Transforming Genevieve Ch. 27

The blaring sound of my alarm jolted me from a six-hour nap, and while I thought about hitting the snooze button for another thirty minutes of sleep, I knew that I had things to prepare before I started the forty-five-minute drive north. So I slipped from beneath my soft fluffy comforter and headed for the kitchen to heat some water for my morning tea. While waiting for the teakettle to begin whistling, I went to the bathroom, emptied my bladder, splashed some cold water on my face, and brushed my teeth. The kettle wasn't whistling when I returned to the kitchen, but the steam rising from the tiny hole in the lid told me the water was hot enough, so I poured it over a tea bag containing my favorite flavor, Caramel Vanilla.

I'm a list writer, so I sat down at the kitchen table with a pad and pen and began noting those items I'd want to have handy while at The Villa. I included two changes of clothes, lingerie, swimsuits, sandals, extra makeup, a cell charger, hair dryer, and curling iron. With my list and teacup in hand, I pulled a small roll-along suitcase from the hall closet and went into my bedroom to gather my things. Once everything was packed, I sat down at my makeup table to do my hair. Since I expected the early part of the day to be more casual, I pulled my long locks back into a tight ponytail and then applied a hint of blush to my cheeks and a lovely shade of pink gloss to my lips.

I had one stop to make on my drive north, and that was at the drug store, where I bought a box of ribbed latex condoms and a few other toiletries. I arrived at the guard shack about twelve-forty-five and discovered it unmanned. A small sign on the door read, "Please scan your membership card." The light on the scanner turned from red to green, and I proceeded to drive along the heavily tree-lined driveway. In the daylight, the Villa looked even bigger than it had the night before, a massive structure with at least a dozen windows on the second floor facing the front lawn. I assumed each window was for one room upstairs. Pulling along the left side of the building, I stopped where Gregory had greeted me last night, but the friendly older gentleman was nowhere in sight. Another sign instructed early arrivals to park and leave their keys in the same basket where he'd told me to drop my valet tag last night. I assumed the staff would be arriving sometime before three to start their shift.

The massive front door was locked, so I pressed the doorbell and waited for someone to greet me. After a minute or two, I rang the bell again and a moment later heard Regina's voice off to my left. "Raven, can you come this way," she said. I retraced my steps back to the driveway and joined her there. "Early arrivals gain access through the service door; follow me," she said.

We walked to the rear and followed a much narrower path to the service door. "I'll give you a key for this door once we've finished our tour today," she remarked.

Much like the path outside, the hall inside was narrow, with numbered rooms lining both sides. "These are the private rooms for our dividend members," Regina said, then quickly added, "I've assigned you to room number nine."

We stopped at room nine, and she asked, "Can I get your membership card? If my staff has done the changeover, you should be able to swipe your card to unlock the door." The locks worked like a hotel room, and once she ran my card through the reader, the light changed from red to green, and she pressed down on the door handle and pushed it open.

"They're not fancy but will serve your purpose nicely," she said.

Inside, the room reminded me of a cheap hotel with spartan furnishings and a single bed. A small bathroom was built into one corner of the room, and the single window was covered with heavy drapes to ensure privacy. The only light was a ceiling-mounted fixture that cast a harsh light evenly over most of the room. I stepped to the bathroom and opened the bi-fold door. Inside, a tiny shower, toilet, and a small vanity with a single mirror above and a light on either side. I thought this wasn't where I'd likely spend a lot of time.

"Did you bring any supplies," Regina asked.

"Yes, I have a suitcase in my car," I answered.

"Great, why don't you run out and get your bag and unpack it, then come to the greeting room, and I'll give you the fifty-cent tour," she suggested.

"Sound like a plan," I replied.

Back outside the room, Regina turned to her right and headed for the door at the end of the hall. I turned to my left and, after flipping the door wedge down, dashed to my Volvo and retrieved my suitcase from the trunk. Then, returning to the propped-open door, I reversed the procedure and made sure to pull the door closed tightly.

I figured I'd have time later to unpack my stuff, and I was anxious to see the rest of the mansion, so I left my suitcase on the bed and headed for the greeting room. Regina was on her cell phone when I entered the room.

