The Princesses in the Tower, by Miras

[Miras]

4-1-2

The extra gym, I believed, wasn´t nearly so hard to keep under wraps as the exciting game of Rummy. Barbara translated a few opening terms and kissed me on the neck. Therese played three wrong card sets in a row. Zita Hari was plotting.

"We will find the Rear Riders. Marry them! Subordinate them!"

"I want to call my parents," formulated Barbara slowly.

"I have them too!," signalized Zita Hari.

"Jenine has a husband," reminded us Therese. Moment of sadness was unavoidable.

"Jenine would be glad because I talked to Damasio. Her husband can´t help, he can."

"Who will use it next?," asked Zita Hari.

"Right, girls. I will take it simply when I want, but we will take the order based on victories in this game, not counting me. Nicole and Claudia come sooner than the last of us."

I realized we haven´t played the game just for sake of it since Zita Hari separated the deck from the rest of my gift basket. Barbara winning effectively decided my tender. I disposed myself of the cards with the hope Therese will crown the loser status of Zita Hari. My lucky day didn´t disappoint me.

I pierced the walls. Air from estranged corners of the world slathered the wounds!

Would it indeed relieve Jenine?

Thanks to me, we were living it up on Sunday. The mostly obligation-free hours meant the solace that was not ending. The browsing device, now buried in the Art of Holy Submission portfolio, should be borrowed by Barbara in the middle of next week.

Monday, that was going to be a whole new game. On the final course of a day before we were given short, but forceful notifications that all inmates are going to enlist to a Lovemaking training event, student girls included. Seventeen-year-old sissies chirruped like lunatics, at our place and most certainly everywhere.

It is a testament to the callousness of these dicks they waited until morning to add we all are keeping chastity belts.

The mass event was to be played out in the hall which entrance was guarded by the two boxes, huger than the door itself, one of them being titled with "B", the other with "H". We were in the first wave of trainees who exchanged outfits and uniforms for the moth food of B box. Gauzy veils, crappy oriental top, and pants, midriff not covered. I heard some friend of Zita Hari´s statement about "Mirror Universe officers". Huh?

On the parquet we circled our bellies and hips, listening to melodies that could encompass national anthems of the countries from Morrocco to Iran.

The instructors made it clear we are expected to practice while in the room and the next examination will also come abruptly. To not evoke just harem, we let the other party to the hall and the stuff from H box. Grass monstrosity around the waist, colorful bra and flower to the hair to imitate the luscious savages of Hawaii. Now our arms and asses had to partake.

The groups that completed both dancing quickies had to go outside into the grounds for they built some new Homemaking house.

I should say I had the most intense moment on the walk to get there. Today was so sunny, I could see myself back in the summer. This soft rapture went bad as we were shown something that needed no comment. Downhill, nigh the path, was situated row of pillories. The nude inmates with shackled hands and heads, begging for water, could consider themselves lucky if their faces clung to other heads. Some of them were directed to... Orifices.

Besides the damned colony was a quicksand pool, the mound of dirt casting a shadow over it. The five heads jutting out were suspended on the gallows-like construction by the string that led into noses and mouths.

The conspirators were having a rest before the highlight, I felt in my bones.

The group reached a newly built cottage of two floors. The furnishings were touched upon by spokeswoman and natural sciences teacher Lindsey Trevorrow. They familiarized us with butter churns ("You might be sold to traditionalist countryside.").

Above the stairs, tables were prevailing, mightier than those in the dining hall, a lot of space for wardrobes for mortars and pestles. Trevorrow was slobbering thrilled, every syllable devoted to making of perfumes.

Barbara jumped up.

"We have constructed also the genuine spacious amusement you will settle for the best part of the day," the spokeswoman said. "There, you will pass on your chastity belts. Little misses not excluded." She closed her eyes and burst out quietly. "Because of aesthetical reasons. Chop-chop. Lindsay, did you select perfume smeller?"

"Yes, yippie-kay-yay! The lady of mud and ham, miss Stacey Hamilton!"

It wasn´t like you shouldn´t value your senses, but when one´s nostrils haven´t been tested in like forever, she gets the scent of bullshit. Or monkey business, for the sissies.

As I remained on the floor, guarded a little for the sake of spokeswoman and Trevorrow, the former exclaimed: "Truth to be told, I was the one who summoned you. You have ripened, Ms. Hamilton. You have integrated as can be deduced from your recent trade with us."

It is consequential on two fronts.

"We scratched our backs, fellow spokeswoman."

The word "fellow" had a taste of sea urchin.

"I´m fellow Arnolph for you."

Arnolph the cunt wanted me to be more than the backscratcher.

"Don´t interrupt the good work. We are in the middle of the term and we clashed with the vicious uncooperatives. Time to raise the stakes, meaning the inmates assumed to be potential criminals, exposed to more corporal punishment, more hard labor, being given much less free time and the bad marks will be actively set to the right track. The means depend on your participation and the goodwill."

"Do I need... Special guidance?"

"You are at the top of PA and most of all in the Art of Homemaking. But average in the Art of Lovemaking and not properly responsive in the Art of Holy Submission. You have unwisely declined the second co-lector for the PE position by which was now rewarded Ms. Manderville. Why not become another woman who hears and talks?"

Another? Who is the Miss Shitty McRatty? Ekström the Runner? Manderville the bi-freak?

Arnolph cunt wasn´t pressing me for an answer.

"Nobody expects the approaching Retribution breakfast. Everyone will see traitors punished before we´ll send them away and those cute loyal Loyal student girls will start their show."

The idea is forming.

"How will they be punished?"

Arnolph cunt rubbed her hands.

"It will happen on separate locations, but they will come into one glass pyramid for the holograms. On the bottom, inmates who were merely conspiring in secret will be eaten by some very nasty ants, on the second place insurgents will get every bone in their body broken. In her private room above all of them, Pepper will be raped by a gorilla. The brilliant intention, to show the upcoming generation of FPA next."

Jenine ridiculed would be an internet sensation no matter the regime. Making this atrocity known, that could compromise the system.

"Quid pro quo," I picked up the threads of myself from earlier. "As I did with Victoria. I promise to study well enough for that."

Arnolph cunt´s smile didn´t wane off, it froze on that face. Twenty points for me, I employed the word "rictus", forced to remember.

"When you´ll grow tired of our gifts, learn to be unselfish."

Unselfish denunciator? Your own train of thought has been robbed and vaporized.

 

[Miras]

4-1-Finale

The masses were pointed towards "the village", mostly untouched Holy Submission installation that seemed larger today. We stripped on the edge and I saw Victoria herself handing out universal keys for the chastity belts to the wardens.

The boxes there were numerous, each neighboring one hut, provisions tailored for the inmates from the first to the last. We were being issued short leather pants and long hoop-like necklaces over our chests. I had a feeling like I just turned on the Discovery Channel, when I saw our Harlem sisters, putting on those pieces.

Geez, I´m not racist. I just know gloves are for hands, glasses do not belong in front of ears and every ethnicity has its history. Besides, are you sure people of different origins won´t be racist towards you first?

The voice of Arnolph cunt was heard from the verges of the road that intersected the village and some reproductor was situated also on branches cambered by wire.

"Dr. Beck and I were contemplating the natural cultures at the dawn of civilization. In these societies, all follow their role without grouching and there is also no prejudice towards nudity, not to mention people are much more in tune with sexuality as a part of daily activities. In FPA we are trying to emulate this casualness, so you must go to the core of your inner primitive.

Collectively, you will wash in hand and you will prepare animals that will be served to men, coming to their homes. Fed, they will use you lovingly, with student girls listening. Sloth will be punished by narrow SHU."

Zita Hari squeezed one or two links on her "hoop".

"I see imprecision in the issue at hand. Modern media have already loosened our shyness, even in the presence of sexual acts. If they think this will make smut more consensual, they are loons."

Smartypants made herself unseen in the droves, newly coordinated to some expanded parts. I drew level with her to reassert vigilance.

"From this day on, if you will harass, I swear to God, I will pour hot oil to the front of your panties."

She reacted confidently.

"Fellow principal supports the basic critical reason of special girls. That alone serves my projected goals as Loyalist."

"Haven´t I showed you my way? Loyalist lags behind."

She got my point and puckered lips denoted search for the poignant answer.

"Your results are limited in scope, Stacey. I must be sedulous in a delicate collective."

There was no going back from our non-lethal shelling. We were deployed to a freshly dug-up trench, hosting a crystal clear river. As Zita Hari soaked some caps from an immense amount of trash clothing, I sneaked on her, shouted boo, and by coincidence pulled jeans on her arms. She wasn´t telling and washed them. When pussies were sweat-moistened by the campsite, she took brushwood and pricked me over exposed tail bone space. When we were skinning rabbits and piglets, I gouged out some eyes, exhibited them on the stone, and made the bleeding heart sit. The Girl War passed off when we were beaten by the superiority of male demanding hosts.

If I ever recognize those sons of bitches, who fingered me, I will slowly amputate their shorter members and I will advance to longer ones from there. That being said today the Heirs weren´t giving off vibes belonging to frat boys or Rohypnol guys. They had pants like us, hold by suspenders that ornamented their nude chests either as X or as H.

The long wooden desks they got their dishes full of roasted meat on were the same as we used for washed clothes. The chairs were for their utilization, we took a perch over the leathered thighs, discouraged from the selection of our everyday shaggers. That meant male hooks couldn´t lower themselves to tearing the food. We carried the bits. When the mouth didn´t open, ours did or that of impatient student girl on the ground.

The blue-eyed office boy David wasn´t hungry, he supplied us with pork. I didn´t see anyone here as "good". Similar to Auschwitz, you can´t keep your hands clean. Or wangs. I thought he is making me amenable for some specialty.

"I have a good friend called Simon," he said. "His thing is golden hair, also full breasts... and the fucking in public. Dozens of guys promised him they will watch. He would like to do it with the lass of your proportions in the stream. We have decided our "tribe" has a tradition that one very masculine man will be coupled with a very beautiful lady and they will have intercourse in the river to assure plenitude of fish, their union confirmed by many witnesses."

"I...exist to submit, I live to love. My mind makes his dream real. That is the purpose of companion, that is the being of a wife. My vow is honest. Thank you for giving me a request, not an order."

Memory and watching television after the takeover now obscured the lingering about the public defamation. David guided me to some of his pals on the bank. He sent for Simon, him having not yet come. I stripped out of village attire and they gave me coconut bra and highly nominal panties, just some shells on threads, really.

"Here he comes. Pretend to escape!"

I started running, dirty feet got little green by frisky hopping in the grass and I gladly dipped them into water. David caught with me when the knees were just an inch above the surface. He prodded my side, so I have seen his coming pal, long-limbed bla... African America... Living ebony wonder with kind eyes and huge amorous cock, sprouting from the sack of balls, furry ones, like his head with the fro. David supported my shoulders and I complied, tilting my pulsating crotch. Guys not busy with a woman of their own were bawling on Simon, oh yeah, they were cheering on him. When my voice made it obvious the rod is in the mouth of piranha, somebody even started drumming.

His onyx member penetrated deeper than any manhood I recognized as worthy of task to satisfy me. In those moments I used to imagine that I´m stealing white, yellow, or red dicks from the male subject, never straying from the path as dictated by Her Majesty.

Shawn wasn´t really about sex. That was some sort of reversed enema. I wanted to cope along with the pain he was causing me.

Simon ride didn´t fall under any of those paths to orgasm. My vagina was now shared. It was purring, but I had to surrender to his control and his pace, not attempting to determine it myself, my sides caressed by his black and fair hands. Behave or else... Silly miss- I-want-to-be-in-charge.

Simon escalated his dominance. He encouraged me to hoop upwards to be entirely supported by him.

I made a sound of puma that must have been in the paws of alpha. Men clapped, Simon pulled himself gently out and he put me over his shoulder. Men in all corners laughed and women shrieked, so every guy must have done the same. Simon opened one of the huts and let me stand inside.

There was a kneeling bench just under the window.

