will remember, we need a lot of people to tell us what is going on and to whom we describe this place uncensored. I´m doing some experiments with kilts, but they can be used only sometimes during Homemaking. I will teach you Morse, that´s for sure and thus we outsmart them!"

Except for the shame, I had no fear of many things. I felt lucky to be intertwined with the most resourceful inmate. Helping her means possibly helping every victim of the regime.

The Warden´s scorn grew over the few minutes and her face, if it were a painting, would be now assessed as cubism-influenced, and unsatisfied from all the routine-breaking. As for me, the joy from the meeting unfastened all the tangles in my entrails.

The row guided me into room 68. My lover wasn´t in bed, but I was surely for a cranked head. The blanket and the bigger pillows laid on the floor. The mattress was wrapped in some cellophane and only two small pillows rested on it. Even they looked strange.

"Good evening, Sir." I greeted someone I haven´t seen and tried to catch this evasive boy.

"Welcome, bunny," answered the deep voice. The guy in a shirt with various ice-creams on it was looking down to bowels and was weighing some cylinder in the hand. He finally faced me. A slightly stocky red-haired man, roughly in my age was gaping at my legs at first, and then slapped the hands together.

"Worth the wait, beauty! I don´t know if you are hungry, but I must eat. In a way that not goes beyond mere digestion. I am glad that I have someone of your origin for that. Perhaps you´ve heard about Japanese erotic tradition called Nyotaimori."

"We´re from Laos!"

"So? This is not going to be real Nyotaimori either...."

He took some cake with a brown and white crust from the cabinet and left it on the bed.

"When you lay down, drill this punch cake with your butt. I want it flat and crumbs to be everywhere! I will eat it with some other side dishes. Oh, and when you will strip, do it piece by piece, my Indochina goddess!"

Maniac, but the inventive one.

"Waitress!,“ he shouted an order like thunder.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Your menu is sufficiently perverted, but one item is designed just for my tastes. Bring me the Sweet Asian."

I have stretched my arms sideways.

"There comes one prepared to you!"

The pieces of my outfit were falling to the ground one by one like raindrops to continue the weather metaphors. Playful interaction also helped me to overcome the resistance and to switch on my coping. I might have not had any clothes at the moment, but the dignity elevated me at that moment as a uniform would. I had a discussion with my skin, so I could derive some destructive pride when my ass deformed the cake. To my surprise, something was crumbling under my head too!

"What´s with the pillows?"

"They are an awesome marzipan!"

Such might be the wedding night of Willy Wonka if that bloke was able to get laid.

The guy wasn´t done with the feast preparation. Over the bed hung a ceiling mirror, so I had a detailed overview. From the one bowl, he poured warm chocolate on my legs and I caught myself thinking how it would be perfect if Peter was doing it and this is the next best thing.

Then the guy sprayed the whipping cream, starting on my breasts, doing a big S over the chest and belly, ending between the legs. He put some bonbons where the nipples were, pineapple by the smell, and sprinkled me with cinnamon. In the end, he came up with a bowel containing sour candy of many colors and shapes. He scooped them into a full spoon and stuck it into my pussy. Ughhhhhh, that was overflowing me... Second spoon, third, fourth. I pressed my brown and dripping legs a little closer, but retracting it would be just painful.

"Hold it on, girl and..." He did short double face-palm, but I did not sense sadness or dismay. If there was some shock, it occurred because he cherished his creation very high, perhaps more than expected. He was gentle when he lifted my bottom and stuck out the whole tongue into the punch cake without any consistency. With the small spoon, he dropped some doses of marzipan from the pillows and he dipped it all in the chocolate layer on my legs. Sometimes he fed me the piece and I get stiffening again, which means trouble when you have to swallow.

The cream and cinnamon came later and part of it he pushed down to the crotch. In the second-to-last part, he came up with what he called his own design. He made it into the shape of the spoon alright, but the mechanized part had an utterly different function, predictable in the context. The first time he pushed it into me, I felt only the subsequent relief after he made me lighter and tasted the altered sour candy. In other instances, it was different. The vibrating touched my tissue, resonating in the womb, like a reward for all that hardships... Pelvis got some movement as I went to meet the spoon. Some of the sour candy had been spilled, which disappointed me...His tongue came the last, finishing the job, changing the tension into pure joy and I knocked the top of my head onto awesome marzipan in euphoria!

The cunnilingus has brought us closer. His name was Carl, he was studying at MIT, and except for technology, candy, and girls from the East he also liked Polynesian statues. He helped me with all the cleaning before releasing me prematurely.

This could have been much worse, but that will come and my concerns are just a shadow of future happenings. The orgasming could not perk me up, that was the case of the rising conspiracy. In the dining hall, I was shoveling the tripe soup and I was looking for Stacey. When they were collecting the dishes I saw her and Janine side by side. I raised my eyebrows in question. Jenine nodded and put a hand between the belly and the chest.

This night will be so much better. My room was full again. As Claudia, who was smiling here and there, put it, I was "The last bitch standing" as all others were ready to sleep. Stripper Patricia was closest to that state. Alice welcomed me and asked me about Lovemaking, talking almost from the dreaming. Ruby was reading some files in her bed and she kindly notified me that she looked upon the things from my Sky Queen basket. I´ve got them on the nightstand. Cards... We will not play them. French perfumed soap. Yes, that will come to use. Portfolio of Holy submission. Alice might like it for one weekend... Oh, and the tiara for me.

"So, Ruby," I said and showed herself with the jewel. "In case you still want to be the president, don´t forget that we have a confirmed leader!"

"The knowledge is power, Nicole and I am the C-O-L-E-C-T-O-R."

Knowledge? I will have it, Peter will have it. I intend to be the knowledge distributor, Ruby!
 
In the following two parts we wil take a break from traditional sadistic maledom but don´t worry, it will be back soon!

Chapter 2, Part 5

Zita

I wish my textbook would burn!

The Four-winged Announcer of The New Androcentrism is the object we are instructed to cuddle as if it was our most trustworthy adviser and also bed warmer. Weatherby names all eight men who contributed to the text, not alluding to the presented ideas. He revels in underlining its central position in the sources of the revised constitution. The content we are to experience in silent reading. I am not allowed to discuss a single statement. The class was safe from pure disagreement.

The first quarter of the book was dedicated to the fact that in the case of the human species, nature has created the duality of leading masculinity and supportive feminity. This is manifested in physical and mental differences and people must accommodate these roles. When they do, the reciprocal agreement and willingness to the unquestioned division of duties will follow.

OK, the basis of this is true. We are naturally set in this way. The thing is, we are not just natural creatures, we are sentient. We also vary much more than other animals. Therefore it will be always more complicated with us. Some might find satisfaction in a simple contract that might be expressed in a few words, others will need a long list of exceptions and clauses that will clarify the best terms corresponding to their lives, not to some imperative we are born with. If we want to be human beings, we should know it can be transcended.

The following section stated how most societies evolved in accordance with this principle, that it was challenged only a very little and it came up as an automatic supposition to both parties.

In other words, it was saying: "everybody agreed." Obviously not everybody, hence the protests and changes that came later. The culture can convince people about a lot of things, especially about social stratification, which in turn opens a doorway to corruption and misuse of power. That leads to somebody´s pain and in some cases, to death. Yes, after two days, I had air bubbles in the throat, turning around into the boot-stomping, ready to finish me off. Somebody should write the alternate history where Etruscans founded Western civilization and women, therefore, were treated respectfully. Of course, I know that without our actual history, I would never be born.

Fuck the causality.

With the exception of its condescending language, you couldn´t much respond to the third section, because the postulates were describing the broad phenomena. It started by stating that feminism and emancipation proved that a woman can be born with sufficient intelligence skills outside of domestic expertise, but it also made women as a whole more emotionally unstable, men became weaker and it limited the growth of the population tremendously. A woman can have abilities, but she must use them for the well-being of her male overseer, so the fruits of the labor will be better concentrated.

I am very sorry that my freedom offended you so much.

The final chapters were sketching more implementations of The New Androcentrism under the ignorant underlying slogan "Let´s go to the future by revisiting the past". They talk about the essential concept of "Secondary citizenship" encompassing the reinstated guardianship over us and the female social credit system. Lastly, they rambled about how to face our disobedience, unfaithfulness, hysteria, and evading deserved punishment. It read like a breeder's handbook. That I especially like, when men are talking about us as if we were some breed of dogs or horses, which happens to talk somehow.

Weatherby has informed the class that the lesson will continue right on Monday and he expects paper presentations, the topic being "Justification of my submission and servitude" with references to all four parts of the book. The homework is to be carried out in the central library.

No matter how I felt about The Announcer, I gripped it, as any good student would do with the tome of earth-shattering knowledge. Barbara, of all people, embarrassed me since she flat-out refused the pretension. Her arm moved like she was practicing before throwing a baseball. More than once she clasped the cover pages by fingers and the waving rest was just asking to be plucked out.

Did she polemize with every section thoroughly like me?

In the dining hall, we asked for our cushions automatically. There was a foggy vision in my head of us sitting on the bench healed. Poor Julie could not sit at all. Some of the classmates looked upon her derisively, but none of them dared to insult her. In fact, Lydia, a stark-eyed girl of black hair, with whom I tied her up, rose from her seat and assured her that she Is eager to cut her own hands now.

