Of Algorithms and Amazons

Story Info
How computer coding got a young duke his Wonder Woman.
6.3k words
4.37
19.4k
12
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Author's note: Before Gal Gadot finally secured the big screen role of Wonder Woman, a number of names were bantered about as a possibility to portray the Amazon. Here's a "What if" story set in 2009, concerning one of those possibilities, a young American soap actress by the name of Nadia Bjorlin. Also, all participants in sexual activities are at least eighteen years old.

-----

Europe has always had its microstates. Some had been in existence since the fall of the Roman Empire; others had only existed for a short period of time, such as the Free Cities that existed between the two World Wars.

One of the more enduring European microstates was the Duchy of Ferrostahl, a small country located at the junction of France, Italy and Switzerland, which came into being after the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire. The official language of the Duchy was Romansch, a language descended from Vulgar Latin. In actuality, the majority of Ferrons (as citizens of the Duchy were known) spoke French, Italian, German and/or English; most of the official business of the Duchy was conducted in either French, Italian or (increasingly) English.

Like a number of European microstates, the Duchy's economy originally derived from its status as a tax haven, tourist destination and duty free market. With the strengthening and evolution of the European Union, the duty free market status of Ferrostahl had gone by the wayside. Its status as a tax haven, though, had strengthened with a series of treaties between Ferrostahl and Switzerland, which allowed the ministries of finance of the two countries to act in concert. There was even some speculation that Ferrostahl might eventually become the twenty-seventh canton of Switzerland, though that was still a matter for the politicians and diplomats to hash out. For now, the forty-thousand citizens of the Duchy enjoyed the benefits of a small, neutral country with a strong banking system and a seventeen year old ruler who happened to be a super-genius.

The Duke of Ferrostahl was one Wesley Fields who, until eight years ago, had been a normal, small town American boy. As it happened, Wesley's mother was the only child of the Duke of Ferrostahl, and had run away with an American sailor whom she had met while on a trip to Naples. When Wesley's parents died in a car accident, Wesley discovered that he was the grandson and heir of the Duke of Ferrostahl. Within a week of his parents being killed, Wesley became Lord Wesley, heir to the Duke of Ferrostahl and newest resident of the small city of Ferrostahl.

Within a month of moving to Ferrostahl, Wesley's mathematical genius came to light. With the help of teachers from Switzerland, Germany, Italy, France and America, Wesley was revealed to be a mathematical prodigy, a fact that was a source of pride (and later revenues) for the people of Ferrostahl.

When Wesley's grandfather died, Wesley was installed on the throne of Ferrostahl, under the regency of the Duchy's prime minister. Although the Duke of Ferrostahl's powers were proscribed by the Duchy's modern constitution, the people of Ferrostahl still greatly benefited from Wesley's rule. Wesley used his genius to create algorithms used in internet search engines, international financial modeling, encryption devices, and the like. By Wesley's seventeenth birthday, he had become the primary stimulus of Ferrostahl's thriving modern economy.

For the most part, this went unnoticed by most of the world's population. Wesley was listed in Forbes as one of the wealthiest individuals in the world, but he wasn't Prince Williams. Wesley was a good looking kid, and stayed fit by playing soccer, skiing, hiking, and the other sports available in an alpine country. But he was the nominal leader of a country whose entire population was the size of a small American town. In addition, he was something of a geek, even if he was a geek who was revered by people who considered Wesley the source of their country's revitalization.

So Wesley found himself pretty much secluded. Most of the people who visited him were either interested in his mathematical abilities, or who wanted him to use his influence and position with the democratically elected Duchy Council to change the banking laws of the Duchy to the visitor's benefit.

Wesley had friends on the town's youth soccer teams, but his genius and position kept him separated from them as well. So at seventeen, Wesley found himself alone in the world. He was a young man whose wealth, position and intelligence should have afforded him any sort of companionship he wanted, but he was denied this by his own sense of pride and noblesse oblige. It did not mean, though, that he didn't desire human contact. Wesley was a teenager whose hormones were as active as any non-royal adolescent.