"Kneel, so your breasts and your face are visible to all," Simon said and threw away the coconuts. The poise couldn´t be called as uncomfortable as the view was silly, inhibited by other expressionless women inside huts and student girls biting their lips. Next to my hut stood David, tossing a small club and some tableware item.

Simon stroke my heir lightly. "You better be ready as I say, because you are not giving my cock much of a peace."

"This twat aches until it gets poked." I couldn´t tell how fast would my love pipes produce fluid. Seeing some inmates themselves responding to inserted dick was a turnoff.

"Suddenly troubles with open space?" David asked.

"I am ... I was never doing it… While watching people doing it."

But I know everything about birds and bees, I swear, uncle.

"You can be looking at me in the beginning. I think you must be unblocked in a stimulating fashion. I brought this, so I could tenderize you somewhere."

I thanked him for help and didn´t say no, but I thought he is also a kind of despicable image.

David grabbed my right breast and only with enough necessary force, he clenched part of, above the nipple, between two fingers and hit it with a club. It was annoying, just like examinations. I will never be an idiot finding pleasure in hurting or being hurt. This wasn´t about the pain, I felt a little more alive after contact, I saw more colors around David´s hands in my sight and the whole body of Simon on my mind, pussy was pleading for her natural counterpart. I held out and Simon´s cock made me almost ignore that some ladies in the windows are silently praying or begging the guy behind them to slow down.

David didn´t stop. He underlaid my tits by the flat greasy plate from the table and pressured them by the club, he was rolling them in alternating directions. On both of my ends, I was pulled and mollycoddled. My repertoire of beasts and cattle broadened. I was booing, baaing, and bleating.

I hoped Zita Hari heard and wished to switch places!

 

[Miras]

Chapter 4, Part 2 (1)

Barbara

Straight-up mania has opened for business in the Lunaticville.

People there let you seriously down. They promise that you will be grinding sweet-scented masterpieces in the perfumery, but give them a few hours, and you are listening to sighs of females and panting for a breath of guys. I watched the moon and stars rise, accepting the fact that I look forward to class like some loser, as we have started today. In another bizarre inspection of not misused exercise books to which we could write by fastened pen only.

The mature ones were catching up on sleep from the boning and we had double lessons of Androcentrism and History/Geography. Suspension of disbelief was tested by the teacher´s very words.

"Initiating an androcentric version of female´s rights must respond to the individual personality match," Weatherby said. "Each woman will be paired with a man, who can guide her, who will be not disturbed by her character and who will be able to assess her qualification to work or to orchestrate complicated events."

Maybe three girls in the class took a note about that.

"It is a fact that liberal benevolence in giving rights to women brought unreasonable factors into play. Their universal voting participation meant a bigger danger of superstitious religious element in politics, also electorate influenced by the impulsive childish whims and arrival of leaders with narrowly applicable intelligence.

FPA woman is barred from becoming Princeps, she can´t rule one of his countries as prefect. The seats in the Governing and Advisory councils are also off-limits to her. However, the smartest of you can attain membership of House of Experts, our body of Technocracy."

The last chance for Julie or Montserrat is done for then.

Amber Bernstein raised her hand high.

"So, If I´m an extraordinarily good physicist, chemist, or whatever, I can stand higher than any member of male-only House of Deputies?"

Weatherby touched Amber´s shoulder by the ruler.

"Any members of the House of Experts will know all the nuances of decorum. I know you girls are used to be impudent towards boys and waking up their sexuality only to deny them. That time is over. You... You all have one week to compose an apology to males you were treated badly to be read at loud. On Friday I expect your presentations about works of gentlemen Aubrey Andelin and David Deida, taking into account the female experience of Laura Doyle."

He drew a DVD with pink and red stripes out of his table.

"Decorum is one of many subjects dissected by this new series for girls. Principal Mayson gave me permission to get you

in touch with your culture and we have plenty of time today."

DVD vanished in the viewscreen. Images of the show´s opening along with the dramatic music made me unsure if I´m going to watch present-set soap or a period piece.

Excerpts of the scene formed the tornado shape, sucked in the ear of the girl with ash-colored hair and the name of the series took the center.

THE SURPRISING JOURNAL OF NORA ALBERT

I think there wasn´t a single pupil inattentive to offered telly, regardless of the genre. Weatherby was making sure nobody casts eyes down, but the eagerness of his charges rendered him peripheral.

I would be watching cartoons about mosquitos stealing blood bottles from fleas, so I have let the series zoom in on the streets of the Town of Cliffordshore in Northern England, home of the Albert family. The clan´s youngest offsprings are handsome sons Thomas and William and batty Nora, praying in the knot of Cliffordshore girls. She resents commitment, teases the boys, always uses contraception, and plans to travel through the Maghreb. I knew her life and goals will be showed in a bad light, but I can´t wrap my head around it.

Thomas and William resign to their jobs in the steel plant because they want to join the Territorial Army, recruiting in the anticipation of a barbaric Scottish invasion. Nora mocks them, so what would anyone say that will happen?

Seeing the town almost razed was cool, the show has some budget...

Nora tries to rescue her mother, hauled away by the Scottish soldiers, only to be caught and shot in the leg. End of episode 1.

The beginning of another notional journal (you should be writing it finally, girl) doesn´t betray the cliffhanger, but outdoes it, as Nora´s injury looks more gruesome than before and blood destroys her trousers. I have met so many assholes whose Aunt Flo jokes I was hearing...

So, Nora´s dad rescues his daughter and takes her to the FPA military base. Doctors treat her wounds, but she is in a deep shock. While her dad and Thomas are rescuing her mom and other "Cliffordshorers", Nora is partially recovered by hippotherapy, bonding with horses employed by the undersupplied soldiers. In the place where all boys from 8 to 70 were mobilized, Nora and the returned mom are ordering other women around to cook and doing softer manual labor. Nora is drawing up all the stockpiles and she is stunned how much she likes the mere scribbling, leading to making entries in the journal. One night she hears a noise in the weapons. There she founds the former councilwoman of Cliffordshore in the camouflage suit, two riffles crossed on her back. Eyeing Nora, she takes up

huge knife from her boot...

Episode 2 ends.

The councilwoman starred in one scene before the cliffhanger and now she is villainess because of course, she is. Nora can never be half the cinematic magnet her assaulter has reached to be in over a minute. Fellow lector or teacher, eat the DVD and shit diarrhea out.

 

[Miras]

4-2-2

"You will be not diverting me today, my overgrown lice," Weatherby said, intoxicated on the fangirl class.

"Renaissance wasn´t the only epoch that began by the excavation of distant eons, glorious, wise or preserving ancient creatures in stone. From the bones of dinosaurs and the cave paintings to the book of Charles Darwin, the culture of the 19th and early 20th centuries was about the reinterpretation of Earth as it bore life and humanity. Virtual reality gear will situate you to these transitions."

Oh, my gosh, they are "modernizing". In the sense, they agree that progress means one should not listen to a concert or guzzle in front of the TV, but garnish yourself into the diving suite and having to move for the fun.

The class was driven to the basement. As per usual, slowpokes caught a few strap-strokes. The new dark room had cubicles with metal balustrade, delimiting medium square of floor to pulling thick jumpsuit on and locking the goggles up. The rubbish loaded the signal and my feet were throbbed by the virtual Peebles. I haven´t seen around, but when I bend down, some stick smeared brown-and-red shone. In my hand, it floodlighted a stony wall, where a giant buffalo picture was flicking. The first historical part was an active one and I started to draw that animal according to the model.

The world is opening for us picture by picture, tone by tone. For me, it will include the voices of mom and dad.

"I'm going to the gym tomorrow evening, right?", I blurted out in the evening as we, covertly stimulated ones, were settling down.

Zita took a breather on a bed and nude Therese kindly shed her strap harness.

"That waiting list has been passed, Barbara. Tell Dorothy or Michelle that you want and don´t be a crybaby."

"You both had a rough day, didn´t you?" Therese asked.

The one who made this thing possible couldn´t share her two cents. The missing link was showering meticulously, not being over yesterday´s tirade.

"Simon said that breasts deserve a touch of the manhood itself," I remember that Stacey commented, scrubbing sperm off her chest.

"My parents never saw me working out. They will be there in spirit and I will reassure them how much I changed."

True and the furthest from disclosure.

"I´m sure as hell they don´t watch Nora Albert," Zita said in an untrustworthy monotone. "You can add how your life will about supporting others."

"Foundations of every service," retorted Therese, confused at the moment. "Barbara, come to me, share the troubles."

I laid beside her, nude as well. I got lively, this was like with mom, whenever it occurred.

She covered us, interweaved our fingers, and on the bright spot, she signalized.

„Please, call two more people...“

The promise I gave her spooked me, it drilled a Tunnel of Terrors in my skull, because that was all I could think about when the heavy glove on my cheek woke me up in the night. Therese left the sleep second, pushed aside by the warden ending our hug. My throat dried out. What if they are taking me to the same unknown hell where Jenine is?

"She´ll be back before morning," the warden whispered. "Get your underwear and belt, girl."

"Is there more of them?" asked a voice from behind a stripe of light a the door.

"One with an acceptable amount of points."

I got up, took my bra, then that chastity belt these morons didn´t want to be imprinted on the leather, and finally the panties. It seemed to me I was fast, not frenzied to disturb Zita or Stacey and vitale as you can expect from someone stiffened, holding the poo with all her strength in the guts, but the wardens pulled me in haste all the same. I acclimatized to fierce light and lingering questions. They cared about grades, so they were taking me to the additional test?

I was more perceptive when exited the elevator at the bottom. Choking on the bloody embarrassment when they stopped next to a male officer sitting on a chair I swear I heard cracking.

"Tie her up and break her pride!" the female warden said. The guy let me sit, held my legs, and bind them in six ropes. Weeks of BDSM lessons haven´t made me wet from the prospect of bruising down there or on arms he put behind my back. The guy spurred me on hooping to the door he opened.

In the office, Weatherby was perching on the desk with the shining lamp. He actually helped me to land half of my ass on a bench to other bound girls. I recognized Julie and Sharona. Also Amber and Louisa Polivka, the sad striver.

"Unannounced exercise, brats," the teacher said. "For every correct answer about Androcentrism, I will cut one rope."

The motherfuckers, not the clocks, decide when the day ends.

"Ahhhhh! That's why he was saving himself!"

The picture I have recounted kind of made Zita´s thinking mechanism disjointed. Like that would make us comparable. Slap her. Slap that narcissus bloom. Slept like a log, earned her points. There wasn´t going back for me, Loyalist program be damned!

"Twelve times I had to be "right". Twelve times! For you, I bet, it is a round of Jeopardy, bootlicker´s way into daddy´s wallet. I..."

Therese choked me in her armpit. My eyebrows brushed against the strap harness, as the lessons tied to the last evening.

"Cutie, you can spit all over the plates of all your classmates, who weren´t questioned. Temporary succumbing to self-pity will reap you enemies forever. Or you can be a friend to everyone who did you no harm and some of them will like you in return."

We have a deal. She is not quoting Gospels and I won´t bewail my Cosmopolitan collection and barbeque Sundays. She came up with reduced preaching and I would be lying through my teeth if I told her she hasn't a point in most cases. Perhaps her very voice placates me.

"Let people see gifts in your hands. Fists can always come later," Stacey said and trolled Zita, cause she was facing her when the hand adopted the "later" phase. Zita had her own wisdom to share.

"And if you are neither smart nor hot, you simply must be nice to people."

Therese utilized the other armpit.

"No, being nice is the prerequisite for being a proper human. You should eat to think straight."

 

[Miras]

4-2-3

Desolated breakfast tables would hardly bring us closed to rationality. The dining hall didn´t serve even the smallest teaspoon to hint we will be fed. Space was enriched by the devices of dubious refreshment value. Several holoprojectors in the cubical form. It displayed the face of a spokeswoman who set forth what are we going to see. ...

Therese did the sign of the cross.

"Holy macaroni," escaped Zita.

"They weren´t all talk," Stacey whispered.

