The owner finds the drunken beauty.

Boris placed a crystal glass with a light-colored liquid on the table, letting it clink softly against the tabletop.

— My little pony, while you were riding home, I missed you, — a pause, — and saved a gift for you. To feed a girl who's been starving without me.

I, sitting at his feet, and the lawyer, standing behind Boris's shoulder, stared at the glass.

Borya, of course, is a wonderful man, talented and all that, but I was already eagerly awaiting the end of the competition, quite tired of his antics. Crown on the head and bye-bye, daddy, "oh, I'll remember every day we were together."

What's the fun, for goodness' sake, in eating his yesterday's sperm without sex and a high?

My sober

brain didn't want to eat THAT just like that, it demanded motivation and persuasion.

And the lawyer, a dark-haired guy, I really liked him at the meeting in the sauna. I felt shy around him.

I cautiously crawled away. Borya squatted down next to me and started petting my head, like a stubborn animal.

— My fairy, I want all-all the sperm to go into you. Inside. The best for the best girl.

I glanced sideways at the lawyer, who unexpectedly calmly took the glass and went somewhere.

Unaware of what was happening behind his back, Borya continued to try.

— You like it when it's straight from the cock, Dashenka.

I jingled the bit uncertainly, which the playful Boris had put on me right after I arrived.

— And this is symbolic, — "daddy" blissfully closed his eyes, — you'll take my seed with all your food. I'll decorate pastries with it. Guests will come, your parents again, and you'll eat those pastries right in front of them...

I crawled back a little more with my rear. Borya kept advancing.

— And then I tell everyone — the most beautiful girl in the city eats only what I prepare! And I wink!

His arguments were somehow... off-topic. They didn't captivate me, didn't find a response in me. I weakly argued and shook my head. For about 5 minutes the situation was a stalemate.

The lawyer calmly entered the room and handed the glass to Borya. The level of the contents was the same, but the color was clearer, and on the sparkling facets, a few trickling drops were visible. Something tells me — fresh ones. A quick guy...

— Thank you, Sash., — my patron nods absentmindedly, looks at me reproachfully, and dips a prepared silver spoon in there, scooping a tiny bit onto the very tip., — Don't be capricious, open your mouth, baby.

Both are watching. Feeling the emerging pleasure from the situation, I uncertainly open my mouth.

Borya beams with satisfaction, the lawyer — grins.

I like feeling Sasha looking at me. I smile at him, not at Borya, and lick the contents of the spoon.

Oh, the man, unsuspecting, is feeding me someone else's sperm... My legs begin to tremble, and my butt wiggles.

"Daddy" proudly glances back at Sasha.

— True, isn't it awesome?

— True, — he nods slowly, — allow me, Boris Petrovich, to finish feeding her from the glass? I've never done that before.

He nods graciously.

— Finish feeding her, but we need to go, see how they changed the ramp on stage after yesterday's incident. I'll gather some documents and we'll meet at the car.

The guy extends the spoon, but not to my mouth, holds it at a distance. And I reach for it.

I want this still warm, light dessert. He lets me lick it off, then runs the empty spoon over my lips and scoops again. The brunette's gaze is hot. Do you like how your sperm is being eaten from a spoon?

I elegantly lick a drop from my pink, full upper lip with the curved, sharp tip of my tongue, letting him see how wet it is, with veins underneath. I stretch my neck and whinny happily. I playfully reach again, my eyes sparkling.

Borya admires how his little pony is being fed sperm.

— Only two more competitions and the little pony will take Vice-Miss.

— Stop! Why Vice, and not first prize? — I almost choked from indignation.

— You don't need first, — Borya said confidently, putting on his jacket, — that would mean you'd have to go further — to the regional beauty contest, then Russia. This way you'll be Miss, and you'll stay with me.

That was a blow. I sat on the floor, in the swimsuit from the swimsuit competition, which I convincingly won, crushing all the competitors. A bit dangled on my slack jaw. Drops of sperm on my lips. What a fool I am. What an asshole he is...

Whoever was with me — I allowed them. I chose who to be with, in exchange for nice pleasantries. Or ran away later.

And now Boris wants to just keep me with him? To feed me pastries? Ha! I'll dump him. As usual.

The door slammed shut. Go on, go on, daddy. I'll figure out how to get the crown myself.

Sasha's firm fingers squeezed my chin, pulling my jaw down even more.

— Listen here. When you eat my sperm, — his voice was quiet and threatening. I trembled, oh, what a voice — You don't think about anything, you just eat sperm. Understood?

I nodded as if hypnotized by his voice, actions, confidence that he could command me. And I was being commanded right now, not begged to obey. How I like him. What an interesting guy... The main thing is that Boris doesn't find out.

— Eat.

And I began diligently licking the spoon, melting from his voice and seed. When the glass was cleaned out with my tongue (Alexander tilted the vessel, pressing it into my face, and watched carefully as my red tongue fussed and crawled around inside), he encouragingly patted my cheek, silently stood up, and left after his employer.

Sitting there, licking my lips sluggishly, I realized that for the first time I had gone into sexual submission completely sober.

— How was it, defendant? — my astonished brain asked.

— In full consciousness, sound memory, and with pleasure, Your Honor!

— — —

After that, they ignored me the whole day!

I walked past during rehearsals, swaying my hips, smiling sweetly. And he didn't even turn his head.

I hung on the satisfied daddy. Flirted with the wallets from the jury. No reaction at all.

