The Princess’s Court
Part 5 of 5
(FM/FF nc)
This couldn’t be happening! Princess Katherine looked wildly around
from the faces of her guards to the faces of the aristocrats in the
Galleries. They, by the looks of shock she saw, couldn’t believe it was
happening either. Lance Corporal Roland took her by the wrist and
pulled her from her throne. Then he brought her around, and she found
herself face to face with her reflection on the polished floor.
She was over his knee.
She was a Princess, arrayed in her finest dress, before the whole
Court. . . the Court she would have to face every day for the rest of
her life, and she was over his knee! And she had been very bad. No, she
told herself. I must fight! I. . . I can’t confess. . . not after what
I’ve done! She struggled, and he captured her hand. In one motion her
dress was raised, exposing the white curve of her panties.
"It has clearly been a long time since you’ve had a spanking, Your
Highness. I think I’ll allow you your panties." She felt his fingers
caress the thin silk strip that covered her bulging sex. He stroked the
dark furrow between her nether lips, and she flushed knowing that he
found her hot and wet.
POW!
Ugh! Mercy! That stung. . . it hurt!
POW!
"This will stop," he said calmly, "When you confess and give proof.
It’s up to you how long it lasts."
He began to spank with a rhythm. She was as unused to punishment as
any of the Ladies, but unlike some, she had witnessed dozens and she
knew how ridiculous it looked to squirm over your punisher’s lap. She
felt horrible shocks of humiliation rip through her, and it was even
worse than the pain. He stripped her of self control and dignity, one
spank at a time, knowing that the time of tears and confessions would
inevitably come. And so he was in no hurry.
Oh Mercy! Oh, that hurt! She mustn’t make a noise! Can’t cry! Oh,
all the people! The sounds echoed sharply in the hall and sounded like
fire works! When she did squeal, she realized how quiet the room was,
except for her and him.
POW! POW! POW!
The situation under her panties was getting unbearable. She tried to
remind herself of what would happen if she confessed, but it didn’t seem
to matter. Her struggles were becoming more frantic now, and little by
little, noises were escaping from her. This was horrible! She looked
back, trying to determine if his intention, and he smiled back at her,
not at all impatient.
"Owww!" She shrieked, and struggled without any care for how she
looked. The spanking had to stop now! She couldn’t bear another second
of it! "Stop! I order you! Oh! OH! Please!"
He chuckled. "I think you know how to stop this."
Over his knee she was helpless. He had her buttocks at a perfect
height and position. He punished them carefully, and methodically. He
was, she realized, with something like terror, doing what she had done
so many times. He was taking her through the stages of a spanking,
letting her suffer each one along the way before moving forward. She
had been in the reversed position many times, and had enjoyed the
hopeless resistance the supplicant presented. Through her mind flashed
all of the pridefull girls she had broken over her lap, and she began to
weep.
"Please! Not in public! Please!"
"Yes, Princess. In public, before everyone. And with full knowledge
that when you do, it will be even worse. If you need comfort, take it
in the fact that you will get what you deserve."
He went faster now, the preliminaries over, and her body responded
beautifully. He had brought her to an intimate place, where he
controlled all pleasure and pain, and gave her what she knew she
deserved. The terrifying intimacy of her situation broke her and she
sobbed out her confession.
"My Diary," She cried. "It’s all there. Oh, mercy, Sir! Please!"
No body moved. The Prince spoke. "This is true the, Katherine?"
She nodded, crying so hard that she was almost breathless and shook
with her sobs. She pressed her face into her hands, unable to bear the
sight of those around her.
The Prince nodded. "Then there shall be justice." He nodded to
Roland. "Disrobe her. It is unfitting that she should enjoy the
dignity of clothing. She may retain her corset and the boots, for the
Court will find it amusing that she not be utterly naked. But
everything else must go."
"As you wish, Sire," Roland said. He stood her before him and without
any preamble began to remove her clothes. She enjoyed being undressed
sensuously, and often instructed her handmaids to assist her in such a
manner. Then, she would admire her body, and if there were others
around, she would know that they found her beautiful, and she would
revel in their awe.
The Soldier just stripped her and it was horrible. There was no awe.
