“Thanks for seeing me, Rebecca,” says Miss Witherbottom, in her normal very formal manner. “Take a seat, please.”
“What’s this about?” I say. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“I was just hoping you could explain this to me,” she says, handing me a very thick an expensive-feeling piece of paper. On her desk is an elaborate looking card with some kind of purple and gold crest on it. It looks like something out of the middle ages, when kings would send messengers with similar documents, emblazoned with the royal seal.
The royal seal…something’s ringing a bell. Oh, how stupid of me! It’s the initiation from Luke!
Somehow, I was imagining something like a phone call or an email. I didn’t ever imagine it would be something so fucking elaborate. I also didn’t expect Luke to work so quickly. I only emailed him last night, after all.
“This arrived this morning by private messenger,” she says, giving me a weird look that I can’t quite place.
“Oh…” I say, completely unsure what I should say.
“Is this for real?”
I nod.
I’m waiting for her stern face to break into a grotesque mask of anger, waiting for her to scream at me for wasting her time with something like this. Why’d I ever think this would work? There’s no way she’s going to let me leave the office to go gallivanting around Liseria for who knows how long.
Instead, to my incredible surprise, her face breaks into a smile. A smile like I’ve never seen her wear.
“How exciting!” she says. “I’ve always loved reading about the Liserians.”
Liserians…wow, I had no idea they were even called that.
“You must be so excited about finally visiting the palace,” she says. “I actually went there in my youth, on a tour of Europe, and it was just utterly magnificent.”
“That’s great,” I say, trying to smile, but I’m still in shock at her reaction. “The only thing is that I wasn’t sure about work, you know. I mean, I’ll have to take off a couple weeks from work at the very least, and I know I don’t have any more vacation days for the years. The thing is I really need this job, but I also would really like to check out the palace…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that at all, dear,” says Miss Witherbottom, with a wave of her hand. “I’ll see to it that everything’s taken care of. Now, you must tell me how you met this wonderful prince. That is who you’re going to visit, isn’t it? Oh, how marvelously exciting. We’re going to have or own royal lady in the office in no time at all.”
Wow, first of all, she thinks that if I did marry into the royal family, I’d still be working at this dump. I try not to let these thoughts show in the least bit on my face. Instead, I’m keeping it frozen in a nervous smile that I hope is passing for royal excitement.
In the end, I make it through the meeting, telling her all about Prince Lucas, as she likes to call him. Well, not everything, obviously. I try to leave out the parts about the wild sex out in the wilderness, or the wild sex in the RV—basically I leave out all the wild, lustful sex.
But despite how uncomfortable her enthusiasm makes me, I walk out of her office beaming inwardly.
I’m going to Liseria! To see Luke! The first thing I’m going to do when I get there is ride him like a fucking cowgirl, really fuck his brains out. Wow, my mind’s really heading to some dirty places, and very quickly.
All I have to do now is contact Luke and wait for Eugene to send me the information on how to catch the private plane to Liseria.
13.
Luke
“Good to be back, eh, sir?” says Eugene, to me in French.
“Let’s stick with English, buddy,” I say. “I don’t want us to get sloppy with out language skills that we worked so hard to achieve.”
Eugene nods curtly at me.
A line of elaborately dressed Liserian royal guards is waiting for us on the runway, as Eugene and I walk down the stairway from the plane.
They’re all saluting, frozen completely motionless, staring straight ahead as if they’re rag dolls. Why can’t they just lighten up a little? Fuck, I’m glad I never joined the military like my dad wanted me to. I would have just been like one of these suckers here.
“Your royal highness, sir,” says a lieutenant, judging by his uniform, coming out of nowhere and saluting me. “I have orders to take you directly to the king for a private appointment.”
“Great,” I say. “And what if I don’t want to go? I’m tired, you know. Just explored an entire continent with Eugene here.”
“Sir, the orders are mandatory, sir,” barks the guard, his back perfectly straight, staring straight ahead at me. I look into his eyes and I don’t see anything there.
Shit, now I remember why I’d wanted to get the fuck out of Liseria so badly. Sure, there are some parties and good times here once in a while, but everyone’s so uptight all the time that the chances for fun are few and far between, even for a prince.
There’s no point in running away or trying to disobey the orders. Trust me, I know. I’ve done that plenty of times, and it often ended in what felt like half the military chasing me. They always caught me. Well, except that one time I escaped to France hiding as a stowaway on a tugboat. That wasn’t too fun, though, and by the end of the trip I fucking stunk like nothing else. And they caught me at the dock in France.
“Fine,” I say. “Come on, Eugene.”
Eugene doesn’t need to be told twice. I know he’d advise me to just go along with it. Sometimes I wonder who’s fucking side he’s on. He’s supposed to be my advisor, but he also technically just works for my dad, and I always wonder how much the two talk, and how much Eugene reports. Hopefully he at least has the common sense not to give the gritty details of my daily life, especially not my recent American life.