I couldn´t speak for them in that regard, but I wasn´t willing today in breakfast, lunch, or dinner. We were watching rasping and screeching in the boxes of soil, overdesigned terrariums for ants. Fewer offenders were beaten worse than unluckiest murderers, their invisible bones shattered, members dislodged.

Immobilized Pepper went ape the second drugged gorilla touched her, pulling the former criminal to the ocean of madness. Yeah, she was a pimp, who was enslaving and hurting people, but overdosing the convict with her own medicine can be an excuse that powerful ones thrive in the same stuff as thugs...

I tried to focus on the bottom floor, which gave me no good when the pyramid was replaced by the enlarged segment.

The kitchen shrews came loaded down with full strays the same second sentences dispersed in the Tower coat of arms. My old self not resigning, I coveted nuts in honey, a nice thing as compensation for the repugnant morning. What do you know? They had one brutality in reserve.

"The new date in the calendar bids you welcome, royal students!"

The holographic head of Montserrat was thrashing about and the record´s definition was all over the place.

"Believe in the reform and your adaptability will rise! Easier said than done? See, once after the swimming, I felt so much alive, but I registered many of you were doing it just out of obligation. There I said to myself that we should be revitalized by other means to move on. I and four of my friends have created amusing stories exactly for that. I present to you The Shieldmaidens Raid!"

If you are a nitpicker, you will note that only the characters of me and Lydia are holding any shields in this poorly named fantasy kitsch. Still, I was glad that unlike in Nora Albert, we girls are proactive, using wits and fighting skills to counter the mystical forces of Werewolf Queen. A handful of inmates weren´t watching holoprojectors, avoiding them since the preceding video ended. Predictably, at every table there were women, who took a look and grinned, feeling smart for hating it. That didn´t dishearten me. Misanthropes were neighbored by one or two who liked to watch, eating without bending their necks. I didn´t know about Zita, but at the moment I was certain one person was happy, I marked it as a mission accomplished.

BDSM was to be theoretical today. Us in the classroom, legalages in the lecture hall. In the divided party, I almost rammed into wandering Lydia.

"Sorry, are you unwell?"

"I want to put myself in the shoes of my character. Why do you think she killed all those dwarves?"

Is she mental?

"Lydia, do you know that "Butcher of dwarves' refers to..."

"I know my surname! But there is a backstory to be uncovered!

She is losing it. Thank God I´ll have my medicine in the gym.

"Don´t chain yourselves, slaves," Malcolm insisted."I and Lady Georgianna have been prescribed you a number of titles from unfairly ignored literature. Heroines of these novels went through turmoils that should be in line with your social, erotical, and spiritual odysseys. Choose one to your liking and I´ll call you, I will expect to hear detailed biographies as you will impersonate them and I can supple the man in the story for... Reenactment."

He seized the thick paddle from the table, could be the product of our work.

I made my choice, inwardly.

"My name is Rachel Tymoshenko and I met my dom when...."

Louisa did a stun that nonverbally ushered retelling of Artiste and Tamer. for Coco Chanel´s sake, is she proving to herself bondage didn´t hamstring her? She overacted during the sex scenes, ventilating the fake orgasm for a few minutes. She has perfected one necessary skill for a long-lasting marriage. Malcolm was humming to himself and I could most definitely discern the progressive nuance of Luisa´s groans. She fell silent at the sight of the warden disrupting the class. "I´ve come for those breakfast shieldmaiden... For the actresses"

The screwball side of me was screaming that she desires our autographs.

"Principal wishes to train them in above-standard services."

Zita and Montserrat went stone-faced, Lydia hasn´t found herself in the fog of speculations yet. I was prodding Julie who didn´t need lipstick. Chapped lips were red with blood after the biting.

Mayson and the spokeswoman weren´t in the office but in the foyer between two closed entrances. I recalled Zita´s story of the visit.

Loyalists!," the spokeswoman said. "Close fellowship assembly this Sunday will process not one, but two let´s say external matters. From today to Friday you are going to substitute your reeducation with attending to our paperwork and readiness."

"Consider it Secretary course," Mayson said mockingly. "And for that event, we have entrusted the nano-tailor with creating fetching outfits."

The spokeswoman collected the packs one could mistake for simple cushions. We shed the little we wore, no hint of resistance by this point. This new blouse and pencil skirt had almost proportions of school uniform, cleavage not omitted.

"You will get the work intuitively, loyalists," Mayson said. "My normal secretary Josh should supervise and notify you of mix-ups."

"A male?," I asked.

"Yes, Ms. Pignon. I never copulate in the working hours."

He slapped Zita´s ass.

 

[Miras]

4-2-4

"Serve well and you can join us on Saturday´s reception for the privileged ones."

The object of his interest wasn´t attaching importance to the reward.

"Fellow principal, what matters demand our service?"Zita inquired meekly.

"One of those, you will touch only indirectly and it is not communicable to anyone but members of close assembly members. The other I can tell you and you are forbidden to share with other inmates. By the end of next week, we will host four representatives of the best masculinity from FPA - students of Paladin institute Horatio. They are gonna review many of the women and they will be mesmerized with sports match worthy of Colosseum."

Subtle grimaces and winking, attesting to boggled mind, conveyed the common opinion.

I know a demented association when I hear one.

Mayson opened his spacious office. The walls were blank, save for a larger-than-life framed photo of a long-haired gentleman gifted with killing cheekbones.

Princeps Juan Gilbert had the best intentions in mind with every man executing the power that sprang from him.

Not, don´t be distracted by sexy. Weatherby failed me. Gilbert perpetrated the original failure.

"Woodroof, Pignon, I have no computers left, but you can connect to the personalized accounts. I have sent you the psychological profiles of the Paladin guys. You will allocate one hundred inmates to each as someone they can prevail over and date them. You will be attached by us. Butcher and Quetting will overwrite the content and the timetable of PE lessons. Gutiérezz, you are the co-author of my speeches I was looking for."

The lad called Patrick seemed to be about our age, irregularly directing his blue eyes at us. We were working from the gymnastic balls on the charts in the air. Future guests were known to us by their rough preferences and initials. JW, JJ, HG, and ER. I sat next to Zita at an angle I felt secure to signalize.

"He told. Know more."

"Not yet!"

"You´re Nora Albert," I teased her. We are false loyalists, that´s our credo, but in practice, she is accomodating, when she should accommodate the environment. I was closely listening to Mayson´s peevish bossing of Montserrat at his spot. They were brushing up two speeches. One was giving warm welcomes. the other was defending every last happening in the Princess Tower. The principal was dictating it in far too much, frustrated with the wasteful prodigy. She is the most pathetic out of us.

Montserrat was cringing. Mayson was rubbing his eyebrows.

"Fellow principal, she could use the descriptive data as we have. She has the right to know, who is listening."

I didn´t believe my words. Terms like "systematic" or "no-nonsense" aren´t solid guides. I was verifying Mayson´s discreetness.

Principal exploded.

"He is nagger from Japan. Suck it up!"

If secrets were money, I would earn my first cent.

"Isn´t Mr. Cao Japanese?"

I held myself back. The taste of lamb calmed me down.

"No, Julie. Cao isn´t a Japanese name."

Zita made some letters using meat pieces. She spent the time otherwise by formulating creativity for Montserrat, meaning Mayson.

Unless we hack

As if I didn´t know. Unless we hack Mayson or Patrick´s computer, the identity of a person unpleasant to the principal is locked away apart of the nationality.

"Shieldmaiden is covering her head for a reason!"

I am so obfuscating.

"Hey, you!," I shouted at the warden. "Pass on my today´s bonus exercise to lieutenant."

I should call myself lucky they believed me I wanted to spare my secretarial outfit. In the wardrobe, I piled it up on the free coat hanger and opened the BDSM portfolio. The browsing device inflated my butt in the school miniskirt.

I was ultra-rapid with the weight, uncharacteristically ravenous for the barbell. My folks' number was burned to my memory, but that wasn´t the reason it wasn´t on the top of the list. Out of gratefulness, I dialed Mother Superior Monica. She answered the call as the device rang for the second time. Not engrossed in anything, crone?

"Your camera´s malfunctioning," the disappointed voice said.

"Mrs. Superior, Therese Kelly sends her regards. You used to call her alpenglow."

She wasn´t responding.

I countered the silence by the rudimentary points - who, where, and a little of how. "Therese is worried sick, one of the most dispossessed ones. . She felt being created for the convent and it might have been demolished for all she knows."

Mother Superior was stirred to vigor.

"It stands, so we can rot in it! Unprofessed girls, these cherry pops, they harvested on that dreadful afternoon. Dozens of enforcers moved to the cells, they "visited" the younger sisters. Left on the expanse of taking half of them as spoils of conquest. My daughters are gone, but the boys dug up a molehill in the city to make sure we scratched our services and play dead. Ms. Pignon, the place where you are... That is a purgatory given form. We can embolden Therese to retain her firmness and she could...Ms. Pignon, we live in different cages. Tell her considerately we would like to hear about her new friends and lessons of no sinful themes."

"No problem, Mother Superior. Better not objecting how sporadic this on ninety percent will get.

"You are all in my prayers from now on. We are sustaining ourselves with a ballast of books. I´m sending you the file."

The device beeped and we said goodbye.

"She could never stand the wicked people," told me Frank Sterling, to whom Therese was, months ago, bringing homeless and socially deprived people. His foundation continued to soothe them, heavier of three fellows surveillance.

He didn´t send any files, but he beseeched me to employ him in any job that would "tear down Towers and their dungeons" from his side. I had this friend, who promised her parents she´ll be good if they give her unicorn pegasus. She was grounded like never.

Nevermind. M-Moment came.

I recited the number that stood for home. Seven rings. Murmur and one divine voice.

"Be that kind and hint me at least your silhouette, madam or sir!"

"Dad," I uttered.

I heard him say "Excuse me" ad infinitum. He was exiting some crowd and then asked: "Daughter, is you calling me L-E-G-A-L?"

He was spelling it slowly.

"No, dad, we duped the Tower!"

"Well done... Are you OK?"

"Dad, they are starving me, stripping me, whipping me every other day, bounding me, waking me in the night in order to secure me good marks in misogyny. Jenine Thompson was taken to something more extreme, so we could talk and they threaten you and mom if I´ll be out of line. I can talk to the nun, who isn´t molesting me, thankfully, and I must work as one of the Principal´s secretaries. I wear a chastity belt, but I´m afraid he has a universal key!"

"Daughter, thank you for calling us! I hate most of them. I´m proud I conceived somebody who had courage!"

Now a female divine voice.

"Marcelle, who is calling?"

"Mom! It´s me."

"Barbara! When did you use the flute I gave you the most?"

"When I chased away the wild dog in Thailand."

"Be calm, Barbara."

Dad talked to mom, not to me.

"Daughter, sorry I haven´t talked to mom right away. We are with Viola and the grandkids. We are here so much since they take you from us!"

Viola? That specter almost faded away... She was eleven when I was born and when I was eight when a baby in her belly changed my sis surname to Gretzky in a marriage with a guy, whose politics creeped mom and dad out.

"Any regrets on their part?"

"About you? Yes, when we ask, but they want to live as Brave Hunters and nothing else. We... We find it difficult to talk about Princess Towers with them. We are one or two days with them every week, like on this... Dwight is doing wide festivals around his villa, we are close to family as much as it wants us to be. Daughter, how many of you are in the C-O-N-S-P-I-R-A-C-Y?"

"Six, if I don´t count Jenine. We are planning to use favor of Rear Riders."

"These are still Brave Hunters. I´m making an exception for my daugh... For Viola and my son-in-law. They will be not rescuing you, Barbara! You can count on..."

"Dad, who do you talk to? Dwight wants to play in your presence!"

Viola. I should have talked and say who I am, but I barely knew her and this wasn´t in the plan. I should have trusted her, Betting on blood, flesh, and home over Brotherhood.

"She has finished talking," my dad said and turned off the call.

Therese not awake, I didn´t have to describe my conversations. Grief could melt away in my next parent talk or this night in the dream.

