Niq - New Adult

Chapter 3

“It’s fine,” I reassure myself out loud, still staring at my last idiotic message to Onrhi.  “When I don’t show up, he’ll just leave and it won’t even matter.”  I don’t sound very convinced.

Another chat message pings.  Vix must have come up for air finally.  Dinner at mine?  Pool table is set.

Sure, I reply.  Be there in 5.

Extricating myself from bed, I catch a whiff of my underarms and realise how badly I need to shower.  The bathroom is one of my favourite places in the house, a space I’ve had decorated in black volcanic stone.  With the natural sun filtering through the frosted skylights, it’s like walking into a warm, sunlit grotto. 

Scrubbing off under the water, I pretend I’m inside an undersea cave, exploring where no one has ever been before.  It’s just me and my guide, in uncharted territory.

Pipe dream, I chastise myself while towelling down.  I moisturise and scrape my hair up into a high pony tail, walking through into my enormous wardrobe. 

Although there has to be thousands of outfits lining the vast shelves, all provided by Parliament as a standard Royal garment collection , I only wear about four different combos.  At home, it’s mostly yoga pants and tank tops.  When Vix drags me out clubbing, I’ll team a floaty top with my favourite leather pants, and I have a formal gown collection for official Royal events.

My only guilty clothing pleasure is my swimwear.  I have bikinis in every shade and hundreds of gorgeous filmy kaftans.  I once commented online how much I love the water and fashion designers from every city began to send me their swimsuits. 

I snap a pic of a sapphire blue bikini on its hanger, with a white and silver kaftan draped over the top.  Sending it to the designer with a quick thanks attached, I’ve done my good deed for the day.  There’s thousands of fashion designers and only a few muses for them to dress anymore.  A Queen wearing your work can make your career.

Donning the swimsuit and kaftan, I prepare myself for the outside world.  I slip down the stairs, pausing at the bottom.  Hearing Schteve chatting with Chef Mykael in the kitchen, I choose not to engage in conversation, taking the side door outside and crossing the grass to Vix’s palace.

Raucous laughter echoes from the poolside.  A wide table sits in the shallows of the blue water, and Vix is perched prettily on a half-submerged cane chair.  She flicks her hair around her shoulders while tilting her com-pad for a better angle.  I wade into the water and find a chair, waiting until she finishes her evening address to her followers.

“Yes, Ritch, I do love rolling a cock between my breasts.”  She aims the screen down to show her overflowing bosom to the audience.  She jiggles them up and down, and to the side of her screen, I can see her feed fill up with thousands of appreciative comments.  “Can’t you just imagine yours pumping in and out of here?”

“Shameless,” I whisper at her.  She ignores me.

“One last question before this Queen dines.  Um…”  Vix scans down the list of pre-submitted queries.  “What am I looking for in my future Mate?  Now, that’s a tough one…”

Zoning out as Vix begins to describe her ideal penis size and sexual stamina requirements, I try to picture who I would choose.   He doesn’t need to be tall, just a little taller than my average height.  I don’t care about eye colour or skin tone but I’d prefer someone with nice arms and strong hands.  Pretty much everything appearance-wise is negotiable. 

Actually, the only requirement I’d stand firm on, is for my ideal mate to be a Natural.  The bevy of Tubies who trail around after Vix just don’t do it for me.  The little flaws and individual features on naturally conceived babies make for intriguing adults.