by Carla Kane
The Orient Express was a marvelously decorated steam-engine, with opulent drapes and furnishings, low smooth lighting from the lamps that adorned every table. She moved fast through the carriages, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight professional bun and her glasses perched atop her gentle nose. First impressions were important and she wanted to show the prince that she meant business.
She reached the back carriage of the train and introduced herself to the two well-dressed body-guards outside the prince’s door.
‘Hi, Jenny Campbell, Parlor Magazine – I’m here for the interview…’
‘Lift your arms,’ one of the thugs grunted and stepped forward to frisk her for hidden weapons.
Jenny shivered involuntarily as the body-guard’s thick calloused hands roughly patted her ribs and hips. She wasn’t used to such treatment, but then there was a war going on so she couldn’t complain.
‘Spread your legs,’ the guard ordered.
Jenny paused for a moment. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with this. The thugs exchanged a quick glance and then snickered.
‘If you want to get in you will have to spread your legs and let us search you,’ the first one shrugged, ‘or you can just turn around and go back to your cabin. But I must warn you, the prince will not be pleased.’
Jenny sighed slowly. It’s ok, she told herself, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the prince’s guards were getting a little more enjoyment out of this than they should have been. She cleared her throat and spread her legs, her skin tingling as she did so. Under her professional grey business skirt, she wore only a pair of sleek black stockings and flimsy lace underwear. Exposed to the whim of these two thugs she suddenly felt very underdressed indeed.
The first guard murmured something to his colleague in his native tongue and the other man laughed. He kneeled down on one knee before her – almost as though he was proposing marriage – and then placed his hands behind her thighs. Despite herself, Jenny felt a flush of heat as the guard slowly patted her legs down to her boots. He stood up.
‘There,’ he smiled, ‘that wasn’t so bad now was it?’ He stood back and opened the door into the prince’s quarters.
‘Gentlemen,’ Jenny nodded coldly and stepped inside.
The cabin was long and dim, furnished even more expensively than the rest of the train. A faint musk of some exotic incense hung in the air. At the end of the carriage, Prince Rogozhin rose from a cashmere-draped sofa, dressed in an expensive black suit. The prince was tall and dark, with long brown hair that reached down to his shoulders. Above his soft full lips and aquiline nose, his big brown eyes were shimmering pools of intensity. In his hand he held a brandy glass.
‘Miss Campbell,’ he called, his voice a deep, thick European cadence, ‘please come forward.’
As she moved down the long carriage, Jenny noted with some surprise a stuffed tiger by the wall, poised as if to strike with a huge snarl ripping its feline face. Compensating for something, she wondered?
‘I killed it myself,’ the prince smiled, following her eyes, ‘that night I had my chef prepare its heart cooked in chopped scallions and century-old wine…’
Wow, jenny thought, maybe not.
Prince Rogozhin stepped forward to meet her, offering his hand palm open. ‘Prince Vladimir Rogozhin,’ he said, ‘I trust Ganya and Myshkin did not subject you to too much scrutiny outside?’
‘Jenny Campbell,’ Jenny answered, considering the prince’s strange knowing smile, ‘not at all – I understand these are precarious times for you…’
The prince shrugged. ‘All times are precarious when you are a prince. Please sit. Can I offer you a drink? I was just now sampling a fine Irish brandy, it is quite pleasant indeed.’
Jenny sat down on the soft couch opposite the prince and crossed her legs, the flesh of her thighs pressing tight against each other through the rough fabric of her stockings. ‘No thank you,’ she said, ‘I’d like to get straight down to business…’
‘Suit yourself,’ the prince smiled, ‘though I must divulge that there are only three bottles of this particular brandy left in the world. All three are in my cabinet.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Jenny said. She considered herself a modern, independent woman – she wasn’t going to be taken in by all this pomp, was she? As she looked over at the prince’s intense dark eyes which pierced deeply out of his otherwise calm face, she felt a tingle rush down her spine that suggested otherwise.
