**Barbara**
Meat. Dead meat.
I cut a steak for lunch, and repellent tassels flew out.
What did the warden say?
“Romano’s lungs were full of water, and a piece of debris tore through his chest. Disgusting like the contents of my plate. And I almost added them to the wreckage.”
I ate just enough so they wouldn’t think I was on a hunger strike. My stomach didn’t want to be alive. It was trying to expel the mustiness brought on by Enzo’s death. We fucked, we could even get to know each other. If Jenine, our dear savior, killed him, I don’t want to be saved by her anymore!
After lunch, according to the latest schedule update, Homemaking was supposed to follow, but Weatherby and Arnolph took us, the Loyalists, away. In the cabinet, they introduced us to our extraordinary testing – New Family Week. During that, we will be visiting the co-lector and her lover to live with them as their daughter and help in the house.
“You will address them as ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. No sarcasm or play-acting. Father has the right to call you by a different name for the lesson,” Weatherby commanded us. “You will maintain trust and obedience towards them. You will live as expected of you after you are released and process your experiences for your fellow students.”
As he uttered those words, I wondered if it is going to be as much the test for co-lectors as for us. Wall-raised daughters on the one hand, diligent mothers on the other. Both seemingly favored women, who, however, are warned that they have to repay the debt for consideration. Fake parents of mine were played by Roberta Brunkow and her Heir, Martin Ingham. Mom had all her exciting parts covered with a dark hazel evening dress. I got white boy shorts and a crop top. On the walk, Ingham lifted his legs like a man after a medical procedure (or an invalid who would regain his movement after one) but his gaze sought me regularly, and it was not for my safety or benefit. Since the assassination of the Paladins, something in me had been dying and coming back to life. That never-ending change whispered that I had to obey and not hesitate when given instructions, even if a fake father draws a number on me for those interested in marriage (555-666-3469, perhaps?).
We went to a library disguised as a mall, where I understood that the women’s and children’s sections were united, like in many industries. I wanted to rummage through the clothes on display like an epileptic ferret, but Ingham picked out a few pieces and told us what he would pay with his credit card.
At the second stop, I understood why we don’t do this in virtual reality. Ingham told us that he wanted meatloaf with a Greek salad and French onion soup for dinner. I chose everything I needed in the kitchen, and under Brunkow’s supervision, I went to cook for Heir in one of the more luxurious rooms, supposedly vacated by Paladin. We brought it to Ingham’s table for five people.
The two of us ate in the kitchen corner.
Could it be Enzo’s suite? The odds are one to four. Rest in peace, meatloaf. I squinted. Rest in peace, jolly good fellow.
“I’m a little exhausted,” I said over the waning goodness. “Don’t we have double biology class now, mom?”
“You have one, and Trevorrow will teach it,” Brunkow explained sternly.
Women are treated like cattle here, but the pasture is green, and the cowboys know how to manage their time.
It meant the Loyalists arrived during a break, and the wardens ordered them to jump into the toilet. I was in the cabin unnecessarily, so I commented out loud. “The food is grateful that I cooked. It does not leave me.” Lydia’s laugh answered me to my right. “My dad told me I couldn’t pick up a salt shaker. I hope his stomach dislikes his dinner!”
“However, some creatures can live in their intestines and eat him!” That was Amber Bernstein outside of the Loyalists’ circle. I laughed and got out of the cabin. The smile passed me because Trevorrow was standing in front of the sinks, her eyes storming. I guessed correctly that I could wash but not go out into the corridor. The teacher waited until Lydia and Amber came out and addressed us all.
“Jokes against authority figures will not go unanswered. I warn you that insulting men outside can cost you up to 30 moral credit points. That’s why you will get 30 strappings on your bottoms, Butcher and Bernstein. You only caused it, Pignon, so you have a reprieve, and you will watch. Next time you transgress, I will punish you the same.”
We, convicts, would prefer to be able to go back to the toilet right now, but this is how we had to tame our gestation in class, with Trevorrow testing anyone but us. Amber and Lydia were to receive a lesson on human nerves.
She unchained us, and we had to ritually accompany her to the office, where she made a ritual note about my probation.
“Please, fellow lector,” Lydia begged. “We were answering. We wouldn’t have thought of it ourselves!””So today I will be merciful,” she admitted. “I´ll give you the first fifteen on your panties. Bernstein, you’re going to hold your classmate.” Amber stood still while a shaken Lydia walked around the table. With a big smile, Trevorrow made her lie down on the table and reluctantly adjust her lavender panty ass. Amber took her arms. They both paled, looking into each other’s eyes. The teacher did not delay.