They enjoyed her beauty, but her terror and tears inspired more
amusement and pity than reverence. She stood in her corset, her silken
panties and her boots of white leather, and trembled. Her fine dress
lay on the side. Her face, carefully made up, was now streaked with
tears. She squirmed in place as he prepared to remove the last of her
dignity.
"Sir, no. . . you can’t. . ." She struggled for words that would
make him understand. He had to understand! "I am a Princess, Sir. . .
I cannot be shamed so. . ."
He nodded. "Because as a Princess, you will feel it so much more
deeply? Because if you are disgraced, you will be revealed to be
unworthy of your authority? And because once they have acquired a taste
for your humiliation and submission, it will be expected?"
Oh, mercy! He understood. She nodded, sobbing. Oh. . . Oh, he would
spare her. . . march her away, and she would suffer in private.
Roland shook his head. "You should feel it deeply, you are unworthy of
your authority, and I suspect it will be a long time before the Court
tires of you." He slit her panties at the waist with a pocket knife,
and drew them away. She felt them slide away, and she was exposed. The
Princess shrieked and folded to her knees, her hands trying to hide the
light that poured out of her. She heard the room reverberate with
laughter and applause.
The Prince held up a hand. During the silence, he studied the scene
before him. His wife shook and sobbed. The soldier awaited
instruction. "You did not know. You only suspected. You are lucky you
were right," He said.
Roland nodded once.
"Since you were right, and because of the risk you took, I wish to
reward you. Name it."
He didn’t hesitate. "Lady McLangly has a year of service to fulfill."
He looked back at her, and she looked up at him from the wrack she hung
on. On the floor, at his feet, Katherine realized what was happening,
and how her plans had failed. Even backfired. She moaned, deeply.
"I have need for an assistant and if you will grant me a boon, I would
like the service of Lady Jessica McLangly."
Jessica stared at him, trembling. She didn’t know what to feel, or
what to think. She felt the eyes of the assembly upon her but for the
first time she didn’t care.
The Prince laughed. "If I had figured so prominently in her. . .
desires, I might wish her as an assistant also. But there are some
matters that remain to be clarified. Her year is to be one of hardship.
Would you be strict with her?"
"I promise, Sire, that she shall, at times, wish she were under
Katherine’s hand. She shall be held to the highest expectations, and
corrected in a most thorough and meticulous manner when she does not
meet them."
The Prince nodded. "And more importantly, will you care for her? You
may treat her as a toy at times, but you must never forget that she is
not one."
He looked back again, appearing to assess her. He turned back to the
dais. "Sire, I cannot help but care for her. It is not an issue."
The Court broke into scattered, excited conversation. Whispered
suppositions. From sounds and tones and half heard words she realized
that they approved. She looked up, and found the Prince’s gaze upon
her.
"What do you think of this?" He asked, "Not that you have a say, but I
wish to know. You have been rather. . . revealed to him. Does not the
idea of his knowing your secret dreams intimidate you?"
"Terribly, Sire," She managed.
"And how do you feel about being punished by him?"
"He is. . ." She looked down, blushing again, "merciless with me. I
cannot bear it."
"Then do you wish to spend your year serving him, knowing that you
shall be spared nothing?"
She looked up and bit her lower lip and nodded. More than anything,
she thought.
"Then it is granted." He turned to Roland. "She is yours. See to it
that you are worthy of the honor."
Roland stepped past the Princess and as the Court watched in silence,
he crossed the floor to where she hung. He took her gently, and held
her while he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her then, and she
heard the roar of the crowd thunder in her ears.
Prince Richard nodded the Court. "Let the festivities begin."
Jessica, still mounted upon her wrack, had been moved to the dais,
where Roland stood by the Prince while they watched the Court floor fill
with feasters and dancers. Tables had been brought in, and there were
roast pigs basted in pineapple juice and sweet potatoes and steaming
pies and great flasks of wine and ale. The decision of how Princess
Katherine was to enjoy the occasion had been answered when it appeared
that one of the serving girls (one of her handmaids, apparently) could
not be found, and so it had been requested that she take the girl’s
place.
The Princess made a horrible servant, Roland thought, but she was
learning.
Lady Isabel, a strong, exotic beauty from their past had just corrected
her on her attitude. "You must be grateful to serve, Kathy," She said
with a smile. "Come here." The Princess came forward slowly, but
Isabel, seated on one of the long benches patted her lap. "Over me,
Honey. Right there. Good. Now spread your ankles wide. When I have a
new serving girl with a bad attitude, I always like to spank down upon
the buttocks and up upon the sex. It makes things much more personal and
effective."
