Page 6 of The Prince and His Bodyguards
I whirl around on my friend.
“Okay, we’re definitely out of our league because I’ve never donethatbefore. But come on, let’s go downstairs. It’s clear our dark prince isn’t tying up women here.”
Slowly, we traipse down the stairs, shocked into silence for once. But the basement doesn’t yield anything (or anyone) promising either. Sure, there’s all sorts of furniture in the red room, including stocks, a spanking bench, a cross, several cages, as well as some contraptions that are unfamiliar to me. There are people enjoying themselves as well, and the moans and cries of men and women experiencing paradise rise and fall as ecstasy consumes them. But there’s no dark prince. There are no servants, doing his bidding. There’s no one who seems even remotely royal. There are just nubile, writhing women being taken by handsome, domineering men every which way.
“Mira, what do you think?” I whisper over my shoulder. “We may be out of luck tonight.”
But I’m talking to empty space because my friend’s no longer there.
“Mira?” I whisper. “Mira?” I ask again, more loudly this time.
That’s when some particularly loud panting hits my ears, and to my shock it’s my buddy lying prone on the spanking bench. She’s completely nude and her blonde curls are dangling forwards, hiding her pretty features. Meanwhile, a huge man with a hood over his face approaches her from the back before tapping his massive cock against her bottom hole.
“No lube?” he growls. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’m happy to use saliva even, if you want.”
“No, no,” Mira pants, her breasts heaving as her curves quiver. “I saw it upstairs and I want to try it. No lube. Just go in bare and raw, and make me feel it—eeee!”
With that, the huge man thrusts into her behind with his massive spear, making my friend jerk with surprise. She’s just gotten a bottom-full of satisfaction, it looks like, and sure enough, Mira lets out a ear-splitting wail while she’s reamed from behind. It looks like she would grab her ankles if she could, except she’s strapped down and unable to move, quivering while letting out a series of moans and pants.
“More!” she cries. “Put your cock deep into my dirty asshole!”
“Sure, honey,” the man growls from behind her. “Happy to oblige.”
It’s then that I turn away, my heart racing. What the hell? When did Mira get so rancid? But it seems that there are a lot of things that I don’t know about my buddy. Numb with shock, I turn away, determined to continue my quest for the mysterious prince. But somehow, I know I’m not going to find him because Club Z is keeping its secrets tonight … and I may be in over my head.
CHAPTER3
Ragnar
“So how are things holding up for you?” my brother asks from the phone screen. “Any success?”
I let out a snort at Haakon’s sarcastic question.
“No,” I say in a short voice. “The opposite. I’ve run through ten girls in the last couple months, and not one of them is up to standard.”
My brother shoots me a wry look.
“Why, what was wrong with them?”
I roll my eyes.
“Let’s see, where should I start? There was the woman who wanted to talk dirty, except she sounded like a babbling baby. There’s the woman who literally began to cry when she saw Mizhir and Rizza whip out their tools. Then, there’s the woman who was bleeding from her perineum after it was done, despite begging us to give her another chance.” I shake my head. “Obviously, there was no second chance. Mizhir gave her some cold compresses as well as the number of our private doc, and then she was shown the door.”
Haakon snorts, his blue eyes glinting.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound too promising. But you’re enjoying it, right?”
I shrug, looking off into the distance.
“I don’t know if “enjoy” is the right word. I mean, do I like tying up young women? Yes. Do I like watching them get fucked in the ass and cunt by my men? Yes. But have I found a woman who can take me? No.”
Haakon sighs, pulling at his goatee.
“It’s a problem, isn’t it? I mean, we have double dicks and not all ladies are up for that. Especially not the first time we’re with them,” he rasps.
I nod, thinking about the genetic mutation that my brother and I share. It’s something that runs in the Lysenian royal family, and it’s actually a dominant trait, not a recessive one. Basically, men in my family are born with two dicks. We have double-pronged swords that share a ball sack, and it’s weird when you first see it. I have a thick, girthy “front cock” that’s perfect for a woman’s pussy, and then a smaller “back cock” that feels especially good in her asshole. But it’s not what most women expect when they see our packages, plural, and more than one fair maiden has fainted at the sight.
But what cock isn’t weird-looking? If you ask me, a guy’s junk isn’t exactly the most aesthetically pleasing thing in the world. It’s all saggy balls, bulging veins, and a shaft that’s basically useless until it’s called into service. Having two doesn’t make it better either; it just makes things different.