“Owwwwww! I’m sorry!”
“That’s wonderful! Then you know you had it coming!”
Leather was giving a hot kisses that clung to her bottom tighter than the fabric of her underwear. Every scream of Lydia must have been heard a little further away, and Amber’s eyes wet with tears, even though it wasn’t her turn by a long shot yet. When the first half of Lydia’s punishment finished, and the girls were about to take turns, one of them let out a happy sigh, but the other had to ask me to pull up her skirt. The teacher divided her punishment into three sequences of five – the first normal, the second more symbolic, and the final hellfire bombardment, during which Lydia held Amber by the elbows. The clapping and roaring formed a harmony, the rhythm of which the teacher had to enjoy.
“So much for the merciful part,” Trevorrow declared. “Now lie down next to each other and show me your bottoms in all their decaying glory.” The fact that they were getting on a bare did not mean that the teacher spared them. On the contrary, she beat them all the more, determined to make the girls squeal at the punishment and sob loudly after it. She systematically alternated between the burning bottoms, anxiously making sure she was equally strict on both. Amber and Lydia begged her not to have to put on their panties when the strap instructed them one last time.
“Nasties need more heat,” Trevorrow joked, holding up her arm with the attitude adjuster.
That convinced them.
Human cruelties and condescension reminded me of the kindness with which Enzo cared for his neighbors. All I had to do was look at Louisa. She reminded me of him and that he had fallen asleep forever. He could disappear from the world, but not out of my head. So, I joined Therese in prayer right before the taps. Zita would never feel my blues, and Stacey wasn’t coming back until about midnight. I prayed for peace of mine, and that of the late boy, without a death wish for anyone. I begged to make bad things more bearable.
The girls from our room liked the gym. It may have contributed to the fact that they haven´t caned any of us for slacking in for over two weeks. I was sad, but eagerly hopped on the treadmill, strapped on the scanner, and turned on the thing. Before that, I heard mean words during the morning warm-ups, as did everyone in our non-voluntary group. With me, people mainly remembered how overweight I was at the beginning of the school year and how my manners had changed since then. I preferred not to respond to the sneers that morning. My sense of humor spoiled enough things yesterday.
I was running on a treadmill, imagining myself chased by an ape that satisfied himself with Pepper. But I must have messed something up. The treadmill stopped, and the words “Biological Change Detected” flashed on his monitor. The warden took the scanner from me and looked at the detailed description. She urged me to go to the infirmary with her baton. She whispered something to the nurse, who ran me over with an orange light hand lamp-gadget.
“It analysed her state awesomely,” said the nurse in surprise. “Fertilized egg!”
Holy Mother-
Holy Me?
They put me on a bed and let a male doctor and two nurses look after me. They were hysterically checking to see if I was missing something. I think that kind of attention suited the First Lady after she broke her legs and at least one arm at a dance performance. At the same time, my body felt the same as when I tried to receive God’s intervention yesterday.
Enzo- A guest I should know better than to fuck- Tiny particle of you survived. I’ll try to make it- more alive every day? Larger? It will unknowingly drain my nutrients and burden my body. Lamely will walk me, mom, oblivious of the top reason why people have sex. Not even Viola did it that quickly, and Dwight managed not to die, not to leave his Pignon to the ogres.
Mayson came into the infirmary in a frenzy, slapping men and women. He extended his sweaty right hand to me. The principal didn’t squeeze me too hard but held me for a long time.
“Congratulations, and thank you for your initiative, young lady!” bellowed the man. He let go of me and sat on the bed. “Expected baby couldn’t choose better parents.” He winked at me. “You showed a willingness to come to our aid even before the end of your first year, and fate brought you together with Mr. Romano´s poor father and mother-” His voice faltered, then he finished the sentence “… who are giving me a lot of grief for long days. Miss Pignon, I think I can absolve you of Loyalist meetings.”
I politely declined. There was no one else here to support me to bask in the joy of it or mourn the loss.
“Your new positions will make up for it!” Mayson assured me. “I promoted you to the privileged one with immediate effect and will negotiate with Romanos sending the surrogate groom as soon as they wish. The goal of the negotiations will be the date and conditions of your extraction from here.”
I thanked him politely and opened my mouth like a fish, which is just a little less gabby.
“Bring the discarded chair!” I wouldn’t be surprised if some diner stuck food in her throat. Glass-shattering voice of Arnolph changed the simple request in the microphone to the sound of a military band.