 

[Barbaria1]

"Daughter, is you calling me L-E-G-A-L?"

He was spelling it slowly.

"No, dad, we duped the Tower!"

"Well done... Are you OK?"

Am I okay? Well … no … not exactly …

 

[Miras]

Am I okay? Well … no … not exactly …

It can always be worse...

 

[Miras]

4-2-5

Nora

Scottish came to their senses and concealed themselves behind the borders. The only men who stayed longer did it so to clean up the war-damaged Cliffordshore.

You don´t see a point in relinquishing the warmth of your small room under the attic, but the winter sun fondles your skin and pajamas, straining the limits. Your intimate parts are covered, you or your friends are not observed. You are countess on the sovereign homestead.

"Nora, breakfast!"

You run down. Mom and dad give you three chocolate bombs, timers tickling.

Your sisters are crunching lollipops.

"You have been a great support," Viola says. "But what truly profits all generations of mankind is fucking. One good fuck and you have a family, created the human and the fucker, if solid, repays opulently for breastfeeding."

"Not yet," Zita says. "Nora is seventeen. She can fuck figuratively while biding her time to arrest Polish-Japanese Cowardly Hunter.

"Virtue isn´t outgrown shoes," mom says.

"It isn´t. Wearing it doesn´t hurt, slipping it off does," Therese says.

Can´t she quit the Fashion design school?" dad asks.

"Not yet," Zita repays her line. "Secretaries of the Princeps have ordered the new model!"

"Go, my daughters. You have finished talking!"

The fence opened hands free, you and your sisters tie the saddles on the winged unicorns. You fly low ver over the Clffordshore, you have a tendency to stand on animals back and tighten the bridle, you are allergic to steeds of a realism level. Unlike Viola or Zita, who trace the way to Fashion design school on the tail of condors. You don´t desire their company, but on the ground, your mound's tail is being pulled. You don´t see it, you simply have a hunch. For your disloyalty, the visibly male gorilla has been selected as your mating partner.

"Sisters, I haven´t done anything!" you plea.

"Your journal wasn´t sincere," Zita says.

"I came before you and I ´ll be here after you," laughs Viola.

They can´t be deceived. You never really entered the realm of their vows and you are left behind!

 

[Miras]

4-2-Finale

I wasn´t left behind. Oh, I adore the reassurance of the waking moment that you are not in peril. The other recollection, the one about my newest shelter, made me yearn for the dream as it began, in idyl.

What day we h... Thursday it is. With the ever-changing timetable, I am topsy-turvy right off the bat. I sandwiched myself between bedclothes. The rescheduling memo charted double PE to the detriment of Homemaking´s minutes.

"Ehhhmm..." Therese was begrudged if that could be taken as an indication. I came to her side and signalized the ordeals of Mother Monica and Frank´s idle promise. . I regretted ruining her affection by eloquent wry face when she asked about my call.

Like they dined, shieldmaidens stuck together over breakfast, inseparable by the imposed office moonlight. Holoprojectors were dim like dry fish tanks, until the final gulp. They didn´t screen another episode and Alice was editing the fourth one these days.

Videocast commenced in the least expected fracture of time dishes are being cleared off. The infamous spokeswoman.

"The fate of the convicts we broadcasted yesterday was their third to the last punishment," she said. "On the same day they were all sterilized and as I speak they are on the way to tundra. To work, to grow old, and not fouling the indisputably working structure model of society. Stop being irrational, students. Freedom is in love! Freedom is in doing what you have the best instincts for! The reason is passing knowledge to your children!"

The damnation assigned to forlorn rebellion stars sent chills down our backs. I saw faintness stealing spirits of Louisa and Amber and Sharona as well as both Brunkow co-lectors. Kaur is dark-skinned, so she couldn´t get pale, but her eyeballs could get glassy.

Am I and Stacey possibly the last traitors in preparation?

I knew about implemented "exercises" from Lydia and Julie. The preparations for Paladins were practiced in the pool. Ekström let us drive the motorboat, waterski pulled behind said motorboat, one of those things combined with shooting from the net throwers and dueling stick-armed on the narrow planks. I got my deliberate defeats, not going competitive and giving more likes to the boat stuff.

The wardens scoured the loyalist squadron to the last drop. It was glaring to me that we have been gifted with a pedestal of a bad reputation. Reminding ourselves we are not Nora Albert doesn´t suffice. The worst was yet to come. They had secretary outfits in the backpacks! I can bear the shame of collaboration, but paint myself director´s maid in plainly stupid clothing - and here that says something - surrounded by people... Red Riding Hood costume would be more dignifying!

The peace was pertaining to the principal´s office, kudos to Montserrat reproducing ghostwritten speech word by word, conjuring Mayson´spraise and twitching of Zita´s mouth corner. Missing your thunder, much? No, no, no... Therese adopted me. But Stacey isn´t warm and Jenine is gone. I must not screw up with her. I have to mind two-thirds of the tablets.

"Josh, we are done!" Mayson exclaimed. and the printer released two pages of the text.

"Do a bullet point version and send it to the participants, so they have an idea!" Mayson summoned two wardens, one to go with Montserrat free of duty, the other to keep it tidy here and for himself, he chose a nap in the apartment.

So he was gone and I had it easier to be resentful rather than fearful. The tasks of Nora Albert in the first two episodes weren´t dastardly. It is the morale that kills it. I was doing the insidious part.

I kept an eye on Josh´s work. Zita in longer intervals. His head learned a few new turns, not commanded voicelessly by Mayson, even if the boss was just scratching in the butthole.

Josh was looking at the water dispenser...

"Do you want to refill?" I offered the basic courtesy...

Josh was baiting the warden´s approval and she let me leave my chair. The male secretary gave me a tea-scented cup. Heavier by water, my gloved hand put it back on the saucer. Josh´s fingers were picking up letters on the keyboard. I have caught a glimpse of his email, but the stuff on top was deciding... The bubbles called the recipients: Alexander Cao - VP of the Advisory Council, William Olsson, - Governing Councilman of The Internal Affairs, Hachi Manabe the coordinator of The Fifth Wing Initiative, Mark Connor - Director of The Maryland Treehouse, Fritz Lefebvre - The Adjutant in The Office of Prefect of Wyoming.

One Japanese guy. Piece of a piece. I know nothing of his character, but The Fifth Wing Initiative can´t be anything else than the enterprise of Rear Riders and he cares about us enough for someone who never met us. Stacey, or anyone, really, can tell Damasio about him.

I signalized it to Zita.

"Hachi Manabe."

She was answering red on her face.

"I was gonna use the reception."

Being helpful saves your time, step-sis.



On the sunset before the weekend, I gave the browsing device to Claudia Fleischer in the park.

"I believe you will find those, who you can call family. I have two families, but the obstacles are cluttering the way up."

 

[Miras]

Chapter 4, Part 3 (1)

Therese

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. One should never oppose the teachings of Christ, deaf to the righteousness that is not of this world. And this one central to boot! Verily, contradicting for the human mind, because God gave us the instinct to flinch from the unpleasant. I prayed for bravery, so it wouldn´t be just the spasm of soul. Fear, fear, fear, nourished by Agatha and Ellen.

"Reach out the other goddess and no slowing down, garbage-head!"

The Mexican waved the mighty flogger down on me, slashing my right hip. I cantered on all four, runny nose leaking over the task unwinnable by design. I slowed down the second I accelerated, two mouse traps from the floor snapping on my hands and one on my foot. I was as movable as a worm when I kissed Ellen´s big toe.

"Why should I bother with you, lump of poo?"

"You shouldn´t, ma´am. I simply deserve to be reminded of my worthlessness."

Ellen pressed her heel on my nape. The trapped fingers and toes compensated the stolen looseness by circling the plates around, but they were banging when Ellen was whipping me from shoulders to calves. I didn´t wear a thing, the chastity belt is considered excessive here and Ellen´s flogger is improved by steel balls. I walled up the filthy word I had chosen for her. It evaporated along with my consciousness. I have reawakened in their shower enclosure, ice-cold head, a flame-hot broken marionette of a body.

I longed for Georgianna´s lecture on BDSM´s history, just twenty minutes ago. Agatha and Ellen led me standing on two this time, I managed to catch on faces of their roommates - white Olivia and Native American Irene. They stayed inaudible, I could only guess for whose benefit.

"Ain't this weird?" Ellen asked as she stuck some tapes with magnetic parts on the walls. "She is supposed to obey the guys."

Agathe rubbed her chin. "You gave me an idea. She is our personal project. We can pitch her submission when the Saturday wing-ding starts or when it ends."

Does it matter where I´ll be sliced?

"We can ingratiate, Agatha," Ellen said. She affixed my limbs in mouse traps to the magnets. My legs were opened that way and Ellen was chafing the soft vulva with floggers handler. I have there the mere short line of fur in the middle remaining. Arthur is the minimalist.

Ellen lashing my labia showed the will to maximize...

There is only one excuse for not fucking, that being menstruation. How many of us have accepted gratefully those days of cramps and blood and irritability?

The row of the women in period is the jolliest little herd in the infirmary, people nearly jumping the queue to get their additional napkins and tampons, all listed in the certificate doubling as their sick note. When the heirs were the ones who felt ill, realizing they can not more than talk to us for several evenings.

My monthly dispensation hasn´t come yet, as an exhaustively flagellated wretch I have simply right to some pain reducers. Not too strong, so I wouldn´t be dizzy with Arthur. Good Lord, they didn´t consider me a serious enough case to lodge. I was swallowing pills while sitting down on the bed. None other than Basma stepped forward to be of service. She was sporting the dark blue nurse outfit.

"You were given to them for striking up one hedonist she-fellow?"

I tilted my head and the cup, but I nodded.

"And for being honest. Beware, Little star."

Arab girl gave me a pill she hid under the little finger.

"If you can´t beat them and you don´t want to join them, convert them."

That is the essence. Pray for your enemies. Make them see the truth.

Should I be praying for their sake, not excluding Larissa Lewandowska?

Medicaments induced drawn-out tittering, favored by Arthur.

"As the law demands, you have stripes, for you are my tigress," he said. He witnessed me not trampled, raging on Larissa. Ergo, I´m the beast. I have to land on him like he was slow gazelle. He exaggerated the whimpering. He loved being bitten on his ears and through his mistletoe mustache, furiously scratched on a couple of beefy arms and hairy chest. Sated with thousand inflicted cuts, he did something uncharacteristic for both either hunter or the prey when turning the tables on the predator. Being aware of my aching vulva, he tumbled me on my stomach, opened my bottom tenderly, and pushed his rock-solid member into my anus. I couldn´t stand that pressure behind and the movement on the edge of my guts, but the glutinous squirt warmed me.

Arthur went to wash and with the junk sanitized, he shouted to the entrance.

"You can go now too, Double L. Eve´s robe not enshroud, clothed girls not allowed!"

Nude Larissa hustled in. I have never desired female beauty, but I was dumbfounded by the symmetries of middle-sized breasts and dancer´s legs.

"Arthur, you should know by now that in this room I´m Triple L. Lusty Larissa Lewandowska, reporting for duty!“ She saluted.

As most of the times, Arthur was on top, making her "struggle" during the foreplay, licking Larissa´s fake tears and listening to cries for her husband´s help when he was inside. The second conquered orifice sucked him dry.

"You two, make out!"

Larissa could be her energetic self again.

"You are too hot for a penguin, girl."

She strode over Arthur and she took both hands of the penguin that became tigress. She laid me down on the left side and did the same.

"Reward yourself with a pot."

Easy to decipher. Her trimmed fur is shaped like a marijuana leaf. I had a lick of the slit and mine was just being eaten off, glossed up by the tinkering tongue and the teeth. The sensation of burning dissipated in the ambition be utterly voracious as a response.

 

[Miras]

4-3-2

Arthur has fallen asleep, nipples supporting him, nipples bearing down on him. He has an hour and a half to return from the dreams (our copies might retain him there) and crave me or Double L.

