Prinzess Lou

Lou sat in front of her laptop in her office on board the Elisée, her husband's yacht. The yacht was about 72 meters long and ultra‐modern. Lou, who had only married a few months ago, had decided to keep a daily report, or rather a kind of diary. Michel had got her the laptop and equipped it with the latest security measures. "From the NSA," Michel grinned, "and even they have very few people who can crack it." Lou had arranged for a small safe to be installed in her bedroom, a large cabin, which very few people knew about. She changed the combination every week because that's where she kept this private, very private laptop. The small office was a separate part of the bedroom, it had a clear view of the sea, the end of the huge panoramic wall of the bedroom ended with the small office. Lou briefly skimmed over all the chapters she had written so far.

She had been born Maria Louise von Hohenlahnstein in Germany, her father ran the winery and vineyards more poorly than well. Noble yes, rich no. Her father was still rooted in the patriarchy, but endeavored to live a progressive life. Lou, as she was called, was the baby of the family, but she would never inherit or run the winery. The two grown‐up brothers studied hard and would one day take over the winery. Their father therefore sent her to the best schools, even though he was short of money. Her mother had died when she was 15. Her father came into her room at night and cried, he had loved her mother very much. Her father held her in his arms and sobbed until he fell asleep from tiredness. The next day he asked if she would spend the night in his big bed, he didn't want to be alone. Lou said okay.

She never owned pyjamas, she always slept naked. She kept her panties on when she got into bed with him at night. They held each other and she let him cry. She had stayed with her mother until the end, had accompanied her when she was dying and was with her when she died. Lou was, of course, terribly sad that the most important person in her life was dead, but she was not as terribly sad as her father. Perhaps his grief came from his guilty conscience, because he had only confessed to her on his deathbed that he had shamelessly cheated on her again and again. It was never anything serious, he was simply a hunter with a strong hunting instinct, he wanted to fuck every woman, old or young. Now that was the end of the hunt. Her mother smiled softly and murmured wearily, "I knew, I knew, my love!" Lou remembered how concerned her father had looked, visibly surprised and embarrassed at the same time. "No, never!" her mother managed to get out with difficulty, "never! You were my first man and my only one." Lou had never seen her father so affected.

Lou looked up from her laptop. Flashlights blinked fitfully on the beach off which the yacht was anchored. She continued to read. It obviously did her father good not to have to be alone. They hugged again and again, she murmured soothingly in his ear when he cried. She stroked his naked body and avoided touching his cock. She always waited until he was fast asleep and only then did she masturbate. She had masturbated to sleep every night since kindergarten‐days. It must have been 14 days since she had lovingly and tenderly stroked him. Then he took her hand and placed it on his stiff cock. She feverishly wondered whether she should give him a handjob. It was nothing special, it was a matter of course in her age group. She barely rubbed him for a minute before he was overcome by the urge and he lay down between her thighs. She had been fucked several times before and wasn't taken by surprise when he ruthlessly penetrated her vagina. She let herself be fucked and held back, it would be perverse to return his fucking. He didn't have to thrust for very long before he groaned and squirted. She switched on the bedside lamp and lit a cigarette. Her father murmured, "Thank you, Princess, thank you!" She lit a cigarette for him too and they smoked in silence.

"It's incest," Lou began. He nodded dejectedly.

"Yeah, I know. But I just couldn't hold back anymore, princess, I'm really sorry! — Did I take your virginity?" he asked worriedly, but Lou gave a short laugh.

"I'm already 15, Dad, and this is the 21st century! No 15‐year‐old is a virgin these days!" She smiled at him and instead of looking dismayed, he smiled.

"Good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief, "I wouldn't have forgiven myself! Only because my nature got the better of me!"

"So it's about time you took a wife," Lou said, "I'm a woman too and I've fucked a few, but I'm your daughter." The silence lasted a long time. Lou had only fucked two, but she left it at the plural. Now they argued back and forth for fifteen minutes, but they finally agreed. He would find himself a steady girlfriend or wife, until then she was okay with continuing the incest fuck. They fucked for a year and a half, then he found a soul mate. An aristocratic young lady from Denmark, but she spoke fluent German. Charlotte was in her late thirties, loud, humorous and damn lascivious. She was not a seductive beauty, but really just seductive. She was very much in love with him because he was a thoroughly honest, straightforward character. She had a really big bank account and liked to give gifts to the estate. Like Charlotte, he didn't believe in marital fidelity; they both wanted an open marriage. Lou didn't like her open display of sexuality and lechery, but otherwise had a good relationship with her. Lou was now 17, preparing for her A‐levels and left her father to fuck Charlotte. She had no regrets, but she knew what she wanted to study, marine biology.

She studied in Paris and London, and year after year she spent more time at sea than on land. She traveled to many places, she was very hard‐working and was therefore very well supported. The topics of environmental protection and climate change were now also reaching the general public, and the fact that marine biology played an important role was generally recognized. At 25, she began writing her doctoral thesis and Michel came into her life. He was a few years younger than her, he was employed by the university as a tutor and alongside his lectures he worked as an assistant with Lou. It took a few weeks before they ended up in bed. Lou was no wallflower and fucked when she wanted and who she wanted. It wasn't very smart to seduce your coworker, but they had so much in common and so many interests that eventually it really clicked. She was very attracted to him, he wasn't one of those stupid macho men, of which there were as many as there were pigeons in Paris. She was attracted to him like a sister, there was no better way to put it. Lou wasn't a lesbian, she knew that for a fact. But it was Michel's feminine anima that fascinated her so much.

Lou's eyes teared up as they hopped into bed for the first time. The good food and heavy red wine helped a lot, but she had already made up her mind before dinner. Now Michel stood naked in front of the bed, just like her. Her first glance convinced her that he had a nice cock that could get even bigger in her mouth. Her second glance fell on irritation. Michel had breasts. Small like a girl's breasts, and really very sweet girl's breasts. He already knew the look and jumped into bed unconcerned.

They kissed, they caressed each other, they got to know each other's bodies. She asked and Michel answered, he had already had to explain it a hundred times. He was a man. Grown up as a man, socialized as a man. No one, not even a doctor, could properly explain to him that he had breasts. He knew that he was not a hermaphrodite, his genitals were male, as was his semen. He explained it to himself by saying that he had two animas, male and female. That was how he explained to himself that he didn't have the typical macho demeanor and that he felt like a woman in many small ways, thought like a woman, reacted like a woman. Lou had to think for a long time, and now a lot of things became clear. Her feeling of being like a sister.

She dived down and took his cock in her mouth. "No one gets inside me that I haven't licked clean conscientiously," she said and he smiled. "And the fact that he gets bursting hard is a known side effect?" Michel joked, as he squirted into her mouth. She swallowed his semen with a grin and licked him stiff once more. They kissed, cuddled and sighed until they were both hot. She playfully aroused his breasts, Michel fucked really well and could wait until she clawed at him in orgasm and they joined together, thrusting and jerking. He squirted rhythmically as he thrust and rolled off.

They smoked and talked about the whole thing in whispers. The red wine gone, she said with a soft smile that not many men managed to fuck her to orgasm. That was something they both liked very much. Gradually he also got down to business. He found it especially nice when the woman fucked him. No, it had nothing to do with dominance or submission, it was more a female sensation. Lou understood it immediately. They would take it in turns to share the active and passive role, then they would both have what they needed, what they wanted. And so it was that Lou mounted Michel and fucked him. She didn't orgasm the second time, but that was fine. Michel let himself be fucked wonderfully and squirted for the second time. They whispered for a very long time, but very quietly so as not to disturb the other hotel guests.

For two years Lou traveled, accompanied by Michel, to the places where she gathered material for the dissertation. Michel was an excellent assistant and he could discuss biology with her for hours, manage her samples and read and revise her notes. If he saved up enough money, he would write a dissertation on a similar topic, he said. Lou no longer looked at the divers and colleagues, she didn't need one. Michel was good enough for her and she didn't need anyone else to fuck. She handed in her thesis and prepared herself for a long wait, six months in her experience.

She argued a lot with Michel. She wanted to keep him at all costs, whether as an assistant or whatever. They only briefly touched on the subject of marriage and both shied away like fish that get too close. He didn't want to get married, he had never seen a positive marriage, only big and very big disasters. He had had himself tested for her sake at the beginning of their relationship, he was unable to procreate. He wouldn't be able to start a family, and he couldn't see himself as an adoptive father, that wouldn't be him. There was only the advantage that they didn't have to worry about contraception. No, marriage was nothing for him. She would have taken him any day, they were very well suited to each other and it had already lasted two years.

Then her Papa surprised her, Charlotte gushed the news.

A rich man, Oleg Maschinkoff, had his eye on her. She didn't know him, but he had seen her at a reception at the embassy when she was accompanying her father. Oleg now clung to her father like a limpet. He knew instinctively that he was the one most likely to do it. He promised her father a suitcase full of money if he brought them both together. Even if the princess refused. And father always needed money. So he had Lou come home more often than usual. She had half a year to kill anyway, so why not? That's how she met Oleg.

He wasn't a Russian shaggy bear, but a westernized, educated man, less than 10 years older than her, likeable and sexy. She liked him at first sight, but she kept that to herself. He agreed that she should have him checked out and that she wanted to have her doctorate in hand before she made up her mind, which meant at least 5 months. Michel did the vetting, he was the only one she trusted and he was an ace researcher. She spent a lot of time with Oleg, discussing the most important aspects of her life. He was a Russian oligarch, but the tolerable kind. He had started small back in Putin's days trading in corn, expanded his business to soybeans and then to fertilizers. He was simply a clever businessman, he had no need to enrich himself with crooked or even bad things. He openly admitted that playing hide‐and‐seek with the customs authorities was part of his everyday life, as was the use of bribes and kickbacks and his own intelligence service. He was a criminal in these things, but he didn't see himself as a criminal. Lou smiled, she wasn't expecting an angel, but there were moral boundaries such as murder and manslaughter. He smiled, he wasn't guilty of that, he strictly adhered to those boundaries, without a single exception. He swore to that. He really was filthy rich and when he had seen and observed the princess in the embassy, it had happened to him. He was 36, she was 28 and he wanted to start a family. He wanted a smart, educated woman and if she was also as delightful and pretty as she was, then everything would be fine for him.

She made several things clear to him, both big and small. She didn't want to learn Russian or live in Russia, as they could both speak English well. Live anywhere, but in the "West". She had not forgotten Putin's reign of terror and she was quite sure that Russia needed another 60 or 100 years to become a good country. She wanted to finish her studies successfully and do research or work in marine biology for a while, she didn't want to have children before 35. Then gladly, having children and raising them well was okay in her opinion. She was amazed at how similar her two ideas of raising children were. That was a good thing.

Oleg had recognized Lou's character and the things that were important to her over the many hours. He was now even more determined to win her. He didn't need a sugar‐doll who mainly went shopping and showed off her jewels at parties. A scientist who cared about the environment and the planet appealed to him and fitted in well with his ambition to be recognized as a good and Western‐oriented oligarch. No matter how much she cost him, she was worth it. He cast his line.

