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Seraphima Too
(by Eve Adorer)
Chapter 4 – Rule
With the filmmaking over, and Teasetta having flown home to England and her busy life as wife for John, professor of law at Camford University, and as a Girl-Court judge, Seraphima knew she had to relax into the sole role of loving wife for Marina.
For her part, Marina had sensed the danger. She had heard how passionately Teasetta had courted Seraphima with the bullwhip. But she knew that Seraphima’s resulting orgasms were no betrayal: only the inevitable physical reaction of such an all-girl girl. It had been rape, not mutuality.
That Seraphima had not run off into the sunset with Teasetta, pleased Marina of course. But the smile of love that Marina was, knew that Seraphima felt regret at her loss, and that her lovely wife needed more occupation than merely decorating their home’s swimming pool all day long.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
……………….
Seraphima sat in the luxury of the business-class compartment of the bullet-train speeding her to the meeting Marina had entrusted her to attend.
It was good to be working. The only work she had done since she had married Marina had been the movie. Her previous ‘employment’ had been as Marina’s slave, some four years back now. It was also good therefore, to be working on something she wanted to do, rather than slaving, or being abused and exploited as the film company had done with her.
A glance across from where Seraphima sat on the train, showed four girls sat either side a table: four lovely white girls. The prettiest was a petite sweetie with a gorgeous sparkling-eyed smile. Her straight blonde hair was cropped short and stood stook straight upright, rippling as she moved, as if wind-blown corn.
Seraphima exchanged one look, and thereafter the girl seemed smitten. She talked sweetly, but a little too animatedly, and pretended not to be looking to see if Seraphima was still looking at her, though in fact she was obviously using her peripheral vision.
Seraphima smiled at the little honey’s loveliness, and the girl’s grey eyes sparkling, and her lips that shone moist with softness.
A station stop. A three-girl departure. A still vacant seat next to Seraphima, and a sweet voice saying: “May I take this seat?”, the voice of a grey-eyed blonde of no more than twenty-one, who had had a seat of her own not moments ago.
As she bent forward to ask about the seat she already knew was free for her to take, her vee-neck revealed what pretty little breasts she had: no more than mere undulations. She would never ever have needed a brassiere, save for show.
And spotting that Seraphima could not help but look down her sweater, and was adoring her hermaphroditic contradictoriness: her boyish near flatness and her very girlish waist and rear, she leaned a little more forward, and lingered longer, unnecessarily.
Was she five-three? Her legs were not long, but, as she stood en-pointe in her ballet-shoes, lovely in their careering caressable contours.
As the sweet creature sat next her, and her skirt rose to show well-rounded black stocking-blessed thighs, Seraphima could not help but take her eyes on a tour of exploration.
“Hi”, the girl with eyes that glowed with her adorableness, whispered.
“Are you on a business trip? I saw your suitcase and briefcase, and I said to myself ‘business-girl!’. I am right aren’t I?” she asked, with a jokey tone that said ‘I do so hope you’ll talk to me, I think you’re so lovely’.
“I’m off up to Enabe. It’s more a conference than a meeting. A couple of days of workshops and syndicates, with the lectures in the same hotel as the attendees are all staying in: then back to Ntobi”, Seraphima found herself answering.
“Not ‘Business Efficiency and the Menstrual Cycle’?”, the girl asked, with joy in her tone.
“Why, yes as it happens….” Seraphima answered.
“Kate…. Kate Godsgift?”, the girl now smiled, as she put out the prettiest of pretty hands for Seraphima to shake.
“Nice to meet you Kate. Are you at the same conference?”, Seraphima enquired.
“I hope so”, Kate answered with a mischievous giggle, “I’m the tutor!” She then laughed with her eyes sparkling love-lightening: and the world grew suddenly sunnier.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
“Yes, they’re Seraphima’s”
……………….
Later that morning after she had settled into the hotel and had a quick refreshing shower, Seraphima sat among strangers, her fellow attendees, as…
“We should not overindulge in generalisations….”.
Kate kissed the air with her ever-moist lips and ready shy smile as she fronted the lecture room, a hotel lounge, pacing on her pretty legs as she added orally to the computer slide display for her first lecture that first day.