They made room for me at the privileged table and Arnolph revealed to everyone that I was preggo. According to the existing model of society, I was praised for my efforts, and I should also have respected the man who is no longer alive today, to whom I owe it, and whose legacy passed on to me.
People weren’t looking at her, they were looking at me. I inadvertently ran my hand over my stomach. Regular inmates were curious if the knocked-up girl still had something to say about herself, and a number of strippers or other women with an erotic career tried to scare me with their tightened eyebrows. I looked down at my flat stomach, which was supposed to swell again in a few months. “I will be a nice mother, I promise. I will marry a father who will probably look like your real dad. You will come to this world in a nice place. Your parents will prepare it for you.” Arnolph quickly sat me down.
“You’re sitting where Pepper was,” the woman to my right whispered. Irene Baird. “We’ll like you about as much as her.”
I looked around and reached for the tea with a battering hand. A floozy sitting across held my hand and poured three-quarters of a lemon into it. “You must drink now, breeder.”
Someone didn’t figure this out. The privileged thought about me as kindly, as the moral inmates thought of them.
“The child can be thoroughly stupid when born because the mother forgot the pills,” Irene pointed out.
She already had an empty cup. I poured my time into her and took two warm croissants. I don’t feel an increased appetite yet, but I wouldn´t limit myself. I will try to see how it will be.
“If you ask me… At last, I have a younger girl here to give advice!” that’s what Cabrera said. “Welcome to the club, Barbara!”
We high-fived.
“Welcome to the club, Barbara!” This time, a thin black woman enthusiastically greeted me. I have never noticed her. “My name is Helen, and they bully me too because I wanted to be here, but we earned our privileges.”
“Welcome, Barbara.” Alice supported them.
“Welcome, Barbara,” Claudia remembered that she knew me.
“Welcome, Barbara. Grow up, rest of you!”
What got into Ruby Caine?
Frowns turned upward, and I didn’t allow myself to look back at my virtuous comrades. It could also be because of how they finally accepted me that I suffered from conflicting feelings. In addition to the third croissant, notices prepared for Therese or Zita also helped me. But that would go if the spokeswoman, stocked with news, wouldn’t pat me on the back.
“This is Cassandra and Lola,” she presented the wardens in bulletproof armor.
“They’ll protect you for the rest of your stay, which will also have an altered program. You’re excused from the Art of Holy Submission, and you’ll only be left with Androcentrism from the Mainstream Education, where you’ll no longer be a chair to a classmate. Of course, you’ll still have to attend side programs like New Family Week. You will be able to self-develop in your spare time, but you will have to consult your intentions with us.”
“Am I eligible for therapy?” Why did my voice waver instead of resonating with the most venomous sarcasm?
“Of course! The session with Mrs. Rosenstein will be tailor-made for you, and you can safely consult her about your shock.”
The inmates were getting up and were no longer curious about what I was doing. The exceptions were my roommates and Nicole. They were looking for me, but the wardens had already pushed them away and were warningly beating on the bodies exposed by the strap harness. I couldn’t tell them anything when I passed them.
Zita shook her head.
“Did you even realize this? You’re going to be called Barbara Romano?! That’s like some guy being Hernando Aztec!”
I have to ask Sophia if Cassandra and Lola have removing the teeth of former friends in their job description.
Clara was waiting for me outside her office door. She took me from the wardens and kissed me on the forehead. “I’m glad I can help you with the life landmark,” Clara told me. “Ensuring a happy mother is a basis for an excellent life for the baby.” “That is what I want most of all,” I testified. “My child will have a well-secured life.” Son or daughter? *I have to make special arrangements if I deliver a girl.*
“Sit down.”
I took back the wing chair where Clara had scared me so terribly. “I feel like everything in the world is conspiring against me. I didn’t want to have kids yet, and that guy was cool, but he died, and now they made me live with a new bunch of women and-”
Clara put her hand on my knee. “Honey, I know you want to talk, but our administration is just as taken aback as you are. It is my fault the girls mistrust the principal and his counselors. Leave solving problems to them.
Of course, you are emotional. The Mr. Father usually helps expecting mother-” She looked sympathetic. “You have me here instead of him. We´ll talk, and if we have more time, I will teach you some breathing exercises.”
“Are you going to tell mom and dad?”
“Romanos will invite them to your wedding. The things will be a matter to change before then, and your old folks should not be confused out of all the developments.” I snapped my leg to withdraw her claw. The hag had no way of knowing it was dishonest on my side. I will message mom and dad tomorrow, the day after tomorrow at the latest.
