Oh yes, lovely line, sorry I missed a few chapters again but I have a lovely read in store for me!
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The Princesses in the Tower, by Miras
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Miras
Tribune
6-5-Finale
I slept wonderfully after sex, and for breakfast, we got plain buttered bread with delicious milk. Arnolph cunt reminded us of the beauties of the countryside that we can smell in those rare moments when we work or copulate around that cottage in the backyard. And it is there farm animals roam in the enclosures, with which we learn honest and hard work. The inmates took dozens of kicks from goats or cows in the afternoon.
I, subconsciously practicing an Aussie accent, sheared sheep, and when one ran off I jumped and laid it down. „Not only lambs will be silent, a woolly nuisance."
I took the sheared wool to weigh it in a makeshift pigsty. I probably didn't notice Shawn because of how well he blended in with the animals. He grabbed my hand, even though it was still clutching the bundle, and ordered me to come to the tent right after the lesson, where I would stay. Now my stomach and heart stopped working. I could hardly compensate for it for several days now by anything other than going to a more considerate lover. Roberta won't acknowledge the change in Ingham's behavior at once, and I don't know when I'll be able to please Jenine for the stultifying hours in the hideout with messages from Stubley.
Shawn left me sprawled out, arms and legs apart, at the entrance to the tent for the better part of eleven hours. All that was missing was the "Welcome" sign. I was forbidden to close my eyes. But I have to say that I was now a common sight for the guys, and they left me alone, except for a few pokes with their shoes around my crotch. I noticed that Shawn was disproportionately interested. He went through several visits and covered the entrance. His intentions were a little more apparent as he removed his pants.
I spread my legs more, but I didn't have to. Shawn took a long stem of nettle from the table, went to my head, and gave me a not-so-nice order to "Catch the drops when they come." He didn't go all the way to the most sensitive spot with the stinging nettle, but he burned both of my nipples with it, and when he was sure I was displeased, he started rolling the biggest leaves back and forth on my inner thighs. I relieved myself with a loud yelp, and Shawn grabbed his cock with his free hand, massaging it hard and long. The burning hadn't lost its intensity yet, so I didn't have to fake my suffering. Shawn was jerking off faster and faster, and his cum poured out of him. I raised my head to catch the strings of white liquid with my mouth. A bitter aftertaste took over my throat, and my lips were glued together, but Shawn wasn't satisfied with a single orgasm. He took me by the neck and didn't even let me get up. He slammed my head against the table and panted loudly as his hand held my back. When he stopped, I heard him take a drink, and something started to irritate my ass. Suddenly, nettle leaves penetrated between my cheeks. Then, my anus burned unbearably. I, the stupid hen, breathed a sigh of relief when he took it out, but instead of letting his burned skin rest, he showed me his cock had recovered and was again tearing me up from the inside.
He left me alone to hang on the gallows for the night. Everyone left, but I was rocking the show, unable to fall asleep.
"You know, we women have it much more complicated." Someone below me was laughing like a fairy-tale hag. McLeaf looked as good night as day in her latex.
"For something to be born, guys have to "take" us. Not us them. No wonder perversions that don't occur to most dominatrices haunt them.“
"So if anything is going to die, the active female will be more successful," I suggested.
"I'm getting a hang of it," McLeaf said and hissed. "Sorry. Did you arrange any of what Mrs. J. wanted you to do?”
"I arranged more. I can get the information she had no idea exists. I don't know what it is, but it concerns government officials. It will take a long time. Now I deserve something. Maybe talk to her personally."
McLeaf walked around for a while, looking around.
"I would prefer if they were more sure none of the lectors were helping. You can talk to her tomorrow."
"Thanks. They suspect the wardens. If her guy has some ID chip…"
"Invalid."
"Yeah, but if a warden of suitable looks is available, you can find it at her place. People would be inclined to think she had her people in IT."
Someone took pity on me and didn´t let me hanging all night. A co-lector uniform was waiting for me in the room – jogging pants and purple sort of sacks for tits in the style of shopping bags.
Unable to sleep, I turned on the browsing device in the wardrobe and found a short message from Stubley. Searchings end in hell.
And no one has yet dug out of hell. If Stubley isn't a wimp, he needs to try to be the first.
I tried to turn a rough night into stubbornness, and my roommates came to known it around five in the morning. I woke them up by shaking. Immediately we were playing the most escalated game of cards. Jenine sending me a message lifted the spirits of gals a bit. The desire to see her again was shared with me only by a person with whom I had no desire to have anything to do.
"We owe her every word we exchanged with our loved ones," signaled Zita Hari. “And if we make her contacts, the entire nation might owe her.”
"Not entire," Barbara objected. "I'm a pawn because of her, and someone I don't know will take care of me!"
“She killed a man,” Therese pointed out. “In a way, she couldn't be sure she wouldn't kill countless innocents.”
"You won't be missed if you don't want to. I'm going to see McLeaf, officially to pick up potential supplies. I'll explain your reasons, though, students!"
Heirs had another sexual fast for the next 24 hours. It seemed they wanted to show off that they were trying to how off because they were failing. The teachers, perhaps, because of the connection with Shawn, were quite considerate of me. I was quiet, except for the afternoon break, when I shouted at the runners in the yard to speed up.
I also got a pair of binoculars, so I looked around the woods, but in that dense growth, Heirs were rarely seen. I watched them for a good laugh. Since I knew where Jenine was, they would have sooner caught the proverbial wild goose. It must have been quite late. The fact that there were any guys around at all meant they were coming back. They were now searching far and wide for Jenine. We have to make some progress before they dig our lands again.
I've been pondering a lot about men. Before, I thought I would hate them all, but sometimes I needed someone who could think of me as a valuable being. Damn, why am I even thinking about it? I turned the binoculars to where I was looking a minute ago. Of course! I saw the black skin stretched over the muscles of Simon Charlesworth! He made love to me twice when we were playing in a primitive village. Now it's about man caves, but they are not far from the village.
I saw him undress and enter his tent in a light green shirt and camouflage pants. I called a recess for the girls, which meant they had to sit on a long bench, and the wardens kept an eye on them.
"Do you remember me?" I whistled and followed him. Too bad he couldn't take his shirt off. I would see his chest again and would be the bad girl. His tent may have been littered with junk, but that didn't mean there wasn't room for leisure activities.
Simon nodded as a sign that he remembered. He was probably unsure what I wanted, so I was going to reassure him that I´m here to satisfy both of us. I revealed my tits in one rapid movement.
“They missed you,” I whimpered.
"I missed the whole thing," he said with slight sarcasm, but he didn't want to push me away. "Can I judge if your lower parts came to like me?"
My jogging pants fell to the ground. I went to the corner, where I turned around, crossed my legs, and stuck out my bottom in the shape of a heart. Even so, I managed to pull down my panties. I walked up to Simon, and with every step I took, I saw more of his arms and chest and then his muscular legs and imagined the curves of his butt.
I decided to be honest. "I'm tired of men not respecting me. Will you be nicer?"
"I've already shown you my modus of love. I won't allow a woman to have control over her body. She can say goodbye to that, but it is the man´s responsibility that she knows she will never be cheated in bed with him and will remember it while she takes care of the house."
I gently patted his ass.
"Lesson you will never forget. Our dad sometimes threatened me and mom with that, and we knew he meant it, so we mostly behaved impeccably. But you're talking about a lesson in love, and I'd like to indulge myself."
He leaned down and kissed me on his favorite part of my body, the tits. He kissed and savored them. I hugged his firm back, massaging it to our satisfaction. He spoiled it a little when his tongue made an S on my stomach and settled on my pussy. By licking a labia achieved its goal quickly. I wasn't going to complain. Not when he tasted my juice inside. I cupped his head and symbolically praised him for the waves of pleasure. As a tasted one, I felt wonderfully wanted.
The tongue, however, was not the main instrument of Simon's pleasure. He wrapped his muscular arms around my legs tightly, and as soon as he left my lap, he rolled me onto my back. His attentive cock first tickled me and eventually reunited with my inner parts, gentlemanly in his penetration and uncompromising in occupying what he wanted to claim.
The rest of Simon caught me off guard. I kissed him like it was my first time, and he was the most wanted boy of my white and black friends. I even rolled him onto his back. And he rolled me back. And I went back on top. I was fine, but Simon wanted to crush me, and his humping slowed down a lot with the constant spinning. In the end, I was at the downside, and I wished I fell asleep, warmed by the hot blood of Simon, his heart beating against my breasts.
Sex with Shawn was a disgusting fluke that I had to endure to indulge Martin for the sake of justice and Simon for the subtle passion with which a man could convince any woman to do his cooking and laundry. Does Simon like interrogation scenes?
As a result of similar considerations, I came to the room untidy, and as I was adjusting the string on my jogging pants, I called out: So how many of you will help me?"
Therese stood in front of me. "Stacey, I finally talked Barbara into it. She wants to see it, and we'll support each other somehow."
"All the ladies would help you if they knew what you were working on" Zita Hari declaimed.
We trod slowly but relaxed, except for Therese, who looked guilty as if she had summoned the Apocalypse. McLeaf took us down to the basement, where it turned out that small dark rooms devoid of people and decorations can be the least depressing places in certain institutions.
The dominatrix opened the narrow door, and we stopped after three steps between the barely organized clutter so as not to bump into Jenine sitting on the trunk, as pale as I'd seen her in the footage and an equally pale bearish man in briefs.
Zita Hari let out a long breath, dropped to her knees, and held out her hand. She stroked Jenine's calf and then squeezed her palm. I couldn't bring myself to sneer, so instead, I said how much I admired her accomplishments.
“You tried too, Hamilton.”
Still surname based?
"I hope one of you would be willing to lie down and think of New England, ladies," the guy said mockingly.
“Shut up Lawrence. See how they're looking at you.” Jenine pointed to Therese and Barbara.
"We are looking at you!" cried Therese. “We're mad at you because you killed him.”
Jenine closed her eyes, swallowed, and inhaled through her nose.
"What was his name?"
“Enzo Romano”, Therese and Barbara said simultaneously, only the younger girl added, "I'm expecting a child with him."
The guy just laughed. Jenine on the other hand looked at the young woman sympathetically.
"Honey, I'll tell you how to get rid of it, I . . ."
"You still think like a murderer!" Therese said.
"Therese, I heard about many crimes and injustices committed by various men, but I believed I live in a country based on laws that limit the worst of them inside its borders. There is justice no more, and there are States no more. Why should I be sensitive about taking the exploitionist's life?"
"Because eternal laws remained Jenine," Therese stated. "You want to talk to that Cooper of yours? I know someone who might contact him. But I want you to promise Barbara you will turn yourself in immediately afterward!"
Jenine looked at me. "Would you ever agree to such terms, Hamilton?"
I slept wonderfully after sex, and for breakfast, we got plain buttered bread with delicious milk. Arnolph cunt reminded us of the beauties of the countryside that we can smell in those rare moments when we work or copulate around that cottage in the backyard. And it is there farm animals roam in the enclosures, with which we learn honest and hard work. The inmates took dozens of kicks from goats or cows in the afternoon.
I, subconsciously practicing an Aussie accent, sheared sheep, and when one ran off I jumped and laid it down. „Not only lambs will be silent, a woolly nuisance."
I took the sheared wool to weigh it in a makeshift pigsty. I probably didn't notice Shawn because of how well he blended in with the animals. He grabbed my hand, even though it was still clutching the bundle, and ordered me to come to the tent right after the lesson, where I would stay. Now my stomach and heart stopped working. I could hardly compensate for it for several days now by anything other than going to a more considerate lover. Roberta won't acknowledge the change in Ingham's behavior at once, and I don't know when I'll be able to please Jenine for the stultifying hours in the hideout with messages from Stubley.
Shawn left me sprawled out, arms and legs apart, at the entrance to the tent for the better part of eleven hours. All that was missing was the "Welcome" sign. I was forbidden to close my eyes. But I have to say that I was now a common sight for the guys, and they left me alone, except for a few pokes with their shoes around my crotch. I noticed that Shawn was disproportionately interested. He went through several visits and covered the entrance. His intentions were a little more apparent as he removed his pants.
I spread my legs more, but I didn't have to. Shawn took a long stem of nettle from the table, went to my head, and gave me a not-so-nice order to "Catch the drops when they come." He didn't go all the way to the most sensitive spot with the stinging nettle, but he burned both of my nipples with it, and when he was sure I was displeased, he started rolling the biggest leaves back and forth on my inner thighs. I relieved myself with a loud yelp, and Shawn grabbed his cock with his free hand, massaging it hard and long. The burning hadn't lost its intensity yet, so I didn't have to fake my suffering. Shawn was jerking off faster and faster, and his cum poured out of him. I raised my head to catch the strings of white liquid with my mouth. A bitter aftertaste took over my throat, and my lips were glued together, but Shawn wasn't satisfied with a single orgasm. He took me by the neck and didn't even let me get up. He slammed my head against the table and panted loudly as his hand held my back. When he stopped, I heard him take a drink, and something started to irritate my ass. Suddenly, nettle leaves penetrated between my cheeks. Then, my anus burned unbearably. I, the stupid hen, breathed a sigh of relief when he took it out, but instead of letting his burned skin rest, he showed me his cock had recovered and was again tearing me up from the inside.
He left me alone to hang on the gallows for the night. Everyone left, but I was rocking the show, unable to fall asleep.
"You know, we women have it much more complicated." Someone below me was laughing like a fairy-tale hag. McLeaf looked as good night as day in her latex.
"For something to be born, guys have to "take" us. Not us them. No wonder perversions that don't occur to most dominatrices haunt them.“
"So if anything is going to die, the active female will be more successful," I suggested.
"I'm getting a hang of it," McLeaf said and hissed. "Sorry. Did you arrange any of what Mrs. J. wanted you to do?”
"I arranged more. I can get the information she had no idea exists. I don't know what it is, but it concerns government officials. It will take a long time. Now I deserve something. Maybe talk to her personally."
McLeaf walked around for a while, looking around.
"I would prefer if they were more sure none of the lectors were helping. You can talk to her tomorrow."
"Thanks. They suspect the wardens. If her guy has some ID chip…"
"Invalid."
"Yeah, but if a warden of suitable looks is available, you can find it at her place. People would be inclined to think she had her people in IT."
Someone took pity on me and didn´t let me hanging all night. A co-lector uniform was waiting for me in the room – jogging pants and purple sort of sacks for tits in the style of shopping bags.
Unable to sleep, I turned on the browsing device in the wardrobe and found a short message from Stubley. Searchings end in hell.
And no one has yet dug out of hell. If Stubley isn't a wimp, he needs to try to be the first.
I tried to turn a rough night into stubbornness, and my roommates came to known it around five in the morning. I woke them up by shaking. Immediately we were playing the most escalated game of cards. Jenine sending me a message lifted the spirits of gals a bit. The desire to see her again was shared with me only by a person with whom I had no desire to have anything to do.
"We owe her every word we exchanged with our loved ones," signaled Zita Hari. “And if we make her contacts, the entire nation might owe her.”
"Not entire," Barbara objected. "I'm a pawn because of her, and someone I don't know will take care of me!"
“She killed a man,” Therese pointed out. “In a way, she couldn't be sure she wouldn't kill countless innocents.”
"You won't be missed if you don't want to. I'm going to see McLeaf, officially to pick up potential supplies. I'll explain your reasons, though, students!"
Heirs had another sexual fast for the next 24 hours. It seemed they wanted to show off that they were trying to how off because they were failing. The teachers, perhaps, because of the connection with Shawn, were quite considerate of me. I was quiet, except for the afternoon break, when I shouted at the runners in the yard to speed up.
I also got a pair of binoculars, so I looked around the woods, but in that dense growth, Heirs were rarely seen. I watched them for a good laugh. Since I knew where Jenine was, they would have sooner caught the proverbial wild goose. It must have been quite late. The fact that there were any guys around at all meant they were coming back. They were now searching far and wide for Jenine. We have to make some progress before they dig our lands again.
I've been pondering a lot about men. Before, I thought I would hate them all, but sometimes I needed someone who could think of me as a valuable being. Damn, why am I even thinking about it? I turned the binoculars to where I was looking a minute ago. Of course! I saw the black skin stretched over the muscles of Simon Charlesworth! He made love to me twice when we were playing in a primitive village. Now it's about man caves, but they are not far from the village.
I saw him undress and enter his tent in a light green shirt and camouflage pants. I called a recess for the girls, which meant they had to sit on a long bench, and the wardens kept an eye on them.
"Do you remember me?" I whistled and followed him. Too bad he couldn't take his shirt off. I would see his chest again and would be the bad girl. His tent may have been littered with junk, but that didn't mean there wasn't room for leisure activities.
Simon nodded as a sign that he remembered. He was probably unsure what I wanted, so I was going to reassure him that I´m here to satisfy both of us. I revealed my tits in one rapid movement.
“They missed you,” I whimpered.
"I missed the whole thing," he said with slight sarcasm, but he didn't want to push me away. "Can I judge if your lower parts came to like me?"
My jogging pants fell to the ground. I went to the corner, where I turned around, crossed my legs, and stuck out my bottom in the shape of a heart. Even so, I managed to pull down my panties. I walked up to Simon, and with every step I took, I saw more of his arms and chest and then his muscular legs and imagined the curves of his butt.
I decided to be honest. "I'm tired of men not respecting me. Will you be nicer?"
"I've already shown you my modus of love. I won't allow a woman to have control over her body. She can say goodbye to that, but it is the man´s responsibility that she knows she will never be cheated in bed with him and will remember it while she takes care of the house."
I gently patted his ass.
"Lesson you will never forget. Our dad sometimes threatened me and mom with that, and we knew he meant it, so we mostly behaved impeccably. But you're talking about a lesson in love, and I'd like to indulge myself."
He leaned down and kissed me on his favorite part of my body, the tits. He kissed and savored them. I hugged his firm back, massaging it to our satisfaction. He spoiled it a little when his tongue made an S on my stomach and settled on my pussy. By licking a labia achieved its goal quickly. I wasn't going to complain. Not when he tasted my juice inside. I cupped his head and symbolically praised him for the waves of pleasure. As a tasted one, I felt wonderfully wanted.
The tongue, however, was not the main instrument of Simon's pleasure. He wrapped his muscular arms around my legs tightly, and as soon as he left my lap, he rolled me onto my back. His attentive cock first tickled me and eventually reunited with my inner parts, gentlemanly in his penetration and uncompromising in occupying what he wanted to claim.
The rest of Simon caught me off guard. I kissed him like it was my first time, and he was the most wanted boy of my white and black friends. I even rolled him onto his back. And he rolled me back. And I went back on top. I was fine, but Simon wanted to crush me, and his humping slowed down a lot with the constant spinning. In the end, I was at the downside, and I wished I fell asleep, warmed by the hot blood of Simon, his heart beating against my breasts.
Sex with Shawn was a disgusting fluke that I had to endure to indulge Martin for the sake of justice and Simon for the subtle passion with which a man could convince any woman to do his cooking and laundry. Does Simon like interrogation scenes?
As a result of similar considerations, I came to the room untidy, and as I was adjusting the string on my jogging pants, I called out: So how many of you will help me?"
Therese stood in front of me. "Stacey, I finally talked Barbara into it. She wants to see it, and we'll support each other somehow."
"All the ladies would help you if they knew what you were working on" Zita Hari declaimed.
We trod slowly but relaxed, except for Therese, who looked guilty as if she had summoned the Apocalypse. McLeaf took us down to the basement, where it turned out that small dark rooms devoid of people and decorations can be the least depressing places in certain institutions.
The dominatrix opened the narrow door, and we stopped after three steps between the barely organized clutter so as not to bump into Jenine sitting on the trunk, as pale as I'd seen her in the footage and an equally pale bearish man in briefs.
Zita Hari let out a long breath, dropped to her knees, and held out her hand. She stroked Jenine's calf and then squeezed her palm. I couldn't bring myself to sneer, so instead, I said how much I admired her accomplishments.
“You tried too, Hamilton.”
Still surname based?
"I hope one of you would be willing to lie down and think of New England, ladies," the guy said mockingly.
“Shut up Lawrence. See how they're looking at you.” Jenine pointed to Therese and Barbara.
"We are looking at you!" cried Therese. “We're mad at you because you killed him.”
Jenine closed her eyes, swallowed, and inhaled through her nose.
"What was his name?"
“Enzo Romano”, Therese and Barbara said simultaneously, only the younger girl added, "I'm expecting a child with him."
The guy just laughed. Jenine on the other hand looked at the young woman sympathetically.
"Honey, I'll tell you how to get rid of it, I . . ."
"You still think like a murderer!" Therese said.
"Therese, I heard about many crimes and injustices committed by various men, but I believed I live in a country based on laws that limit the worst of them inside its borders. There is justice no more, and there are States no more. Why should I be sensitive about taking the exploitionist's life?"
"Because eternal laws remained Jenine," Therese stated. "You want to talk to that Cooper of yours? I know someone who might contact him. But I want you to promise Barbara you will turn yourself in immediately afterward!"
Jenine looked at me. "Would you ever agree to such terms, Hamilton?"
Miras
Tribune
Chapter 6, Part 6 (1)
Zita
Magnificent Chaos, residing in the nether,
Come to erase all names,
bring forth the disorder,
blind us in darkness.
Let us starve in the fog,
for that is better than living in lies!
I uttered a silent, self-created prayer in the chapel of the Trojan castle, half-sane and glamorously dressed by my virtual father´s servants. I can´t eat in my fantasy, but I wish they´d made the lime green skirt out of sugar.
Pious Zeena," my satyr butler addressed me. "Your adventurous court ladies have arrived. Shall they join you in worship, or shall I send them to the cartography room?"
"They must prepare maps for me. Also, send laurels with hot water. We need to warm our feet."
Today I committed myself to solve two things. I must remove Barbara´s character from the plot. Now that she's gotten eyes on her, she should be able to name a replacement. Surely everyone will be impressed when I interview her.