What was I doing during the heartful episode? Eating my favorite soup. Am I some sort of robot, whose settings are highly corrigible? I have to replay Stacey's words because she named something undeniable. I rose too and snatched my cushion. Lydia sympathized, as she gave me hers. You can say the test of our dinner was spiced up, however, this time we were naughty and Julie kissed us on the forehead.

The Day has gone back and forth its scheme. We came here in the morning together, in the evening we will be lying down at the same time. As a group we conveyed the germinating determination, Stacey and Jenine becoming models for the others. Therese with Barbara looked fascinated by their resolve that needed no words, but these two had more melancholy in their eyes. Not far from our room I was telling myself that I am not a robot, android, or gynoid. I am the mediator, who can tip the scales of optimism.

The role made it harder at the moment when we weren´t uttering that many words and some acting incomprehensibly. Like Jenine examining Stacey´s Homemaking outfit in the bathroom. I was the only one who wanted to know what is in the gift basket. Yes, who of a decent mind would collect prizes from such people?

The prizes in question... I won´t be mentioning the cute tiara or BDSM portfolio to them, it would aggravate their temper and opinion of me. The perfumed soap was more neutral and beneficial, I drew attention to it.

"Even if it would be car-sized, it wouldn´t be enough", said Stacey. Others, despite not answering, looked happier, perhaps lured into the sweet-smelling shower. The hot water and the lavender all over us made us much more vital. I counted on it, went to Jenine, and offered her the last piece of Stacey´s delivery - the deck of rummy.

"You owe me some entertainment for the morning assistance!"

Jenine suppressed the last bits of bitterness in her face, caressed my hand, and took a seat on the floor. I looked at Therese and Barbara with an invitation. They responded in kind. Before I could count to three, they waited for me to start dealing with the cards. I haven´t done it until Stacey wasn´t also with the rest of us, leaning against the bed. I gave each of us seven pieces and flung the remaining pile into the center. Now, off to go with some ugly outsider. I had... Jesus, two jokers! The Batman blessing. Q of diamonds, 2 of spades, 3 and 4 of hearts, 10 of diamonds, well one alliance is possibly forming, but 2 of spades, you must go!

Stacey discarded J of diamonds. No, why I can´t take it!?

Jenine discarded 3 of the spades. Two combinations for mine set or run, but I can´t use it for either type of meld.

My new card is Q of spades, I discarded 3 of the hearts. Barbara took it at once. She had A-2-3 and the spade Q-K-joker runs, so hers was the first victory. She discarded the junk and so did Therese and Stacey. Jenine discarded J of diamonds and I did put a smile worthy of comic book Joker on my face.

I couldn´t imagine our captors having similar fun.
 
From now on, I´m going to divide longer parts to separate segments

Chapter 2, Part 6 (1)

Dorothy

Today is not so thrilling. I have not a single record about some frigid asking for truncheon or being locked up. Me, girls, Vicky, and the guys are doing difference by the pivotal admonitions and the bitches will remember for a while. Maybe we should pretend they are starting the riot? Thompson needs the kick to the guts and guess, who will do that? Her face is the first on my list, others are there without me knowing the names. Blood and the purple skin would just make them pretty.

Michelle is never behind and never ahead, she keeps the tempo with me, and the closer we are to the chief, the more often she opens her mouth.

"Vicky was proud of me and I never heard her anything about you displeasing her. I bet we are for some allowance."

"There is a ball and Vicky´s invited. She got permission to come with two more people. The secret is out."

"Ball? The Council guys are partying for the whole week?"

"They are about the schedule. Saw the bitches, now they will be just among the top dogs"

We open the office door.

Vicky cheers when she sees me and squints her eyes happily when Michelle´s freckles also shine in front of her.

"I will not have to repeat myself. So, listen very carefully, I shall say..."

"Are we going to the ball?" asks Michelle.

"Oh, your intuition spared me a few seconds."

We laugh.

"I´ve told her something. You called me, I did the math."

Vicky understands.

"Telltale... Count how much energy and speed is required to be prepared for 7 pm."

Michelle covers her cheeks.

"Two and a quarter of an hour to do something about my face? OK, I´ll do something about the basics!"

I giggle. We are like some two Cinderellas with a living mom.

Till our way doesn´t divide, we are trotting as one from the security command into barracks C-A. I don´t have a large window at my place, bitches have larger ones, just like everything, there are five of them in one place... Oh, I don´t need that when I can switch on the light and look into the mirror. Michelle won´t do anything about her face, while mine is a God´s gift, not a canvas for a palette of makeup. I dazzle as I am. Indecisiveness kicks in when I see my figure in a black cocktail dress. I like to be sugar dressed in the thorns, not in the glaze. Blahhh, this is a dream job, but I am not an addict anymore. There is more than one way to be intimidating. My eyes, they stab...

I hear the beeping of the text message.

D. and M., come to meet me in the instructors' lounge. V.

Great! There might be some fun in work before the play. I browse for the map and the short line to that place near the central library, object A-B. My arms and legs feel heady when they can breathe the evening air. The Sun is giving us the last Friday rays... Bloody hell, I´m going back in the night! I won´t get much sleep and tomorrow is promising nothing more than some tedious surveillances. The ball better be full of glimmering and real-life Kens.

Somebody talks in the lounge, I hear the voices of two ladies, but neither of them is Vicky´s, one of them talks in a much farther distance. I can do maybe two steps and the long table is trying to break me in the waist. The damned thing is being used now as an island with shipwreck survivors. Hot blonde guy with a goatee drinks the tea and some greyhound-faced warbling gal in white is putting biscuits between his teeth, waiting to the bite, and finally pushing the second half whole. She is either completely androcentered or madly in love... I now recognize him, he is the one who teaches the little scraps almost everything, including the men-worship. Her big pupils observe the muscles as if they had arranged a private blowjob lesson. Replace her with me anytime, bro, for my cocksucking is an A+.

I am not noticed by them, but by another female nerdy face, the long needle going through the bun of black hair. I can´t tell if she is bitch or free. There is a way to ask her.

"Are you co-lector?"

"No, I´m fully-fledged lector, bonehead! McLeaf. Georgianna McLeaf. You are the lowliest here. How does it feel?"

Why isn´t she a warden?

Vicky, dressed in a robe, is standing and watching the other motherly person. That is Clara... Rosenbaum, I think, who pacifies the scraps. She talks to the cell phone.

"Agree, Roberta", says the councilor. "I´ll talk to her and you can be present. I... No, bringing anyone here is forbidden and one of them... They might praise her for it. We must make a normal kid out of her. Then you ag... Yes, Spanish flies, not just for this case. I´ll show you recordings from the ball. You and Sylvia, have a nice weekend."

She mutes the cell phone and disposes it under some handkerchiefs in her purse.

"One incident and plans are ordained... Sorry, Vicky, this has to be one of your lieutenants."

"Yep, it's Dorothy. Dorothy, Clara."

Too lazy to correct her that I know, we do a short handshake.

"Did I came here, cause of that thing you were phoning about?"

"No, that will be taken care of by me and two co-lectors."

"You have come at my request", says the angryfuck Georgianna. "At the Holy submissions area, I was visited by the two sons of the Dodge family. They sponsor dungeons of the Towers. Their desire is something they are ashamed to talk about but considering who they are and who I am... We made a very lucrative deal. One that must include wardens and some other lectors. I made a little performance script with a role for each attendant of this meeting.”

"Show it to her, Michelle is busy with her ugliness shaming issues", says Vicky.

Georgianna gives me a paper page of the printed text with some underlined sections. Wow! I never dreamed I will try this. Hi, hi, hi...

"It must stay secret!", proclaims the only guy here. "Tonight we are going against every chapter of The Announcer...Justified by friendship and armed with a love of buck!"
 
(2-6-2)

My section of the paper isn´t exactly individualized, so when Michelle in the blue dress comes to the lounge, I am holding it in front of her nose.

"Watch and learn! There is some bloody action stored for us...

Vicky and the blond guy Weatherby are at the forefront of our gala flock. Clara and Georgianna on their tail, me with Michelle are showing back to the ever-obliging natural sciences lector, whom Weatherby called once "Lucy", I think. Thus accepting our indicated order of importance, we are getting to know the golden heart of the B complex. We can´t sit in the lobby, heirs and heiresses have the full privilege and an innumerable amount. It is impossible to bow to each of them separately, so we just tend to look to the ground and back off to the company of other lectors and section chiefs. I look up admirably to the guys, do some funny faces behind the ladies and despite no one is watching me, I am changing body postures. One of them has to be the right for flaunting myself, to make people wish I left my dress right in the hall.

We don´t hear the sound of lock this far, we notice the change by rippling of heads. We resume our formation and we are not using merely the sight to set our direction. All of us hear the regular thudding as if something truly big wanted to talk with the dude who lives on the other side of the ground. The sound effects go on, each time louder than previously. The hall is gobbling up the guests. As we are closing in, the sixth thud roars and the unusual echo comes, the wordless voice from the hollow sky. Sweet Jesus, it pervades me, how I will survive where the loudspeakers are?