“There is one more way to relieve your current stress.” Clara got up and came back with something she took off her desk.
I looked at the object. The counselor was holding a massive hairbrush in her hand. A flat area of brown, yellow, and black spots glistened on the flatside. The beautiful thing and the wrist had to feel it. Not that it should be the place that would hurt me.
Clara handed it to me. “Therapeutic spanking. The pain forces the organism to expel the stress. Not many girls go for it, considering they beat them in the classes, but with your workload, it might do the trick.”
I slapped it on my palm. Yeah. If someone hits me with it at speed, I might regret coming here, but maybe I’ll think more clearly. I also deserve it for what I did to Amber and Lydia. I gave her back the hairbrush handle first.
“I agree. Spank me.”
As Clara herself said, we had rich experience in receiving thrashings. She lacked the time to answer, and I was already on the wing chair facing backward and pushed toward the person who was determined to make my sitting uncomfortable for the next few days. I forced the skirt to stay up on the second try, and the panties wrapped around my clutched knees. The asscheeks were wrapped in air and cooled by the metal touch of the chastity belt in the middle.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” Clara said encouragingly.
“I am. My ass and head need it.”
“You can also guess that it teaches you how to deal with the child when he is naughty or crying.” The area of the hairbrush covered a wide spot on my right buttock. “For now, we’re all about blood circulation. A little warm-up won’t hurt.”
Tap-tap-tap-tap. The first four strokes were just smaller strikes from a short distance, but the fifth one… Phew, it was like she was scolding me for something, and I was sure that a dark red spot started to form on my ass. I was beginning to doubt if I had made the right decision. I gritted my teeth, and Clara repeated the whole thing. My ass was already throbbing with strong pain in two places, and it warmed me all over so that I could melt the snow with it. But I indeed relaxed. So I’ll let the counselor do her job.
“Now get ready, Barbs. It’s going to be normal thrashing.”
To my misfortune, I looked at the wall and saw Clara’s shadow stretching out. I was horrified by the force she was putting into the blow. I gripped the backrest tightly and…
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The hairbrush was now landing on its target with twice the force of its worst blows before. It hurt almost like caning after losing the match. I also kicked twice, for which Clara punished the offending thigh.
I thought I was going to cry my face off, but Clara only added to the strength, and never took it away. She stopped only around the fortieth stroke when I stopped moving because I was afraid of what the slightest movement would do to my ass.
“Did that calm you down, Barbs?”
I couldn’t understand much through the sobs, but I appreciated her performance. Anyway, I had other things to worry about now, and I will never ask for therapy again. Perhaps I felt a little unreasonable joy in the company of Cassandra and Lola. We went to New Family Week. Slowly.
Ingham did not let me go without consequences in front of the virtual reality room. “Eleven minutes past the deadline! You… I’m not going to call you Barbara… How about Zoe? No, I’ve got it, Vivian! I know you’re worried, but you have to respect your parents. If you don’t want to come with us, you won´t certainly mind the educational delay.” He sat down in a chair in the hallway.
“Over my lap!”
This didn’t work out for me.
Our “family trip” in virtual reality was organized by Brunkow, choosing one of the Biology lessons applications. Computer created a zoo where enlarged insects were exhibited instead of normal animals. Enclosures, like those intended for rhinos, were inhabited by the longicorns. The dung beetles moved their dung up the mounds, fascinating despite the stench. The trees here were not grazed by the giraffes but by praying mantises. Children had to be careful on the twisted bridge to avoid sticking to the web, but they couldn’t help but worry about the rusty spider, which returned their gaze and loomed over them like a dark cloud. The most extensive installation was the “bee pavilion” – a section of the hive structure where we admired the striped workers running the honeycombs. Kids received candies at the exit.
Ingham settled his “wife and daughter” beside an aviary with a cocoon from which the Red Admiral emerged every ten minutes.
“Maybe we should take a flight,” he suggested and pulled my hand so I wouldn’t miss how the dark wings marked with variegated edges and spotted white unfolded. The daughter Vivian, eager for more conveniences of the world under a magnifying glass, asked her mother to agree with her father, and she put her finger on the stop marked with the image of a dragonfly on the zoo map. The digital theater, in which we were supposed to learn, did not fall behind the comedy played for “daddy”.
