D.O.M: Prince Nadal

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Dylan O Meets Prince Nadal

*** Dylan O appears in my Mason series. This is part of a planned series of spin offs featuring characters from the “In’DaMan’d” Universe.***

Dylan laid back and closed his eyes, the masseuse working his temple while her co worker gave him an manicure, his feet were soaking in aromatic water being prepped for his pedicure. He found himself unwinding slightly, ever since Kelvin deposited the payment into his bank account he found he could breathe a little easier. Baxter on the other had was still trying to dissuade him from going down the escort route.

He nearly made Baxter crash the car when they left Kelvin’s cottage after he fucked the sixty four year old’s brains out. But it wasn’t the shock of what Dylan done to the older man that startled his agent it was the email from Dylan’s next potential client. Dylan screamed out loud when Baxter had handed him the email. As Dylan seen on the walls in Kelvin’s cottage, the retired politician had a lot of powerful and influential friends, he held in his hand an email from one such friend.

He had to re-read it four times before it actually sank in. He looked at Baxter to see if he was joking him, he knew that he wasn’t a fan of Dylan’s current endeavor but had to do his best by his client. Baxter informed him that while Dylan was in the bedroom with Kelvin he took it upon himself to ring the number attached to see if the offer was legit. He was scheduled to have a meeting via web cam later that evening to set up the arrangement. He told Dylan that he would never dream of taking on any job without consulting him first and a little part of him wanted to see his reaction at the sender.

“Fucking hell Baxter, a real life Prince wants to be dominated by me, can you fucking believe it!”

Baxter swerved violently to avoid a dog in the middle of the road.

“Careful Baxter we don’t want me dying before I meet this Prince Nadal.”

“No we do not.” Baxter replied through gritted teeth.


“I need your full attention now Dylan.” Baxter said, snapping in back from a daydream.

The lady was now massaging his feet in the scented water, her soft hands rubbing the soles of his feet nearly made him moan with relief, he had increased his work out regime and was feeling very stiff. He had decided that he wanted to increase his weight slightly and his definition. He was going to try his best with this escorting gig for at least a year. He was surprised at the rush of endorphin’s he got when Kelvin had caved to his every whim and all the while he was getting a big fat pay check out of it afterwards. It would be a whole lot easier if Baxter was more on board and not questioning and seconding guessing him at every turn.

” I am listening,” he said slowly. “What is it now?”

“Wet T shirt Olympics have now increased their offer and are willing to put you on the promotional flyers.”

“Listen Baxter, I know where you are coming from with all this meaningless shit, you feel bad because you are failing me, yes when I took you on as my agent you did land me a few magazine covers and a sponsorship deal but who has actually been getting me all the big paying jobs. That would be me Baxter. So tell me again why I pay you so much when all you can do is offer me this z list crap. Mason’s manager Mr. Gent would have me in the blink of an eye. Please don’t forget that.”

He felt bad for snapping at him, throughout his rise to fame Baxter was always by his side, he was under no illusions that the money had been a big factor for him tolerating Dylan’s divo behavior, but lately he had become his only constant. He just wished that they shared the same vision for his long term career.

Baxter’s cheeks began to redden, the masseuse looked to the side sheepishly sensing an oncoming argument.

” I know I haven’t been doing too well lately but can you fucking blame me,” he spat. “I had slow burning deals that would have set you up for years but you were adamant that you wanted to do porn, I knew you were limiting yourself by doing this shit, sometimes I think you just do things to live up to the image you created yourself. Well it’s all good trying to impress your fans but what happens when they leave huh?, you won’t be the young muscle stud on the block for too long you know.”

He went to stand up but Dylan lifted his leg out of the basin and placed it firmly between Baxter’s legs, a wet pool was beginning to form on the material of his shorts. Dylan’s fine brown hair was matted to his ankle. Baxter was still breathing heavily after his loud rant, the action of Dylan putting his foot on his lap surprised him.