The tones are now quieter and take the turns. Drumming calls our strength, the echo invites us to venture anywhere we are needed. I am now in the ballroom, the queue is dissolving. In the dark, the higher I look, the more I see. I don´t mean the movements and the reflections in the balconies. Above the door is white canvas with Tower symbols, the least visible even in the blue half-light. The opposite wall is covered in the black layer, made prominent by the golden emblem of a golden horse and the grown man giving longbows to three small boys. Brotherhood´s official seal is maybe more tasteful than the flag in the middle. The Fraternal Prefectures of Atlantic are giving the wrong kind of homage to its core predecessor. An entire half of the space is given to the field of numerous tailed stars and in the upper left corner is a simple monad as a distant heritage from the Technocracy movement. The rest are three stripes - white, red, and green, the last one being the only reminder of Mexicans as one of the founding nations.

I don´t know, who started the chain reaction. Every staff member goes to the walls, we frame the hall. The heirs receiving our strong applause are less and less misty as the lights show their glory, now in proper spacing.

They... They´re like me. Soldiers of a kind. Men have the uniforms, women wear robes, but on them are metals of accepted daughters. Everybody must prove themselves, everybody is in a unit. I love my fellows.

"Welcome, children of the most praiseworthy!"

That is Principal Mayson´s voice. He... He stands in the wide lodge, presiding over the Tower canvas.

"Gentlemen among you might long for sleep after various episodes of passion, which makes me and the other servants of the Reeducation program extremely appreciative of their presence. The first weekend ahead of us means the new way of inmates’ preparation. After all, the day doesn´t pass here without a unique kind of enlightenment. The heiresses will be more involved, walking by side and talking to our Rapunzels during the model of social life. Tonight, however, dance and meet new people in the realm of free citizens."

There we are at the point when people say: "And the fun begins." Well, I´m not a dancer. I see the people pulling the other person; they could very well be paper butterflies on sticks. I wouldn´t do it even with the hottest of our lectors. I´m rather searching for the tallest guys, eyes sliding from the shoulders down, taking notes, and creating a puzzle of my hypothetical ideal man.

Michelle is looking for a dance, she´s parading to the heirs no less. I stop the fool.

"They wouldn´t be holding you for long. Let them dance with their sisters."

"You think they are incestuous?"

"Should we try? If they’ll get a hard-on by looking at a sibling or at freckled gargoyle? Hi, hi, hi."

She doesn´t laugh. Perhaps she will give a hard-on to that single guy, who turns down every woman and is impatient to cross the hall. Has a glasses and dull asymmetrical face, but cool brown hair and does every step like on a parade. . Yep, that´s Mayson. I with Michelle go a little closer, not so much because of Principal himself, we follow the lead of Vicky, another not-dancer.

"You have spoken about social things. Stay on the floor and talk to them", she says.

"Victoria I would gladly get them to know, but honchos of head honcho are only summoning, not descending..." He points out the Brotherhood canvas.

"Cao and Neumann want to discuss something about the security, possibly other issues..."

"And you will have to tell me security things after everything will be agreed upon."

"That´s a chain of command for you. Come to think about it, they asked me about it, if I have no consultants to add and I can see you as such. We can climb as a team."

"Daniel, I did not expect..."

"Vicky, we want to go as well!", I shouted. "Consultants of the consultant!"

Mayson smiles. "Some cute asses would be welcomed. Fellows will like a couple of them coming voluntarily."

Vicky looks too thoughtful to make a joke.

"Oh, if it comes to triple dating, I choose Cao. Sorry, Daniel, but he is the Mr. Influence."

The way up has a lot of stairs, owing to the fact they are low, so the rise towards the nest of power is not strenuous. The clicking of heels against the music of the ball is lost at the top. On the right, there stands a miniature waterfall that is in truth not so small and the water is murmuring. Neumann pays attention to that very thing, stiff on his chair. Cao is the one who stands up as we come close by.
 
(2-6-3)

"Fellow Mayson, we thought you don´t have the suites. And that in case you would come with someone, that it would be only one person."

"Victoria´s lieutenants haven´t come to sit, fellow Cao. They know how to respect superiors."

Consultants have the entire offices, dude!

"Thank you. So, Madame, take a seat... Fellow Mayson, you are so far good in presentation. I hope you like the Tower as much as our guests do."

"It´s a key institution of our system. I believe in my mission to bring inmates to their senses and decent families to satisfaction."

Cao nods.

"The institution is marvelous. Although I always disliked the name "The Princess Tower". What about you, fellow Neumann? Doesn´t make it sound us like fairy-tale villains?"

The other councilman disagrees vehemently. "No! It´s not just romantic, it makes inmates feel loved. I also heard it was put there to make them remember they are vassals of the state - daughters of the Princeps himself. Besides, fellow Cao, maybe not you, but I was frequently entertained myself by the idea I´m a bad guy."

Slant eyes are suggesting that Cao´s brain is startled.

"Fellow Mayson, dear Madame, I have heard that the special inmate of the Tower was put to the soft torture, yesterday..."

"Jenine Thompson?", asked Vicky. "She wasn´t alone. I talked to her personally. This will make that simpleton remember to behave for weeks. If she will do something at least of that proportion, it will be worse and..."

"You are not doing anything worse to her on a physical level, that´s a type of deed, my prognostic section forbids in any case! Only a total cretin would think you can reeducate an ideologue of her magnitude. You make sure of her survival. She can have nightmares for the rest of her life, that´s the point, but she´ll survive graduate, the henpecked husband will apply for her and they will freeze in Nunavut. But the public should be assured she is alive and no woman should want to live like her"

"Good", says Mayson. "I want them to change, if partially in some cases. We have stern people who know their limits."

Here, here.

Cao´s pressed lips hint of pedantry.

"Stern people have their downsides. Just as we aren´t in a position to ditch religious leaders, we can´t be silent to pamphlets of those pseudo-fellow naggers. They like to talk about the danger of rape and the Towers are the bait of such tragedy happening. To minimalize the threat is in everybody´s interest."

"I offer the helpful product", says Neumann.

"Your companies produce everything, don´t they? OK, fellow, we´ll consider it, but don´t overvalue them."

"Clara is ordering Spanish flies, I am in short of bromine. Please, distinguish after the delivery", jokes Vicky again.

"Brotherhood has revived the circulation of the product and the profit." Neumann is gathering the new energy himself. "The auctions at the end of the school year will crown the big push of the industry. Trade with people is too much tempting to be completely nonexistent and trade with women comes from the instinct of man."

Cao shrugs.

"It is not about the moment when somebody pays for them. They are born to be servants. If we want to treat them as prisoners or slaves, that´s purely our choice. We feel a sense of life from giving the commands, they from obeying."

Girl taking commands from a woman has it best...

Neumann is not letting him interrupt his musings. "I hope this is making the world wealthier and more natural. Also, it gives us so much of wherewithal, I can finally see the shooting of a first-rate Perry Rhodan movie!"

"I don´t understand! Who is Perry Rhodan?"

Neumann explains like hypnotized. Perry Rhodan is some character from German kiddie books, who flew to the Moon and now fights the whole universe. That´s about it in a nutshell.

"Fellow Neumann, I knew you are a beta...."

"He is a follower of the inspirational imagination", says Mayson. Cao snaps back from the stone face.

"My apologies. This wasn´t what I have expected!"

"We both started as diplomats. Recently we are losing our temper in private. We will revisit our former lives the next week."

"Where are you going?"

"To Anglo-Wales Prefecture. We will negotiate with Scottish and Irish."

"I´m at disposal. You´ll speak with foreign politicians and I´m directing the mine of bribes."

What? Are we going to load airplanes with bitches?

"There´s a different game to be played", admonishes Neumann Principal´s suggestion.

“No later than at the end of September, the Towers principals will be invited to the e-conference with Prefects and one or two naggers representatives. This is mostly classified. Ladies, do you have something to do for like an hour and a half?"

"Yes, yeah, yeah", we answer.

"Then come back. The single mean student girl has caused us abrupt distress."
 
2-6-Finale

I don´t know which rascal dared to make problems and how she made Cao and Neumann discuss it. Curiosity in my head is retreating to playfulness. Vicky founds Georgianna for us. In her dress and rapid running, she is flickering like a flame, the parquet is burning purple.

Picking up Clara and also Weatherby, we are on the move and our ignited plum is checking the dancing couples. She gives me a shove and I focus on the square-jawed lean guy. I talk to the lady pinned against his waist first.

"Sorry, honorable fellow. I am warden and your partner must come with us. He is surely a pervert without comparison. With his brother, he went into our locker room and waited to that indecent part we had no more modesty than yet unaccepted women we are guarding!"

"He must also be the one little girls accused of he offers them cigarettes for services", says Clara.

"No wonder they can´t tell writers apart, miserable wretches", comments Weatherby drily.

"Edward Dodge, come with us for the disciplinary procedure", shrieks Georgianna.

He steps behind her. The lady proclaims: "Oh, no! Oh, no!“ in a machine-like fashion. She must be on it.

"Where is your brother, horrid stain?"

"He is with his girlfriends on the left side, mistress!"

Christian did Utah dating... Princeps agrees, so let the old norms be damned.

He is in the middle of them, makes a pirouette with one, takes the hand of the other. Looks younger than Edward and softer overall.