He had a ship, a yacht, the Elisée, 76 meters long. Equipped with everything that was available. There was even a helipad, a platform on which he could land his helicopter. It was one of the first ships to be powered by hydrogen. He wanted to convert everything to hydrogen over time — he had already bought all new hydrogen‐powered cars, and 10% of the fleet was already running on hydrogen. He had bought up a hydrogen manufacturer in California and was sure that the business would be profitable in 5 years at the latest. So he had already made the decision to go green two years ago, even before he had fallen in love with Lou. Lou smiled, those were good arrows he had in his quiver.

She was back in Paris. How much she had missed Michel! Her man‐wife, his exciting sex, his closeness! When they caught their breath, Michel reported on his investigations. Oleg was what he said he was. He was filthy rich, one of the thousand richest people in the world. The hydrogen thing was also true. He wasn't involved in anything dirty or criminal, he had graduated from university in Cambridge, England. He had been married in England for 8 months and the marriage was legally divorced. Michel wanted to read out all the dirty laundry about the woman, but Lou waved it off angrily, just the essential facts. She was a pretty barmaid, but she couldn't break away from her vices and was currently serving time for repeated drug offenses. Poor sod! Lou waved it off, enough! She was annoyed that Oleg hadn't mentioned this marriage. Michel understood that.

Lou brought up the subject of marriage. She had to have clarity, because she had to make a decision. Michel said he loved her like never before. But marriage was out of the question for him. He couldn't marry her with a lie just to avoid losing her, that was totally against him. It would just be a selfish lie, it would ruin everything.

Lou had expected a different answer and cried softly. "I don't want to lose you, you're like a little sister to me!" They both laughed, their declaration of love sounded pretty funny. She became serious again. "If I can continue my research, will you stay on as my assistant, since I probably can't offer you a good salary? I'm thinking of tapping my father or the rich stepmother and continuing my research on the octopods on my own account." Michel didn't have to think for long. "I'm in, of course, even if we have to spoon dog food out of a can!" he exclaimed enthusiastically and hugged his lover. They spent a few lovely days together, then Lou went home to her father.

"You got two million from Oleg?" she asked her father with flashing eyes. He squirmed like a worm under the sole of her boots, but admitted it. Stupid Charlotte couldn't keep a secret.

"It was a clean deal," he said, "it was just about getting to know you, even if you end up turning it down." Lou swallowed her anger. Her father was destitute and needed every penny. She put her hand on his arm.

"It's all right, Dad, I'm not angry with you. Oleg is an interesting man, he's worth every penny!" She enquired about the winery and her brothers.

"It's going well again, Bruno and Edward have practically taken it over already and next year they'll officially get it with a notary and so on. I'm handing everything over and going traveling with Charlotte while we're still spry." Lou smiled, Charlotte was not yet 40.

"That's good news, Dad. Even though I think it's more Charlotte's idea, it's a good decision. I hope I'm making a good decision for me too." Lou reluctantly dropped the idea of tapping the father and Charlotte. "And — do I get anything from the winery?" she asked cautiously. The father was puzzled.

"I didn't think you were interested in the vineyard. That's why I hired an appraiser to have them pay you a third in cash. At least that was the plan." Lou reassured him that she thought that was fair and that with cash she would be able to continue her research. The father didn't think twice.

"If you run out of money, come to me. Charlotte and I have some on the high side and I'm sure we can give a little away." Lou hugged him gratefully. "I can't ask Charlotte at the moment, she's in Denmark for a funeral and the inheritance she's getting from that aunt." Lou asked if he would have to sleep alone? He nodded dejectedly and said, "Me and Miss Fist". It took Lou seconds to understand the sad joke. She smiled broadly and calculatingly.

"But Dad, I can sleep with you like I used to!" She slept with him all week, she let herself be fucked like she used to and was very active in the fucking, thinking of the loving way Michel fucked her really hard when she asked him to. The exercise would probably be far too strenuous for her father. Afterwards, she let him watch her masturbate like she used to; he still found it very exciting to sit between her thighs and experience it up close.

Dad had just ridden out, as he did every day at this time, to inspect the vineyard. Charlotte arrived by cab and Lou greeted her. In Charlotte's room, Charlotte changed and Lou waited at the coffee table. Charlotte's diplomatic passport was on the table. She stared at the date of birth. Charlotte was only 36 years old, not 45 as was generally assumed. Charlotte came in and sat down opposite, wearing only a bra. She had noticed Lou's glance at the passport and smiled. "Most women make themselves look younger, but I had to make myself look older or he wouldn't have taken me, and I was and still am madly in love with him, I would have done anything to snag him! He's not the master of fucking, but he has the best character of them all!" She smiled as Lou's eyes feasted on her pussy. That shaved pussy was really nice, thought Lou, who had seen uglier ones. Charlotte's fingers slid over it, exposing the clit completely. It was very nice too, Lou thought and looked up, straight into Charlotte's eyes.

"I'm not a lesbian," she said, "I tried it often enough in my youth, but I'm not into lesbianism." Charlotte nodded and asked.

"Poor thing, he hates sleeping alone." Lou knew full well that was a question.

"Oh, he didn't have to sleep alone at all, I warmed him every night, your husband!" Lou could answer Charlotte's stupid questions just as stupidly. Charlotte nodded.

"I supposed so, yes!" said Charlotte, and the look on her face said that he had told her about the incest. Lou was blushing, more out of anger at his indiscretion than shame. Charlotte continued to gush.

"Don't think anything of it, I spent a few months with my father when my mother was in hospital. There's nothing to it, nothing disgusting."

Lou nodded in agreement and mumbled, "Lots of people do that." Charlotte babbled on.

"My father was horrified when I seduced him. But I was already 14 and desperate to be deflowered, and of course Dad was my everything, my Captain America. I was in charge, he melted like wax in my hands. Of course I had already fucked about 5 boys, but they didn't take my virginity, they had nice little boy dicks that fitted through the hole in my hymen. I often fucked with them and only got the orgasm when masturbating afterwards.

Now I wanted a real cock and my Captain America had a pretty big one, I'd seen it a lot. As a small child, I often stood next to him in the bathroom with my thumb in my mouth, as he wagged his cock and squirted into the sink. The first few days he didn't want to know anything about fucking, a handjob, okay. I always ended the hand job with a blowjob and he was quite taken aback that I swallowed his semen. It was normal for me, nothing special. But on the third or fourth day, I seduced him despite his helpless protests."

Charlotte tugged excitedly at her clit as she recounted. "On the one hand, I was terrified of his big mace with the peach‐shaped glans, which he said many Bernadottes had, but on the other, I was desperate to be fucked by him. He took my virginity so powerfully that I cried out in pain. I was still very young, not even 14, and had a very small, very tight vagina. After he got over that hurdle, we fucked like fools, after school, before dinner, after dinner and half the night. He blossomed, he felt as young as he used to and he could fuck really well quite often. He had given me a taste for orgasm while fucking. Oh yes, the Dad! We fucked each other again and again as long as he lived and thank God my mother didn't mind."

"She was no longer able to fuck after all the operations, he said. Unfortunately, she only lived for a few months, but she was very weak and I washed her ruined pussy every day. She had been operated on x‐times, her ovaries, uterus, labia were full of cancer and had been cut out. Even the foreskin that protected her clitoris had been removed and all the skin over the clitoral shaft had been radically removed. The shaft, 5 or 6 centimeters long, was blood‐red, raw flesh. Only the head of the clitoris had remained intact, it was the size of a fingernail, bright pink and shaped like the tiny glans of a little boy's cock. I washed her pussy with lukewarm camomile tea and rubbed an ointment on the horrible scars.

I stared at the large open hole full of scars that had birthed me and at the finger‐length, obscenely naked clit that grew hard and stiff at my treatment. Groaning with embarrassment, she asked me to relax her clit. Every day I brought her big clit to orgasm and it was the only pleasure she had left. I thought each time how big her clit was like us Bernadottes.

After the first time, she took my face in both hands and kissed me gratefully on the lips. "Thank you, Charly, you're such a good, helpful child and you still take such good care of your dying mother. Take care of Daddy too, you're almost 14 and old enough to fuck, and the poor guy has to cum every day." That was the only thing she said, but to me it was as if she had given her blessing. I wanted to tell her that I'd been letting him fuck for months now, but my throat was tight and I stammered, "and if you let me, I'd love to fuck him!" She just smiled and kissed my forehead, "I rather think he will fuck you!" With that, she gave me her blessing.

In her final weeks, she completely lost her mind. She claimed Dad wasn't her cousin, but her brother. I couldn't believe it, it couldn't be! But she told me her story as if it were true. She had taught him to masturbate and squirt, he learned to masturbate her to orgasm very well. That wasn't enough for her, she was 13 and he was 12 when she let him take her virginity. They fucked every night and only had to be careful when she got her period at around 17. Nevertheless, she got pregnant and then she gave birth to me at 21. By then their parents were no longer alive, because they couldn't live with the shame that nobody knew about and poisoned their evening cocoa. They were helped to forge the papers, and as first cousins they needed the bishop's dispensation and the bishop needed a new church roof. They lived in legal marriage for 14 years and now cancer was eating her up.

Of course I asked Dad, but he laughed at me. Where did I get that nonsense from, and then he said poor mother was dying and hallucinating in agony. It didn't change anything when I interjected that she wasn't afraid of dying. I lay with dad every night and he fucked me until the end, I was 23. He didn't have the testicular cancer operated on and treated, he said he would soon be with mom and yes, he was indeed her brother. A few days later he drank a cognac like every evening, he had sorted everything out and said a very emotional goodbye to me. That night he took poison. He was my dearest and best man!" Charlotte looked up and said with regret, "look how horny those memories made me!" She spread her labia with her fingers and pressed down on the flesh around her clitoris.

"You've got quite a big clit too, almost like my little finger," Lou commented on Charlotte's clit, "like a real Bernadotte!"

"It's a shame you're not up for a bit of lesbianism," Charlotte murmured sadly and tugged desperately at her clit, "I've become so insanely horny and I really need it now!" Charlotte now looked very dejected. Her face brightened as she thought of her beloved and talked about Lou's father.

"Does he watch you masturbate so greedily too?" Lou didn't answer and Charlotte immediately babbled on. "Well, I always sneak a peek at his cock when I masturbate. I always let him sit very close so I can see his cock very clearly. He slowly gets hard, his glans turns dark red and swells up. When I'm really going at it, the semen starts to drip out of his glans and when I orgasm really hard, the semen slowly runs out of the glans in a thin trickle." Charlotte looked at her triumphantly and challengingly.

Lou nodded in agreement and went one better. She lied, "It's similar with me, only at the end it really squirts out of his glans in solid jets!" Lou wanted to go one better, but her father came in, hugged his naked wife and gave her a kiss. "Where does it really squirt out of his glans? I heard something like that when I came in." Lou struggled with herself for a moment, then answered.

