My Little Ventrue Pt. 04 Ch. 02

"Indeed." Antoinette walked over to the symbol on the floor where she performed her experiments, and stared at it. Apparently her mind was wandering, probably devouring some of the experiments they'd been doing in trying to summon different things. A few minor successes, summoning a few things that had as much intelligence as an insect. Nothing as profound as Safe.

"... d... d-did you really... have that many men... cum all over you?" The image was too vivid to just drop it.

The Prince burst into a loud laugh, and winked at Natasha before she returned to her analyzing of the summoning circle. "I did indeed."

"But that was so long ago! How... d-do you remember something from back then?" Careful. Elders did not like admitting to their bad memories.

"It is true the memory is nothing more than a haze, but I quickly realized the value of journals when I was younger. I detailed such sexual exploration, and took note of many things." She stepped over the circle, and analyzed it from the other side, fingers on her chin. "Perhaps you would prefer a more recent memory?"

"Recent? L... like..." Oh, Jack. She was talking about Jack. "I... um, that's personal, right? You can—"

"Natasha, I know that you and that mongrel Jessy are close friends, and she has the tact of a grenade. If you would like to talk sex, then please, ask me. It is a passion of mine."

Sex was a passion of the Prince's? Well, she was Daeva, but with her age, Natasha continued to have the impression that her boss didn't care for sex like younger Kindred. She knew that wasn't true, but she'd dealt with Maria for so long, it was hard to shake the idea.

"I, I uh... um..." Awkward, so awkward. But then it was Natasha making it awkward. Jessy never felt awkward, and Antoinette was literally ten times older than Jessy. Making her feel ashamed, embarrassed, awkward, was impossible.

"Personally," the Prince said, "I prefer to have multiple women in the bed, with the one man. It is such fun to tease the man, to hang him on the edge of bliss, before the insurmountable size of three women's sex drive combined crush him." She came back over to the table, sat down, and took a few more hidden notes on her tablet. "With you, I imagine it must be quite different. Two wolves, aggressive animals, large, and tiny you?" With a twinkle in her eye, the Prince leaned in, set her elbows on the table, and netted her fingers together for her chin to rest on. "Delicious."

First Jessy, now Antoinette. But at least with Antoinette, she didn't feel like she was talking to a teenager in an adult's body. Antoinette was a real, mature woman, who could say a word like penis without laughing, and could describe sexual acts in extreme detail without ever breaking eye contact, apparently.

"They... they uh... sort... p-pinned me d-d-down... on the bed. And um, they both took me... same time... one in front of me... one behind me." How would her boss react to that level of sexual admittance?

"Pinned?"

"Oh! Um, no no, I had a safe word, and it w-was... weirdly romantic? Cause they were kissing me, and t-touching me, and then... fucking me, at the same time, and they were gentle! Gentle, and nice... b-but also... aggressive and... hungry."

"That sounds utterly rapturous." Antoinette sighed, a long, calming sort, and let her eyes drift upward in some memory Natasha could not fathom. "I have forever been the mightier of my bedfellows. I do not know what it is to be in danger from the strength of whoever shares my touch. I envy you. It must have been intoxicating, little you, to be surrounded by such muscle, raw strength, blood and life capable of tearing you limb from limb, yet only concerned with two things: pleasuring you, and relieving themselves within your awaiting depths."

Yeap. That was it. That was what was making Natasha's head spin every time she remembered that night. The feeling of being trapped and helpless and even in danger, and yet knowing the two who could easily kill her, wanted only to fuck her into a helpless mess, was overwhelming and intoxicating.

"It was... it w-was really good."

"It must have been! In my own experimentations, I have found that I could never quite truly enjoy anal penetration, to my dismay." The Prince shrugged, lowered her hands, and leaned back in her chair again so she could start combing her hair once more. "Of course, to each their own. And I must admit, the thought of you trapped between those two beasts is a very pleasing thought, Miss Vola. You are a beautiful little creature, and the juxtaposition of their size against yours, is a magnificently erotic image."

"Th-Thank you." Natasha smiled, even beamed with pride, and nodded a few times. The way the Prince described things made them feel so empowering, so delightful, so amazing. Not like Jessy who practically made her feel guilty; course her friend was only teasing her, but still. "You have such a b-beautiful way with words."