We do our stunt. Christian is claiming innocence until I take him by the ear and Michelle does the same with Edward. We can't afford the slow stumbling, most guests don't know about the number. It would be even more awkward if somebody saw us between the buildings. Once we get "the delinquents" on the fresh air, we pull them only by collars of their shirts for the shortest route to the dungeons. Georgianna chooses the part full of autopsy tables and coffins. She commands heirs to lay down in their underwear and considering her tone, nobody would ever want the order to be repeated. Edward and Christian show us how they look in boxers and I am accepting the uniforms. Michelle is puffing like I don´t remember her from the ball. Hi, hi, hi... The amount of guys isn´t the decisive quality. Georgianna borrows the coat from the natural sciences teacher.

"My name is Georgianna McLeaf. Tonight I´m going to be Ms. Judge, before that, however, I must become Ms. Doctor."

She lifts the arm and moves the fingers individually. Aggressively she grabs Christian´s body inside the boxers. She accompanies the clutching, pressuring, and stretching with a frightening face and the lying man is avoiding her gaze. He starts to exhaling deeply when the front of his boxers is supported by something else than Georgianna´s hand. Edward has arrived at the same state just by watching it. Georgianna thrusts the hand into the pant leg and diminishes the effect by some strangling of his balls...

"These are healthy young men, so they can be tried."

She returns the lab coat and makes the duo stand. Clothes stay on the bed. Under the new instructions, the boys are brought to the external Holy Submission installation. Georgianna pushes something on the ground and the fire in the middle of the stone circle lights up. I see some... Set pieces of the African village of about twelve huts. Edward and Christian kneel before the Georgianna, who is watching the fire.

"How do you plea, defendants?"

"Guilty", says Edward. Innocent", insists Christian.

Somebody needs a longer trial.

"Will anyone serve as this person´s advocate?"

Weatherby tries to raise a hand, but recedes, to Vicky´s amusement.

"Give out your testimonies!"

The three fake witnesses say what they presented during the fake arrest. Edward "snitches out" his brother too.

"Both of these insidious lechers are found guilty. Their sentence is The Justice of the Amazons!"

She goes to the biggest hut and returns with medium-sized ropes. She bounds one brother´s hands and she uses the opposite end to immobilize the other pair of legs. Lovingly instructs Edward to do a few circles around a fireplace, pulling the Christian through the grass. Common whimpering makes them annoying and refreshing at the same time.

Georgianna stops them and puts them and puts the second rope to use. She ties up Edward´s cock and does a loop around Christian´s neck on the other side. The brothers can take a rest, but it ends soon and round two forces Christian to hold his head over the ground unless he plans Edward to taste agony. Every lady here smirks whenever it happens.

The delinquents are waiting for the third part of the sentence completely bound, each on one side of the fireplace. Georgianna, me, and Michelle change in the hut taking straw skirts, leather tops, spears, and spotting the mouths with bloody red color. Different dance tradition turns me on. We are jumping around the fire and the guys like kangaroos on acid, clashing the spears and pushing the blunt ends right up captured anuses, always only for the moment. As when the pointy ends pierce tiny random skin-covered place.

The treated Dodge brothers are sleeping in "the morgue" next to the clothes and their dance partners must have gone through dozens, if not tens of handsome suitors. Tonight´s privy party would shit themselves laughing if the masochism cost Christian either of his girlfriends. The family fortune badly spent. Upon the return I saw the myriad of guests, some of them possibly could have come later. The savage girl opened me to the party spirit and I dig what the people are sharing. Higher Brotherhood people are heavy with problems they can´t solve now, so they talk about the future, not about the present. Please, Cao and Neumann. I must be wary when kicking Thompson and you are reading space crap. Can´t you deal in the raunchier stuff?

"Thankfully, you haven´t gone off on us." Neumann is unprecedentedly serious. "Now about the poor girl on the infirmary..."
 
Chapter 3, Part 1 (1)

Therese

I am now a concubine.

The destiny I sense not only when I romp around in bed and as a reward I can snuggle behind Vincent´s arm, becoming another of his cushions. In the days after arrival I live as a blank slate accessory he is guiding and showing new corners of the Tower, sometimes... Sometimes are these too beautiful to exist in a jail, where they tell you the worst kind of women is the best. I can´t have enough of a male company when we are reading with them about trees on the signboards in the park. I infect Vincent with emotion produced by the squirrel mother with her young one riding on her. His mandate on the walk is enumerating his personal trouble and I am suggesting fervent lamentations along with thoughts on solutions.

They rearrange my soul to his image on the cultural trips, small exhibitions of his taste in art, and short excerpts from movies or TV shows he watches. The key is not liking it, but agreeing with him convincingly. Premises of the mini gallery wouldn´t be out of place in the Louvre.

Other parts are ugly as sin.

Cane manufacturing is honest handiwork and it is employing the mind and the body. The paralyzing effect makes the mockery of that once it is over and the humble bees leave the workshop with the flawless stings. We were kneeling in the gymnasium naked, presenting the canes in our open palms. Many wardens tested the newly acquired option right away. When the group was doing push-ups, my bottom was one of those they hit and it was like if a knife slashed my skin. For the love of God, people are doing this to children?!

When we are crammed into a dungeon, the gilt is gone, this is the kingdom of sincere amorality. Before the first mass underground session, we were chanting names of our masters silently, eyes closed, limbs stagnant in the seat promising the worship of anyone, who is not wearing the strap harness. It is pagan and moronic.

Nowadays, we are ordered to sleep in dungeons from time to time. In the cage, I pray every conscious moment. It should be the first thing on my mind after waking up. One morning they foiled my usual inner consolidation by opening the cages downside and throwing us into the cold water.

I didn´t found out, who had such an excellent idea, but I will never forget the master who didn´t let me crawl back to the cage the other day. The classical fellatio is discouraged here because it gives us the means to attack. He fixed me to the wall and I was licking his long stake of flesh, my teeth secured by the mouth spreader. After the cum he said I was so natural that I will sleep that way too. Try to recite of Our Father bound, your mouth forcibly open, the aftertaste of semen impossible to get rid of.

Beyond beauty and ugliness is our room. The best features of the transitionary station are my new friends. We don´t have to talk, seeing the other faces means entering the home.

The lunch couldn´t come soon enough, stomachs of our little nation were rumbling in unison. The heads were full. Courtesy of wardens, who brought a package at an earlier time. We opened it and scattered the five contraptions.

"Chastity belts," Jenine stated the obvious.

"The word "chastity is an antithesis of this alma pater", objected Stacey. “Just like the concept of protection. Should we wear them when gone eating?"

"Yep." Zita was reading the attached letter. "Mayson commands us to lock our holes for every lesson except the Lovemaking. Swiss company Gessler Enterprises hopes we stay safe."

Barbara goes by the finger through the slit. "Weren´t these for the wives of paranoid crusaders?"

"They had several functions", corrected her Zita. "One of them was exactly this. Prevention of rape. Good helpers of the Victoriana maids."

She said the last sentence with unapologetic disgust. Practically like Jenine sounds all the time and these two could serve each other as a reflection. The same resent in the eyes and the curled lower lip. Senator returned to the neutral mood after inspecting the belt. "Good. No logos. The first thing they´ll put on me I can identify with."

As for me, I don´t know, if I am grateful they considered the danger. When we are waiting here, we play rummy regularly, but the game is a cover-up for showing a thumb and a forefinger. Stacey taught me and Jenine solid Morse code. Zita and Barbara were slower in this regard. I understand the plan and its shortcomings.

I´ve got an offer for being PE co-lector, signalized Stacey. Pity I would die of self-loathing and it would not guarantee me free access to the gym and I need no less. Also, there might still be cameras.

Signalizing made my shedding slow. Too afraid they will find it. Act! Idea. Maintenance shift!

Jenine facepalmed with the fan of cards.

How? Homemaking will never care of edurooms. Find Felicia´s double to succeed.

Stacey is thinking the hardest out of us. She dislikes her Lovemaking less than Jenine, but more than I do. The guy is apparently restless and a control freak. Her Homemaking kites are lately more on a personal side, giving her solution to raised points is the definitive way to cheer up her spirit. Long-term intentions notwithstanding.

A hand pushed me.

"Will you chat with me before sleep?"

"Of course, Barbara."

Like every third night. There I am useful. The individual repeating therapy.

I have won many times as I was not stalling the game throughout. It had befallen me that I put the chastity belt on me after our youngest ones. The keys were submitted to the original package, secured under Jenine´s bed as could be attested by the female wardens, who ordered Homemaking dresses and our departure.

For the lunch, we feasted on spaghetti. Light pasta food, the source of energy for banal tasks. Inmates got used to the enforced routine. There are facilities, where breaking the stereotype can cause a catastrophe.

The anomalies are bound to happen and the topical one surprised many. A young woman with a blue sweater, horn-rimmed glasses, and ghastly white hair zigzagged over half of the dining hall. She stopped maybe a meter from us, glancing at Jenine and Stacey. My second guess was she has urgent dealings with Zita or Barbara. Ultimately...

"Are you Therese Kelly?"

Unprepared, I confirmed.

"My name´s Sylvia Brunkow. Co-lector for regular education. Councilor of underages Rosenstein said you have a religious background."

"She did not lie. True Christian, practicing Catholic, growing up to be nun..."

"Fabulous! So close to the Muslim!"

"Wait, what?"

"You are relieved of your lesson! Please, go and help us. Everything will be explained by my wife Roberta."
 
