The Princesses in the Tower – Chapter 3, Part 2 – Zita [Maledom] [Male supremacy] [BDSM] [Humiliation] [Masturbation]

**Zita**

Be a foal.
Now be a kitten.

Or perhaps a puppy.

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

Lets play…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who said the boy must be friendly?

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

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

Here the animalization of women works for the both parties!

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

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

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

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

“Woof!”

Putting the insensitive rubber ear, he flattered me.

“The dog face is handier on you, Zora….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lets become broom and dustpan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I ´m free to imagining groin attacks…”

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

“Lady McLeaf, girl.”

“Lady, McLeaf… Is there an… Influx of European takers?”

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

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

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

Xenophobia tingles your emotions enough to bring about charged moment.

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

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

She get the scorning part.

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

I smell the poopies, chicken.

“Mercy, I beg you, Lady McLeaf!”

Georgianna narrowed her eyes and exhaled.

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

“Jump!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Half an hour pause”, bellowed co-lector.

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

“Most teachers are fuckers and think us as their puppets.”

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

“I suppose you wish they were vampires.”, I glossed up.

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

CLINC!

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

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

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

Never before was Barbara the most intrigued one of us.

“I will go after her… She found a way of doing something fishy? Maybe the rascality can be copycated.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Woodroof and Pignon, aren´t you?”

“And Butcher”, said Lydia. “Get everything where it belongs.”

“I haven´t broke any rules…”

“Yes, you did, by unlocking your chastity belt.”

“Geez, smuggling the key was like David Copperfield mastery.”

“Then begin to practice the Alcatraz act”, I said.

Montserrat was receiving the belt from Lydia.

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

“I meant from SHU…. Montserrat, couldn´t you wait?”

The belt was locked up and the stick was indistinguishable from it´s kins in the storage.

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

Lydia was stunned.

“You have not a grain of shame!”

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

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

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

“English, Spanish, Catalan, a little bit Portuguese.”

Mere year older and she would be the privileged one.

“Did Clara like you?”

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

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

Montserret´s eyes popped out.

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

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

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

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

“I can walk, Woodroof. And I can disappoint. Who do you think will make me a spy?”

Stacey ferrets around, tweaking leaves of the cherry tree. She masterly feigns fascination with the tiny fruit, ear pricked for automatic door. Me and Barbara are waiting for our new friend, no cover up.

My initiative left Stacey breathless. Well, she didn´t have to talk for the Morse fingering of the neverending Rummy.

*”I can mentor her, when the time comes. You are resourceful, Mata Hari, the strategist I have overlooked. Horny girl found another blind spot in the security, it would seem. God forbid Rosenstein employed such luck and talented double agent.”*

*My answers are not yet fluent.*

*”Suffers here, can tell. Little embarrassment, but it´s there.”*

*”I know you, Zita. You talk about spying, but I smell desire for getting closer to power.”*

I have defended myself and she wasn´t dwelling on it.

Montserrat came eleven minutes late. Slutty school uniform didn´t make her exterior more prude in the slightest.

She wasn´t corpse pale, she didn´t come across as struck bimbo, she had an undeniable presence of mind. She just forget to bring over the carefree attitude from the equipment room and greeted us by middle finger. Barbara twisted the hand in response. I split them up and took them away. Stacey behind trees went to the same place by the detour. Women in school and homemaking uniforms sometimes complained about our impractical procession, but stood aside as we needed.

Lydia was cooling off in shadow of the platan with Julia. I am at loss. Should I talk about how she is appeasing her because of unnecessary guilt?

“Something went wrong”, I clarified the cause of coming quarrel.

“Clara saw trough me! At the start, I mean. She asked nicely, whose idea was it, which smarty is looking for a way to eavesdrop on lectors! Then she asked less nicely. Woodroof, I got her only by tantrum, how nobody talks to me. She announced me I have a new duty then. If I want to be useful so much, I have two weeks to compose some social project for community. Thanks a lot!”

I am new to being a troublemaker. So I am not surprised to having been rescued and making troubles for somebody else. Becoming the debtor. Oh yes, visionary debtor!

“Must you do it alone, or can you have a team?”

“She didn´t say.”

“Georgianna told me principal wouldn´t be against some entertainment. We can have a hobby and later the prestige. Something funny, cultural, artistic, here is room to purify the frowsty living here.”

Montserrat cheered up

“I love art! And not just because it´s done by horny guys full of ideas!”