Larissa and Arthur... I have capitalized on meeting them. Which I did by breaking another of God´s commandments. But if anyone slaps you in on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. I responded to the offense with violence. Since that day, Larissa forgave me and I forgave her... Arthur was so kind to inducting me into polygyny and lesbianism. I´m not hating on them, but I die a little in the presence of Roberta or Sylvia and I live with nausea from Lolle Manderville!

"Larissa," I said. "I can´t pray with you tonight."

She pulled away from Arthur.

"My loss. I like to watch you throughout. You are the compelling devotion personified. I was not forced to find here a female pastor, stinking by Protestantism."

"I have other things to loathe, Larissa. The ecumenism isn´t nearly as detestable as..." I shut up.

"Say those words, Therese. I will rebuke you and the security will nullify your grouching."

"Words? Extramarital! Barren! Threesome! Lesbian!"

She wasn´t taken back by any of the points, given how instantaneous her reply was.

"Penguin girl, what do you think is more important to God? Our earthly lives not terminated violently or our vags widened by dicks of guys we haven´t gone to the altar with? Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering The Kingdom of God before you. Maybe we are quickening in the ascension to Heaven. Arthur promised to make us both his lawful wives. It was never enacted how many marriages can good Christian man have, rich ones must distribute their genes. I will renounce lesbianism the day Apocalypse of Peter is in the Bible, not sooner. And one of the few humane things here is that nobody tries to impregnate us. "

It´s damnable to misuse the scriptures and her happy reason pays no attention to the discrepancies. In the style of those Italian mobsters, who don´t miss a single mass.

Larissa knelt on the bed.

"I spy with my eye something beginning with S"

I wasn´t in the mood for games.

"Sulker! Penguin girl, pray with me. Thank your Creator for a future husband like Arthur. So many gals will be jailed in their homes and have their asses beaten if they won´t do the laundry on time. ZhisThis will let us have a TV and VR set for two players. "

I asked her loud and clear.

"Will we also pray for the other women?"

She clasped her hands. "Yes. For all who are good. And for all whose hearts are locked away from good. She was praying with closed eyes, disregarding me.

Double L didn´t answer my question, my acute, crucial doubt about her, but Barbara, if honest, would alleviate me in the matters of people stolen from me.

And she is my little rainbow as she proved before she spoke to Zita or Stacey. Mother Superior, far from well, is alive and she considered me a helper. Frank has his foundation and I hinged on the pureness he displayed. Barbara had the call to her parents spoiled somehow. Let it be the test for her, she will extol them simply for being and liking her.

My linkage to the covenant was reliant on Mother Superior´s request. Lessons of unsinful subjects could be extracted as some curiosities of Barbara and Zita´s telling. PE would be constrained to mediate. Stuff went over today - water -skiing, shooting... Possibly if the sisters will be taking steps to daring escape. Homemaking is problem-free.

I was obligated to get the matter of interest over in a novelty edition. Inmates variegated the kitchen shift by singing recipes and their parts to the liking of wardens and cooks. I was scripting my working chronicle that way, faking the enjoyment of barbecued peaches with mascarpone´s preparation.

"Stella stirs the sweet to sour, she won´t t be the one to devour, my knife slices fruit to two, Pearl smashed open the marinade... That will do!"

I can´t rhyme in the chaos of the overcrowded shambles, but the numbing pain and the Mother Superior´s requirement were the gentle inspiration. It is not hard to be faithful and pious just in the fallout of succor. Little did I know it would be cut short by the inhuman shaming. One of the younger cooks told me to visit co-lector Kaur in the guests' dining hall. She told the same to six others. Cindy, one of Stacey´s friends. Student girls Louisa and Erin, Sherry the manager, Gabrielle and Jennifer, two street thugs. We were perplexed. Kaur lectures on the rarer recipes and household tips, she speaks to assembly or lets the carrier convey.

She stood at the nearest oval table, charm of Indian not even thirty years old diminished by the careworn face.

"Seriously wrong stew is on our plates, dudettes," she said. "I was tol... They order... I accessed the database and according to their wishes, I had to mark you... All of those, whose cooking is below average! I am sorry, they didn´t need me, they would come to the same results! I don´t know most of you, promise them you can progress, I will speak on your behalf!"

The outrage was extreme as in Jennifer´s "Fucking assholes!" or in the Cindy´s "Bellinda will hear about this!". By the mischievousness of the fate, spokeswoman and Dorothy entered the dining hall early enough to caught us in the act.

"You´re rightfully aggrieved," the spokeswoman said, smacking her lips. "The qualitative gap holds back the outcome of the whole class." She showed her hands in the assurance gesture. "You won´t be harmed today. So your meals aren´t state of the art. No big deal. We can try to expedite harmonizing through your empowerment."

If we were in the Arctic, Kaur would breathe a thick smog in her exhalation. I would steam in a little fog as a sideshow. The spokeswoman put an end to a tremble of my being rustling up anything above open sandwich difficulty. Skeptical thoughts have subsided in the boundless naivety I maintained for a stroll and heightened in the so typical chamber of the dungeon. The spokeswoman and the warden propelled us to the cell of grey bricks, the space pared by the benches on sides, the strong chains looming over mouse-colored pixie cut of... That was Harris, the other Homemaking co-lector on the lookout for the slop rustlers. The spokeswoman made Kaur stand next to her, but she questioned Harris first.

"Cecilie, tell us what were you told to do in the morning?"

Harris didn´t blink.

"To find the students with below-average marks from knitting. Not unrealized mistresses, actual failures."

"How many did you find?"

"Two. One mature and one student girl."

"One of the student girls is also in the bad cooking group. Your influence is crashing with two individuals. You had a successful knitting company, am I right?"

"I had ma´am."

"Your colleague invited, produced seven F-students."

Kaur looked at her, then on us. Cindy and I lurched. Jennifer gawked the same, ditto to Gabrielle, focused Sherry was covering the student girls.

"That one has lost stellar qualities," Dorothy remarked.

"Damn straight," the spokeswoman followed. "Her show, how was it... Armitpree cozies! She doesn´t cozy too much without a script and she is sending paper airplanes of so-called tips all week long. The spokeswoman pointed her finger at Kaur and stated melodramatically: "She failed in teaching you how to cook. Call her to account! Torn the dress apart, slope her, put the boot in!"

"Yes, do it!" Kaur assented to her and also unsettled the spokeswoman. She kicked her ankle and stepped aside, offering us the way by her gestures, like if Kaur was a huge wedding cake.

When I try to justify myself in yet another instance of weakness I am delusional about spurring from Jennifer and Gabrielle, alternatively from Louisa. I can´t deny it was me who was ripping Kaur´s blouse on the left, I don´t know anymore who was on the right. Just like that, Kaur´s bra came to the fore, the white layer with black polka dots. We all hit her on the chest and the face.

Should she be praying for me? I am not her enemy, but that doesn´t change the fact I am "persecuting" her, reluctance is no excuse. Others should prey for I would be forgiven and for overcoming weakness. One can say the bad will is a weakness on its own, one that can be overwritten by the Grace. Is there inside me, the best version of Therese Kelly, so I could see the unquestionable path, like a lantern that was snatched to the bandit´s solitude?

The out-of-breath co-lector loosened up the skirt, so it could be shredded off quicker and the convulsing legs and waist were revolving knickers. We smacked her and pinched her, but she wasn´t resisting, she was jerking in an uneven manner.

"We will take her over," the spokeswoman said. Hypocritically relieved, I and Cindy put Kaur on her feet. Dorothy took a knife and slashed the co-lector´s underwear, drawing a little of blood on the back before uncovering swaying dark breasts in their fullness.

"We have a replacement for you," Dorothy said. From the bench nearby she took a double hoop with small holes on the sides and locked Kaur´s breasts in it. The meaning of the holes was explained by another item - long needles she thrust into breasts. Kaur was squealing, held back by the spokeswoman as Dorothy put heavy iron panties on her and plugged their hole by the plastic screw-like thing, now penetrating Kaur´s vulva. Two women chained co-lector´s hands and one click on the spokeswoman's remote control lifted her. The spokeswoman opened a tile on the floor and she poured a bottle of oil from her coat below. The next click had no visible effect. I understood when I smelled the burning oil. Spokeswomen brought Kaur down, making her twisting her feet in fear.

Dorothy was craving them with nails. The spokeswoman told Harris to assign us only homework today. As for us, we haven´t been entirely forgiven.

"You will wear these on your Homemaking outfits." She dispensed the scarlet cloth pieces in the form of the letter F she had on her shirt's front pocket. I will never live to see scarlet A´s, I had thought. " You are on probation in the cooking area, because of incompetence punishable by the male enforcers. Don´t let your score drop, you have precious talents unearthed," the spokeswoman said. My hands were crumpling the skin of their finger pads. If Harris asked, I could say I wasn´t knitting sweaters for days.

 

[Miras]

4-3-3

The xeroxed patterns constituted an appropriate pastime for Mother Superior. My commentary will be in all probability written on Friday, the new depression waning of and before Agatha takes me to the unknown event. My mood got marginally better on Georgianna's lecture, made special by the presence of the authentic long-time sub ("This slave is forbidden to touch the button! Call the maser for giving an exception!").

I´m doing resolutions. Better cooking so that I and Kaur will be handled with gloves. In due time, I will elucidate all accessible salvations to Kaur.

Today I was the salvation of horny heir, the priceless backup.

"For reelz! You can see why the monogamy is absolutely inhuman!" Arthur bemoaned Larissa´s menstruation certificate. The incapacitated lover, cross-legged on the bed, growled compassionately, showing the bare breasts to our guy, whose waist was mounting my body curled up, inconsiderate in the tempo.

"I´m not biting sausages, Arthur," Larissa said. "You can trust me with blowjobs."

Arthur didn´t think so.

"If I let you suck me off, that would be all the reason to be expelled from paradise and fined. Disproportionate to the tragic loss of two cunts and the totality of four jugs. That will not be taken away from me by the stupid female biology."

He slapped the breasts in front of him, punched my vulva with an extremely hard hump, and waited still, like if he was threatening his member. Cum or else! It watered me in ten seconds or so.

"Stay in position, tigress. Fucking on passive is strangely satisfying... I trust you as much as Double L and today you will also be a weeper in her sted."

Moving my head and nothing else, I glanced up to Larissa, who said:

"Every woman has three fuckholes, my liege, and you are versed in the dry one, so why am I for your eyes only?"

"I was doing anal yesterday and you are not so sensitive there. Or pliable."

"But I cared about my ass! Never causing it any hemorrhoids, working on my legs 24/7."

Lighter of sperm, Arthur embraced the mundane conversation.

"What was your job, Larissa?"

"Travel agency representative."

"Sweet! You are a globetrotter!"

"No continent skipped! I was in the company up to the activation of limiting protocols. Boss has written everywhere that he can´t afford to lose his female employees, but my colleagues were writing too... At the police, they showed me anonyms about my opinions. I carelessly confessed to the part of it, I wanted to show goodwill. Policemen took my nude pictures and booked me a penal flight and the bus."

People are awful!

"I feel sorry for you... They stabbed you in the back!" I sobbed. If my close ones denounced me... I could be a true masochist, situating myself to that adversity.

Do we have to be in crisis, to become genuinely compassionate?

"Penguin girl, now you see your worth! I was healthily humbled by Arthur, but I found too much pride in my new role.

I corrected you about discourtesy to your fellows, making the same faux pas, worse one! We have formed clearly cut collegiality and complaisance to the bestest boss ever." She gave Arthur a brief, friendly kiss. He humped me slower and he dismissed his weeping roleplay for the missionary.

She and I were wishing our lover a good night together. Double L treaded in the opposite direction of warden as all of us did sometimes and said: "Wanna by worthier by any chance?"