Seraphima watched her legs and admired the soft red leather ballet-shoes in which Kate now paraded pointy-toed pirouette tiptop tiptoed.
“We should not overindulge in generalisations, but numerous surveys have shown the assets we girls share, include the advantage over the male of the species, of our greater communication skills….”.
Kate now wore a light-blue latex miniskirt that clung to her divine derriere with ne’er a line to define that she was, under it, anything but perfectly naked.
Atop a bare belly belying a belly-dancer as a chancer for claiming to have a midriff to whistle wolf for, she wore the same shade of blue, in a latex tank-top her tiny titties hardly troubled to bulge out, but which showed she had pert alert nipples.
“……….monthly fall-off in productive capacity, not in fact proven….”
Kate continued, the rubber suspenders holding up her condom-fine, close-clinging latex stockings, straining as her firm petite buttocks rose and fell when she paced the lecture room.
“……coincidence of the female cycle in structured environments a positive….”.
Kate smiled, and her grey eyes glowed with warmth so lovingly lovely that Seraphima knew that she, Seraphima, was in meltdown.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
“Yes, they’re Seraphima’s”
“When will yer missus be ‘ome?”
……………….
“Thank you for your attention. I hope at least some of you were listening to the lecture and not just looking at me….”
Kate giggled, and then blushed at her self-conscious joke and admission that she knew that, because she was so devastatingly pretty, she was being ogled by every girl in the room.
“You will be relieved to hear that we have a short coffee break now, and then I have a syndicate exercise for you all…. Now don’t groan!”, she teased and smiled.
Kate smiled anew as she walked straight over to the Nubian angel at the break: “How’s your room Seraphima? The old ‘Titular Hotel’ is just a tad old fashioned, but they have always made us very welcome”.
Seraphima caught the sunlight sparkling on the soft blonde hairs on Kate’s slim forearms, and was completely disarmed.
But, before Seraphima could answer, Kate turned to respond to another attendee.
“Excuse me butting in Kate, but whilst your opening lecture was fine, if a little pro-Freudian in its otherwise perspicacious summation of the post-suffragette stratagem and dilemma, what about the Marxian dialectic? When we discuss the feminine experience, shouldn’t the Marxian ‘thesis, antithesis, synthesis’ analytical triumvirate enter the fray, stage-left, at the start of the day?”, Seraphima heard the other attendee expound, with blue-stockings in evident display, and obviously not only on her long legs, which had probably never yet been splayed.
A quick glance at and from Kate showed that the petite posy wanted still to talk to Seraphima. And a second look from Kate at Seraphima, found Seraphima aghast at the obscure query, and made Kate have to fight to hold back a peel of appealing giggles, at the sight of the astonishment on Seraphima’s face.
As she returned to front-up the lecture once more, Kate avoided Seraphima’s eyes, knowing that she had made her point with the Nubian negress, and that it was now for Seraphima to make the next play.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
“Yes, they’re Seraphima’s”
“When will yer missus be ‘ome?”
“She’s only just left for Enabe….. She’s on a residential course I decided I did not want to go to….in an hotel there…”
……………….
“Kate!”, Seraphima called, as lecturer and lectured went to lunch. And the lovely blonde angel turned with her smiling eyes, and Seraphima’s longings now definitely belonged to love.
“Are you in… Do you have room ‘69’? You see I… I noticed you left your key at the back of the lecture room, so I’ve tucked it in my stocking top for safekeeping….”
Kate blushed. “Thank you Seraphima. That’s perfectly fine”, she smiled, and then blushed again, obviously registering that her heavenly loveliness had scored a palpable hit with the stunning negress.
……………….
At lunch, Kate showed she knew that, to continue to reel Seraphima in for real, she really no longer had to be other than her sweet self.
As the two girls sat opposite each other, she just talked and giggled naturally, although her face, her eyes in particular, showed that she was just loving having her delightful prettiness admired.
Of course Kate had seen the wedding ring. But Kate was a ‘modern girl’ and saw such trinkets as no fence or defence against the natural fulfilment of love’s longings.
For her part, Seraphima had clearly been changed by her whip-rape.
During the brutal experience itself, her old self, the married girl who would never ever break her vow, had still asserted itself, and she had resisted Teasetta, despite her agony.