We drive down the palace’s long, supposedly impressive drive, and up to the castle with the towers overhead, tall ramparts, metal gates, and even it’s own fucking moat. I’ve seen the whole thing so many times that it bores me to fucking tears, and I just hang my head in absolute boredom, not to mention dread for what’s about to come.
There are more guards at the palace, brightly dressed in their ridiculous costumes. There are also straight military guys, wearing modern style camo fatigues, holding automatic riffles, standing at attention.
My dad’s study has huge wooden doors made out of some rare wood that I’ve heard him brag about countless times, but I’ve never even remembered the name of the wood. I could care less.
“Sit down,” says my dad, his face stony as he stares at me from behind his massive desk.
No, “hey, son, how are you?” Just a commanding order and an expressionless face.
“How’s it going?” I say, in English, just to annoy him.
“You will speak Liserian French in this palace or nothing else, at least while I’m alive.”
“OK,” I say, in French.
“What was that?”
I know there’s no point in continuing. He’s not going to let it go until I say “yes, sir,” the way he wants.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“I don’t even know where to begin with you,” he says. “I always knew you were a trouble maker, but I thought you at least had respect for the crown and the royalty of Liseria. I thought you cared about your country, unlike your brother. But now, it seems like you’re even worse than he is!”
My older brother, Benjamin, famously renounced his Liserian royal status to become a professional farmer. It made my dad more than mad. They still haven’t spoken one word to each other in ten years. For a while, I could fuck up almost as much as I wanted, and I still wasn’t as bad as my brother Benjamin. To me, Ben’s all right. I like to hang out on the farm and chill with him once in a while, although he’s pretty busy these days with three kids and a wife, not to mention a farm to run.
My father’s wearing his ridiculous crown that sits on his head like a dead d
ecorative bird. It’s got the fucking Liserian crest on it and everything. How fucking stupid. Doesn’t he realize it’s horribly outdated? Doesn’t he realize he looks like a fool.
He throws a huge stack of American magazines at me, hurling them at me one by one, the pages flapping in the air.
“And these, too,” he says, pulling out a stack of Liserian and European publications, and hurling these at me too.
I just sit here, trying to not to move as he hurls them at my face. They don’t hurt much, in reality. Hell, he can throw magazines at me all day if this is the worst he can come up with.
“I don’t even know what to do with you,” he barks at me.
“Good,” I say.
“What was that?”
“Yes, sir,” I say.
He crosses his arms and huffs, letting out a huge sigh of air.
“There’s a ball in a couple days,” he says. “Belinda will be there, and I expect her to be your date.”
“Oh,” I say. “I’d forgotten about that, sir. The thing is, I have a guest coming into the country.”
“You have a what?”
“A guest. You know, a chick. A girl. A woman. She’s coming to visit me from America. I met her in Texas. And I thought maybe I could take her to the ball.”
“You’re not going to be taking some trashy American hussy to our annual Liserian ball! This is a centuries old tradition, and I won’t have you throwing another spectacle for the magazines.”
“She’s not a hussy, sir,” I say.
“What was that?” He’s looking so full of rage that his face is turning red like it might pop like a cherry.
“She’s no hussy,” I say, in English.
“French!” screams my dad. My dad, the fucking King of Liseria. God, I’ll be the King of Liseria some day. Well, at least I’ll be able to change some fucking things around here. For one thing, I’ll let people speak whatever fucking language they want in the palace. I used to have to leave the palace grounds as a kid in order to take foreign language lessons with my private tutors. On one hand, my dad recognized that a royal should speak many languages, and he’s fluent in a shitload of them himself, but on the other hand there’s been an ages old rule that says that only Liserian French will be spoken in the palace. I said it in English just to piss him off more, I guess. I have a knack for doing that.
“Look,” I say. “Sir, the thing is she’s already invited. She’s got the official letter from Liseria and everything. An official invitation. It wouldn’t look good if we pulled that back now.”
“She has an official invitation? Who approved this?” He looks even closer to popping now than ever before.
I shrug my shoulders casually. “Dunno. Eugene set it up with some of your guys I guess.”
“Well,” says my dad, adjusting his ridiculous Liserian crown. “No, we can’t revoke an invitation. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to be your date for the ball. I’ve already set everything up with Belinda.”
Fucking Belinda. Why does she want my royal cock so much? She’s never even so much as seen it. It’s just he idea of pushing out a string of royal Liserian babies that has her so wet…she wants to become a princess and to tuck me into bed every night once I’m the crowned prince of Liseria.
“Why can’t she be my date? Screw Belinda.”
“That’s final,” says my dad, pounding his fist against his wooden desk. “You’re excused now.”
There’s no use trying to reason with him. Whatever, its not like I care about the fucking ball anyway. I’ll worry about that day when I come to it Maybe I’ll just skip it or something.
I spend an hour being given some official Liserian briefings on the current political situation, not to mention the summary on the fallout from my ‘activities’ in American. It bores me half to tears, but Eugene, at my side, acts like he’s hanging on every word.
When it’s finally over, I lean over to Eugene and ask him if he wants to get out of here to go hunting.
“Of course, sir,” says Eugene.
