Sample – Pink Bliss: An Institute Tale

PBcover

The look of shock and repulsion on Barbara’s face gave Ian a small sense of satisfaction as she encountered one of Lady B’s personal servants for the first time. Unlike the students at the Institute, these servants were silent and statuesque, wrapped in colored latex and shaped by tight corsets and boots pointed at the toes. To give them all a uniformity, their faces were covered by matching-colored hoods that hid their faces from the outside world. Ian had seen several of them, but could only differentiate them by the color they wore, so similar were they. This one was purple, opening the door for the trio and ushering them inside with a wave of its hand. Ian assumed they were female by the bounteous latex-covered chests, but such things were undeniably fluid at the Institute.

“Ugh,” she muttered as she passed by the latex drone, Harkins pushing her forward with a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

They were led to their right, where a book-lined study awaited. Lady B was at her desk, typing quickly at her computer, a feat Ian would have doubted if he hadn’t seen it himself. Her nails were always long, always exquisitely manicured, and she seemed to have adjusted to their use in work and play.

She smiled up at them as they filed into the room, standing to reveal her more typical outfit than the relatively conservative ensemble she had prepared for court. She wore a corset that held her breasts up, giving them a globular appearance, the rim of each nipple undoubtedly exposed by the abbreviated top. A pink mini covered her toned ass and the tops of her thighs, but Ian had learned to look twice and, sure enough, he could make out the tip of her penis exposed by the brevity of the skirt.

Harkins shook Lady B’s hand and gave her a winning smile, but Barbara only sat in a nearby chair, three of them arranged in a rough semi-circle before the desk. Ian sat to the far left of Lady B, Harkins between the married couple. Lady B flashed a smile at Ian, who returned it, though his contained more than a hint of apology.

“So,” Harkins began, “I guess we can get this over with. I had my office send the paperwork over. I assume you received it?”

“I did.” Lady B crossed her legs, thigh-high white stockings covering most of them. The glimpse of brown flesh between the brief skirt and stockings made Ian long to touch it, to feel his lips play along the lotioned skin.

“And you have the check prepared?”

“I do not,” she replied, and the pink smile on her face was full of an intimate mirth.

“I don’t understand,” Harkins began, looking to Barbara Klein. “We had an agreement.”

“We did,” Lady B nodded, “but I really wanted all of you here to ask one very simple question.”

“Come on, Lyle, this is a waste of time.” Barbara stood, making for the door, but stopped short when she saw a pair of the latex-dipped dolls standing at the doorway. One was the purple drone from before, the other clad in all black. “Step aside,” she said, but her voice sounded weak in the presence of these strange creatures.

“Sit down, Babs,” Lady B said, sternly, but not without humor. She rose from behind the desk and moved to the front of it, flashing that predatory smile at Barbara, who flinched as if she had been struck.

Barbara looked back at the latex dolls and shuffled back to her seat, holding onto the arms of the chair as if she expected to be catapulted into some other new and world-shattering revelation.

“Look, we came on good faith,” Harkins said, ramping up to another speech, but the sly look on Lady B’s face stopped him.

“I hope she thanked you,” Lady B grinned, then waved her hand in the air dismissively. “You came here because you are greedy. I want to ask you, Babs, did the money Ian paid me for my services cripple you financially? I know for a fact that sweet little Ian was doing just fine. I don’t take more than my customers can afford. I even discounted Ian’s sessions towards the end because I like him. He has real potential.”

Ian met Lady B’s pink-tinted eyes and felt a soft warmth ripple through him.

“Answer the question,” she said, eyes still on Ian.

“That’s not the point.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then. So, if it isn’t the money, not really, what is it? I suspect you saw that Ian was growing away from you, becoming stronger, something you couldn’t control. Am I right?”

“Lyle, do something.” Barbara’s face was flushed red, her eyes darting between Lady B and her attorney.

“In fact, I think the thing you hate most of all, Babs, is that Ian was actually enjoying himself.”

“Stop calling me that! My name is Barbara!”

Lady B looked flatly at the woman across from her and her lips curled up into something approximating dark glee.

“Not for long, it isn’t.”

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