It had been in the weeks since that, subconsciously initially, change had begun.
Despite her old self, Seraphima had been taken by the whip.
Okay, it was hindsight, but she should have interposed a leg to deflect the stroke that had invaded her. The fact that she did not know that particular stroke was aimed at taking her, was no excuse. She should, she told herself, have kept her legs together at all times to protect her wifely virtue.
This initial conclusion, and her consequent guilt, had quite depressed Seraphima for some time after the whip-rape.
Marina, lovely Marina, had soon realised the guilt Seraphima was feeling for having orgasmed under the lash, and kept reassuring her wife that she understood, and that there was no cause for such feelings: and even that she, Marina, would have done the same if Teasetta had been bullwhipping her.
But Seraphima knew that nobody whom had not themselves been whip-raped, could possibly understand. Her guilt was not only from the knowledge that she had surrendered; but also from the need to have the incredibly intense experience over again.
This latter was never fully admitted by Seraphima’s conscious mind. When it did briefly surface though, she told herself too, as was undoubtedly true, that the intensity could not be the same as the first time; because the first time was the only time in which she would ever not know that it was coming.
Dissatisfaction with Marina in bed was something the whip-rape had also almost immediately fed.
Seraphima’s eyes had began to roam. She began to realise that there was a whole panorama of girls in the world, and not just the girl she was wed to at home.
Marina and Seraphima knew each other too well for the bedroom experience now to be anything other than routine.
Though they still shared the same bed, the intervals between their lovemaking had been growing longer. Seraphima had hoped that this would heighten the experience by renewing it, but had been disappointed on that score.
Marina, for her part, had assumed Seraphima’s apparently lowered desire was the outcome of the whipping, and had been sweet enough to sacrifice her own needs to the wish she assumed Seraphima had, to ‘re-virginalise’ her body as it were.
Without either girl realising it, or at least without either admitting it to herself, let alone the other, their physical love had become stale, staid, and was withering on the vine.
………………
“Stop looking at me!”, Kate shyly commanded, as she found herself blushing under the constant adoring gaze of Seraphima’s dark-brown eyes, with the lovely negress transfixed by her smile and her moist lips.
As she lowered her adoring gaze, and fought not to look at pretty Kate, Seraphima, smiled anew.
Then, mini-moments later, Kate tapped Seraphima’s hand and commanded: “Look at me!”, and Seraphima smiled again at Kate’s charmingly contradictory femininity.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
“Yes, they’re Seraphima’s”
“When will yer missus be ‘ome?”
“She’s only just left for Enabe….. She’s on a residential course I decided I did not want to go to….in an hotel there…”
“An’ where more hegsactly would dat be at madam?”
……………….
Seraphima apologised as she left the lecture room. The display on her mobile told her the call was from Marina. Seraphima feared something dreadful had happened. There was no real justification for such concern, save that her wife would surely not phone when she would have known Seraphima would most likely be in a lecture, unless there was some kind of problem.
“Girl-Police…. Dressing gown came home in after the whipping…. Feel so dreadful….. Betrayal darling….. God forgive me but you know what they are like….. I had to tell….. They must be on their way…. Please forgive me my love…. Please!!” Marina babbled.
Seraphima swallowed hard. She had quite forgotten the dressing gown.
“You have done nothing of the sort darling. ‘Betrayal’ is a dreadful word, and one I will never ever associate with you. If they are on their way, they are on their way. Please don’t worry yourself so about it. I had some dealings with the Girl-Police when I lived in England, and I found them perfectly willing to listen. I’ll explain everything. I’m certain sure there will be no problem….” Seraphima responded, with a calmness she certainly did not feel.
“Darling…. Please run away somewhere: anywhere! ….”, Marina sobbed.
“I’ll be home tomorrow. You are even beginning to worry me now. Ask Camilleona to warm some of her milk for you. Talk to her, and, above all sweetheart, don’t worry so. I love you. Everything will be all right. I’ve got to go. I love you. Kisses. Bye! …”
As she pressed the button to end the call, Seraphima felt an acidic river run through her tummy. There was no point in trying to run. ‘Some of the Girl-Police could be very nice women’, she heard her imagination saying, but not believing.
A deep breath raised her lovely bosom proudly high.
