House of Judges (House of Royals Book 4) by Keary Taylor Page B

brilliant smile. Looking around, she spots Madame and signals her over.
    “Nice work, as always, Natalia,” she offers with an approving look-over. “I think Joanne needs you next.”
    I’m almost sad when Natalia flitters away to whore up the next victim. She kept my mind off of what was coming up next.
    “This is your costume for tonight,” Madame says, holding out something on a hanger. “Get dressed and then we’ll give you some pointers.”
    I take the hanger from her, but I’m not even sure how to put this thing on. Lace and straps dangle all over the place.
    “Please hurry up,” Madame says as she walks over to a man, who’s fully dressed, and takes a black box he offers.
    I stand and make my way to the darkest corner of the dressing room. Once again turning my back to everyone, I attempt to figure out the contraption.
    It’s not quite as intimidating as I thought at first. A deep red lacy bra that actually hides nothing has little crisscrossing straps that stretch down my sides, attaching to the panties, leaving my stomach and back exposed. The panties are lacy, as well, and ride up my crack, exposing most of my butt.
    A pair of black heels, five inches tall, accompany the number. I slip them on and am surprised when they’re not as impossible to walk in as I expected.
    “Yes, you’ll do nicely,” Madame says in approval as I walk back over to her. “Although, those certainly mar the appeal a bit.”
    I cover my stomach with my hands, embarrassed. The two red scars that stretch up from my panty line stand out in bright contrast to my pale skin.
    “No matter, their focus isn’t going to be on them,” she says, setting the black box on a chair and opening it. “But on this.”
    From the box, she produces a crown.
    My crown.
    The golden one with the raven symbol affixed in the center of it. Upon closer observation, I see it is not my actual crown. But it’s a nearly perfect replica.
    So not only are they going to get a rise out of my station, Cyrus has chosen to publicly shame my entire family and House.
    “Don’t fight it my dear,” Madame says, lifting the crown and placing it on my head. “As I said, the King was very specific about his orders.”
    “I will serve my penance,” I say with a false smile.
    “That’s a good girl,” she says as she leads me back to one corner of the changing room. She pulls back a curtain and yells for someone, speaking in German. Two girls follow us in. We enter into a smaller room, lit only with a black light. And standing in the center of the room is a pole.
    Madame speaks to them again in German, fast and quick. I wonder where she is from. When she speaks English, her accent is perfectly American, but she seems to speak German with perfect ease.
    “Watch them closely,” Madame says, turning to me. “They will show you some basics. You’ll need all this for tonight.”
    I can’t believe I’m here, watching these two girls grind and swing around this pole. I can’t believe I’m being forced into this. I can’t believe how quickly life can change.
    But there is something hypnotic about it all. Something primal. Carnal.
    Even I can’t seem to look away from their movements, and I’ve never been attracted to a woman.
    Klub Blut und Lüste . So fitting.
    “Now, you,” Madame says, waving her hand for me to take the pole. “I need to be sure you aren’t going to go out on stage and just awkwardly hump the pole.”
    I’m a little offended, but I can’t say she’s wrong.
    I’ve never done this before.
    The girls’ movements are still fresh in my mind, so I do my best to repeat them. Sliding up and down, swinging with one leg wrapped around it. I feel so exposed and open, like everything I’m wearing is going to fall apart and leave me naked and bare.
    “It’s not perfect, but it’ll do,” Madame says. She turns to the girls again and says something in German. They exit the room.
    “You’ll go on in just a few minutes. The first stage of