She confounded me. I had a vague notion it should be related to an earlier exchange, no clue, how could I have bigger value in her life. It irked me simply as I couldn´t fathom the answer, not because of low confidence. Does she intend to explain herself? That single sentence of hers segregated me from my roommates and I glimpsed her many one-sided brawls on Friday PE, women she pushed down to the water, women she entrapped, her arms and legs of beautiful nymph... Licking her crotch gave me a new perspective. For the love of God, she will explain herself, she is outspoken and if you put a bee in a lady´s bonnet, you are going to lure it away. You would expect her to be the one to sneak a look. Mindful of Mother Superior, the more observant Catholic by a mile, I was translating the tasks old and new to words. The cottage they opened on Monday was put into operation. A balmy aroma of herbs ground in a mortar slackened the spirals of my schemes and the annoyance abated in the very griding by the pestle.

"Check out my mixture!"

Larissa had to be directly behind me, her left arm shoveled her mortar to the breast level. Inside there was a blend and in the bottom´s middle, I saw the pristine face of the white rose. Conveyance. Or rather riddle for me about conveyance´s venue. Larissa cursed: "Damn, the flower felt there!"

Ladies in her row wouldn´t be blamed for coming to the conclusion she is displaying a symbol of her heir´s endearment. She has chosen the "hideout" against common sense. The gardening was clean-cut, me in the squad altering the rock gardens endlessly, the not-so-lucky majority culling the trees. The greenhouse with white roses stood not in the proximity to the colorful flowery ornaments we were picking up, closer to the woods, underpasses interspersed the way. We had permitted some freedom of movement with our carts, but I haven´t seen Larissa anywhere. She shouted at me from the treetop. "Don´t you know it is closed, you autistic idiot?"

I haven´t heard such invectives since childhood.

"Ma´am, she is hopeless and I´m her guide dog, I´ll escort her to the layovers. The grumbling warden gave her a limited time. We fuck the same guy, equals we are the same individual and can balance our imperfections.

"Intrigue in the plain sight, Double L?," I asked, cart backtracking.

"My favorite and unfailing strategy, penguin girl."

"But for what purpose?"

"I can´t forget the insurgents. I was a friend of the secondary participant - Susan Worthington. There wasn´t any "tertiary circle" to speak about, but people knew. Many disagreed, but couldn´t change their mind. It turned out as it did... Considering their exile, it will do us no good to think and talk about their misjudgment. However, they spoke about one striking fact. Pepper was organizing her uprising with Lolle Manderville."

"That co-lector? Bi-sexual?"

"Yes, she became that shortly after the uprising. Co-lector, I mean. I suppose she was bi since birth. Or at least since sexual maturation. The point is, it seems to me Manderville is a mole. I indirectly asked Ekström and she went on how nobody but co-lectors and insurgents was there. I snitched on Manderville and Ekström told me Mayson has screening in use. She talked like a fucking bureaucrat, she is in cahoots with them, absolutely. I also asked the dumb girl, Ruby. She spoke like a fax. I know they are scrapping PTSD out of her, but there were recited parts too."

"Thank you, I´ll watch my back when they are around."

"Penguin girl, I want to be certain they are the moles. You are friend with the Arab girl, Manderville´s roommate, I heard?"

"Yes... And even before her, I consulted with Brunkows. (That led to you for that matter.) What about it?"

"Question her! She should know about the uprising as it happened and one of Brunkows was among the hostages. If we have moles here, they can be fed the false intel."

"For whose benefit, Double L? I take it you are not really reconciled with being one of two Arthur's wives, but do you have some alternative? For you, for me, for anyone?"

I couldn´t exactly disclose that my room is brewing the plot of uncertain aiming.

"Does everything have to be part of grand design, penguin girl? Maybe I want to avenge Susan. Maybe I want to put the moles to sleep in their burrow. I don´t keep the hard feelings towards the one who squealed me. I have found a good admirer. I hate the person, who let so many women denigrate, harm, and jailed for life to ensure herself advancement."

This change in her demeanor was all it took to be vigilant.

"Why do you ask me today? Why not tomorrow in the park?"

"Because tomorrow you can fumigate the molehill."

"She has got wind about you being at the reception," Stacey signalized. "How so?"

"Larissa was the one telling me it will be the reception," I responded. "It was gossiped to her by Agatha´s roommate Olivia. L socializes."

"Splendid. Why didn´t I think of that?"

"You secretives are your own enemies," Barbara signalized.

"Whereas we secretaries are also going to the reception," Zita reminded us.

"So, it´s either park or an empty room for me? I should be thankful the lawn won´t be trad on by the tramps."

If I am the most tested one, then may I make the right decisions.

 

[Miras]

4-3-4

The reception was called up to half-past eleven to the wide hall delimited by Tower and Brotherhood standards with the FPA flag in the middle. A large number of slutty women had about half a dozen egg-shaped tables, the sole layers that could cover bare legs resting on the Stilletos that would bane muscles in the week to follow. The privileged ones were denied the presumed elevation, being hosted in the golden monokini, fastened by a giant ribbon on the back. The true color showed in the short moments though, as the rays that penetrated the darkened hall from behind of drapes needed a moment between the red and purple spotlight shining.

And the music being played? The tiring rotation of Bad Girls, Pretty Woman, and Cherry Pie. None of these hits of the past decades applied to me, I felt. For example, the reckless fervor to "live fast, die young". The light-hearted strippers, hmmm, those weren´t complaining about the food metaphors and some of them were tinkling with little forks for the cheesecake.

The supreme irony of this Saturday was me taking a spot associated with the table for the higher-ups, near to the Brotherhood standard. On the right side of the narrow top, Agatha and Ellen were drinking their martini impatiently, the toast schmoast. Irene was heartening the girls on the left side. They urged her to bring back new occurrences from her time as a video content mastermind. Zita, Barbara, and their friend Lydia were fiddling around the chequered career. The remaining girl, one they called Montserrat, listened only at the picked-up moments, but the most intensively at those. She was eyeing the guests for the rest of them. I´ve had a view blocked, thank God all were invariable. They made me hug a tall black pole, squatting by vulva on the seat with the rough pyramid, much below the actual table´s level. I could say my immobile lover was wearing me, I was "clothed" only in an oval cage mask with holders attached.

Agatha coveted my freaked-out expression I was overstating my worries with.

"You will be moving, but your cunt will be filled, till you go to sleep. Screw up... Screw anything up and I´ll drill you so much, your cunt will be large enough for five babies to slip through."

I confirmed verbally since Agatha and Ellen were now attaching two saucers to my holders, wide, but shallow. I failed to see, why they are preparing me. I did not care for much else than rough attrition inside my crotch.

They turned the lyrics and music of Cherry Pie down to the bare minimum, the elite has been completing the representation. I recognized the wheezing of principal Mayson, Dr. Beck, and Master Malcolm. I managed to rotate my caged face enough to distinguish the movers and shakers, consisting of a row of wardens, who were handing out some grey-to-blue ballots to privileged ones, taken aback by as well as protecting those three men enjoying their time of slow advancement. They took the sovereign, majestic chairs with gilded headrests, just here, between the top tiers and secretaries, acknowledged by everyone, mildly acknowledging Agatha.

"Stand up, girls!" principal Mayson shouted to be heard over half of the hall. The privileged ones stood up obediently, some of their bare legs shivered. I suppose they can warm up by shaking the breasts... Agatha, Ellen, Irene, and Olivia were humbled by adopting the true painted whore image through an almost concrete level of lipstick, flashy makeup, and two-piece dresses.

"We are ennobled by your acceptance and inclusion in our order, girls," Mayson continued. "You are close to shedding any remnants of career mentality and we salute you for that by giving you extra dessert! But you must express gratitude. You have been given ballots with numbers on them. After feasting on sweets, you are expected to read them and find their twin-like in the game of pelmanism. So, when you´ll have your pair, it will make splendid love before our eyes!"

They laughed nervously, masking their embarrassment with handclapping.

"Sit down and replenish yourselves with sugar energy to move your waist areas and tongues. In about fifteen minutes."

No amount of stimulating songs would expiate for such an ugly toll. I dared not judge these persons, I was merely estimating they are petrified, their souls not fortified by hope and faith.

Our enemies are the precious thing. They are showing us harshness in the absence of comfort in which we slumber. They are turning to us the form of human that could once be like our own but experienced and decided for something different and they are giving us choice, how we will respond, which directions are leading to the life we want to have.

"I hope you like when ladies take care of themselves," Mayson said to Irene of all people. "It is cute when the bitch of choice has a hungry twat even before the panties slide down. In any case, hands on the table!"

Irene whipped out her palms theatrically, laughing without opening her mouth.

"Yes, it arouses me, because I will always see the guys paying for it! My pussy should be moistured by prosperit!"

"Corporate ladder must have trained you in cocksucking," Agatha joked. "I´m so taut to know, who of us is pleasing you more, Mr. Principal."

"Rest be assured, Agatha. You won´t have to do a year again. And I think even Sophia will have to suck my cock. She is already chained to the bed, she will take successively all three guys here, after we will be done with you and madames."

"I was never in a brothel, let alone running it," Irene objected.

"Great. I never liked to date bitches of similar profession," Mayson responded.

Nobody breaks loose from degradation. Please, spare Zita, Barbara, and their friends. Only one of them should be seeing stuff like that.

"You along with Malcolm and Mr. Beck will be under atrocious enticement without our cunts not yet opened."

No, she could not possibly read my mind.

"What are you suggesting?"

Agatha pointed her finger... At me.

"She is supposed to hold your soup in a moment. Do you see that glass? I think you all should take off a load of your jizz to it and she will drink!" She pulled the long twisted straw from her pocket.

I have a confession to make. I adored my masturbations. I felt the guilt, made all the bigger by me never being caught by the caretakers or sisters, but I could never think of it as sinful. I forbade myself to touch a male body, but I couldn´t understand why I would be filthy from touching mine and there were so many boys I would like to be with. It was obvious to me I will stop doing it when I will take my vows as the final sacrifice of things sexual in my life. It took Vincent´s deviant lecherousness to put me off self-polluting. Arthur didn´t want my hands to replace him - like ever - and my vulva thanked me for being not loaded when it didn´t have to be.

On this occasion, my erring body called for an exception. Not when I had to keep the balance so that Mayson´s soup won´t end on the floor, which was a herculean task for a moment. My pelvis was forcing the inside space to rub the stake intensively not long after the privileged ones made their pairs and the golden packings served not as clothing, but as bedding upon which nude sluts descended. I saw many variants of that. There laid about fifty-year-old with larger booty who was caressing eighteen- to nineteen-year-old square-jawed thin girl like a mother advising the offspring, no matter she was driving her labia through the opposite Valley of Pleasure, causing there stormy weather and giant flood with some luck. Disdain was arousing too, as I glimpsed two kissing girls, faces wet, but the kiss uninterrupted and some of the tears might have reached the other´s lips. Some of the women were overreacting, probably pornstars, doing what they have known best. I was forcing my waist to move in half-circles, soon not being the only masturbator.

Men opened or loosed their lower cloth pieces and insheathed their mighty members, always jerking off for a few seconds, stopping and let the other man in. It might have been the real cause why Barbara suddenly said she ate something rotten and all her student girl friends wanted to accompany their friend to a healthier environment. Mayson, interested only in the mature ladies, released them absent-mindedly. He was the first to cum and the movements of my head were instrumental in keeping his semen unspilled. I was more concentrated on observing quite a long member of Malcolm´s and I felt disappointed when he added his amount of white waste. Agatha waited until Dr. Beck relieved himself and stuck the straw into... Ewww... Cocktail.

 

[Miras]

4-3-Finale

"Let them go," Mayson shouted. "They are pointless now." The force of male wardens stopped the games of privileged ones and took them away, still undressed., Everybody´s attention was directed at me, so I started to suck.

The bitter taste of three men burned in the mouth and the neck because I couldn´t forget who they are. ... I had to bear with it. Larissa gave me a mission, so I raised my eyes a little to remind myself, to be more aware of this company and I smiled as if I drank pineapple juice.

"I see you reformed since the reduced sentence," Mayson said, looking into the seemingly dried-up glass.

"Yes, I said. "That is why I am here. Than... Thank you, not just for the cocktail, but for what are you doing for us here. This place is changing me in unexpected ways. I and my friends deeply regret that not all can squeeze the helping hand. Also thank you for the second chance you gave me and for the exception for Basma."

