**Nicole**
I was sitting in front of the mirror, wearing only a scrappy piece of clothing that wasn´t in the picture – the black thong with glittering daisy bloom on the broader side.
Patricia looked over my shoulder and gave a long whistle as if my boobs could compare favorably with hers.
“Your innocence is deceitful, Nicole,” she said. “Mr. White is scattershot that he hasn´t sent you the gown, just some minisculities, but I think he is sewing the finest wedding dress.”
“And I would be making the groom suite? My soon-to-be mother-in-law has done all the work. I won´t leave the side of her son!”
Patricia opened the green lipstick, a second item White passed on, to be received by the hand he asked for in marriage.
“I will draw you little waves. Let him not get tired of you.”
“And I don´t wish that since…?”
“Since Paladins have connections and White shouldn´t overhear your fiancé´s first name. Trying to look like your mind is elsewhere? He will search for the other charmer. You will be free of James but robbed of Peter, who in turn will lose….” She quickly spread her arms, fluttering them like a bird learning to fly.
“Fight for Peter by spellbinding James.”
Dress for the event cultivated by White came on the dot, so I would pull it on and go. Glowing through the representation of Papilio butterflies with blueish wings, it got a bare back, and it was so tight on the ass I would flaunt it simply by walking.
In the morning, inmates proceeded sequentially on the waiting list. They weren´t looking forward to anything, but they waited.
James White was seemingly skimping on his care for lust objects. He chose me to rule over and that meant he eliminated ninety percent of names from the donated catalog, leaving five ladies to talk. He also convened us on the same evening session, in the front of his room, no less, where we looked at each other like kids taken by mommy to the dentist.
White opened the entrance, inviting us by the austere marching order.
We were all emitting regality. Irene, the friend of Pat and Ruby, in a dark blue dress. Petite Fuka in silver with the beveled skirt. Older Sherry in the black artifact from the past with a bustle. Gutiérezz, whose vents between jaguar spots set beast of the lecherousness free.
To this evening, I knew just the voice of James White and his fondness for abuse and “lesbians” of color. He turned me into his plaything, and he proposed I might not be a person again. I never imagined him as a shorty Eurasian with a small mouth, although I correctly estimated piercing eyes and weak arms. I didn´t care for his unproperly buttoned-up grey shirt and pants. The boy did the caring.
He was observing us, clearly contemplating some spiteful trick. We were smiling, not receptive to his tongue he couldn´t keep inside the mouth, suggesting all the fidgety male flesh, impatient in the sight of us.
White took possession of my hand and squeezed it, removing any comfort or gentleness he feigned with a kiss he positioned above my knuckles.
“My dad has seen your action photos, babe. He called you a jewell, but you are a lass worthy of pirate treasure. Shaking your booty and herself a reward for the sea police.”
“I would gladly give you map where you can dig for more, sir.”
Anything to reduce my sentence.
White pointed his nose in the air. “I´m more modest than it looks.” He looked over the other four.
“Do you think you can play snob girls in the shimmering clothes, cunts? Not a chance when you are attending the pair at the engagement party.”
He opened the wide wardrobe and dashed some hangers. “Change quickly.”
Ladies weren´t trying to hide their disappointment. Maybe White craved it. However, I didn´t see any shame in their eyes when they renounced all the elegant clothing. Sherry used to make millions, but here she was conditioned to the state that she made sure the man in charge saw her shaved pussy for so long as possible. Irene came from a similar background, and she slid off her panties first.
The new apparel was less distinguishing. It was another design of body underwear, striped in black and white like the old prison uniforms, including the matching caps. Every piece had a lozenge hole over the belly.
“I will not waste number tags on likes of you. I hereby sentence you to the community service. The community being me and the chosen one Orient Sexpress”.
He pulled me to the table. Glasses were empty, but the bar was offering swipes I was sure required a Teflon container. No, such a potency would cause combustion in the stomach of White, and my karma is nowhere that good.