“Now if only you could put that passion into listening to me and having my back like a good agent would we wouldn’t be in such a mess right now. You have a week to get on board with our…” Dylan stopped and looked down at the masseuse, suddenly remembering she was there. She quickly wiped her hands on a towel and left the room. ‘Arrangement escort osmanbey or else I will have to find someone more suited to my future. I don’t want to go down this route Baxter but I am sure you will make the right decision. Take the rest of the night off, I will see you in the morning, you can drive me to the Prince’s city penthouse like planned.”

He removed his foot from Baxter and placed it back in the basin, he leaned back and closed his eyes, he could hear his agent mutter expletives under his breath as he left the salon.


They had parked in the underground car park of the building complex, they had to be buzzed in through a private gate by a member of his security, they were told to park in spot number twenty two and a member of staff would be down to brief them on the protocol and procedure of having an audience with the Prince.

Dylan shuffled uncomfortably in the back seat, the car journey had been extremely frosty, Baxter barely giving more than one word answers so he soon gave up trying to talk to him. He looked over the email once again. It was strictly confidently the only people in the world that would know about the arrangement were Dylan, Baxter, the Prince and his most senior member of staff, Jarl who had organised the meet up on behalf of his Highness. They would both have to be cleared by security before they even set foot in the massive penthouse. Baxter would remain in the living room with Jarl while Dylan entertained. The list of do’s and don’ts was blank, in bold letters at the bottom it said that everything would be discussed between the Prince and Dylan in private.

Added to the extra pressure of not only meeting a member of a Royal family and dominating them sexually, but Dylan failed to find any recent pictures of the Prince, mentions of him on line were few and far between. He was loved by his people for being hardworking and devoted, preferring to shun the limelight and celebrity lifestyle to live behind closed doors, it seemed to Dylan that he really was all for the people.

It was times like this when his bravado had left him that he really wished Baxter would talk to him, the looming scenario both excited him and scared him, the thought of dominating a prince was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he wanted to perform to the highest of his capabilities, His fee for the encounter would not only keep him out of the red but would set him up for at least six months at his usual standard of living.

He had put in over time researching tricks and techniques, he spent countless hours watching dominating porn, he soon found himself bored with the standard stuff and quickly moved on to the more extreme scale of the spectrum. He decided that he would like to try everything once to be the best dom that he could be, a small part of him wanted to show Baxter that he was right in continuing down this path. Unfortunately the last few days he began to see his agent and friend in a new light, he no longer found flirting with him to be playful, he found that he was doing it to make Baxter feel uncomfortable and to remind him who really was in charge.

He realized that he was more in to being dominate that he first thought.

Baxter’s cell phone chimed indicating that the room was cleared of only the Prince’s most trusted advisers, he wanted to keep this meeting as quiet as possible as he was not out and homosexuality was strictly forbidden in his country. They both got out of the car and walked to the sole elevator in the underground parking, the door pinged open as they approached, a lone suited man was waiting for them.

“How good to finally meet you, I am Jarl, I will give you a quick rundown of how the first part of this will commence, then if everything is suitable for you both I will enter the code and we will go to the suite. The Prince is apprehensive for this to go well. Would you mind if we sat in your car Mr. Baxter.”

Everything about Jarl was crisp and professional, he almost seemed robotic. He was tanned and in his early forties, his black suit was crisp, he had a tiny triangle of facial hair below his thin lips. He slid in the passenger seat while Dylan sat in the back in the middle, suddenly feeling quiet small and out of place. Baxter and Jarl began to discuss the confidentiality contract and both had to agree to be searched. No photography or phone calls were allowed in the penthouse. Jarl turned and eyed Dylan almost paternally.

“I have a rough understanding of what is about to happen, I have been close friends with his Highness for nearly eighteen years, he is a great man, very good to his people. When you meet him you may at first be put off, most people think he is cold and aloof but he really is a lovely, decent man. I hope you will get to see some of that today but again I only have a rough understanding. He has asked me to make one think absolutely clear to you before the meeting. He insists that you refer to him as your Majesty.”

Dylan recoiled slightly, escort güngören this was not something he had considered before, a lot of planned techniques required verbal degradation.