The dragonfly in the giant edition retained its contradicting charm. Til you jumped on, it looked menacingly like a natural spitfire, and at the same time, it was clear that when she sat on a rose (or this case, a redwood), she doubled the beauty of the honored plant. I couldn’t help but wonder when we took off, and two pairs of wings flapped around us. Space, as the only commodity, proved to be slightly lacking on the narrow body. Ingham sat in front, Brunkow behind him, and I on their tail. Only my sore ass didn’t enjoy this ideal child’s ride.
“Finally detached from earth and free from the dictates of heaven!” Ingham shouted to the sky far above, yet seemingly at hand. “Vivian, considering what happened to you, you were already eighteen, right?”
I had to confirm this and was reluctant to remind him of his role.
“We’ll rest for a while. You and Roberta will get undressed.”
Basic command of guys. Like saying “sit” to a dog. Ingham ordered the dragonfly to land at the gift shop. Brunkow and I stood up awkwardly and threw pieces of our clothing at the crowds of visitors. If those people existed, we’d both probably throw ourselves off the roof.
“That corpse had a taste,” Martin assessed me from the pubic hair. “Now I wish this simulation isn’t completely physically realistic.”
He requested ropes from the system and tied my naked figure to the right front wing. He immobilized Brunkow on the opposite side at the back. The virtual relay was not abiding by physics, and I was swaying back and forth in the next phase of the flight. Ingham loved the show. At first, he just tickled my pubic area then he stuck his finger in my pussy. Forced excitement and vibration on my back made me come sooner than when I lost my virginity. Ingham made me shiver, and I hoped that nothing but his finger would get into my privates.
Ingham flew just below the clouds with the dragonfly and lay down on it. He directed his head seldom at Roberta, mostly at me, picking up on the feminine helplessness. “I used to make figurines and dolls myself, but I have to entrust this composition to the automatic systems,” he noted. “But not before I get my desired virtual lover – the hot ant queen – programmed.”
“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”
This indicated that we should leave the VR, and Ingham was not against that. He made it a little worse for me by stepping on the sun, but the desire to dehydrate me passed him in drastic half a minute.
“You’re a good girl, Vivian,” he complimented me. “I guess you even made love humbly and chastely with Mr. Romano, like a perfect bride. At the same time, you have to be a hooker to do it again with his replacement. Ha! You are the last named privileged one and the only one who they will dare not to sully.”
“The privileged ones can be dirtier than they are?” I asked in a naive voice. “They’re gradually breaking them down.” Martin sighed “Golden girls mustn’t get too much prideful. Our party has other concerns, but bosses told us they are lowering their position. They will keep their advantages, but soon we will have to give them some malice, and in the end, you, the young ones would get the order.”
Every woman, without exception, probably has to ingratiate herself with men to be respected. Plight, when a country brings up its men to have a high standard. And I was supposed to be avoided by the wrongs. If I get angry at the whore-gang in the future, I can tell myself that the joke is on them. It won´t mean squat for me because the inconveniences will hurt even the kindest of their bunch. Not to mention that I thought I’d be here a year longer than any of them, and I’ll be out months earlier. I hope I can still help Mrs. Clerence recover until that happens and Louisa comes to terms with herself.
Brunkow took me out of the VR room to hand me over to her wife Sylvia. Underages found out about their relationship after the first weekend we spent here, and most of us looked at them as siblings so it wouldn’t be so weird, but I, whenever I remembered Mom, Dad, sometimes even Viola… I wondered what it must be like when they kiss, when they touch, confide in each other, and cement their bond that could become a family.
God, why didn’t you make me a dyke? I despaired. Maybe I found the reason. Sylvia led me to the library to show me some volumes on parenting. But I wanted to do something else. I stopped at the spot, and the wardens had to point it out to Slyvia. “I want to talk to the principal. Immediately! But first, Cabrera!”
I liked the initial rendezvous better. Cabrera received me like her relative and thanked me for stopping by her place. We met as friends and parted as friends. Meeting Mayson was nothing like that.
Principal had two shots on the table, one with colorless content and the other with yellowish-brown content. He was contorting his face into conflicting expressions in front of the mirror and repeated something to himself in a low voice, but I couldn’t guess the number of words, let alone their meaning.
“The cliché says it should be the best day of your life…” Mayson turned to me and walked over quickly enough to deliver me to a seat. “But I know how it can spoil what the ladies dreamed about.
Whether for the next month or even for life. Good thing they have so many mentors! That’s why we have you here, after all, faster than I expected you to be.” I gave him an evil smirk with my tongue showing, and spoke in a little harsher tone than I’d ever allowed myself to anyone.