At the same time, I wanted to suggest that in one of the five next five episodes, the party should finally attack the Werewolf Queen´s lair. When there is no direct attack, it damages the reputation of both parties. Plotting, oh, plotting.
Maybe I'm abusing the possibilities of virtual reality, but we live in an even worse distortion of the truth. Like Weatherby´s lecture on the civil rights movement.
"The government is a cog of reason, and that cog alone has to decide when to rewrite human rights policy. When people like Martin Luther King and his supporters kindly petitioned the government, it was only up to their formulation and the governing bodies to decide when to comply."
No one in the class wanted to point out that they remembered it differently.
The truth is frequently more important than human´s life. That´s why I think Therese´s condition for Jenine je self-righteous bullshit
Therese, if one us doesn´t cooperate, the entire boat sinks," Stacey said.
"She could have kill as all," Therese repeated the earlier accusation. "She is not our friend, she simply does what suits her and then is thinking why it was right!"
"No, I thought beforehands it is good if I will not be cooking and screwing here," Jenine said, exhausted.
She will never turn herself in, and it may take weeks for Stacey to soften Therese and Barbara. She might feel bad about betraying their trust, but I wasn't going to let everything we worked for go to waste. Sadly, Therese didn't tell me the details, but I guessed that her mighty contact was the only woman she was hanging out with besides us - Larissa Lewandowska. All I have to do was stop her on a weekend walk in the park.
"Howdy, lady! How about I know where Jenine Thompson is, and she needs your help?"
Lewandowska walked around me and stroked the back of my neck. “I would ask you why she con-fided in that little Loyalist rat, lass.”
"Wait,” I called for her. "I also have contact with Richard Neumann!”
"He's sending you ice cream, isn't he?" she joked, laughing at her joke for a minute.
The cow demands proof, so I'll probably make it for her. In the meantime, my ingenuity has been fuelled by homework in biology and androcentrism. Flipping through encyclopedias of marine life, I became overcome with envy of clownfish, where individuals mature into females, and selected males change sex earlier to lead the school. If humans reproduced this way, there would not be gender discrimination.
The homework on androcentrism, constantly defending its logic, has perhaps 200 conditions, with Weatherby emphasizing that we could always ask him if we had any questions. Of course, we felt that we would have to admit we were just stupid girls and needed help.
One of the most difficult conditions this time was that we were to concentrate on androcentric literature written by women. So-so digestible was the relatively new Elizabeth Chiswick. She built her views about the family around the basic thesis that 'hierarchy is what makes a relationship beautiful.' I kept coming back to this simple sentence because I couldn't find a way to refute it. Rather, I expanded its scope until I exhausted it and got to the point. I packed up my homework and was about to leave the library when I heard a smacking sound. I went to the nearest shelves and looked around furtively. I saw Cabrera and Dr. Beck pressed against each other, kissing for a long time. Cabrera was wearing a dress that was strangely neither short nor see-through, yet suggested that its owner was available for sale. The white fabric, crisscrossed with gold latticework and strapless, looked like the only thing holding it in place massive breasts. Beck clawed at them, his tuxedo crushing against her as he locked her leg with his knees. I was thrilled as they turned around, and I couldn't help but admire his thighs and shapely ass.
The sexologist pushed his lover between two massive bookshelves. I followed them discreetly from the other side and pulled up a stool. They had no shame here, so why should I?
I removed a few books from the shelf and saw Cabrera folding her skirt on the table. Lately, the Heirs often don't give back chastity belts to their mistresses, but Cabrera wasn´t protecting her pussy with anything "I already pleased you, and you pleased me," the prostitute sighed. "Now, let's try to pretend we both have an exam!"
Beck made himself comfortable in front of her, and it seemed as if his cock was constantly reaching forward. I couldn't massage the front with my chastity belt very well, but I moved the panties to the back and began slapping my ass rhythmically. There was an exhilarating feeling of guilt, but it couldn't compare to having someone hold you and subjugate you uncompromisingly. I couldn't even apply enough force to keep it from rattling.
Cabrera, meanwhile, arched back on the table, responding to Beck's humps with her whole body as if she were riding a toboggan. Her hands, driven by pleasure, felt the muscles on his back and, at times, held his waist, urging him to thrust harder. Meanwhile, the man took her breasts out of her cleavage, apparently trying to delay the climax. My ass felt cheated, longing for what the pussy of Cabrera was now getting.
I remembered how I recently had to play their daughter.
“Zitiee, when you take a boy to your room, try to be aware of where he looks at you most of the time so that you know what part of your clothes to take off the last time. It will be a more attractive secret for him. Act like a little girl. Then he will feel superior, and his testosterone will rise. However, use your body as flexibly as possible. More like a well-functioning doll with a key in the back."
New Family Week didn't always teach how to honor one´s parents honestly.
"Dad, what if my husband has a crush on our daughter?"
Beck preferred to drink after a question of that kind.
"Then you must prove your claim convincingly to the Bureau of Sexual Morality. If proven, your husband will go to prison for life. You and your daughter will work for the Bureau, each until marriage. New one in your case."
I wasn't going to give him a break.
"What if we get harassed by a superior in the Bureau?"
Beck stroked my hair. "They already have courses on how to sexually use their employees considerately."
I left burning with desire, however, Cabrera caught me at the door again. It was embarrassing to look at her face now, but luckily she didn't seem to notice. "Woodroof, don't forget we're doing politics at Mayson's tomorrow!"
I nodded as if I knew, but my mind was elsewhere. I felt like Montserrat when I didn't want to participate in Stacey's argument with Therese in the room, and instead, I quickly unlocked my chastity belt and tried all the fingers in my wet hole, one after the other, sometimes sticking even two.
I continued with breaks long after dark. The babysitters used to masturbate boys to help them sleep, and I wouldn't have slept tonight without it. I kept seeing the tension on Beck and what the guy was able to do with Cabrera. Who would I want to do it with? Certainly not with Mayson, or Weatherby, but maybe with Malcolm.
We Loyalists could only eat half a ham baguette for breakfast and then hurry to the principal's office. Mayson looked as if he hadn't eaten anything at all, as to not throw up. He glanced at me for a moment, but otherwise, he preferred to focus on the glittering flashes of his chandelier and didn´t bend down to meet us at all. "Don't sit. You'll be waiting for the elected representatives."
Prefect ordered Mayson to consult with the Privileged and the Heirs on the running of the Tower from now on. For the first time, someone voted for someone here, even though the selection hardly coincides with decent persons. No matter what, politics is always dirty, and I was glad to be able to participate in the Coordination Council in its formation ("Supreme Chancellor, Delegates of the Senate...").
"Turn around and bow!"
It wasn't until we were staring at the floor that he let people into the office, most of whom I knew. Cabrera, carrying himself proudly as always. Her roommate Olivia with an unreadable expression on her face. Claudia Fleischer, brazenly defiant. They lined up to Mayson's left.
The Heirs were represented by Cruz, who couldn't miss this event, a fat boy with short legs, and a girl with Drag King charm and only slightly grown hair in ponytails.
"Mr. Director, we come before you in a spirit of reconciliation and hope for cooperation," Cruz said, ceremoniously naming the council members. When he reached his side, he revealed that his companions were Earnest Randell and Oriona Termen.
“Thank you for coming.” Mayson didn't even look at Cruz. He was addressing Cabrera and her party. "I have not yet given the younger Loyalists time to choose representatives, as the question is largely impractical. Miss Pignon has become a venerable mother, so it is necessary to protect her. If she desires anything, any of the female lectors, or Miss Rosenstein, or Miss Arnolph will interpret her over-the-top demands. Mrs. Cabrera already represents the Loyalists. So, with the results I know, I'm asking our student girls to keep only the Misses Woodroof and Butcher here."
I was pleased that three of my classmates had to leave. I could finally sit down with a sense of grander political superiority. I am becoming someone like Jenine. Now, to be just as brave.
We finally sat in our chairs, and Mayson cleared his throat loudly, drowning out the sounds of the others as they settled down.
"As we all understood, the Prefect gave us the freedom to participate in the workings of our mechanism, but at the same time, he gave us the confidence to silence the skeptics and fill in the blanks. The fugitive assassin had still not been caught and this information could not be withheld. I know that you have not yet used up all your resources, so you have a free hand for me. At least the Prefect will know that you have done what you could. Early next year, you will speak to Mr. Manabe, whom I know better than I wish to. I have explained to him that many of the women we have here are too dangerous to take part in the normal running of society. This incident demonstrated that. I hope you can show him that you are imparting some values to them, not just practicing with them in bed ."
"You have already run away from us," Oriona reminded him, raising both hands, clenched into fists. “We will frighten every other enemy of the Prefect and confirm who the Princeps can appoint as his deputy.”
"They'll be afraid of you," Mayson said. "But you know, you can't just scare the enemy off the battlefield. You have to get ahead of them and plunder their hometown. That's why the real strategists, like me, will be needed. Prefect hasn't told me the details of his plans yet, but he's going to ask a lot of us. If the force of argument and some people won´t work, you will use your fervor against our so-called brothers and show them that you are the Prefect's army. As you have done in this room.”
"We have not lost our honor through faithful service," said Cruz. "We will only gain more of it." He emphasized every word of the last sentence. "You threw it away."
That was it. In the room sat four women who were still inmates. If Mayson was angry, Heirs won't be ones paying for it.
I raised my hand.
"As far as I know, Mr. Principal's instructions to the pilot have not been made public. Unless we are certain that he wanted to leave the compound, it is not so illogical to assume that he only wanted to exit a small office where he was in danger."
Lydia looked at me with disdain, and the Heirs giggled without opening their mouths. However, Mayson began to follow me. The discussion about his honor was over, and Mayson kissed the hands of the two ladies as we parted. Cabrera and me.
"Fellow Principal," I paused in the doorway. "I may know how to improve your image. "The whole controversy started the moment you refused to connect Ms. Pignon with her soon-to-be relatives."
"Right," Mayson growled.
"I could prepare a special edition of the show for you."
It's never too late to ingratiate yourself.
Zita
Magnificent Chaos, residing in the nether,
Come to erase all names,
bring forth the disorder,
blind us in darkness.
Let us starve in the fog,
for that is better than living in lies!
I uttered a silent, self-created prayer in the chapel of the Trojan castle, half-sane and glamorously dressed by my virtual father´s servants. I can´t eat in my fantasy, but I wish they´d made the lime green skirt out of sugar.
Pious Zeena," my satyr butler addressed me. "Your adventurous court ladies have arrived. Shall they join you in worship, or shall I send them to the cartography room?"
"They must prepare maps for me. Also, send laurels with hot water. We need to warm our feet."
Today I committed myself to solve two things. I must remove Barbara´s character from the plot. Now that she's gotten eyes on her, she should be able to name a replacement. Surely everyone will be impressed when I interview her.
At the same time, I wanted to suggest that in one of the five next five episodes, the party should finally attack the Werewolf Queen´s lair. When there is no direct attack, it damages the reputation of both parties. Plotting, oh, plotting.
Maybe I'm abusing the possibilities of virtual reality, but we live in an even worse distortion of the truth. Like Weatherby´s lecture on the civil rights movement.
"The government is a cog of reason, and that cog alone has to decide when to rewrite human rights policy. When people like Martin Luther King and his supporters kindly petitioned the government, it was only up to their formulation and the governing bodies to decide when to comply."
No one in the class wanted to point out that they remembered it differently.
The truth is frequently more important than human´s life. That´s why I think Therese´s condition for Jenine je self-righteous bullshit
Therese, if one us doesn´t cooperate, the entire boat sinks," Stacey said.
"She could have kill as all," Therese repeated the earlier accusation. "She is not our friend, she simply does what suits her and then is thinking why it was right!"
"No, I thought beforehands it is good if I will not be cooking and screwing here," Jenine said, exhausted.
She will never turn herself in, and it may take weeks for Stacey to soften Therese and Barbara. She might feel bad about betraying their trust, but I wasn't going to let everything we worked for go to waste. Sadly, Therese didn't tell me the details, but I guessed that her mighty contact was the only woman she was hanging out with besides us - Larissa Lewandowska. All I have to do was stop her on a weekend walk in the park.
"Howdy, lady! How about I know where Jenine Thompson is, and she needs your help?"
Lewandowska walked around me and stroked the back of my neck. “I would ask you why she con-fided in that little Loyalist rat, lass.”
"Wait,” I called for her. "I also have contact with Richard Neumann!”
"He's sending you ice cream, isn't he?" she joked, laughing at her joke for a minute.
The cow demands proof, so I'll probably make it for her. In the meantime, my ingenuity has been fuelled by homework in biology and androcentrism. Flipping through encyclopedias of marine life, I became overcome with envy of clownfish, where individuals mature into females, and selected males change sex earlier to lead the school. If humans reproduced this way, there would not be gender discrimination.
The homework on androcentrism, constantly defending its logic, has perhaps 200 conditions, with Weatherby emphasizing that we could always ask him if we had any questions. Of course, we felt that we would have to admit we were just stupid girls and needed help.
One of the most difficult conditions this time was that we were to concentrate on androcentric literature written by women. So-so digestible was the relatively new Elizabeth Chiswick. She built her views about the family around the basic thesis that 'hierarchy is what makes a relationship beautiful.' I kept coming back to this simple sentence because I couldn't find a way to refute it. Rather, I expanded its scope until I exhausted it and got to the point. I packed up my homework and was about to leave the library when I heard a smacking sound. I went to the nearest shelves and looked around furtively. I saw Cabrera and Dr. Beck pressed against each other, kissing for a long time. Cabrera was wearing a dress that was strangely neither short nor see-through, yet suggested that its owner was available for sale. The white fabric, crisscrossed with gold latticework and strapless, looked like the only thing holding it in place massive breasts. Beck clawed at them, his tuxedo crushing against her as he locked her leg with his knees. I was thrilled as they turned around, and I couldn't help but admire his thighs and shapely ass.
The sexologist pushed his lover between two massive bookshelves. I followed them discreetly from the other side and pulled up a stool. They had no shame here, so why should I?
I removed a few books from the shelf and saw Cabrera folding her skirt on the table. Lately, the Heirs often don't give back chastity belts to their mistresses, but Cabrera wasn´t protecting her pussy with anything "I already pleased you, and you pleased me," the prostitute sighed. "Now, let's try to pretend we both have an exam!"
Beck made himself comfortable in front of her, and it seemed as if his cock was constantly reaching forward. I couldn't massage the front with my chastity belt very well, but I moved the panties to the back and began slapping my ass rhythmically. There was an exhilarating feeling of guilt, but it couldn't compare to having someone hold you and subjugate you uncompromisingly. I couldn't even apply enough force to keep it from rattling.
Cabrera, meanwhile, arched back on the table, responding to Beck's humps with her whole body as if she were riding a toboggan. Her hands, driven by pleasure, felt the muscles on his back and, at times, held his waist, urging him to thrust harder. Meanwhile, the man took her breasts out of her cleavage, apparently trying to delay the climax. My ass felt cheated, longing for what the pussy of Cabrera was now getting.
I remembered how I recently had to play their daughter.
“Zitiee, when you take a boy to your room, try to be aware of where he looks at you most of the time so that you know what part of your clothes to take off the last time. It will be a more attractive secret for him. Act like a little girl. Then he will feel superior, and his testosterone will rise. However, use your body as flexibly as possible. More like a well-functioning doll with a key in the back."
New Family Week didn't always teach how to honor one´s parents honestly.
"Dad, what if my husband has a crush on our daughter?"
Beck preferred to drink after a question of that kind.
"Then you must prove your claim convincingly to the Bureau of Sexual Morality. If proven, your husband will go to prison for life. You and your daughter will work for the Bureau, each until marriage. New one in your case."
I wasn't going to give him a break.
"What if we get harassed by a superior in the Bureau?"
Beck stroked my hair. "They already have courses on how to sexually use their employees considerately."
I left burning with desire, however, Cabrera caught me at the door again. It was embarrassing to look at her face now, but luckily she didn't seem to notice. "Woodroof, don't forget we're doing politics at Mayson's tomorrow!"
I nodded as if I knew, but my mind was elsewhere. I felt like Montserrat when I didn't want to participate in Stacey's argument with Therese in the room, and instead, I quickly unlocked my chastity belt and tried all the fingers in my wet hole, one after the other, sometimes sticking even two.
I continued with breaks long after dark. The babysitters used to masturbate boys to help them sleep, and I wouldn't have slept tonight without it. I kept seeing the tension on Beck and what the guy was able to do with Cabrera. Who would I want to do it with? Certainly not with Mayson, or Weatherby, but maybe with Malcolm.
We Loyalists could only eat half a ham baguette for breakfast and then hurry to the principal's office. Mayson looked as if he hadn't eaten anything at all, as to not throw up. He glanced at me for a moment, but otherwise, he preferred to focus on the glittering flashes of his chandelier and didn´t bend down to meet us at all. "Don't sit. You'll be waiting for the elected representatives."
Prefect ordered Mayson to consult with the Privileged and the Heirs on the running of the Tower from now on. For the first time, someone voted for someone here, even though the selection hardly coincides with decent persons. No matter what, politics is always dirty, and I was glad to be able to participate in the Coordination Council in its formation ("Supreme Chancellor, Delegates of the Senate...").
"Turn around and bow!"
It wasn't until we were staring at the floor that he let people into the office, most of whom I knew. Cabrera, carrying himself proudly as always. Her roommate Olivia with an unreadable expression on her face. Claudia Fleischer, brazenly defiant. They lined up to Mayson's left.
The Heirs were represented by Cruz, who couldn't miss this event, a fat boy with short legs, and a girl with Drag King charm and only slightly grown hair in ponytails.
"Mr. Director, we come before you in a spirit of reconciliation and hope for cooperation," Cruz said, ceremoniously naming the council members. When he reached his side, he revealed that his companions were Earnest Randell and Oriona Termen.
“Thank you for coming.” Mayson didn't even look at Cruz. He was addressing Cabrera and her party. "I have not yet given the younger Loyalists time to choose representatives, as the question is largely impractical. Miss Pignon has become a venerable mother, so it is necessary to protect her. If she desires anything, any of the female lectors, or Miss Rosenstein, or Miss Arnolph will interpret her over-the-top demands. Mrs. Cabrera already represents the Loyalists. So, with the results I know, I'm asking our student girls to keep only the Misses Woodroof and Butcher here."
I was pleased that three of my classmates had to leave. I could finally sit down with a sense of grander political superiority. I am becoming someone like Jenine. Now, to be just as brave.
We finally sat in our chairs, and Mayson cleared his throat loudly, drowning out the sounds of the others as they settled down.
"As we all understood, the Prefect gave us the freedom to participate in the workings of our mechanism, but at the same time, he gave us the confidence to silence the skeptics and fill in the blanks. The fugitive assassin had still not been caught and this information could not be withheld. I know that you have not yet used up all your resources, so you have a free hand for me. At least the Prefect will know that you have done what you could. Early next year, you will speak to Mr. Manabe, whom I know better than I wish to. I have explained to him that many of the women we have here are too dangerous to take part in the normal running of society. This incident demonstrated that. I hope you can show him that you are imparting some values to them, not just practicing with them in bed ."
"You have already run away from us," Oriona reminded him, raising both hands, clenched into fists. “We will frighten every other enemy of the Prefect and confirm who the Princeps can appoint as his deputy.”
"They'll be afraid of you," Mayson said. "But you know, you can't just scare the enemy off the battlefield. You have to get ahead of them and plunder their hometown. That's why the real strategists, like me, will be needed. Prefect hasn't told me the details of his plans yet, but he's going to ask a lot of us. If the force of argument and some people won´t work, you will use your fervor against our so-called brothers and show them that you are the Prefect's army. As you have done in this room.”
"We have not lost our honor through faithful service," said Cruz. "We will only gain more of it." He emphasized every word of the last sentence. "You threw it away."
That was it. In the room sat four women who were still inmates. If Mayson was angry, Heirs won't be ones paying for it.
I raised my hand.
"As far as I know, Mr. Principal's instructions to the pilot have not been made public. Unless we are certain that he wanted to leave the compound, it is not so illogical to assume that he only wanted to exit a small office where he was in danger."
Lydia looked at me with disdain, and the Heirs giggled without opening their mouths. However, Mayson began to follow me. The discussion about his honor was over, and Mayson kissed the hands of the two ladies as we parted. Cabrera and me.
"Fellow Principal," I paused in the doorway. "I may know how to improve your image. "The whole controversy started the moment you refused to connect Ms. Pignon with her soon-to-be relatives."
"Right," Mayson growled.
"I could prepare a special edition of the show for you."
It's never too late to ingratiate yourself.
Last edited by a moderator:
Miras
Tribune
6-6-2
Naturally, I presented it differently to Barbara. "Mayson finally agreed!" I patted her back. You're going to talk to your in-laws for the first time. If you don't mind us showing it at breakfast."
"I am a public figure, after all." Barbara also received the good news in a thoroughly jaded manner. "Zita, if it's in the air, I'll get Mayson's script in advance. He'll end up pushing through what I refused to serve him."
I was embarrassed and unable to deny it.
"I´m not going to have fun with them for the amusement of others," she refused. "But I can invite someone to record a message with me.”
That "someone" turned out to be Louisa Polivka. I had to put up with her giving me light taps on the collarbone as a sign of affection, which was her way of thanking me when we took her in virtual reality to increasingly realistic sets where we filmed Shieldmaidens Raid.
"Your son was able to bring order to my life in a way that no one else in my family could," Louisa dictated on the recording. "As for me, he's here for us, and, in Barbara's case, that's many times truer."
Barbara took her hand. "First of all, thanks to Enzo, I have found a great friend, Louisa. It is to her that I would like to hand over my role in the Shieldmaidens. More than ever, I thank the management of our educational institute, led by Daniel Mayson, for opening a line of communication that will soon become two-way."
"I was thinking about something more useful from you, but I'll take the record to the Principal," I pointed out.
As if I didn't have enough sexual frustration from yesterday, I found out that Cabrera had returned to Mayson. She was wearing perhaps fifty layers of make-up, her dark blouse wrinkled by the heavy breathing, while her bare legs dangled limply as far as I could see. The Principal was lying in his chair rather than sitting, but he looked the more content of the two.