We head out to the stables where the horses are kept and I find my favorite, a jet-black hunting horse named Stallion. I hop on easily—I’ve been riding since I was a kid, and Eugene gets another one.
We never actually hunt. When I was a teenager, it used to be just a way to escape from the confines of the palace and head into the woods. I usually had a backpack full of beers, not to mention a couple joints, with me. Eugene would never partake himself, but he’d be cool enough not to report such minor indiscretions.
We’re galloping along through the woods.
“You excited about Miss Rebecca coming to visit?” says Eugene.
“You know, Eugene,” I say, as we’re now trotting alongside a little creek that twists its way through the dense Liserian forest, the sunlight streaming down through the branches. “I think there’s something special about this one. I’ve never felt this way about any other girl.”
“I can see it in your eyes, sir.”
“Thanks for the idea about the official invitation, Eugene,” I say.
Eugene blushes a deep red.
We spend the rest of the afternoon riding mostly in silence, and I find myself appreciating the natural beauty in a way I never have before. Maybe it’s all that stuff Rebecca was telling me about…learning to see things in a different way.
I don’t know what it is exactly, but ever since meeting her I’ve felt like I’m changing in some indefinable way. Well, for one thing, I’m not rushing out to bang the first hot piece of Liserian ass I can find, and trust me there’s plenty who are just dying for my princely Liserian dick. But the thought hasn’t even crossed my mind. All I can think about is Rebecca, and tonight when I’m lying in bed with my usual nightly erection, I close my eyes and picture her naked.
I’m not normally the type to jerk off—I’ve always had women eager to take care of my every sexual need, but I just can’t help myself.
I picture her kneeling before me, her beautiful head bending down towards my crotch. I move my hand slowly along my shaft, stroking it. Fuck, am I horny.
I’ve got my laptop computer open beside me on the nightstand, but porn doesn’t even cross my mind.
But just as I’m starting to stroke faster, really starting to go to town on myself, meanwhile thinking of Rebecca buck ass naked in the Texan woods, her body gleaming in the sunlight, her tits just fucking perfect—the online messenger starts beeping at me.
“What the fuck?” I snarl at no one. After all, I’m alone in my luxurious high-ceilinged royal palace bedroom.
“What’s going on?” says a little message that pops up on the screen. Fuck, yes, it’s Rebecca.
“Not much,” I write, with one hand, my other still on my cock, but frozen. My erection doesn’t abate in the slightest.
“You want to chat?” says the text message. “Video chat?”
“Sure,” I type back.
I smile to myself as I carefully arrange the computer so that the camera’s facing my erect swollen cock. This is going to give her quite the surprise, hopefully.
A picture of her face shows up on the computer as it starts ringing.
14.
Rebecca
The computer is ringing for a moment before the image starts to appear on my computer scree. We don’t have fast internet at the apartment, so it takes a moment for the image to load.
When it finally does, I burst out laughing in complete shock.
It’s not Luke’s face like I was expecting, but instead it’s his cock, swollen and erect, looking completely massive on my screen.
“What the fuck?” I say, laughing.
“You like it?” he says, turning the computer back to his face. He’s grinning wildly, obviously really please with himself.
“I guess I interrupted you,” I say. “Do you want some time to finish?”
“What? No. I was thinking about you.”
“Really? T
hat’s really…hot.”
And it is. The thought of him back in his Liserian palace jerking off to me is kind of hot. I guess I really turn him on. Despite my earlier intentions of just talking to him, I find my hand worming towards my breast, and cupping the bottom of it.
“Looks like I’m turning you on a little,” says Luke. “I’ve been known to have that effect on women.”
“A lot of women, from the sound of it.”
“So you saw the magazines?”
I nod.
“You upset about it? I mean I don’t have the best reputation, you know.”
“I’m not upset, really,” I say. “But I’m a little worried.” This is the truth, so why not tell it?
“Well, you’re the only woman I can even think about now.”
“So you weren’t jerking off to some hot Liserian porn?” I’m trying to contain my smile and giggle.
“Eww,” he says, making an overly exaggerated face. “Liserian porn…that just sounds fucking terrible.”
“I laugh.”
“But no, I was just thinking about you. I was thinking about you naked in the woods.”
“Naked in the Texas wilderness getting fucked by you?”
He nods, smiling a semi-wicked looking smile.
“So you want to have some fun?” he says, and he repositions the computer so that I can see his cock and his face. He’s grinning.
I nod my head a little shyly.
“Take off your shirt then,” he says.
“I like the way you’re telling me what to do,” I say, and take off my shirt. I grasp my breasts in my bra and squeeze them together.
Luke has been stroking his cock ever so slowly, but now he speeds up a little, and I watch as his fist comes up around the head of his cock, which is dripping with his precum.
“You’re so hot,” he says, lying all the way back, with his head tilted towards my image on his computer screen.
“It’s funny to think about you doing this in that big luxurious palace.”
“You looked up pictures or something? I remember telling you it was a pile of old rocks.”
Filthy Royal Page 9