We have rerouted the discussion as I wished.

“What can we do?”, speculated Julie. “Write a magazine?”

I doubted that.

“They permitted it, not caring enough to redirect the resources and not trusting enough to not worry about encrypted text.”

“We have one safe option,” said Lydia. “To burrow one holocams and record some variety show. Affordable, presentable in dining hall and not hard to censor.”

My head turned into our future studio.

“I agree. I can write the scripts, Lydia too. Julie and Barbara can administer the technical stuff and you, Montserrat, have everything what the good host needs. Expressiveness and regime-friendly background.”

“Author of the project is the front face, Woodroof, I have the unequivocal entitlement. You are sponging.”

Acidity galore.

“Technical stuff? We are worse than amateurs!”, said Barbara.

“Don´t tread on my future scripts!”, I said.

“Girl, what´s this bird called?”

That was Stacey´s voice and code.

“I´m coming!”

Stacey was “accidentally” passing by amidst the foremost tree trunks of the alley directed to fountain-centered crossroad.

“That is titmouse,” I answered by the first bird species that wouldn´t sound generic.

“Fuck off from my blouse, titmouse!”

She get real and quiet the second she saw my puffed out cheeks.

“That floozy is a lost cause. You were grasping at a straw, so it ripped. The idea about the show isn´t bad for her fix, but for us it is counterproductive. Thompson is under the watchful eye, Therese did the insanely stupid thing and I am welcoming everyone, who visits the gym. Our room is high-profile, off the charts, so to speak. If you and Barbara are going to run the enterprise, the radar won´t stop beeping. I will never be spider on the web.”

She is so snotty!

“Stacey, compare your plan with mine… You have stolen from them and the future depends on the contrivance you will go to unmonitored zone in the time you are supposed to be on the room or in the best case scenario here. I am going to ask them for their devices to use my talent and kiss their ass and thus acquiring celebrity status, soothing the inmates and being one of few, who are allowed to have demands. Anyone can see, what is thought-out and what is longshot.”

Contrary to the stereotype, Stacey is a blonde capable of the sensible dispute, rational deducing and the assessment that is most likely to be the correct one. She is also proud, accepting the criticism conditionally.

“How about analyzing the plans from the outcomes? My plan is improbable to being carry out? Well, I knew that from the get-go. I stick to my guns, because I wanted to hear from one man, who will never lie to me. Your sycophantry will make them give you what they filter beforehand. Bones as a blow-out. I promise I won´t cripple you. I can see this activity as backup solution, while pondering faster, how to conceal my calls. Preferably not after your show starts…”

“Montserrat´s show.”

“Serves you right, voyeur. My advices should be directed to you two, I suppose.”

“They must authorize it first. I hope Barbara is wrong and we won´t pay for inexperience with cams.”

“Why not to find skillful woman there too? Claudia told me one of her roommates, another privileged one, is borrowing cameras several times a week, she than edits video on computers of mainstream ed. section.”

That didn´t sound like run of the mill slut.

“Her name?”

“Alice Kane. Nicole won´t say it in front of Claudia, but she is only of her room our Sky Queen tolerates.”

I went back to the girls and proceeded with the new information. Alice Kane wasn´t in the park as warden at the gate´s registration comnfirmed. She was in a phone-equipped office and they made her curious about the unknown underage interested in her.

“Who´s this? I don´t know you!

“Zita Woodroof, Ms. Kane. Send by Ms. Hamilton, the Mud Queen, friend of Nicole”

“Mrs. Kane, little cousin of an unknown sister-in-law! What do you want?”

I have described the situation.

“Do you have a story to the show?”

“I thought it will be the jokes and coverage of some happenings in Tower.”

“I am artist slash graphic designer. I´m drawing and writing Uraneia comic book.”

“Eh?”

“It is about space heroes mining the mystical energy of creation by fucking in zero G and later in vacuum. Their destiny: Ovum singularity.”

Porn with plot is the best one.

“I love comic books, Mrs. Kane..”

“Then you love the narration. I would record for you everything as full time cameraman and I would draw things day and night to the suspenseful plot. Stand up doesn´t make me move aside.”

“Mrs. Kane! I can come up with a Fantasy story!”

“Zita, come up with a Fantasy story and you can call me Alice. To passing my test, you must have it on park time tomorrow! ”

I hanged up the phone.

“Girls, we have to rehearse.”

