Chapter 1

Before the meeting, I checked my gray and light blue Armani suit. They had charged extra because of my unusually tall height of six foot seven or exactly two meters, but it looked great. As I tidied my short dark hair in a restroom mirror, I decided my new exercise program was more than worth it. At age 40, I was only two kilos above my ideal weight, and looked better than most men ten years younger. I noticed my eyes were a slightly darker blue than my suit, but close enough.

I arrived at my study a few minutes early and sat in a very comfortable antique chair. A master craftsman had made it a century and a half ago, for King Alfonso of Spain. I rested my forearms on the mahogany and teak desk that was once owned by a President of Brazil. Just the two pieces had cost me a quarter million, but what’s the value of money compared to history and comfort, when you have more money than you could ever spend? I looked at the wonderful portraits on the walls. The Renoir had been switched for a Matisse, per my arrangement with the local art museum. I smiled at its beauty.

I stood as the young woman walked in. Her deep blue eyes sparkled in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. The dark wall behind her made it easy to see the few single strands of light red hair that rebelled, refusing to be part of her beautiful tight curls. She’d done her makeup very well. Other than her light purple lip gloss and long fake lashes, I barely noticed she was wearing any.

One of my assistants must have given her a lot of advice on my likes and dislikes. I strongly prefer ladies who look only slightly more conservative than ‘slutty’. She wore a slightly translucent white blouse, with the two top buttons undone, revealing much of her sexy mid-sized bosoms. The abundant light also showed the shape of her black bra beneath, starting a mild stirring in my trousers.

If I could have seen the shape of her nipples, or more than a brief glance at her panties, I would have been offended she arrived at an interview looking that way. At first glance she only appeared 25 years old, but on closer inspection of the small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, I could tell she was 30 or 31.

I made a minor show of looking at my platinum Rolex, which was encrusted with diamonds and sapphires. “You’re right on time.” I smiled and offered her my hand. “I’m Viceroy sir Lysander Arminius Massena the third. I must say, it’s truly a joy to meet you.”

I felt the warmth and smoothness of her soft skin, as she shook mine. Her pupils dilated slightly and she began to blush. She awkwardly replied, “Mister Massena ... ah ... Sir Lysander, um ... the honor’s all mine, sir! I’m Sherry Cooper. I’ve heard you ... um ... almost never give interviews in person. I’m very grateful, and I ah...”

I put her at ease a little. “You’ve already been accepted, and there are at least three positions you can choose from. You don’t have any reason to be nervous. Please have a seat.”

The strawberry-blonde’s breasts bounced a bit as she sat down across the desk from me. Her light pink miniskirt matched the color of her cheeks and left the very bottom of her black panties revealed briefly, before she coyly crossed her legs. Black shoes with 3-inch heels and a small black purse completed her ensemble.

I stepped over to the bar and poured myself a glass of good Merlot. I offered, “Would you care for a soda, wine, or perhaps something stronger?”

“Ah ... diet cola, please?”

“And what do you like when you drink alcohol?”

“White wine.”

I handed her a glass of ice, then a cold can and a glass of Chardonnay. “In case you change your mind.”

I pointed out the two small cameras on the shelves, and the other behind my desk. “I hope you don’t mind if this interview is recorded, and that several other cameras are placed around the house and grounds?”

She shook her head. “That’s ok.”

I took a small sip of the Merlot, enjoying its complex flavor as I returned to my seat. “As you no doubt noticed, we’re meeting in one of my homes. This isn’t a place of business and smoking is allowed in certain areas. Feel free, if it would make you more comfortable.” I pointed to an ashtray and matches on a shelf.

She pulled a long white cigarette from her purse. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, sir?”

“Please. I enjoy a good cigar on occasion. I HAVE been knighted, but my proper title is ‘Marquis Massena’ or ‘Viceroy Lysander’. In private you may call me Lysander, or Viceroy.”

I liked that her cigarettes were long white 120’s. Only the thin 120s and super-long 156s were more appealing to me. I carefully watched her cheeks and lips, as she lit the cigarette with a match and took a large puff. The sucking motion reminded me of certain bedroom activities. She held it for several seconds, then turned to the side and exhaled a tight stream of smoke. She sighed with relief and took another deep drag. I liked the way the spirals of smoke rising from the cigarette matched the pretty spirals of her curly hair.