Jarl smiled at the reaction.

“It is not a power thing I assure you, it’s just that all of his life he has answered to that and being called by his name is strictly reserved for his parents, any deviation from that and I am afraid his Highness simply cannot proceed. If you need time to think on it I can wait.”

Dylan looked at Baxter who with a smug expression handed him a pen and the confidentiality agreement to sign. He snatched it from him and signed sloppily. He was angry at Baxter.

“Of course, anything his Majesty wants.” He replied slowly, handing Jarl the papers. “It is good to finally work with someone who knows what they want and how to get it.”

Baxter quickly looked out the window, Dylan could see anger rising in his face.

“Well then, I will now have to search your belongings and your persons, I will be as quick as I can as I know his Majesty has been waiting for this eagerly since we touched down three days ago.”

Dylan and Baxter had originally planned on staying overnight in the city but now that they were not on great terms they decided to return after the meeting, Dylan had been looking forward to exploring the city for the weekend but he thought he would just focus on his career and if need be, get his head around life after his agent. He didn’t feel too enthused about hitting all the hottest nightclubs without Baxter anyways, it was he who called ahead and let the doormen know that he was on his way. A post on his social media could still attract a large crowd and publicity for the venue.

Jarl was very thorough, rubbing gloved fingers along the lining of their clothes.

“You said you have worked for the Prince for nearly twenty years, what is that like?” Dylan asked as he extended his arms and Jarl patted him down. He was dressed in a loose grey knitted sweater over black jeans and grey converse sneakers. He had no trouble dressing up for this meeting, he had felt more confident about this hook up than his last but as the meeting got nearer his was starting to feel unsure.

“I have been to the most beautiful places on the planet, eaten the finest food, met the greatest people, it has never really felt like work until his Majesty is required to deal with something in his country, a natural disaster for instance, then everything changes and its full steam ahead. He truly is a great man, that is why those that truly know him and I mean truly know him want only the best for him. Right now it seems that you are all that he wants.”

He moved away from Dylan and repeated the procedure with Baxter.

They didn’t exchange much chit chat so the search was over quicker than Dylan would have liked.

“Shall we proceed.” Jarl said motioning them towards the elevator, removing his gloves and putting them back in his pocket. Baxter hung back slightly, his body language was hesitant. A pained look on his face.

“I will need a quick word with my client to finalise everything, it will just take a moment.”

Jarl smiled expectantly and walked towards the elevator.

Dylan was expecting this, Baxter could never stay angry at him for too long, his stomach gave a light flutter with relief.

“You know you don’t have to do this right, I know I keep saying it but we can always turn around and leave. For once don’t let ego cloud your mind. This isn’t some retired politician in the country side.”

The light feeling in his stomach evaporated as the enormity of the upcoming liaison hit him. He took a deep breath and looked his friend in the eye.

“Thank you for your concern but I will be fine.” It was the closest thing to sincerity he had given to Baxter in their three years working together.


The elevator ride was silent, Jarl kept checking his watch.

“The assistants and wait staff have all been given the night off, all that will be in the penthouse will be myself and two security. They have all been working for the Prince for many years, we are his most trusted circle. We all want what is best for him naturally. Some of us feel that even though you have been paid for your attendance this evening that you are the perfect fit for his Majesty and his needs.”

They continued to rise, Dylan felt himself blush as Jarl complimented him.

“So on behalf of myself I would like to say thank you and it was a pleasure to meet you.”

The doors pinged open revealing a giant hall way, massive slabs of white marble laced with black swirls lay on the floor, the wall was taken over by a huge gold mirror. At the end two floor to ceiling white doors.

“This is where we will leave you. Mr Baxter if you will accompany me to a living room to our right, Dylan will proceed to the doors on his left. A member of our security team will meet you in the living room and then they will escort çapa depart before you are granted an audience with the Prince. Goodbye and good luck.”