3-1-2

I am emptying the dish of remaining spaghetti, conversing. Irrationally, I am reassuring myself about the chilling thing guarding my genitalia. No, this Roberta is the last person here who should be feared. I met so many people with such an authoritative tone and she isn´t even that demanding, but whenever she talks, her plump cheeks bumping from the wave of sharp comments masked as explanations.

"Bosses threw me and Sylvia to a thematic room. We are living with two bi-girls. Lolle, the tennis player, and Gina, the lawyer. In its limitless wisdom Tower decided our company would have an improving effect on one Muslim girl - Basma."

Good Lord, do they know something about the human soul?

Ms., Mrs... Brunkow.." How to remember she is married? "The shock for someone brought up traditionally..."

"She tried to kill herself. On the second day no less. On the arrival, she cried over her hijab more than the opening of her trousers. Yes, you should have seen that face, when she, only two steps from being butt-naked, got a memo what we four like and she doesn´t. Jumped under the blanket, didn´t leave voluntarily for a gym, and ... Threw up on the school uniform. Earned the night in SHU."

"What kind of suicide..."

"On Friday she drank some cleaning products on the Homemaking."

Roberta rummaged through her dark hair, so unlike Sylvia´s.

"She was released from infirmary a few days after, most courses postponed indefinitely for her. She was allowed to wear a Homemaking outfit in the room under the condition of longer laundry duties. Others have Holy submission or school lessons, she sits mute in Rosenstein´s office.

"A big concessions. Why they didn´t move her to another room as well?"

"Ms. Kelly, these solutions, every single one of them, are to be called off the second she submits. They will never demand less of her, she must comply. As a matter of fact, they are giving Spanish flies to her food and Lolle is trying to wake up her inner bisexual. As a result, she is paddling the pink canoe. Doesn´t change she is trembling and can´t decide if Allah is sending her to hell, because she lives with faggots, or because they are taking away the modesty from her."

She is running on the ice, which cracked under me in the instant.

"Have you lost your faith, Ms. Kelly?"

"Not at all."

"Make no mistake. To me, that is like saying you still believe in the lucky charm of a four-leaf clover. However, if you have God inside your head and still obey, tell her how the change is done."

What has changed? Have I changed? What am I going to preach, when I meet Basma?

"Someone was hurt. All I need to hear. I will look for the right words."

"I have sent your understanding and agreement to our place by Sylvia. Go, you ruminate. These are shoestring pieces, not spaghetti."

She grabbed my arm. All I could do was letting her report to wardens and go to the ... To the LGBTQM room.

"Ms. Kelly, I know people of your worldview don´t like to live in a real-world... At most, it should be your thing and not further indoctrination. If Basma starts to doubt, it would be good for her and us queers."

I was starting to lose respect for her.

"If you don´t believe in God, then you don´t think you are God´s child and you have no goal."

Roberta averted her eyes.

"Creativity in delusions, that´s what you are talking about."

In the room, we are reunited with Sylvia in her civilian underwear of green and white stripes.

"Ms. Rosenstein has come."

Councilor Rosenstein was sitting on a bed where a smaller lying person covered herself in a blanket tightly, using it as a sleeping bag.

"I must be listening to your talk, Ms. Kelly, as you have not gone through screening. God knows my methods, my approach does not cover every kind of person, I´m staying also for untested perspective."

She took the chin of the girl, who looked in my direction of her own will. Oval face, olive skin that was now so commonplace everywhere, suspicious eyes.

"Meet Basma Al-Yahya."

I told her my name, confident as a lame ropewalker adept.

Basma grumbled. "Clara, I want them gone."

"Brunkows are free to go weave."

I was waiting for Roberta and Sylvia´s steps to fell silent. I touched Basma´s blanket, Rosenstein got out of my way. I have uncovered the layer of the Homemaking skirt, formed here into a little triangle by the left knee.

"Basma, I was told you´ve done something desperate. God wants us to have a long life and the displeasure we encounter is easier if we recognize him as our guide."

Basma had brighter eyes, pointed at me. Her lips were rolling around.

"He wants us to live by his commands. And the commands here? I have given up clothes to show my body to the twisted beasts!"

Good thing Rosenstein doesn´t comment on her opinion of roommates.

"I am to parading myself next to men and in the second half... I can´t live!"

OK, the core of the issue leads inevitably to suicide. Let´s remind her, how she lived.

"Basma, you´ve been brought here from your parents?"

Rosenstein went to the restroom, she must have known the personal data to come.

"Mom´s dead. I and father have barely been outside The Windy City."

My knowledge of the metropolitan nicknames was limited to "The Big Apple" as the thing I would recognize right away. Bells eventually ringed.

"Chicago?"

"Yes. We have a diverse community there. Omanis, Jordanians, Palestinians. Many of our girls weren´t arrested."

"Why do you think they picked you?"

"Normal schools get points for lists of the bad eggs. I was skipping it and when I didn´t, all I could think of were more shenanigans done to sex freaks, sodomists, and kids, whose parents I haven´t checked out. Maybe God punished me for some of it."

"I would never call his decisions "punishments". Can you repent and be humbler?"

And be a coward? Self-proclaimed whore like me?

Why did I forgive myself?

"You are being taught how to be useful. That is one direction clearly shown. The other is to remember that rudeness caused part of the trouble. Be always polite to your neighbors like you would be to your faith..."

"Funny. My repentance goes hand in hand with the Tower."

Returning Rosenstein coughed behind me. Warning. Not sure to whom.

"Your roommates are ... are… They will be reeducated in the same manner as you. Think!"

She unwound and I finally did mention nunnery to her. Basma´s reaction "You didn´t want a husband?" gave me a chance for a fake laughing. She meant it when she said she looks forward to the next meeting. Rosenstein didn´t accompany me all the way, she instructed me behind the corner.

"Enjoy the program tomorrow, be back on Sunday. Concentrate on Submission and Lovemaking. Mayson expects more than tolerating lesbos."

Oh, bother. I´ve caught a swallow and she demands summer. Nevertheless, I´ll keep a happy moment to bookmark. Fresh air in the soul. Painkiller for another two hours of "Vincenting".
 
3-1-3

The world is old. So much it makes me feel nauseous. It is also a safe bet heaven and earth will grow much older before Judgement Day. Yet people have a short lifetime and they organize themselves with deadlines, no matter how pointless ones. Twenty-four hours of Saturday and I might stay awake all day, won´t make me come up with a lie for Basma. I wasn´t strong, okay? I wasn´t strong and she crashed. Convincing of Basma has awakened my decision-making, desensitized by Vincent´s will. I doubt he´ll not get everything he desires and if the conversation threatens to be too witty, he´ll shut me up.

I´m served to him on a bench in the foyer, clothed in the semitransparent green dress, nothing underneath, zippers on some places, delights for the groping hand. I am not looking around, I grant the rascal the moment of surprise, grabbing me on my temples, unzipping on the small of my back.

He came from behind, today a few kind taps of his palm. Could it be? Thanking me I am here, as zero choices I had? The arm encircled my neck, its hand offering me a bouquet of daffodil.

"Ther, they are for you, but if you care about them, you´ll hold them as a tail!"

That was the new usage for the rear zipper, he undid it for a bit and in a moment, the stalks tickled me on a bottom.

"In the second they fall out you´re for gardening detention and no more gifts from me."

A romantic idea, lecherous execution. Heirs like to have their cake and eat it. Bend forward, I went up with him into the penthouse of two floors. Guests had suits, inmates... That depended. I was among the dressed half, leaving a plethora of women to bikini, pearl costumes, some jewelry, or nothing.

"What are we doing here? Are we going to get some new schedule?"

"No, Ther. We are going to tuning the picture of how do you talk to men and each other in public."

He took the glass of red wine and gave me the white.

"Can we couple with you, Walter?"

Vincent asked the tall, broad-shouldered man, older than most of the guys here, near the ledge. His partner was the young black lady, topless waist protected by the blue shorts.

"You know I hate you, rat!“, said Walter.

The sarcasm wasn´t there to indicate the opposite, more like Vincent can come despite the hatred. I could tell. The walk to them was made longer by my daffodils, but Vincent slowed down for me.

"So, you are disliking me you consider most of us slackers in general. I am asking myself if you being an active executive doesn´t make your moral ground lesser. My father wouldn´t let somebody stand in for himself, while yours is elderly and you are on the vacation."

Walter looked at the black lady.

"What a terrible discord wrecks sometimes relations of gentlemen families."

She smiled. "Younger fighter challenges the older. Being gentle isn´t enough."

She can´t criticize either of them. This gibberish better be one of the Brotherhood slogans.

Walter might not have heard anything at all and addressed Vincent again.

"The resting stands above slacking. Plus, I´m going to scam in about two weeks. Will you miss me, Nina?"

The black companion evinces apathy as the better part of the occupants.

"Thinking about you will make me smile every time."

Vincent´s pleasure in responding was genuine and unadulterated.

"I´m out of here in nine days. Cousin Mickey is, inheriting the room and the responsibilities."

No, he wasn´t checking my reaction, Walter was the inquisitive one. Vincent shifted his head in Nina´s direction. They crisscrossed.

How did I react?

My left leg did a step back, I looked down on my feet and back up on the faces. He spoke about handing me over. On the initial "meeting". And yesterday morning I would quiver and that would be it.

"Are you going to think about us two, Ther?"

His gaze still turned away, he caught me off guard.

