This was the one Maik-ling I was allowed to interview, which I did on three occasions, but only the last was of any length.  On the first, she was stretched out on the ropes, but her attention was distracted in many directions.  Through inventive use of chairs and platforms, she was being attended to by ten matrons: one on each nipple, one on her vulva, one behind spreading her buttocks to noodle into her anus, two on each foot (one sucking the big toe, the other on her other

Postscript   The above, completed my last night in the Palace, is being sent by regular channels without the “Top Secret” designation, because failing to send some kind of report would arouse suspicion.  What follows is added to the Top Secret version for reasons that will become evident. As noted, I was invited to share the reviewing stand with Her Highness atop the Palace Pavilion at the Review of the Soldiers.  Of course I was not on the top stand, but one a little lower

Homer Winant wheeled himself into the Recreation Center atrium, the big, high-roofed arena that held all the center’s equipment, the weight machines, the gymnastics area, the pool, and the volleyball court, with an oval track running around everything.  He liked to come here every once in a while, as he did now on this cloudy late winter evening, to see if everything was in order, the equipment in shape, the heat on.           He wheeled with his hands, hating those mechanize

It was a little before four o’clock when Angela saw Kai-Kai again, in the Student Union lobby. She had been concerned about him but apparently all was well now, or at least not a crisis. He was leaning on his backpack, bracing himself with one foot flat against the rough brick wall behind him, chatting with Marikit and a very white-skinned woman who looked about 35. The woman was strange looking for this campus and Angela figured she must be a P-3 or a P-4 here for the week.

After a decent interval Mr. Alkaras resumed with the few questions he had left for Ms. Korov. He said, “Let’s close the record. Thanks to you all.” “It’s 7:25,” Mr. Schreiber said. “Kai-Kai, you need some time to recover from that.” The four assistants helped the boy get off the horse, slowly and stiffly. He stretched his arms and legs, then looked around at everyone. “I’m going to go to the library lounge and tell those --elders -- that the impreg will be here,” Kai-Kai’s

Angela, having some uncommitted time, was going to go to her dorm room for a bit but decided to walk along with Kai-Kai as they went down the hall. In the lobby was a tall, heavy-set black woman of about 45, carefully and elegantly dressed in well-arranged graying dredlocks, a coat covering a long print dress, and heels. She looked like she was going to church. She had a beautiful, large face and a wide, warm smile. The Sire said, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hatwood.” Mrs. Hatwoo

It was around 11 p.m. when Angela, back in her dorm room after a stint in the library, went through her things and discovered she didn’t have her cell phone. Playing the day back in her mind she realized she must have left it at the Schreibers’. She remembered putting it back in her pocket after she dropped it in Kai-Kai’s closet, trying to get her arms around those big feathers. She must have dropped it a second time. It was late but she had to go back. She was greeted at t

The band milled around in the track area, between the Dad’s Club stand and the end zone, waiting for the signal from Sarge to get into formation for the halftime show.  They had gotten used to the clear plastic ponchos that covered them.  It was a struggle at first, but once they were fully on down to your knees, and you got your instrument organized under it, they were not so bad.         The band was trying to relax.  But the mobile camera truck loomed over them like it was

“Yes, the grass is lush and beautiful.  It’s a fine morning.  The cold dew is disappearing in the March sunlight . . . Tell me, how did you find this bint?” “That is an oft told tale.” “Yes, but I want to hear it from the King himself.” “It was the hot August, that cursèd Oswin’s Day.” “I wonder why you continue that Saxon tradition.” “One must concede some things.  On occasion noblesse oblige has its purposes. Remember we French are still of lesser numbers here.” “The

Rebecca, an early riser, had left.  Marisol was in her bathrobe and combing her hair, sitting at the kitchen table.  “We’ve got to wait until Muffy gets here,” she said, which only increased the mystery.  As Marisol’s hands went up to comb out a kink, her bathrobe separated, giving Tami a view of her cleavage, her breasts hanging down without the support of a bra.          Marisol smiled shyly, then while still combing out the kink, scrunched her shoulders together in a vain

“This was my old boyfriend and his dog,” Marisol said in her thick hispanic accent, pushing back her black hair and adjusting her bra in front with a hefty yank.  She was standing next to her desk, trying to decide whether to put the picture in the unzipped backpack in front of her or in the trash can next to the desk.  She decided to keep it.         Sitting on Marisol’s bed, Tami looked up at her.  Marisol was a tough chick.  Maybe she had to be because of the way she was. 