Several of the other Ladies agreed and positioned themselves to enjoy
the spectacle. One asked, "Would you care that she’s already very sore
and tender ?"
"Mercy, no!" Isabel laughed. "I wouldn’t give it a thought. In
matters of attitude correction, I think it’s best to punish just as hard
as she were pristine." Again, there was much good-natured laughter and
agreement. They scolded the Princess playfully, telling her to keep
herself exposed that the punishment could be applied to the most
sensitive parts of the flesh, and offering suggestions of awful torments
she might endure if she dared close her legs. They had her in tears
before the spanking even began.
Isabel had been one of Jessica’s friends, and an outcast as well, in
school. Now, the Ladies (many of them from Katherine’s crowd) seemed to
feel that they had misjudged her and watched with rapt attention to see
how she would deal with the Princess.
"Just as I would any naughty servant girl," She explained. "I would
give her exactly what she needs."
The spanking began with one on the left, one on the right, and then an
upswing to lay a stroke on the tender curve of the Princess’s sex. The
sound was wet and loud. When the Princess screamed for mercy, she was
gently admonished that she was expected to show her appreciation for
being so well disciplined. The sound of her thanks rang out though the
room.
When, at last, Isabel was done, she consoled the sobbing girl, holding
her and telling her she would learn eventually. She showed the
Katherine the hand that had been used to chastise her and explained that
it was rather soiled with the wetness of Kathy’s sex, and that Kathy was
expected to clean it. She praised the girl’s humility as Princess
Katherine licked her clean.
But then there was a spill in the kitchen, and one of the girls,
smiling sweetly appeared in the doorway to summons the new serving girl
to come and clean it. She held a wooden spoon, and suggested that her
Princess come fast, or she would use it upon her. The Princess came as
fast as she could but it wasn’t enough and they all enjoyed the loud
scolding with emphasis delivered by the spoon, before Katherine
disappeared inside.
This had been going on all night, and would continue until the revelers
were through.
The Prince sighed. "I shall have to arrange for some very imaginative
trials for her. After all, she must be seen to suffer worse since her
station is higher."
Roland nodded. "I am sure there are many who would offer suggestions."
The Prince turned to his side. Jessica was exhausted. She had, during
the party, drifted off to sleep many times, despite her torment. When
she was awake, she was always dreamily happy that Roland was at her
side. He hadn’t left her, even when he had been asked to come down and
join in with the dancing and feasting. He had only left once to bring
her some wine and a plate of food that he fed to her and she devoured.
"I presume that she would be one of them." He made her look at him
"Lady Jessica, if it were your sentence to name, how would Princess
Katherine be cared for?
She glanced at Roland. "Be extravagant," He told her with a slight
smile. "We know you’re capable of it."
Jessica blushed, and began to consider.
Morning came and she realized that she was in the Soldier’s Quarters.
He had a private room and a cot, and a mat for her to sleep on. She was
covered with a blanket that was warm, but itchy and uncomfortable. Oh,
Mercy! The events of the night came flooding back to her, and she
stifled a whimper of passion and confusion. It seemed impossible, but
it was true. She looked up, afraid that some reality might break the
spell, and saw him sleeping easily upon his cot.
She drew the blanket closer around her and shivered, not from cold,
from the intensity of what she had experienced. When the revelers had
gone, he had lifted her, cleaned, and carried her here. She had been
mercifully exhausted and sore, and it had felt wonderful. Now concerns
like hunger and needing to use the chamber pot were allowed to be felt,
but those could be delayed. She was his. She played with the idea and
found it terrifying and wonderful at the same time. It was only for a
year but. . . but what then? And what might he do with her?
Why, anything, of course! The Princess had seen to that! He knew what
she imagined, and so he would not hesitate. If she needed to be
punished, he would use her own ideas and needs and fears against her,
and it would be unbearable! Awful! She shuddered and smiled, and
couldn’t take it anymore. She let her hand test her flesh.
Oh! Owww. . . still raw and sore from her hours on the Wheels. . . but
if she were careful. . . oh, the release would be. . . She looked up.