"We're resting right now, miss, but I can make some time for you."
With a forced smile and an apology, I handed him the recording. Mayson did not spare the keyboard from one punch, but he was already speaking softly. "Miss Pignon got used to setting the terms and designing her products. The exact opposite of how a girl should behave here. Perhaps I have failed as a principal, don't you think, miss?"
"You haven't failed," I stated forcefully. "The system has failed. "People like her should not be exposed to men unconvinced of the good values.“
Mayson straightened up in his chair and crossed his fingers. "Of course, Mr. Cruz and his gang, those are convinced of the good values."
Now I was afraid of what the answer should be, but I had not to hesitate. "They say they are, but they have used them to their advantage."
Mayson reached out so that one hand was caressing Cabrera from her ass to the nape of her neck and the other was squeezing my earlobe. "Miss Pignon and I will be saying goodbye in a month, and we'll have to watch out for Cruz, but luckily you'll be here to support me." He found enough strength to get up, walk around the table and kiss Cabrera on the nose. “Agatha, show Miss Woodroof the new secretarial duties.“
Mayson and Cabrera could hurt me, but for the time being, they can mostly benefit me. I looked at Cabrera with respect even as she was dressed, but after sex, she was in a joking mood. "it's okay to skip the lessons but be careful. Girls who don't learn will grow up to be prostitutes! Hahaha!"
She showed me the to-do list on the computer and could tell that for the first time here, I wasn´t interested.
"What's eating you?" she asked me in the corridor.
My hormones were raging again. If I had told her "I want to be as fucked as you are", that would have been an accurate description of one of the secondary causes.
"I'm angry with Therese," I said. The best lie is the truth.
Cabrera stopped in her tracks. "I completely forgot that Kelly was your roommate. We're kinda cousins through her."
I laughed out loud with her, even though I didn't think it was funny. "Sometimes she says something smart," Cabrera continued. "But it doesn't happen often, and smart talk is ineffective. You need something to cheer you up."
"Well, by sex," I conceded. "Not with you, of course. That's out of the question."
"Are you jealous?" She jerked her head in Mayson´s direction.
"Yes," I confirmed meekly.
Cabrera leaned to my ear and whispered: "Ekström can handle it. I'll show you how to order a well-built boy."
Well, I won't say that it wouldn't appeal to me, I thought I wouldn't use it anyway, but it's always nice to have more options.
With every step I took after Cabrera, I felt like, I was using her sexual altruism for something heroic. She showed me the secrets of Ekström on the computer in the co-lectors' lounge. She sang "Ten Green Bottles" behind the keyboard, and I thought of Barbara showing off her spy skills. All I had to do was notice that Cabrera had typed A-U-R-O-R-A-B, and I could guess the rest of the lyrics, just as I could catch the sequence of four numbers.
Cabrera was not very bright. She opened the files and information intended for Ekström right in front of me, directly from the Prefect himself. She had no qualms about confirming an open secret.
I didn't understand the shortest messages. One recent read: "Don't forget the mare from Norway."
Cabrera printed something out for me. "Contacts that mean pleasure. Ekstöm can have any warden dial this phone, and they'll send her the guys who patrol here, and she doesn't always send them for professional services. They will take care of anyone who connects with them that way."
Since Mayson didn't need me for anything, I had to march to the workshop.
As winter approached, we received more and more knitting exercises, from gloves to jumpers. We sweated at the tables, our brains working overtime from the assignment of a jumper with some popular logo. I wanted to do the Wonder Woman motif the most, but due to the unfortunate controversy, I replaced the Amazon warrior with Shazam.
During the break, we had the opportunity to change the wool. I didn't need it, but a trained female hand reached my arm from behind and handed me something.
"Girl cut it for me. That was a bad piece."
I quickly clenched my fist. The voice belonged to Lewandowska, and I immediately thought of our recent brief conversation. I looked at the drag she was holding in front of me. A piece of wool showed a gray box with a small window. I assumed it was a message and had nothing to do with Homemaking.
"Ladies, here's your chance to improve your grades and avoid a sharpened flogging," Malcolm greeted us in the open air, unprotected by anything. Our master's hand waved over metal cabinets, not too dissimilar to either an excessively big tombstone or a small mound. "I need volunteers to pair up. You will be restrained inside, and at the push of a button, you will inflict random torture on your neighbor for forty-five minutes. All impulses will be recorded so we know you are not idle. By the way, peeing or soiling yourself is punishable by the aforementioned sharpened flogging. "
I understood the message and, in accordance with it, I went to Lewandowska in pair. The discomfort inside was maximized. Straps for our legs, a special saddle for behind and genitals full of tiny tools, and our heads held by stocks in front of the window. In addition, the solid structure itself was oppressive, and you could only be thankful for the cloudy weather, as the sun would have cooked us in it. I hesitantly reached for the one-button remote control with my hand. "How did you know about the exercise?" I said quietly enough out. Lewandowska had to press her button before answering. A small circular saw turned in my asshole. I was crying honestly and soon lost my breath as the thing tore at me in my gut. I leaned against the wall behind me. It shouldn't even be possible to shit myself like this, but I was afraid of Malcolm's punishment for leaking urine. At least answer it, dammit!
"I know it the same way I saw you and Cabrera," Lewandowska said. "There are little robots hiding in my mucous membrane, some of them interfering with the camera system. I saw you are clever when you can open the Ekström´s files so well..."
Now I pushed the button myself. I heard a quick thump. "Thanks for the slap. Better than caffeine."
"That means you're…"
"Yes, Polish spy. From now on, I will ask you for all the information you have. And we will start again with Ekström."
A fork with a sensor came down to me, buried itself into my nose, and raised its head after a painful penetration. But it couldn't spoil my day.
“I can't get into the folder anymore,” I explained to her. “Stacey can.” I pushed the button again.
"This machine is more masculine than Arthur," Lewandowska praised the unseen effect.
Torment couldn't rob me of the epiphany and breakthrough I had achieved. I clung to it through the burning and scratching, the stabbing and punching in the face, which only ended when Malcolm freed us and isolated the stinking boxes.
In the room, I alerted Stacey, and things began to move. My roommate, as the new PE co-lector, opened the files of the Prefect's darling, and with her almost photographic memory, she caught the messages and recited them to Lewandowska. We had a makeshift picnic in the park. Stacey filled her in on everything about Jenine's hiding place and what she had worked up through Brunkow. I emphasized my suspicions about Neumann's activities on the network.
Even on Stacey's part, I felt a sense of condemnation at the time, a slight remorse that we hadn't made Therese change her mind, but to be fair, how much time did we have? I think we did the best thing when we led Georgianna to our Polish friend and asked her to lead her to Jenine.
...Toserban96: If you want to fully understand patriotic symbols before they were so understood I suggest you read some of the literary work of Maggie Stifvater. Let´s see who can guess which of her books I'm referring to first!
I haven't logged on to Sleipnir Neighs for a long time. This time it was probably out of a sense of depraved pleasure that I am the only one who knows the true identity of the moderator and that his hobby may end up being his undoing.
I was feeling naughty today, so I let my imagination run wild, and PM´d him.
"I'll always support the state, but, you know, I'm black. It makes me a bit stressed when they are selling people."
His reply came almost immediately.
Don't worry about it. Race does not determine function. Gender does.
After such comments, my desire to connect with men was extinguished, and I only used paper with Cabrera's numbers as a bookmark.
"We don't have many options on a personal or political level," lamented Earnest Randell, his voice coming from the distance of a nearby chair. “If no specific culprit is punished for the murder of Enzo Romano, this land will be a sacrificial altar of our honor and dignity."
What about women's honor and dignity? The knees of husbands all over the country became their sacrificial altar.
Naturally, I presented it differently to Barbara. "Mayson finally agreed!" I patted her back. You're going to talk to your in-laws for the first time. If you don't mind us showing it at breakfast."
"I am a public figure, after all." Barbara also received the good news in a thoroughly jaded manner. "Zita, if it's in the air, I'll get Mayson's script in advance. He'll end up pushing through what I refused to serve him."
I was embarrassed and unable to deny it.
"I´m not going to have fun with them for the amusement of others," she refused. "But I can invite someone to record a message with me.”
That "someone" turned out to be Louisa Polivka. I had to put up with her giving me light taps on the collarbone as a sign of affection, which was her way of thanking me when we took her in virtual reality to increasingly realistic sets where we filmed Shieldmaidens Raid.
"Your son was able to bring order to my life in a way that no one else in my family could," Louisa dictated on the recording. "As for me, he's here for us, and, in Barbara's case, that's many times truer."
Barbara took her hand. "First of all, thanks to Enzo, I have found a great friend, Louisa. It is to her that I would like to hand over my role in the Shieldmaidens. More than ever, I thank the management of our educational institute, led by Daniel Mayson, for opening a line of communication that will soon become two-way."
"I was thinking about something more useful from you, but I'll take the record to the Principal," I pointed out.
As if I didn't have enough sexual frustration from yesterday, I found out that Cabrera had returned to Mayson. She was wearing perhaps fifty layers of make-up, her dark blouse wrinkled by the heavy breathing, while her bare legs dangled limply as far as I could see. The Principal was lying in his chair rather than sitting, but he looked the more content of the two.
"We're resting right now, miss, but I can make some time for you."
With a forced smile and an apology, I handed him the recording. Mayson did not spare the keyboard from one punch, but he was already speaking softly. "Miss Pignon got used to setting the terms and designing her products. The exact opposite of how a girl should behave here. Perhaps I have failed as a principal, don't you think, miss?"
"You haven't failed," I stated forcefully. "The system has failed. "People like her should not be exposed to men unconvinced of the good values.“
Mayson straightened up in his chair and crossed his fingers. "Of course, Mr. Cruz and his gang, those are convinced of the good values."
Now I was afraid of what the answer should be, but I had not to hesitate. "They say they are, but they have used them to their advantage."
Mayson reached out so that one hand was caressing Cabrera from her ass to the nape of her neck and the other was squeezing my earlobe. "Miss Pignon and I will be saying goodbye in a month, and we'll have to watch out for Cruz, but luckily you'll be here to support me." He found enough strength to get up, walk around the table and kiss Cabrera on the nose. “Agatha, show Miss Woodroof the new secretarial duties.“
Mayson and Cabrera could hurt me, but for the time being, they can mostly benefit me. I looked at Cabrera with respect even as she was dressed, but after sex, she was in a joking mood. "it's okay to skip the lessons but be careful. Girls who don't learn will grow up to be prostitutes! Hahaha!"
She showed me the to-do list on the computer and could tell that for the first time here, I wasn´t interested.
"What's eating you?" she asked me in the corridor.
My hormones were raging again. If I had told her "I want to be as fucked as you are", that would have been an accurate description of one of the secondary causes.
"I'm angry with Therese," I said. The best lie is the truth.
Cabrera stopped in her tracks. "I completely forgot that Kelly was your roommate. We're kinda cousins through her."
I laughed out loud with her, even though I didn't think it was funny. "Sometimes she says something smart," Cabrera continued. "But it doesn't happen often, and smart talk is ineffective. You need something to cheer you up."
"Well, by sex," I conceded. "Not with you, of course. That's out of the question."
"Are you jealous?" She jerked her head in Mayson´s direction.
"Yes," I confirmed meekly.
Cabrera leaned to my ear and whispered: "Ekström can handle it. I'll show you how to order a well-built boy."
Well, I won't say that it wouldn't appeal to me, I thought I wouldn't use it anyway, but it's always nice to have more options.
With every step I took after Cabrera, I felt like, I was using her sexual altruism for something heroic. She showed me the secrets of Ekström on the computer in the co-lectors' lounge. She sang "Ten Green Bottles" behind the keyboard, and I thought of Barbara showing off her spy skills. All I had to do was notice that Cabrera had typed A-U-R-O-R-A-B, and I could guess the rest of the lyrics, just as I could catch the sequence of four numbers.
Cabrera was not very bright. She opened the files and information intended for Ekström right in front of me, directly from the Prefect himself. She had no qualms about confirming an open secret.
I didn't understand the shortest messages. One recent read: "Don't forget the mare from Norway."
Cabrera printed something out for me. "Contacts that mean pleasure. Ekstöm can have any warden dial this phone, and they'll send her the guys who patrol here, and she doesn't always send them for professional services. They will take care of anyone who connects with them that way."
Since Mayson didn't need me for anything, I had to march to the workshop.
As winter approached, we received more and more knitting exercises, from gloves to jumpers. We sweated at the tables, our brains working overtime from the assignment of a jumper with some popular logo. I wanted to do the Wonder Woman motif the most, but due to the unfortunate controversy, I replaced the Amazon warrior with Shazam.
During the break, we had the opportunity to change the wool. I didn't need it, but a trained female hand reached my arm from behind and handed me something.
"Girl cut it for me. That was a bad piece."
I quickly clenched my fist. The voice belonged to Lewandowska, and I immediately thought of our recent brief conversation. I looked at the drag she was holding in front of me. A piece of wool showed a gray box with a small window. I assumed it was a message and had nothing to do with Homemaking.
"Ladies, here's your chance to improve your grades and avoid a sharpened flogging," Malcolm greeted us in the open air, unprotected by anything. Our master's hand waved over metal cabinets, not too dissimilar to either an excessively big tombstone or a small mound. "I need volunteers to pair up. You will be restrained inside, and at the push of a button, you will inflict random torture on your neighbor for forty-five minutes. All impulses will be recorded so we know you are not idle. By the way, peeing or soiling yourself is punishable by the aforementioned sharpened flogging. "
I understood the message and, in accordance with it, I went to Lewandowska in pair. The discomfort inside was maximized. Straps for our legs, a special saddle for behind and genitals full of tiny tools, and our heads held by stocks in front of the window. In addition, the solid structure itself was oppressive, and you could only be thankful for the cloudy weather, as the sun would have cooked us in it. I hesitantly reached for the one-button remote control with my hand. "How did you know about the exercise?" I said quietly enough out. Lewandowska had to press her button before answering. A small circular saw turned in my asshole. I was crying honestly and soon lost my breath as the thing tore at me in my gut. I leaned against the wall behind me. It shouldn't even be possible to shit myself like this, but I was afraid of Malcolm's punishment for leaking urine. At least answer it, dammit!
"I know it the same way I saw you and Cabrera," Lewandowska said. "There are little robots hiding in my mucous membrane, some of them interfering with the camera system. I saw you are clever when you can open the Ekström´s files so well..."
Now I pushed the button myself. I heard a quick thump. "Thanks for the slap. Better than caffeine."
"That means you're…"
"Yes, Polish spy. From now on, I will ask you for all the information you have. And we will start again with Ekström."
A fork with a sensor came down to me, buried itself into my nose, and raised its head after a painful penetration. But it couldn't spoil my day.
“I can't get into the folder anymore,” I explained to her. “Stacey can.” I pushed the button again.
"This machine is more masculine than Arthur," Lewandowska praised the unseen effect.
Torment couldn't rob me of the epiphany and breakthrough I had achieved. I clung to it through the burning and scratching, the stabbing and punching in the face, which only ended when Malcolm freed us and isolated the stinking boxes.
In the room, I alerted Stacey, and things began to move. My roommate, as the new PE co-lector, opened the files of the Prefect's darling, and with her almost photographic memory, she caught the messages and recited them to Lewandowska. We had a makeshift picnic in the park. Stacey filled her in on everything about Jenine's hiding place and what she had worked up through Brunkow. I emphasized my suspicions about Neumann's activities on the network.
Even on Stacey's part, I felt a sense of condemnation at the time, a slight remorse that we hadn't made Therese change her mind, but to be fair, how much time did we have? I think we did the best thing when we led Georgianna to our Polish friend and asked her to lead her to Jenine.
...Toserban96: If you want to fully understand patriotic symbols before they were so understood I suggest you read some of the literary work of Maggie Stifvater. Let´s see who can guess which of her books I'm referring to first!
I haven't logged on to Sleipnir Neighs for a long time. This time it was probably out of a sense of depraved pleasure that I am the only one who knows the true identity of the moderator and that his hobby may end up being his undoing.
I was feeling naughty today, so I let my imagination run wild, and PM´d him.
"I'll always support the state, but, you know, I'm black. It makes me a bit stressed when they are selling people."
His reply came almost immediately.
Don't worry about it. Race does not determine function. Gender does.
After such comments, my desire to connect with men was extinguished, and I only used paper with Cabrera's numbers as a bookmark.
"We don't have many options on a personal or political level," lamented Earnest Randell, his voice coming from the distance of a nearby chair. “If no specific culprit is punished for the murder of Enzo Romano, this land will be a sacrificial altar of our honor and dignity."
What about women's honor and dignity? The knees of husbands all over the country became their sacrificial altar.
Miras
Tribune
6-6-3
Just outside Mayson's office, Georgianna took my hand and shouted, "You overreacted at the Mass Meat Production. I have to give you a personal consultation before Malcolm sees the results."
Mass meat Production was a simulation in which we had to get used to the position of the goods from the warehouse to display on the shelves. I didn't know why I should repeat it, but Lewandowska´s presence explained it at least in part. "At certain times of the night, some of my robots turn into a walkie-talkie and communicate directly with other agents in my head," Polish explained. "Today, however, I would like to introduce some mediators into your system so you can participate. You will most likely continue to be useful to my colleagues."
I didn't know whether I was more flattered or in a state of awe at the promise of the experience to come. On the spot, I shed the excess layers and buttoned the suit up to my neck. Georgianna began furiously typing lines of commands through the control mechanism embedded in the wall. The agent only answered a few questions from the system of the protecting balustrade.
"I have tuned into your simulation, mistress," Lewandowska said. "It remains for you to grant me the authority to modify the program."
"I have just granted it to you," Georgianna said, turning off the terminal.
"The whole update will be complete when we are all connected."
I waited to see what he would do. As soon as Lewandowska wrapped herself in sealskin, the spy whispered the famous words of her anthem - "Jeszcze Polska nie zginęła", and I could have sworn my ears picked up a crackling hum.
I completed the connection to feel the result as soon as possible. The virtual space slowly changed. Objects of the large-scale meat factory were recognizable by their shape, but their surface crumbled into colored sand. The mix on the floor, ceiling, and most of the walls was replaced by black. Only on one side did light seep into the "hall" through holes arranged in a circular pattern. It was probably supposed to remind me of the headphones of old.
I looked around. I and Georgianna looked authentic here, only without clothes. Lewandowska looked... Like part of an exhibition on the absurdity of modern art. She had a body a bit like a darker C-3PO, and the front of a locomotive instead of a head. She pointed upwards. "Now we must wait for my colleague to start the transmission."
There was a bright flash in the darkness above us. The huge golden triangle appeared in its place. Others followed - squares, spirals, little angels. I realized I was looking at giant earrings. A female figure sat on each one, and their shapes changed regularly. Fat girls lost weight and then gained weight, long blonde hair turned black and stringy.
"Greetings from Agent Rocket," Larissa called to them. "First of all, I would like to thank Agent Tengu for interviewing Professor Zhan in her Princess Tower. I also know that Agent Swallow has hot news for us. However, you have all read the description of my findings, and we can probably agree that they take priority. "
"Agent Swallow here. I beg to differ," protested a machine voice above us. “I am grateful for Agent Rocket's discoveries, but my information concerns her deployment location and the events of the coming weeks."
"Okay, Agent Swallow, enlighten me," Larissa said calmly.
"Thank you. Prefect Green intends to announce his candidacy for Princeps in the next few days. As part of this, he has been trying to get dirt on other candidates or other members of the Brotherhood, and not too many attempts have been successful lately. We believe he plans to kidnap somebody, and intends to intern his victims in the facility from which Jenine Thompson escaped."
"I will follow up on reports from Green´s and Mayson's security instructions. I´m waiting for your information on the dates and identities of the abductees. But you had another message ready, didn't you?"
"Yes. I've already done it with three of my female colleagues. Now they continue to seduce guys for Green and are stealing everything he points to, but they're getting fed up with the way guys treat them, even in our workplace. I support them subtly. I want to motivate them to start complaining to their faces. We will see what comes out of that."
That impressed me. Maybe it would work here too.
"Good job, Agent Swallow. Have you made contact with Mr. Yoon yet?"
“I went through his list and found contacts for many girls who I know work for Green.”
"Agent Tooth Fairy, how did you handle my data package?"
"I must commend you! As for Cao and Neumann, we have suspected them of these activities for quite some time now, but from now on, we will be watching them more closely. Especially since we tracked down Neumann's computer thanks to you."
Lewandowska could laugh like a locomotive too. "I should introduce you to the girl who made it all possible. Zita, come here."
I stepped under the earrings. "Hello, Tooth-Fairy. I'm glad you exist, after all."
"But don't tell anyone," the undefined voice replied with unusual severity.
“Agent Rocket, as to your last point, which I was sure you were going to mention, tracking down Timothy Cooper was easy. We have prepared an application that will dial him up for you. Or rather for Jenine Thompson. You must contact her and arrange her extraction. We will send all the details in the attached appendices."
"That will be my next step!" Lewandowska declared.
"I demand extraction as well!" Georgianna said.
"We will include you in our plans," Agent Tooth-Fairy confirmed. "We can take Miss Woodroof as well. Larger operation would be risky. Don't forget that, Agent Rocket."
I couldn't resist any longer and asked something I didn't understand. "It's risky to talk to us. I'm glad Agent Rocket introduced us to you, but I don't know why you dare to tell us your plans and activities."
"Getting Jenine Thompson is a catch like no other for us," agent Tooth Fairy explained. "But we have one point that requires immediate action. We need someone with leadership influence to stop the search for her. The three of you need to think about it and do it. As long, as it doesn't cause a rift that could cost the innocent inmates. We know the local circumstances, but Rocket´s influence is still too indirect. We need a pretty face in the right place and the best idea."
The words of Agent Swallow guided me. "How about this…"
Just outside Mayson's office, Georgianna took my hand and shouted, "You overreacted at the Mass Meat Production. I have to give you a personal consultation before Malcolm sees the results."