“You talked about the Romanos wanting to get to know me. I could get in touch with them now. The surrogate already knows about me and should speak to the one he enters an arranged marriage with.“
Mayson shifted in his chair. “Don’t want to see them. The parents are grief-stricken. I’ve talked to the father and then to the mother. Never been on their feet together. The younger Romano supposedly doesn’t even want to admit it happened yet.”
I sobbed. “I know… Try it anyway. They’ll see someone Enzo liked in me. That’s what will calm them down.”
Mayson stared at me blankly. “Look, I want to prepare you, and when I say that, I mean it. I told them that you cry into your pillow all the time, and you don’t want to talk to them. I want you to know as much as possible, about how they wish to imagine you. So they will be grateful to you and me.”
I jumped to the table. “You’re making me an irresponsible bimbo?! I know what I’m supposed to do, and I need to get to know them to fit in.”
Mayson stood up and braced himself with his hands. “Honesty is nice, but this is about getting my clients what they ordered. There isn’t a difference between the right kind of pizza and the right daughter-in-law anymore. I can’t let them down when their son died here!”
“So, according to you, I won’t be a good daughter-in-law? Probably not, when you reassigned me to the whores, and you don’t even respect them anymore. You don’t respect anyone!”
“I must respect the thing you have in your womb,” Mayson stated coldly. “And because of that, I now have to spare and isolate you appropriately.”
According to him, wardens taking me to the infirmary, where they bound me with plastic handcuffs, spread-eagle, was appropriate.
I already forgot to be reserved. Due to my current position, I cursed and jerked the whole way and defended myself even when they handcuffed me. They needed to calm me down, so they removed my chastity belt, pulled out a special double dildo, and stuffed it in my ass and pussy. The more I thrashed, the greater force it thrust into me. It was also equipped with grooved wheels, rotating me there and unpleasantly rubbing the places that should have pleased me.
I succumbed to the pressure, and my body took so long to recover that I didn’t even know it and suddenly noticed with horror the evening tint of the sky. Nurses avoided me. They only made sure I was breathing about once every half hour. Casandra and Lola might have been given guard duty outside. In the early evening, someone I knew visited me.
“Basma!” I screamed and also took a breath. “Don’t you know, will they bring me something for dinner?”
She denied it. “Mayson wants you to get a little drink, and then she won’t let you out until the morning.”
I didn’t like that, and now that I lacked the dildo between my legs, I rejected humility and obedience. Unlike the small bottle of water.
“You know what? I might stay here, but go to see Cabrera. I want her to know while she can still look at me.”
As Basma walked away, I kept returning to the conversation with the first co-lector in my head, which lulled me to sleep.
*”People have described that similar things have happened to them,” Cabrera admitted. “Belittling us… Breaking us… It felt like nonsense to me when I started with the craft. One of the many nonsense guys have in their heads, and it tired me. Then I stopped brooding over it. The more we like humiliation, the more they will like us.”*
*”It would be worthy of public knowledge,” I urged. “People are different. Those who grew lazy may not be as understanding as you, and it will recoil on them. Hell, they might end up like the one beat up for sticking a knitting needle in Harris’s nose.”*
*She smirked. “Not even a day with us, and you are already looking after the interests of the home team. Don’t worry. We are the alliance. With that octopus, the certainties of people who are more respected in the Tower than us caved in, and they will slowly trample around us. Mayson didn´t take out all the shards from his shoes.”*
I don’t know how long I slept. I was wood-stiffen in this position. What´´´ s more, in the dark and the air shaken by the rustling, I was as close to the rest as the Vatican is similar to China.
Figures gathered around me. Some of them I estimated to be women, but there were also clearly men.
“Who are you?” I screamed when a long object in the right hand of one of the unambiguous guys flashed from the dim light of the outdoor lamp.
“Commando of rescuers,” said a female voice. Helen.
“We’re hunters in need of a mascot,” Ingham said playfully.
“We cannot allow Mayson to tarnish the memory of the one we fight for.” I didn’t know this voice. It belonged to the guy with the blade.
“That’s bullshit.” Suddenly I stopped being interested in the attention. “I’m only supposed to stay here until morning.”
“We piss on facts! You are the causa belli!!” The glare of the blade flashed across the barred window and the sky beyond.
The cuff on my leg tore in two.
“Principal merely directs. Our fathers told us how to rule!”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/10n8cln/the_princesses_in_the_tower_chapter_6_part_3