"Charlotte and I were just talking about how you really cum when you watch both of us masturbate." Charlotte turned green with anger and diverted to another topic.

"Just think, my darling, my aunt has made me her sole heir! Sole heir! The others were pretty shocked, because she named everyone individually and left him or her some cheap trinket. The TV, the car, the collection of fake Picassos or valuable, well‐worn carpets. I then spoke to the notary in private and he said it would probably be another year before everything was sold, but I can expect at least 130. 130 million! I told him straight away that for every additional million he would get 10% cash in hand, that would spur him on, I could see it in his eyes! I want to go on a trip around the world! Now!" She babbled and babbled on and on.

"Congratulations, dear Charlotte, so I can hope you'll support me and my research financially, because I'll get my PhD in three or four months and then I'll be left penniless on the street." Lou made such a distressed face that Charlotte jumped up, squatted in front of her on her heels and took her head in her hands. She gave Lou a kiss on the lips and said, "Rely on me and your father, little one, we won't let you down!" Lou had been staring at her wide‐open pussy and at Charlotte's stiff clit, which she now kept touching with her fingers. Lou laughed briefly and said "Thank you, dear Charlotte!" because she knew exactly what would follow. And she had won.

Charlotte straightened up and called out, "Come, come, my darling! I really need it, 10 days of just masturbating and no cock far and wide, except maybe little Arne, but he's still a child. He thrusts and squirts quite well, but of course he couldn't know how to fuck a grown woman properly yet!" Charlotte tore and tugged openly and shamelessly at her clit. "Arne may still be at high school, but he's got a big cock like a big man. I've painstakingly taught him to thrust slowly and at the right angle and to hold back the squirting until I've reached orgasm. But as soon as my pussy started to pound him hard in orgasm, the poor guy had to squirt immediately. He was very surprised when he had learned to do it properly with me and told me that he had only ever fucked the fat Finnish cook and she had always urged him to hurry and cum quickly. He was allowed to come and fuck her at any time, whether 3 or 6 times a day. But always quickly, quickly and secretly in the pantry! She also never masturbated when he had fucked her. I wasn't completely dissatisfied with the little one! — So come on now!" Charlotte exclaimed and pranced out into the bedroom.

Lou smiled at her father. "Not a cock in sight, just little Arne!" grinned Lou with a smile. Now her father had to laugh, because "no one is safe from Charlotte's lechery, whether it's a little boy or a grandfather, it doesn't matter, a girl or the fat cook, it doesn't matter either!" Laughing, he followed his wife.

Lou typed for 14 days on an article that was to be no longer than 10 pages and in which she wanted to present her dissertation to the scientific public. She had a hell of a time shortening the text, because if she didn't do it herself, the publisher would. Michel read through the work twice a day, crossing out and scribbling. He had been taking on more lessons for months to fill his coffers. Oleg called at the same time as always.

They talked about this and that, she talked about her article and he talked about new business. Neither had a deeper insight into the other's work, it was just a matter of listening to the other and hearing their voice. Before he hung up, he had two questions.

"Do you have a passport, Princess Maria Louise?" Of course she had one, a valid one of course. "Secondly, can you take this weekend off?" Lou replied without hesitation. He gave her the exact time when she would be picked up in the private area in Le Bourget. All she had to do was tell reception that she was waiting for his jet. "Well, see you Saturday morning!" He hung up before she peppered him with questions.

Michel accompanied her to the airport by bus. He just wanted to make sure she was picked up. Of course, he made a note of the jet's identifier so he could follow it via the Internet. The receptionist went into an adjoining room and brought a pilot with him. He copied her passport, was assured that there was nothing to declare in her travel bag, then she followed the pilot carrying her bag. "Please, follow me, Princess von Hohenlahnstein," he said in English and went ahead. It was her first time flying in a private jet, there were two pilots and a steward. She was the only passenger. She had an orange juice with ice and half an hour later they had arrived. The pilot took her to a luxury Mercedes, there was no customs or passport control. She asked where they were going, but the chauffeur didn't understand her poor Italian, so she asked in English. "Brindisi, ma'm" said the driver, he seemed to be American. Apparently he wasn't very talkative or he had an order, at any rate he raised the separation glass. She sent a message to Michel. "Well landed, Brindisi, Italy" and he replied by return of post, "I saw it, enjoy! M."

In the port of Brindisi, the silent chauffeur handed her over to two white‐uniformed sailors. "Please, Princess von Hohenlahnstein, get in," one of them commanded and she boarded the comfortable longboat. It went out, around the harbour, where a beautiful white yacht was anchored, she recognized it immediately. Oleg's yacht.

She stepped off the longboat onto the bathing platform, and Oleg quickly came down a flight of stairs. They greeted each other, they kissed. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"Look, this could be your new home, your new workplace!" Oleg was almost bursting with pride. Lou nodded appreciatively and turned to pick up her travel bag, but it wasn't there. "They put your bag in your cabin," Oleg said with a grin, "I hope you were well looked after on the jet and in the car!" Oleg scratched his head, as he always did when he had to put something complicated simply. "Pretend it was all yours already and let yourself be served, I pay my people well and in return they serve me fine, they serve us fine. Okay?" Lou nodded and asked cheekily, "Do you serve me too, even though I've never paid you?" Oleg grinned his winning boyish smile. "How can I serve you?" he asked kindly and she said she wanted to sit in the shade and drink a cold orange juice. Oleg laughed, picked up his walkie‐talkie and said a few words, then escorted her to a comfortable seating area in the shade of the helipad.

They drank their orange juice and Lou gazed out to sea. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that he wanted her to live on this beautiful yacht. She thought three steps ahead. She never wanted to tell Oleg about the incest with her father, why should she? It was annoying enough that the blabbermouth Charlotte knew about it. And she didn't want to tell him anything about Michel either, or only the bare minimum; she had to solve the Michel issue somehow, perhaps as an assistant? Oleg suggested showing her around the ship.

The tour took almost three hours, but she had seen everything. She was particularly impressed by the bridge, as she had a French small skipper's license and knew her way around most of the equipment. Everything was solid and top quality. The yacht was designed as a pleasure craft, with lots of guest cabins, the garage full of toys such as jet skis, two smaller excursion boats and, of course, the large longboat. Only the jet skis had gasoline engines, everything else ran on hydrogen. Refueling hydrogen was not an easy task and had to be well planned. You could cross the Atlantic on one refueling, which was quite a decent range. Oleg mentioned that he was just about to enter the hydrogen market in a bigger and stronger way, it was a promising market and a good climate thing at the same time. Lou nodded in agreement.

Surely deserving of an appreciative look, she quickly ducked out of the kitchen, "I'm not much of a cook," she said to Oleg. She was more interested in the crew quarters, she had often lived in them on her expeditions. She then wanted to see the female crew's quarters and for the first time Oleg was at a loss for words. "The women get the same salary as the men, do the same work and sleep in the same room." Lou was really surprised now and Oleg laughed softly, because she wasn't prepared for that. "What goes on here is none of my business!"

She sat on the aft deck with Oleg again, it was a beautiful view. He asked how she would arrange things if she lived and worked on the yacht for a long time. She thought carefully about what she said, as he made notes on his smartphone. First of all, she would set up the aft‐facing large room, which was now a lounge with TVs and a magnificent 270° glass front, as a bedroom so that she could fall asleep with a view of the sea and the stars like a real princess. All in white, with a large double bed, walk‐in wardrobe and a shower plus toilet. No, she rarely bathed, but she showered every evening. A small dressing table in the rounded corners, as she probably had to pay more attention to her appearance as a wife. In the other corner, a small reading and writing desk. Oleg took notes and nodded, "All doable." Behind the walk‐in wardrobe was the cubicle for her assistant; they lived in an apartment in Paris, which was very conducive to spontaneous work. Oleg wanted to ask something, but she didn't want to answer it, she still had to think about it. Three or four guest cubicles had to make way for a workstation, actually a laboratory. Lou rummaged in her handbag, "I always carry a piece of paper around with me, where I've been writing down for years what I'll need for my lab once I win the lottery and can afford my own lab." She held up the frayed piece of paper triumphantly. "The only thing I haven't entered yet is for the DNA sequencer, because every month an even better, even better model comes out that will make your laundry even whiter, dear housewife!" Oleg laughed, "I know what you mean." He photographed the note several times and muttered, "I'm amazed you play the lottery!" Lou smiled delicately, "that was just a phrase, I've never played!" Oleg nodded, he would have been very surprised too, he muttered. Lou also mentioned that the university secretariat was very knowledgeable about laboratory equipment and that she would definitely contact them before making a purchase. She rejoiced inwardly because Cinderella had found her prince. Completely surprised, she gave Oleg a kiss on the lips. Her prince.

After dinner, grilled fish with red wine, they sat for a long time. She told him about her expeditions, where they had crashed their helicopter on an uninhabited island. The pilot was a stone‐cold dog, while the passengers tumbled around and screamed in agony, he landed upright in knee‐deep water, took the cigarette out of his mouth and just asked: "Are you all right back there?" That was a very bad experience and she hasn't liked getting on a helicopter since. Oleg asked if she still knew the name of the pilot, but she shook her head, she had certainly written it down in her report in Paris. "Should I send it to you?" she asked in astonishment and Oleg nodded, "You have to hire good people because you can only work with good people." Lou nodded; it was the same with her assistant. He was still working on his doctorate, but he had already been teaching at the university for two years and was an incredibly capable fellow. And the two of them could do more together than three other scientists. Oleg asked for the hundredth time what their discipline was. Marine biology, Lou grumbled angrily, but he waved it off, that wasn't the question. What exactly?

"Ah, I see. Octopods, i.e. cephalopods, eight‐armed octopuses and cuttlefish, they're pretty closely related. There are hardly 10 scientists in the world who understand more about the subject than I do, although several thousand are doing research." Oleg nodded, he liked that, Olympus or nothing. A nice motto.

"Did you notice there's 10 or more pieces of diving equipment in the garage, a small workshop and an air compressor?" Lou nodded affirmatively, that was the first thing that had caught her eye. She was hardly interested in the other toys. Jet skis, water skis, paragliders. That's for rich vacationing kids. The three small inflatable boats were the second thing she saw, she needed them for work. Oleg poured orange soda and thought about it.

"You mentioned your assistant, does he have a name?" Lou answered immediately, any delay was wrong.

"Michel, his name is Michel and he's two years younger than me." She had to think for a moment what Michel's surname was, Michel de la Tour, and gave his date of birth. "You should have him checked out thoroughly, because if someone is working so closely with your wife, I'd want to know all about him."

Oleg said, "I was actually going to ask you if you were having sex with Michel, but you said something much more important. My wife?"

Lou nodded in agreement and thought carefully about what she was telling him. "You heard me right, I've made up my mind, and I didn't make it easy for myself. But I want to wait until I have the document in my hand. Yes, I would like to become your wife and have children with you later. And if I have to, then until death do us part. Speaking of which, with a marriage contract of course, where the children and I are properly provided for, if a horny Katyushka or an even hornier Natasha runs over your loins and I'm decommissioned." Lou smiled and grinned.