Mass meat Production was a simulation in which we had to get used to the position of the goods from the warehouse to display on the shelves. I didn't know why I should repeat it, but Lewandowska´s presence explained it at least in part. "At certain times of the night, some of my robots turn into a walkie-talkie and communicate directly with other agents in my head," Polish explained. "Today, however, I would like to introduce some mediators into your system so you can participate. You will most likely continue to be useful to my colleagues."
I didn't know whether I was more flattered or in a state of awe at the promise of the experience to come. On the spot, I shed the excess layers and buttoned the suit up to my neck. Georgianna began furiously typing lines of commands through the control mechanism embedded in the wall. The agent only answered a few questions from the system of the protecting balustrade.
"I have tuned into your simulation, mistress," Lewandowska said. "It remains for you to grant me the authority to modify the program."
"I have just granted it to you," Georgianna said, turning off the terminal.
"The whole update will be complete when we are all connected."
I waited to see what he would do. As soon as Lewandowska wrapped herself in sealskin, the spy whispered the famous words of her anthem - "Jeszcze Polska nie zginęła", and I could have sworn my ears picked up a crackling hum.
I completed the connection to feel the result as soon as possible. The virtual space slowly changed. Objects of the large-scale meat factory were recognizable by their shape, but their surface crumbled into colored sand. The mix on the floor, ceiling, and most of the walls was replaced by black. Only on one side did light seep into the "hall" through holes arranged in a circular pattern. It was probably supposed to remind me of the headphones of old.
I looked around. I and Georgianna looked authentic here, only without clothes. Lewandowska looked... Like part of an exhibition on the absurdity of modern art. She had a body a bit like a darker C-3PO, and the front of a locomotive instead of a head. She pointed upwards. "Now we must wait for my colleague to start the transmission."
There was a bright flash in the darkness above us. The huge golden triangle appeared in its place. Others followed - squares, spirals, little angels. I realized I was looking at giant earrings. A female figure sat on each one, and their shapes changed regularly. Fat girls lost weight and then gained weight, long blonde hair turned black and stringy.
"Greetings from Agent Rocket," Larissa called to them. "First of all, I would like to thank Agent Tengu for interviewing Professor Zhan in her Princess Tower. I also know that Agent Swallow has hot news for us. However, you have all read the description of my findings, and we can probably agree that they take priority. "
"Agent Swallow here. I beg to differ," protested a machine voice above us. “I am grateful for Agent Rocket's discoveries, but my information concerns her deployment location and the events of the coming weeks."
"Okay, Agent Swallow, enlighten me," Larissa said calmly.
"Thank you. Prefect Green intends to announce his candidacy for Princeps in the next few days. As part of this, he has been trying to get dirt on other candidates or other members of the Brotherhood, and not too many attempts have been successful lately. We believe he plans to kidnap somebody, and intends to intern his victims in the facility from which Jenine Thompson escaped."
"I will follow up on reports from Green´s and Mayson's security instructions. I´m waiting for your information on the dates and identities of the abductees. But you had another message ready, didn't you?"
"Yes. I've already done it with three of my female colleagues. Now they continue to seduce guys for Green and are stealing everything he points to, but they're getting fed up with the way guys treat them, even in our workplace. I support them subtly. I want to motivate them to start complaining to their faces. We will see what comes out of that."
That impressed me. Maybe it would work here too.
"Good job, Agent Swallow. Have you made contact with Mr. Yoon yet?"
“I went through his list and found contacts for many girls who I know work for Green.”
"Agent Tooth Fairy, how did you handle my data package?"
"I must commend you! As for Cao and Neumann, we have suspected them of these activities for quite some time now, but from now on, we will be watching them more closely. Especially since we tracked down Neumann's computer thanks to you."
Lewandowska could laugh like a locomotive too. "I should introduce you to the girl who made it all possible. Zita, come here."
I stepped under the earrings. "Hello, Tooth-Fairy. I'm glad you exist, after all."
"But don't tell anyone," the undefined voice replied with unusual severity.
“Agent Rocket, as to your last point, which I was sure you were going to mention, tracking down Timothy Cooper was easy. We have prepared an application that will dial him up for you. Or rather for Jenine Thompson. You must contact her and arrange her extraction. We will send all the details in the attached appendices."
"That will be my next step!" Lewandowska declared.
"I demand extraction as well!" Georgianna said.
"We will include you in our plans," Agent Tooth-Fairy confirmed. "We can take Miss Woodroof as well. Larger operation would be risky. Don't forget that, Agent Rocket."
I couldn't resist any longer and asked something I didn't understand. "It's risky to talk to us. I'm glad Agent Rocket introduced us to you, but I don't know why you dare to tell us your plans and activities."
"Getting Jenine Thompson is a catch like no other for us," agent Tooth Fairy explained. "But we have one point that requires immediate action. We need someone with leadership influence to stop the search for her. The three of you need to think about it and do it. As long, as it doesn't cause a rift that could cost the innocent inmates. We know the local circumstances, but Rocket´s influence is still too indirect. We need a pretty face in the right place and the best idea."
The words of Agent Swallow guided me. "How about this…"
Me too!
What a shame! I would have just rolled with it!
Miras
Tribune
6-6-4
I could have carried out my plan in Mayson's office, but there would have been no immediate consequences. Principal, who didn't know what I was up to, agreed to call the Heirs to the special lunch in the ballroom, and I could sit in his cubicle at the table with the microphones, just like all the members of the newly formed Council. None of them had any way of knowing that I was behind the idea and what they could expect today.
It was a friendly atmosphere down there and up there until the last plate disappeared. We only had nutritious soup so as not to look like opulent rulers.
Mayson made a brief introduction and left me with a powerful speech.
"I have been to appear before you by an enormous feeling of shame." They didn't even care.
I knew they would be interested in this. "At the Coordination Council´s first meeting, I noticed something was wrong. I understood that three privileged ones and two representatives of my group were supposed to be present." I sighed into the microphone like a girl who was cribbing. “I understood the problem when your representatives arrived.”
A good third of them commented on it in some way - incomprehensible to me. I was happy to unsettle them. "If we count Mr. Principal, we have a council of nine." I took a deep breath and shouted. "And only a third of them are men!" I gave them a moment of confusion. "How does that square with an androcentric approach?" Mayson turned his face away from the crowd and smiled at me. All the other Council members, including the Heirs, looked different.
"Keep the rude words to yourself!" was all Cruz could say. "You want to buy me out of here!" Oriona yelled, getting up from her chair and lunging at me, but the two male Heirs grabbed her arms.
"You see, you have to control her!" Mayson said, making sure the whole hall could hear it. I rubbed salt into the wound. "I think it would be logical for the female Heirs to give up their representation so that our ratio is more in line with what we're trying to do."
The women's part of the hall and some of the men's were talking and insulting me, Mayson, and Cruz with Randell.
The anger spread like crab louse, but that didn't mean it would transfer to Cabrera. The other two privileged ones jumped up instead of her. "He must have thought this up!" Claudia pointed at Mayson. "You're not that stupid!" Olivia was not left out either. "Our composition was decided by the Prefect a long time ago!"
"Take the two little girls away!" the Principal shouted at the wardens. Thus, the Coordinating Council was cut for size. I couldn't believe it, but as the wardens dragged away the mocked hysterics, both the male and female Heirs calmed down and stood between Mayson and the view of the tiny Heirs below.
"It was true," Oriona said. "Would you like to transcribe a direct initiation from Cheyenne?"
"I?" Mayson stretched out the sound. "Why are you all so focused on me? Miss Woodroof wanted to test something perhaps more fundamental than our unity. I'm talking about our ideological consistency."
Oriona grabbed Randell's hand and dragged him down the hall, speaking more and more quietly the further she got away. Mayson turned off the microphone, apparently so no one would hear him gloat about the dissolution of the Council.
I apologized to the table. Everyone probably imagined me zigzagging to avoid the two Heirs, but I walked straight toward them. The drill of PE had improved my reflexes and agility, so my face avoided the slap. Pride prevented me from making my suggestion easier.
"I'll just tell you this. Sack yourself!" Oriana didn't stop for the second time and caught up with Randell.
I caught up with her again.
“You can embarrass me by performing a heroic deed.”
She questioned my sanity but, at the same time, came back to me.
“I think I know where Jenine Thompson is,” I explained. "I want you to help find her. Of course, I had to tell someone, but my roommates must not suspect me."
"Then you are a moron." Her eyes darted disorganizedly. "Then why the episode a while ago?"
I showed three fingers.
"Firstly, I needed more points from Mayson. Second, this will make a beautiful legend as proof of female power. Third, now you have tremendous motivation to make my mission a success."
I could have carried out my plan in Mayson's office, but there would have been no immediate consequences. Principal, who didn't know what I was up to, agreed to call the Heirs to the special lunch in the ballroom, and I could sit in his cubicle at the table with the microphones, just like all the members of the newly formed Council. None of them had any way of knowing that I was behind the idea and what they could expect today.
It was a friendly atmosphere down there and up there until the last plate disappeared. We only had nutritious soup so as not to look like opulent rulers.
Mayson made a brief introduction and left me with a powerful speech.
"I have been to appear before you by an enormous feeling of shame." They didn't even care.
I knew they would be interested in this. "At the Coordination Council´s first meeting, I noticed something was wrong. I understood that three privileged ones and two representatives of my group were supposed to be present." I sighed into the microphone like a girl who was cribbing. “I understood the problem when your representatives arrived.”
A good third of them commented on it in some way - incomprehensible to me. I was happy to unsettle them. "If we count Mr. Principal, we have a council of nine." I took a deep breath and shouted. "And only a third of them are men!" I gave them a moment of confusion. "How does that square with an androcentric approach?" Mayson turned his face away from the crowd and smiled at me. All the other Council members, including the Heirs, looked different.
"Keep the rude words to yourself!" was all Cruz could say. "You want to buy me out of here!" Oriona yelled, getting up from her chair and lunging at me, but the two male Heirs grabbed her arms.
"You see, you have to control her!" Mayson said, making sure the whole hall could hear it. I rubbed salt into the wound. "I think it would be logical for the female Heirs to give up their representation so that our ratio is more in line with what we're trying to do."
The women's part of the hall and some of the men's were talking and insulting me, Mayson, and Cruz with Randell.
The anger spread like crab louse, but that didn't mean it would transfer to Cabrera. The other two privileged ones jumped up instead of her. "He must have thought this up!" Claudia pointed at Mayson. "You're not that stupid!" Olivia was not left out either. "Our composition was decided by the Prefect a long time ago!"
"Take the two little girls away!" the Principal shouted at the wardens. Thus, the Coordinating Council was cut for size. I couldn't believe it, but as the wardens dragged away the mocked hysterics, both the male and female Heirs calmed down and stood between Mayson and the view of the tiny Heirs below.
"It was true," Oriona said. "Would you like to transcribe a direct initiation from Cheyenne?"
"I?" Mayson stretched out the sound. "Why are you all so focused on me? Miss Woodroof wanted to test something perhaps more fundamental than our unity. I'm talking about our ideological consistency."
Oriona grabbed Randell's hand and dragged him down the hall, speaking more and more quietly the further she got away. Mayson turned off the microphone, apparently so no one would hear him gloat about the dissolution of the Council.
I apologized to the table. Everyone probably imagined me zigzagging to avoid the two Heirs, but I walked straight toward them. The drill of PE had improved my reflexes and agility, so my face avoided the slap. Pride prevented me from making my suggestion easier.
"I'll just tell you this. Sack yourself!" Oriana didn't stop for the second time and caught up with Randell.
I caught up with her again.
“You can embarrass me by performing a heroic deed.”
She questioned my sanity but, at the same time, came back to me.
“I think I know where Jenine Thompson is,” I explained. "I want you to help find her. Of course, I had to tell someone, but my roommates must not suspect me."
"Then you are a moron." Her eyes darted disorganizedly. "Then why the episode a while ago?"
I showed three fingers.
"Firstly, I needed more points from Mayson. Second, this will make a beautiful legend as proof of female power. Third, now you have tremendous motivation to make my mission a success."
Last edited by a moderator:
Miras
Tribune
6-6- Finale
The Heirs had been able to search the area for Jenine before as if looking for Romulan underground base, but that was no match for the ferocity of the simple operation that followed. Stacey had already had Georgianna bring her the ID chip of Lawrence, the guy who made Jen's escape possible, the night before. Oriona "miraculously" discovered it in the grass outside the civilian staff barracks. Soon after, Mayson played us a video of footage of the Heirs hitting the wall of a place they hadn't ventured to before, and now they were sure to blame themselves for it. Finally, they found the renegade warden, back in his uniform, who had apparently got rid of his non-functioning chip, but kept the classic set of old-fashioned keys and thanks to them, hid alternately among the personal cooks’ personal belongings. It was necessary to find out how he had got there, but that was less important. The important thing was to find out where Jenine Thompson had gone, so he had to be questioned alive. I watched the arranged charade as Lawrence knocked eight men to the ground before being pacified by the designated person. The principal froze the video.
"Some of the consequences of this action will be felt immediately. Others will have to wait," Mayson proudly announced to the members of the Coordination Council. "First, I would like to invite the hero of the day to join us!"
Arthur Fitzpatrick walked into the principal's office. The fact that he was breathing heavily and had two pink eyes was obviously to his advantage. "Mr. Fitzpatrick coordinated his group the best and even defeated our outcast personally. So, considering Miss Woodroof's recent comment, I think he's an ideal candidate to put in the seat that Miss Termen will surely be willing to vacate."
"I found the clue!" Oriona argued.
"And then you needed men to do the most important work for you," Mayson shrugged. "Typical display of imbalance. However, we will write your parents a letter of commendation."
Oriona was looking at me, but I knew that at this moment, I would be taking away from the results with subversive remarks. Larissa's game turned out better than she could have imagined.
"Did he tell you where to find Thompson?" I asked.
Mayson looked at Lawrence's face on the screen. "I was present during his interrogation. He cursed Mrs. Thompson so many times you would have thought they had just divorced. Who knows how many times she gave him . . . I think he was honest when he told me how she tried to leave him in Yellowstone, and he drowned her in the river. We found her fresh blood under his fingernails. I can't believe they got that far, but it's not impossible. He then allegedly came back because he suspected sepsis from the injury and wanted to find medical supplies. So far, he has not had the strength to attempt another escape. I thought it would be appropriate for the Princeps investigators to verify rest and details."
Excellent, exactly as we wanted! I had to keep playing dumb. "Shouldn't the prefect´s office come for him first?"
"No." Mayson started to shake his head excitedly. “The gentleman told me something that may not be interesting to Green but is vital to Gilbert.”
Cruz scowled and stomped quietly behind his chair. The roles were changing so quickly. Mayson hadn't been able to look him in the eye recently. Today, it was the opposite. "It is not necessary to frown just because everything did not go according to your ambitions," the principal said. “Enzo Romano is avenged, Thompson won't cause any more trouble, and you've completed your hunt by catching an accomplice.” He went to his apartment and returned with a bottle that ended up with far more than a few drops in each of us.
It would be easy for me to be happy like on New Year´s Eve, but I thought it might seem strange to others that I resented my roommate, so I often looked worried.
I don't know if that was why Mayson gently took the glass from me and whispered, "I'd like to reward you for your recent services." I nodded, projecting some modesty and gratitude. The Principal ended the Coordination Council meeting early, which went without complaint. He led me through the entire Tower. It took a long time, but in the elevator, I understood that we were heading to the dungeons. And what can be a reward there but the torture of others?
We descended into a soundproofed area where a quartet of female figures was wailing, prepared in the most humiliating positions. Their long legs and bare waist were propped up on the wooden crosses of St. Andrew, their vulvas pointed at the visitors' faces.
I looked at the rest of the body, upside down. Besides the bleeding lips, I noticed the white and grey dress.
"Some of the cooks must have been helping Thompson and the guy," Mayson said. "Maybe not these, and maybe yes. Either way, we picked some more attractive ones, since I'll be here. What will make you out of their cunts?"
"I didn't do anything, I just wanted to work!"
I knew they didn´t, and just like Mayson, I didn´t give a fuck. I hated cooks, the cover of my noble work must not be damaged, and this seemed like an unusually sexy opportunity. It's not that I'm suddenly attracted to other women, but having power over someone for a while, especially when it's linked to revenge, suddenly drives you. The longest and hardest sausage.
There were more tools for pussy torture on the shelf, but the best one I got was a long rod with a pear on the end, a metal monstrosity that you occupy a foreign cavity and then stretch regardless of how much the tortured body can take. I picked it up and chose the youngest cook so I would have a nicer object to start with. I wanted to caress her first, but even that ended up being more of a blow. I was getting into the role quickly... That's why I stuck it in her without delay and was rewarded with a long scream.
"AAAAHHHHH, what dare you, you one..."
I wanted to save her more trouble, so that she couldn't talk anymore, I gave her a few more pokes, deeper and deeper. I was proud of myself, how far I could push it, and what a scream she managed to get out of her thanks to my strength. I gave her a break and looked at her flushed and clenched face, wet with sticky tears. I couldn't wait to see what she would do when I opened the pear. She roared even more, trying to tear the ankle shackles from the cross and vowing to kill me. I turned the pear inside her, clockwise and counterclockwise, wondering what it would be like if her sphincters loosened, so I focused on getting the job done. But nothing of the sort happened, and I also resisted the temptation to press any other button than the expanding one. I could have also added "heat", but I didn't bother this young body with that. When I had enough of her resistance, I pulled out the torture tool (violently, because it's fun) and began to nurse, once with the hotter end, the older ones, one of whom even peed.
Mayson took the tool from me and kissed my hand. "Even I couldn't stand doing it that long. Next year we'll focus on your submissiveness in practice and see if you can hold out long enough for powerful and unaging men."
The dungeon door swung open before we could get to it. Ekström walked in to return the knife, which she carried slightly protectively between her fingers. I had no choice but to quickly admit that the red and brown color on the blade was not rust.
"Did anyone need soothing or satisfying?" Mayson was guessing in a false tone.
“Your prisoner became completely uncooperative and began to break.” There was nothing genuine about her tone either. Mayson, on the other hand, was finally over the pretending. “You couldn't kill him. The Office of Princeps confirmed their interest in him.”
“And the Prefect arranged all the summary documentation.” Ekström made her superior's title an unspoken threat as if the letters of the word were tipped with razor-sharp metal spikes. His plans would remain secret. The only thing protecting me from a bad mood was my chattering underbelly.
I didn't focus on what should make me happy and what I should be ashamed of. I've done a lot here, whether worthy of intelligent people or primitive. I toyed with the idea of Polish agents coming to get me out. Especially in the moments when I ate pieces of cheese and mind in the country cottage and sent them through the crack under the stove to Jenine in her new hole.
The Shieldmaidens found themselves in front of the locked door to the Werewolf Queen´s Thaumaturgy room.
"They have to open it from the inside!" Julie stated.
"Luckily, we already know how to do that," Lydia replied, pressing the brick marked on Wiseman's map. Drifts of coins, the glittering golden lights descended upon us from the ceiling. It was not advisable to stand under them because some turned into sharp daggers.
Thank goodness, they heard a rumble inside. The door opened, and three dog-headed warriors from the Order of St. Christopher came out to fight us. Of course, we overcame them with our determination and stormed in.
The Werewolf Queen inspired both majesty and terror. The throne was of mere brass, but some goblin smith crafted it into the likeness of men screaming in agony. The fire was depicted at their feet. Although the sovereign´s clothing consisted mainly of transparent veils, she still showed no skin. Thick brown hair covered it.
“Doesn't matter how many silver weapons you brought, Zeena,” the beastly tyrant snarled. “There´s a full moon tonight and that means I'm stronger than ever. What's more, my spell will ensure that the moon power will never leave me now!” She swung her paw up at the opening in the ceiling, revealing the rapidly growing Luna.
"You mean this spell?" I, in turn, pointed to the floor, where the words of the incantation were written in letters made of stars, centered around an image of the moon, at the edge of which the painter had placed a tiny black representation of the sun.
"I think I can handle it!" I pulled out my bottle, and before the Werewolf Queen could even ask what I had in there, I squirted vampire blood into the diagram. The stars suddenly turned into bats, and the magical picture sent a shrill laugh through the room.
"No!" The Werewolf Queen jumped at the figure. The vampire blood didn't hurt her in any way. She got her buckles dirty, but that didn't stop her from transforming into a wolf the size of a bison and leaping into the air. "I will gain the moonbeams even if I have to fly to them!"
Being the main character, I naturally jumped on her, and as she gained speed, I pulled out a needle that the Sorcerer had made not of silver but of moon dust.
As we rose above the ceiling of her lair, the Werewolf Queen's growl turned into a roar. I improvised, pulling her by the hair behind her head, but she lunged at me, opened her mouth, and gave me a painful bite on my hand! Jesus Christ, had Alice already programmed that into the system? Zeena took the needle into the other hand and stabbed the Werewolf Queen in the eye. Our foe let go of me, curled up into a ball, and flew off towards the Selkie Sea. There was nothing I could do to slow my fall, but Barbara rushed to the rescue and saved Zeena with her magical chant.
"Glory to you sisters," I thanked them. “The Werewolf Queen is defeated for good.” If it's true, we'll found at the script meeting. We had to turn off the program. My arm burned excruciatingly, and I may have a tooth stuck in the wound.
Is it possible that my character has contracted lycanthropy?
The Heirs had been able to search the area for Jenine before as if looking for Romulan underground base, but that was no match for the ferocity of the simple operation that followed. Stacey had already had Georgianna bring her the ID chip of Lawrence, the guy who made Jen's escape possible, the night before. Oriona "miraculously" discovered it in the grass outside the civilian staff barracks. Soon after, Mayson played us a video of footage of the Heirs hitting the wall of a place they hadn't ventured to before, and now they were sure to blame themselves for it. Finally, they found the renegade warden, back in his uniform, who had apparently got rid of his non-functioning chip, but kept the classic set of old-fashioned keys and thanks to them, hid alternately among the personal cooks’ personal belongings. It was necessary to find out how he had got there, but that was less important. The important thing was to find out where Jenine Thompson had gone, so he had to be questioned alive. I watched the arranged charade as Lawrence knocked eight men to the ground before being pacified by the designated person. The principal froze the video.