Come on Jenny, she told herself, wise up – this is an opportunity of a lifetime, Pulitzer prize material, so straighten up and do it right. Never mind if he’s the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.
She produced her notebook and clicked her ballpoint pen. ‘Shall we begin?’ she asked.
‘Please,’ the prince offered, that same knowingly mysterious smile on his soft dark lips.
‘So it’s been over a week now since war broke out with your neighboring province,’ Jenny began, ‘can you give me an update on proceedings? How long do you think this conflict is liable to continue?’
The prince took a moment to consider the question. He was obviously a man who liked to approach each matter with full consideration.
‘Well,’ he said finally, ‘violence is, of course, always a last resort…’
Jenny nodded.
‘But when the correct channels of communication have broken down then there is nothing else left to do but strike. And when it is time to strike the only proper way to do so is with great force and terrible vengeance.’
‘A little barbaric is it not?’ Jenny asked.
‘Hah,’ the prince smiled, ‘are we not men? Is it not how we have protected and expanded ourselves since the dawn of time?’
‘Perhaps,’ Jenny said, ‘but this is the twenty-first century, wouldn’t you say it’s time now to approach such things with more of a progressive slant?’
‘Ha,’ the prince smiled, ‘a typically American sentiment – less earnest than it is hypocritical…’
Jenny bristled in her seat. ‘How so?’
‘Well,’ the prince shrugged, ‘is it not true that even as we speak your own government plunders and loots the desserts of the middle-east?’
‘Maybe,’ Jenny answered, ‘but if you knew me better you’d know that I have penned some plenty harsh criticisms of our foreign policy in the past…’
‘I’m sure you have. But if you woke up one morning to find that you were forced to cover your whole body and face beneath a black shawl, you might feel a little differently, no?’
As the prince continued to smile coolly, Jenny felt a flash of anger. For all his suave and sophisticated trappings he was just a typical masculine brute – and he was getting to her. She decided to change the subject and go on the offensive.
‘This war is only young,’ she said, ‘but already allegations of war crimes have surfaced. What is your opinion of such things?’
For a moment the prince’s smile faltered and a hint of cruelty appeared in his eyes. Within seconds he recomposed himself.
‘Like I told you earlier,’ he said, ‘when I am forced to strike I do so with great force and terrible vengeance. That alone is the path to quick peace.’
‘Respectfully, I disagree,’ Jenny said.
‘And as a free woman that is your right to do so. If you were my woman, perhaps you would feel otherwise…’
His dark, shimmering eyes considered her with deep intensity. Suddenly Jenny felt slightly faint.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked.
With a laugh the prince waved his hand. ‘Come now Miss Campbell,’ he said, ‘why must we be so serious. All week I have been inundated with such matters, let us now take a moment to repose. Let me fix you a drink.’
‘Thank you, no,’ Jenny answered, ‘I’m more interested in answering my questions.’
‘You will have a drink,’ prince Rogozhin dismissed and rose to his feet. ‘This brandy is a rare delicacy. I
would not feel right if I did not share the experience…’
The prince walked to his cabinet and produced a crystal canister of the expensive liquor. He poured a glass and brought it back to her.
‘You will take it,’ he said, ‘trust me – it must be beheld to be truly understood.’
Before she had a chance to refuse, the prince handed her the glass and sat down beside her. He sipped his own drink and drew his deep eyes over her body.
‘Yes, what a shame it would be if you were forced to hide your body beneath a burka, no? You are a very beautiful woman Miss Campbell, you should flaunt it proudly…’
‘Prince Rogozhin,’ Jenny spoke, ‘I am a journalist. That is the capacity that I am most proud of.’
The prince reached out and placed his hand softly on her leg. Jenny went rigid at his touch, his fingertips sending electricity through her nerves and up towards her crotch. She tried her best to feign annoyance. This jerk was probably used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter and Jenny wasn’t going to let that happen to herself. Even if some part of her really, really wanted to…
She reached down and picked up his hand, plopping it back onto his own lap. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, please,’ she warned him.