Wesley finally decided that his time of seclusion should come to an end. He had a plan wherein the American intelligence community would hand him over the woman of his dreams, to do with as he would.

-----

"You can't be serious. You want us to kidnap an American citizen to turn over to a seventeen year old boy to be used as his sexual plaything?"

The objection was voiced by a woman who could have easily been mistaken for Miss Hathaway from the classic American comedy, The Beverly Hillbillies. In reality, her name was Rita Wilkshire, an analyst for the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. The table she and five other individuals were sitting around was nondescript, as was the room the table was in. The room's only noteworthy feature was that it was not the type of room that drew attention to itself.

A thin man with thick black rimmed glasses pushed the glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. "We don't have any choice. I suppose we could send in a team to kidnap the Duke, but we are talking about the head of a technically friendly country."

Ms. Wilkshire huffed. "A friendly leader that is blackmailing us."

An urbane gentleman, one Adam Ritter III, cleared his throat, drawing the eyes of the rest of the room to him. He adjusted his tie before he started talking.

"While technically this country had kidnapped the heads of countries that were acting contrary to our interests, it wouldn't do any good in this case. For one, the young Duke has taken steps to ensure that certain electronic 'time bombs' will come to light if anything happens to him. For another, although the American public might not recognize his name, the young Duke does enjoy a certain amount of celebrity in academic and financial circles. And he is offering something of equal value in exchange."

The thick glasses man interrupted "A huge leap forward in encryption technology!"

"As Mr. Booth, our colleague from the NSA just plainly stated," Mr. Ritter continued, "the Duke is offering us a unique opportunity, one that none of our code departments is willing to pass up. And in return, all the Duke is asking for is the company of a--"

Ms. Wilkshire interrupted. "An abducted American citizen!"

"A minor starlet," Mr. Ritter countered. "A twenty-nine year old soap opera actress who has been unable to successfully break free of her genre. The Duke is a wealthy man--"

"A perverted little boy!" Ms. Wilshire inserted.

Mr. Ritter took a deep breath before continuing. "Ms. Wilkshire, we need what the Duke has to offer us. We need to make sure that somebody else doesn't get it. And you know as well as everyone else in this room that from the sample the Duke has given us, that he can definitely deliver.what he's promised."

Everyone around the table nodded at this last pronouncement. Even Ms. Wilkshire grudgingly granted this point.

After a moment of silence, once of the other attendants asked, "Granted, we could use the Duke's product. But how do we deliver what he wants?"

Mr. Ritter pushed a button on his laptop, which sent an electronic folder containing photos and other data to everyone around the table.

"The government in Iran, in a diplomatic gesture toward the new administration, has released a number of political prisoners who have relatives living in America. Of course, these prisoners are being interrogated by the agencies represented at this table, on the assumption that the Iranians will try to slip a few intelligence operatives in the batch. As it happens, two of the prisoners were friends of the actress's mother, and one is an uncle thought dead. We're contacting the mother now."

Ms. Wilkshire shook her head. "I'd expect this kind of manipulation from the CIA, but I guess I was expecting better from the State Department."

Mr. Ritter shrugged. "You'd be surprised by the number of us over at State who have always embraced the concept of realpolitik. We're in contact with the Duke now. I doubt we'll be able to secure the services of Ms. Bjorlin as the Duke's eternal sex slave, but for the return of her mother's uncle and friends, I'm sure we'll be able to work out something that the Duke will find agreeable. If there is no further discussion, I will begin negotiations, and keep you all informed."

No one in the room objected. With that, Mr. Ritter and the others quietly filed out of the room.

-----

Nadia Bjorlin looked out the window of her new home for the next twelve months. Below her laid the bustling town of Ferrostahl, equal parts medieval town and Silicon Valley.

When Nadia had been picked up at the airport in Sion, Switzerland, she had been met by two people: Tomas, who would be her personal driver for the next twelve months, and Sara, who was to be her personal assistant for the duration. As Tomas led the three of them to a Touareg with the Duchy's emblem on its side, Sara began telling Nadia all about Ferrostahl and its young Duke. The Duke's genius had changed the Duchy from a sort of Swiss banking protectorate to a bastion of Information Technology, on par with Austin, Texas or Bangalore, India. Nadia could believe it when they crossed the border into Ferrostahl proper. The town of Ferrostahl was bustling with construction activity, although Sara was quick to point out that the Duchy Council (which Sara had explained was the elected legislative body of Ferrostahl) had taken the necessary steps to preserve the historical aspect of Ferrostahl.