"Some of the consequences of this action will be felt immediately. Others will have to wait," Mayson proudly announced to the members of the Coordination Council. "First, I would like to invite the hero of the day to join us!"
Arthur Fitzpatrick walked into the principal's office. The fact that he was breathing heavily and had two pink eyes was obviously to his advantage. "Mr. Fitzpatrick coordinated his group the best and even defeated our outcast personally. So, considering Miss Woodroof's recent comment, I think he's an ideal candidate to put in the seat that Miss Termen will surely be willing to vacate."
"I found the clue!" Oriona argued.
"And then you needed men to do the most important work for you," Mayson shrugged. "Typical display of imbalance. However, we will write your parents a letter of commendation."
Oriona was looking at me, but I knew that at this moment, I would be taking away from the results with subversive remarks. Larissa's game turned out better than she could have imagined.
"Did he tell you where to find Thompson?" I asked.
Mayson looked at Lawrence's face on the screen. "I was present during his interrogation. He cursed Mrs. Thompson so many times you would have thought they had just divorced. Who knows how many times she gave him . . . I think he was honest when he told me how she tried to leave him in Yellowstone, and he drowned her in the river. We found her fresh blood under his fingernails. I can't believe they got that far, but it's not impossible. He then allegedly came back because he suspected sepsis from the injury and wanted to find medical supplies. So far, he has not had the strength to attempt another escape. I thought it would be appropriate for the Princeps investigators to verify rest and details."
Excellent, exactly as we wanted! I had to keep playing dumb. "Shouldn't the prefect´s office come for him first?"
"No." Mayson started to shake his head excitedly. “The gentleman told me something that may not be interesting to Green but is vital to Gilbert.”
Cruz scowled and stomped quietly behind his chair. The roles were changing so quickly. Mayson hadn't been able to look him in the eye recently. Today, it was the opposite. "It is not necessary to frown just because everything did not go according to your ambitions," the principal said. “Enzo Romano is avenged, Thompson won't cause any more trouble, and you've completed your hunt by catching an accomplice.” He went to his apartment and returned with a bottle that ended up with far more than a few drops in each of us.
It would be easy for me to be happy like on New Year´s Eve, but I thought it might seem strange to others that I resented my roommate, so I often looked worried.
I don't know if that was why Mayson gently took the glass from me and whispered, "I'd like to reward you for your recent services." I nodded, projecting some modesty and gratitude. The Principal ended the Coordination Council meeting early, which went without complaint. He led me through the entire Tower. It took a long time, but in the elevator, I understood that we were heading to the dungeons. And what can be a reward there but the torture of others?
We descended into a soundproofed area where a quartet of female figures was wailing, prepared in the most humiliating positions. Their long legs and bare waist were propped up on the wooden crosses of St. Andrew, their vulvas pointed at the visitors' faces.
I looked at the rest of the body, upside down. Besides the bleeding lips, I noticed the white and grey dress.
"Some of the cooks must have been helping Thompson and the guy," Mayson said. "Maybe not these, and maybe yes. Either way, we picked some more attractive ones, since I'll be here. What will make you out of their cunts?"
"I didn't do anything, I just wanted to work!"
I knew they didn´t, and just like Mayson, I didn´t give a fuck. I hated cooks, the cover of my noble work must not be damaged, and this seemed like an unusually sexy opportunity. It's not that I'm suddenly attracted to other women, but having power over someone for a while, especially when it's linked to revenge, suddenly drives you. The longest and hardest sausage.
There were more tools for pussy torture on the shelf, but the best one I got was a long rod with a pear on the end, a metal monstrosity that you occupy a foreign cavity and then stretch regardless of how much the tortured body can take. I picked it up and chose the youngest cook so I would have a nicer object to start with. I wanted to caress her first, but even that ended up being more of a blow. I was getting into the role quickly... That's why I stuck it in her without delay and was rewarded with a long scream.
"AAAAHHHHH, what dare you, you one..."
I wanted to save her more trouble, so that she couldn't talk anymore, I gave her a few more pokes, deeper and deeper. I was proud of myself, how far I could push it, and what a scream she managed to get out of her thanks to my strength. I gave her a break and looked at her flushed and clenched face, wet with sticky tears. I couldn't wait to see what she would do when I opened the pear. She roared even more, trying to tear the ankle shackles from the cross and vowing to kill me. I turned the pear inside her, clockwise and counterclockwise, wondering what it would be like if her sphincters loosened, so I focused on getting the job done. But nothing of the sort happened, and I also resisted the temptation to press any other button than the expanding one. I could have also added "heat", but I didn't bother this young body with that. When I had enough of her resistance, I pulled out the torture tool (violently, because it's fun) and began to nurse, once with the hotter end, the older ones, one of whom even peed.
Mayson took the tool from me and kissed my hand. "Even I couldn't stand doing it that long. Next year we'll focus on your submissiveness in practice and see if you can hold out long enough for powerful and unaging men."
The dungeon door swung open before we could get to it. Ekström walked in to return the knife, which she carried slightly protectively between her fingers. I had no choice but to quickly admit that the red and brown color on the blade was not rust.
"Did anyone need soothing or satisfying?" Mayson was guessing in a false tone.
“Your prisoner became completely uncooperative and began to break.” There was nothing genuine about her tone either. Mayson, on the other hand, was finally over the pretending. “You couldn't kill him. The Office of Princeps confirmed their interest in him.”
“And the Prefect arranged all the summary documentation.” Ekström made her superior's title an unspoken threat as if the letters of the word were tipped with razor-sharp metal spikes. His plans would remain secret. The only thing protecting me from a bad mood was my chattering underbelly.
I didn't focus on what should make me happy and what I should be ashamed of. I've done a lot here, whether worthy of intelligent people or primitive. I toyed with the idea of Polish agents coming to get me out. Especially in the moments when I ate pieces of cheese and mind in the country cottage and sent them through the crack under the stove to Jenine in her new hole.
The Shieldmaidens found themselves in front of the locked door to the Werewolf Queen´s Thaumaturgy room.
"They have to open it from the inside!" Julie stated.
"Luckily, we already know how to do that," Lydia replied, pressing the brick marked on Wiseman's map. Drifts of coins, the glittering golden lights descended upon us from the ceiling. It was not advisable to stand under them because some turned into sharp daggers.
Thank goodness, they heard a rumble inside. The door opened, and three dog-headed warriors from the Order of St. Christopher came out to fight us. Of course, we overcame them with our determination and stormed in.
The Werewolf Queen inspired both majesty and terror. The throne was of mere brass, but some goblin smith crafted it into the likeness of men screaming in agony. The fire was depicted at their feet. Although the sovereign´s clothing consisted mainly of transparent veils, she still showed no skin. Thick brown hair covered it.
“Doesn't matter how many silver weapons you brought, Zeena,” the beastly tyrant snarled. “There´s a full moon tonight and that means I'm stronger than ever. What's more, my spell will ensure that the moon power will never leave me now!” She swung her paw up at the opening in the ceiling, revealing the rapidly growing Luna.
"You mean this spell?" I, in turn, pointed to the floor, where the words of the incantation were written in letters made of stars, centered around an image of the moon, at the edge of which the painter had placed a tiny black representation of the sun.
"I think I can handle it!" I pulled out my bottle, and before the Werewolf Queen could even ask what I had in there, I squirted vampire blood into the diagram. The stars suddenly turned into bats, and the magical picture sent a shrill laugh through the room.
"No!" The Werewolf Queen jumped at the figure. The vampire blood didn't hurt her in any way. She got her buckles dirty, but that didn't stop her from transforming into a wolf the size of a bison and leaping into the air. "I will gain the moonbeams even if I have to fly to them!"
Being the main character, I naturally jumped on her, and as she gained speed, I pulled out a needle that the Sorcerer had made not of silver but of moon dust.
As we rose above the ceiling of her lair, the Werewolf Queen's growl turned into a roar. I improvised, pulling her by the hair behind her head, but she lunged at me, opened her mouth, and gave me a painful bite on my hand! Jesus Christ, had Alice already programmed that into the system? Zeena took the needle into the other hand and stabbed the Werewolf Queen in the eye. Our foe let go of me, curled up into a ball, and flew off towards the Selkie Sea. There was nothing I could do to slow my fall, but Barbara rushed to the rescue and saved Zeena with her magical chant.
"Glory to you sisters," I thanked them. “The Werewolf Queen is defeated for good.” If it's true, we'll found at the script meeting. We had to turn off the program. My arm burned excruciatingly, and I may have a tooth stuck in the wound.
Is it possible that my character has contracted lycanthropy?
Last edited:
Miras
Tribune
Chapter 7, Part 1
Stacey
Well, this is Christmas, and what have I done?
So much white was spreading around, you'd think Statue of Liberty-sized eagle had taken a shit on me. A white blanket warmed me and the pale face of snow, whether natural or artificial, was shining into the room, which for me meant damned skiing and a lot of clumsy girls who should learn how to drink that snow.
Tomorrow is Christmas Day and we're even supposed to get presents, but my greatest gift won't come until sometime in January in the form of a man who could provide us all with an early release and maybe even more bearable freedom.
I lifted the blanket and woke the sleeper whose head rubbed against my hairy crotch.
Reginald's reaction to the rush of the morning air wasn't unexpected, but that didn't make it any less delicious. He curled his lips towards my slit and sent his tongue into the cave where the fires of passion for most men and all women blazed. My secret ocean flooded his taste buds, and I pulled him into me adorably, pushing his head inwards. When I came, he started stretching me until his lips kissed me on the nose, so I inhaled the scent of my sex. The hardness of Reginald's cock was good for me even after the orgasm, and I was glad that I had at least half an hour more of a time when the demons in this hell were turning into angels.
I looked into his blue eyes and bent my left leg. My toes rested on his muscular calf, and I waited for his thorough massage of my tits to relax the self-indulgent girl. Switching guys might not have been healthy, like washing down pills with alcohol, but it eased the pain. Since Shawn was currently raging and didn't have much desire for sex, I replaced the partners of a few men, who were already bored with them, and the principal approved my request on the condition that I would be at their disposal for the whole night.
Reginald was sort of the guy who could convince a woman that she was a lady when she was standing and an empress worthy of satisfaction when she laid down. Although he did not allow me to be on top, he otherwise met needs expressed by my body, being gentle with his hands but uncompromising in what he wanted himself. Although we each had breakfast in a different dining hall, he fed me something before we happily ate our first meal of the day.
"I don't want to see you here in five minutes, or I'll liquefy you faster than a snowflake! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
My students were putting on their winter clothes, slouching their skis and sticks over their shoulders. I noticed that Zita and Barbara were still meters apart.
The involuntary mommie stood firmly on Therese's side, and we could thank God they both still had enough intelligence not to snitch on Jenine flat-out. Even in the room, we became women who would need an internment in the different cities. As everyone checked to ensure Barbara wasn't hurt, I found some kinder words for Zita Hari.
"Zita, carry skis, not drag! So do you, Erin! Gouges on the skis will mean gouges on the ass!"
"Fortunately, I'm too big for that," laughed twenty-one-year-old frail Francesca, provocatively showing me a fresh cut.
"No, you're not!"
Prominent and unimportant people were watching, and I had to show there would be no bypassing my authority. At least I justified it to myself that way. I grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to the wooden bench. I sat up, and she fell over my lap after I twitched her. I deliberately set it up to show her shaking bare ass to the shocked line outside the sporting goods store after quickly unzipping and pulling down her pants.
The woman sentenced to punishment was already crying before the first blow. I extended my fingers and smacked her like an iron machine, both in strength and speed. We had to leave early. I couldn't spank her for too long, but I wanted to make sure she knew I wouldn't be lenient if she weren't sensitive about our things. She didn't bend her bottom but arched her back and covered her face, which was also changing color.
I got her to her feet quickly. "Go chill outside!"
All the female athletes were passing the door quickly, even if they didn't have a warmed-up ass. I was the last to run after them, and they spontaneously created a path for me from the already-trodden snow, which I walked through in the cold air. The sunlight was reaching us in its palest version, and the trees wore the same garb as the circular roof of the Tower and the glass domes of its little sisters, watchtowers.
I wanted to turn to the waiting crowd, but Ekström was already standing in the front spot. She was not looking at the inmates so much as she was thinking about something.
"I was supposed to teach this class alone," I informed her.
She silently motioned for me to step away from the crowd.
"The Prefect's military transport is due to arrive today. A more massive thing has never parked here. It will take something and leave something behind. It will mainly be a change of personnel. The Prefect has been striving for this for a long time, and unfortunately, it has come to fruition today. In any case, it should arrive within half an hour, and you should limit your exercise to the northern sector.”
It is marvelous when people confide in you. It means that you are an excellent liar, and what some pronounce as a secret, you can repeat as intelligence.
"Bend everything! Knees, hips, even ankles! Be ready to wedge and let your skis carry you! Even the heaviest of you will float, or I'll knock them down personally!"
I urged them as in the military, but the result was poetry. They would go down the slope in threes or fours, and by the sticks, they would regulate their speed as needed. Only the youngest dropped. In time, I moved the colored flags marking the destination further away. To the displeasure of the wardens, who thus had to spread out, the exercisers were given more freedom and moved closer to the marked border of our demarcated space.
Understandably, it was Lewandowska who mainly followed the furthermost border. She came back from a detour, doing silly X-crossing with her skis. We didn't have to agree on a sign. I realized she wanted to discuss the secrets I informed her about.
I rushed to her, and she got talkative. "The truck must have arrived, but it wasn't headed just here. I saw they sent at least two dozen wardens into the forest to guard the road. I think I know what's going on, and I'd like to inspect the cargo."
"Did you hear what you were saying?" I asked. "They're going to follow that crate. On a clearly defined path through the trees. I've dreamed of it for a long time, but none of us will get an ax here to—"
"You'll do the most important thing. I've been shaking my ass in front of the uniformed dykes long enough."
"I won't do anything. We can thank Thompson for the fact that the wardens are now paranoidly policing acres of the park itself!"
"You're forgetting my micromanaging gear." Lewandowska gave me a needle. “I hope you can throw well and accurately.”
“Nanobots?” I turned the needle between my fingers.
"I'm getting nutritious food here, so I've bred many of them. Under the tarpaulin of the car, they'll eat a needle, turn themselves into a camera, put together a camera for me, broadcast, and destroy themselves soon as I need them."
"Maybe we're wasting technology because of the useless thing," I scolded her.
“Everything hidden is fatal to someone.”
I announced a pause for skiing, quickly went to the restricted sector, and found the corner where the forest path started. Ekström and Michelle, the warden, noticed me, but I gave them a helpful enough look that they continued to think I was restricting the inmates. Fate played its cards in my favor, so the truck passed just after my arrival.
The whole green covered colossus seemed like an ideal masculine monster that we, poor flowers, would like to blast into atoms.
What is throwing one needle in comparison?
I thought I wouldn't make it, but I turned my back to the speeding thing and threw it so that it stuck between the laces of the sail. This throw has convinced many gangsters that I'm just as tough as them.
I ticked off curling for the younger skiers, and to have Lewandowska with me, I set her as an example to the others, and we rode side by side. Our Polish she-golem remained faithful to micromanaging praxis. She expertly turned in the snow, and according to the movements of her eyeballs, she was receiving data.
"I saw two young people bound there," she declared excitedly. “I'm having them identified now.”
My hands gripping the sticks wobbled. "Let's hope they're kidnap victims and not just other kinksters," I said, but I was already proud of both of us.
Larissa shook her head. "I got it. Philipa and Lars Olson, children of the Governing Councilman of the Internal Affairs!"
I sighed. "It's going to be pretty binary from today on. Either Prefect Green falls to damnation... Or we do."
Stacey
Well, this is Christmas, and what have I done?
So much white was spreading around, you'd think Statue of Liberty-sized eagle had taken a shit on me. A white blanket warmed me and the pale face of snow, whether natural or artificial, was shining into the room, which for me meant damned skiing and a lot of clumsy girls who should learn how to drink that snow.
Tomorrow is Christmas Day and we're even supposed to get presents, but my greatest gift won't come until sometime in January in the form of a man who could provide us all with an early release and maybe even more bearable freedom.
I lifted the blanket and woke the sleeper whose head rubbed against my hairy crotch.
Reginald's reaction to the rush of the morning air wasn't unexpected, but that didn't make it any less delicious. He curled his lips towards my slit and sent his tongue into the cave where the fires of passion for most men and all women blazed. My secret ocean flooded his taste buds, and I pulled him into me adorably, pushing his head inwards. When I came, he started stretching me until his lips kissed me on the nose, so I inhaled the scent of my sex. The hardness of Reginald's cock was good for me even after the orgasm, and I was glad that I had at least half an hour more of a time when the demons in this hell were turning into angels.
I looked into his blue eyes and bent my left leg. My toes rested on his muscular calf, and I waited for his thorough massage of my tits to relax the self-indulgent girl. Switching guys might not have been healthy, like washing down pills with alcohol, but it eased the pain. Since Shawn was currently raging and didn't have much desire for sex, I replaced the partners of a few men, who were already bored with them, and the principal approved my request on the condition that I would be at their disposal for the whole night.
Reginald was sort of the guy who could convince a woman that she was a lady when she was standing and an empress worthy of satisfaction when she laid down. Although he did not allow me to be on top, he otherwise met needs expressed by my body, being gentle with his hands but uncompromising in what he wanted himself. Although we each had breakfast in a different dining hall, he fed me something before we happily ate our first meal of the day.
"I don't want to see you here in five minutes, or I'll liquefy you faster than a snowflake! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
My students were putting on their winter clothes, slouching their skis and sticks over their shoulders. I noticed that Zita and Barbara were still meters apart.
The involuntary mommie stood firmly on Therese's side, and we could thank God they both still had enough intelligence not to snitch on Jenine flat-out. Even in the room, we became women who would need an internment in the different cities. As everyone checked to ensure Barbara wasn't hurt, I found some kinder words for Zita Hari.
"Zita, carry skis, not drag! So do you, Erin! Gouges on the skis will mean gouges on the ass!"
"Fortunately, I'm too big for that," laughed twenty-one-year-old frail Francesca, provocatively showing me a fresh cut.
"No, you're not!"
Prominent and unimportant people were watching, and I had to show there would be no bypassing my authority. At least I justified it to myself that way. I grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to the wooden bench. I sat up, and she fell over my lap after I twitched her. I deliberately set it up to show her shaking bare ass to the shocked line outside the sporting goods store after quickly unzipping and pulling down her pants.
The woman sentenced to punishment was already crying before the first blow. I extended my fingers and smacked her like an iron machine, both in strength and speed. We had to leave early. I couldn't spank her for too long, but I wanted to make sure she knew I wouldn't be lenient if she weren't sensitive about our things. She didn't bend her bottom but arched her back and covered her face, which was also changing color.
I got her to her feet quickly. "Go chill outside!"
All the female athletes were passing the door quickly, even if they didn't have a warmed-up ass. I was the last to run after them, and they spontaneously created a path for me from the already-trodden snow, which I walked through in the cold air. The sunlight was reaching us in its palest version, and the trees wore the same garb as the circular roof of the Tower and the glass domes of its little sisters, watchtowers.
I wanted to turn to the waiting crowd, but Ekström was already standing in the front spot. She was not looking at the inmates so much as she was thinking about something.
"I was supposed to teach this class alone," I informed her.
She silently motioned for me to step away from the crowd.
"The Prefect's military transport is due to arrive today. A more massive thing has never parked here. It will take something and leave something behind. It will mainly be a change of personnel. The Prefect has been striving for this for a long time, and unfortunately, it has come to fruition today. In any case, it should arrive within half an hour, and you should limit your exercise to the northern sector.”
It is marvelous when people confide in you. It means that you are an excellent liar, and what some pronounce as a secret, you can repeat as intelligence.
"Bend everything! Knees, hips, even ankles! Be ready to wedge and let your skis carry you! Even the heaviest of you will float, or I'll knock them down personally!"
I urged them as in the military, but the result was poetry. They would go down the slope in threes or fours, and by the sticks, they would regulate their speed as needed. Only the youngest dropped. In time, I moved the colored flags marking the destination further away. To the displeasure of the wardens, who thus had to spread out, the exercisers were given more freedom and moved closer to the marked border of our demarcated space.
Understandably, it was Lewandowska who mainly followed the furthermost border. She came back from a detour, doing silly X-crossing with her skis. We didn't have to agree on a sign. I realized she wanted to discuss the secrets I informed her about.
I rushed to her, and she got talkative. "The truck must have arrived, but it wasn't headed just here. I saw they sent at least two dozen wardens into the forest to guard the road. I think I know what's going on, and I'd like to inspect the cargo."
"Did you hear what you were saying?" I asked. "They're going to follow that crate. On a clearly defined path through the trees. I've dreamed of it for a long time, but none of us will get an ax here to—"
"You'll do the most important thing. I've been shaking my ass in front of the uniformed dykes long enough."
"I won't do anything. We can thank Thompson for the fact that the wardens are now paranoidly policing acres of the park itself!"
"You're forgetting my micromanaging gear." Lewandowska gave me a needle. “I hope you can throw well and accurately.”
“Nanobots?” I turned the needle between my fingers.
"I'm getting nutritious food here, so I've bred many of them. Under the tarpaulin of the car, they'll eat a needle, turn themselves into a camera, put together a camera for me, broadcast, and destroy themselves soon as I need them."
"Maybe we're wasting technology because of the useless thing," I scolded her.
“Everything hidden is fatal to someone.”
I announced a pause for skiing, quickly went to the restricted sector, and found the corner where the forest path started. Ekström and Michelle, the warden, noticed me, but I gave them a helpful enough look that they continued to think I was restricting the inmates. Fate played its cards in my favor, so the truck passed just after my arrival.