He was asleep? His breathing was regular and soft. Good. She explored
herself again, testing the sensitivity of the wet, pink flesh between
her lips. It was still slightly stitched with the bites of the insects,
and still swollen with kiss of the floggers and canes upon the wheel,
but it felt magnificent to touch it. Only the lightest, most
frustrating contact was allowed, but she felt that with a good half-hour
she might be able to relieve herself.
Jessica began to masturbate, letting her mind wander, and letting her
fingers search out what pleasure they could find. She closed her eyes
and she imagined she was in the Court, displayed, humiliated, and he
stood before her. He was naked and powerfully hard, and he meant to
match the dowel in her rear with his cock in her front. And she was so
raw and sore, and he was so big! She imagined that she begged him
(horrified) not to take her so, for she could not bear it, but he would!
Oh, he would be harsh and merciless, and she would. . .
He took her wrist and lifted it away from her and she moaned. Oh
mercy. . . Ohhhhhhhh. . . it was an agonizing, physical pain, and she
flopped, like a fish, beached, until she could master herself. Blushing
furiously, she dared glance up to meet his eye. He was smiling.
"Are Ladies allowed to do that?" He asked.
She shook her head.
"What about ladies who have been naughty?"
She shook her head again, looking down. She whimpered.
"And what should we do?"
"Punish me, Sir," She said, her voice very quiet. Oh, Mercy, this was
embarrassing! How was it that, after all she had been through, she
could still be mortified?
Roland pulled her, effortlessly lifting her atop him, and then he
rolled her over so that he was laying on her, looking down. She felt
the weight of his body. "I think," He told her, "That you have a good
many bad habits that we will need to break you of. This is one of them.
But perhaps the best way to begin is to show you how much better it
would be if it were done properly."
She felt pressure against her nether lips, and she moaned, and he slid
inside her. She ached and stretched, and cried out, pressing her lips
against his chest, and bucking up against him. Had he allowed it, she
would have spent instantly, but he didn’t. He moved slowly at first,
awakening rhythms deep inside her that built like a tide. Like a tidal
wave. She struggled to hasten the process, but he knew what he was
doing, and there was no hope of that. Finally, she just let him, and
she felt herself come apart. From outside, the servants passing in the
hall could see flashes, like strobe lights coming from the crack under
the door, and they heard her moaning. He must be punishing her
horribly, they thought, and hurried on.
The pillory in the courtyard compelled it’s occupant to kneel and it
included cuffs for the ankles to insure that the flesh between the legs
would be visible. It was on a circular platform no more than a few
inches off the ground, that turned so that the Lords and Ladies and
servants and soldiers could enjoy the view from their windows. Often a
naughty maid, or a misbehaving young private occupied the pillory, but
today it was the Princess.
She heard passing soldiers joke about how she turned like a lighthouse,
and maids giggled near the walls over discussion on the state of her
buttocks and thighs. When she thought of how she had been humiliated
during the night, she cried, and wished miserably that they had allowed
her some privacy. They hadn’t even taken her to the bath chamber! The
moment she had awakened, she had been brought here!
At least someone would bring her food soon. She was starving. In all
the punishments given at the court, from the towers to the dungeons,
guards would see to it that the subject received food and water,
otherwise, no relief. She had often enjoyed assigning long stays in
such bondage because she knew that it magnified even the smallest
discomforts to heroic proportions. Now, with not even an hour passed,
she was beginning to understand how cruel she’d been. She wiggled
uncomfortably and tried to find some measure of peace. Footsteps. Oh.
. . someone. She looked up and was glad to see two figures carrying
bowls that would be her breakfast, but then she gasped.
"Good morning, Kathy," Jessica said. She nodded, surveying the young
woman’s body. Very appropriate, she thought, smiling. Very severe. "I
brought you some oatmeal, but before you’re allowed to eat it, I’m to
give you four tablespoons of castor oil." She sat down beside the
Princess’s head, and lifted some of the girl’s hair out of her face.
Andrea moved around behind her, out of view.
"I. . . please, Jessie, I can’t.. . . I’m to be out here all day,"
Katherine said softly.
"Then you’ll want your breakfast," Jessica told her. She began to
measure a soon of the dark liquid.
"They. . . please. They won’t let me out. Not even to. . ." She
sucked in air that became a sob. "I’m out in public, Jessie! Everyone
can see me. . ." Jessica stroked her cheek, feeling the tension in her.