"Thank you," she said in return, smiling a warm smile Natasha found quite rare on her master's face. "As I said, sexuality is a passion of mine, and I am morose for not having a fellow Kindred to speak of such things with anymore. Would you care to indulge me?"

"Indulge, P-Prince?"

"Share with me details of your exploits, and I will share with you mine. Your relationship with the two Uratha is unique, and one I could not hope to experience on my own. Through your words, I may gain a taste of that experience. And I do hope you will enjoy my own tales."

Girl talk! Except, not the sort of girl talk with Jessy where it was all chuckles and teasing and dirty gossip. Antoinette actually seemed to approach the topic with the heart of an artist, looking to find the joy and eroticism in the words. And that, Natasha could definitely agree to.

"Ok."

"Wonderful." Antoinette made another sigh, another smile, and let her gaze drift upward as she combed her hair over her chest. "But only a week ago, perhaps a day more, I was lying back in the arms of one of my ghouls, my precious Ashley. Jack sat upon my waist, leaning forward, shaft buried in my breasts. Ashley took me into her hands, and used my breasts to massage Jack's length, until his white fluid coated me." Another sigh! The third sigh sealed it; it was her dreamy sigh. This was the noise the Prince made when she was swooning. "The look of sheer, total, overwhelming sexual bliss on Jack's face was enough to make my knees weak. And of course, to my ever delight, the feel of fingers massaging his warmth into my skin was lovely."

Well, that was an image Natasha was never going to get out of her head. And yet, with how elegantly the Prince described it, she was more than happy to keep the image. Jack was a very attractive little man, and the scene Antoinette described was pretty amazing, if not exactly Natasha's cup of tea. Perhaps that's what these exchanges were all about?

"Jack m-must have really enjoyed that."

"Oh, the boy is obsessed with my breasts." Antoinette chuckled, and shrugged as she looked down at her fingers, and where they mingled with her hair. "And I adore him for it. He has brought me to near climax through my breasts alone, ever doting on them, massaging, caressing, kissing, suckling. Sometimes, I will simply lie there, and let him feast upon my breasts. It will take him twenty, perhaps thirty minutes before he at last feels the need to move on, and by then, a touch of his breath on my neck is enough to bring me to orgasm."

And not at a single point in any of this vivid describing did Antoinette even blink. Not for jadedness though; if anything she looked head over heels in love, and swooned a fourth time.

"But, please," Antoinette said, "this is supposed to be an exchange. Regale me with a tale, Miss Vola, of what your two beasts have done to you?"

Natasha gulped, peeked left and right like someone might be spying on them, and leaned forward. "The... d-day after our first... time, they..." She almost squealed, and buried her face in her palms as she shook her head. "Had their tongues... between my legs. B-B-Both of them did."

"Your new lovers sound quite comfortable with each other and your body."

"T-Too comfortable! It was... I mean, it was... really good, just..."

"Natasha, you are Kindred, and have been for five decades. You have no reason to be embarrassed by your body, or reason to worry for the hygiene issues of the living. Your lovers seem delighted to indulge you such salacious acts; embrace it. You will be happier for it."

Embracing it wasn't so easy when she had a couple lifetimes of antisocial behavior to fight, and one of those lifetimes included bodily functions that would deter someone from sticking their tongue in such places! But, like Jessy said, she hadn't had a period or bowel movement in half a century, so feeling self conscious about things like that was stupid.

"I did... did um... really enjoy it. And then they... lifted me up, and both had me again. But this time... it was standing up. My toes c-couldn't reach the floor." And by the time they were done, their cum had dripped down her legs to her knees, and her own had reached her ankles. But she couldn't say that! Too much, way too much. For now.

"Truly delicious." Another sigh, another smile. "Enjoy it while you can, little Mekhet. Such joys make our second lives worth living."

"... uh, and—"

"And do not fret. Our tales are secret between you and I."

Mind reader.

"Thank you... f-for being... I d-d-don't know, more mature about this than Jessy. I love Jessy, b-but she... I could never talk about this in so much detail! She... can't take anything seriously."

"I understand, Miss Vola, quite well at that." She leaned in to match Natasha's posture, like the two should have been whispering when they weren't. "You are not Jessy Herrington. Jokes and teasing are not how one such as yourself would prefer to discuss such delicate matters."

