I’m holding a dildo.
On a video call.
A huge dildo—though I’m not sure if that makes a difference.
Yeah baby, when it comes to Prince Regent, size matters bigly.
I’m tempted to drop the dildo, but the magician in me knows that would only bring more attention to it.
Too late anyway.
Tigger’s eyes lock on to the dildo and his lips curve in a smirk. “Nice, myodik. Love your initiative.”
I do drop Prince Regent then, and he smacks my foot painfully.
What did you expect? Prince Regent is massive.
Doing my best not to wince, I say, “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You sure?”
I fight the urge to fan my burning face. Business. This is about business. “How much of a purist are you when it comes to free diving?” I ask in a business-like tone. Good job, Gia.
He runs a hand through his dark hair. “What do you mean by that?”
“What’s your motivation for free diving? You said you wanted to explore an underground lake where scuba gear is prohibited. But do you have to have regular air in your lungs when you do that?”
He shrugs.
“What if instead of gulping air before the dive, you breathe nitrox—an oxygen and nitrogen mixture of the kind they use during a scuba dive? This should reduce problems if you go too deep, allow you to stay underwater longer and in greater comfort, and make the whole thing safer.”
He scratches his chin. “I guess. It feels a little bit like cheating.”
“They call it technical freediving,” I say. “To me, it feels more like a magic trick.”
There. That’s as close as I’ve been to telling him my underwater illusion was just that—an illusion.
He smiles, his hazel eyes crinkling in the corners. “Well, you’re my trainer, so if you think that’s what I should do, I will.”
I put on a serious expression. “I order you to use nitrox.”
He gives me a military salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get gas.”
I laugh. “In that case, here’s a way you can cheat the system: pump your butt with oxygen, learn to fart it in small doses, and capture the bubbles with your nose. Now that would be proper cheating.”
He grins. “How about we focus on pre-breathing the gas mixture for the time being? I’ll get a few different proportions, and we can experiment with them in the pool. It’ll take me a couple of days, though. What do we do in the meantime?”
“Why don’t you sleep in a hypoxic tent until then,” I say. “We can resume pool training once you’ve got gas.”
He gives me a mock frown. “So no training tomorrow?”
I wink. “You’ll see me at the dinner.”
And, hopefully, I’ll think of a way to tell him that I don’t want him to train me in the sexual arts any longer. More time should help with that.
“Is that all?” he asks.
“As far as your training goes, yes,” I say, not liking how heated his gaze is turning.
“Great. Now it’s my turn to train you,” he says. “Pick up the dildo and wash it.”
Well, so much for flaking on Tigger’s training. There’s no way I’m backing out of it now. My pussy would disown me.
I dash over to Manny, twist his head off, and prop my phone in his neck.
“Hold on,” I tell Tigger as I snatch Prince Regent off the floor and sprint to the bathroom to clean him up.
The royal treatment. As befitting a figure of Prince Regent’s stature.
When I come back to my room, I double-check that the door is locked, roll a condom onto Prince Regent, and smear lube on it before returning to the camera’s view.
“What’s the app that controls the toy?” Tigger asks.
“Search for Belka,” I say and walk him through the process of installing it and syncing his phone with Prince Regent.
“Now,” Tigger says when everything is ready. “I want you to strip and get on the bed in my view.”
Not sure why I even bothered with that lube earlier. His commanding tone sends a surge of natural lubrication down south.
Blushing profusely but making sure I’m in view of the camera, I undress seductively, then lie on the bed, legs spread even though he didn’t order for me to do that.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Now place the tip on your clit.”
I do as he says, and he gets Prince Regent vibrating—one-handedly at that.
Fuuuck. Why does this feel so much better than when I was playing with myself? A soft moan escapes my throat as I feel the orgasm creeping up on me. Except I shouldn’t be the only one to come. That’s selfish, right?
“Get naked too,” I mutter, my voice hoarse.
Without slowing the vibration, he puts the phone aside so I only see his ceiling, then rips—or at least that’s what it sounds like—his clothes off.
Before I can blink, the phone is back in his hand and he’s mouthwateringly nude, with His Royal Hardness held tightly in his fist.
That was fast. Did he practice that at the military academy?
He ups my vibration speed, which, combined with the view, takes me over the edge.
Toes curling, I come with a choked cry.
“Now slide it inside,” Tigger growls. “Slowly, just the tip for now.”
As I obey, I fantasize that this is His Royal Hardness stretching me, not a silicone impostor.
He speeds up his fist and ups my vibrations another notch.
By Houdini’s dildo, this really, really feels better than when I play with myself. Masturbation must be like tickling: doing it to yourself is meh, but if your evil sisters gang up on you, you just might pee yourself from giggles.
Tigger squeezes His Royal Hardness and grunts in pleasure. “Slide that deeper now.”
I do, and a massive orgasm coils inside me from all the vibration.
While I can still talk, I manage to get out, “When you shoot your load, do it into the camera. Pretend you’re coming on my face.”
His pupils dilate to the size of nickels.
There. Two can play the dirty-talk game.
He increases the vibration further and speeds up his strokes.
A moan of pleasure is wrenched from my lips.
Then another one.
And another.
With a scream, I come all over Prince Regent.
Breathing audibly, Tigger repositions the camera so it’s inches away from His Royal Hardness.
Sploosh. His cum gushes out like a fountain.
Eat your hearts out, bukkake videos. This is way hotter.
Suddenly, my view goes topsy-turvy and Tigger shouts an obscenity.
It takes my orgasm-addled brain a moment to understand what’s happened: he’s either dropped his phone in the heat of passion, or the cum has made it slip out of his grasp.
A crashing sound confirms my suspicions, and then all I can see is the ceiling.
The force of the impact must do something to the app because it cranks up my vibrations beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Before I can remove Prince Regent from inside me, I come one more time.
Great. If we keep this up, I might develop a new kink—a type of BDSM but with phones. I’ll dress up in all leather, smash an iPhone, kick a Nokia in the screen, blend a Motorola in a blender, and waterboard a Blackberry with toilet water.
Tigger is lucky he doesn’t live with Hannibal, or else the phone would have cat cooties from getting licked right about now. He does have the dogs, but I guess they missed their chance for a meal.
Breathing unevenly, I pull out Prince Regent and manually shut him off.
By the time I look back at the screen, the phone has been picked up, and Tigger’s face is staring at me hungrily—though with the camera splashed with man-juice, he looks like the star of a bukkake video.
“That was fun,” he murmurs.
“Yeah.” I sigh. I can’t bring myself to tell him that this was the opposite of what I had in mind when I decided to stop his version of training. My brain is flooded with oxytocin and his face is no less gorgeous with the cum obstructing my view.
I bite my lip. “I’d better go.”
He gives me a tender smile. “Sweet dreams.”
Sweet? No.
Wet? Definitely.
My X-rated dreams feature Tigger all night, and sometimes a gang bang of Tiggers.
“Which hole do I get?” asks one of the naked Tiggers.
I hungrily lick my lips and go for the method my sisters and I used to select which of us would be the victim of a tickle assault. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a Tigger by his cock.”
When my holes are thusly assigned, we do everything from DP to bukkake, and my slutty dream-self loves every second and every droplet.