Irene poured a stream of Savignon and leaned her figure in an S shape on the bar while White was telling me his life story practically from conception. Once upon a time, his father roamed Hong Kong in the search for a multiuse chambermaid, appreciating a guy who tips here. And that´s how daddy met mommy. Little James was growing up, with speed second only to his father´s shareholder values. “I am an adult. I should have a wife to serve me,” he elaborated. “And you girls are at your sexiest half-nude, punished, working or in the awe of the guys. You must be not angry at me, my chosen one, that we share the room with the bridesmaids. I can´t be busting it up with no chicks at my feet.”
That represented a single instance he showed some concern for anybody´s feelings. He didn´t care for Irene the bartender, Sherry cutting herself when she was preparing us vegetable toast didn´t move his small piece of heart. He gazed at candy-bringing Gutierréz and Fuke solely from the posterior.
And no, he wasn´t interested in the person sitting opposite to him, on my chair. James was talking, Nicole listening. Her past life was nonexistent to him before he locked on to her.
I burped slightly after my third glass. “Charm becomes a curse.”
White poured his rest back into the bottle.
“Very well. We can enjoy ourselves sober. Booze be damned. Does hurting others make your boiler steamy, Chic-Nic?”
“No, I am not inclined. Who should I be hurting for you, sir?”
“Everybody within reach, Chic-Nic. We are unguided missiles!” He snickered through his porcelain teeth. “Cunts! Go to the wardrobe and bend! I want all your hands on the wood!”
The bottoms peeped out like four moons, one of them broad and rockier, two tight and sweet, one just in the most desirable age- firm and alluring.
From the bedroom, White brought a whip whose length put our Holy Submission gear to shame. “I won´t strike them on the same place, but the art is to mark all of them,” White said. Then he flicked them. The long black line diffused the pain. Iren and Sherry cried out like some human mares as the red markings were pulsing on them. Gutiérezz and Fuka were acting up after they had their legs coiled in the sharp tail.
White used a whip as a scythe, bringing it down three more times. He reaped a scream, the remaining interviewees were collapsing on their knees and wrists, but they arched to him. White went to me, offering the handle. I would suck with a whip, and I did not want to lock gals in the torment.
“Sir, I was wrong! You are doing a handsome job!” I lifted my dress ceremoniously, and stuck a finger behind the waistline of the thong, continuing deep inside as if the pussy was starving. “We can start wedding night practice.”
White didn´t look entirely sure, but his gaze settled on my blowing belly. He threw the whip to the feet of lamenting women, and out of his pocket, he pulled out scissors. He went in my way to cut the thong. Adios, daisy. The man clawed the dress next, from the hem to the neckline. Adios, butterflies.
I had to ignite my passion while he was pulling me butt naked to his room and beyond. But it had a desirable effect. My muscles and labia awaken a water-belching monster. White showed me a space overfilled with water, a large jacuzzi, swirling as he got close, enveloped in yellow-to-green lighting.
He jerked my busy hand forcibly and submerged me in the bath. The warm stream massaged me, and as I felt the swirl all around the waist, my body was a little more accommodating to know a new lover. White spoiled fun a little. He pulled out my legs from the bath. “Stretch them as much as you can.” This wasn´t pleasant to maintain. And neither was baring his hands clasped on my throat after he pulled down his clothes. White must have liked to see me as defenseless, he drew my face, so I had to shut my mouth and breathe through a nose. Somehow he found enough space to insert one massive cock. I dared to close my thighs a little. I was afraid he might start to strangle me, but he just bit my heel. I kicked both of my legs. My waist and ass quivered. He seemed to deem it thrilling, bitting my toes on the other feet. He poked me whenever I was mad, and the sensation drove me insane.
White leaned to my ear. “I expect you to thank me once we´re done, Nic-Chic.”
I expressed my satisfaction quickly once he released all the grips and made me soak in his jizz. He left the bathroom dried but not clothed, and I heard him talking to the kissed-by-fire belles.
“Do you wish your whipping wouldn´t have stopped? You still don´t know what kind of swing my chosen one practices.”
There were some slapping and squealing sounds as he probably pressed them to answer him.
“Why would you be trying? She is docile sheep, the one you want to farm with,” stated the words in Irene´s voice.
He exiled us from his quarters. He might think of it as punishment in itself.
At night the friendly sluts were sleeping while I was decoding the present in the meditation. In it, I often caught a gleam of the past.