Melody of my voice should be that of a battered child, but this was humility I always reserved for the divine and that was preposterous, snake´s smile in the style of Double L. "I understand girls here can´t be reprimanded lightly. As Pepper and her accomplices have learned. Pepper was just deplorable. I and the Basma, on the other hand, have been simply unaccustomed. She recently told me that she starts to consider Ms. Manderville attractive and she might go for "alternative options" in the night."

Mayson shrugged.

"That´s cool, but then I´ll remove her status. Even now I can be penalized for the unfulfilled transaction."

"If I can say something... I think she is considering Ms. Manderville because she wants to be even more protected, silly girl. She said our new co-lector threatened some student girls, claiming she can put the squeeze even on you, personally. I wondered what kind of hogwash it would be and she looked taken aback by that question."

Good. Larissa´s toxic smoke is out. I hoped he will not interrogate me much further. I couldn´t just make up something like that, but if Double L´s suspicion is right, Basma might tell me more and I just stepped into the lion´s den.

Mayson´s tightened lips and wandering eyes convinced me that such boasting was possible. Maybe I made him now hate Manderville, but who knows when it will make difference?

"Have you talked to the co-lector about this?"

He was speaking in a frightening cold voice. For sure, he also might now think I´m having a score to settle with her.

"I can´t tell I know Manderville much... I just know she acts arrogantly. She is similar to Pepper in that regard. "

I don´t think I went too far. Manderville is also captured woman with only formal authority over me.

Mayson stuck his finger through the cage and poked my nose.

"You are an excellent judge of character.

One final test.

"I have seen the cooking co-lector, Armitpree Kaur, ravaged without mercy. They found too many of us unable of the good cooking. Maybe there are some lame gymnasts..."

"Hehehe, we are not preparing the Olympic Team, but the training before the visit is under insufficient survey..."

"Which will never be hardened," taunted him Irene, and then she added "Daniel". "Agatha disclosed to me the fact that coaches are too busy to be held responsible anywhere in the Tower."

She had a voice sweet as pralines, but the fake smile gave away the sourness. Thank God she wasn´t happy with her defiler.

"I´ll take you from behind and tear out the igloo from between your legs," he scolded her.

They released my neck and head. Utterly naked I was taken through the path of Zita and Barbara.

As it turned out, Stacey really had a dull Saturday.

When the monthly blood started to flow, I took Basma aside in the infirmary.

"Little star, I have a proposal from aunt Larissa. It concerns Lolle."

 

[Miras]

Chapter 4, Part 4 (1)

Jenine

It doesn´t matter where I am and when I am.

Varying degrees of imprisonment are just circles in the sand. It did not change a thing to Emily Davison when she was jailed. She knew that all women lived in prison whether they saw it or not.

I would expect nothing less from the rabble when I wake up and they seat me on that motorized chair that sends stinging to my bare ass every once in a while. It´s also totally their style when they painfully bend my back to lock my head and hands in the pillory on the plinth and a little peg on the string to pull my tongue.

Male wardens are the most dutiful with the last beautification - twisting and cuffing my legs on the chair so that womanhood between is properly unfurled.

There´s the reason why my cell has no open door during the day. I can be a spectacle, albeit a passive one, untouched in a violating way. My speech being disabled, I couldn´t react to the repetitive derision and bawdy accolades. I wandered in myself, the pains trivial to the steadfast wildcat. The catering is nothing short of groundbreaking. Every Hilton should offer a tube to the nose.

Four-legged partakers of the afternoon activity are unknowingly ruder.

At the sad end of the story of Emily Davison, she was killed by a horse belonging to the Prince of Wales.

Digesting of the lunch I didn´t taste proceeds in the dark stables. I might lay in this corner, but my neck is still locked in the wood, looking up to the tail of the chained black horse, who will drop his balls of shit on my mouth sucking the aching tongue. The piss warms my chest for a good measure.

These Brotherhood fellows, they are so keen on their steeds...

"A horse symbol?" I asked once Timothy Cooper, a congressman from my state, in the half-empty office.

The confident youngish man took two small statues of stallions and made their heads knock each other. Then he wedged their teils.

"The prominent member of our sigil. If we put aside the simple fact it is one of the most indispensable helpers of man."

"I guess that makes your bunch possibly better than donkeys. Although you are still an elephant first, tearing the empire of the eagle with the opposite party."

Beastly symbols, one like another. Elephant and eagle, damn those signs of masculine power.

Cooper crossed and waved his palms like some traffic controller who has lost his stick vector. "Many Republicans and Democrats are now preferring the horse. Are you staying to be a mere porcupine, dear lady?"

Touchy, aren´t we?

"Porcupines are dangerous even if scared and cornered, Timothy."

 

[Miras]

4-4-2

They momentarily set me and the stallion loose. Some busty floozies cleaned me and pulled on a latex corset and four legs of the same material with hooves. I have my private corral, isolated from the pasture of the bona fide courser whoppers. The constricted body can refresh itself on the grated apples in the mangers, provided it is always on the four and the pointless otherwise unceasing move.

"You are almost perfect mere," praised me a floozy. "Look forward to one long horse… Insertion."

When they say something so insane, it is never in jest. They have given me a theme to overthink in the cell. During one of these walkabouts, I will be tilted for a horse. Future generations might preserve the video. I will be kicking the bailiffs, not screaming. Defending myself, not losing my mind.

The uniformed douches used to be funny, they gave away their approximate IQ value by picking on me. It began to pall on the bunch and maybe it was an additional order that rendered them no more garrulous than the fly-eater in the cell´s corner web.

It is not a necessity, but I could use some chat-buddy, here in the dark. I have heard plenty of scared female voices… Last week, was it? They went quiet after two nights.

The skin of my butt got pierced six times in succession and next to each other. If they branded me with a hot iron, the burning might be not distinct. I groaned, my body jiggling all entrapments forward. I am here far too long, they should have put me to bed many… Tormentful moments ago.

Tonight, the new response came. On the wheels the table holding flat monitor drove in the cell, the door behind it shut down. On that viewscreen, I saw the nasty face of prefect Edwin Green.

Apart from having the world´spointiest chin, Green also had the most movable arm, flying through the air with a glass of beer. My Cabernet Sauvignon was waning in the gourmet´s manner.

Like Cooper, he was from Wyoming and that was the first and the last thing we had in common.

It is terrific somebody so experienced shows me the Capitol," said the governor´s second in command. "I mean, not just that you are older, but you were rallying people since you were like... Fourteen?"

"You can work with the facts when you want," I told him and I allowed myself to slack up on my snide control.

"And your choice of the party has shown the intelligence too. Hell, choosing any of the third parties back then was the proof you are chasing ideals first, power second. "

"He wanted to soften the incoming criticism, I was sure about it.

"People should have recognized it as an altruism sooner."

Green looked upon some of the famous faces in the Capitol´s dining room.

"The corruption would infuse you a years ago, Mrs. Thompson."

"The expert has spoken?"

He coughed like a sick man.

"Every hour I breathe I ask myself, how can we fulfill our part of the bargain with people who voted for us. I am certain "the corruption" will once be undeniable, but by that time there will be the work of my legacy done and the pure power will be floating before me."

"Heil Green! In my experience, one can cure it by thinking compassionately about those without power!"

"And in my humble experience, professional politician knows the true fight isn´t about replacing the Left with the Right. Rather it is an advancement of those who tasted power against those who didn´t.

You think you haven´t matured in the corruption?

"Yet I heard politicians arguing and arguing about who should have the influential voice in the society."

He didn´t answer.

"Of course, I am telling that to the man who forgot that motto of our state is Equal Rights and who thinks the entire half of the human race is unworthy of making any important decisions."

He drank the last drop of foam on gold.

"We are not dictators. Husbands from the ranks of Brave Hunters are stricter than yours, no doubt, but they don´t want women to feel powerless. More like indefinitely assisting."

 

[Miras]

4-4-3

"I´m two minds about your exposure, Mrs. Thompson," said the present Green, my crotch throbbing as he was gazing.

"This is definitely how unmanageable members of your gender should be pacified. But you are a statesman and I must say I find you admirable. I know all about your... Final action."

Why do you call me, overlord? I can´t respond and this torture won´t scare me like drowning on the wheel. You think my plan failed, while security facilitated the leak of its own.

"I originally didn´t want my Princess Tower to open the spare rooms and increase capacity for the new inmates, but when I found out you are in the next shipment, I decided that privileged ones will have the same space as you damned ones. Me and you, we can afford privacy."

The device with the monitor shot some kind of capsule, poking my temple. It didn´t fell off, it attached itself to my skin and shifted to the inside of my ear.

"Only you can hear and understand me, Mrs. Thompson. I want to speak about some freedom for you and more power for me."

You aren´t worth even of my middle fingers. Lalalalala...

"See, none of the Conclave had a birthday, but they couldn´t hide surprise when the Princeps announced yesterday that he isn´t going to run for another term. He´ll stay as the elector in five years later, however now he desires to see we can choose the competent leader and he will set himself as an example of the one who respects assemblies of Brotherhood."

Lalalalalalala!

"I say he doesn´t want the responsibilities for other countries possibly rapping us on the knuckles. There are men, who are making no secrets they will candidate! Cao from the Advisory council. Deputies Otto Kramp and William Forward. Whoever succeeds will have one other issue to solve. Some Brave Hunters would like reeducation thing to be more personal, staying in the family, not institutional."

Lalala -paternal tyranny- lalala...

"I am bent on using the more important of them. If they press the public of Conclave, that just might liquidate a few of my competitors. And when the birds peck out holes, the mouse can slit on its belly to the throne room."

You have the hole that suits your head, Green!

"As a Princeps, I wouldn´t like to lose my benefactors, so I will be ready to close Towers. With the proper motivation, I can do more. Stop the auction marriages. I will call it slavery, that will be surprising when one of us employs such a word. I can give more options to the unmarried ladies, give women quota seats the House of Deputies."

Merciful heavens... Not that wouldn´t be enough. But we need every step!

"Mrs. Thompson, people like you are good to be humiliated and then exiled. Thanks to my partial amnesty you will be grounded, but I can guarantee you with Joseph urban view of Washington and warm food. There, I have bared you a soul of the most pragmatical Brave Hunter south of former Canada. Now, how could I be persuaded into unlocking the worst shackles for you and the coming generation of girls? Radical reformist is like some constitutional assassin. Nobody should see him coming. Why would they suspect me being one, if I´ll take out the right ultra-liberal guy?"

Green, you have turned my conscience back on. Kiss my ass!

"Mrs. Thompson, if you agree to help me, blink three times."

I rolled my eyes once.

"Alright. Wardens know what to do unless told otherwise. "

He drove off towards the wall and wasn´t telling me one more bit. He gave one significant nod to the two hairy guys who must have been checking their watches about a foot away. I wasn´t ungrateful when they unlocked the pillory and gave me back my tongue, however the legs hankered for some kicking, and who was I to disappoint them? The machos almost bloodened my genitals with truncheons. I wanted to scream, but I changed it to inarticulate honking to see, who will give up.

Wanders interrupted the game by chaining the legs back and overthrowing the chair and dragging me through the corridor, the slow Green examining my head from above. My fortune must have been depleted because the seat was biting me in the slant position too. Green had no qualms about me being in pain, he simply pointed out they must take the elevator.

They set me upright again for two floors way and opened room there, fit for the Prefect, if he came here in person. The ocher relief on the wall wasn´t portraying horse but the head of the bull, keeping a vigil over whoever sleeping in the narrow, but comfy-looking bed or breathing energy to the ear of someone behind the table and computer with maybe dozen of small monitors. This wasn´t luxurious as heirs´ apartments and couldn´t be possibly one of them as I saw... Yes, I saw the whole Princess Tower in the window.

"Mrs. Thompson, such passivity doesn't suit you," said Green. "And don´t tell me... If you were talking, don´t tell me you´ve got your spirits crushed. I saw some decadence in you, but duress would never erase that single-mindedness of yours. I take it you hate working for me and maybe you abhorred defaming the innocent bit."

