Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) (3 page)

It
was Cate.

"Catie!"

Addie
was overjoyed at finding her best friend.
 

When
she told her mum that she was going to the library, what Addie was really doing
was escaping from it all. With this new royal thingy happening, her life had
become a complete whirligig. The media on one side, the relatives on the other
– she never knew they had so many relations.
Must have something to do with the sudden elevation in their social
status
, she concluded. What was it they said: Success is relative; the more
successful you are, the more relatives you end up with!

She
needed to run away from that royal nonsense; her best place to hide being the
university. And now to meet Cate – who never told her she'd be there too, by
the way – was a true blessing.

"Hi
Cate. I'd no idea you'd be here too," she said, her tone indicating a mild
relief.

"I
was not intending to," replied Cate.

"But
with all of those television cameras outside your house, I knew you would be
fleeing to the university. And once here, where else but the library? So I
thought I'd pay you a visit."

"And
thank you for that, my dear Catie," Addie said as she gave her best friend
a tight hug.

"You've
no idea how much I've needed you today."

"Why,
what's up – more protocols?" Cate asked.

"I
don't know, and I don't care. They were all around my mum at home, blokes in
suits in one room, and an ocean of old birds in another. God, how I hate
it!"

"So
you run away into the welcoming arms of your best mate, Cate."

"Precisely!"

They
ran into the library building.

"How
about a cup of coffee first?" Cate suggested.

"Caffeine
before literature, you think I should coin that?"

Addie
laughed.

"What
a wonderful idea," she agreed through her laughter.

"Also,
we can't talk much in the library," whispered Cate.

"That's
why the café was invented for gossip."

They
took a right towards the campus café.

"So
what's the latest on the royal front exactly?" Cate asked as they settled
down at a table in a corner. Addie was concerned about the paparazzi hounding
her even here.

"Well,
you should start practicing calling me 'Her Royal Highness', for one,"
replied Addie, in all seriousness.

Cate,
who knew her friend's wry humor, laughed.

"I'll
remember that," she grinned.

"When
is the wedding supposed to be?"

"I've
no clue," answered Addie.

"But
I'd rather it'd be over and done with."

She
didn't want this stress. And Cate realized it.

"My
life's been turned upside-down. And for no fault of my own."

Addie
caught a flash from the corner of her eye. It looked like someone had trained a
camera through the window.

"There
goes my privacy," she said, shielding her face with her textbook.

Cate
looked out; indeed, there was a man with a camera on the lawn.

"Come,
let's lose this bloke," announced Addie, getting up at once.

They
took a back door from the café kitchen, much to the surprise of the chefs and
baristas, and slipped away.

*****

It
was evening when Adelaide was done at the library. In reality, the library
closed at six, and she had to get out anyway. Cate had gone by about three.

With no place to occupy herself, she had no option but to head home. The sheer
thought of facing the army of reporters and photographers filled her with
nausea.

She
took the bus back. Even before she alighted, she could see the crowds. If only
she could turn invisible and snake her way through and somehow get inside their
modest apartment, she wished. Easier said than done, she knew.

"Quite
a crowd, Miss," said the driver as she was getting off the bus.

"Don't
know how you'll get in."

Though
he said it without knowing her identity, how true that was! She walked at full
speed, taking the multitude head on, puncturing the mob, piercing the
congregation and finding her way.

In
front of her apartment building, the people had left a semi-circle of empty
space. Lining its periphery was an army of media people – announcers,
cameramen, journalists. Many of the talking heads were already recording their
stories in a hurry.

And
now there was another group – the bobbies, the cops. They had set up their
black-and-yellow
Do Not Cross
barricades
and were patrolling the property.

No
wonder the crowd was so well behaved.

A
roar erupted from the mob as the princess-to-be made her way into the
semi-circle. The cops, with an air of superior knowledge, removed the barricade
and let her pass.

Addie
could feel the heat of a hundred cameras focused on her, and the collective
chatter of the talking heads – all of them announcing the arrival of the
daughter of the woman who would be queen.

Minutes
later, she was in her living room. Thankfully, the people that had been in
there in the morning had gone.

Her
mother came in from the kitchen, greeting her.

"Hello
darling," she gave her daughter a peck on the cheek.

Addie
was in no mood to reciprocate. And yet she did.

"Hi
Mum."

"How's
my girl today?"

That
was a redundant question.

"I'm
okay, Mum," replied Addie, suppressing her frustration. That was her
upbringing – to never be rude, whatever the circumstances.

Her
mother sighed. She understood exactly what her daughter was going through.

"Your
trauma will end soon, my girl," she assured her, holding Addie's chin
lovingly.

"The
wedding date has been fixed."

"Oh,"
replied a defeated Addie.

"You
mean that's when my trauma will truly begin."

"Oh
that," dismissed Kenrick.

"That's
the gardener's daughter."

"And
the other one?"

Kenrick
had a closer look.

"Never
seen that bird before…"

He
seemed thoughtful.

"Must've
flown in recently."

Pat
was looking at him meaningfully.

"What?"
asked Kenrick, knowing full well what it was.

Pat
kept staring at his friend.

"Phantom,"
he said at last.

"You're
a prince. Think of that!"

"Yeah,
I'm a goddamn prince. So what?"

"Prince
Kenrick," said Pat, as if in a trance.

"
Who could say no to Prince Kenrick?
"

"Cut
it out, Pat," Kenrick said irritably.