"E-Exactly!" Getting exposed to this new side of the Prince was doing wonders for Natasha's comfort. Always she thought of the Prince as some sort of deity, and always it came back to Antoinette being very much a woman. A confident woman, intelligent and self aware and all the things Natasha wanted to be.

A friend, maybe? The Prince seemed to like the idea, at least.

"If I may make a suggestion, my apprentice? One for the bedroom. And please, request that I cease if this conversation proves too personal for your liking."

"N-No! Please, go ahead." Sex tips from a half-millennia-old Daeva were bound to be good.

"I suspect that you keep rather girlish, cute things in your possession, yes? Stuffed animals, bright clothes with butterflies, similar things, and I suspect that you spend much of your time attempting to convince yourself that these are childish things? Instead of placing your animals upon your bed, you threw them away, and the few you keep you hide in your closet. Instead of embracing colorful thigh high socks, you force yourself to wear only regular white socks, and would never be caught shopping for such juvenile clothes. At war with your intelligence, you convince yourself to pursue cold efficiency in everything, despite a secret want to play with brighter colors, to experiment with different hair styles, to... wear pink."

She blinked at the Prince. Blinked, and blinked a few more times. Did she know about her stuffed animals she hid in her closet? Her pink journal she kept hidden in a secret drawer?

"I—"

The Prince put up a hand, and offered Natasha a gentle smile. "You are a clever, brilliant woman, Natasha. But like Daniel, I see that you deny yourself much of what you consider juvenile, when in fact, it is these things that give you both such unique and compelling personalities." The Prince raised a hand to her lip, eyes looking down as she vanished in thought for a moment. "... come with me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deeper into the Prince's tower the two walked. Natasha had never walked these stairs, spreading out with flourishing designs that opened into entirely new depths, with black or white marble dragons on stands, and similarly shaped etchings in the black marble that the Prince loved so much. This tower was huge. Was it twenty floors deep, or maybe even thirty?

Antoinette stepped into a hallway, and Natasha scampered after her, though her eyes continued to drink in the sights. One of the rooms had a pool! A full sized pool, with a hot tub beside it. Another room was filled with mirrors and all sorts of colored drapes. One of the rooms was filled with metal, locked crates, that Natasha could only assume was either filled with gold bars, or dangerous occult objects.

Another room's purpose was blatant, and Natasha stared at it as Antoinette brought her into its walls. Clothes. There were clothes everywhere, hanging from hundreds, thousands of hangers. Wardrobes too, many open with all sorts of clothes inside. But they couldn't have belonged to the Prince, they were far too small for her, and much of the clothes came in colors like aqua, pink, lime, violet, and a dozen shades and variations for each.

"... Ashley and Julee's clothes?"

"Oui. They are taller than you, but the clothes will serve well enough to demonstrate." She reached into one of the wardrobes, and plucked from it a set of socks. Pink socks that went up to the thigh, and had little white flowers on them. "These to you, are silly, cute things, non?"

"I uh... I d-do... yeah." Wearing something that ridiculous would make her die of embarrassment. But the color was appealing, the design was appealing, and she knew it was scratching that guilty pleasure part of her.

"And you, once tasked with the horrible burden of being Maria Turio's servant, along with being the sheriff's childe, must have thought such things were not to be worn by one in your position? Believed that you needed to prove yourself, due to your small size, that you were mature and reliable?"

"... y... yeah." It was true, much as she hated to admit it.

"Then you are a fool."

Natasha lowered her head, and sighed. Ouch.

The Prince came up to her, and poked her once in the forehead. "While you performed business for the Invictus, and while performing business for me, a certain presentation is expected. But when time is yours, when you are free to be yourself? Please, embrace your guilty pleasures, Natasha Vola. I suspect it will not only make you a happier individual, but your new lovers as well."

"Art and Matt? Why—"

"I suspect they are attracted to the qualities in you that escape your pitiful attempts to hide them." Ouch. Again. Her new friend was proving to be real mean. But the Prince sighed again, and pat her on the shoulder. "This is a good thing, Natasha. It means you can indulge yourself in their presence. And, I suspect, if these two massive, deadly predators ever found their little Red Riding Hood wearing naught but red thigh high socks, and silk boy shorts of the same color, they would utterly ravage you."