Oleg was completely flabbergasted. "We're sitting in the armchair, drinking orange soda as befits our status, and you propose. No champagne, no Mexican mariachis, no genuflection and no diamond ring. It's going to be an exciting marriage and I can't wait to see what's in store for me. But as I'm sure you've already noticed, I'll accept the proposal unless the prenup is lousy." They both laughed and sealed the engagement with a long kiss.

There were a thousand things to discuss, but Lou suddenly paused. "I didn't answer your penultimate question. I don't have sex with Michel, well not real sex, fucking and stuff. We live together like husband and wife, that's what our neighbors would call it. We sleep in the same bed and we almost had sex the first time, but we've never had sex, never fucked."

"Is he gay?" asked Oleg, because that was the most obvious thing to say.

"No, he's not, he's a man. We sleep together naked, but we don't fuck. Maybe it's better for our cooperation if we don't fuck each other, don't you think?"

Oleg nodded thoughtfully, "Never fuck in your own company, that's an iron rule."

"A rusty rule," Lou hissed, "there are thousands of rule‐breakers!" She was annoyed because she didn't want to tell him the full truth.

"We sleep together naked," she continued resolutely, "we see or feel when one of us masturbates, we don't make a secret of it. Sometimes one of us gives the other a handjob, when it suits. We don't fuck because he's .... a hermaphrodite." Lou breathed a sigh of relief, that was out now.

"A ladyboy, you mean to say?" Oleg stated, but Lou shook her head vigorously.

"Not a ladyboy. Michel is a man and a woman, and he's not a man nor a woman. And I'm not a lesbian, by the way, I found out when I was young. He's a man with a cock, real testicles and he can squirt really well, but he's incapable of procreation like all hermaphrodites, whereas ladyboys can have children. At the same time, he has breasts, real breasts, nice breasts. And he has different feelings, male and female. — It's complicated." Lou was glad to have resolved the issue with Michel. Lying when absolutely necessary, but as close to the truth as possible, was the best strategy.

But Oleg shook his head, "No, it's not complicated. I can't feel it myself, but I can understand it very well. Mother Nature has a few surprises up her sleeve. But that's not between us. You're my wife and he's not your husband, not your lover. I can live with that." Oleg grinned, "We actually still have a lot to talk about. Small wedding, big wedding? In Paris or St. Petersburg? Buddhist or Hindu?"

"Oleg, Oleg! What are you talking about? We're both Catholics, at least on paper, and I've already told you several times that I won't set foot on Russian soil as long as it's run by a blood‐stained dictator. Paris would be an option, but if I want to make my father happy, it would be in Leipzig at St. Trinitatis, where the Hohenlahnsteins have been married for centuries, including him. But that's just a tradition, we can get married anywhere in Europe. And of course only a small wedding with 7 or 8 on my side."

Oleg smiled his boyish smile. "Leipzig sounds good, also in terms of me marrying a real, genuine princess. I can't say now, my parents and big sister are coming for sure. I told you that my sister taught me how to fuck and that we fucked for years, didn't I? But not a word to my parents, they'd be dead shocked! I don't know yet how many of my relatives and friends will be able to get a visa and take part. Making your father happy is good, it's also good for my CV with the princess thing etcetera."

Lou interrupted him rudely. "Your second wedding, next time don't forget to mention the first one on your CV, you scoundrel!" Oleg ducked his head, but he could see that Lou wasn't angry with him. "A youthful folly, nothing more. I was lonely, I drank in the bar and the barmaid batted her eyes and wiggled her gorgeous ass. I didn't give it much thought back then. After three months, the air was out and I pulled the ripcord." Lou looked at him sternly, "it was eight months, darling, eight!" Oleg opened his eyes wide.

"Well researched, damn it! I left after 3 months and the divorce took 5 months. Still, it was a stupid thing to do and I've long since buried it in the sands of the past. But, credit where credit is due, I haven't forgotten how great fucking her was for a long time." Lou interjected that she hadn't gotten off drugs and was currently in prison. Oleg nodded, there was nothing he could do about it, she was doomed, a lost soul.

They sat next to each other in silence for ten minutes. Lou interrupted the silence.

"I don't know if I won't fuck Michel one day. No, I'm not a slut and I won't sleep with another man after the wedding. But in Paris, when I didn't have a lover, I was often on the fence about fucking Michel. The fact that hermaphrodites can't father children is another rung on the ladder that leads me to fucking. I am a scientist and objective enough to know that one day I will give in to my urges and fuck Michel whether he wants to or not. I'm telling you this because from now on you are and will remain the number one in my heart. Together with Michel, you are one of the two men to whom I have revealed that I have been masturbating every night before going to sleep since kindergarten. It's something very private, I don't peddle it. Only a few people knew about it, my mother for example, but she is dead. I give you this important place in my heart because I want to belong to you, skin and hair, just as you belong to me."

Oleg scratched his head, a sure sign that he needed to express something complicated simply. "God knows I wasn't one to be a costumier, especially in Russia it's common for parties to include prostitutes. But now that I'm married, no one will look at me the wrong way if I don't fuck the women. And I want to be a role model for my children, I can promise you that!"

Lou looked at him calmly. "Kids, when I'm 35, not before. You know that from the start, and it stays that way."

Oleg nodded, "We agreed that months ago, it stays that way. That's clear." Once again, it was Lou who interrupted the long silence.

"Do you think there's champagne in this brothel?" Oleg looked up in astonishment and barked into his walkie‐talkie. Lou said she rarely drank alcohol, but today there had been a marriage proposal and it had been accepted by the dearest man she had ever met. They clinked glasses and kissed, then drank champagne in small sips. Oleg could drink like a horse, but he was by no means a real drinker. Lou still had something on her mind.

"I didn't hear your crew talking, are they all mute?" Of course she knew no one was mute. Oleg stretched his answer. "The captain and his first mate are Italian, for desperation's sake. But I've been looking for them for weeks, they're no good. The two cooks are from France, they're very good and I see no reason to replace them. You liked the food, my dear, didn't you?" Lou nodded in agreement, now came the difficult part. Oleg scratched his head. "The others only speak Russian, they're hand‐picked and very good at their job. The Russian women are sometimes with this one and then with that one, but they take care of the boys' sexual relaxation, the steam has to come out of the boiler. As far as I've heard, nobody minded if she let the others blow off steam after one of them. It keeps the boiler quiet and there's no arguments or intrigues." He lapsed into dull brooding. Lou gave him a long time. Then she continued speaking.

"You know my attitude to Russia, and the idea of living with two dozen dumb fish who don't understand my words and whom I don't understand is simply depressing. I'm aware that it's undoubtedly racist, but I would find that very depressing." Lou gave him time and remained silent. He sat up, he had made a decision. "Especially in bad times, it's hard to get reliable professionals. They're not just musclemen handling ropes. Every one of them is an engineer, a carpenter, a plastics expert or an engine specialist. It will be quite difficult to replace them. But I'll make sure that everyone can speak to you in English and that no one speaks to you in Russian. Unless he swears, and then it's better if you don't understand everything. We Russians can swear, damn well we can!" They exchanged a look and the matter was settled.

"Something I have to ask you, why not now?" She paused a little and Oleg assumed she was trying to phrase the question carefully. "I'm asking you how clean your hands are, how clean your conscience is. How can you be clean, doesn't the Kremlin, doesn't the dictator have you in his bloody clutches?" Oleg's ears pricked up, and she knew it only happened when he walked blindfolded over a precipice. He turned to her, took her face in his hands and said, "Short version: clean." He let go of her face and reached for the champagne. He sipped and gave her the long version.

"First of all, I am first and foremost a merchant, a trader, a producer. I do good business, I buy cheap and sell expensive. It's as simple as that. I don't torture and beat people to take their savings, I don't beat and murder, I don't allow beatings and murders. That's what criminals do and I'm not a criminal. I didn't get rich through murder and manslaughter like some others. I'm a very good businessman, I studied at Oxford and Cambridge. My studies actually only got me a Master's degree and that alone impresses an incredible number of people. But the essentials are in my blood. I have a good head for business and it rarely deceives me. What's more, I'm very quick on the uptake! Others are still eating their breakfast eggs and I've already bought. I have no enemies who want to kill me. My bodyguards are only there to convince the world of my importance. When you drive up with 5 armored cars and a squad of armed men, everyone throws themselves in the sand and lays out the red carpet. The really dangerous types accept you as an equal, that's the best life insurance. The only thing I can be accused of is not being a mild benefactor. If someone puts his company on the cliff, I won't support him. He has already run it into the sand, I don't help him charitably because he can't get his ship afloat again. If his business seems salvageable to me and I become interested, I buy it and make a lot of money. Some people accuse me of being ruthless and harsh. But that's not my fault, I'm a businessman and not a benefactor. That said, I'll answer your question now." He sipped from his glass and lit a cigarette.

"The Kremlin, the dictator, that's the big gluttonous cat, I'm just a little mouse and make myself invisible as best I can. I pay my share to those in power without a murmur. I don't object when they increase the percentage. I never make the slightest noise about what those in power do, what stupid things politicians do. I am far too small and insignificant to start a revolution. Nobody would benefit from me voicing two criticisms out loud and serving my 25 years in the gulag. Yes, I am no hero. I have taken a very close look at what happened after so‐called successful revolutions. After a very short time, the great heroes were the same great cashiers as those they overthrew. No, I see it clearly, a dictatorship can only be ended by a revolution, and the revolutionaries are then the new masters, some even worse than their predecessors. Dictator Lenin died and Stalin putsched his way to power. Was dictator Stalin even a whit better than Lenin? No, he was wading knee‐deep in blood and everyone was ordered to love him, the good father." Oleg looked at Lou, but she listened intently.

"I'm the little mouse and I'm hiding from the bad cat. I'm no hero, no poster boy, I'm invisible. Many oligarchs swarm around the dictator, but I know what happens to the moth that swarms around the light. I don't show up because I pay my taxes and give the bloody cat what it wants. I am invisible. I've never met the dictator or one of his lackeys in person, never shaken their paw, I'm not in any photos or on TV. I let people call me a coward because I don't say a word about the dictatorship. But I am a coward who lives in freedom. Inside, I'm more English, French or German than Russian. My homeland has allowed itself to be led into the Rue de la Caque, but the treasure of gold coins never trickled down to the little people. One day I will give back my Russian passport and my citizenship. You will see it by my side." Oleg poured them both a glass of champagne and said, "I get 25 years for this conversation." They clinked glasses, kissed and sipped the champagne.

"I thank you for your candor and lock your words in my heart. I'll remember those 25 years gulag." She turned to him and gave him a long kiss, then leaned back.

Lou gazed out at the pitch‐black sea and up at the stars. "You did mention your sister once in passing, but not a single detail. You didn't even mention that you fucked." Lou smiled and waited. Oleg drank slowly. "Always being honest and telling the truth is one of the pillars of the relationship. The reason I didn't mention about my sister was because it didn't fit the image of the white knight on the white horse, and I always wanted to really impress you."

