Once again, she initiated the conversation, with a courtesy. “Good morning, Mr. Zhu.”  As she stood respectfully before me I noticed that one of her cold-stiffened nipples was marked with what looked like ketchup.  With so many American visitors the crudities of the American diet here are an unavoidable presence.  She also smelled vaguely of stale hamburger. “I just have a few more questions. . . Do you take out the garbage every day?” “Yes.  Also I sweep the floors at nig

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