The sympathetic scrawny figure came to the park at Sunday afternoon, almost at the same time as us. We gathered on the remote park spot. Alice spaced out the holocams and we positioned ourselves in the center.

“Not so fast! Strip naked, I need anatomically exact layers to project the holocostumes.”

“You will show us the final images!”

“That´s given, Julie! Come on, guys are not looking!”

We have stripped down, folded our uniforms and put them on each other, only that could end up a little dirty was mine. The breeze blowed lightly on me, it passed trough chastity belt and hair under my belly. Zita, you are too big to believe in invisible spirits…. The alabaster figures revealed we had a motivation to not stall the recording. The despotic education is one thing and some of the parts achieved notoriety in any context, like Montserrat´s legs, but other inmates seeing Barbara exposing mighty boobs in a park, they could whisper about her practicing.

“Don´t say anything incriminating, girls. Action!

Alice pushed the main button on the controller.

I have commenced the introduction of heroines.

“I am Zeena, sister to the heir of Trojan kingdom and the mage in training. I fight the ignorance.”

“Cut!

“”I am Zeena, sister to the heir of Trojan kingdom and the mage in training. I fight the chaos and disorder that threatens good inner workings of households in The Realm of the Ultimate Good. These are my comrades…”

“CUT!”

“These are my sworn sisters. Julie, the thief, menace of Atlanten library. Dhampir Lydia, known as the Butcher of dwarves. And Barbara, warrior from the savage Rooster tribe, daughter of the battle bards, immune to the torture. Today we will tell you, how we busted the insidious succubus!”

A moment of silence.

“Woe betide the injured soldiers! My hospital is full of those, who fall asleep and never wake up. They can´t resume the fight against forces of Werewolf Queen! I think she used some spell from her Grimoire of Beasts!”

Heroines discuss orders from the king. We go in circles for pictures to be edited into epic journey. We emphasize importance of rulers, soldiers and our husbands, doing what is best for us. We reach the menhirs serving as portal to the Dreamworld. Now we go all the way back, fighting nightmare creatures. In the hospital we encounter succubus, played by Montserrat, who uses her unnatural powers to making us kissing each other. I recall the soldiers and kiss the succubus herself. By drooling over mouth and both ears I cancel her magic and petrify her.

We had a long discussion how to reform her in the end, so Mayson will approve and we won´t get crucifying squad of inmates up to our asses. So, I wrote up speech about disadvantaged birth that can be overrun by the correct life choices. Let people choose the preferred subtext. Succubus joins team as consolator of the sexually deprived ones.

Alice hasn´t intervened this take. I pampered the idea she is admiring my tale, thinking it wouldn´t be out of place in her saga.

“Girls, the result will be on the Ed Woodish side, but I guarantee I will draw everything in a week. You are fun that will make up for it.” Montserrat, fully dressed, did high-spirited launching speech and we thanked Alice, glowing.

If nothing else, the next days are intoxicating, the commitment propelling us. Alice was hard on herself. Landscape and the menhirs turned out magnificent as did the Dreamworld, the hospital was serviceable and the clothes maybe lacked the details, but we wore as much virtual texture and armor as medieval person realistically would. Georgianna came at my invitation to the park too. She should push through the thing she seeded the idea for.

“You have hit the jackpot! That´s what I call believable!”, she said.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. Now we´ll go to Mayson. ”

Georgianna´s smile was sad.

“Girls, you are not at the good start. Rosenstein will be just satisfied, not involved. I can vouch for you and the privileged one is a part of your team, but I´m the least respected lector and the same can be said about Kane… To have a solid ground, your request should be backed up by the third pillar. Very trustworthy co-lector.”

Don´t show a hint of weakness!

I stepped farther from the other four.

“Lady McLeaf, send us to the First Co-lector´s room!”

Alice grabbed her head.

“Hardened veterans of sex industry live there. Privileged ones below the pig feces. They will degrade you and what I have managed. Go to anybody but Cabrera.”

The people are impossible. For their haughtiness they ignore the nuance. I took the holoset into my arms.

“I can always descend. Champions thrive for the top.”

Georgianna let wardens accompany me, Montserrat and Alice. In the elevator my knees started shaking. Couldn´t I´ve been praised for my choice? On the new corridor I am hallucinating red light lamps.

The door is real.

Whores of Babylon. Five of the reprehensible ones.

Knock-knock.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hf30ic/the_princesses_in_the_tower_chapter_3_part_2_zita