Leotard

"Just because I'm too young to make little princess babies doesn't mean you can't take pictures of me, silly," Vala laughed as she swung, making her pert breasts sway and bounce while Deximo watched, looking somewhat helpless.

Deximo was just about to ask something, but the Princess already sensed the question and snapped her response.

"Not tellin'. Look it up in the Who's Who, Mister Journalist."

Deximo looked like he was just about to destroy the film in his camera when I grabbed it from him and continued shooting the princess as she swung from a nearby vine, playfully taunting him with her all-but-naked young body.

"What's wrong, Dezmo?" Vala giggled wildly as she swung. "How old did you think I was? And does it even matter? Not like I'm naked or anything."

Dezmo. Poor guy. None of his models can pronounce his name. Read more »

Not old enough?

"No, not old enough. Of course, I guess, once I'm Empress I can fuck anyone I want," Vala commented, "You would assume, right?"

Deximo slowly nodded, now trying not to stare at the precious little rump and pert breasts so luridly revealed in pure Carnipelagian rubber.

Above the Middle Cabins, we reached a broad platform that branched off to an intersection of ladders and stairways.

"This is the Mezzanine," Vala explained, reaching for a vine, "The Breeding Cabins are over there."

Breeding cabins. Acrobat culture is a very secretive and communal one. Off in the distance we could see that, indeed, there really were those fabled buildings.

"Emie knows I'm not old enough to breed," Vala muttered. Read more »

"Windi Welch got nothing on you, babygirl," Emie cracked as she began to slide back into her cabin, refering to the notorious covergirl of our February issue.

"Shut up," Vala cursed, suppressing another giggle. "But thank you, Emie."

"You're welcome. Good night, Your Luminence."

"Good night, Emie. And don't be jealous."

"Oh I am."

Emie slid back into her cabin and without a word, Vala lead us upward.

"And Mom is okay with this?" quizzed Emie.

"What's it to you? It's my suit," replied the heiress to the Carnipelagian Throne.

Mom. They referred to their Empress here as "Mom."

"Well, you look perfectly fuckable," said Emie, "Hell, I'd do you."

"Shut up. Don't be gay," Vala was still trying not to laugh, obviously feigning consternation with her friend's off-color remarks.

We'd already witnessed the relationship between these two world-class tumblers and were once again amused by it. Read more »

As we climbed the stairways to what Vala referred to as the "middle cabins," we were stopped by the creak of an opening cabin door.

"What's up?" chirped the voice behind the door. It was Emie, the lead tumbler of Tramptastic.

"I was hoping not to wake you," replied Vala, "These are the Penis Island people."

Emie giggled at the slur. Then she noticed what her fellow acrobat was wearing.

"Oooh! The rubber suit," Emie seemed excited. "Oh my... I thought you were saving that for your breeding day."

"Hush, you," Vala snapped, suppressing a giggle, it seemed.

Our senior photographer stammered a bit at the comment about heights. She seemed to know that Deximo had a little problem with hypoxia.

"You're coming aren't you?" She sneered.

We followed.

"These are the lower cabins," Vala explained about the platform on which we currently stood. "It's nice, but higher-ranking Caseme is up there."

She pointed to a series of stairs, ladders and vines that lead to even more lofty cabins and structures within the jungle canopy.

"With me," she added, "I hope you clowns are not afraid of heights."

As soon as her little friends darted off, Vala removed the robe to reveal a skintight, see-through bodysuit made of something that looked like rubber.

"Pure Carnipelagian rubber," she confirmed, "I wanted to promote one of our most valuable exports to your perverted audience. Like it?"

Uh huh. Our socks were slinking but not quite knocked off just yet. But close.