"I will see you in Mickey and be generous all the same…"

Vincent nudged me in the stomach.

"You are nice to Mickey by surpassing me. Incorrect solution."

"Uninspired vocabulary is one of her Achilles heels", said Nina. “Girl, you must always come from the present, when contrasting."

"Ms., were you writing dictionaries?"

I did not use a sardonic tone. The next nudge unkindly explained how it would have been misinterpreted. Some daffodils fell off.

"Everything I told will be done to you, Ther. You have also earned corner time after Lovemaking!"

"She is your sister, here and in the world! The manners! Something was neglected!", said a deeper female voice. Sister... Bitter reminder... Women are not sisters only to each other, they are siblings to men as well. The one who rebuked me had some Eastern European accent, brunette in the late '30s. Almost scholarly lady... In a cancan costume. Her guy didn´t reach the chest level. She shined with energy, maybe she and Stacey would make friends...

"What is your name?"

"Larissa Lewandowska. Double L, rude girl."

I stood up and collected flowers.

"Larissa, I was neglected only as very little. What are bad people I know because my parents gave me away for adoption. Thank God I wasn´t neglected since! I was polite to every man and woman I met and was trying to love everyone! Maybe I´m not responding like in society when the government hates what I am!"

I went to Larissa and seized the hem of her skirt. My fist missed the ribs, but she had to bend down and I pushed her, minuscule force in my palms, to make her land on the back, overturned skirt, revealing 19th-century underwear. In my deluded rage, I could imagine nothing but get rid of them and put the daffodils to use.

Larissa wasn´t kicking. She laid initially totally still. I spread the legs and the shouting of people dissolved in my brain. Then, in a blur, Larissa took control of her lower half, in an agile move; clutched my neck with the calves, and tossed me on the side. Ouch, I chose the bad foe to clash with. Wardens helped me to stand up.

I chose the wrong people!
 
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3-1-Finale

Chief of security Victoria had the niceness of a vulture. Except scavengers are part of nature and dictators are its deformation. Prostitutes are somewhere in the middle. Agatha is walking around Victoria´s office. Roberta and Sylvia sit on a chair. Rosenstein stands behind us.

"Postponing the punishment?“, asked Victoria. "She hasn´t proved herself to be a role model. attacking the other inmates the deed of asociality. Treacherous words, if repeated, will transfer her into a penal colony."

"We know, what is rotten in her room!", said Rosenstein. "Her student girl roommate panicked during my counseling for no reason. This is all influence of Jenine Thompson."

Agatha, looking from the window, made it harder for me.

"Thompson is average, Kelly is garbage. Slow in Homemaking, unenthusiastic in Submission. Makes a good fucktoy to a guy, who canceled all orders because of the shit she dared to do."

"SHU will be alright. She needs to speak with Basma eventually. I and Ruby would ease the courses for them."

"SHU and starvation would be enough if she just stroked the inmate. Daniel insists on the public breaking wheel."

No, humans can´t feel their healthy, unfractured bones. Words are capable of miracles.

"Infirmary will eat her time, so the procedure will oblige her to stay for the second school year, worsened by the hard labor."

Remembrance of the martyrs challenges the conduct of true believers when the evil demands them to kneel when they see the mistreatment of others, if strange to them people for what it is. That God´s plan is a story and they are the characters. Saint Catherine died on a wheel, I will bear the non-lethal part.

Question is, will I be remembered without the palm frond, shown solely to the other prisoners? Therese Kelly, the loser martyr, healed for the hard labor... Good Lord, why not appeal to that?

"Roberta!" My voice must have sounded like a signal rocket. "How is Basma doing on Homemaking?"

"She is solid...”

Counting on the mercy of Victoria drains my blood, the safety of my fragile "ward" hurries me.

"Basma is useless for you, that is clear by now. I-nobo-nobody told her, but she wants to stay in the Tower as a part of the staff! And I will work, I will repay, what I have done, I beg you, don´t beat me!"

Shame on me I ever aspired to martyrdom. I sniffled, Rosenstein was on the sides ensuring I won´t end on a floor.

"That´ll never do", said Roberta. "She can´t be liberated as such and men wouldn´t pay for untrained one."

Agatha singularly gained a crabby demeanor.

"Bollocks! Virginity fetish is alive and kicking! So many guys for whom that translates to goods unspoiled."

"Daniel won´t allow the precedent", said Victoria. "Speak to him, Brunkow, and make up your mind... Traitor suggested employment, Agatha the sale to the specialist."

The relief they are not reaffirming my literal breaking was insignificant. Roberta pointed out the pros of my idea over the phone coherently. To the superior, not to master. I lost the wording... Pictures loom over the sense of the present. The crowd. Body exposed to cruelty. Warden with a metal rod. The greatest pain here and to date! My teeth are chattering. Rosenstein is alerted. She slammed the door, arm fumbling in her green coat. Anywhere she went, the office is the third friendlier.

She didn´t come back in person. As Roberta was now rather persuading Mayson to not hanging up, the nurse entered and announced I am leaving for the infirmary. Threatened me with injection and I called it my demand.

Sunday morning I am having breakfast in bed, no one disturbs me, I am recovering in the heat of waffles and watching sun reflection on orange hexagon tiles.

Do a photo and tourists will come in dozens. My free and cuffed hand are stuffing me with the last drops of frosting.

The breakfast tray disappeared clean, instantly replaced by bewildered Roberta.

"Ms. Kelly, ready for some news?"

"Any change is bound to be good."

"I and principal solved the Basma case."

Thank Heavens!

"Did you persuaded him about my proposal?"

"More like your proposal opened Mayson to compromise he should have meditated on earlier. Under the agreement, Basma will have Holy Submission practice replaced with the medical course and assistance on this very section, but she will have to do a test from the compulsory literature. Once she´ll be of legal age, we´ll marry her to a pious Muslim fellow. She is going to have her mainstream education reduced, going only to female teacher´s classes and Clara will take care of the Androcentrism subject. She is not going to discuss anything with the other schoolgirls. Exceptions must not be clarified!"

"I´m happy for her! When they sent me here "bonesbroken", she can stop, here, my friend and the guinea pig."

Roberta pursed the lips.

"You´ve had a fortune in misfortune. Arthur Fitzpatrick, the tutor of Larissa Lewandowska, liked your spark and paid to have you in the threesome. Your public punishment mustn´t remove you from him."

"Is there anything in short-term torture we can´t now overcome?"

"Ms. Kelly, your Holy Submission... And your civil services are now to be dictated by the Privileged ones. Agatha herself has desired personal lackey…"

Garbage… Good fucktoy. Her saliva being the second in ceremony…

I am now an underwhore. My whining gets a long sad face out of Jenine. Stacey is pragmatic.

"Crock is a crock, no matter the gender. And if you are looking for exceptions, try to find Claudia Fleischer. BTW, welcome to the fighting club. You´ve caught the catfight urge. Have you seen Basma, since?"

"She came to me that very evening. I had an appointment with Arthur in the park. She doesn´t know the medical stuff, she will use Roberta´s expertise in biology. Cautious gratitude. Promised chloroform if needed.

“Everyone would like that for Lovemaking”, signalized Stacey.” For us, or them."

"I haven´t told you the funny thing about my new bedfellows. Arthur is Methodist, but Larissa is Catholic. We are now having almost as much praying as shagging..."
 
Chapter 3, Part 2 (1)

Zita

Be a foal.

Now be a kitten.

Or perhaps a puppy.

Stepping on the floor of the BDSM playground means to replay times of childhood when we run wild with the revolving door of roles.

Let’s play...

Some of us will never grow out of it. If we are bigger, we just sew larger-sized costumes. In the bedroom, we are the same playful monkeys. We can´t stimulate ourselves by the actual ray guns, functional magic and none of us has superpowers either. They are not necessary. Nerve endings plus fantasy, that will take us away from vanilla Earth to infinity.

I´ve met Anthony at the con. The brawniest audience member in the video games corner, he impressed me with his partial Latino heritage and that he called his father Dr. Robotnik. I´ve told him about my daydreams rich on surrender, on powerlessness, on strange, frequently otherworldly settings. We did not start right away, had dating in nature and the city like most people. We used not signing our hearts A+Z, but A-Z. However, hearts are hearts, so we knew the time is right. I lied to my folks when I said Anthony isn´t alone when I went to his place and the non-video games begun.

I was playing the elite agent in the interrogation room, but instead of Guantanamo Bay methods, Anthony was applying wooden clothespins. Other times I was an ambassador on the alien world and chains were part of the diplomacy. Lying to parents is bad, so the demon blindfolded me and dropped the wax everywhere he could. I´ve been imagining the scenario on the home base - The Postapocalyptica Hardcore.

Before starships of A-Z reached this home base, Anthony went to Monster Truck Show while I was out of town and fed hot dogs to the sexier girl. Elementary, dear Woodroof.

Four relationships of various depth, out of which two times I found a natural dom once more, never went to anything edgier than light bondage.

Perhaps because of being scorned, I wasn´t considering the drill of the full-time sub under the new boyfriend.

Who said the boy must be friendly?

The Art of Holy Submission can´t work as a short lesson, the dungeon should digest you and the guys delivered. We are sleeping in cages, which is fucking awesome! To make matters better, the cages aren´t static. They once pulled me down into a pit with a strong lion roaring, his nutritious meat nowhere, except under the skin of a eighteen-year-old virgin. Not so dumb to think they will feed me to him, I courted the kingly beast.