The prince laughed. ‘Ahaha yes,’ he smiled, ‘you are a typical American Miss Campbell. So serious and directed, even when it stops you from fulfilling those things that you want most in life. Now, I went to the trouble of fixing you a drink – if you knew how much that one glass alone was worth you would not be so haughty. So drink…’
Before she knew what she was doing, Jenny had succumbed to the harsh, commanding tone of the prince’s voice. She brought the glass to her lips and drank. The liquid was strong and piquant, she winced as she swallowed and felt the warm burn in her chest.
‘It’s very nice,’ she said.
‘Oh come Miss Campbell, brandy is brandy. The real flavor is in the price. What price I wonder, would I have to pay for you?’
Jenny blinked. ‘Excuse me?’
Prince Rogozhin frowned. ‘A joke,’ he said, ‘after all the courtesy I have shown you, am I not entitled to that? Perhaps I should show you the door, hmm? Maybe I’ve had enough of humoring your American sense of self-entitlement…’
‘I… I’m sorry,’ Jenny said. All of a sudden she was having trouble thinking straight. ‘I know you didn’t have to see me today. Thank you.’
‘You are welcome,’ the prince said and then, without asking permission reached out behind her neck and pulled out her hair-clasp. Her scalp stung as he dragged her hair undone, her head jerking back as he pulled. Jenny sighed and a wave of heat rushed over her as her blonde hair spilled down her back. This was not how it was supposed to go, but suddenly she knew it with every searing nerve in her body – she wanted him to take her, to conquer her body with the same relentlessness with which he fought his wars.
‘You are perhaps not so different than any woman though, hhmm?’ prince Rogozhin asked. ‘When all’s said and done there are still certain things that you simply must have. Stand up. I would show you my quarters…’
On shaky legs Jenny stood and the prince joined her. He placed his hand gently against the small of her back and with his other took her by the wrist. Jenny could feel her pussy lips swell and moisten, she wanted to give herself over to him, submit completely.
She let the prince lead her to the end of the carriage and through a set of mahogany double doors. Inside was a bedroom, a huge king-sized bed draped in silk blankets and tiny cushions. The prince walked her over to the middle of the room and then turned her towards him. Jenny parted her mouth as the prince hungrily devoured her with his huge brown eyes. And then his mouth was on hers, plundering her soul as his tongue explored her mouth. He tasted of brandy and iron as he sucked her lips and tongue. He pulled back and Jenny whimpered with pleasure. Her panties were starting to get wet now as the froth seeped out, hungry for her master.
Prince Rogozhin pulled open her blazer sending the buttons flying across the room and her nipples stiffened like daggers of ecstasy, sticking up pert and hard, ready for his touch. As he pulled off her jacket she hurriedly undid the buttons of her shirt. Prince Rogozhin slipped his hands beneath the material and placed her hips in his palms. Jenny trembled as he ran his smooth hard hands around her stomach before moving up to her breasts and cupping them, one in each hand. He squeezed them together as he leaned forward for another passionate kiss.
‘So beautiful,’ the prince sighed, ‘if you lived in my country I would lock you up and throw away the key – make you mine forever…’
Jenny rocked her hips forward, feeling the throbbing bulge of his cock beneath his pants. It was huge, bigger than she’d ever had, and she thirsted to take it inside her. The prince pulled back her shirt and it fell to the ground before reaching around to her back to unclasp her bra. As her breasts spilled out, he leaned forward and placed his hot wet mouth over her nipple. Jenny groaned as he flicked and circled his tongue around the fleshy bullet, sending currents of pleasure down to her clit which ached for his touch.
In an instant the prince lifted her up and threw her back onto the bed, sending a cluster of pillows up into the air. Jenny squealed with delight as she landed.
Prince Rogozhin stood above her, watching her with predatory hunger as he slowly loosened his tie and took it off himself. He unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, unveiling a magnificent tableau of rigid muscular flesh. His pectorals were curled with thick, short brown hair and his toned stomach was bare save for a ladder of fur that slipped down beneath his trouser to the huge coil of power that throbbed below.