The whole green covered colossus seemed like an ideal masculine monster that we, poor flowers, would like to blast into atoms.
What is throwing one needle in comparison?
I thought I wouldn't make it, but I turned my back to the speeding thing and threw it so that it stuck between the laces of the sail. This throw has convinced many gangsters that I'm just as tough as them.
I ticked off curling for the younger skiers, and to have Lewandowska with me, I set her as an example to the others, and we rode side by side. Our Polish she-golem remained faithful to micromanaging praxis. She expertly turned in the snow, and according to the movements of her eyeballs, she was receiving data.
"I saw two young people bound there," she declared excitedly. “I'm having them identified now.”
My hands gripping the sticks wobbled. "Let's hope they're kidnap victims and not just other kinksters," I said, but I was already proud of both of us.
Larissa shook her head. "I got it. Philipa and Lars Olson, children of the Governing Councilman of the Internal Affairs!"
I sighed. "It's going to be pretty binary from today on. Either Prefect Green falls to damnation... Or we do."
Miras
Tribune
Chapter 7, Part 2
Dorothy
I'm sitting next to the driver and looking out at the bloody green abomination of the park. I avowedly hate everything green today!
I still have a baton hanging behind my waist, but my gut tells me that someone will ask me for it and the privacy with him, as I have always liked it.
I look at the driver. She is dressed in camouflage but has dreadlocks growing out of her head and jokes about wanting to shoot Rangers. Se would deserve the bullet in her mouth for being so careless. The Prefect respects her. He is not mad at her for not arresting Thompson, and she won't be the forcibly reassigned one, despite that bitch expired.
The truck stops at Green´s Internment Center. It reminds me of the robot my bros once made out of cardboard boxes. I set it on fire for them, and they threw my guinea pigs into the flames.
The driver switches off the engine and looks at me dreamily. "I am handing over the keys to our escort and becoming your commander," she says. "We're going to descend. Meeting our colleagues won't be much fun, but it's your duty to laugh, so they can see all your yellow teeth. Finally, we'll look at the captives. Remember them to recognize their faces on the run, as you did that senator. Understood so far? "
You haven't peed in my ears. We get out of the truck and see the last people leaving the cargo bed. Two musclemen divide the handcuffed kiddos we had to snatch from the graduation party. The boy with the sparse mustache is wearing a jacket with a buckle shaped like that burning bird, and the greyhound-faced lady is wearing a red and gold robe. I wonder if I would find chocolate if I opened it.
Forty-year-old man with deep brown but visible hair leads the musclemen. In the building, they find stairs leading even lower. My new superior and I enter the room to the right of the stairs. I count sixteen guys at the tables.
"Sergeant Diane Marrice, reporting for duty. Myself and my deputy, Dorothy Vandraud, have come to replace your fallen and now deceased colleague." She pauses and straddles the rest, "Obviously, we two are subordinate to even the lowest of you."
So many guys are sticking their tongues here that I can feel them tasting me in my gut.
"The new uniforms are on the table behind you," says the young guy at the front. "We all know each other best when you change in front of us.
I should get fired for listening to disgusting male laughter, but today I can't say it even sarcastically. We shed our clothes all smiling. To make it juicy, we had to undress tits forward beforehand and then turn around. And they emphasized to our new colleagues that we should wear new undergarments too. On Diane, they mainly appreciated the jugs, and on me, they praised the fluff on my cunt.
"Let the lowest hen take the top only!"
I obey them and even voluntarily turn around to show them my pussy again.
"Lie back and spread your legs. Show us all the light at the end of the tunnel!"
Staring at the ceiling is better than looking at their hideous faces. I have to hold my thighs so my legs don't collide, and my hole remains hidden from the world, which can hurt it. When I'm not holding my legs anymore, I block my ears, so I overhear whatever order someone gives Diane. She thrusts her finger deep into my pussy and circles it. The last time a guy was inside me, I wanted him to stay, but now I can't wait for her to stop. Even though it doesn't have a nail, I can feel the scratching, as if a mischievous mouse has moved into my vagina and settled there. Since it drives me nuts and doesn't arouse me, I can't drown it.
"Kiss her! Make it a bit more romantic!"
Diane leans in and presses her lips to mine. Too late, I notice a piece of spiky metal in her lip. I can't believe it stayed in the military.
"Ow! Watch your piercings, cow!"
"Hey, you could poke her down as well."
Of course, Diane has to please her superiors. She bends down to my crotch and pokes me right in the middle of one of my lower lips.
"Awwww! Go away!!" But I haven't experienced anything yet. She runs her spiky piece of metal down from my stomach and draws a line of suffering that runs across my cunt, as if someone poured acid on me.
The guys praise Diane for her performance. One after the other, they come to me to complete my initiation. They stretch and slap across my cunt. It must turn them on when I can scream my gums off.
Everyone leaves, but the interest in us remains. The man who had taken prisoners to their new accommodation comes in. "I'm glad you're not hesitating and doing everything you can to make them come to terms with the loss." He looks between my legs and smiles as wide as I am open. "Get up but don't get dressed yet. Oh, and I'm Neven."
I listen to him and cover my lap with my hands. We'll tell him our names.
"I suppose that once Lars and Philipa get used to the lower air content down there, they'll also like to meet you. You may be bored here, but expect unlikely anomalies that cannot be ruled out. We have an inspection coming up. It could theoretically come here if their father starts imagining possibilities. Then you have to clean them up and act as guides to the empty cells for certain rascals."
"And in the meantime, each side will ensure the other doesn't get bored." The commander heads for the exit.
Neven tugs at Diana's sleeve. "Wait here. I've got female company here, so I have to use it for what it's meant for. You strip from the waist up. You'll make a wonderful contrast to your girlfriend.”
He waits for her to show her tits, among other things, and turns to me.
"You´re the lowest. You must suck! And that was an order!"
As he shouts at me, he is already pulling down his pants, and I kneel in front of his open zipper. He puts his hands on my cheeks, and I open my mouth in anticipation of his cock. It jumps in there covered by the foreskin, but under my drool, it quickly hardens and turns into a stick that doesn't let me breathe. I have to suck him as fast as I can to make him come soon. When he finally does, I feel nauseous and tilt my head back. I think his jizz would leak out of my ears, but I lick his cock from all sides anyway, slowly and obligingly.
His glans nudge my nose. "I thought of something a little more creative... Who says tits and ass always have to be on opposite sides?"
I have to lie down and put my head between Diane's legs. My commander takes my feet and throws them over her shoulders. My ass is located right under her boobs.
"Stay like that for a while," Neven says with pleasure. He disappears. It's painful, but we'll wait. He comes back, and in this position, I can only see the arc of a long switch he is holding in his hands for a moment.
My face sweats as he swings it tentatively into the air. I don't want to make him happy, but I have no choice. Neven puts all his strength into the blow to both cheeks. The worst thrashing of my life.
"Awwwwwwww!!!"
He doesn't even give me a chance to shut up. This time the switch strucks so that the forming welts must meet. I already know that my ass has been cut in two, and the pieces will never come back together again.
SWIIIISH!
Cut in three! Now I am burning unbearably in the middle. I can feel it above my asshole. Then I hear a noise, but the blow doesn't land. Diana must have been hit over her full breasts because she roars like a bull and arches her back. I try to push her back. Neven switches her, then me, then her again. We become musical instruments. Once, he plays his game by switching me and commenting on Diana's nipple that he must be squeezing it. My commanding officer cries anyway so I wouldn't know the difference. But we are disciplined soldiers, and we keep each other in position.
In the end, Neven laughs. Not scathingly, but loudly. The only way to silence him is to get dressed. Even then he laughs, although he gives us grateful kisses. He doesn't notice our embarrassment. Why should he? He walks us back to the basement stairs. He opens the door for us and respectfully lets us into a small cell where it's impossible to breathe. The light isn't enough for us to see much, but it's still a pathetic situation that some people get themselves into. The guy is examining the chains that lead to the wall. He's probably hoping to find a crack in there somewhere and chew. He is standing, but the girl is leaning against the wall, almost sitting. She looks around with that disgusting face of hers. I remember a friend of mine showing me the disgusting stare of a crow nailed to a piece of wood crow, and she looks just like that.
"Have you settled in?" Neven asks the prisoners. "What are you doing?"
"Should I do something?" the guy asks. "You're going to kill me, that's why none of you are covering your faces, and I can't even think of the last words because no one will record them!"
"You're adorable, Lars," says Neven. "You're right that someone could die, but it won't be you. Relax! How are you, Philipa?"
Gal carefully scans the two of us and does not eye Neven. "I've been wondering if we'll ever meet again. If you don´t kill us, you might be doing yourself a disservice. Or maybe not. I've had enough of the domestic robots. I need my human servants. Dad employs a few cripples. Sometimes I considered that I could hide their prostheses during the shift. And what about the crippled servants, who never get prostheses. All natural...""
“That won't be possible in the good order of Princeps," Neven says thoughtfully. "You may experience a few difficult weeks, but in the stagnation of the family residence, it will seem like an event that your father will surely pay you to repeat. We don't want any money from him."
Gal spreads the corners of her lips and opens her mouth. It is the kind of smile that a person with a soul inside is not capable of.
“Believe me. My dad would rather pay than serve someone.”
"Don't worry," Neven says. “He'll get you out of here quite easily, and he and your frightened brother will breathe a sigh of relief.” Perhaps a little disappointed by her reaction, he motions for us to get out while the guy watches us walk away, craning his neck to see us as long as he can.
I close my eyes. "I'd like to deny these two porridge, but to shoot someone who tries to take them away? I hope their father gives you what you want."
Neven grins. "They are here on vacation. We are not. As I said, we have to prepare for a visit, and that may turn into a battle with the Prefect's enemies. As reinforcements, our men will prepare you for an action that may require you to sacrifice your lives."
I feel ice blocks in my very fingernails. Diana opens her mouth and doesn´t say anything. "I made a mistake, but fuck, risking my life? They haven't paid me that well before. Are you ready for that yourself?"
Neven shrugs. "I know I'll survive the next month. Someone has to watch over the other pawns. Of course, the pawns want protection for themselves. So, let they show us that we should invest in them."
Dorothy
I'm sitting next to the driver and looking out at the bloody green abomination of the park. I avowedly hate everything green today!
I still have a baton hanging behind my waist, but my gut tells me that someone will ask me for it and the privacy with him, as I have always liked it.
I look at the driver. She is dressed in camouflage but has dreadlocks growing out of her head and jokes about wanting to shoot Rangers. Se would deserve the bullet in her mouth for being so careless. The Prefect respects her. He is not mad at her for not arresting Thompson, and she won't be the forcibly reassigned one, despite that bitch expired.
The truck stops at Green´s Internment Center. It reminds me of the robot my bros once made out of cardboard boxes. I set it on fire for them, and they threw my guinea pigs into the flames.
The driver switches off the engine and looks at me dreamily. "I am handing over the keys to our escort and becoming your commander," she says. "We're going to descend. Meeting our colleagues won't be much fun, but it's your duty to laugh, so they can see all your yellow teeth. Finally, we'll look at the captives. Remember them to recognize their faces on the run, as you did that senator. Understood so far? "
You haven't peed in my ears. We get out of the truck and see the last people leaving the cargo bed. Two musclemen divide the handcuffed kiddos we had to snatch from the graduation party. The boy with the sparse mustache is wearing a jacket with a buckle shaped like that burning bird, and the greyhound-faced lady is wearing a red and gold robe. I wonder if I would find chocolate if I opened it.
Forty-year-old man with deep brown but visible hair leads the musclemen. In the building, they find stairs leading even lower. My new superior and I enter the room to the right of the stairs. I count sixteen guys at the tables.
"Sergeant Diane Marrice, reporting for duty. Myself and my deputy, Dorothy Vandraud, have come to replace your fallen and now deceased colleague." She pauses and straddles the rest, "Obviously, we two are subordinate to even the lowest of you."
So many guys are sticking their tongues here that I can feel them tasting me in my gut.
"The new uniforms are on the table behind you," says the young guy at the front. "We all know each other best when you change in front of us.
I should get fired for listening to disgusting male laughter, but today I can't say it even sarcastically. We shed our clothes all smiling. To make it juicy, we had to undress tits forward beforehand and then turn around. And they emphasized to our new colleagues that we should wear new undergarments too. On Diane, they mainly appreciated the jugs, and on me, they praised the fluff on my cunt.
"Let the lowest hen take the top only!"
I obey them and even voluntarily turn around to show them my pussy again.
"Lie back and spread your legs. Show us all the light at the end of the tunnel!"
Staring at the ceiling is better than looking at their hideous faces. I have to hold my thighs so my legs don't collide, and my hole remains hidden from the world, which can hurt it. When I'm not holding my legs anymore, I block my ears, so I overhear whatever order someone gives Diane. She thrusts her finger deep into my pussy and circles it. The last time a guy was inside me, I wanted him to stay, but now I can't wait for her to stop. Even though it doesn't have a nail, I can feel the scratching, as if a mischievous mouse has moved into my vagina and settled there. Since it drives me nuts and doesn't arouse me, I can't drown it.
"Kiss her! Make it a bit more romantic!"
Diane leans in and presses her lips to mine. Too late, I notice a piece of spiky metal in her lip. I can't believe it stayed in the military.
"Ow! Watch your piercings, cow!"
"Hey, you could poke her down as well."
Of course, Diane has to please her superiors. She bends down to my crotch and pokes me right in the middle of one of my lower lips.
"Awwww! Go away!!" But I haven't experienced anything yet. She runs her spiky piece of metal down from my stomach and draws a line of suffering that runs across my cunt, as if someone poured acid on me.
The guys praise Diane for her performance. One after the other, they come to me to complete my initiation. They stretch and slap across my cunt. It must turn them on when I can scream my gums off.
Everyone leaves, but the interest in us remains. The man who had taken prisoners to their new accommodation comes in. "I'm glad you're not hesitating and doing everything you can to make them come to terms with the loss." He looks between my legs and smiles as wide as I am open. "Get up but don't get dressed yet. Oh, and I'm Neven."
I listen to him and cover my lap with my hands. We'll tell him our names.
"I suppose that once Lars and Philipa get used to the lower air content down there, they'll also like to meet you. You may be bored here, but expect unlikely anomalies that cannot be ruled out. We have an inspection coming up. It could theoretically come here if their father starts imagining possibilities. Then you have to clean them up and act as guides to the empty cells for certain rascals."
"And in the meantime, each side will ensure the other doesn't get bored." The commander heads for the exit.
Neven tugs at Diana's sleeve. "Wait here. I've got female company here, so I have to use it for what it's meant for. You strip from the waist up. You'll make a wonderful contrast to your girlfriend.”
He waits for her to show her tits, among other things, and turns to me.
"You´re the lowest. You must suck! And that was an order!"
As he shouts at me, he is already pulling down his pants, and I kneel in front of his open zipper. He puts his hands on my cheeks, and I open my mouth in anticipation of his cock. It jumps in there covered by the foreskin, but under my drool, it quickly hardens and turns into a stick that doesn't let me breathe. I have to suck him as fast as I can to make him come soon. When he finally does, I feel nauseous and tilt my head back. I think his jizz would leak out of my ears, but I lick his cock from all sides anyway, slowly and obligingly.
His glans nudge my nose. "I thought of something a little more creative... Who says tits and ass always have to be on opposite sides?"
I have to lie down and put my head between Diane's legs. My commander takes my feet and throws them over her shoulders. My ass is located right under her boobs.
"Stay like that for a while," Neven says with pleasure. He disappears. It's painful, but we'll wait. He comes back, and in this position, I can only see the arc of a long switch he is holding in his hands for a moment.
My face sweats as he swings it tentatively into the air. I don't want to make him happy, but I have no choice. Neven puts all his strength into the blow to both cheeks. The worst thrashing of my life.
"Awwwwwwww!!!"
He doesn't even give me a chance to shut up. This time the switch strucks so that the forming welts must meet. I already know that my ass has been cut in two, and the pieces will never come back together again.
SWIIIISH!
Cut in three! Now I am burning unbearably in the middle. I can feel it above my asshole. Then I hear a noise, but the blow doesn't land. Diana must have been hit over her full breasts because she roars like a bull and arches her back. I try to push her back. Neven switches her, then me, then her again. We become musical instruments. Once, he plays his game by switching me and commenting on Diana's nipple that he must be squeezing it. My commanding officer cries anyway so I wouldn't know the difference. But we are disciplined soldiers, and we keep each other in position.
In the end, Neven laughs. Not scathingly, but loudly. The only way to silence him is to get dressed. Even then he laughs, although he gives us grateful kisses. He doesn't notice our embarrassment. Why should he? He walks us back to the basement stairs. He opens the door for us and respectfully lets us into a small cell where it's impossible to breathe. The light isn't enough for us to see much, but it's still a pathetic situation that some people get themselves into. The guy is examining the chains that lead to the wall. He's probably hoping to find a crack in there somewhere and chew. He is standing, but the girl is leaning against the wall, almost sitting. She looks around with that disgusting face of hers. I remember a friend of mine showing me the disgusting stare of a crow nailed to a piece of wood crow, and she looks just like that.
"Have you settled in?" Neven asks the prisoners. "What are you doing?"
"Should I do something?" the guy asks. "You're going to kill me, that's why none of you are covering your faces, and I can't even think of the last words because no one will record them!"
"You're adorable, Lars," says Neven. "You're right that someone could die, but it won't be you. Relax! How are you, Philipa?"
Gal carefully scans the two of us and does not eye Neven. "I've been wondering if we'll ever meet again. If you don´t kill us, you might be doing yourself a disservice. Or maybe not. I've had enough of the domestic robots. I need my human servants. Dad employs a few cripples. Sometimes I considered that I could hide their prostheses during the shift. And what about the crippled servants, who never get prostheses. All natural...""
“That won't be possible in the good order of Princeps," Neven says thoughtfully. "You may experience a few difficult weeks, but in the stagnation of the family residence, it will seem like an event that your father will surely pay you to repeat. We don't want any money from him."
Gal spreads the corners of her lips and opens her mouth. It is the kind of smile that a person with a soul inside is not capable of.
“Believe me. My dad would rather pay than serve someone.”
"Don't worry," Neven says. “He'll get you out of here quite easily, and he and your frightened brother will breathe a sigh of relief.” Perhaps a little disappointed by her reaction, he motions for us to get out while the guy watches us walk away, craning his neck to see us as long as he can.
I close my eyes. "I'd like to deny these two porridge, but to shoot someone who tries to take them away? I hope their father gives you what you want."
Neven grins. "They are here on vacation. We are not. As I said, we have to prepare for a visit, and that may turn into a battle with the Prefect's enemies. As reinforcements, our men will prepare you for an action that may require you to sacrifice your lives."
I feel ice blocks in my very fingernails. Diana opens her mouth and doesn´t say anything. "I made a mistake, but fuck, risking my life? They haven't paid me that well before. Are you ready for that yourself?"
Neven shrugs. "I know I'll survive the next month. Someone has to watch over the other pawns. Of course, the pawns want protection for themselves. So, let they show us that we should invest in them."
Miras
Tribune
Chapter 7, Part 3 (1)
Therese
I tell a tale of living as three women.
The first one they called the bungler, and when I say they, I mean all the people who could hurt her. They never missed the opportunity.
The second one lived amid love and thought she would never slip out of the place God had chosen for her.
The third one was robbed and confused. Then enlightened but in a way that bewildered her even more.
I woke up around eleven or twelve. We have been here for months, and our sleep is still fragile. I saw a faraway black night with many shining stars adorning it. Is there someone behind them? I was thinking about Virgin Mary. Does she see the injustice inflicted on us all?
Christmas Day is beginning, and they have promised us a gift in an empty gesture. I don´t hate them, but I won´t forgive them for their lack of compassion. Without that, gifts have lost their meaning.
After breakfast, wardens told us to change into winter clothes, and they drove us out into the cold courtyard, where the giant tree stood, aglow with the decorations, covering the pyramid of presents. Some things had to reflect the change of regime, as the wooden representation of Santa Claus´sled spread across the branches, but now it was pulled by the horses instead of raindeers.
Loudspeakers sang Twelve Days of Christmas and Ode of Joy, and wardens allowed us to ask for our gifts.
Pagers in their palms recorded our answers and directed the warden to the correct package. They launched into dismantling the pyramide, ripping the tags of each ribbon and thrusting the present into our released open arms. I clenched my fingers around the blue wrapping, the gloves warming up the pictures of snowmen.
I bent my head and relished the image of the Star of Bethlehem at the top of the tree, its promise of hope now dulled, but its testimony of miracles not so much. Our false guardians drove the gifted crowd back to the Tower, and the next group took the vacant and well-trodden snow area. God only knows how many people harbored the death wish in the face of the chance of trampling underfoot.
There was no reason to look forward to holiday leisure. On Christmas Day, we had a day off. No education unless our Heir felt like fornicating with us, and Arthur kept his distance from me and Double L. It depended on his decision, but what I missed was the attention of Larissa. Her deft fingers, her nimble vulva... How she understood and handled my body was far more artfully than the gawky guys.
Therese
I tell a tale of living as three women.
The first one they called the bungler, and when I say they, I mean all the people who could hurt her. They never missed the opportunity.
The second one lived amid love and thought she would never slip out of the place God had chosen for her.
The third one was robbed and confused. Then enlightened but in a way that bewildered her even more.
I woke up around eleven or twelve. We have been here for months, and our sleep is still fragile. I saw a faraway black night with many shining stars adorning it. Is there someone behind them? I was thinking about Virgin Mary. Does she see the injustice inflicted on us all?
Christmas Day is beginning, and they have promised us a gift in an empty gesture. I don´t hate them, but I won´t forgive them for their lack of compassion. Without that, gifts have lost their meaning.
After breakfast, wardens told us to change into winter clothes, and they drove us out into the cold courtyard, where the giant tree stood, aglow with the decorations, covering the pyramid of presents. Some things had to reflect the change of regime, as the wooden representation of Santa Claus´sled spread across the branches, but now it was pulled by the horses instead of raindeers.