Seraphima placed her mobile back behind the garter on her left thigh. Her hands were shaking: her tongue dry. But she knew she would just have to wait and see what would happen. Running would only make matters worse; that was for sure.
Another deep breath, and Seraphima wiggled back into the lecture, signalling with waved fingers and a silent mouthed “Sorry” to Kate for the interruption, as she, Seraphima, sat herself down once more.
……………….
Hours later and Seraphima’s worries were well in the background. What on earth had Marina been on about? Talk about unnecessary panic. If the Girl-Police had really been on their way, then they must have taken the longest route imaginable, or else completely lost their bearings. Seraphima would have to talk girl-to-girl with Marina about this when she got home!
……………….
Lectures over, and another phone call, this time from Seraphima to Marina, had assured and reassured Marina that all was well, and that she, Marina, was worrying about nothing.
Dinner followed and love grew and showed, as Kate and Seraphima glowed.
……………….
As they rose from their barstools, after the other pupils had long since dispersed to the bedrooms following the end of the first day of the course, Kate smiled.
Love was in the air. The two girls had chatted endlessly and increasingly intensely. Seraphima, as she was wont, had avoided overmuch detail about her cloistered upbringing, and subsequent experiences at the hands of the English Girl-Courts.
Kate had told of her wealthy mother, her brilliant sisters, and her own rise through education, with a doctorate from Vale in the USA at age fifteen, and all the opportunities that had brought. The opportunities that the acutely astute Seraphima had never had an chance to pursue.
Along the way, it transpired that Kate was originally from Camford, the university town near Spindon: Spindon being where Seraphima originally hailed from. Kate was now a professor of women’s affairs at Ntobi University, and was clearly in love with life in Senabre.
The other pupils gathered around each other, and left the petite pretty lecturer to be monopolised by the lovely negress. The two were so obviously wrapped in each other, that nobody wanted to disturb them and, after a while, nobody continued to observe them.
As they rose from their barstools, after the other pupils had long since dispersed to the bedrooms following the end of the first day of the course, Kate smiled.
“Have you still got my room key safe Seraphima: because I want you to meet Mandy?”
At the querulous crestfallen look that immediately befell Seraphima’s lovely face, Kate raised her pretty hand to her ever-moist lips and giggled, with her grey eyes flashing diamond sparkles.
“Mandy is my girlfriend”, she teased, with a hint of naughty taunt, and a ‘didn’t you realise I was already spoken for’ intonation to her voice, as she continued to giggle.
Seraphima’s look still showed the surprise she thought she had succeeded in hiding, and made Kate laugh gently, but all the more intensely.
A while later, as the girls held hands in the upstairs corridor, Kate playfully recited the bedroom door numbers: “…. 63…. 65…. 67….”
“Oh dear. 67 is your room isn’t it Seraphima? Mmm I’m sure it is! So soon!! Oh well. Oh well ….. goodnight then…..”, Kate whisper-teased in a resigned tone, pretending the evening was over and Seraphima to go to her own room alone.
But Kate had such loving laughter in her eyes that Seraphima just knew that new giggles were on their lovely way. And, anyway, Kate never let go Seraphima’s hand during this tease.
And now she grasped both Seraphima’s hands and walked backwards, pulling as if she had to haul Seraphima along from Seraphima’s reluctance, which made Seraphima laugh too.
“And….. here we are, 69”, Kate’s eyes continued to shine with fun, with her voice tickled by the bare suppression of her lovely laughter.
When they had reached the doorway of room 69, Kate turned her back to the door, and tried to fill its frame with her petite five-foot-three. She then held her right hand out, palm upward, fingers prettily bending surprisingly far down toward the ground, to signal that she wished Seraphima to give her the key.
“Oooh it’s still warm” Kate pouted teasingly, as Seraphima placed the key, Kate had clearly enjoyed watching her take from the top of her right stocking, onto Kate’s sweet palm.
“Shh!” said Kate, with a clear hint of yet more giggles, as she turned the key in the door and pushed it open: “We mustn’t wake Mandy”, she whispered in a silly serious tone.