It was the wrong path to follow. I have only the now. When my father lost his job, and our mom became the breadwinner, I, and Steve, my hyperactive brother, were schooled all day since. Mom thanked him once that he made a new mission from his children, and he never got embittered. He shook his head despite us two listening. “Family was what I was always about. But wise people can find happiness in many things, and when they don´t, they will always have their spirit. As long as they live, everything is good. Everything is essentially good.”
Yet I thrived when many things were better. In the time of my second family…
*”Forgive me for not standing from the sofa, Peter. If the new Mrs. Yoon is going to work hard, as when old Mrs. Yoon was setting the stroke, she will grow muscles, carry you outside, put you to bed, and then smash you flat.” I reached for a biscuit. Some of the hard labor on the side of me, and Peter´s mother, should pay off in the energy.*
*Peter gave me a second piece in my free hand and sat next to me tightly. He cuddled my breast shamelessly.*
*”Attractive taken women are doing a disservice to the men of their life, when they are home, far from danger, and yet they wear layers of clothes. That should be punishable by law!”*
*I swallowed and turned to him. His nostrils flared, taking so much air one would believe he wanted to have a nose as hulking as his fat face. Well, his parents discovered I am skillful. Their son was rewarded with an empty house and me as a sanctioned mate.*
*”Layers stimulate the fantasy, Peter. Or the fifty-fifty approach.”*
*I pushed away his hand gently and unzipped my pants, standing up to shake them off and their dark colors melted on the carpet. Innocently, I showed my panties-clad bottom to Peter and swung the booty. Strolling to the center of the living room, I took my socks off by stepping on my feet and turned to my fiancée, deepening my smile. I slid panties to my knees, stretching them when I went on all four. I waved my hand forward.*
*”Your cat wants to have an actual tail. Meow-meow.”*
*Peter shed some layers of his own. “I need a backdrop, kitty.” He came back with the massive gree-and-golden pillow in his arms he threw far behind me.” From the parents’ bedroom,” he said. And he proceeded to make himself comfortable, seated and penetrating my body. In college I had two white boyfriends, and, yes, that made me accustomed to more giant junk. However, what Peter lacked in size, he made up for with the quickness of his pushes. Thankfully, the boy had endurance, and his peg was pushing for long and long, building up the way for my climax. When my moaning became audible, he jumped to me from behind, rudely grasping my breasts. He leaned us both back in one violent jerk, so I wasn´t on all four anymore I was sitting upright on his crotch while he laid on the cloth his mother and father might have used for his conception. He continued to hump, but suddenly it was me jumping in squat, afraid I would ever leave that smaller cock. It was just our second lovemaking, and we promised each other the third one should be ravishing me in my wedding dress.*
If somebody asked me why I wanted Zita Woodroof to help me drive White away, I wouldn´t be making up self-delusional excuses I didn’t believe myself about how I thought she might find a solution. No, I screamed to another Rapunzel that I am witless, and I like the warm feeling that she thinks of herself as the one who sends me to the right embrace. I choose her as my companion for the mass classes when I was tired of withholding contempt for my roommates, as in the Fridaý dungeon.
We were strapped nude on mechanical wooden horses, two dozen inmates, their labia hard-pressed from below by the edge.The ordainded exceptions to chastity belts are piling up. Malcolm is demanding.
“Slaves, either you will make me jerk off, or I will drown you in sperm!”
He´s pushing the limits lately…
“I will turn you a little rodeo, and you are supposed to moan in pleasure. Painful screaming can not be so hard, as my practice shows. We need just calibration for that one.”
And the triangle slid backward, touching deeper both my center of affections and partially the buttcheeks. It was chafing me and filling me up. Luckily, I turned my surprised yelling into a hedonistic sound of “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” It slid forward. The thing felt like derision, as a total humbling of me, and I knew if that bastard White were here, he would take me down and poke me. I would bruise, and worse, bleed, more than after losing my virtue.
Many of the class, Zita included, coudn´t bring their moans to the top, and four drooled on the floor. Mr.Director gave extras a break.
“Have you met your Paladin?” I asked Woodroof neutrally.
She moved her waist on the wooden horse. “Next week.”
“Which one?”