Ravage her. She squirmed, but raised her head as a smile forced its way onto her lips. "R... Ravage?"

"Oh yes. Perhaps if also wearing a petit red tank top, the two men would be slaves to their own desires. They would pin you down, force themselves upon your tiny, wriggling body, and devour you many times, until you were a mess of exhaustion, sweat, and pleasure. And only then would they both take you between them, penetrate you, fill you, and fuck your weakened body until they were satisfied."

Good god this woman! No idea, Natasha had no idea Antoinette had this sort of side to her. Dominatrix? Sure. Queenly and confident? Obviously. Motherly and tender with her lover Jack? She could even see that. But she never, ever expected Antoinette to be a connoisseur of sexuality. And to be so eloquent and... arousing, in how she described it.

"How... d-d-d-d—"

"Natasha, my sweet dear, you are terribly easy to read, as you no doubt know. And for ones as old as I, we recognize behavior in others, behavior we have seen over centuries, and sometimes expressed ourselves." She sat down beside her, and set the silly pink thigh high socks on her lap. "Learn from my mistakes, and embrace that which you hide behind closet doors."

"You... weren't always s-s-so... confident?"

"My dear! Of course not." She got back up, leaving the socks behind, and started rooting through more of her ghouls' clothes. "I came from a time where women were to be subservient, not dominant. I have always been taller than most men. And, from a time before I can recall, I have had white hair. Much of my life, according to the few journal entries I still retain from that time, I was quite self conscious about those aspects of myself. To be meek, small, to be cared for by a man, that was what I wanted."

Imagining tall, curvy Antoinette being self conscious about anything was a tough thing to imagine, especially with how tonight's conversation had gone, with the Prince shamelessly describing sex and sexual acts and approaching her about them. Woman barely ever blinked, let alone stutter and fidget with embarrassment and awkwardness like Natasha did.

"It was decades," she continued, "before I learned to embrace what I kept private. In today's age, it is preached that women should strive to be assertive; and yet, that has perhaps damaged what many enjoy in the bedroom: being submissive. Jack is submissive with me, and I expect you will enjoy being submissive with your two lovers. Submissive, and perhaps, a little... girlish." She returned from the wardrobe with some colorful tops, some various colors in underwear — bubblegum colors everywhere — and some more types of socks, different colors, different patterns, different heights.

"Your ghouls m-must have a lot of fun."

"Oui. If only we Kindred could enjoy life as they do. But, we may try. Jack has awoken in me many pleasures I let lie dormant. Corsets, I must admit, are a guilty pleasure of mine. To create such unrealistic portrayals of a woman's waist? I should feel more guilty for the act, and yet I cannot help but indulge my vanity."

Natasha giggled, and looked the Prince up and down a few times. Yeah, she definitely seemed like a corset woman. And, as Natasha looked at all the colorful, fun clothes the Prince was showing her, the little Mekhet couldn't help but picture herself in them. Cause they were fun, and silly, and all the things she never considered herself to be. That Jessy kept saying she could be. That Art and Matt seemed to think she was.

She scooped up the clothes. Not that they'd fit her, but it gave her some idea as to the brands she should buy. If a Daeva knew anything, they knew fashion.

"Feel like... I'm b-betraying my bookworm self."

"Nonsense. Embrace that as well." Antoinette dismissed her puerile concerns with a small hand wave, and stood up again to go digging through more clothes. "And I do suggest some nighties to compliment your clothing rotation. Colorful ones. Unless I am mistaken — and that is rare — those two wolves would lose themselves in total, animal lust, if they caught you wearing a babydoll nightie, see-through, and nothing else."

"Nothing else? N-No bottoms?"

"Non. It spoils the collective illusion of innocence such attire can bring. But of course, that is a small distinction, and if you would prefer to wear them, wear something that matches. In either case, the results will be explosive."

And again, Natasha giggled at Antoinette's perfect word choice: explosive. She felt like she should be at a salon, getting her nails done, her hair done, and gossiping about boys with the hair stylist. Course, Antoinette approached sexual details with a little more openness than a hair stylist might. But, at the same time, with total sincerity and maturity. It was refreshing, a total one-eighty from Jessy's approach.