by Alexis Angel
No, Nadia is not going to like Natalie. That's for damn sure.
"I've met Natalie Thomson before," I say, my eyes flashing. Natalie's wearing a tight black skirt and a blue silk blouse that's tight. I can see that she's dressed to impress. She's got stockings and black heels. A Tiffany's pendant glints off her neck.
She looks so fucking wholesome.
So innocent.
I can't wait until I have her begging on her knees to fuck her. Until my fucking 12-inch rod is piercing her and taking her to heights of pleasure that will ruin her forever to other fucking men.
Because, love, that's just what I do.
But I only want to do it to Natalie now. I know it sounds stupid, but that's why I gave her the fucking bullet.
Sure, it was a stupid game.
But I wanted to see if she would do it.
See love, she has to trust me that I'll use it judiciously.
Which means I can't just go push the button right now in front of everyone and have it start vibrating. That would just look very bad for Natalie who's supposed to be presenting.
So she's supposed to trust me doing that.
And I'm supposed to trust her that she did put the fucking bullet in. Because if I didn't trust her and wanted to check and see, then I'd give it a little buzz right now.
Sure, it wouldn't have any lasting impact. I could maybe even just give it a tap and if I'm lucky just see if she perks up. There's a small chance no one would be the wiser.
But then Natalie would know that she shouldn't have relied on me to keep my fucking word.
And trust me, love, when you've fucked as many broads as I have, the one thing you want to do more than anything else is be true to the one girl who ends up catching your fancy for as long as they do.
Don't eye me like that.
Natalie's a cool cat. But I don't fucking love her or anything yet.
I mean, for fuck's sake, I just met her recently.
But wait, she's already started talking about shit. Let's listen, okay?
"We believe that with a steady period of no press followed by an occasional positive press mention, we could start negating the effects of the Price's extracurricular hijinks within the space of 60 days," Natalie says, pointing to a couple PowerPoint slides that she's got displayed. "This would then follow a slowly increasing ramp up of positive press that would start to shift in focus from repairing his image and doing damage control more to rebuilding it in a positive fashion."
Fuck. This girl is smart at what she does, isn't she, love?
I look to my right. Nadia is nodding along. She's frowning, but she always frowns.
"In short, based on what you saw from our other departments today, we believe that within the next 90 days we can have a complete image makeover completed for Prince Connor," Natalie says.
Her manager is beaming and smiling. He gets up and shakes her hand.
I give a clap and Natalie jerks her head at me, giving me a nervous smile while her manager George gives me a nod.
Nadia remains quiet.
"I know we said questions over the day after this," George says, rubbing his hands together. "But you've been in this room for a long time. Why don't we take the meeting over to Oceana for dinner, and then Natalie, what are our post-dinner plans?" George asks, turning to Natalie.
"We have the Phantom of the Opera box seats if the Prince and his Press Officer wish to indulge," Natalie says evenly.
"Sounds fantastic," I say as Nadia scowls. George doesn't know what to make of the Hand of Death that's Nadia standing next to me, so the portly man just nods.
"Great!" he says, too enthusiastically. Let me grab my coat and we'll be on our way.
He opens the door for Nadia and she stalks out and he follows.
Fuck, I didn't realize it, but it's true. George, Natalie's boss, is clearly fixated on Nadia's ass.
He's following it with his fucking eyes.
Natalie is standing there in the conference room, looking at me.
Eventually she makes for the door as well.
Not so fucking fast, love.
I increase my pace and catch up to her and before she can cross the threshold, I put my arms on her shoulders and whisper into her ear.
"I told you that you could trust me, love," I whisper hoarsely into her ear. "Like I said, I didn't do anything while you were on the clock."
Natalie trembles slightly. I can tell she's excited.
"But now is when the fun starts, love," I whisper gently.
And I quickly lick her neck.
Then I let her go.
She's trembling with desire as she walks away. I can fucking tell.
This is going to be so much fucking fun tonight.
117
Natalie
Okay, I need to be honest with you, hun.
There's a part of me that was expecting Connor to begin zapping me with his remote the moment I stuck the bullet...up there.
Sure, I fiddle with it for a little bit throughout the day, but can you imagine just being laid out and exposed like that and not knowing when it's going to come?
It's like when you're blindfolded and tied up, and you don't know where your lover is going to get at you next. Are they gonna lick your nipples or put a finger inside of your pussy and wiggle it against your G-spot?
Just not knowing where the next stimulation is going to come from is enough to heighten your senses.
That's if you're blindfolded.
Now imagine having to carry on about your day with a bullet nestled right on your clit, knowing that it could start vibrating and sending sharp, shooting waves of pleasure across your body at any time.
Imagine having to go on about your day not knowing when that's going to happen.
Imagine being powerless to stop it and knowing that when the pleasure goes through you is dependent on the whims of a dominant alpha male who literally holds the key to your pussy in his pocket.
He literally has the power to make me cum with one push of a button.