"Yes, sir, she just arrived," I heard her say, then listened for a moment before again speaking, "I understand," another pause, "that's very good," another pause, "I'll explain everything to her, I know how important he is," another pause, "I won't let you down sir,"

Regina was clearly speaking to someone in charge, and I assumed that someone was Ted Hess.

"Good bye sir," she finally said before pressing the disconnect button on her cell phone.

She turned toward me and said, "Let's show you the pool area first."

I smiled and followed her into the same wide hall I'd explored the night before. A door at the end of the hall led outside to a wooden deck with several chaise lounge chairs and a couple of twin Adirondack chairs with a table between each. Across the deck were two steps down to a gravel walkway leading to the pool. I stepped off the bottom step, and the heel of my stiletto sank into the gravel. "Hold on a second," I remarked as I slipped my heels off and began following Regina toward the pool. It was perhaps fifty yards from the deck and somewhat nestled into the woods. Surrounding the pool were the same kind of chaise lounges and twin Adirondack chairs. But off to one side, I noticed a massive hot tub, big enough for at least six people, the surface of the water was bubbling from at least eight jets evenly spaced around the perimeter of the tub.

Regina stopped between the two and turned to face me. "If you're here, you are fair game to anyone who joins you. While we cannot restrict the paying members, I'd ask you to try and avoid having intercourse in the pool or tub. It makes a mess of the filters," she remarked.

It seemed silly that I couldn't outright ask a member to fuck me, but if that member instituted the action, it was okay. There were undoubtedly enough lounge chairs available, and if push came to shove, a beach towel spread on the lawn would suffice.

I smiled at her and asked, "If I swallow, is an underwater blowjob, okay?"

Regina just smiled at me.

"Let's go back inside. I want to show you the second-floor rooms," she said.

Once we reached the deck, I slipped my heels back on and walked past the Voyeur's Lounge and into the greeting room. Samuel was hard at work setting up his bar for the evening.

"Hiya Samuel," I said as we walked past the bar.

"Raven, what's up, darlin'?" he replied.

"I'm giving her the tour," Regina remarked, not wanting to pause and past the time of day with him.

I followed her up the long-curved staircase to the second floor, pausing to look down at the foyer below.

"This way," she said as she walked toward a long vast hall.

On either side, there were doors, and I assumed each one represented another private bedroom. She stopped at one door, swiped her card, and pressed the lever down, pushing the door open.

These rooms were much larger than the one Harry, Sally, and I spent together the night before. They featured the same king-size bed but had two sitting areas, one arranged in front of the large window and the other close to a small bar. "Our exclusive members entertain in these rooms," Regina remarked.

"Harry isn't an exclusive member?" I asked.

"Not yet. Exclusive membership is reserved for those guests who have been members for ten years or more," she explained.

I understood what that meant. To be able to climb that wide curved staircase, a member would have to pay ten times the annual membership dues.

"I have one more room to show you, Raven," she said as we exited this luxurious bedroom.

We stepped a few rooms deeper in the hall, and Regina stopped at a door with the letters PS painted in gold scripted lettering on the outside.

"PS stands for the presidential suite," she explained.

"Oh my," I replied.

It's reserved for members of royal families and very highly placed politicians.

"Are we talking presidents?" I asked.

She smiled and replied, "Yes, several past and sitting presidents, but mostly European and Middle Eastern royalty."

She slid her card through the reader and then punched a series of numbers on the keypad to unlock the door.

This room was fit for a king; a huge post bed with a canopy was positioned between two windows and sat on a raised platform. It only had one seating area, including a full-sized leather couch. A fully stocked bar and elegant light fixtures gave the room a presidential appearance.

Regina walked across the room and opened the door to the bath, which was as extravagant as the bedroom. It included a large double bowl marble vanity top and cabinet, and a rich-looking glass-enclosed shower appeared large enough for two and included a detachable spray wand. Beside the shower, and probably my favorite feature was a two-person built-in Jacuzzi tub.

"That phone call I took earlier was from Ted Hess. He called to inform me that tonight we'd be entertaining a European Crown Prince." She explained as we returned to the bedroom.

"Okay, and?" I said.