"If
you want some meat, tell me. I'll get some for you. Don't play these games with
me – please."

"Hey
Phantom," Pat said jovially.

"I
was just joking."

"You
know I hate that kind of thing," said Kenrick, shedding his anger.

"Be
straight with me, and I'll be straight in return."

"Okay,
done," Pat resumed his earlier tone.

"Yes,
I want some meat. And I want
that
piece of meat."

Kenrick
sat back, looking at Pat evenly.

"Are
you serious?" he asked his friend, surprised by his renewed interest.

"Any
more serious, I'd be in the ICU."

"In
that case," chuckled Kenrick, getting up.

"Come
along!"

He
held Pat by the hand and dragged him up, and out of the room.

"Hey
Phantom, Phantom!" Pat never thought his friend would mean business.
 

"Just
shut up, Pat. I know you haven't had it for months – with all your trips abroad
and all."

"Phantom,
I didn't mean it, please let's not go there!"

"Shhh!"
he shushed Pat with a finger on his lips.

By
now, Kenrick had hauled him to the ground floor and through a door at the rear
of the manor, where they stepped out.

That
was where the workers had their break time, where they hung around in between
work. Kenrick, still leading his friend by the hand, looked into one room after
another as he raced along. Mostly they were empty, as the workers were out on
the property or on the fields.

In
front of one of the rooms, he stopped, panting. Pat, who caught up with Kenrick
a second later, also stopped, also panting. In front of them, in the room, were
the two birds they had seen from the window. They were seated, their lunchboxes
open, about to have their food.

Both
of them, startled at the movement at the door, stood up at once and curtseyed.

"Good
morning, Your Royal Highness," they both echoed as one.

"Not
lunchtime yet, you bitches," said Kenrick, spitting venom for no reason.

"How
about eating some cock first?"

The
women, trembling with fear, stood there dazed. Kenrick stepped into the room,
pulling Pat inside, and slammed the door closed. Its echo reverberated in the
hallways of the manor.

"Which
one do you want?"

Pat
was too stunned to answer.

"WHICH
ONE DO YOU WANT?" Kenrick barked.
 

Pat
knew he had to pick one. It was too late for common decency now.

"That...
that one," he pointed at the shorter of the two.

"Okay,
go!"

He
released Pat and pushed him towards the woman he'd selected in one swift move.

Pat
almost crashed into the girl at the dining table. He felt a little ashamed to
be at the wrong side of this aggression, but there was nothing he could do.
Little did he imagine that just a jest on his part would have come to
this
.
 

Kenrick,
meanwhile, was advancing towards the other woman. She was not only taller, she
was the prettier of the two, and genuinely deserving of his royal patronage.

"Come,
Bitch," muttered Kenrick.

"First
my cock, then your food."

He
reached her and held her by the hair – she screamed.

"Don't
scream!" Kenrick screamed.

The woman shut up, her hair still in his vice-like grip.

"Don't.
Scream." Kenrick said evenly, bringing her face towards his face. But he
would not be as gracious as to give her a kiss; her job was down below, the
dirty job that only menials did, and she was a menial.

He
pushed her down, making her sit forcibly, but that was too low; then he pulled
her up, making her kneel… This seemed about right, now she was level.

"Okay,
you, open up!" yelled Kenrick.

The
hapless woman opened her mouth wide, but it looked like she'd comprehended the
command wrong.

"Open
my fly, you whore."

Kenrick's
patience was more short-lived than his orgasm.

"Open
it, take my cock out, and then open your mouth!"

Now
the instructions were clear. The woman, with shaking fingers, fumbled with the
zipper of his trousers, then groped inside over his underwear (which he
graciously lowered) and drew out his enormous dick. His full erection was still
some distance away, and it was already a mile long.

"Now!"
came the command from the prince.

The
woman opened her mouth wide and took him in. Then nothing happened; the woman
just knelt there, without moving herself or the cock…

An
agonizing five seconds passed. Then came an almighty tug at her hair from
above, and the woman moaned.

Almost
on cue, as if she was programmed that way like Pavlov's dog, she began sucking
his cock with all her strength. Kenrick liked it immensely, as if discovering
some enormous hidden talent in this artist, and thrust his pelvis outward for
her to get more room, and maneuver her mouth better. In, out, in, out, in, out;
it went on and on…

Kenrick's
eyes were closed… Now he was enjoying it…

While
the woman was at work, he reached down and pulled at her blouse. The buttons
holding her ample bosom, rather precariously, snapped and fell on the floor,
some of them rolling away under the furniture as if hiding from all the
violence.

His
strong hands pushed inside with force and held her breast in his iron grip. As
if in protest, her nipple rose up hard, and his fingers responded by squeezing
it as if it were a flea.

The
woman let out a yelp. Kenrick strengthened his grip on her hair, holding her
head firmer, and punished her with more violent thrusts of his penis inside her
tiny mouth. He did this over and over and over again; he was a stallion that
could time his orgasm, and so he held on, without any let up.

He
looked up to see what was going on with Pat. That bastard was just standing
there, next to the girl, and both were aghast at what Kenrick was doing, their
eyeballs almost bursting out of their sockets…

"You
son of a bitch!" screamed Kenrick as he reached for whatever he could.

In
his frenzy – his cock was still in the woman's mouth – he could only get to the
lunchbox on the table.

He
picked it up and flung it at Pat with all his might.