Once inside, with the room’s lights on, Seraphima had no time to look further than Kate’s adorably pretty face, as the young girl suddenly moved her head sideways, and took her sweet soft moist lips in a Cupid’s flight over Seraphima’s ‘O’ for orgasm closed mouth, without touchdown.
“We mustn’t kwiss”, Kate then said suddenly, as if startled, with her grey eyes intensely wide with cod seriousness, mixed with suppressed laughter: “Mandy would be swo jwealous!”, she pouted.
“Close your eyes Seraphima”, Kate giggled anew, as she then took Seraphima by her right hand, holding that right hand in both her lovely hands, and led Seraphima, with Kate on dramatically slow leggy tiptoe, to the bed.
“Shh!” Kate whispered as she let go Seraphima’s hand, and raised her dainty forefinger to her shiny lips.
Seraphima, eyes open, openly helplessly dazzled by this sexy girl, was in a daze ablaze.
And then, Kate leaned over the bed and whispered to a ragged old teddybear tucked under the duvet, with its stubby arms tucked under too, so that only its face, with its nose ears and ever-open eyes stared up.
“Mandy, I want you to meet Seraphima; she’s weally wuvly!” Kate whispered in her teddybear toy’s left ear. And Seraphima fell instantly fully head over heels in love with Kate.
“Say hello to Mandy, Seraphima!” Kate then commanded with a sexy seriousness, belied by the lovely sparkle in her eyes.
Seraphima moved in front of Kate, bent over and kissed the teddybear on its nose.
“Oooh. Mandy weally wuved that”, Kate affirmed, with a little-girl pout.
Kate then stage whispered in the teddybear’s ear: “You got the first kwiss from Seraphima. I’m weally jwealous Mandy! But I still wuv you!” and she kissed the teddybear’s nose in turn.
……………….
“Let me pay for the dressing gown then.”
“’Fraid it’s not that easy madam. Theft is theft yer know. Do these ‘ere rubber close belong to yer missus?”
“Yes, they’re Seraphima’s”
“When will yer missus be ‘ome?”
“She’s only just left for Enabe….. She’s on a residential course I decided I did not want to go to….in an hotel there…”
“An’ where more hegsactly would dat be at madam?”
“The Titular Hotel”, Marina confirmed, with tears running down her face, both from her fear of the Girl-Police, and from her consequent betrayal.
……………….
As she rose from kissing the teddybear, Kate fell into Seraphima’s arms, and again reached up on top of very top tiptoe to fly her sensuously moist lips over and over and over Seraphima’s longing mouth, without touching.
Seraphima understood the message, and played along, as Kate brushed her pretty face over and over, and across Seraphima’s, teasingly, pleasingly, hauntingly, tauntingly, dreamily-erotically, trying to see how close the two girls could get their lips without them actually kissing: torturing them both: making them both await the first kiss they longed for.
Then Kate stopped her torment; darted out the tip of her tongue to touch on Seraphima’s top lip, and sweetly whispered: “That’s all!” and turned away, with a giggle.
But that was not going to be all, and Seraphima took the petite angel in her arms and kissed her beautiful mouth with a gentle intensity; that Kate swiftly outmatched, and they lingered thus for an endless age, till…
“Let’s move away from Mandy shall we. We don’t want to make her jealous…”, Kate whispered, her eyes now dream-filled and shy, as she took Seraphima’s hand, and led her from the bed to a couch, where the two angels continued to kiss, and to explore the explosive eroticism, of foreplay that was no ‘fore’ to anything other than itself, as they simply kissed, and broke away, and kissed once more.
And Seraphima’s hand held the angel’s neck and caressed her back only so as to keep Kate’s lips on hers. And then she kissed Kate’s neck and Kate gasped with the pleasure. And Kate gave award for the pleasure, measure for measure, by kissing Seraphima’s mouth with a gentle intensity, that showed that both girls now knew how the other wanted to be kissed, and that both were willing and wanting of kissing to please.
And Kate eased her top’s strap off her shoulder to bare her neck more, and Seraphima kissed her neck once more. And the moist mouth of the little blonde tease knew how to please as it budded, then pouted, and then blossomed its lips on, and within Seraphima’s: then stopped.
The kiss stopped with both girls fixed with their lips on each other’s, as if in a game of dare, to see which cared the more so as to be the one to begin the kissing again.