I whispered: "Come to me, the gorgeous guy. I wish I could be your mate."

Here the animalization of women works for both parties!

"The newspaper is on the shoe cabinet, Zora. I want it within a minute."

Malcolm is using the pet name, the nick of my "latex canine". I ran on all four through the lounge, limbs rub the carpet by the representations of the dog legs, my face is not seen in the mask with the open snout. I was looping between slave girls, some begging with paws to master guests, one or two breathing intermittently out of things one to their breasts. Catching sight of the newspaper made me hungry for fresh events far from our walls and ground. Alas, the date was from Monday of the starting week...We arrived on Wednesday. The copy got old on Tuesday. Dummy newspaper for a dummy dog.

That was the trickiest part, to position the newspaper to hold it tight in the snout. Not that wouldn´t enjoy Malcolm´s retribution, it softens my resilience as well.

Thanks to the newspaper, people get out of my way and I was in smaller danger of being kicked. I´ve put it to Malcolm´s feet in time.

"Woof!"

Putting the insensitive rubber ear, he flattered me.

"The dog face is handier on you, Zora...."

He has to remember the last dog play lesson, us chasing "fully" human slave girls, teeth snapping. I´ve ended up biting Lydia.

"Do a more woofing. I won´t demand anything else. Lady Georgianna will order something exacting."

I never sensed the radiant authority around Georgianna, the halo inherent to Malcolm and Weatherby. The reason for the difference was traumatizing.

Guests grudgingly left the lounge and the doggie parts were collected by the only leading master. Slave girls of all ages were waiting for the Mistress, not on the knees, as they usually greeted Malcolm, but in a neutral lotus seat.

High-heeled shoes, pointy on two places, stayed recognizable on Georgianna, from the stockings up she sported a motley set. The boring office clothes didn´t go very well with the cap of the cleaning ladies... The cap that itself is seldom flattened by the crown.

She lazily lifted her leg in a clear sign, that nevertheless didn´t apply to everybody. The new posture was assumed by women in the corners, faces swollen by the slappings. The reprimanded ones bend backward and spread asscheeks by hands as they could. Georgianna never hesitated, kicking them right in the center. They squeaked, but made longer unpleasant mutterings as Lady rode the vamp of the shoe for them to smell and said: "Lick!"

When the victim didn´t stick out much of a tongue, she just made the mouth open by clenching the nose and she stuffed the shoe whole... In the middle of processing the seventh and final victim, she redirected their attention to all of us.

"I know we have no Homemaking, slaves, but you have been conceived for work and two libraries are in mess. Rejoice, torment will be multiplied for you!"

Let’s become broom and dustpan.
 
3-2-2

I wasn´t simulating loyalty and enjoyment in Holy Submission, it didn´t make an effort to deny Stockholm syndrome.

That´s not to say I´m getting myself off by grafting ... We had to plug our arms and legs into the leather sleeves with holders. In the Holy Submission library, we were issued attachable hooks, basic cleaning instruments, and spidery things for rags and sponges. Forbidden to remove was muzzle with a toilet brush. All the holders must have been put to use. The result hadn´t much in common with the monotony of drudgery. I believed Georgianna was in the temptation to send some random underling for popcorn. Claiming extended legs ridiculed us would be an understatement. Mistress relished comical figures skating at our expanse. I did practice the art of work lying down, enabled by a suitable combination. The easiest part was polishing the toilet bowl. Surprising, how can your head end up there semi-voluntarily.

The task I wished I could be knocked out of? Cleaning picture of Anne, the classic author, from the stepladder. Sleeves laid unbuckled in section unmissed.

As a student girl, I have been visiting The Central Library on regular basis. I didn´t register the dust or litter there and the study conditions remained optimal.

Oh yes, here is the spot where I pushed the bullshit out. As a woman, I have the most precious part of myself hidden in a set of my organs, designed to cultivate life. I am forever defined by the internal, not by the external.

Good start, fortunately, Weatherby didn´t give me a higher than B... The next paper presentations are titled "Gender equality and The Female independence - Dispensing with the myths".

Georgianna pushed us to the table, every millimeter covered by the short columns of thick books.

"Slaves, just like the cleaning ladies, the librarians used their right to transfer their nearest task on you. The four free computers are in a secondary study room... You have the cataloging manual printed there."

In the Roman Empire, actual slaves served in the public libraries. Fetishism continues on the traditions of antiquity.

Items were suggesting the implementation of new courses, oriented mainly on language skills. We have filed French, Danish, and Dutch dictionaries, then textbooks full of exercises. A few brochures about life in the countries of the tongue. Do the math, Zita. We are going to be shipped off across the continents.

Mistress thought it distracts us and ordained submission training to the fours, who completed the job. She put three books on my head and six on each palm. I´m holding them, excruciated by standing on my toes. Julie collapsed under her pile and wasn´t going to leave without long whacking. Riding crop is such an ironic implement of choice when you are told not to move, let alone ride.

Swinging, the experienced dominatrix could be proud of monumentality never achieved by Mary I. Tudor. If she were a master, I would batter the tomes from one of my sides - the compromise. It wouldn´t erase any words in Hoe zeg je to help the girl find a way to the Coffee shop.

I liked a little shopping, not to mention traveling abroad. I have to make up for homebody years, interrupted by some Italian vacations and one excursion tour to Prague, preserving the vain hope we will afford a trip to an unreachable Hawaii one day. Wow, this... The next year´s summer my possibilities are going to be vast. Choices? That was a different tale altogether. The dichotomy in the future of the person, who becomes the subject of the transaction.

A Flash of loathing blinded me when Georgianna lightened me of the loads. I despised her role!

"Empty books racks stand where we started. Line up the new pieces, they have serial numbers, and you are free to sport.

I´m free to imagining groin attacks…"

I´ll be damned and I must salute her. Something was telling me Mistress fantasies are not about hurting twats. While not a Princess, she is one of us. Newly lustful for the infodumps pulsing in my head since I saw Malcolm´s newspaper, I did a negligible job and approached Georgianna. Confused, how to address her after the lesson, I began by: "Lady..."

"Lady McLeaf, girl."

"Lady, McLeaf... Is there an... An influx of European takers?"

"There´s an influx of European citizens, girl. FPA stretches the wings alongside two oceans."

I was playing dumb, I remembered my Geography. I wiped a tear out of the dry eye.

"I know... Nothing! By the time my auction comes to pass, the rich Azerbaijani might participate!"

Xenophobia tingles your emotions enough to bring about a charged moment.

"Lady McLeaf, we are left... To speculate! Secrecy is feeding inmates with uncertainty or false hope. Please, tell me about more important happenings!

Come on, Georgianna, don´t be stupid! Scorn me, but do it unnoticed!

She got the scorning part.

"Girl, do you trust even opening song in the news? I never did. If you think you should know more and gossip, go to hell. If you think I don´t like this job, you´ve hit the nail on the head, but I´ll not put it in danger!"

I smell the poopies, chicken.

"Mercy, I beg you, Lady McLeaf!"

Georgianna narrowed her eyes and exhaled.

"Principal recently affirmed the news are not allowed. Some co-lectors were suggesting stress-reducing entertainment. It would have to be organized by inmates themselves and the content would be examined beforehand. Think about it!"
 
3-2-3

"Jump!"

Zita, who boarded the bus would crawl on the plank over the pool and staggering from vertigo, she would walk backward like a crab.

Me? I have used the legs to pull headlong, synchronized as one of the swimmers in an azure bikini. The impact made so many bubbles, I saw myself in champagne. I got sober to cover the pool´s length fifteen times.

"Don´t disgrace us, slut, you have both legs in order!" such half-serious insults are common, although one suspects if that banter isn´t a way of venting one´s opinion about sleepy co-lector Ekström of thunderous voice when she needed it, seated on the stair.

The first eight pools are like one go to me, during the ninth the simple line is no longer the intelligible direction. The spirit could yoke me again if it had somebody´s voice as a ship pilot. Thankfully, we haven´t been separated physically and Lydia swam to the same edge.

"Darling, how do the bookworms not drown, when their cerebral tissue is so heavy?"

"Science created Apollo 11. So intelligence beats gravity. And do you know this one? Karl Marx dies and they don´t want him in Heaven..."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen! Ekström whistled loudly and we are leaving the pool.

"Half an hour pause", bellowed co-lector.

Lydia followed me to the bench. I shared there the bath towel with Barbara. Her arms were almost normal and her belly was getting flatter every week. Before one History lesson, Julie complimented her on a change and Barbara tried to eat half of my lunch too. She wasn´t happy with how things progressed today either.

"Most teachers are fuckers and think of us as their puppets."

"McLeaf and Ekström are at least not patronizing as those old bats in the kitchen", said Lydia.

"I suppose you wish they were vampires.", I glossed up.

"Nah, I banished them to girl-unaware-of-real-troubles land." She grabbed a towel of her own and pensively was snooping around the more communicative ones.

CLINC!

When drying her black hair, the tallest student girl, giraffe among our peers, several benches on the right, has lost something tiny but valuable for her. She flung herself to the ground, on the spot the sound came from, and got back on her feet in a heartbeat, victoriously smiling above the mystery object regained. Then she walked away to the changing and equipment area.