I was invited on one of her tours, to visit the railway construction already mentioned, specifically the digging of a right-of-way alongside a mountain.  This was heavy blasting and excavating work, and the smoke plus heat was oppressive.  Nevertheless she graciously greeted the workmen who were obviously thrilled to meet her and touch her hand.  It is apparently not forbidden here, as it is elsewhere, to touch the monarch’s person, though of course she was initiating all the

There was one shoot where I was really concerned.  Chyou was on all fours on a pedestal to which her hands and ankles were cuffed, while an immense dildo was being pistoned into her rectum.  It pierced her from a 45-degree overhead angle and was driven by a cam.  Her large breasts hung down to the pedestal base on which was glued rough sandpaper, and as they swung ponderously to and fro her nipples, proportionally just as large, were scraped over and over.  Sandpapering nippl

It took a while to lose them, those men who had seen Tami’s roadside doings and then kept following the black Cadillac, hoping for more.  McMasters got off an exit, then drove around some back roads, then got on the interstate, fortunately not getting lost.  “I’m hungry,” Wanda said, putting the remote control down and stretching with insolent laziness.  McMasters was hungry too.  Time to eat.  “Tami, you hungry?” he said, looking over to the squirming, dirty girl in her vibr

She alighted on the banded metal floor and immediately crouched down.  She turned.  No one was looking; but that was just people outside.  Maybe someone in the building across the street saw her through their window.  Looking in to the window she saw it was Elly’s room, not hers.  She thought of going to her own fire escape but that would involve a jump and would attract attention. ​         She tried to open the window and it was locked.  Still amazing herself with her newfo

After supper at a pizza place I walked around to see the shops, though most were closed at six.  The usual, hardware store, stationery store, hair salon . . . I turned my steps back to the green, then I see the high school is a couple of blocks away.  As I approach I see an open door and I hear cheering, apparently a basketball game.  It looks like anyone can walk in.  I do and I climb up the stands, almost stepping on people, kids and parents, and squeeze in to one of the la

Once again, Acting Dean Anthony Noyes looked out the big bay window of his ninth-floor office, this time onto a campus white with the aftermath of the annual April blizzard, and once again beheld Tami Smithers, the all but certain valedictorian, this time hanging from a bare tree whose branches were thick with white.  Her legs crooked back over the branch, red toes wiggling, she was conversing with some friends who were standing around, apparently in the process of climbing d

Acting Dean Anthony Noyes, tall and a little grayer and a little heavier, no longer being able to fit into the three-piece suits that had been his trademark, stood behind his desk and looked out the big bay window on this rainy March day, having hung up the phone.  His people had told him just what he had expected.  No filings yesterday in state court, and in federal court (the more likely forum) no filings either.  The statute of limitations on any suit Tami Smithers could b

“What a lebediker your wife is!”  That’s Ephraim’s client, Joshua Berger, Special Assistant to the Governor for Eleemosynary Affairs.  The two men in tuxedos are watching her from behind as she engages with the Governor’s wife and her friends, talking about some woman’s thing or another.  Her completely nude backside contrasts with their formal gowns.  Her tight little butt twitches as she laughs, champagne glass in one hand, her little “clutch” purse in the other.  She look

They were sitting around at their favorite table, Erendira, Sara, Lisa, Shelly, Corey, Keisha, Ahmad, Wendy, Hank, Naomi, Tommy.  Erendira was going through a microbikini catalog and discussing possibilities with Sara.  It was a frequent activity of BSC girls who wanted to be as naked as possible during the breaks but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, commit to being “Absolutes”.  Erendira was pointing to an unusual “suit”, a one-piece that consisted of a single string going into the cr