I dunno, hun. Just working and living under this whole "I can get a pleasure shock anytime, even as I make these photocopies" is enough to leave me sopping wet pretty much throughout the day.
I mean, this is the most turned on I've ever been.
Connor doesn't even have to push the button it seems like. Just knowing that he can is enough to make me hyper sensitive to everything and I swear it would probably only take a light breeze or someone to blow on my clit gently and I'd be done for. I'm so keyed up and so wound into knots waiting for the first jolt that when it does come I'll probably just explode.
I swear, that's what it feels like, okay?
There are moments when I feel like Connor is just going to give up and start pushing the button.
Let's see...like the time I walked into the conference room.
I gotta admit, he looked so good in his dark suit as he looked at me that I almost wished he would start pushing the button.
But, no. That would probs be a very bad idea.
One, George would have perked his head and said something like, "Did anyone hear that?" as the bullet buzzed inside of me.
Of course my eyes would probably be rolled up into my head and I wouldn't be able to answer so he would look at me and say, "Natalie, are you okay?"
I would be so wet that I'd probably start dripping. George, the clueless manager would think I spilled something. "Natalie, looks like you spilled some soda," he'd say.
Oh my God.
He'd probably even smell me.
He'd start sniffing. "What is that smell?" he'd say and start going sniff sniff all the way around the room and start sniffing at my crotch like some dog.
OMG. No, it's a good thing Connor did nothing in the conference room.
But when I go to leave the conference room after my presentation, and he holds my arms and says, "I told you that you could trust me, love. Like I said, I didn't do anything while you were on the clock."
I t
remble and I'm ready to turn around and kiss him right there.
This man has so much power.
He has raw power, which he wields so beautifully.
He has the power to make me cum right now in the palm of his hand.
Most men would be so enamored of that power that they would be using it routinely.
But for Connor, the game is much more psychological. He wants me to revel in the fact that he has the power to do what he wants, not revel in the fact that he truly is doing whatever he wants.
It's all I can do to not tremble and fall. I want him so badly. It's so hard to stay standing away from him. It's so insane that I can't just bend over and let him stick his cock inside of me.
The most that I can think of doing is to push my ass back against that big, glorious cock. Let him feel my ass cheeks.
"But now is when the fun starts, love," he whispers in my ear.
And then he licks my neck.
A long, deep, lick where I can feel almost every inch of his tongue.
It massages my neck muscles, relaxing them and my eyes roll back into my head for real this time.
Connor's tongue is gone just as quickly as it came and I can't help it, but I need to act normal. I stumble and tremble as I walk back to my cubicle and sit down at my desk, my heart beating a mile a minute.
***
Dinner is a similar affair. It's mainly George doing his closing sales pitch with Connor as press officer.
I think her name is Nadia Scow and she's certainly giving George a run for his money. The two of them are going over variable compensation claims and trying to hash out the contract right at the table.
Usually I'm fascinated by this minutiae, but right now, all I can do is wonder if I'm going to get zapped anytime soon.
Connor looks at me with those soulful eyes and gives me a smirk. I can tell that he's enjoying this immensely.
Just wait until I get him back.
And, don't worry, hun.
There will be turnabout for this. I promise you.
Thankfully, George and Nadia almost seem to pay us no attention at all as they go through the contract and terms of service.
After dinner we walk to the Lincoln Center, which is only a few blocks away and get our seats for Phantom of the Opera.
"Why don't you two kids sit in the first balcony box?" George says to Connor and I. "I'll sit with Nadia on the second one and we can go over services."
The way the opera seats are set up is that Connor and I are sitting in a balcony box overlooking the stage. We're not sharing it with anyone else and unless the audience makes a conscious effort to, they won't see us.
I can tell, it's coming now.
Connor's eyes are twinkling.
I brace myself. I know it's coming...
118
Connor
I grab the remote in my pocket, waiting for the perfect moment.
Of course, if I could take her right here and right now, that’s what I would do. But we’re in a fucking opera house, sitting in a booth close to the one Natalie’s boss and the Royal Secretary have chosen - not exactly the most appropriate place, you know? But there’s something that I can do... We’re going to have some fun, don’t doubt it.
The opera house is completely packed, but thankfully the show is about to start. When the media found out that I was going to attend the opera, there was already a crowd at the door, much to the chagrin of the New Yorkers whose main interest was the opera and not the antics of European royalty.. Women called my name, waving at me and whistling. One woman even lifted her shirt over her head, baring her breasts at me, my name written in red ink all over her tits. It was flattering, but in that moment I couldn’t care less for it, no matter how voluptuous those tits might be.
Thankfully, that circus is over now. We’re sitting in a private booth, the lights have gone out and someone’s pulling the stage drapes to the side.
“It’s going to start,” Natalie whispers, and I smile at her. Oh, yeah, it’s going to start alright.
