Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
A stab of discomfort from my bladder, so severe that it brought a whimper to my lips, called me from my thoughts. I felt my face yield to the torment and the humiliation, the corners of my mouth turning down and my brow furrowing. I closed my eyes, tears leaking out from under the lids. I had to unfold my arms so that I could push with both hands as I tried to keep the pee inside.
“Very well,” I heard Agent Delvik say. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
I opened my eyes and raised them, my heart pounding wildly. I saw him pick up the handheld from the table and touch something on the screen, and then I felt a sudden, terrible discomfort between my thighs. The warning I had gotten from the lock now seemed to focus inside my pussy, as if someone had put a red-hot iron bar there. I screamed in agony, and because it seemed like it might lessen the agony, I stood up, though I couldn’t straighten my limbs out because of the sheer intensity of the pain.
Tears gushed from my eyes and down my cheeks as I looked through the bars at the agent, standing calmly there with his finger on the little screen. I hopped from one foot to the other in the vain hope of easing the agony.
“Please… please… sir…” I screamed, clasping my hands together in front of me in a gesture of beseeching. I clutched at my pussy shamelessly, trying to soothe myself.
Agent Delvik lifted his finger, and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started. I let out a cry of relief, and then a soft whimper. Then I noticed to my horror that I had started soaked my panties in pee, and more was still coming out, running down the insides of my legs and splashing onto the metal floor below me. With a little cry of dismay I finally managed to clamp down with the muscles between my thighs and stop the shameful stream of warm wetness.
“Lift your dress, girl,” he said, in that quiet voice that brought more fear than his sterner tone. “I want to see you wet yourself.”
CHAPTER 4
Baron Gravamir
“Which of them do you want in your room this evening, Grav?” asked my friend Hesborin.
I looked at the five concubines who stood with their eyes lowered along the wall of Hesborin’s dining room. Two Kamnian girls and three Breslian girls, both groups immediately identifiable from the color of their hair: the blue of the sky and the green of the forest, reflected in the competing genetic craftsmanship of the Tri-System Mercantile Company and the Vionian Service Corporation on their respective concubine planets.
Hesborin, or more probably his concubine mistress, had dressed the blue-haired girls in lingerie of different shades of green, and the green-haired girls in blue. The lovely young women’s underwear also varied in style, in a way I found enchanting and rather distracting—the Kamnian fuck toy, on the left, wore a see-through nightgown in green the hue of sea foam, with nothing underneath; the Breslian girl, next to her, a breast halter and panties in pale blue lace that showed her tiny nipples and hairless quim nearly as clearly as they would have appeared were she naked.
“A difficult decision, eh?” Hesborin said with a chuckle.
I turned to look at him across the dining table loaded with the remnants of delicacies from every corner of the empire. An almost empty flask of ice-wine from Hlob. The picked-clean bones of exquisitely-spiced erta birds from Ghu. Even gabbor steaks smuggled in deep freeze from inside the boundaries of the Magisterian Federation, the only source for the luscious meat.
Hesborin looked back at me with the insouciant, naughty smile that I had always found irresistible despite the many annoyances my fabulously wealthy best friend had been bringing to my life since our school days—alongside moments of immense luxury like this one. One such annoyance constituted the serious thoughts from which his offer of submissive feminine company in my bed that night had distracted me.
He had offered me an enormous sum, if I would simply agree to put my name and title on the corporation he had just founded, to sell shoddily-made starfighters to the Imperial Army. To be fair to Hes, the fighters lacked good armor and effective cannon through no real fault of his own: the Magisterian blockade bore the true responsibility, though even a high-ranking baron like me could get into deep trouble for even acknowledging the fact that the war had taken a turn against us.
And he had just attempted to distract me from his unwelcome proposition by offering me a different sort of proposition.
“I don’t know why you don’t have a single concubine of your own, Grav,” he said, his mouth quirking up into a smile. “You’re what? Thirty-seven, now? You know I’d sell you one or two of these girls in a flash, and at a discount. I know your finances are rather… tighter than mine, but still. A baron without a concubine to warm his bed? Not the done thing. A man like you should have at least three, and a mistress of concubines to keep them obedient and ready for fucking.”