"She´s odd", I mused. "She never talked to me and that wriggling of hers, unspanked mind you... She has some permanent cannabis in her blood. Terra, isn´t she called?"

"Montserrat Gutiérrez", said Lydia. "Secretive one. Recites poems beautifully and likes sport encyclopediae. One other student girl in her room, Sharona. That´s the extent of my intel."

Never before was Barbara the most intrigued one of us.

"I will go after her... Did she found a way of doing something fishy? Maybe the rascality can be copycatted."

I kept looking back, feeling obligated to my roommate, as Lydia to me. All the while my guts warned me about the conclusions of Barbara´s. We could antagonize Montserrat or increase the unwanted attention. But the girls can blend with the shadows in the pause and judging by the door ajar, we will find the strange girl in the equipment room. Yes, I heard her there saying...

"No, Mr. Hockey, I don´t feel anything to Mr. Swimming, come to me!"

We saw what doorstop was blocking the entrance to fully close. no, this rascality is waaaay too personal.

I kicked the thrown-away chastity belt with the key inside, to one of the half-lit corners. The student girl laid on the portable minigolf installation, crouched legs spread out widely. Pelvis slowly ascending, chest in tremor, hands busy with the curved part of the hockey stick, moving it in a way that ensured that the end, that was made for the hands, rammed into her pussy. She was letting the visitor know darker parts of the penis garage, moaning and talking to it.

"Mr. Hockey, you have a false reputation. OOOOOhhhh..... There is nothing cold about you. Hardness doesn´t prevent you from moving sensitively! Oh yes, your Montserrat is filthy adulteress, she could never have been happy with Mr. Swimming or Mr. Baseball, don´t ever leave her cave in the mountain..."

Her movements and moaning went hectic, she circled the stick clockwise and counter, concluding it in the sigh describable as "Ahuaheeeh" and the feet conjuring the rhythm on the floor. Stick she just untied. It had some wipes on the polluted part. Cleanly girl. Her head turned to the side, mouth open wide, she noticed us.

"Oh, Woodroof and Pignon, aren´t you?"

"And Butcher", said Lydia. "Get everything where it belongs."

"I haven´t broken any rules..."

"Yes, you did, by unlocking your chastity belt."

"Geez, smuggling the key was like David Copperfield mastery."

"Then begin to practice the Alcatraz act", I said.

Montserrat was receiving the belt from Lydia.

"How often do you think about running away? Do you have a well-secured somewhere to hide?"

"I meant from SHU... Montserrat, couldn´t you wait?"

The belt was locked up and the stick was indistinguishable from its kins in the storage.

"I am patient for the girl-on-girl night. Daily sport... Those are well-defined guys, numbered on their backs and the manliness is the firm currency."

Lydia was stunned.

"You have not a grain of shame!"

"It is a swap of favoritism. Girls act like I´m killing their grandmas, boys wish all girls would be like me. I was deflowered cuntly and assly on the fourteenth birthday, partners just as young. It takes some juice to galvanize Montserrat Gutiérrez from labia to tities."

Barbara was making a long face. Do I have to listen to her?

"You are..." I knew the right idiom. "Hot property. How many languages do you speak?"

"English, Spanish, Catalan, a little bit Portuguese."

A mere year older and she would be the privileged one.

"Did Clara like you?"

"She thought I´ll be a prodigy in Lovemaking. I said yes, I am looking forward to the lovers and she began listing, which positions..."

"Yes! Montserrat, I implore you. After the class, go to her and ask, how to work for her, or one of the lectors. As a bit of an asocial, she will easily believe that you are unhappy among your equals, and grooming you for participation is the plan since she learned about your libido. So far so good?"

Montserrat's eyes popped out.

"I suppose, if I don´t do that, the secret of the key in the hair is out."

"No, I don´t like the blackmail. That will happen only if you snitch on us. Don´t be a fink and open your pussytrap undisturbed. In a productive mood, supply the network."

"Munificent! When I will know, where we can discuss?"

"Start of the park road, the Saturday free time from 1 pm., would you come?"

"I can walk, Woodroof. And I can disappoint. Who do you think will make me a spy?"
 
3-2-4

Stacey ferrets around, tweaking leaves of the cherry tree. She masterly feigns fascination with the tiny fruit, ear pricked for automatic door. I and Barbara are waiting for our new friend, no cover-up.
My initiative left Stacey breathless. Well, she didn´t have to talk for the Morse fingering of the neverending Rummy.
"I can mentor her when the time comes. You are resourceful, Mata Hari, the strategist I have overlooked. Horny girl found another blind spot in the security, it would seem. God forbid Rosenstein employed such luck and talented double agent."
My answers are not yet fluent.
"Suffers here, can tell. Little embarrassment, but it´s there."
"I know you, Zita. You talk about spying, but I smell desire for getting closer to power."
I have defended myself and she wasn´t dwelling on it.
Montserrat came eleven minutes late. Slutty school uniform didn´t make her exterior more prude in the slightest.
She wasn´t corpse-pale, she didn´t come across as struck bimbo, she had an undeniable presence of mind. She just forgot to bring over the carefree attitude from the equipment room and greeted us with the middle finger. Barbara twisted the hand in response. I split them up and took them away. Stacey behind trees went to the same place by the detour. Women in school and homemaking uniforms sometimes complained about our impractical procession but stood aside as we needed.
Lydia was cooling off in the shadow of the platan with Julia. I am at loss. Should I talk about how she is appeasing her because of unnecessary guilt?
"Something went wrong", I clarified the cause of the coming quarrel.
"Clara saw through me! At the start, I mean. She asked nicely, whose idea was it, which smarty is looking for a way to eavesdrop on lectors! Then she asked less nicely. Woodroof, I got her only by tantrum, how nobody talks to me. She announced I have a new duty then. If I want to be useful so much, I have two weeks to compose some social project for the community. Thanks a lot!"
I am new to being a troublemaker. So I am not surprised to have been rescued and making trouble for somebody else. Becoming the debtor. Oh yes, visionary debtor!
"Must you do it alone, or can you have a team?"
"She didn´t say."
"Georgianna told me principal wouldn´t be against some entertainment. We can have a hobby and later the prestige. Something funny, cultural, artistic, here is room to purify the frowsty living here."
Montserrat cheered up
"I love art! And not just because it´s done by horny guys full of ideas!"
We have rerouted the discussion as I wished.
"What can we do?", speculated Julie. "Write a magazine?"
I doubted that.
"They permitted it, not caring enough to redirect the resources and not trusting enough to not worry about an encrypted text."
"We have one safe option," said Lydia. "To burrow one of the holocams and record some variety show. Affordable, presentable in the dining hall, and not hard to censor."
My head turned into our studio.
"I agree. I can write the scripts, Lydia too. Julie and Barbara can administer the technical stuff and you, Montserrat, have everything that the good host needs. Expressiveness and regime-friendly background."
"Author of the project is the front face, Woodroof, I have the unequivocal entitlement. You are sponging."
Acidity galore.
"Technical stuff? We are worse than amateurs!", said Barbara.
"Don´t tread on my future scripts!", I said.
"Girl, what´s this bird called?"
That was Stacey´s voice and code.
"I´m coming!"
Stacey was "accidentally" passing by amidst the foremost tree trunks of the alley directed to a fountain-centered crossroad.
"That is titmouse," I answered by the first bird species that wouldn´t sound generic.
"Fuck off from my blouse, titmouse!"
She got real and quiet the second she saw my puffed-out cheeks.
"That floozy is a lost cause. You were grasping at a straw, so it ripped. The idea about the show isn´t bad for her fix, but for us it is counterproductive. Thompson is under the watchful eye, Therese did the insanely stupid thing and I am welcoming everyone, who visits the gym. Our room is high-profile, off the charts, so to speak. If you and Barbara are going to run the enterprise, the radar won´t stop beeping. I will never be a spider on the web."
She is so snotty!
"Stacey, compare your plan with mine... You have stolen from them and the future depends on the contrivance you will go to an unmonitored zone in the time you are supposed to be in the room or in the best-case scenario here. I am going to ask them for their devices to use my talent and kiss their ass and thus acquiring celebrity status, soothing the inmates, and being one of few, who are allowed to have demands. Anyone can see, what is thought-out and what is a longshot."
Contrary to the stereotype, Stacey is a blonde capable of sensible dispute, rational deducing, and the assessment that is most likely to be the correct one. She is also proud, accepting the criticism conditionally.
"How about analyzing the plans from the outcomes? My plan is improbable to carry out? Well, I knew that from the get-go. I stick to my guts because I wanted to hear from one man, who will never lie to me. Your sycophantry will make them give you what they filter beforehand. Bones as a blow-out. I promise I won´t cripple you. I can see this activity as a backup solution while pondering faster, how to conceal my calls. Preferably not after your show starts..."
"Montserrat´s show."
"Serves you right, voyeur. My advice should be directed to you two, I suppose."
"They must authorize it first. I hope Barbara is wrong and we won´t pay for inexperience with cams."
"Why not find a skillful woman there too? Claudia told me one of her roommates, another privileged one, is borrowing cameras several times a week, she then edits video on computers of mainstream ed. section."
That didn´t sound like a run-of-the-mill slut.
"Her name?"
"Alice Kane. Nicole won´t say it in front of Claudia, but she is only of her room our Sky Queen tolerates."
 
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