“They didn´t tell me. I can call him Master Ash.”
I have no idea how to stay serious when the conversation turns to pop culture.
“I´m sick of…,” I confessed, leaving the last word to her imagination.
“You must not be the only one,” Woodroof whispered. “He prefers something, and he must avoid a lot. You won´t marry him if he thinks the person he should be commanding smells foul.”
Malcolm announced this Saturday will be a study one. They insisted on us having a night behind the literal bars so that we won´t be relenting in our submissive mindset.
We told ourselves the subset of submission lies in the quickness of your adaptation. Cages open to the rude awakening, and you must make everything about you perfectly sleek.
I, and Zita had not too much to pick from when we were to select the Heiress for the park chat, but we followed Cindy to one table by the pond.
“Don´t you mind to be shared, dearest?”
“I must keep you in an ideal state for a new novel, Cindy.”
Bellinda smiled and poured us glasses of orange juice.
She was one tall girl with raven hair of the same exceeding length as mine, but she braided them into two ponytails. She had electrifying effect on people around, generated in part by round sapphire eyes and curvy hips. I heard rumors that because she is shagging Cindy, who is single, she must please some guys on other occasions, giving them pleasures they wouldn´t be able to extract from inmates.
“Ladies, I don´t envy your position,” Bellinda brought forward. “You are supposed to receive applications from men who would love to become aces of your life voyage. Then you will see how much popular you are. Who do you think will want you, Zita?”
That is a course for the park chats. To learn the talk between ladies about matters which should be of utmost importance to them.
Woodroof took a large sip of juice. “Larry from my class. He was polishing his small mirrors whenever I was around and he slapped my butt once after the game of dodgeball.”
“He was honoring you a great deal,” Bellinda said. “But the romantic part is that you can´t guess whose eye you will catch. I am ecstatic about Paladins, I would like to be hugged by Mr. Graham. He looks like some robust fireman!”
Cindy sniffed. “Fireman Kid loved every guy´s mistress. He was so busy he left out the distress. House full of skanks turned to ashes, unloved guys gave him a few gashes. They threw his members to be eaten by crows, for, you see, he used the wrong hose.”
Woodroof laughed.
“Composed it when I was younger than you,” Cindy boasted.
“I don´t understand the sarcasm,” Bellinda said. “Paladins will be on the best ideological and physical path thanks to their Institute. The future leaders.”
Cindy shrugged. “Johansson is interested in my literature skills, nothing else.”
“And White likes only my body,” I dared.
“You don´t wish to reproduce a lot?”
Woodroof answered instead. “I talked about it with Nicole. She is conflicted about being a subject of the desire of many men.”
“There is no conflict,” Bellinda said. “She must choose the one with the best genes. Eugenics should never be suppressed again.”
“Do we have a right to talk about genes-passing, Bellinda? I mean, we are here for enjoying other girls.” I saw the gleaming broad glasses of Deborah, another passing Heiress. “Are you dissatisfied, Sky Queen – Pirate Queen?”
“I didn´t expect to sleep with anyone but my Heir.” The lie knotted on my tongue and hopefully, I looked guilty.
“You just need a few months of training and you won´t think about anyone but your husband and women he will order you to shag.”
“Maybe that should be her detention,” Bellinda said. “Exposure to lesbianism.”
I couldn´t discern if Bellinda really wanted to suck up to a sapphic-digging White or if she was simply exhibitionist-minded. No matter where the truth lay, I was marked a dull girl by her for my comments. I guess Cindy´s cleverness worked only in her favor.
At the time of the usual Saturday sports break the older ones were redeployed to Lovemaking and at that moment I was made the requested third wheel. In her room, Bellinda took a couple of handcuffs from her kinky collection and bound my wrists to the chair. “You will regret thousand times you will be not able to touch yourself,” Bellinda goaded.
I wasn´t fighting down my urges seeing her as she stretched out her arms and made a jump like an agile cheetah. Cindy patted Bellinda on her shoulder blades and they soon had full hands with the fans of their skirts, with the wrappings on their crotches, stripping them one woman from the other. When they reached the top, Cindy was done faster because Bellinda wore nothing that would hold her breasts.