A lone woman wearing a corset, her face powdered in white, steps into the stage as the spotlight falls on her. She opens her mouth, the first musical notes exploding into the air as the orchestra starts to play... and that’s when I press the button on the remote. Natalie presses her legs together in a rush, her face showing complete surprise. She looks at me with a what the hell are you doing? expression. I shrug, telling her without words that I’m just making you have some fun. Good Lord, are we going to be one of these couples that never speak and only communicate telepathically?
She looks exasperated and so I do the next logical thing: I press the remote once more, making her twitch and widen her eyes at me with a threat implied there. I simply grin and squeeze her hand in mine. “This place is crowded. Act naturally,” I whisper, making her bite her lower lip in that endearing expression of hers.
“Connor, this is crazy!” She says, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips.
“I know, right?” I smile back at her. “Get used to it… I’m known to be somewhat crazy,” and with that I press the remote once more. She jumps in place, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a second.
“I’ll show you…” she whispers at me. “Do your worst.”
“Oh, I will. You’re in for quite a ride, love.”
She puts on her best smile and focuses on the stage, a few more women in corsets flanking what seems to be the leading lady. Oh, I’m in for some fun. I take the remote out of my pocket and turn the intensity to Low, pressing down on the button and not letting go. I can see her smile wavering, but then it comes back as strong as ever. Her legs are closed shut, though, and I can’t help but notice that she’s squirming in her seat.
I take my finger off the button but, the moment I see her relax, I press it immediately. She almost jumps up, but manages to hold it together.
“You’re completely insane…” She mutters under her breath, a note of delight in her voice. She’s right about it, I’m utter and completely mad… for her. I know, that might sound lame and just plain boring, but it's the truth. Besides, I don’t think that having her insert a remote controlled vibrator bullet inside her pussy classifies as boring, so I think I’m safe in that department.
She’s holding up quite nicely, so I decide to up the ante, turning the intensity to medium. She crosses her legs even though it isn’t really comfortable to do so in these seats, and I take it as a sign that she’s really starting to feel it.
“So, how are you holding up, love?” I ask with a smirk.
“Connor…” She says under her breath. “If I weren’t so wet right now, I’d totally kill you.”
“Wet, uh? I like that,” I make the like roll over my tongue slowly, the vowels coming drawled and heavy out of my mouth. Just knowing she’s wet is enough for me to feel my cock twitching inside my pants. Soon enough I’m going to be sporting a massive hard on..
“I could jump on you right now, Connor… Take this thing off of me and let’s just go home.”
“You know we can’t do that, love. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“I hate you so much right --” I press the button, stopping her from finishing her sentence as she has to bite at her lip to stop from moaning. “Oh God…” She looks toward the stage with a blank look on her face, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she taps her foot furiously against the floor. Gritting her teeth, she balls her hands into fists, her fingers trembling ever so slightly - which tells me she has just came.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Connor…” She whispers between gritted teeth, the smile still on her face. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
“I know, love. But this is all we have now,” I say, pressing the button once more and making her close her eyes for a whole second. Regaining her composure, her smile comes back and she tries to feign a look of concentration. I can tell she has no idea what’s happening on the stage. Inside my pants my cock is growing harder a
nd harder,
each time I look at Natalie making my heart punch hard against my ribcage. I can see the pleasure that flickers behind her eyes, and I just love it. What’s better in life than to see a woman like her drowning in pleasure at your hands? Few things, I’d say.
“Connor, don’t you let you go of that button,” she mutters, uncrossing her legs and placing her hand over her mouth. Her breathing grows ragged by the second, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Don’t let go.”
I glance quickly at the upper row, confirming that both her boss and the Royal Secretary are paying attention to the opera and not to us, and then do as she tells me, making the bullet vibrate inside her pussy with no break. I notice her kicking against the balcony railing and biting hard at her lower lip, whispering something under her breath. I give her my hand and she squeezes it hard, her fingernails burying themselves into me. She has just came again.
Well, this is rather fun, I think, turning up the intensity to a challenging High. I can already see her sliding down her seat, her hand twisting as I figure she wants nothing more than to rest one finger over her clit and rub it out. I would gladly do it for her if I could - screw that, I’d do a whole lot more than that if I wasn’t stuck in the middle of an opera house surrounded by hundreds of people, most of them anxious to see what crazy stunt the infamous Prince of St. Albans will pull this time.
Sometimes I wish I was a commoner - at least that way nobody would care if I just went berserk and fucked her right here on the booth. Alright, some people would care, but at least I wouldn’t make headlines in every fucking news station around the whole globe. Right now I prefer a “Is the Prince maturing?” news title over the old “Connor does it again!” headline the newspapers love to go with, so I stay put. I wonder what they would make of it if they learned Natalie, the woman in charge of my “maturing process”, is cumming her brains out with a vibrator inside her pussy as we watch the opera - now that would be a funny piece to read.
“Oh my God… I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she tells me, rubbing her hand against her knee. It amuses me to no end to know that what she really wants is to press her hand against her pussy, but she simply can’t . Seeing her like this makes my cock turn as hard as stone, straining against my boxer briefs and trousers and aching for release.