Over the town of Ferrostahl loomed the Ferrostahl castle, a structure that looked as if it would be at home either in Disney World or Bavaria. The castle was going under reconstructive surgery as well, making it more technologically and ecologically compatible with the world around it.

The most surprising site to Nadia in the Duchy of Ferrostahl was the Duke himself. Duke Wesley Fields looked as if he could have been a typical American teenager (which Nadia learned he could have very well become, if his parents hadn't died in a car accident).

Nadia was presented to the Duke in one of his official offices. He was only an inch or two taller than her, with green eyes and light brown hair that looked unruly, even though the Duke's stylist had worked on it for half an hour before his meeting with Nadia. And though the Duke's suit was tailored to perfection, including the official emblem of the Duchy on its left breast pocket, something about the Duke's gangly appearance made it seem tight and uncomfortable on the young man.

Then there was the Duke himself. Nadia hadn't been sure what to expect. When the man from the State Department had approached her, he confirmed what her mother had told her. The State Department was in a position to secure the freedom of three of her mother's friends from Iran, including Nadia's own granduncle. However, the State Department needed a favor from Nadia. They needed Nadia to go visit an obscure European aristocrat, a young man who had become enamored with her. If Nadia would stay with the young man for a period of one year, and be especially nice to him during that time period, the United States State Department would secure the release of her mother's friends and family members. The official had been rather vague what constituted 'especially nice', but left it to the discretion of Nadia herself.

Nadia had half expected that once she arrived, she would be attacked by a slavering teenager driven made by hormonal desires. Instead, she was met by a polite young man who had nervously asked her to dinner at the castle's dining room the next night, noting that Nadia would understandably be tired from the long flight. Nadia thanked 'His Grace' (as both Sara and the State Department's protocol people had informed her was the proper address for the Duke), and was quickly escorted to her suite of rooms, where Sara showed her Nadia's new wardrobe. Again, Nadia wasn't sure what kind of clothes to expect: leather and lingerie, most likely. Instead, she found a walk-in closet filled with an assortment of clothes for any occasion, from an alpine picnic to dining at a Swiss chalet.

Before Sara left her, she asked if she could make a personal request of Nadia. Nadia, still bemused, nodded.

"The young Duke---well, I'm not sure I understand the circumstances in which you've arrived in the Duchy, but please don't think badly of the Duke," Sara began. "He really is a nice young man, and means well, despite what you might think of him now. I don't expect you to---well, just please don't hurt him too badly."

Nadia pondered this and other things as she gazed out the window, before finally climbing into her bed and succumbing to sleep.

The next night, Nadia was escorted to a table on a small balcony overlooking the town of Ferrostahl. She was wearing a light blue dress displaying a modest amount of cleavage, and a light, white sweater. Even in the summer, the nights of Ferrostahl could get cool.

The table had been laid out already, simply but elegantly, with the soft glow of lamps hanging from the castle wall providing the immediate lighting.

The Duke had been on his laptop when Nadia stepped out on the balcony. He nervously handed it to one of the servants waiting on him, then extended his hand to Nadia.

"Your Grace," she offered by way of reply, shaking his fingers before sitting down.

"Please, it's just Wes, Ms. Bjorlin."

Nadia smiled despite herself. "Then it's Nadia, Wes." Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all, Nadia thought. She had thought she would be spending the year fighting off the Duke's advances. Instead, it might be just a series of dinners filled with the Duke's nervous fidgetings.

Nadia found dinner rather pleasant, with both the food, wine (for Nadia only; the servers pointedly poured the young Duke bottled water) and conversation all enjoyable. Nadia learned that her and the young Duke enjoyed a number of the same interests, including music (Nadia was an accomplished flutist and harpist, while the Duke played classical piano, and was well versed in the musical traditions of a number of cultures). There was one question that Nadia was very curious about, though; the "elephant in the room" that her and Wes had pointedly not discussed all evening.

