Princess Of The Insurgents
/ Princess of the insurgents 46 Discovery of a new pleasure.
At the center of the group of about fifteen of these ultrmodern vehicles, to signal her to stop, the only teenage girl in the group, taps again the shoulder of the woman who is driving.
As was the case 15 minutes ago and thirty minutes before that, the woman honks her horn before rushing to park near the numerous burnt-out car bodies lining the old expressway, whose only function to date is to serve as a cemetery for 21st century vehicles, which were abandoned during the first wave of army attacks on the southern states.
With the motorcycle barely stopped, the teenager removes her helmet by jumping off the two-wheeled vehicle. She throws her wig made of real brown hair to the side and rushes behind one of the cars. She doesn't have time to bend over, as all that's left of her stomach content is already spilling over onto the 2 century-old asphalt.
Those things that hover 19 inches off the ground are very convenient. They can fly over any kind of terrain and their speed allows their passengers to cover a lot of Miles in a very short time. However, for the teenage girl with the bluer-than-white face who coughs, they are nothing but creations of the devil.
These motorcycles straight from hell can change direction in less than an instant, change speed instantly and even gain height to avoid potential terrain hazards by flying for a few seconds horizontally, 47 inches above the ground.
The teenager with the big blue eyes without no sign of life, wanders the drool on her lips toward the motorcycle that's responsible for her pathetic condition. Arriving at the height of the annoyed woman, she piteously stretches out her trembling little hand.
"Vitamins, give me the strength to keep going or I'll die of vomiting before I get there."
What a hateful little girl! The chestnut-haired woman who's supposed to be taking care of the walking corpse standing pitifully in front of her, turns her head towards Berny. Receiving the giant's approval, the woman covers her hand with a thin glove, opens her blouse pocket and pulls out a tiny tablet that she places on Jane's wrist.
As the tablet makes contact with the skin of the girl with the decomposed face, Jane feels a new source of life creeping into her. It doesn't take five seconds for her ugly face to return to its original beauty and very satisfied, Jane, smiling broadly, can't help but straighten out her small breasts.
"Princess, can you get back on the motorcycle, please? We should have arrived yesterday morning, but with all our unscheduled stops and your requests to spend the nights in hotels, the journey was much longer than expected."
The woman named Victoria won't say that in order for the Princess to spend pleasant nights in a good bed as she demanded, they had to deviate from their route and thus delay the return to their base. She will conceal the fact that they had just taken delivery of these little tablets for the members of the secret society, whose unit price is $1,150 each.
Considering that this child possesses a monstrous power, that she has crossed the wall of time by an unknown means, and that she is considered by all these brothers and some of her sisters as a half goddess, she will keep this information to herself, however, this does not prevent her from thinking that more than a Princess, this little one is a plague of the first category.
Sleeping in decent hotels, enjoying showers or baths, eating good food and without forgetting the fact that all these Hanumans almost worship her, for Jane who is now 15 years old, it is paradise. However, she can't ignore one thing that spoils this idyllic life: the infernal motorcycle that makes her sick.
Jane could follow the group by flying, however, all things considered, if she is to join the ranks of the Red Bones' successors, suffer with these people who, unlike her, are unable to fly, seems perfectly normal to her.
Nor does she forget that Berny promised her that 30 Hanumans would henceforth focus exclusively looking for clues regarding the location of Sally.
Jane feels that this help will be invaluable to her, so she owes it to them to share their terrible travel conditions.
"Allow me to rest for a few minutes, and only when my body has recovered from all its suffering, can we leave."
This journey to their base is so long, so painful...
puting her little buttocks on the ground, for more comfort Jane, pulls up her red skirt up over her thighs and stretches her body made painful by holding her static position. Nonchalantly she pushes back her long blond hair that cover her right eye, then she breathes a sigh of contentment.
"Would you like me to massage your shoulders, Princess?"
With her legs half bent, her arms behind her against the floor, Jane nods to the man who knows how to make himself useful.
"Thank you, for your kindness. My hips and thighs are also very sore, so, if you don't mind, would you mind massaging them after you've taken care of my shoulders?"
The women grit their teeth as they watch this shameless teenage girl tempting the men in their group.
This same men swallow their saliva as they look at Jane's beautiful thighs, which has pulled up her skirt so high that they can guess a small part of her buttocks.
If all these men can only react in a primal way in front of the beautiful Jane who, although very young, acts in a very equivocal manner, many of them observe with jealousy the lucky one, who places his hands on the thin shoulders of the beautiful girl, whose sexy mouth opens slightly and emits a little squeak of pleasure.
The sun hits hard on Jane's head and this skilful massage, which makes a lot of excitement build up in her, doesn't help to cool down her body.
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On the contrary, soaked in sweat and enjoying this moment more and more, her little nipples stand up under her white tee-shirt. Jane looks on this light fabric soaked in sweat and at the sight of her two breasts exposed freely in the eyes of all, the pleasure that overwhelms her becomes even greater.
With the feeling that the air she's exhaling is getting hotter and hotter, it is with great difficulty that she retains moans of pleasure.
Faced with this unpremeditated incident, Jane, who has no idea what the word means, prudishness, smiles broadly as she sees all the men with sweaty foreheads.
For a second, she considers the possibility, that perhaps, her condition could be contagious. who cares if they do?
With her eyelids closed, Jane gives up herself again to the hands of her masseur, who sometimes, by accident, slips on the tops of her small breasts.
The devoted man's hands goes lower and lower on her chest, but as long as he doesn't exaggerate, Jane won't stop this exceptional masseur whose precise gestures contribute to the discovery of a new pleasure.
"Don't forget my hips and my thighs. Ahh, if you only knew how much I suffer."
Chapter end
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