Hamilton, tell me you got in touch. A horse must fuck more pleasurably than Green pontificates.

"Blah! you don't know much about my target," he pontificated some more. "His name is Matthew Stubley. Millionaire by 25, I suppose he joined your Libertarian party because he, like many younger businessmen, loved the money but despised limitations imposed by the Conservatives. He became Brave Hunter after many important players of other parties started using Brotherhood as an intermediary space and he was speaking the universal language of ambition. In the wake of the takeover, he submitted his clothing retailer to the state, we gave him the deputy chair. He has no political vision, he never had, never saying anything worthwhile, but in the shadows, he says how The New Androcentrism is inhumane, which might be his strong-willed wife cackling. Nobody should be sparing the spineless ones."

Green, you despots are sparing spineless ones, you know they bend like the tubes.

"They are prone to say that women lack backbone and are dependent on guidance as the euphemism goes. Such preposterous abjection is refuted by how we lived, positions the people elected us into."

Mildred had the smallest history from our sad party, formerly mayor of a small Kentucky town, a month ago this fleshy enviromentalist to retire from politics expectably, holding newly the same null and void authority as elderly former governor of Missouri on her left and middle-aged former governor of Florida walking in the circle over the carpet. Or me, taking the chair jut as those two. By a tricky hand of fate it did us some good that power was still kept by Timothy Cooper in whose living room we were scheming.

"I´ve heard her speaking," said the very man, programming input on his camera. Either he was separately printing every page of Nautilus ship records or he was turning between interfaces of his house. If so, then the new owner will reckon with the problems. "That's going to be the opener or punchline?"

"Mildred should have been giving a speech on her campaign. She cries for justice all day long. My lines will be no less factual," I barked.

People say that in the spots of politicians they are searching for honesty and we refined this commodity, standing in the group shot and as talking heads when Cooper focused. We compiled an appeal to the body of Conclave, singular in its balanced representation - the House of Experts.

"You are the pinnacle of intelligence and erudition and you do not discriminate," I licked their boots. "Men among you must know The New Androcentrism isn´t science and the dictatorship is the stupidity fed by stupidity. Women among you should realize what a coíncidence gave them power and dignified life. Something we were for decades told we are entitled to as any human. All of you, do a smart thing and reject The New Androcentrism and the new constitution!"

When the camera went off, Mildred was twisting her mouth like if she bit the lemon, old Kirschner looked older and Chalmers said in a fatalist tone: "We tried."

"Do you know it won´t be read only by them?" Cooper asked. "I will use my Conclave channel, but even if they were all silent, which they won´t be, one copy must go to the Princeps."

"If not civil war, I sawed the mistrust at least," I stated.

"They will read it tomorrow noon," Cooper said. "I will be in Greece and soon call to Sweden if you ladies are in safety."

I had still one big piece of luggage to pack up. Joseph. I went to my guest room and dialed him. Nothing. Shit! What about our rendezvous?

Oh, the host tracked me.

"Dismissed, Cooper!

He sat, in fact.

"Excuse me? Should I te.."

"You do not deserve to be thanked, Cooper. You have done the only decent thing and paid the debt."

I wanted to hurt him, lacking the expected satisfaction. I felt worse as I said that.

He scratched his nose.

"OK, an absolute sense of equity. Isn´t alien to me."

I would sound weak if I apologized.

"Principles, Cooper. They mark us heroes in the corrupt societies."

 

[Miras]

4-4-4 (Finale)

"Reconnecting with your husband, Mr. Thompson, that will be your starting point. It is an over-combined plan, so you should agree soon. Stubley is disliked by other Brave hunters for staying true to Libertarianism and Libertarians don´t like any Brave Hunters. Some of the former party members need little to open ut the betrayer´s closet.

I can´t use you directly, everyone knows where you are. But you can tell Joseph to visit them. He will obey you and he will claim Stubley is trying to appropriate the justice department through him. Perhaps over you. They will find right forgotten facts and give them to the nice ladies they associate with Brotherhood in general, but they respond to me. I will strengthen my position with the help of our enemies, no less."

You are turning good people into criminals or you are treating them like criminals. And you want to make me part of it because I was caught? I trod the air with my feet, it could refer to my defiance. I was supervising my eyes not to blink consequently.

"Don´t kick and go typing," Green succumbed to his wishful thinking and in the public voice mode he called two musclemen back. One of them put hands on my thighs, the other kneeled to unlock the ankles. Green reactivated the private mode.

"You will exchange an email with Joseph and video call. I´ll bring him to you. By then he will be the key in eradicating..."

Green, you have misunderstood me as you misunderstood the development of Western civilization. We both love gadgets, fellow prefect. Small is insidious and progress leads to the small. I took the radio capsule by the swift grabbing index finger. I put it to to the warden´s ear artistically, not bluntly as I handled the browser.

Green was speechifying, blessed on the screen, but I would wrong him if called him oblivious. He encouraged the warden, who held me on the proverbial leash sloppily by the look of it.

He lost his mind when that man took off the capsule, scars disfiguring his lobe.

In the public mode told the other warden: "Shot your colleague at once!"

"On what shitty drugs are y... OOOOOWWW!"

The warden who heard something he shouldn´t, crippled the other´s knee with his gun. Two bullets ended up in the Green apparatus and the man threw it out of the window.

Incidentally, the monitors of the computer also replaced images with blank. The injured warden, too kind for killing a man without reason, was shouting curses to the roof, pleading the people who would hear, not to treat his injury, but "To snuff wacko and the whore!" His healthier colleague bent over to him and stole his gun, pointing to us, a man incapacitated, a woman cowering by that thing with mini blades.

"If you won´t go quickly, Green turns the whole building against you," I said, mouth dry, tongue squeezed to the flat line. "You can use me as a human shield and l promise you reward from the Princeps and the Conclave."

The life of the politician is comparable to that of a secret agent. Everybody´s a crook, but disclosure of your activities is a capital offense.

"How would we get away?" he spat.

"It´s almost nighttime and they are not prepared. Tell me, are you a good horserider?"

 

[Miras]

Chapter 4, Part 5 (1)

Nicole

"To sweeten the mouth, to stuff the cunt, these are the subjects of today's philosophical picnic."

Carl´s hungers are intermixed and so is their saturation.

We two and seven other couples have made a delicious school trip for the social Lovemaking on Sunday. Heirs brought their mistresses to Uncle Tom´s Point to be enthralled by the Upper Falls. We are now cuddling on blankets, guys rummaging in the baskets. The air smells by nature of various distillation as I and Carl are gnawing on licorice in turns. His eyes are gleaming, brighten by the rapids, his left hand behind the front slit of my skirt where the black panties can be admired.

"Your lady's storage stayed empty of food for ages. What do you think is the best thing I can put there?"

This is the trick. He doesn´t like fawning and wants me to give it a thought and stay on topic.

"Hmmm, you might be interested to know how herrings swimming in my love drops taste like... Although they say vag is unpleasant if fishy. You might add some garlic cloves. If you savor it gladly, I hope you will repay me by that Māui-shaped dildo you are building."

"Built. I have been thinking about a little test drive on Tuesday, perhaps. No herrings, but there is a meat that should use some flavoring."

I should pick points when they are offering themselves.

"Pity you didn´t bring it. You could put meat to tasty hole and dildo to the hole you are not licking."

He was tardy. One couple was boning for three minutes by now.

"So I would soil you and you would vibrate inside?"

"Softer and passive, but also hard in mercilessness. My shrink used to say I´m the girl who likes to eat a cake and have it."

He howled and laughed.

"The best saying ever!"

Nature breaks are a tremendous change of the regime. The craftier girls are buying their guys' trust by giving them forbidden blow-jobs.

Inspired, I unzipped Carl´s lid and lowered his briefs, my fingers catching the foreskin. I held the cock´s beak, I crumpled the johnson´s raincoat. The young blood sprang up the hose and the biggest wang that ever sprout for me bulged its purple head beyond trousers.

Carl took a bite of a wiener from the basket, but changed his priorities and cleared the way, relegating the waistband of trousers to his knees. I wouldn´t suck him, the hand will lure the cum out of the hiding and he´ll lose the vitality for my holes...

He was red with excitement. I was jerking it slowly to not make it a hasty job, but with a rhythm that the last dirty slut uses to give the impression of an even more lecherous animal than the guy is.

"The bus is returning!" Carl said and cursed.

Nobody wanted to stop their leisure activities. Some heirs were physically unable to get out of intercourse... Something not shameful between them and inmates was a little different when Dorothy came to see them.

"You must continue in the facility!" she said. "The prefect has ordered alert drill over his section of the Yellowstone!"

In the vehicle´s stiffness, I didn´t have regret the uncompleted hand-job.

"A+ for you, Ms. Xiong!" Carl was in this relationship somewhat formal. "We have more than an hour and we´ll spend it on the dance floor."

"Don´t you want me to finish you?"

"No! I´ll finish you. You´ll be dancing without panties and we´ll see how many times I can poke the foof!"

No waiting for me to answer, he titillated my crotch and his forefinger started to circle in my underwear, graceful like a dolphin. I started to like bumping on the way...

I can be pleased from foreplay to orgasm. I´m no longer weirded out when Carl is fucking me, while I don´t rest from preparing the cheese spread which I´m giving him on the sandwich to recharge after the ejaculation. Post-coitally though, I think about Peter again. He could be often selfish in bed but he wanted to be a knight protecting me, asking about my worries, sharing his disturbances, planning how we will ease them when married, reciprocal, and thinking things through.

Could he betray me without hesitation by siding with people who dehumanized me?

The best course of action would be to call him, it is my turn.

If he betrayed me, he will do that again and all the gals partaking...

As if I didn´t remember what Claudia has told me.

"Santagnac has now ten times as many clients! Attractive women can appear exposed only in our media and not all come voluntarily."

She was almost sure her photographer will erase the record about the call and won´t expand on his New Order persona. She also didn´t reach any of her relatives.

She expects me to take up the torch. Misled. Carl teaches me what the Bachata is. Bachata differentiated by the fuckhole on display and the manly hand in it thrice per minute. Bachata with two orgasms...

Carl decided I won´t be needing panties all Sunday, which occurred to him as I stripped from today's dress. Going back to the room exclusively in the bra was nothing in comparison with the ignominy of the first day, my name here really should be Nicole Public pussy.

Roommates of mine have fallen to some comforting mode. Claudia is nude and tight-lipped. Alice talks to herself about that awful fantasy thing. Ruby is swallowing antidepressants. Patricia dreams about the cats. If the lesbian plays they were entangled into fazed them, I will be set apart once more. I must get some hobby besides meditating when I feel like it.

The four... Were waiting for me, not stiff. The vibrant expectancy was as much for them because I was supposed to join the gang at the table and unseal one of the five letters.

"Nicole!," Patricia said. "Way to go, girl The first time you are a recipient too since we were issued the belts! I told pals we need to read it all for one and one for all. Nicole is a good bitch. So what she isn´t slut?!"

Pat is everybody´s friend as it develops in some persons who are showing everything in the middle of the bar. I have never asked her which one of her folks was white and which black but the descendant of two races turned out fair, wild, and cuddlesome.

I delayed it, so I quickly handed the letters out, names printed on the seal. The principal´s text was identical in each peace.

Dear inmate,

you might have been wondering about the purpose of the recent PE lessons that you have been practicing this week. I will now explain to you. The next Sunday our facility will be visited by the four students of the Paladin institute Horatio - Enzo Romano, James White, Hubert Graham, and Jack Johansson. This is not meant to be a symbolical event. You will be interviewed by them for their research, entertainment, and assessments. Your conduct will be directed and measured when the time comes. The inciting of their staying here will be a giant sporting event. Just like when the school year started and you fought each other, celebrating the Heirs, you welcome the Paladins, divided into the two teams - Pirates and Bourgeois. The conscription card is attached to this very letter. Tomorrow your training as a part of the team will begin. Show me the passion and the will to serve!

Sincerely,

Principal Daniel Mayson