"I was jealous of my big sister when she masturbated at night with abandon and lust. It took me a long time to ask her that I wanted it as well as she did. She responded very sweetly and made me squirt for the first time in my life, it was great! I was later allowed to lie down with her, she masturbated a lot and I squirted. It wasn't long before she showed me how to fuck, because that's how you make babies. Of course, we didn't want a baby and didn't fuck on some days."

"When I got older, she taught me to wait until she'd had her orgasm before squirting and only then could I romp and squirt in her pussy. When I was 18 and went to university, she moved in with her boyfriend and we didn't fuck until a year later, when she had sent the boyfriend packing. We fuck sometimes because we're good at it together and we kind of love each other a lot. She's married to a strange guy now, but sometimes she comes to me because our fucking is special for both of us. We last fucked 14 days ago, but I'm going to cancel her now because I'm marrying you." Oleg's eyes were wet and he angrily threw the empty glass out into the sea.

Lou put an arm around his shoulder and leaned her head against him. "No, Oleg, that doesn't seem right to me. For one thing, I'm not in favor of open marriage, I think it's a stupid zeitgeist‐fashion, man and woman belong together and not to many other faceless larvae. I'm attached to my Michel, you're attached to Tanja. And they are both attached to us. It would serve no one if we tore them from our hearts just to follow an artificially created idea of marital fidelity. I'm telling you explicitly that I approve of you lying with Tanja when you're fucking, love deep in your hearts. Before I lie alone in my double bed, I let Michel lie with me. We haven't fucked yet, but I'm happy when he lies with me like my little sister or when we satisfy each other. That's my honest opinion." Oleg bent down to get himself another glass, then he poured awkwardly. Lou saw the tears in his eyes.

"Tell me, Mr. Maschinkoff, do you have some condoms ready?" She leaned against him and drank her glass of champagne in one go. "I'm going to bed, second cabin on the left from here. Don't keep me waiting too long!" She stood up swaying and left.

Two days later, she came home in a cab, threw her travel bag into the corner and hugged Michel. "We're getting married, Michel, we're getting married!" Michel froze and shook his head. She noticed his confusion. "No, silly girl, it's not us getting married, it's Oleg and me. I've made up my mind!" She quickly peeled out of her clothes and threw herself on the bed. "Come to fuck, little sister, come! I need it now urgently!" They fucked for so long and so often until they were completely out of breath. Then she lit two cigarettes and reported everything. She hadn't had to write anything down, she remembered every word.

Lou discussed his future with him. He could, of course, stay here, teach at the university and work on his doctoral thesis. But he could give it up and live on the yacht with her as an assistant, do research and work on his doctoral thesis; there was internet on board. It was going too fast for him, he loved teaching, the university and the small, young female students. He cleared his throat, he wanted to sleep on it for a night and decide tomorrow. Lou nodded because she understood, but was a little miffed because he wasn't going over with flying colors. "And of course we'll sleep together when Oleg isn't there," she threw the last trump card on the table, "with appropriate secrecy, of course!" Lou saw immediately that he had made up his mind. "Do I get paid to be your assistant?" he asked after taking a deep drag from his joint. Lou beamed and said that Oleg was researching whether they should set up an association or an institute where they would both be employed; she had convinced Oleg that she needed Michel. The man, the girl and the scientist. She would pay him a good salary and support him with his doctoral thesis. Michel rolled another joint and after a few puffs he said he wanted to go with her, even if he had to do without the cute little beginners. Lou gave him a friendly bump and muttered, "You're a little piglet, my love!"

She had her doctorate, Oleg had organized a lavish wedding at St. Trinity's, accommodating his relatives and throwing the party for her 10 and his 170 guests. "A small, modest wedding," he grinned cheekily when Lou realized that 200 people were coming. Oleg got to know her little family and Michel, and Michel and he hit it off straight away. She got to know his dear, modest parents. The father was a bigwig in the administration until he retired and the dictator (he said president) had worked there for a while too, but the father didn't think much of the president. Lou was able to gossip with Oleg's sister Tanja for almost two hours. She found the 40‐year‐old very likeable and they whispered a lot about sex. She said hello to Oleg's other relatives and friends, but she couldn't remember everyone later.

From Leipzig, they flew to the Caribbean for a 14‐day honeymoon in the Dominican Republic. He had recently bought the summer residence of a former dictator, Trujillo, and had it renovated. A few rooms had been made ready for occupancy, the palace was secluded on a rocky plateau a good 20 meters above the sea. The city of Santo Domingo was only 20 minutes away by car. He could imagine spending his retirement there, Oleg said, but it was just an idea at first.

Lou liked the palace, even though most of it was still a building site. They were alone, the work interrupted. Two local young girls took care of everything, just like in a hotel, and left in the afternoon. Most evenings they went into town to dine sumptuously in restaurant after restaurant and visit the bars.

Oleg had placed a small wooden box on the bedside table and opened it with a grin. "100 condoms, my darling, we'll work them off!" They laughed heartily and set to work immediately. Early in the morning, when Lou was still asleep, he sat in front of his laptop in his shirt and tie, talking on the phone or taking part in video conferences. Those were the two hours when he took care of his business, after that he was no longer available, he was just there for Lou. They drove down to the beach in an electric golf cart, he had a fridge installed, that was all they needed.

Lou was a scientist, but she wanted to get to know her husband's business a little, perhaps even understand it. He was excited to give her clear and exciting lectures, he even had a whole bunch of charts that he projected onto the wall with the beamer. Gradually Lou grasped the big picture, had details explained to him and saw that he was gradually moving west. He marked all the areas that were firmly anchored in Russia and showed her how many of them he had already shed, mostly with little or no loss. "If there was a single person in the Kremlin who could see further than the tips of his shoes, they'd have recognized my drop long ago," Oleg said seriously and with a vague regret, "but no dictator lets his people think, that's a threat." He stared out into the rain. "I'm still attached to this poor, run‐down country with my heart and soul, damn it." Lou said quietly that she could well understand.

Oleg was a good man, even when it came to sex. He didn't mind using a condom at all, they had discussed it that way. He could fuck three times a day, but he brought Lou to orgasm almost every time. Of course, she knew that it was mostly up to her, mostly to do with her activity to reach orgasm. But she was really happy with her husband. They were a very good match sexually, intellectually and emotionally. She never noticed that he was Russian. He was Western through and through, a European.

She packed her belongings in Paris into two large wooden boxes, which were collected and taken to the yacht. She said goodbye to Michel, who had resigned from the university at the end of the semester and wouldn't be joining her for another two months. She flew to the yacht, where Oleg was already waiting for her. He introduced her to the new captain, the first mate and the boatswain, who was the second mate and the foreman, so to speak, and the crew understood him directly.

Oleg introduced Captain Smith, a stocky man in his mid‐50s from Scotland. He seemed very likeable, he had over 30 years of professional experience, almost 20 of them as a captain. Captain Smith smiled mildly when Lou said she knew the name. "Neither relatives nor friends," smiled the captain, "and we won't ram an iceberg with this well‐equipped yacht!" He added that he heard this joke all the time, but of course he didn't mind. And that Smith was a Brit, but he was a proud Scot. Lou realized that she had found a chink in his character.

Lou rummaged in her memory as to why the First Officer looked so familiar, he and Oleg were grinning cheekily and mischievously. Then she remembered, Leipzig! "I know you from the wedding," he confirmed. Misha was not related to Oleg by blood, but his father had worked for Oleg and Oleg had paid for his and his sisters' education. He had graduated from the naval academy in St. Petersburg and earned his captain's license, having worked for Captain Smith for almost a year. Oleg interjected that Misha was the only Russian on the ship and spoke five languages, including German.

The crew consisted of English, Scots, Welsh and Irish, all of whom had worked under Captain Smith before. There were also three Dutchmen who had been taken on on the recommendation of the boatswain. 6 French women, the two cooks Florence and Mimi she already knew, the others were crew like the men. One of the Frenchwomen and two Englishmen were trained as paramedics, so there was no need for a ship's doctor.

The third officer, the boatswain, was a frowning, sharp‐eyed, gray‐blond Dutchman. It was hard to imagine anyone daring to contradict the tall, lean man. Dirk also had a captain's license, of course, but he was happy to take over as boatswain. Lou realized that he needed time to thaw out and she also liked him.

She thanked Oleg for his excellent selection in front of the three men so that it was clear that she had wanted the new crew. Captain Smith did the talking. He was the main person responsible for the ship and the people, so he always had the final say. Of course he would try to fulfill all the Princess's wishes if it was possible. He shared the duty on the bridge with the other two officers, who then took over responsibility on his behalf. The entire crew was obliged to serve the princess; she was to communicate her wishes directly to the crew or tell the boatswain or him, of course. Everything that was necessary would be carried out. The master — he pointed his hand at Oleg — the master had ordered that the princess was to be accompanied by two crews when going ashore, on expeditions or dives, and that they were responsible for her safety. Did the princess have any questions?

Lou nodded, she did. She wanted her quarters and the assistant's cleaned daily like a hotel room when she was done with breakfast and morning exercise. In the lab, she only needed to clean the floor, everything else she cleaned herself or her assistant. She wanted this area, i.e. the bedroom and laboratory, to be strictly off‐limits to the crew; it was her private area. She looked at the captain, who was taking notes and waited until he was ready. Lou wanted to take part in the route planning, she had good access to information on which sea areas were of particular interest to her. Captain Smith nodded and said, okay, sure. She had been traveling the world's oceans as a passenger for years and knew how to behave accordingly. The captain wrote nothing, nodding in agreement.

She had an idea, roughly at least, and wanted their opinion on it. She wanted to have dinner every evening in a small circle. She and her husband or the assistant, two officers, and two men and two women, alternating. They wanted to talk and get to know each other in a civilized setting. And of course some good food. It might be unusual, it might even break some rules, but that she didn't know. She looked around and waited.

Captain Smith said it was indeed unusual. He had never heard of it being practiced on a ship, except by 17th century pirates. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with it, but he would suggest that, firstly, people should come to table in uniform and, secondly, that alcohol should only be served in moderation. Lou interrupted him, saying that she didn't drink much alcohol herself and wanted to leave it to the officers. He nodded. It's clear that weather and sea conditions will be taken into account anyway. He looked at the master, Oleg, and the two officers, who all nodded in agreement. Oleg interjected that a good meal should include soft music, a cognac or vodka and a cigar at the end. Lou smiled finely, she would fit in. The captain looked around again, then noted that they would try it tomorrow evening.

Lou told the boatswain that she also needed a walkie‐talkie like the others. Dirk smiled, that's okay. Lou went down to the aft deck with Oleg and she asked if everything was right? He nodded, he had been surprised about the joint dinners, but it was a great idea. "What the captain wanted to say with the uniforms was that you should keep the right distance, you can't play solidarity with subordinates. A crew member can't sit on the captain's lap, at least not in public. He wanted to make that clear." Lou nodded, "You leaned that in business, I guess." Oleg nodded, "That's right. When the crew show up in uniform, they have to behave themselves, without any extra emphasis."