Loudspeakers sang Twelve Days of Christmas and Ode of Joy, and wardens allowed us to ask for our gifts.
Pagers in their palms recorded our answers and directed the warden to the correct package. They launched into dismantling the pyramide, ripping the tags of each ribbon and thrusting the present into our released open arms. I clenched my fingers around the blue wrapping, the gloves warming up the pictures of snowmen.
I bent my head and relished the image of the Star of Bethlehem at the top of the tree, its promise of hope now dulled, but its testimony of miracles not so much. Our false guardians drove the gifted crowd back to the Tower, and the next group took the vacant and well-trodden snow area. God only knows how many people harbored the death wish in the face of the chance of trampling underfoot.
There was no reason to look forward to holiday leisure. On Christmas Day, we had a day off. No education unless our Heir felt like fornicating with us, and Arthur kept his distance from me and Double L. It depended on his decision, but what I missed was the attention of Larissa. Her deft fingers, her nimble vulva... How she understood and handled my body was far more artfully than the gawky guys.
Miras
Tribune
7-3-2
Back at our place, I sat beside the bed, expected by Barbara, while Stacey and Zita snuggled up in the bathroom. Shadows of reproach lay between us.
"I´ve got a pendant," Barbara said in surprise, holding out to me with the little golden oval in her palm. "There is Enzo´s photo in it. But the necklace is not included. Nothing we can strangle on."
I opened the pendant. The picture of the dead man was even younger and more attractive than we remembered him. I gave it to the future member of Enzo´s family and tore off the wrapping.
I placed the bonsai on the floor. "This tree, unlike the one outside, is as big as their understanding of the Christmas spirit."
I was genuinely curious how was Barbara imagining her Christmas next year, but the sound of the key postponed my nosy question. I haven´t seen the visitors opening the door. It just says something about their character that they walk in without a knock beforehand.
"Who is it?" I asked sharply, only turning around after we stood up. Agatha, dressed as for Lovemaking, was leaning against Stacey´s bed, and the stunning black lady was pacing on her tail. She waved at Barbara. I suspected her of being Helen Freeman, the most innocent of the privileged ones. "We´ve come to invite our friends to the raffle!" she told Zita, who was peering out from the bathroom.
"Principal likes to repeat that Heirs should have a peaceful time at Christmas, undisturbed by females," Zita objected.
"This will be a special donation," Agatha said. "The last presents to be opened on Christmas Day. It's up to the women if they want to be there."
The last two presents? I was too stressed not to want to find out what that meant, and Barbara desired any activity.
Precious melodies moved me a few meters before reaching the Lovemaking because two voices complemented each other, performing Good King Wenceslas. A tiny piece of the sky opening above. A drop of love from heaven. Charm from the better part of childhood.
These sounds came from the throats of the two girls climbing up the poles, their legs stretched or bent sensuously. Light purple ribbons covered their breasts, but elsewhere their skin breathed freely. While the bar may have fallen silent temporarily after the song finished, the applause grew louder by the second. The singers continued to take their obligatory bow, but the audience was less static. Many of those seated went to the plinths and stroked their delicate feet. When they went back to the tables, I noticed something nice. Men were in the clear majority here, but half-nude mistresses came too. The masters usually chained their legs to the furniture, just like in the lecture halls, but once the women were seated, the men would frequently strip as well, hanging their clothes on the chair and remaining only in their boxers or briefs. Those without partners did not lower themselves to that. However, given their smiles, I think they agreed it was a good display of the exceptional generosity of the holiday season. I liked to see bare chests, straight backs, and minimally covered butts.
"You are the niceness magnet!" Deborah Sledge, Heiress of Helen, came to her lover, admiring Barbara. "I tell you to come, and you bring a friend! Are you starting to feel a baby, Mrs. Romano?"
Barbara shook her head. "I can tell you more about things that leave my stomach than those that occupy my insides."
Agatha didn´t look at her but allowed herself a brief laugh. "Eight months, and you are in for agony that will make vomiting seem like a caviare."
"The raffle is going to ruffle the hair of you all!" The amplified voice of the spokeswoman Arnolph came from behind the bar counter. The woman left the confined space and positioned herself between the singers. She wore a bright futuristic dress and a wide translucent funnel. The human glass was clutching a punch bowl.
"The tutors of Erica Westingham and Raven Baxter were ejected from the Tower for their dubious activities during the Hunt," Arnolph explained. "Since then, they were lectured by a different guest each night. Today, they are the presents which... Well, some men opened them, but they gave them the right lessons. They will behave like virgins, and they will carouse like whores. The goods are not spoiled. They can become your additional partners. So, if you all have your ballots."
"Hell yeah!"
"I will only trade it for pussy!"
"Helen, take me a seat." Deborah clutched her belly and crumpled something in her pocket.
Arnolph dipped her hand into the tickets and opened the ballot with a concerned stare.
"Erica Westinghouse is heading under the patronage of the gentleman with the number 37!"
A hand rose, and Erica stepped down, tugging teasingly at her ribbon. She sat at the table with a mixed-race beanpole and a middle-aged lady with a flat chest. I looked for Arthur, but they probably told him the third girl would be a no-no. Arnolph showed the people the second ballot inside her hand. Slowly she opened it. Deborah raised her right hand, but the other hand had to be used to wipe out her face, as she was wet with tears, and her sighing was almost indistinguishable from a heavy heart attack.
I heard a crowd of men whispering "Does she have a right?" and the like, including Helen, who might be joining the cast of a jelaus-based comedy, silently observing the scene of her Heiress hugging the Raven. The chain clicked, and Deborah asked Agatha to bring her and two concubines a drink. I don´t know how much it affected the taste, but the stream from Deborah´s and Raven´s eyes had to trickle partially into their glasses. Deberah´s left hand never left Raven´s knee. It didn´t matter Deborah found herself on the verge of a breakdown and had to smother her whimpering face in the other palm. She insisted on squeezing her trophy. She drank herself with repugnant ease, and it looked like she wanted to continue celebrating but grew green-colored when glimpsing the men. She made Helen and Raven stand.
"I invite you to my place," she said in a strangely begging voice, holding me and Agatha.
"I´ll come with you," Barbara offered.
"No, I don´t wanna! Nothing for pregnant ladies!" Raven and Helen obeyed the instructions of their mistress, whom they supported in the blessed drunkenness. Agatha looked at me with more sarcasm than she dedicated to them. The wobbly step of Deborah became stable on the floor of her room. She opened the door herself and hurried her mistresses to the bed. It seemed her balance was back.
"Shed your clothes and celebrate the victory of pure love!" she ordered. Her panties landed on Agatha´s face while the Mexican made a great show out of her disrobing. Raven and Helen didn´t make a fuss about it, they wanted to be naked quickly, but they also learned how to fake joy and stress how much they looked forward to fulfilling her fantasies. I made a dance out of my twisting.
Naked Deborah took Raven´s hand and pushed her onto the bed. She laid on top of her, sticking her shameless bottom as she licked a nice rack.
I made Helen lie on their side and let the bush in her crotch tickle my vulva. I couldn´t pretend she was Larissa, but I had to admit darkness of her skin alone made her radiate powerful passion.
Helen´s lips were sweet as cherries, and I pressed mine to hers. Down, I began to feel more than mere tickling. Helen waved her crotch, and although it was nonsense, I imagined my vulva turning red from the pleasure and shame it was unwilling to back away from. In the moment of power, I brought Helen´s hand there, and she understood. She had long fingers... Despite my moans, I could still hear Deborah´s. I turned to her. Cabrara had a strap-on, and the massive artificial member penetrated the butt of Heiress, who was still doing whatever she wanted to do with Raven, taking her time to alter between women behind or under her.
The prostitute came earlier than Deborah, and so did Raven, but the Heiress wasn´t saturated. She took my hands and pressed my face against her breasts. My head fell on Helen´s soft stomach, and my legs crossed with Raven´s. That left me to the whims of a powerful lady whose desires I had to guess. I felt warm in all my erogenous zones - my ear, my breasts, my crotch, and my butt, so I used my tongue and stroked all these places on Deborah to ignite the equal intensity.
"And your guy needs another woman?" Deborah asked rhetorically, steaming with orgasm.
"Agatha, take care of her by your mouth. Target - central point!"
Agatha spread my legs as she did hundreds of times before, but today it was not violent. She brought her hand to my vulva and crashed down my barriers one by one, coordinating her lips, tongue, and gently her teeth. She moistened the surface of my vulva like a lady, therefore like an expert, and when she was inside, I thought of her as a customer in a restaurant, sucking delicious meat and juice of the oyster, but this was our mutual feast.
After the copulation, Deborah, all puffed up, made a living picture out of us. She laid Raven in the middle of the bed and spread her arms - like the wings. Deborah instructed Agatha to suck on Raven´s wrist, while I and Helend were supposed to massage the walls of Raven´s womanhood gently. Even on the surface, I felt tremors of escalating pleasure. I had a prime view of Deborah´s cute bottom, driving her lover´s body between her stomach and breasts. More and more, Deborah lifted her pelvis and stimulated herself with the touches of Raven´s nipples to the delightful moaning. Suffice it to say I was grateful that my other hand was free to do as it pleased and the pleasure it delivered.
Relieved by another orgasm, Deborah opened the window and handed out the cigarettes to all of us. I let her light mine stick, but I only inhaled a fart of smoke. I had been afraid of cigarettes since I was little, and my life was confined to the elementary school and the orphanage. The first nun I met was Sister Thalia, who provided me with kindness and structure in one package, but she could be merciless. One day Thalia discovered a packet of cigarettes in Daniella Hammond´s bag, bared the poor girl´s fanny, and did the thing that was disappearing back then, while under the new regime, they used it to dominate the female sex, the age be damned. Cigarettes meant a red butt, and I was scared of getting that.
Back at our place, I sat beside the bed, expected by Barbara, while Stacey and Zita snuggled up in the bathroom. Shadows of reproach lay between us.
"I´ve got a pendant," Barbara said in surprise, holding out to me with the little golden oval in her palm. "There is Enzo´s photo in it. But the necklace is not included. Nothing we can strangle on."
I opened the pendant. The picture of the dead man was even younger and more attractive than we remembered him. I gave it to the future member of Enzo´s family and tore off the wrapping.
I placed the bonsai on the floor. "This tree, unlike the one outside, is as big as their understanding of the Christmas spirit."
I was genuinely curious how was Barbara imagining her Christmas next year, but the sound of the key postponed my nosy question. I haven´t seen the visitors opening the door. It just says something about their character that they walk in without a knock beforehand.
"Who is it?" I asked sharply, only turning around after we stood up. Agatha, dressed as for Lovemaking, was leaning against Stacey´s bed, and the stunning black lady was pacing on her tail. She waved at Barbara. I suspected her of being Helen Freeman, the most innocent of the privileged ones. "We´ve come to invite our friends to the raffle!" she told Zita, who was peering out from the bathroom.
"Principal likes to repeat that Heirs should have a peaceful time at Christmas, undisturbed by females," Zita objected.
"This will be a special donation," Agatha said. "The last presents to be opened on Christmas Day. It's up to the women if they want to be there."
The last two presents? I was too stressed not to want to find out what that meant, and Barbara desired any activity.
Precious melodies moved me a few meters before reaching the Lovemaking because two voices complemented each other, performing Good King Wenceslas. A tiny piece of the sky opening above. A drop of love from heaven. Charm from the better part of childhood.
These sounds came from the throats of the two girls climbing up the poles, their legs stretched or bent sensuously. Light purple ribbons covered their breasts, but elsewhere their skin breathed freely. While the bar may have fallen silent temporarily after the song finished, the applause grew louder by the second. The singers continued to take their obligatory bow, but the audience was less static. Many of those seated went to the plinths and stroked their delicate feet. When they went back to the tables, I noticed something nice. Men were in the clear majority here, but half-nude mistresses came too. The masters usually chained their legs to the furniture, just like in the lecture halls, but once the women were seated, the men would frequently strip as well, hanging their clothes on the chair and remaining only in their boxers or briefs. Those without partners did not lower themselves to that. However, given their smiles, I think they agreed it was a good display of the exceptional generosity of the holiday season. I liked to see bare chests, straight backs, and minimally covered butts.
"You are the niceness magnet!" Deborah Sledge, Heiress of Helen, came to her lover, admiring Barbara. "I tell you to come, and you bring a friend! Are you starting to feel a baby, Mrs. Romano?"
Barbara shook her head. "I can tell you more about things that leave my stomach than those that occupy my insides."
Agatha didn´t look at her but allowed herself a brief laugh. "Eight months, and you are in for agony that will make vomiting seem like a caviare."
"The raffle is going to ruffle the hair of you all!" The amplified voice of the spokeswoman Arnolph came from behind the bar counter. The woman left the confined space and positioned herself between the singers. She wore a bright futuristic dress and a wide translucent funnel. The human glass was clutching a punch bowl.
"The tutors of Erica Westingham and Raven Baxter were ejected from the Tower for their dubious activities during the Hunt," Arnolph explained. "Since then, they were lectured by a different guest each night. Today, they are the presents which... Well, some men opened them, but they gave them the right lessons. They will behave like virgins, and they will carouse like whores. The goods are not spoiled. They can become your additional partners. So, if you all have your ballots."
"Hell yeah!"
"I will only trade it for pussy!"
"Helen, take me a seat." Deborah clutched her belly and crumpled something in her pocket.
Arnolph dipped her hand into the tickets and opened the ballot with a concerned stare.
"Erica Westinghouse is heading under the patronage of the gentleman with the number 37!"
A hand rose, and Erica stepped down, tugging teasingly at her ribbon. She sat at the table with a mixed-race beanpole and a middle-aged lady with a flat chest. I looked for Arthur, but they probably told him the third girl would be a no-no. Arnolph showed the people the second ballot inside her hand. Slowly she opened it. Deborah raised her right hand, but the other hand had to be used to wipe out her face, as she was wet with tears, and her sighing was almost indistinguishable from a heavy heart attack.
I heard a crowd of men whispering "Does she have a right?" and the like, including Helen, who might be joining the cast of a jelaus-based comedy, silently observing the scene of her Heiress hugging the Raven. The chain clicked, and Deborah asked Agatha to bring her and two concubines a drink. I don´t know how much it affected the taste, but the stream from Deborah´s and Raven´s eyes had to trickle partially into their glasses. Deberah´s left hand never left Raven´s knee. It didn´t matter Deborah found herself on the verge of a breakdown and had to smother her whimpering face in the other palm. She insisted on squeezing her trophy. She drank herself with repugnant ease, and it looked like she wanted to continue celebrating but grew green-colored when glimpsing the men. She made Helen and Raven stand.
"I invite you to my place," she said in a strangely begging voice, holding me and Agatha.
"I´ll come with you," Barbara offered.
"No, I don´t wanna! Nothing for pregnant ladies!" Raven and Helen obeyed the instructions of their mistress, whom they supported in the blessed drunkenness. Agatha looked at me with more sarcasm than she dedicated to them. The wobbly step of Deborah became stable on the floor of her room. She opened the door herself and hurried her mistresses to the bed. It seemed her balance was back.
"Shed your clothes and celebrate the victory of pure love!" she ordered. Her panties landed on Agatha´s face while the Mexican made a great show out of her disrobing. Raven and Helen didn´t make a fuss about it, they wanted to be naked quickly, but they also learned how to fake joy and stress how much they looked forward to fulfilling her fantasies. I made a dance out of my twisting.
Naked Deborah took Raven´s hand and pushed her onto the bed. She laid on top of her, sticking her shameless bottom as she licked a nice rack.
I made Helen lie on their side and let the bush in her crotch tickle my vulva. I couldn´t pretend she was Larissa, but I had to admit darkness of her skin alone made her radiate powerful passion.
Helen´s lips were sweet as cherries, and I pressed mine to hers. Down, I began to feel more than mere tickling. Helen waved her crotch, and although it was nonsense, I imagined my vulva turning red from the pleasure and shame it was unwilling to back away from. In the moment of power, I brought Helen´s hand there, and she understood. She had long fingers... Despite my moans, I could still hear Deborah´s. I turned to her. Cabrara had a strap-on, and the massive artificial member penetrated the butt of Heiress, who was still doing whatever she wanted to do with Raven, taking her time to alter between women behind or under her.
The prostitute came earlier than Deborah, and so did Raven, but the Heiress wasn´t saturated. She took my hands and pressed my face against her breasts. My head fell on Helen´s soft stomach, and my legs crossed with Raven´s. That left me to the whims of a powerful lady whose desires I had to guess. I felt warm in all my erogenous zones - my ear, my breasts, my crotch, and my butt, so I used my tongue and stroked all these places on Deborah to ignite the equal intensity.
"And your guy needs another woman?" Deborah asked rhetorically, steaming with orgasm.
"Agatha, take care of her by your mouth. Target - central point!"
Agatha spread my legs as she did hundreds of times before, but today it was not violent. She brought her hand to my vulva and crashed down my barriers one by one, coordinating her lips, tongue, and gently her teeth. She moistened the surface of my vulva like a lady, therefore like an expert, and when she was inside, I thought of her as a customer in a restaurant, sucking delicious meat and juice of the oyster, but this was our mutual feast.
After the copulation, Deborah, all puffed up, made a living picture out of us. She laid Raven in the middle of the bed and spread her arms - like the wings. Deborah instructed Agatha to suck on Raven´s wrist, while I and Helend were supposed to massage the walls of Raven´s womanhood gently. Even on the surface, I felt tremors of escalating pleasure. I had a prime view of Deborah´s cute bottom, driving her lover´s body between her stomach and breasts. More and more, Deborah lifted her pelvis and stimulated herself with the touches of Raven´s nipples to the delightful moaning. Suffice it to say I was grateful that my other hand was free to do as it pleased and the pleasure it delivered.
Relieved by another orgasm, Deborah opened the window and handed out the cigarettes to all of us. I let her light mine stick, but I only inhaled a fart of smoke. I had been afraid of cigarettes since I was little, and my life was confined to the elementary school and the orphanage. The first nun I met was Sister Thalia, who provided me with kindness and structure in one package, but she could be merciless. One day Thalia discovered a packet of cigarettes in Daniella Hammond´s bag, bared the poor girl´s fanny, and did the thing that was disappearing back then, while under the new regime, they used it to dominate the female sex, the age be damned. Cigarettes meant a red butt, and I was scared of getting that.
Miras
Tribune
7-3-3
Helen bit off the end of her cigarette and closed the bathroom door behind her. That was rather unhealthy. But it spoke volumes about the emotional instability of this room. Deborah was blinking with wet eyes. Had she already decided whether she was happy or sad already? She was sitting on the bed, not concentrating on Raven for a change. I took her by the hand. "You know her." I nodded at Raven. "I think the outcome has been decided in advance."
Deborah´s mouth opened. Not like to say something or to eat but to bite. She released her grip on Raven and led me onto the heated balcony, shielded from the white, snowy landscape. The Heiress pushed me towards the brownish plastic chairs.
She sat but could not keep her balance " Yes, I knew her. Yes, I wanted her. They asked me for a favor so that they rig the raffle. You don´t want to know what it was. My conscience is bad because they will use it God knows how against... If I told you, I would endanger you."
"There are people here who can make things better!" I protested.
"Go away!" she tried to punch me, but I recoiled. I held her outstretched arm in my grip. Those who use violence hurt themselves, and I don´t want them to hurt them or me. People said I was clumsy, that I was unable to do anything right, and that I brought them bad luck. I will not let silence win, and I will convince her of the blessing of confession!
"You might endanger me, but do you know if you didn´t endanger yourself or Raven?" I asked her.
Deborah breathed punch remnants on me. "It is a danger to everyone in the state for all I know. The spy of Prefect Green himself contacted me. She promised he would give me Raven if I called Governing Councilman Olsson and told him that his son and daughter were on the ground of this Princess Tower in his military barracks. Supposedly my good friend in security told me that. Prefect monitored our conversation and was extremely satisfied. I was sicker than I am now, being complicit in his machinations."
I stroke her temple. "You´re a good soul. You don´t need to feel sick. The devil may have banquets, but in the final hour, he will eat his crap."
Wrongs had to be made right. In the Princess Tower and this room.
"If you don't want him to use them, bring Larissa Lewandowska to me. Then don't listen to us, make love to Helen."
"And I thought they had to torture you to force you to be productive, girl!" Larissa sat next to me in body underwear. Her stomach and breasts shone through the lines of the Indian landscape motifs. The elephants engaged their trunks on themselves in an unprecedented way. I could be looking at that or the black ass writhing on the bed outside the door. I was in a dilemma.
"Green is not behaving as our forecasts predicted. Our agent has emphasized in every report that he dares to do nothing but blackmail and threats, but now it seems he imagines that his opponents will follow the trail to the bait. It matches the rumor I picked up before we went to get the presents.”
"Rumors?"
"To tell you the truth, I already knew that Philipa and her brother were here since yesterday, but today there was news that another shipment was on its way to the barracks, this time some substances that the Green is secretly preparing in the infirmary, and it's probably not hemorrhoid ointment... We need to get there, gain the captives' trust, and then we should gain something that will make their father trust us more than Deborah.“
"You want to get there?" I asked, perhaps a little foolishly.
"Of course, girl! We can trick people so easily. Our Arthur must learn that he wants to go skiing with us. You cough a little and ask your Arab friend in the infirmary for two nurse uniforms thrown in the forest unhappily. Arthur will be glad to return them later."
Helen bit off the end of her cigarette and closed the bathroom door behind her. That was rather unhealthy. But it spoke volumes about the emotional instability of this room. Deborah was blinking with wet eyes. Had she already decided whether she was happy or sad already? She was sitting on the bed, not concentrating on Raven for a change. I took her by the hand. "You know her." I nodded at Raven. "I think the outcome has been decided in advance."
Deborah´s mouth opened. Not like to say something or to eat but to bite. She released her grip on Raven and led me onto the heated balcony, shielded from the white, snowy landscape. The Heiress pushed me towards the brownish plastic chairs.