But the game’s rules were disobeyed as Seraphima broke away and kissed Kate’s neck yet again, and Kate’s fire was rekindled and her mouth flew moist to Seraphima’s, and her little cry betrayed that the eroticism of the compassionate conflagration, had moistened other lips of hers. And she kissed now with her soul. And time stood eternal. And the minutes flew to hours. And the hours flew too quickly; and yet not at all, as the girls kissed; and then kissed; and then kissed; and then kissed; and then kissed; and then kissed anew…
….And a master-key turned in the bedroom door, and the Girl-Police bungled in….
……………….
“Sorry to barge in like dis”, a shapely blonde with a sergeant’s stripes on her well endowed, literally double-breasted tunic, conveyed, with practiced insincerity.
“I’m Sergeant Pat Butt. ’Ope me and Constable Cretina Critic ‘ere isn’t interrupting nuffink”, she sarcasmed.
“Night Porter said as ‘ow she’d seen you two ‘oldin ‘ands to the elevator. Knew you’d be in 67 or 69. Good of you to leave the light on soas we’d know which….”.
Seraphima became aware of Kate’s fear-fuelled trembling, and put a reassuring arm around the angel.
“We’ll take a seat on the edge of the bed ‘ere if yer don’t mind. Do carry on what you was doin’ if yer want to”, the sergeant mocked.
“No? Oh! Oh well. Na den: you’d be Seraphima Ntebeli, if I isn’t mistaken”, the sergeant continued, looking at her brunette companion, and nodding for her to open her notebook, just after she had looked Seraphima in her lovely face.
“Course it’s none of my business what was a goin’ on just ‘ere, afore now. But I suppose you being called … let’s see na …. yea ….. MRS Ntebeli, means you is married, MRS Ntebeli. Would dat be about right?” the sergeant enquired with indifference to deference in her monotone.
“Yes. Yes of course” Seraphima answered.
“We was talkin’ to your wife earlier… a Mrs Marina Ntebeli? Your good lady said as ‘ow we’d find you at dis ‘otel.”
“’As she bin in touch, to tell you we was coming like?”
“No”, Seraphima lied.
“Just as well dat. We told ‘er not to, if she knew what was good for ‘er like”, the sergeant mused.
“Like I were saying, your good lady said as ‘ow we’d find you at dis ‘otel. Don’t ‘spose she’d ‘ave known whose room you’d be in doe”, the sarcastic sergeant speculated in order, as she intended, to gain.
“But we is very discretion in the Girl-Police Mrs Ntebeli. Very discretion indeed: if you sees where I is getting to”, she continued.
“We ‘ave a few questions for you Mrs Ntebeli. So, let us say dat, if you gives us de answers what we is lookin’ for, we won’t say nuffink nowhere to nobody abart you and dat pretty little tart you got yer arm around just now: eh?”
Without waiting for an answer, the sergeant continued: “Your good lady, Mrs Marina, ses you brought ‘ome this ‘ere white robe, the dressing gown what Constable Critic ‘ere is a showin’ you”, she averred.
“Yes”, Seraphima answered, “I’d had a part in a movie: a western. I put it on after I had been whipped for real. I was bleeding and could not bear to wear anything tighter… I needed to get home. I must have left my own clothes behind. I was in a lot of pain. My mind was in turmoil. I had just been whip-raped….”
Without being able to, or daring to turn and see, Seraphima felt the look of total astonishment, followed by pained tender loving sympathy, on Kate’s face.
“Was you in the changin’ room: de changin’ caravan, what was also bein’ used by the actress what was playin’ a character called ‘Sexy Red’ – woman by the name of Teasetta Loveschild?” the sergeant continued.
“Yes. Yes I shared Teasetta’s caravan, we were on location, though not far from my home as it happens…..” Seraphima responded.
“So. So den, dis ‘ere dressing gown what we found in the laundry from your ‘ome, in the ‘ands of your ‘orny little maid, Camilleona, when she was a washin’ it down by der river trying to get the blood out of it, was taken by you from Mrs Teasetta Loveschild. Would dat be about right?”
Seraphima was all too aware she was about to incriminate herself, but boldly bravely answered simply: “Yes”.
“Got the notes on all that constable?”