Jenny couldn’t help herself. With one hand stroking her breasts, she slipped her other beneath her skirt and rubbed at her mound and lips. Prince Rogozhin opened his belt and slowly unzipped his pants. Underneath he wore expensive grey briefs, filled completely with his bulging member. He stepped out of his trousers and moved quickly towards her, grabbing her legs behind the knees and pulling them up akimbo into the air. He bore down upon her like a wolf, burying his head beneath her skirt and drawing his rough masculine tongue up against her slit through the material of her soaking underwear. With a hungry growl he dug his teeth against her stomach and caught the hem in his mouth. In one rough moment he tore the flimsy material right off her, the line of the thong grinding against her crack with burning, ecstasy-inducing pain.
As her lips shuddered, he placed his mouth over her mound and drew his tongue teasingly around her bud. Jenny ran her hand through his soft brown hair and arched her hips up towards him, moaning with pleasure. As he flecked her clit with his tongue, prince Rogozhin ran his hand up her thigh, squeezing the flesh tightly before pausing at the bottom of her pussy lips. He ran his fingers softly against the slit, gathering a pod of moisture and slowly working her open with his touch.
Jenny trembled with ecstasy as he slipped his thick fingers inside, tapping and stroking the burning flesh. She clenched herself around him as he worked his way up against her pleasure spots. Her mind had fallen beneath an all-consuming thick white mist of pleasure. As the prince sucked her mound and worked his fingers deeper inside her, he brushed her asshole with his thumb, causing her to brace forward harder still.
‘Oh Jesus,’ she moaned, ‘fuck me. I need you to fuck me…’
Prince Rogozhin rose back up above her, his eyes locked intensely in hers and his chin glistening from her juices. With one hand still inside her, he reached down to his briefs and pulled them down around his iron thighs. His cock popped out and Jenny sighed with marvel at its size and girth. It must have been eight or nine inches and she would have been hard-pressed to wrap her fist all the way around it. A thick blue vein snaked its way up the shaft and joined the throbbing purple helmet. She craved it, needed to take it inside her, feel its force and power as it filled her completely.
Prince Rogozhin slipped his hand out of her hot pussy and wrapped it around his shaft. He moved forwards, lowering himself b
etween her legs and guiding the tip of his dick up to her lips. She tingled with electricity as he made first contact, drawing his thing slowly up and down against her crevice. With a grunt, the prince slid his head inside of her, her flesh burning as it pushed up against her passage, forcing her skin apart with an unbearable mixture of pleasure and pain.
She wasn’t sure she could take him and yet she hungered for it so intensely. But she did not have a choice anyway – one look in the prince’s burning eyes told her that he would fill her completely whether it was comfortable or not. Thrusting forward, his cock pushed deeper up inside her and the prince brought his weight down against her body. He pressed his pubic bone up against her mound, squeezing the nerves underneath into a cacophony of electric pleasure. Pulling her ass up towards him, the prince pushed up inside her, filling her completely now and driving her into a frenzy of lust and pleasure. He began to fuck her hard and fast, his huge dick slipping in and out with greater ease as he stretched and seared her flesh, making her body into a home for his sexual power.
Jenny had never been taken like this before in her life, her whole passage was swollen and filled, opened up now like never before. As their bodies rocked together in ecstatic, maddening passion, the prince kept his deep predatory eyes buried in her own, his jaw clenched with concentration and intensity. As she looked up at him, losing herself in those pools of darkness, she felt the climax approach. With a warbling howl, she thrust her hips up against him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling his mouth over hers. The pleasure exploded inside her. A nebulas flash of sparks and stars seared across her vision as her body trembled against him. At that moment, she felt the cum rise through his huge dick and burst out inside her, hot and warm. Panting, they slowed to a slow rock and finally stilled, the prince still inside her and their bodies pressed tightly together.
Prince Rogozhin slid out of her and she felt the cum drip out onto the soaking sheets between her legs.
‘Miss Campbell,’ he said, ‘his voice hoarse and drained, ‘I have some important phone calls to make…’