She sat but could not keep her balance " Yes, I knew her. Yes, I wanted her. They asked me for a favor so that they rig the raffle. You don´t want to know what it was. My conscience is bad because they will use it God knows how against... If I told you, I would endanger you."
"There are people here who can make things better!" I protested.
"Go away!" she tried to punch me, but I recoiled. I held her outstretched arm in my grip. Those who use violence hurt themselves, and I don´t want them to hurt them or me. People said I was clumsy, that I was unable to do anything right, and that I brought them bad luck. I will not let silence win, and I will convince her of the blessing of confession!
"You might endanger me, but do you know if you didn´t endanger yourself or Raven?" I asked her.
Deborah breathed punch remnants on me. "It is a danger to everyone in the state for all I know. The spy of Prefect Green himself contacted me. She promised he would give me Raven if I called Governing Councilman Olsson and told him that his son and daughter were on the ground of this Princess Tower in his military barracks. Supposedly my good friend in security told me that. Prefect monitored our conversation and was extremely satisfied. I was sicker than I am now, being complicit in his machinations."
I stroke her temple. "You´re a good soul. You don´t need to feel sick. The devil may have banquets, but in the final hour, he will eat his crap."
Wrongs had to be made right. In the Princess Tower and this room.
"If you don't want him to use them, bring Larissa Lewandowska to me. Then don't listen to us, make love to Helen."
"And I thought they had to torture you to force you to be productive, girl!" Larissa sat next to me in body underwear. Her stomach and breasts shone through the lines of the Indian landscape motifs. The elephants engaged their trunks on themselves in an unprecedented way. I could be looking at that or the black ass writhing on the bed outside the door. I was in a dilemma.
"Green is not behaving as our forecasts predicted. Our agent has emphasized in every report that he dares to do nothing but blackmail and threats, but now it seems he imagines that his opponents will follow the trail to the bait. It matches the rumor I picked up before we went to get the presents.”
"Rumors?"
"To tell you the truth, I already knew that Philipa and her brother were here since yesterday, but today there was news that another shipment was on its way to the barracks, this time some substances that the Green is secretly preparing in the infirmary, and it's probably not hemorrhoid ointment... We need to get there, gain the captives' trust, and then we should gain something that will make their father trust us more than Deborah.“
"You want to get there?" I asked, perhaps a little foolishly.
"Of course, girl! We can trick people so easily. Our Arthur must learn that he wants to go skiing with us. You cough a little and ask your Arab friend in the infirmary for two nurse uniforms thrown in the forest unhappily. Arthur will be glad to return them later."
Miras
Tribune
7-3-4
I was surprised at how quickly we approached the barracks, dressed in overalls and with white caps on our heads.
"A special order from the prefect," Larissa croaked.
"Even special orders need to be reported to us in advance, cuntie," the fatter of two guards replied, looking greedily, not only at Larissa but also at her younger entourage.
“The prefect contacted the father of the prisoners brought in yesterday, but he needs something from them as evidence,” Larissa said in frustration. "He didn't contact me directly either, but his confidant. It has to go through a minimum of channels. As compensation, we are supposed to be available for you for anything you ask."
Larissa thought this offer would make them believe anything. These were guys full of testosterone not far from the Temple of Vice and apparently denied sexual pleasure. To draw a contrast between us, I laughed coquettishly.¨
“Come on in then, chicks.”
Each of them pulled each of us by the wrist into the warmth inside – between periwinkle-green walls and leather-covered benches. The men invited their four colleagues, one smellier than the other. I thought this was going to be a long hour.
"Okay cunts, show us your panties!"
I knew long ago what was necessary for my survival. As soon as I threw off the overalls, I pulled out my nurse skirt and showed plain underwear from all sides. This time, Larissa also put on a sexy face and demonstrated a different view thanks to her overall coverage. At least that's when she stuck her bottom out in their direction. All the guards were smiling. "Seize them," ordered the commander. I didn't understand, but I screamed in pain and fear as they twisted my arms behind my back. Larissa just let out a stutter of feigned stupidity.
"To let you know where you went wrong, nurses only have tie-up panties. Anyway, don't worry, these will probably be your last."
It seemed that we were constantly at war in the streets. Our school and monastery therefore became a fortress and it was necessary to supply it.
"Flour, carrots, potatoes, ginger cubes. We'll be protected from the microscopic enemies, but I'm not sure what will protect us from the oversized ones."
Sister Josephine threw such a pile of food into the basket that we both had a heavy load to carry, no matter how much I helped her. But I was happy that I could be of assistance. And that we would soon we would be protected by the massive walls.
Josephine was in her late fifties, but men enjoyed the sparkle in her eyes when they talked to her, whether about history or fishing. And they also liked the lines that sometimes showed even through the robes.
Mr. Murray, always smiling, stood at the till, even under the old regime. The one who probably did all the work now - his niece Hannah, the nice young girl with short, mousy hair - smiled much less.
"Hello, girls," she said, coming out from behind the counter to help us unload our purchases. She was naked from the waist down, fleshing both her cute butt scattered with goosebumps and her sex with a hairy line in the middle.
"You don't know how much I've been looking forward to someone like you coming to me to beg, Josephine," Murray said, not too interested in the individual items of the purchase.
"Hannah, how much is this?"
Hannah lowered her eyes as she turned to him, and he took a few unsteady steps towards the register.
"One hundred and twenty prosperits."
“That and a special price for relieving the merchant.”
Murray shamelessly tugged at the fabric under her neck.
"Let's go tothe warehouse together. I'll fondle your naked boobs for three minutes."
Josephine's cheeks were so red that I thought her earrings would melt.
"That's a foul," she gasped. The trader shook his head in satisfaction.
"It would be a foul if you were underage or married. You belong to everyone, and I can do whatever I want to humble you."
I pushed Josephine away lightly. "Feel free to play with me." It was self-denying, but I wanted to spare her the embarrassment.
The merchant pushed me away now. "No, no. I want to teach the old-timer a lesson." Josephine shrugged. "Then I'll buy food from moral people!"
For the first time, I saw her raise her hand in anger, even if it was just for shopping items. Half of it fell to the ground. The turnips rumbled, the nuts scattered, several bottles began to leak. Josephina reached for her purse and demonstratively pulled out a wad of bills.
“This is not going to be enough,” Murray said. "Security at the register!" he shouted into the microphone. Josephina grabbed me and turned towards the door, but they punched in her back, and I hit both my knees. I couldn't see anything through the tears.
As Josephina staggered, her arms man in a T-shirt with a laughing picture of food pinned her hands. He cuffed her hands painfully behind her back and tightened them with the kind of lash that was now part of most public establishments to tame naughty women and children. The security man tightened the leash and hung it from a hook in the ceiling. Murray took the money, pretending to be thoughtful. He reached for long scissors from under the counter and handed them to the security man. As Jospehina's dignified garb changed to lace, the elderly nun stopped even hissing and put on a face of forgiveness for the world. Murray climbed up behind her and fiddled with something.
“It was supposed to be three minutes with me, but now it will be six minutes for everyone. The strips of the robe landed up on the floor among the untidy shopping, but Josephine's bra flew through the air and covered the face of the mother standing there with her two offsprings. I wasn't looking at the breasts but at the older guys and pranksters with pierced ears as they moved between anarchy and a semi-organized front with the stuff that was supposed to be our food stuck to their shoes. I bent down here, maybe to transfer some to the convent. Hannah was already kneeling on the floor, her slit barely covered.
"We'll collect together! Be grateful for your nunnery, don't let any of these guys in there!" Far worse males were going to occupy the nunnery.
I was surprised at how quickly we approached the barracks, dressed in overalls and with white caps on our heads.
"A special order from the prefect," Larissa croaked.
"Even special orders need to be reported to us in advance, cuntie," the fatter of two guards replied, looking greedily, not only at Larissa but also at her younger entourage.
“The prefect contacted the father of the prisoners brought in yesterday, but he needs something from them as evidence,” Larissa said in frustration. "He didn't contact me directly either, but his confidant. It has to go through a minimum of channels. As compensation, we are supposed to be available for you for anything you ask."
Larissa thought this offer would make them believe anything. These were guys full of testosterone not far from the Temple of Vice and apparently denied sexual pleasure. To draw a contrast between us, I laughed coquettishly.¨
“Come on in then, chicks.”
Each of them pulled each of us by the wrist into the warmth inside – between periwinkle-green walls and leather-covered benches. The men invited their four colleagues, one smellier than the other. I thought this was going to be a long hour.
"Okay cunts, show us your panties!"
I knew long ago what was necessary for my survival. As soon as I threw off the overalls, I pulled out my nurse skirt and showed plain underwear from all sides. This time, Larissa also put on a sexy face and demonstrated a different view thanks to her overall coverage. At least that's when she stuck her bottom out in their direction. All the guards were smiling. "Seize them," ordered the commander. I didn't understand, but I screamed in pain and fear as they twisted my arms behind my back. Larissa just let out a stutter of feigned stupidity.
"To let you know where you went wrong, nurses only have tie-up panties. Anyway, don't worry, these will probably be your last."
It seemed that we were constantly at war in the streets. Our school and monastery therefore became a fortress and it was necessary to supply it.
"Flour, carrots, potatoes, ginger cubes. We'll be protected from the microscopic enemies, but I'm not sure what will protect us from the oversized ones."
Sister Josephine threw such a pile of food into the basket that we both had a heavy load to carry, no matter how much I helped her. But I was happy that I could be of assistance. And that we would soon we would be protected by the massive walls.
Josephine was in her late fifties, but men enjoyed the sparkle in her eyes when they talked to her, whether about history or fishing. And they also liked the lines that sometimes showed even through the robes.
Mr. Murray, always smiling, stood at the till, even under the old regime. The one who probably did all the work now - his niece Hannah, the nice young girl with short, mousy hair - smiled much less.
"Hello, girls," she said, coming out from behind the counter to help us unload our purchases. She was naked from the waist down, fleshing both her cute butt scattered with goosebumps and her sex with a hairy line in the middle.
"You don't know how much I've been looking forward to someone like you coming to me to beg, Josephine," Murray said, not too interested in the individual items of the purchase.
"Hannah, how much is this?"
Hannah lowered her eyes as she turned to him, and he took a few unsteady steps towards the register.
"One hundred and twenty prosperits."
“That and a special price for relieving the merchant.”
Murray shamelessly tugged at the fabric under her neck.
"Let's go tothe warehouse together. I'll fondle your naked boobs for three minutes."
Josephine's cheeks were so red that I thought her earrings would melt.
"That's a foul," she gasped. The trader shook his head in satisfaction.
"It would be a foul if you were underage or married. You belong to everyone, and I can do whatever I want to humble you."
I pushed Josephine away lightly. "Feel free to play with me." It was self-denying, but I wanted to spare her the embarrassment.
The merchant pushed me away now. "No, no. I want to teach the old-timer a lesson." Josephine shrugged. "Then I'll buy food from moral people!"
For the first time, I saw her raise her hand in anger, even if it was just for shopping items. Half of it fell to the ground. The turnips rumbled, the nuts scattered, several bottles began to leak. Josephina reached for her purse and demonstratively pulled out a wad of bills.
“This is not going to be enough,” Murray said. "Security at the register!" he shouted into the microphone. Josephina grabbed me and turned towards the door, but they punched in her back, and I hit both my knees. I couldn't see anything through the tears.
As Josephina staggered, her arms man in a T-shirt with a laughing picture of food pinned her hands. He cuffed her hands painfully behind her back and tightened them with the kind of lash that was now part of most public establishments to tame naughty women and children. The security man tightened the leash and hung it from a hook in the ceiling. Murray took the money, pretending to be thoughtful. He reached for long scissors from under the counter and handed them to the security man. As Jospehina's dignified garb changed to lace, the elderly nun stopped even hissing and put on a face of forgiveness for the world. Murray climbed up behind her and fiddled with something.
“It was supposed to be three minutes with me, but now it will be six minutes for everyone. The strips of the robe landed up on the floor among the untidy shopping, but Josephine's bra flew through the air and covered the face of the mother standing there with her two offsprings. I wasn't looking at the breasts but at the older guys and pranksters with pierced ears as they moved between anarchy and a semi-organized front with the stuff that was supposed to be our food stuck to their shoes. I bent down here, maybe to transfer some to the convent. Hannah was already kneeling on the floor, her slit barely covered.
"We'll collect together! Be grateful for your nunnery, don't let any of these guys in there!" Far worse males were going to occupy the nunnery.
Miras
Tribune
7-3 -Finale
Within seconds, knives tore through our panties and shirts, revealing our round tummies. I squealed at the thought of our nipples cut out and our breasts burning whole.
The guy who bit Double L below the neck screamed first and fell to the floor in convulsions. He couldn't even protect his face with his stiff hands. The nanobots attacked quickly.
The four monstrous men parted, leaving Larissa with nowhere to retreat. My captor twisted my hands behind my back until I thought he was going to break my fingers. "Sigma," Larissa breathed. “C-351. The Magistrix.”
"So, you're not really nurses," said the burly guy with a disappearing ghost of satisfaction.
“Yes, we're pretending to be inmates,” Double L said, no longer meek. "Several pairs of eyes are guarding the Princess Tower for the prefect. He wanted to check on hostages by us with our special means without revealing all the layers of his secrets."
"We were just doing our job," the guy snapped. I was relieved because he showed that he believed her.
“I commend you,” Larissa replied. "In that case, however, I will only be half as generous to you as I had planned. You will take me to the hostages while my colleague here..." She pointed at me. “Will please you as much as she can.”
I didn't like it. Both because I hoped it wouldn't happen and because it seemed like an attempt to buy the men.
Guys must have missed it. One of them led the paralyzed squad member away, and one accompanied Larissa, but the remaining three clustered around me.
"We ´ll take her to fourteen!" cried one of them, and they hurried with me into a small room with a narrow table. I hoped no blood had seeped into the wood, for I had to lie on it stomach down.
"Pick up, beautiful spy!" I croaked at the sound of buttons undone and pants pulled down. I propped myself up on my elbows and knees, expecting the worst.
The youngest of the guys, with complete impudence in his face, grabbed my left hand, and I willingly helped him to get underneath me.
"Dinner is served!" he stated. I had already been trained to be excited by such words and prepared to serve in all ways. My body was really just another course of the day. It got wet between the legs unless it wanted them to slice it. The boy's member reared up, giving us both pleasure despite my stress. One, two… From the beginning, I set the pace of the intercourse, like during exercise, when I do push-ups. Initially, I didn't have to fake the pleasurable noises, but the guy suddenly shot up, which meant deep. It began to sting me raw under the womb, as was possibly intended.
"She needs it from both sides," the male behind me said, and soon I felt an indescribable pressure between my cheeks, wilder and more brutal than anything Arthur was ever capable of. When I slowed down, I was just clubbed across the back.
"You need something else to concentrate on," said the last man, thrusting the throbbing purple end of his member in front of my face. I took it in my mouth and ran my tongue over the suspected spots crisscrossed with red veins. The choking wasn't nearly as bad as the urge to go to the bathroom, but my anus was full of something else. I clenched my body, which apparently the gentlemen liked.
"Too bad the other one can't be dishonored so well," said one of the other squad's voices as I lay on the stairs, something seeping through all my three pleasure spots. "Will you get hard after that seizure, Roger?" the young one asked mockingly. "Maybe not, but I've got a nightstick for that. Miss will come to know what her nether holes taste like."
"I think you're teaching me really well in your field," I said, jumping over a snowy root. “You only collected two genetic samples, but I have five.” “And from more worthy individuals,” said Double L. “At least they repaired our uniforms.” Stranger's hair curled in her pocket now. "Of course, you're right, you're becoming a good spy. Guys need to get up in someone's ass, we women need to convince guys to get into us on our terms." "The more I go on, the more I prefer women in every way," I lamented.
Within seconds, knives tore through our panties and shirts, revealing our round tummies. I squealed at the thought of our nipples cut out and our breasts burning whole.
The guy who bit Double L below the neck screamed first and fell to the floor in convulsions. He couldn't even protect his face with his stiff hands. The nanobots attacked quickly.
The four monstrous men parted, leaving Larissa with nowhere to retreat. My captor twisted my hands behind my back until I thought he was going to break my fingers. "Sigma," Larissa breathed. “C-351. The Magistrix.”
"So, you're not really nurses," said the burly guy with a disappearing ghost of satisfaction.
“Yes, we're pretending to be inmates,” Double L said, no longer meek. "Several pairs of eyes are guarding the Princess Tower for the prefect. He wanted to check on hostages by us with our special means without revealing all the layers of his secrets."
"We were just doing our job," the guy snapped. I was relieved because he showed that he believed her.
“I commend you,” Larissa replied. "In that case, however, I will only be half as generous to you as I had planned. You will take me to the hostages while my colleague here..." She pointed at me. “Will please you as much as she can.”
I didn't like it. Both because I hoped it wouldn't happen and because it seemed like an attempt to buy the men.
Guys must have missed it. One of them led the paralyzed squad member away, and one accompanied Larissa, but the remaining three clustered around me.
"We ´ll take her to fourteen!" cried one of them, and they hurried with me into a small room with a narrow table. I hoped no blood had seeped into the wood, for I had to lie on it stomach down.
"Pick up, beautiful spy!" I croaked at the sound of buttons undone and pants pulled down. I propped myself up on my elbows and knees, expecting the worst.
The youngest of the guys, with complete impudence in his face, grabbed my left hand, and I willingly helped him to get underneath me.
"Dinner is served!" he stated. I had already been trained to be excited by such words and prepared to serve in all ways. My body was really just another course of the day. It got wet between the legs unless it wanted them to slice it. The boy's member reared up, giving us both pleasure despite my stress. One, two… From the beginning, I set the pace of the intercourse, like during exercise, when I do push-ups. Initially, I didn't have to fake the pleasurable noises, but the guy suddenly shot up, which meant deep. It began to sting me raw under the womb, as was possibly intended.
"She needs it from both sides," the male behind me said, and soon I felt an indescribable pressure between my cheeks, wilder and more brutal than anything Arthur was ever capable of. When I slowed down, I was just clubbed across the back.
"You need something else to concentrate on," said the last man, thrusting the throbbing purple end of his member in front of my face. I took it in my mouth and ran my tongue over the suspected spots crisscrossed with red veins. The choking wasn't nearly as bad as the urge to go to the bathroom, but my anus was full of something else. I clenched my body, which apparently the gentlemen liked.
"Too bad the other one can't be dishonored so well," said one of the other squad's voices as I lay on the stairs, something seeping through all my three pleasure spots. "Will you get hard after that seizure, Roger?" the young one asked mockingly. "Maybe not, but I've got a nightstick for that. Miss will come to know what her nether holes taste like."
"I think you're teaching me really well in your field," I said, jumping over a snowy root. “You only collected two genetic samples, but I have five.” “And from more worthy individuals,” said Double L. “At least they repaired our uniforms.” Stranger's hair curled in her pocket now. "Of course, you're right, you're becoming a good spy. Guys need to get up in someone's ass, we women need to convince guys to get into us on our terms." "The more I go on, the more I prefer women in every way," I lamented.
Miras
Tribune
Chapter 7, Part 4 (1)
Zita
The night before the morning of Christmas Day, I woke up early, as I had every time since I was about seven. I wanted to look at the sky but stopped when I saw Therese at the window. I didn't want to disturb her. Her eyes were closed, and it looked like she was praying. But I wasn´t in the mood to go to bed either.
I looked over her shoulder at the tiny lights of the night darkness. Who is behind the stars?
I hoped it was aliens, that's for sure. With some luck, they see us and introduce themselves to us one day, but they are probably confused because we are facing each other all the time, and they don't know which side to deal with.
I tried to sleep again, but it was a lost cause. Even when I closed my eyes, I still had the sea of stars in front of them, and I thought about it until the moment when all that remained was the giant star on top of the Christmas tree standing in the courtyard.
It bothered me to be among so many people. I should stand out. Christmas would be more fun if someone wrote a more elaborate legend for the holiday. The Star of Bethlehem was a spaceship… No, wait, the Star of Bethlehem was a glowing creature that lived in many dimensions. It guided the Three Wise Men to the place where Jesus was born, to whom it gave one of her neurons, thus establishing a link with which it followed the humanity for a long time and when Jesus left us, it untrusted us to the invisible agents, whom we started to call Santa Claus, Ded Moroz or Befana. They don't bring real Christmas presents, but they influence children's minds so that in the future, experts will grow up to open the intergalactic portal to the flower-like space station that encompasses the core of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud.
Damn, what happened to me?
Zita
The night before the morning of Christmas Day, I woke up early, as I had every time since I was about seven. I wanted to look at the sky but stopped when I saw Therese at the window. I didn't want to disturb her. Her eyes were closed, and it looked like she was praying. But I wasn´t in the mood to go to bed either.
I looked over her shoulder at the tiny lights of the night darkness. Who is behind the stars?
I hoped it was aliens, that's for sure. With some luck, they see us and introduce themselves to us one day, but they are probably confused because we are facing each other all the time, and they don't know which side to deal with.
I tried to sleep again, but it was a lost cause. Even when I closed my eyes, I still had the sea of stars in front of them, and I thought about it until the moment when all that remained was the giant star on top of the Christmas tree standing in the courtyard.
It bothered me to be among so many people. I should stand out. Christmas would be more fun if someone wrote a more elaborate legend for the holiday. The Star of Bethlehem was a spaceship… No, wait, the Star of Bethlehem was a glowing creature that lived in many dimensions. It guided the Three Wise Men to the place where Jesus was born, to whom it gave one of her neurons, thus establishing a link with which it followed the humanity for a long time and when Jesus left us, it untrusted us to the invisible agents, whom we started to call Santa Claus, Ded Moroz or Befana. They don't bring real Christmas presents, but they influence children's minds so that in the future, experts will grow up to open the intergalactic portal to the flower-like space station that encompasses the core of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud.
Damn, what happened to me?