“Yea sarge” the constable replied.
“Read ‘em out den Constable Critic. Read ‘em out, and try and get past de first page of what ‘as been writ down will yer, just for a change like!” Sergeant Pat Butt teased, elephantinely inelegantly.
Constable Cretina Critic was clearly not the sharpest knife in the draw. She obviously had difficulty in reading, let alone enjoying, anything that was not boringly straightforward and tediously predicable. Indeed, when it came to reading them back, even her own comments were somehow apparently seen, to her self-righteous dullard’s mind, as pseudo-clever nonsense.
“Sign the constable’s notebook and, if your little lady will witness your signature like, we can leave you be, for the time bein’ luv”, the sergeant confirmed, as Seraphima duly signed, as she dare not do otherwise, and Kate nervously countersigned as witness.
“Don’t fink you’ve ‘eard the last of dis darlin’. There’s bound to be a court case”, the sergeant confirmed, to Seraphima’s slightly relieved astonishment. Astonishment based on the reasoned assumption she was surely about to be arrested for theft on the spot: relief that it had not happened.
The sarcastic English sergeant, an individual relic of the old colonial days for Senabre: the days before it had left the British Empire and changed its name from British Senaban: the sarcastic English sergeant looked around the room, and ogled pretty Kate, who lowered her eyes in terror.
“You oughta get yerself a girl wiv some tits on luv”, she sneered to Seraphima, nodding toward, to indicate she was talking about Kate.
“Your little tart ‘ere ain’t got none as I can see. Maybe she was last in line when the tits was bein’ ‘anded out eh? They musta run outta titties afore she got ter the front of the queue, cos there’s none on the front of ‘er, that’s for sure, eh!?!” the sergeant cruelly mocked, to her and her constable’s evident and sole amusement.
“One more fing”, the sergeant began, with her tongue in her cheek, literally, momentarily, as she gave a ‘listen to this one’ look at her companion constable….
“One more fing”, the sergeant continued, “Is it true that you ‘ad a cum when you was bein’ whipped?”
“Yes”, Seraphima confessed, as she hung her head in shame.
“Really big ‘un: a multi-one, is what I ‘eard”, the sergeant confirmed, “In fact I ‘eard you was gaggin for it: beggin for more….”
“No need to answer that’n luv. It wasn’t no question…”, she then sneared.
The Girl-Police now left, but as the bedroom door had nearly closed, it opened again, and the sergeant put her head around it to say:
“Do carry on what you was a doin’ of, won’t yer!”
And just after the door finally closed, Seraphima heard the mocking laughter recede, as the Girl-Police re-entered the elevator to leave the hotel.
……………….
Shame filled, Seraphima knew she had failed Kate. She had let the exquisite girl be mocked, and herself denigrated in turn, and done about it that which all women who faced the Girl-Police, were able to do: that is: precisely nothing.
“I am so sorry about that, my love”, Seraphima whispered.
“It was not your fault Seraphima”, Kate answered, with a new distance evident, despite her smile.
Seraphima turned to leave, and go to her own room.
She then turned again and whispered: “Kiss Mandy goodnight for me won’t you Kate…”
“Of course I will….”, Kate answered, with sweet tears welling in her gorgeous grey eyes.
……………….
Five minutes later, as Seraphima finished her third phone chat with Marina, this one to tell her the Girl-Police had just been, and that nothing had happened; there came a knock at her door.
Terrified that the Girl-Police had come to make the arrest she feared must happen at any time soon; but equally too frightened of the Girl-Police not to open the door, Seraphima emotioned over and turned the key.
As she eased the door ajar to see who was there, a whispered voice asked: “Can Mandy and I come in?”
Seraphima opened the door a little wider, and, hugging Mandy in her arms, a stark naked Kate walked confidently across her carpet, and slid herself under the duvet on Seraphima’s bed.
Tears came to Seraphima’s eyes as she watched, transfixed, the exquisite angel traipse across the room, and saw a flash of Kate’s little breasts and her innocently-hairless, very-tight-lipped slit.
“Mandy says she thinks I’m in love with you”, Kate explained with a gentle smile. Then she cuddled her teddybear in her lovely arms, turned on her side, and fell instantly into sweet sleep.
[to be continued]
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