Lou had something else on her mind, but she waited as two nice girls served up dinner. "It makes sense to me that someone should accompany me on the expeditions and dives, I would never dive alone, that would be madness. But company on shore leave? Do you no longer trust me or am I a prisoner?" Oleg's fork stuck in his mouth. "Prisoner!" he exclaimed. "For God's sake! I know a few havens too and I don't want to see you in a situation where you have to use karate, kung fu or witch spells to bite your way out of a situation." Lou put down her fork, she was annoyed. She had been on shore leave alone a hundred times and had never been in a "situation". Oleg could read her mind.

"Very well, let's forget my fear for you, you turned 25 even without my stupid protective instincts." "Twenty‐nine," she grumbled, "twenty‐nine!" Oleg refused to be distracted. "Remember what I said about my bodyguards. It's the same thing. The crook or the petty criminal will look at a woman wandering alone quite differently than a woman accompanied by two men in uniform. You will certainly be served as a lady, in the coffee house as well as when shopping. I want you to be treated unequivocally as a lady, and I don't want to pay a ransom for you. If the kidnapping in the area where you are has a real background, I'll send you real bodyguards, for sure!"

Lou understood. She was no longer a student or a backpacker, not since Leipzig. She was the wife of a tycoon, and that changed everything. "Everyone on the yacht calls me princess, I suppose that's the way it should be. You must have ordered it that way!" Oleg looked her in the eye. "You're a princess, a real one, even if your father isn't a king. You were born with the title. I wanted a princess, that is right and true. If it bothers you, I'll give other orders. What should they call you, Dottoressa, Signora or Miss Maschinkoff? Maschinkova, that's right. Or will a "Hey!" or "Doll or Poppet" suffice?" Oleg sounded very bitter. She had no idea how deep that went into his feelings.

"Leave it alone, my love! I was only a student girl until Leipzig, I was called Lou or Hohenlahnstein, if it was a professor and even that was unpleasant for me. But I voluntarily became your wife and am no longer a student. I loved marrying you and I have to behave like your wife, your lady, your princess, in public. I'm simply not used to it, please just bear with me. And as for taking back an order, I have read the old Chinese sages carefully. As the old general Zhing ...er, the Tsing Shu... something? said. 'Give the order after one heartbeat, but only take it back after 100!' Something like that. Stay with the princess, I bow my head as my husband and master wishes." She smiled, but Oleg realized that she meant it. He nodded approvingly.

The following day's dinner was a success. Captain Smith sat at the head, Lou beside him and Oleg beside her. She had put on a nice dress, Oleg a suit and tie. Everyone else was dressed in immaculate white uniforms. Even the two servant girls and the cook, Mimi, had put on white aprons and put a little crown in their hair. American bar music, piano and light drums, were playing from the loudspeakers. They ate, drank light white wine and chatted. During the meal, she chatted with the captain, Oleg and Mischa, and after the main course, she joined in the conversation with the two male and two female crew members. After dessert, everyone got a vodka and a cigar, Lou stuck to her cigarettes. Three hours had passed in a flash, Captain Smith picked up the table and they dispersed.

Lou went upstairs with Oleg, they had another coffee on the terrace outside her bedroom and smoked. It was their last night, Oleg had to leave in the morning. They talked about dinner, it was a successful experiment. They fucked with a lot of feeling and passion until Oleg was exhausted. She loved this guy, damn it, she was lucky. That's what was going later through her mind as she masturbated herself to sleep.

In the morning, she got up with Oleg and helped him pack, although he could do it on his own, but it warmed her heart. "Come on, kiss me here, on deck I'll just wave to you!" She waved as his helicopter took off from the helipad. She knew that a small helicopter, a small two‐seater, was better suited to her expeditions than an inflatable boat. She decided to talk to Oleg about it, even though she was scared shitless after the crash landing.

She went to the bridge and consulted with Captain Smith and Mischa. There was a small bay behind the harbor of Santa Maria di Leuca where she had been before. If they anchored there, she would like to do some diving, there was a small coral bank there that was really exceptional and wonderful. The officers studied the nautical charts. Yes, that was possible, if you left today you could do some tests in the water and anchor there tomorrow morning. If they found anything during the tests, the nearest port was Gallipoli with good shipyards and chandlers. Okay, cast off!

Lou watched the crew maneuvering, the boatswain leading the crew with hand signals. No shouting, no hustle and bustle, which amazed her, as she had experienced other things before. She signed off via walkie‐talkie, "I'm in the lab."

The lab, which she had only seen superficially two days ago, was really impressive. The best of the best, in a word. She skimmed the manual for the DNA‐sequencer, which was a very expensive and amazing machine. For example, you could examine the relationships between the octopods, something no one had ever done before. The two large screens were great and the internet connection was fast. She wrote an email to Michel and attached 10 photos of the lab. Oleg, dear Oleg! He had, without it being on her list, bought a professional underwater foto camera and an underwater video camera and put a red gift ribbon on them. "Good start!" he had scribbled on one card, "Take me some great photos of my princess, Monsieur de la Tour!" was written on the other. She sent Oleg a coded message and red hearts‐emojis, grateful to him for thinking along with her.

Michel wrote a cheeky, tongue‐in‐cheek reply. "What, no mass spectrometer! We'll need it when we find gold coins!" "Old childish brat," she wrote back and the sign for winking. Two girls came in with a cleaning trolley.

"I'm already done, I'll go in a minute," Lou said and then told the girls exactly which parts they were allowed to clean and which they were not, never allowed to clean, she must do it herself. She went out onto her terrace, sat down in the shade and smoked. The yacht sailed straight ahead, turning left and right and making a full circle. She had no idea what the captain wanted to test, it wasn't important. She sat in front of the screen for another two hours, had Michel help her transfer her e-mail accounts remotely and wrote to several professional friends. She was amused to be reminded that she had no friends apart from Michel.

Rummaging in her handbag, she wrote a personal email to Tanja, avoiding anything that could be dangerous. Only about the wedding in Leipzig, how Mr. Papa and Mrs. Mama were doing, as they were her parents‐in‐law. She thought carefully and then wrote whether they had annoyed their teachers at school in secret writing and with coded messages? It was common practice in her school days. She babbled on a little, irrelevant and inane. Your sister‐in‐law Lou, Maria Louise von Hohenlahnstein‐Maschinkoff. The secret service was about to get a good impression of the western fools Tanja would understand, because she had advised her to write carefully. As Oleg's sister, she was probably under surveillance.

She woke up at the crack of dawn, the rattling of the anchor chain had woken her up. She got dressed and went up to the bridge. She kept as quiet as a mouse, the two officers mumbled into the radios. After 15 minutes, Mischa and Dirk switched off the radios and looked at her. "The captain not here?" and the two smiled. Dirk said, "He's still asleep, officially. Unofficially, he's pecking at the window with his nose to see if we two greenhorns can manage it." Dirk was almost 60, and certainly no greenhorn. Lou said, "That's not the right bay!" Mischa explained that her bay was no longer an anchorage bay because of the rare corals, the harbor master had allowed them to use this place. Their bay was 15 minutes away. She went for breakfast.

She went to the coral forest the next two days with 2 or 3 companions and took hundreds of photos. The water was crystal clear and she thrived on diving again. On the third day, a storm swept over the sea and she didn't think about going diving. Captain Smith told her, that they would stay put anchored for another two days, as they were in no hurry. On the third day they wanted to continue to Gallipoli, he had ordered some things and they would only anchor briefly outside the town and fetch the spare parts with the dinghy. She asked if she could come along, she had never been to Gallipoli before. The captain nodded, that would be okay. Two hours ashore? She nodded, then I'll eat original Italian food!

That night, she drifted off to sleep after masturbating. She sat up, rustling, someone was tampering with her door! She called out, "Who's there! Who's there!" No answer, then she heard soft footsteps and whisperering, then it moved away. She waited five minutes, then lay down and slept.

She hurriedly ate breakfast, asked the cook Florence for empty pickle jars, there were 3 by 10 liters. Florence was told to fill all 3 with water and take them down to the C‐deck, all the way aft. Then she went up to the bridge.

"Good morning, Captain! I need a revolver right away!" The captain pressed a button, a small hatch opened and he unlocked it with a key. He opened the box. "I don't have a revolver, but I have 12 pistols and 4 assault rifles, etc." She looked inside. "Ah! A Glock 17, I know it well, I carried one of those on the expeditions." She took a magazine, tore open a box of cartridges and loaded it. "And who's the poor man today?" asked Captain Smith, somewhat alarmed, "Three pickle jars, Captain, three innocent pickle jars!" Lou replied angrily, tucking the pistol into her waistband. "And now, Sir, Captain, I request your order that all men line up below on the C‐deck, in ten minutes!"

"What men, Princess?" he asked in astonishment. "All who have a penis, all of them, without exception! I'd be delighted if you'd leave an officer on the bridge, I believe it's a regulation, and I'd be delighted if you'd accompany me as an authority figure and have my back!"

"You don't want to shoot anyone, Princess?" he asked again, but she reassured him, no, my dear, absolutely not! Only innocent pickle jars! He gave his order and repeated it twice. He called Misha up and handed him the bridge. They waited in silence and then went down to the C‐deck. Captain Smith counted off that all the men and some women were there, practically all of them, he whispered near Lou's ear. She pointed to two men and told them to put the pickle jars on the railing. Then she stood in front of the crew, her hand on the pistol grip. She took her time.

"The captain already told you all on the first day, that my private rooms, i.e. the lab, my coworker's cabin and my bedroom are off‐limits to you all, day and night!" She paused and looked from one to the other. "Tonight, one of you disobeyed the order and tampered with my door. Luckily for him, the idiot got away in time. I would have liked to have shot him!"

Lou turned around, aimed with lightning speed and the three pickle jars burst. She turned around again. "My privacy is sacred to me, I'm not some cheap hooker who receives you at night. I'm armed and I'll receive any cheeky bastard with bullets! — Did that get through, is that clear enough!" She stood in front of the crew like a flaming fury. There was a murmur and a nod of the head. Yes, we understood. Only now did she realize that she had threatened the people with the gun. One of them stepped forward sheepishly, a beefy Irishman, one of the engine specialists. He lowered his eyes to the ground. "It was me, Princess, totally drunk, trying to get on Luzi." He twirled his cap nervously in his hands and the girl Luzi turned crimson. Lou ordered him, "Go on, Morgan, and you were just looking for the girl, with me!" "I took the wrong corridor, Princess, but Luzi found me and brought me to the quarters, I was so drunk I almost couldn't hug her ..... She had to direct me like a schoolchild to hug her ....." Some grinned maliciously and gleefully. Lou turned to Dirk. "Boatswain, stand down, get to work!" She stood still with Captain Smith until everyone had gone. They went up to the bridge, Lou unloaded the magazine and went to clean the gun. "Leave it, Princess, we'll do it." He pointed to the second seat and they sat down.