“So, Lysander, which positions are available?”

“Since you finished culinary school at the top of your class, there are several. There’s a job as an Area Manager, in charge of about a hundred employees at nine fast food restaurants. There’s another as Head Chef at a large family restaurant, with a staff of thirty. That position pays about the same. If you don’t mind working your way up, with a slightly lower salary, we also need a morning chef for my home here. Your supervisor would be...”

She had a huge smile, as she interrupted; “Anistas Fazoulli! I could work with the great Anistas!”

“Indeed, you could. I’m also deciding if I’d like to offer you something even better.”

Sherry loudly asked in her excitement, “What could be better?”

“Part of my decision is being certain that you’re not a member of law enforcement, and that I can trust you.”

I put a pill on the desk in front of her. “This is a small dose of morphine, a pain pill that some people use to get high. On drug tests, it stands out like a spotlight. There are no more illegal drugs on the estate. If you’re with the police write me a citation with a tiny fine, and be on your way. If you want to know about another job you may be qualified for...”

She swallowed the pill and washed it down with a sip of wine. “So how long until I start feeling it?”

I chuckled a little. “Please pardon the minor deception, but I needed to know. It’s actually just an allergy pill. You probably won’t sneeze tonight.”

She giggled a bit. “Of course. So, what’s the other job?”

She took a final puff and crushed the cigarette out. Just watching her face as she smoked had firmed my manhood to half erection.

“What we’re about to discuss has nothing to do with the other three jobs. If something I say bothers you, just take any of the other three positions. You’ll never have to speak to me again, and there will be no negative consequences. All right?”

She repeated, “So, what’s the other job?”

“Not exactly a job, Sherry. Since I’m down to four at the moment, I’m looking for another girlfriend.”

“You uh ... what would I need to do? And what would I get? And you have four already?”

“My girlfriends live with me and get very nice cars. For the few who don’t want to drive something like a Bently or Lamborghini, chauffeurs ferry them around in limousines. Many presidents and kings live poorer lives and eat worse food. Most days when we’re in town, the famous Anistas makes lunch and dinner. The ladies I get pregnant receive three million as a bonus, and another three million in a trust for the child when they get a degree or reach age 25. If you don’t get pregnant, after three years with me, you’d make about five times any of the chef salaries. If you do have a baby with me, you could retire comfortably once the child is born.

I’m not into pain or anything too distasteful, but from time to time I enjoy things some women don’t like. If I want oral sex and one of my girlfriends doesn’t like doing it, she does the best she can and tells me how good it tastes, even if it doesn’t. If I want anal sex and it hurts a little, they try to smile, then tell me how glad they are that I’m happy. I’m careful to prevent injuries, and I try to cause as little pain as necessary. But if I want something sexy, they do it for me.”

She nervously chewed the edge of a fingernail and said, “I can do blowjobs, and um ... maybe ... ah ... anal. And I love doggy style and 69!”

“Very good. I travel frequently for business, and my girlfriends go with me. I have eleven luxurious homes on four continents, all with individual bedrooms for myself and each girlfriend. One of my mansions is two blocks from Windsor Castle, and another is across the street from the Versailles palace gardens. I’m also one of the very few people to have a private park in downtown Tokyo, or a villa near Rome with its own airstrip.

My girlfriends each get a weekly allowance of five thousand, deposited automatically in their bank accounts, and very nice gifts for birthdays and holidays. I like variety, and three years is the longest I typically keep companions with me. Those that choose to stay with me long enough, get a million as a three-year anniversary and going-away gift. Assuming you don’t get pregnant, you could have nearly two million in only three years.

Rest assured, there’s no reason for jealousy. Nothing negative happens to the others when one of my ladies makes me happy. I have plenty of love and happiness to go around, and I don’t mind if they have sexy times with other men in private; using protection of course. I usually have fun with a lady or two during the day, and each gets one night a week to do whatever she wants with me. Sometimes they just cuddle and sleep next to me, and sometimes they invite another girl to spend some extra-happy time with us.”

Her cheeks reddened as she shyly said, “I’ve only been with girls a few times, but I kind of like them too.”

“That’s very nice to know. I’m sure you’ll need some time to think about it, and I’d like to meet your daughter first. How about we get together again next week, and...”