Princess of the insurgents 7 Awakening of a Hanuman +18

After the unfortunate but unintentional incident at the centre of which was Jane, three of the domestic workers had to be taken to the hospital. For safety, for the next three days Jane, voluntarily isolated herself in her room.

On the morning of the fourth day, it's a peaceful Jane, sitting with cross-legged on her bed who concentrates on trying to understand the laws of the matter.

Around her float various objects, such as her mascara, lipstick, several tubes of paint or her recorder.

Suspended in the air, these everyday objects describe various curves and flutter at different speeds.

In pairs, the solid objects move closer together and then join together to form a single object. Sometimes, they simply mix very briefly before separating, then continue on their way and repeat the same pattern again and again, before forming pairs with other objects.

The morning dance of the objects, of which there are 16, has been going on since last night. Getting to this result was relatively quick for Jane, who, following the accident, came out of it transformed.

Her ability to use telekinesis, which she knows she can still develop to a large extent, is part of the changes that have taken place within her. However, this suddenly acquired power is only the visible face of her drastic change.

On the morning of her first day of isolation, Jane placed her hands over her ears as voices from all directions assaulted her. Soon, as she was rolling in pain on her bed, she noticed that this protection proved to be totally ineffective against this sound aggression.

To silence the voices, she placed her pillow over her head, locked herself in her dressing room, and then used her personal assistant to play her playlist at maximum volume. Once again, it proved to be useless.

Despite the music vibrating through the glass walls of her bedroom, the vast majority of his foreign voices were still resonating violently in her head. It was precisely at the moment when she realized that the voices were not coming through her ears so that their sound could be diffused in her, that a doubt came over her.

Among those people whom she heard more or less clearly despite the mixture of their words, in addition to a few domestic servants, she recognized the deep and characteristic voice of a man who lives in a house on her street. Jane also managed to extract from this hubbub the soft voice of the woman who runs the grocery store three blocks away.

Before the drama she herself caused in the kitchen, Jane would probably have thought that the foul news had disturbed her to the point of hallucination or that she was falling into madness, but after identifying these two voices, the present-day Jane calmed down.

Less fearful and less impressionable than the Jane of the previous day, she sat down on her bed, closed her eyes, and then did her best to free her mind from the tensions that the multitude of voices were causing.

This improvised meditation lasted for more than two hours before a significant improvement encouraged Jane to open her eyes.

At that moment, the voices were still present, but their reduced volume caused her less mental stress. As noticeable as this improvement was, Jane could only wince when, after a few minutes, a crippling headache took hold of her. Yes, it was better, but not enough to live in peace.

Jane resumed her mediation to try to focus her mind on one voice. Hoping to drive others away, she tried to tune her mind in the direction that the woman's gentle voice came from.

Gradually the woman's words became clearer and more numerous. They no longer resonated in her mind, but her words didn't really make sense.

"Tonight is pasta or pizza?" - "Um, I still have to pick up my silk shirt from the dry cleaners." - "I wonder if this man is still single?"

All those questions and comments were directed at no one but the woman herself. The conclusion couldn't have been more obvious and left Jane a little stunned. These voices had never been voices. They were in fact the most intimate thoughts of all the people in the neighborhood.

Knowing who is whose lover is of no particular interest to Jane. So she did her best to regain absolute silence. It was a resounding failure.

If for the moment she could not obtain silence, Jane concluded that the best thing to do was to tame this ability in order to control it.

In order to train her concentration, she tried to move from voice-to-voice as quickly as possible. This exercise proved fruitful, but extremely exhausting. Drained of all her strength, Jane collapsed on her sheets and fell asleep around 4:00pm.

When at 06:00am, her alarm clock went off on Saturday, February 8th, Jane got up immediately. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel the desire to sleep 5 minutes more or to curse this instrument of torture that has always punctuated her daily life.

The first thing she noticed as she put her feet on the ground was the meal tray in front of her door. It is likely that from now on the maids are too afraid to approach her to wake her up.
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Undisturbed by this new behaviour of the household staff, which Jane understands, she immediately went to the bathroom without tasting the contents of the plate covered with a silver bell.

Her gaze, harder than in the past, turned to the mirror. She detailed her little face with great attention. The discomfort she felt a few days ago did not show itself when she caressed her sensual lips and plunged her right hand under her very short red skirt.

Her present position didn't suit her very much. For more comfort, she jumped with disconcerting ease onto the marble cabinet next to the basin. For more pleasure, she sat facing the mirror and lifted her skirt as she spread her thighs.

Jane, who settled in this way could appreciate the beauty of her still immature body and sketched a lovely smile as she looked at her right index finger beginning to caress her already hardened clitoris.

She so enjoyed the sight of her body in need of a caress, that in front of her large eyes filled with lust, she guided her right hand towards her small breasts.

Instinctively, she allowed her thighs to move further apart, while her hand grasped her small left breast. As her wet finger plunged her into the most primal pleasure, she had fun testing various things.

She bent over as she pinched her pretty pink nipples and howled with pleasure as she dipped two of her fingers into her intimacy overflowing with nectar.

Lost in this adult game, to the sound of charming little screams coming from her bathroom, Jane experienced for the first time an orgasm so intense that she was forced to lie down for long minutes on that piece of furniture, which her actions had made moist but hot.

Chapter end