"His name is Mortimer, Mortimer Braidenwith, an Irishman. And — what do you want me to do with him?" he asked. Lou had her answer ready. "Please don't punish him, I accept his explanation." He formulated before he spoke. "Mort is one of my best engineers, he has great experience with hydrogen propulsion and hydrogen engines. I would hate to kick him out. But I also have to make an example for the others. I'm going to cut his wages in half this month. I'll have a few words with him about drinking and with the others too. Everyone can have a drink after their shift, that's okay. But everyone has to stay sober in their free time as well, because if we have to take off unexpectedly and quickly, I need every man! The second time he will be fired!" He spoke to Dirk. "Drunk! That's not on!" He was still thinking. "I don't know, isn't there any medication?" Lou said yes, of course, but you have to see a doctor and a recipe. He nodded with satisfaction, "Next time you go ashore, send him to the doctor and the pharmacy!" Dirk understood the order and nodded.

One of the next days, Luzi passed her as she stood at the railing and she had time for a chat. They were speaking French when Lou identified her accent. "I was just embarrassed that Mort revealed it in front of the whole crew. They all know, they all do it, but I was embarrassed anyway." Lou asked how it worked that way. Luzi answered candidly. "I'm in my eighth semester of medical school in Paris, which costs a lot of money. Even if I only stay on the ship for half a year, I can afford several semesters. Of course I'm on the pill, that's what I was advised at the job interview. I don't have an exclusive lover on board. We can do whatever we want in our free time. If someone wants to fuck, that's fine with me! Usually it doesn't stop at one, but even the sixth or the seventh doesn't bring me to orgasm, I can only do that by masturbating in secret. But I don't do that in front of them, but Florence and Mimi do, they're French."

In astonishment, Lou asked if she wasn't French? "No, I'm from Spain, from Murcia. My name isn't Luzi either, but Lukrezia, Lukrezia Borgia." Amused, she noticed that Lou's eyes widened and Luzi smiled. "Yes, I am one of the many hundreds of Borgias, a genuine descendant of Pope Alexander. For generations, my people have had fun giving the children famous first names. My father's name is Cesare, Cesare Borgia. However, he is not a general like his ancestor, but a gentle taxman who always feels sorry for the black sheep who had gotten a fine." Lou smiled, "We all have our little problems with first names. My name is Maria Louise Amalia, there's a long tradition behind it. I call myself Lou, the other two names are not to my taste. And if I have a daughter one day, I will definitely not call her Maria or Amalia, but something more modern, more contemporary."

They talked for a while about the secrets of the nights. Luzia laughed uproariously when Lou said she had thought Florence and Mimi were a lesbian couple. "All I know is that they both come in and out of our accommodation and fuck the men like the rest of us. They have their own double cabin, but that's just the Master's way of keeping them happy. Lesbian? I didn't notice anything."

Michel's two large wooden crates arrived in Reggio di Calabria, and a week later he was picked up from the train station in Rome by rental car and brought on board by longboat in Ostia. Captain Smith and the two officers greeted the shy Michel in a very friendly manner and gave him a quarter of an hour's briefing. They knew that he was Lou's assistant and co‐worker and Oleg had asked them to treat Michel well.

Lou showed him to his cabin, then to the lab and to her bedroom; there was time for the tour of the whole ship later. They hadn't seen each other for two months and fell into each other's arms. As they sat in bed smoking after fucking, he asked if there had been any problems with his boxes at the customs? She laughed, when Oleg has something transported, customs looks the other way. He breathed a sigh of relief, he had sealed the three kilos of marijuana airtight in four plastic bags (for God, Emperor, Fatherland and Safety) so that he had enough with him. Lou gave him a friendly shove, "You drug smuggler, you!". Michel reported that he had received his contract and was now an employee of the 'Oktopoda Research Institute' in Luxembourg. "Oops," Lou exclaimed, "just like me!" They laughed and Lou said that if Oleg had set it up that way, then it was safe, beneficial and good for them both. She had already received a package of stationery and business cards in Reggio, all dignified and elegant.

Oleg came by helicopter almost every weekend, the loudspeaker blared, "Eagle one approaching, ETA 15 minutes". Lou always changed her clothes and waited for Oleg in discreet elegance at the helipad. They had two days to themselves, Michel sat next to them at dinner. He and Oleg liked each other and one day Lou said, "Oleg, this is Michel, Michel, this is Oleg, my husband, and stop calling each other by surnames!" But it was another six months before Oleg wanted Michel's opinion on taking over a specific company. Michel wasn't a businessman, of course, but he was very well informed about the company's problems and had brilliant common sense. And Oleg listened attentively.

Oleg brought one thing into play. He had originally bought the yacht to spoil his clients or interlocutors a little. The Oktopoda Research occupied less than a third of the ship's capacity. Lou just didn't want to be hindered in her work, that was important to her. But when Oleg promised that his guests would have no influence or say in any matter and that the two corridors would be fitted with proper doors to separate work and private areas, there was really nothing to be said against it, and Captain Smith also agreed. So it happened that in some weeks there was a merry crowd on board. The separation of the two groups went without friction, so that Lou was now able to invite a few scientists as well.

After a year, the relevant academic world knew that Octopoda Research existed and what it did. Lou and Michel published a highly regarded report after a year and a half. They proved that the octopus did not mate indiscriminately. The young males preferred the daughters of aunts, never their own mother or sisters and never strangers from the wild. They drew up family trees based on DNA. This was a breakthrough in research and they wanted to study the octopuses in the same way, as they suspected a similar pattern. Lou and Michel were not yet ready to go to congresses or give lectures, but they usually had one or two scientists who accompanied them on their expeditions and stayed on board for at least a few days.

Oleg could be proud of his wife. Once or twice a year, Lou would squeeze into an evening dress and accompany Oleg to certain occasions. How far removed she was from the glittering world of business‐people, how little she could get out of the chatter and giggles of the fine ladies and those who could never become a fine lady! Many an eyebrow was raised indignantly, when she spoke openly and bluntly about fucking. The astonishment was usually followed by gossip, intrigue and fierce fights among the chickens and geese. Even Oleg heard about it and grinned broadly; his wife was a gem, a one‐off and a devious beast when she reported on the ladies of high society.

Michel had finished and submitted his dissertation. He would travel to Paris for 10 days to complete his doctorate, and his theses still had to be presented and defended in the natural sciences. The Difesio was still taken very seriously in Paris, it was public and there were dozens to hundreds of scientists in the auditorium. Lou hadn't accompanied him, he didn't want her there when the experts tore him apart. He also wanted to fuck all the chicks he had to leave behind. Lou knew that, but left to his own devices, he could very well slay any dragons or chickens. He came back 10 days later and showed her the certificate, his chest swelling with pride.

Lou had explained to Oleg in an appropriate situation that she was fucking Michel. He gazed at the rugged coastline of the Basque country and twirled his drink in his hand for minutes in silence. A hermaphrodite incapable of procreation was no threat to his manhood, Michel was a pathetic guy and devoted to his wife. If she didn't have him, she would be much more desirable and in trouble. He knew very well that Michel wouldn't let a naughty boy get close to her. If he looked at it honestly and empathetically, it was just as well that his loved wife didn't have to live a celibate life. He put the glass down and took her face in both hands. "Is it good for you, my princess?" That was all he wanted to know. "Oh yes, it's good for my soul and my body. Only my conscience is going crazy, it doesn't accept that, what I told you years ago." Lou looked him seriously in the eye, she didn't have a guilty conscience. He let go of her. "I'm damn thankful you didn't run off with a chief mate, a sailor or a helmsman. I am also grateful that the sons of my business partners, who are used to conquering every cunt, complain to their fathers about your aloofness and your cold shoulder to their attempts at flirting. That honors you, you honor me and make me proud. I know you well and I know Michel a little too. I feel the bond between you two very intensely and I refuse to call or see it as cheating. You love him in a completely different way than you love me me, I can feel that too. I can feel that it makes you happy and that's important to me. Hide it as best you can, because the shitty world around us isn't ready for it yet." He continued to look at the coast and sipped his drink. Lou stood next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I can feel how little Russian you are inside, my dearest Wilko." This form of endearment was reserved for rare situations. They rarely mentioned her fucking Michel, him fucking Tanja. It didn't change their relationship or his behavior towards Michel. Michel was now closer to them both than ever.

They had left the Mediterranean and the west coast of the continent, stayed only briefly on the British coasts and spent six months in the north of Scotland, the Shetland and Faroe Islands. Because of the weather and the cold water, few marine biologists came here. But they discovered the richness and diversity of the area. Captain Smith's anchor maneuvers took a little longer here, but the yacht lay as if set in concrete in the water. He took great care not to shake the passengers more than necessary. Oleg's vacationers stayed away and Lou had plenty of scientists on board, up to 18. When the weather was bad, they turned the mess hall into an academic auditorium where opinions, ideas and speculations collided. — Oktopoda Research charged the usual prices to wealthy institutes, while others received large discounts or paid nothing at all.

Lou celebrated her 31st birthday with Oleg, Michel and the whole crew off Shetland, and the next day the six of them sat on the bridge and made concrete plans for the Caribbean.

Misha had been watching Lou for over two years now and the flames of desire burned in his heart. One afternoon, when his duty ended, he took her hand and led her to his quarters. He didn't say a word as he slipped her dress off. She realized that she was not ready to conceive today. She let herself be pulled onto his bunk without resistance and let herself be fucked. He was a mediocre fucker, he took a long time before he came. She left without a word. This was repeated for three days.

After the third time, when she got dressed, she said, "You have a choice now. You never let me come again and I'll forget all about it, you have had your pleasure. Or you go ahead and I have to tell Oleg. Then he'll decide your fate." She waited for his answer. At last he lifted his head tearfully and stammered, "Forgive me for not being able to control myself. It was wrong of me and I regret very much having done this to you, but my heart burns and wants you. I will bear my pain silently and continue to serve you faithfully, Princess!" Misha buried his face in his arms and howled like a castle dog. When he looked up after a few minutes, she had already left. He continued to serve and lowered his eyes so that she could no longer see his misery. It took months, before he was his old self again.

The Caribbean. She was still accompanied by two men in immaculate white uniforms. She dived, researched and wrote in 16‐hours‐days. Time was running out, she had promised Oleg children in 4 years at the latest. She lay in Michel's tender arms and talked to her little sister about the future, the pregnancy and the children. She didn't want to give up the research and considered bringing Oleg's sister Tanja on board. They had kept in touch for two years via an encrypted messenger service that was also used by the Russian underground.

Lou witnessed the disintegration of Tanjas relationship with her husband, the sad ending and the quick divorce. She was of the opinion that nothing could be done about it if her Sasha had fallen for a 15‐year‐old who enchanted and devoured him. Tanja's last job had been as a typist, and now, when her childless marriage broke up, she was supposed to resume her aborted training as a nurse and midwife. Lou spoke to Oleg, whom Tanja had not told, and persuaded him to support Tanja financially and to take more care of her as a brother. Tanya hadn't said anything because she was afraid of scaring him off. But she absolutely didn't want to give him up as a lover. Lou mediated between them and Tanja was able to leave her love‐struck husband. She resumed her training and would get her diploma after a year.