Cindy lacked any submission, getting into bed. She leaned slightly on her hip and popped her eyes upward to the smiling face of her lover. The rich spoiled daughter of the publisher disentangled her hair and hooped amidst the sheets. Cindy bounced, stretching her legs. The pussy peeped out like a rising Sun.
Heiress jerked her head. Bellinda looked like Venus in the tempest. On the other hand, her fingers slowly flapped the fluff of Cindy´s center of love just slowly. She petted gently part of her friend. Not a wounded one, I am sure they kept it fit and healthy although it ached sometimes.
Cindy pushed her upper teeth a little over her lip. Ms. Writer was plotting something.
She stroked Bellinda´s wrist and turned on her stomach, facing now Bellinda´s shaved crotch. She sucked on her clit, and I finally started to jerking the handcuffs, seeing Beliinda´s open mouth and kinda suspecting movements of her tongue are copying what the minx is doing down below. I didn´t know that feasting on the air could be so sensual.
When she came, she used her mouth on Cindy´s, licking now remnants of her juice. She wasn´t a man, but her movements started to be rough and demanding. It took another orgasm for her to change her demeanor. Then they stood on their knees and teased each other like girls who met on their first college day on campus. They feasted on their lips and their ears. I wondered if they would use a dildo, but presumably, they liked to caress their inner body only with the intimate contact of the other´s living tools.
*When they threw me out, an armed force was needed*, proclaimed the see-through shirt they gave me. Between my breasts, I had a stylized picture of a girl laying on top of the other. “If Cindy could beat the shit out of Bellinde, I would get her,” Claudia said, smoothing her blouse.
It was easier to find an inmate whom they didn´t choose for waitress duty, especially among privileged ones and underages. The fragile dishes of steamy soups and spicy sauces didn´t make our elbows or knees unsteady. The Heirs impeded us by the incessant pinchings, full-bottom slappings, ear-pulling, nipple-pulling, and douchebaggery laughter. As a “dull girl” I was made to take my skirt off, and the shine of my chastity belt was beckoning the guys.
Logically, they entrusted me with bringing a tureen of soup to the Paladin table. I covered my chest with it and tried to be more seductive by the tenderness on my face. Romano was glad to see me and poked White along with Graham for bigger acknowledgment, something that wasn´t necessary for Johansson, who has developed an obsession with the keyhole above my pussy.
Did I feel too much disgust to ask about the lack of White´s interest? I stayed stolid towards him until I put soup on the table, and he made one hundred and eighty degrees turn. He stood up and wasn´t satisfied with just squeezing me this time, he clutched my wrist into a proverbial vise.
“You bat-faced snake, I want you to take me to the cripple you want to fuck instead of me!”
He was serious, incensed, and fuming. The dining room relatively piped down, exceptions being those Heirs who chortled and pointed their fingers in his direction so that the whole table would see who was jester of the occasion. Graham was whispering some quick words to his ear and Romano put his hand to White´s elbow. Together they solidified into a sculptural group. I hoped to see wardens, but they didn´t rush in. Fine, White doesn´t know about Peter Yoon. He must be talking about my Heir, whom I didn´t see anywhere.
“Carl, come here!” I screamed desperately. He came, inhaling and exhaling. He had a hard time standing upward.
“Did I transgress against you, fellow… Fellow respectable guest?”
White shook my wrist in the air as if I was a rotten sausage. “Ms. Conrad was talking with this hussy in the park, and when I was debriefing her, she told me that my female didn´t think she is going shag none but you! If you have a plan a life with her…”
“I don´t want her. She is lousy in bed, that’s for starters…”
“You have never complained. Once, maybe!” I shrieked, suddenly obsessed about my honor. Heirs mimicked my voice with some hint of Chinese accent I did not possess.
“Then why does she want you?”
Carl panicked. He did not want to look into White´s mad face neither he wished to look into my eyes that were fruitlessly inciting the other Paladins.
“Maybe she wanted to set us against each other?” he asked sheepishly.
White slapped me violently. I craked in striking pain, but he didn´t let me fall to the ground.
“We can try to unite against her,” he told Carl.
*Continues in part B*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/w0zdwk/the_princesses_in_the_tower_chapter_5_part_3a