And then I'm walking down the corridor, and Sasha is groping the slut-makeup artist. And if it were just groping, but he put his hand under her skirt and is clearly moving it there... The slut threw her head back, moaning, bitch.

What could I do? The corridor is narrow. I walk, proudly raising my chin. I don't see you, stubbornly!

Then Sasha jerked me and, grabbing my throat, simply slammed me against the wall. The makeup artist gasps, suddenly abandoned, Sasha breathes heavily, and I am silent, only burning him with my gaze.

His palm is wide, warm, its place is right on my throat. I licked my lips, knowing how my lips look in men's eyes. Invitingly...

Two fingers unexpectedly softly, probingly, creep in and make their way between my slightly parted lips.

What a brazen guy. The juices of that girl are on his fingers. As if he collected them on purpose...

But I have no strength at all to resist his eyes, his confident touches. And I accept, moaning as I suck on his strong, hard fingers.

How can he torment me like this... It even became hard to breathe. I carefully fixed my lipstick, studying my face in the mirror. Well, no comparison at all. The makeup artist is just an ugly girl!

As a result, my rehearsals didn't go well, I answered inappropriately, which terribly pissed off Borya.

Tomorrow is the penultimate competition stage, and I can't pull myself together, such a so-and-so, let's crucify me, damn it. Oh, how scared I am.

After throwing, to the delight of the amused onlookers, one after the other both of my shoes at Borya, I, in tears, rushed out of the hall. Borya yelled, then spat and continued to direct the rehearsal.

I walked, so bitterly, so bitterly, no strength left. I was caught at the far row of seats near the exit.

— Tired?

Ooo. My hero. Sasha. With attentive, tenacious eyes, with unbuttoned shirt sleeves, so calm.

I sniffled and blinked my wet eyelashes, not knowing if I could lean on his neck. And Borya is by the stage, he might look back, think something else.

Sasha moved aside a pile of curtains and costumes piled on chairs, they hadn't been cleared from the previous competition yet. He considerately sat me down next to him by the aisle.

For a couple of minutes we silently watched the people bustling around the stage, he stroked my knee, good.

Not the slightest protest or surprise was caused in me either by him lowering the thin straps of my dress, or by how he stroked my bare breasts.

I blink my eyes, looking forward, not resisting. His palms press on my shoulders, and I, even with relief, slide down between the rows, hiding behind the backs of the chairs in front.

The resourceful lawyer throws some gauze from the nearby curtains over me. And already allows me myself to undertake all further actions.

For a while I suck greedily and quickly, because he drove me to it, drove me. Now I'm just burning up to the point of writhing.

Sasha has to stroke me soothingly.

— Shhh, it's okay, little pony, it's okay. Suck, baby, don't worry.

I moo something already even incomprehensible to me, complaining.

— Take off the left shoe and sock. I'll caress you.

When his finger enters my soft, leaking slit, and my breasts rub against his legs, right above my head a familiar booming baritone sounds.

— Oh, already relaxing at the end of the day, Sashok?

— Seems like I deserved it, Boris Petrovich. Or am I wrong?

— Right — right. And what fairy is that?

Sasha, confidently pulls the gauze and hem from the side, lifting them and exposing my rear, which is sitting on his leg.

— The makeup artist, a sweet girl. Want to join?

Boris coughs embarrassedly.

— Not the years anymore to do it right in the hall, Sash, not the years... But you have fun, I won't disturb. I'll go look for Dashka, I offended her inadvertently.

All this time Alexander's leg is moving.

And to the sound of my daddy's departing footsteps, I obediently, shamefully, and sweetly come.

The guy throws the gauze over me again, but immediately uncovers my frightened, red face.

— Scared?

I nod, looking into his absolutely calm eyes.

— Don't be afraid of anything, understood?

And he takes out his cock. He tilts my head back a little, and with a couple of hand movements shoots right into my open mouth.

I accept, not moving a muscle, despite the fact that people could walk down the aisle to the exit, that bright light is hitting my face. I accept all his sperm. Then I swallow. And he lets me kiss his cock.

— — — —

The "Questions and Answers" competition took place in a nervous atmosphere.

The girls got confused, stammered.

Oksana, generously endowed either by nature or by a talented surgeon, had a thin strap tear from nervous breathing. As a result, one of the wall-mounted weapons was unveiled.

The camera operators hurried to film her from a more decent angle, but the attention-hungry contestant, puzzled as to where they were going, abruptly began to turn towards the fleeing cameras, demonstrating an impressively powerful pink nipple.

— Your biggest dream? — bleated the confused host.

— To feed all the hungry children in the world, — the beauty announced breathlessly, confidently moving her bare breast.

Next was Irina, a long-haired brunette with bright red lips.

— Your plans for the coming years? — the host advanced on her intimately. But Irochka didn't react to him, even delicately turned away so he wouldn't interfere with her looking at the hall.

Backstage we were all in plain sight, the dressing rooms were shared, when changing, the girls, trying to zip up their dresses, sometimes jumped half-naked into the corridors.

So it was no secret to anyone that the doe-eyed host, during breaks between rehearsals, would, jerking his ass behind a curtain, bend over some young guy from the technical staff. Or himself, unabashedly, sucked off a young oligarch from the jury in the utility room.

The showman's changing passive/active activity became a frequent topic of discussion among the girls. It's interesting, how they do each other like that... And how they got to such hunger.

Fuel was added to the fire by the fact that the aforementioned oligarch himself showed interest not so much in the host as he paid attention to some of the girls.

These "Sodom and Gomorrah" both amazed and delighted me at the same time. I tried to