Lou had already prepared Tanja for the fact that there was always a place for a paramedic on the yacht and that she would need her help with the children. She wanted to raise the children bilingually, she had discussed this with Oleg, Russian and English. Tanja could speak both, which was ideal. Perhaps the children would also learn some French from Uncle Michel. All of this had been loosely agreed, no, it had been discussed without obligation. Oleg was informed about everything and was even prouder of his princess.

She had put out feelers and sent Charlotte out into the world with a secret mission. It was to be a birthday present for Oleg. Charlotte was diligent, but Lou was not yet satisfied with the results. Finally, success. She told Oleg a few days before his 40th birthday that he had an appointment at Hanover Town Hall on a certain day. She explained everything to him. An impoverished nobleman was prepared to formally adopt Oleg for good money. Oleg had to renounce his adoptive father's inheritance, but he was ennobled and could call himself Freiherr (Baron) von Sayn‐Battenfeld if he wished. Oleg had tears in his eyes; it was an undeserved medal, but a diamond on his lapel. Lou had not only had classy stationery and business cards made for him, she had dug up everything he needed to know about the Sayn and the Battenfeld noble families. He studied the noble families intensively and traveled to Baron Battenfeld in Hanover. The old gentleman was an extremely likeable scholar in his eighties, known above all for his precise translations of the ancient Greeks. The formal matters were quickly discussed and ticked off, then the baron turned to his current project and Oleg listened with great interest, even though he had neither a humanistic education nor had learned Ancient Greek. Battenfeld said that the neoclassicists of the 18th, 19th and even the 20th century had badly mutilated and abridged Homer's Iliad. Homer had written much more piquant, revealing and obscene than people wanted at the time. But it was precisely these omitted passages that made many things that were otherwise difficult to understand clear and comprehensible. He would probably find it difficult to find a publisher, the old man said, but he wanted to make the unabridged translation available on the Internet, at least for the academic world. Oleg offered to talk to some publishers. In a small ceremony at the town hall, Oleg became a Freiherr.

She was lying on the sandy beach and throwing little balls of sand at Oleg. "Oh, it makes me so sad that my children will grow up without a father!" she exclaimed in mock despair.

Oleg was confused. "What are you talking about, my heart?" he asked in astonishment.

"Okay," she said seriously, "when were you here the last three weekends?"

Oleg squirmed desperately. "I'm very busy, working 18 or 20 hours a day, seven days a week!" he exclaimed in exasperation.

Lou ignored his explanation. "You were there four weeks ago, before that it was five weeks and before that three weeks. I'm not complaining, I know how hard‐working you are, no question. But look at it through your child's eyes. You read him a bedtime story 4, 5 and 3 weeks ago. You were 5,000 and 12,000 kilometers away when he banged his knee playing. The plaster was put on by a chief petty officer or a simple sailor. A stranger." Lou remained silent, she had to give him time.

"I know what you mean," Oleg said, "I haven't named, trained and appointed a successor or deputy yet. But I will sit down to the screen tonight and make a plan."

Lou nodded in satisfaction. "You need to organize your 700 companies" ‐ "It's almost a thousand!" he interjected, — "so your thousand companies into groups, by geography or by products. Then set up a strict hierarchy so that at the end a handful of admirals report on how they run your business. Only then can you be a father. I have no use for a mere sperm donor, my dear Freiherr von!" They always laughed when she teased him like that. But she realized that he was as quick as he was at canvassing. In his mind's eye he saw the groups in outline, they already existed. Of course, he also had managers, group leaders, small emperors. But she was right, he was in and out of everything, day and night. "Okay," he said, "I'm going for another swim!"

She held him back for a moment. "If you're with me every weekend for two months, I'll let you make me a baby. I'm already ready, although I'm not yet 35, I'm sweet 33, but I'm already looking forward to having my first child. So make an effort!" He nodded and made a courtly bow for a Freiherr. "Your musketeer is leaving tonight, Your Majesty, he'll have to think it all over!" Grinning, he snorted like a horse and plunged into the shallow water.

He got serious. He created a strict administration, appointing lieutenants, captains and a handful of generals. He staggered salaries, bonuses and shareholdings so that the hard‐working got richer and the slackers immediately stood out. He would fire them, no doubt. He looked at his organization chart with satisfaction. He had done and managed everything himself so far, it was like a constant chase, it was breathlessly exciting. Now he had a good reason to hand over most of the management work. He instructed his secretariat to book two days in Paris and invite the people on the attached list. He flew from Santo Domingo to Paris, and after two days everything was finalized. He came to see his princess every weekend for three days and two nights.

One morning, it was a Sunday, they fucked in the morning sun on her terrace and they made her first child.

Lou excitedly wanted to talk to Oleg on the phone, but his device was switched off. She called his office and Ludmilla told her he was in Singapore or Bangkok, was it very urgent? She could page him in an emergency. Lou said it wasn't urgent time‐wise, but ask him to call me back in a quiet minute. Ludmilla wrestled with herself, "congratulations already?" Lou laughed softly, the woman really was the best secretary. "Yes," said Lou, "thank you very much! But please don't tell him anything, I want to do it myself."

Two hours later, Oleg called and she told him she was pregnant. He was overwhelmed and then they palavered for another half hour. He was in the hot phase of negotiations, he was offloading the entire Asia‐business, selling around 125 small companies. At least he wanted to sell them without making a loss, not give them away. The Asians were good businessmen and he really enjoyed wrestling with them. They discussed the conversions on the yacht and she reminded him that she might need Tanja's help in 8 months at the latest.

Oleg got started immediately. Tanya had been working as an obstetrician in a St. Petersburg hospital for over six months and was under close observation by the Kremlin. They had noticed her encrypted communication with the West and thus became aware of Oleg, who was slowly but steadily shedding his Russian companies and holdings. He had Tanja flown out at night and fog in a private jet. She was given genuine Luxembourg citizenship and a passport. She had left nothing of value behind in St. Petersburg.

Lou had two double cabins next to her bedroom converted into a children's room, with a double cabin for Tanja behind it. She had the cabins fitted with connecting doors, as well as Michel's cabin, so she or Tanja could access the children's romm. This meant that Michel could enter her bedroom unseen and Oleg could enter Tanja's cabin also unseen. She sacrificed four guest cabins and had a spacious office and conference room set up for Oleg. All that remained was the captain's cabin and the two officers' cabins on the A‐deck. The A‐deck was now entirely private, but there were still guest cabins for 12 to 16 guests on the B‐deck. The crew did a good job with the conversions, she noted with satisfaction. She sent photos every other day to keep Oleg up to date and discussed the details of his new office with him. He stayed in Singapore for almost 3 weeks, but he achieved his goals with profit. He flew back via Luxembourg, where he personally discussed the correct closing of the Asian deal with his tax experts.

Oleg was surprised that she had two cribs set up in the children's room. She smiled, "Yes, for Peter and Paul." She had to laugh because it only seeped into him in bits and pieces. They hugged each other blissfully and were already looking forward to the twins. Oleg had the yacht moved closer to Santo Domingo, the former palace was being completed. Installing a large hydrogen emergency generator and the hydrogen tanks that went with it proved to be difficult. He still intended to use it as a retirement home.

They celebrated Tanja's 42nd birthday with a feast for four, Oleg and Lou, Tanja and Michel. Lou toasted with orange juice, she took the pregnancy very seriously. She no longer went on field trips and no longer dived, she had stopped smoking. They spoke openly about the fact that Oleg would now lie with Tanja more often and Michel with Lou. "It's a wonderful solution, we'll grow together as a real family. I'm really looking forward to it!" Lou summed it up.

She was grateful to Oleg that he had reorganized his empire and was now with her at least four days a week. He had carefully planned his office and was able to run the business from there, sometimes he was staying the whole week. The hierarchy was still creaking at every turn, so he had to go there and solve the problems, for better or worse. He had given half the crew leave and they would take turns with the other half. The ship would probably be here off Santo Domingo for a few more months. He often sat together with Captain Smith or the two officers, because the Elisée was already an old lady, and Oleg wanted to have a younger ship in three years at the latest. The global economy was going badly and yachts were always being sold therefore, so there was no need for a new build.

Lou was hypersexualized during her pregnancy. Tanja was too hypersexualized, because her lover was only a few steps away. The two women forged their erotic plot, demanding everything from both men during this time. When Oleg fucked Lou after dinner, he slept for just under an hour and Lou relaxed her violently demanding clit masturbating. Oleg went quietly to Tanja and Lou gave Michel the signal. They did as they had done from the beginning, kissing, cuddling and snuggling for an hour before she fucked him. When Oleg returned early from Tanja's, he would stand under the door and watch them. Michel would always lie on his back and Lou would mount her little girl. She rode him with increasing speed until her powerful orgasm almost tore her apart. Michel held her belly and the twins gently and softly with his hands as if they were raw eggs. Lou, who had been caressing his breasts the whole time, tore at his nipples in her orgasm, almost ripping them out. He usually squirted with a groan during her violent orgasm, otherwise she rode him until he cummed or he fucked her from below when she was too exhausted. Oleg watched lovingly and only came in when Michel had left, he didn't want to cause any embarrassment. After the birth, the greedy and needy urges were calmed down and the women no longer put the men through a marathon.

Now Lou was sitting in front of her private laptop, stroking her little tummy again and again and reading through her diary. She would give it to the children at the right time, she had documented everything meticulously. She wanted the children to know how their mother had lived. She had described the childish experiments until she discovered masturbation. She reported in all details how she did handjobs and blowjobs in her youth. After that the intensive and horny lesbian loves, which she explored very deep. She truthfully described the incest with her father and also what Charlotte had told her. She wrote without a fig leaf about her relationship with Michel, with Oleg and also about Mischa. She thought long if she should report her secret fucking, but finally she did. She described that she took her vaginal temperature before getting up and checked it with the monthly calendar. Before breakfast she swam a few lengths naked in the swimming pool and allowed the 2 or 3 sailors, who were at the pool, to swim naked with her. She looked at their cocks and nodded encouragingly to them before swimming to a corner, that was not visible from the outside. She held on to the edge of the pool and stuck her ass out. She never wanted to know, which sailor was coming to fuck her. The sailor was allowed to penetrate her underwater from behind and fuck her really, really hard. She always prepared herself for an orgasm and got it quickly, sometimes only with the second or third sailor. After the orgasm, she let him finish fucking and squirting, then she went upstairs and had breakfast on her terrace. The morning orgasm during the morning exercise relaxed her and sweetened her day. She kept it strongly a secret from Oleg and Michel, it would only confuse and hurt them. It was something purely physical and she forbade the sailors any improper fraternization. She looked out to sea from her laptop.

Damn it all! How much she was looking forward to seeing the twins!

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