Regina grinned at me and then remarked, "Based on Ted's brief conversation with Harry Snyder earlier today, he'd like you to spend the evening with the prince."

I almost couldn't believe what she'd said; on only my second day at The Villa, I'd be spending the night with royalty. "I won't let you down, Regina," I replied.

"For security purposes, the prince will be escorted to this room, and you'll be waiting for his arrival here," she explained.

"Can you tell me more about his position? What country is he from?" I asked.

"I'm not permitted to tell you anything except that his name is Jordan. If he chooses to provide you with details of his life, that's up to him, but I will remind you of the non-disclosure you signed," Regina said.

I replied, "I understand."

"Prince Jordan has given us specific details on how you should dress. I know you've brought additional clothing; did you include anything formal?" Regina asked.

"I'm afraid not," I replied.

She smiled and said, "No problem, I'm sure we can find something that will fit his request precisely."

"I believe I can cover the lingerie, though," I reassured her.

Regina smiled and then glanced at her watch, "His flight is scheduled to land at Logan in an hour, so time is of the essence. Why don't you get into your lingerie, and I'll bring you a sexy evening gown as soon as I can," she suggested.

I followed Regina to the foyer, where we parted company, I headed off to my room to change and do my makeup, and she went to find something that would entice the prince.

While the idea of fucking royalty excited me, I was reminded of Samuel's advice that they all pull their pants on the same way. I was reasonably confident that royal cock would be no different from any other and that a load of cum from a royal family member would be just as tasty as every other cum load I've savored.

Once alone in my room, I unpacked my small suitcase, hanging the two cocktail dresses, slacks, and sweaters I'd brought in the closet, and then arranged my lingerie and other essentials in the tiny dresser. I stripped off the white fashion slacks and navy blue pulled-over sweater I'd worn for the drive north. I expected Regina would find something in black, so I removed the dainty white lace thong and bra, replacing them with a very sexy black satin and lace garter, a satin thong, and a matching bra that had eyelash trim along the top of the cups. I'd wait to slip my Cuban-style silk stockings on until closer to the time of Jordan's arrival.

Without a makeup desk, I had to suffice with the small vanity mirror. I brushed my long hair straight so it would nearly reach my ass and then applied blush, eye shadow, liner, and mascara to my eyes. My emerald green eyes popped when I finished. My fingernails were bright red, so I matched my lips to that color. A tiny spritz of my favorite perfume on my neck completed that portion of my preparations for what I hoped would be a highly erotic seduction of our royal guest.

Regina entered my private space without knocking as I closed the bathroom door. "I've found a perfect gown," she remarked as she stepped toward the bed. She held the hanger's hook in one hand, and the remainder of the dress was draped over her other arm.

The fabric was as black as my hair, and when I lifted the hanger discovered it was satin.

"You're gonna have to go braless," Regina remarked.

"I love the feel, and I'm certain the look will be very sexy," I said.

"I'll let you finish dressing; meet me in the greeting room when you're ready," Regina said before leaving me alone.

I removed my sexy bra and carefully slipped the Cuban-style silk stockings up my legs, clipping the tops to my garter. The gown was floor length with no zipper clasp or ties. It was meant to be worn draped over your shoulders. I stepped into the dress and lifted it over my body until the flowing cowl material rested on my shoulders. In back, the cowling cascaded nearly to my butt cheeks, and in front, its slightly higher neckline revealed only a hint of my soft cleavage.

"Wow," I thought, "this is one very sexy dress."

From the bottom hem, the gown was split over one leg, rising so that the top of my stocking was visible when I stepped. I slipped on my five-inch stilettos, which lifted the hem off the floor. I couldn't wait to see Jordan's reaction to this seductive attire.

I slipped my cell phone, lip gloss, and a couple of condoms into my black clutch purse and headed to the greeting room. It was nearly three-thirty when I stepped into the room. Several members who were sitting about waiting for the festivities to begin glanced toward me with wide eyes and dropped jaws. I sashayed to the bar where Regina was chatting with Samuel.

"How do I look?" I asked.

Samuel instantly replied, "Like a million bucks."

As I pirouetted on the balls of my feet, showing Regina how the gown fit, she said, "I knew that gown was perfect for you, Raven."