Fear of humiliation. Fear, Jessica thought, of humiliation that would
come to pass. "Spare me this, I. . . oh, Jessie, I’m begging you!"
‘Shhh. . ." Jessica gently parted the Princess’s lips, and fed her the
spoonful. She smiled at the Princess’s face. Just like a child! "Just
three more," She coaxed.
Sobbing, furious at the unfairness of it, but afraid of what they would
do if she disobeyed, the Princess took her medicine. Jessica’s
soothing, mocking comments about what a good girl she was being made it
infinitely worse! Oh, she hated the girl! Oh, this was torture! It
tasted terrible, and it made her stomach feel heavy and full, and she
knew where that would lead. . .
"Do you want to feed her while I apply the soap?" Andrea asked.
"Soap?" She asked. What were they talking about?
"It’s a rather severe, pasty soap," Jessica explained. "It needs to be
washed off quickly, or the itch is just horrible. You can’t imagine.
Andrea’s going to clean your anus and sex, but we haven’t brought any
water. I’m sure someone will come along and rinse you. And soon I
hope. I’m told it’s just maddening. . ." She shook her head.
The Princess’s expression was wonderful, "No! Please, not. . ." She
shook her head.
Andrea giggled. "They didn’t even gag her. Do you suppose she’ll beg
passing stable boys to come and clean her? Maybe order them to?" The
idea was awful, and even though it was hopeless, Katherine struggled.
Andrea watched her for a time, and then, to end it, spanked her once.
The Princess cried out and then whimpered. She was that tender.
"You’re to stay still, Kathy," Andrea said. "Do you understand?"
They wanted her to say it. They wanted her to talk, and she realized
miserably that she had no choice. "I understand," She said quietly, and
as though it were a great effort.
SLAP! Katherine cried out, and just as she was finished, Andrea
spanked her again. "I understand," She said, desperately and with great
conviction, "I do! I shall be still! Ow! OWW! Please! PLEASE!"
Jessica laughed delightedly. "Why Kathy, she’s hardly even spanking
you! Are you that tender?"
Behind her, Andrea playfully swatted at the defenseless target. She
was amazed at how quickly she could render the Princess squealing and
begging, and wished to explore this state. She also watched the girl’s
frustration level rise. Being held in place and spanked was galling!
"How are you to address Jessie and I, Katherine?" She asked, making sure
she kept the girl nearly hysterical to make answering more difficult.
"Miss. . . I mean, Ma’am! I understand, Ma’am! Pleaaseee!"
"And you’ll be good?" She was glad to see that Jessica was entertained
greatly by this. Let’s see if I can entertain her more, Andrea thought.
"I’ll be good, Ma’am! I promise! I’ll be good! Please! Oh, please,
stop! I can’t bear it! Oh. . . OH!"
"Then beg me to soap you. Be specific and loud," She had to raise her
own voice to be heard over Katherine’s cries, "enough to make everyone
knows what you need."
Surely, Jessica thought, this is too much! Surely she won’t submit to
that, and she’ll have to be thrashed thoroughly! She expected some
resistance, but the Princess’s swollen buttocks were beyond bearing
anything and she cried out, desperate to please her tormentors.
"Soap me! Please soap me terribly! Oh, my. . . oh, my sex." SLAP!
"My Sex!" She cried so that Jessica blushed, thinking about who was
watching this and how it must look. Poor Katherine! "And my anus!
Please! Please punish me terribly! Oh! Oh!"
"There, there, Princess," Jessica said. The spanking was over, but
Katherine was still struggling to compose herself. They gave her a time
to think about her situation and bring her trembling body under control.
Then Jessica began to feed her, spooning oatmeal into her mouth, while
Andrea smeared some of her most delicate skin. She felt soaped fingers
slide in and out of her, leaving her gasping for breath. She was even
still when Andrea, finding her clitoris sensitive, rubbed it harshly,
so that the discomfort was incredible.
Finally they were done, and Jessica stood. "I think you’ll have plenty
of time to learn to take your spankings, Kathy." She knelt and kissed
her tenderly and Katherine watched them leave. Her hand twitched in the
pillory lock. Somewhere, between her thighs, she felt the irritation
begin. "Jessie, Andrea! Please! Oh, please! Oh, mercy, don’t leave
me like this! Oh, it’s terrible! Oh. Oh, I shall perish!"
