I was young and dating a prince who lived in a palace. This palace was very interesting, it was like houses set in trees, and the palace was the most lavish of course. Anyway we hung out together when he should have been doing other princely duties. And we ate lunch in the cafeteria I was always hungry, I think I was either poor, or lived on the streets. Either way I was always hungry, and tempted to eat lunch twice. I didn't always, out of respect, but I really wanted to. The princes mother didn't like me. She ordered the prince to send me out of the palace and not to let me back in. The Prince walked me to the door, and did tell me I had to leave, and he'd figure out a way to sneak me back I some time. I was very offended. He was sorry and sheepish but was honestly planning to make it up. I left and walked off the ledge, which led to a tower of stairs. These stairs suddenly up and moved, like ran away, to another house nearby. The Prince was left standing there watching with binoculars to see where I went. Some guy had kidnapped me because he wanted to become my suitor. I of course didn't want him but he went to great league gets to snatch me away. The Prince was put out and instead of heading back inside to be the dutiful prince plotted a way to reduce me. I think I was chewing gout the other dude the whole time, having none of the new suitor business. ------- I moved into a new apartment of sorts. It was less an apartment and more a closet with beds and a roommate, and doors which led to other similar apartments. Some girl in an adjacent apartment/closet had her radio on, or the news, and it was blasting stories about women being raped, or recovering from rape, or similar stuff. I put up a large fuss hearing that, well it wasn't that large. If this had been a normal apartment my protest would have gone as unheard as the private thoughts in my head. But it was a crap apartment and my roommate was very quiet and cowed herself by the neighbors already which pissed me off. Then the neighbors yelled at me thinking I was terrible for not wanting to listen to that stuff. One, a rather buff sexy lady, came over from her apartment to beat me up. I just laughed at her and she left. I was still angry about being told to shut up in my own apartment. And for being judged about wanting to have peaceful thoughts and not immerse myself in sob stories. Underneath that anger, I think the anger was only there to cover it up, was hurt and guilt and shame. ------ I was a cross version of myself. But I was also female with a tiny dick. It was cross too. I was angry but it was malformed, like the eye of it was twisted, like a pretzel. This other version of me was laughing at my anger. Or perhaps at my cross dick. Either way she fixed it really fast by finger fucking me/it. I stopped being cross and my cross dick went away. Instead it turned into a wet pussy like normal.