I couldn't agree more, everything about this dress screamed seduction, and the sleek satin fabric was already caressing my nipples which hardened and poked at the sensual material covering my tits.

"He'll be here shortly, so let's get you upstairs so you can properly greet him," Regina said.

As we climbed the wide curved staircase, Regina offered, "Prince Jordan will be spending the night, and we expect you to remain with him until he departs. If true to form, he'll spend some time getting to know you first, so don't be worried that he's disappointed with you."

I smiled, thinking there wasn't a man on the earth that would be disappointed in me. I couldn't recall ever feeling or looking sexier than I did at that moment.

We reached the Presidential Suite, and Regina unlocked the door and pushed it open. "I'll be escorting the prince here when he arrives," she said as I stepped into the opulent suite.

I walked across the room and sat on one of the leather chairs beneath the window, and placed my clutch on the table beside. I'll admit to having butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach as I awaited his arrival. After all, less than forty-eight hours ago, I was in a dingy apartment, smoking weed and fucking two stoners, and then moved across the street to take on one of the biggest black cocks I'd ever experienced. So my decision to sign on with Luxury Inc. couldn't have come at a more opportune time; I'd completed the transformation from a boring, sexless college professor to a vivacious woman on the verge of pleasuring royalty.

My excitement grew as the moments passed, and what seemed like hours was, in reality, only a few minutes until the door slowly opened. I smiled, but to my surprise, two rather burly men entered the room; walking toward me, the larger of the two said, "Please stand up, Miss,"

I stood and took a step toward him as he said, "Raise your arms to shoulder height."

I did as he instructed, unsure what this was all about. Then, as he closed the distance between us, he explained, "We are the Crown Prince's security detail. I'll be patting you down for weapons."

I smiled and mentally prepared to be groped by his massive hands.

In a rather business-like manner, his hands explored every square inch of my body, paying particular attention to my legs and thighs, which I assumed was one spot an assassin could hide a tiny handgun.

"She's clean," he remarked to his staring assistant.

"Do you have a handbag?" he asked after straightening up before me.

I pointed to my clutch on the table, which was opened and thoroughly inspected for any possible offensive items.

"We're good to go," he said.

They quickly left the room, and since I knew Jordan was waiting in the hall, I remained standing where they'd patted me down. The door didn't close completely when Regina pushed it wide open and stepped aside to allow the prince to enter first.

First impressions set the tone, and mine was one of pure excitement. Jordon appeared in his early forties, more handsome than I could have imagined. His hair, a light brown color and slightly wavy, was combed with a part on one side of his scalp. As he approached, his eyes widened, and I detected a sparkle in his otherwise dark brown eyes.

Breaking a moment of total silence, Regina introduced us. "Prince Jordan, I'd like you to meet Raven." He instantly smiled broadly at me, flashing brilliant white teeth and drawing his lips tightly over his mouth.

"Raven, please say hello to Prince Jordan," Regina said. I noticed she'd caught herself when speaking his name, thinking she had stopped so that she didn't reveal where he was a prince.

"It's my pleasure," I replied, extending my delicate red-tipped hand toward him. His handshake was warm and gentle, but rather than releasing my hand, he turned toward Regina and said, "Thank you, Regina, that'll be all."

She smiled at us and said, "When would you like dinner?"

"Give us an hour," Jordan replied.

"Very good, Sir," she said as she exited the suite.

Once we were alone, Jordan released my hand and stepped back. Then, with a grin on his lips, he lifted his arm above his head and moved his hand in a circular motion. I understood what he wanted and slowly pirouetted on my stilettos, providing him with a view of my gown from all angles.

"Stunning," he remarked once I'd revolved once.

His remark brought a broad smile to my lips.

"How would you like me to address you, sir?" I asked.

He laughed and said, "Well, you can drop the sir, and I abhor being reminded that I'm a prince, so why don't you just call me Jordan."

As he spoke, I admired his clothing, his tailored suit fit perfectly, and the starched white shirt fit snuggly around his neck. His necktie formed a perfect square, and the gold bar drew his collar tightly against the knot.

"Come, let's sit and talk," Jordan suggested as he again took my hand and led me to the chairs beneath the window.