Andrea giggled. "Do you think she realizes it’s not even began yet?"
She asked Jessica. Jessica looked back and then up at the clear morning
sky.
"If she doesn’t, she will." She said with a smile.
When she next appeared in Court, some days had passed and some
preparations had been made. Jessica looked different, too. She was
dressed simply, for travel, with an ankle length brown skirt and a
forest green blouse. Her hair was tied back. It was clean and
straight. Roland allowed her no makeup and no styling. He had also had
her fitted for anklets, bracelets, and a collar of soft leather. They
were almost imperceptible, but she felt like they were terribly obvious.
Not obvious, but more of a problem, was the leather belt she wore under
her dress. She had confessed, over his knee, to masturbating often, and
this would prevent that. It also meant she had to ask to relieve
herself in other ways, and that she would receive no privacy at any
time, but she had not been asked her opinion of the matter.
She stood behind him, her neck bent, and she endured comments about how
she looked like his contrite kid sister from the onlookers with a faint
blush. It could, she realized, be much, much worse.
The Princess’s throne was gone. In it’s place was a great wooden chair
of ancient manufacture. It was intricately designed, with gargoyles
staring down from it’s back, and hand rests carved like swans. It was,
in it’s way, more impressive and imposing than even the Prince’s chair,
but that was okay. It had a purpose, and it served it’s purpose to draw
attention to itself.
Princess Katherine sat in it, her wrists and forearms strapped to its
arms, he ankles and calves tied along it’s legs, spreading them wide.
The ties were snug but comfortable: it had been decided that she would
still sit in Court, and thus would, on some weeks, sit all day, every
day. But her buttocks did not rest on it’s seat, rather they hovered
above it, her weight supported by straps that held her body in place.
She was immobile and naked.
The seat of the Princess’s Throne was carved as a face, in relief on
the dark wood, and this was magic. It smiled up at her with wooden eyes
and wooden lips, and with it’s soft, warm wooden tongue, it licked. It
had started licking her the moment she was seated, and it only stopped
when she was about to spend. The chair waited then, for its mistress to
calm down so it might begin again.
At first, it took some time to bring her to the edge. It would spend
its effort between the lips of her sex and the tight, narrow opening of
her anus. As one hour became two though, the time that she stayed in
that heightened, dangerous state, where she might spend with the
slightest pleasure was longer, and so was the time that she went with no
stimulation at all.
She could beg, though. She was tied and gagged, but she could beg with
her hips and eyes, and she did. She saw them come and with a wild,
hysterical expression, she moaned into the gag and tried to thrust her
hips forward, inviting them to relieve her. Jessica saw tears on her
cheeks, and watched her blush. She knew exactly how this looked,
exactly how awful it was, and she did it anyway. She needed the
friction. She needed to be filled. It would not happen. Not for a
year.
Jessica smiled up at her, and she looked away, unable to bare the
girl’s pity.
Roland addressed the Prince. "I wish to leave, Sire. I have. . . I
think I am tired of the Court."
"Where will you go?" The Prince asked.
"To some of the New Lands, or perhaps the Dusk Valley. No place
impossibly far or dangerous, but somewhere there’s adventure to be had."
He shrugged. "Wherever the road goes."
"And Jessica will accompany you?"
"She must. And I dislike traveling alone."
The Prince nodded. "I grant you leave then. Go out and learn new
things and tell us all of your adventures when you return." He looked
at Jessica. "Obey him, and learn from him, and take care of him."
"Yes, Sire," She nodded.
They were on the road that wound down from the Palace to the rolling
foothills. They both rode his horse, her sitting in front of him, so
that she rested against his chest and as he held the reigns, he held
her. She was thinking ahead to when they might stop for the night, and
maybe she could convince him (after dinner of course) to allow her a
bath in one of the warm streams near here. And then, when they were in
the water together, she might swim up to him and. . . She smiled,
glanced back, and noticed an odd, puzzled expression on his face.
"Sir?"
He shook his head. "Just wondering. The Throne is a terrible
punishment, but I had thought you’d have her put on the Wheel. . ." He
looked at her. "You didn’t think of it?"
"Oh I did," She smiled. "I even went to look at it again." She sighed,
with a little laugh. "It was. . . occupied."
-- THE END --
ArkSyn