"So why me?" she finally asked. "I mean, why did you go to the United States State Department and ask them to have me go out on the world's longest date with you?"

Wes internally sighed. Initially, he hadn't asked for a date. He wanted Nadia for a one woman harem, subject to his every whim, and had indicated such in his coded email to the United States's National Security Agency. However, when he had actually had to talk to an actual human being about what he wanted, his embarrassment at letting his hormones dictate such an email had led him to agree to a year long 'date' to see where events would take him. After talking to Nadia, he was happy she didn't know just what his original demands had been.

"I--um...well, I saw you on a Wonder Woman blog, and I wanted to meet you, and I had something your country wanted, so I--"

"So you found yourself on a year long date with me. All I can say is, you must have had my country's State Department over a barrel." Nadia had read up on Wes, and had discovered that everybody who knew anything were calling Wes the next Bill Gates. He must have come up with some kind of computer program that the United States wanted. She was happy that one of the people benefiting was her mother. A year long date didn't seem that much of a sacrifice to make, especially since Wes didn't seem the type to try to force himself on her.

"So a Wonder Woman blog, huh?"

Wes blushed. "Yeah. To be honest, I had never heard of you before then, but yours was one of the names that keep getting bantered around to play Wonder Woman."

Nadia laughed. "It's because of these"--Nadia pointed at her blue eyes--"and these." Nadia pointed down at her breasts. Nadia laughed again when Wes's eyes followed her finger down, then quickly turned his head and blushed. Nadia had to give him points for that. A lot of men who talked to her could never get their eyes above her chin.

"So do you know how that's going?" Wes asked.

Nadia shrugged. "Well, Josh Whedon is no longer on the project, so it's sort of in limbo. So far now, I'm back on Days of Our Lives to pay the bills. Well, that, and dating European princes." Again, Wes blushed and Nadia couldn't help but laugh.

This wasn't going to be a bad year after all, Nadia decided.

-----

The next month was a pleasant vacation from reality for Nadia. A phone call from her mother told her that her mother had been reunited with an uncle the family had thought had died in the Revolution. Her mother's two friends had been situated near her mother, and the four were going into some sort of business together, with her mother helping the other three become acclimated to life in America.

For a seventeen year old, Wes had an unusual schedule. He had private tutors who took care of his schooling, although he was also involved in some type of online 'think tank' on math. It had to do with one of the Millennium Problems, as Wes called them. Nadia remembered reading about them, and seeing them occasionally come up on TV game shows, but otherwise didn't know much about them.

Wes was also active on one of the town's youth league soccer teams. He wasn't the star player, but he was good. More importantly, while he was playing, he wasn't the Duke of Ferrostahl, or one of the world's leading lights in mathematics, or the inventive mind behind the economic engine of his Duchy. He was just a seventeen year boy, on the brink of manhood, enjoying being with his friends. When he was out on the field, occasionally one of his teammates would point up in the stands at Nadia. When this happened, Nadia made it point to stand up and wave at Wes, which would cause Wes to hang his head and blush. His friends would good naturedly slap him on the back and laugh, before getting on with the game.

Nadia quickly discovered how well liked Wes was in the Duchy, for everything he did. And for a seventeen year old boy, his voice was one that carried weight not only on the Duchy Council, but to leaders beyond the borders of the Duchy as well.

Of course, this tended to isolate the Duke, and Nadia could understand why he took the steps he did to date a complete stranger. As one of the few surviving nobles in the world, and a rich one at that, Wes could have probably had his pick of any number of women, once they understood who and what Wes was. But that was the problem. They would be attracted to the trappings, not the young man himself. Nadia hoped that Wes would never become the man who would succumb to that lifestyle. She had come to appreciate the sweet young man she had been 'dating' for a month now.

Dates had not been just around the castle. Wes had taking her on a shopping date in Milan, sightseeing in Florencee and dinner in Davos. She laughed when he told her how he had slipped his security detail to talk with protesters at his first invitation to the World Economic Forum last January.

12