Dylan cast a quick glance at Baxter who just raised his eyebrows and followed Jarl through a set of doors. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he walked towards the imposing doors. All of his planning and research were thrown for a loop, the fact that he had to address the Prince by his proper title and had no idea of the do’s and don’ts put him on edge. He wasn’t experienced enough to roll with the punches and suddenly felt all of his nineteen years.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, he could hear classical music playing softly from speakers dotted along in the ceiling. The room was open planned, a large dining room table, big enough to seat twelve lay to his left. A man younger than Jarl was sitting at the head of the table, his tablet lay in front of him.

“You must be Dylan, it is great to finally meet you.” He spoke with an accent that Dylan couldn’t place.

He was in his early thirties and had a buzz cut hairstyle, he was wearing a suit like Jarl’s but his seemed more lived in and less rigid.

“I will just get you to sign a few more documents and then you will receive your welcome bag. Please take a seat, this will only take a few moments.”

The promise of a welcome bag bustled Dylan’s hopes, he had always enjoyed getting free swag. He looked around the room as the security rifled through some papers.

There was three steps leading down to a sitting area, a massive sound system sat either side of 85′ flat screen TV. Dylan could see the edge of a plush looking sofa, the bottom remained hidden by the thick cream carpet.

“Does his Majesty stay here often.” Dylan asked.

“Not as often as he would like.” He replied curtly sliding the sheets over to him and handing him heavy silver pen.

Dylan glanced over it and signed the bottom.

“Perfect, Jarl will remain next door with your agent, this is for you, instructions are inside. The Prince will call for you in an hour once you have gotten ready. Have a great day.” He said as he slid long black duffel bag towards him. He shuffled up the papers and walked to the door.

“Thanks,” Dylan called out. “I didn’t catch your name.”

He turned to look but the man was gone.


He kicked off his sneakers and sat on the plush sofa, he had placed the heavy gift bag on the glass coffee table then walked back to the big table he had signed the papers on. At the far end was a section filled with breakfast items. Now that Dylan knew he had an hour to prepare for his meeting his appetite came back, he quickly looked at all the fruits and cereals that were on offer, unsurprisingly he found he didn’t recognize most of them so settled for a banana and apple juice.

The sun was shining in full force now making the whole penthouse glow, Dylan could feel a gentle breeze coming from the fans in the high ceiling. He inspected the bag before opening it, it was an extremely well known brand, it easily cost in the tens of thousands. He took a deep breath before he pulled out the silver envelope, his name was beautifully and intricately signed on the front in purple ink. It was sealed with wax, the indent was of a fish and hook that Dylan took to be the Prince’ insignia.

He opened the letter and read it slowly, it welcomed him to the penthouse and expressed gratitude to Dylan for taking up his offer, he appreciated his patience in dealing with all the extra documents regarding privacy. It was of the utmost importance that this remain known to just a few people. The letter went on to say that another envelope was in the bag with a list of requests before the meeting was to begin. It told Dylan that everything inside the bag was for him to keep. It was signed “Humbly your servant, HRH Prince Nadal.”

Dylan placed the crisp thick paper back in the envelope and placed it on the sofa beside him. He removed branded ankle socks and a thick gold watch. Underneath that was a bottle of cologne, on the box was a little note, “One of my favorite scents.” He rifled through the rest of it, chocolates, champagne, a new smart phone, tablet and laptop, underwear, sweatpants and trainers. He found a large note stuck to the outside of a bag with the same brand.

It read, “Please wear these for our meeting. It is something that I am fond off.” Apprehension crept in. He picked up the bag and was surprised to find that it was deceptively heavy.

He unzipped it and pulled out a chain mail top with a hood.

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself. He looked in the rest of the clothes bag and found a pair of navy skin tight seamless shorts. His happy mood was slowly evaporating, he was starting to feel out of his depth but something caught the corner of his eye.

He spotted a small black box with a car logo on it. He pulled apart the silver ribbon and tore open the box, a car key fell on his lap. Inside the box was another note, “Whatever you do, do not sell it.” He flipped it over and seen that it was a sky blue Porsche 718 Cayman. He struggled to catch his breath, excitement coursing through his blood. He sat back on the couch in disbelieve and laughed to himself.

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