A gala event amidst brainwashing objectives highlights new motives and new players.
Events at the Parnassus estate were considered the must-attend for the local and area-wide elite, as well as the many fires Parnassus irons rested in. Nothing less that pristine preparation and detail was acceptable, down to the schedules of the family itself. There could’ve been slaves tasked with taking Richard and Ella further into trance during the party if all hands weren’t needed on deck. Decadence never got in the way of their appearance and power, which made Elowyn Parnassus’s appearance in greeting their first high-powered guests minutes before their arrival quite the stirring moment. She walked to the main foyer in her usual socialite gait, noticing Delphine present and near Tennyson Sr.’s side. Elowyn wanted to pull the young women off to the side and chew out whomever had brought the slave resembling a younger Elowyn there, but the elegant state she stood in plus the snide look on her husband’s face to her it was his decision.
“I’m glad you made it dear; it was so close to me getting to chastise you for once about ‘on-time being late.'”
“And I see you wasted no time in dressing up an inferior replacement,” she uttered without looking in his direction.
“If any guests were to find you absent, at least Delphine could represent you in spirit; arguably a more energetic one.”
Tennyson Jr. snickered at the comment made against his mother, enjoying her uncharacteristic arrival leading to a very characteristic exchange between his parents, making his mother use practiced restrain not to slap her son hard across his face.
It was later into the party that Elowyn still quietly seethed at Delphine and Tennyson Sr. walking the floor, greeting important members amongst the invited peons of lower wealth, making for a versatile evening, and effective window-dressing. Each Parnassus family member reached out to speak to their direct investors, and court new ones. This gathering was especially important for them for the sake of promotion, and quelling concerns over competition, and effective usurping entrepreneurs. Whispers circulating mentioned someone the Parnassus clan hoped they’d never hear at the party, a figure calling herself “the Matron,” who according to rumors had a nasty habit of poaching and converting victims, even already-made slaves. Elowyn was happy to take down a direct threat like a Quant keenly interested in them, but competition like the Matron could easily cut into familial profits if they weren’t careful, and didn’t sell their services well. Elowyn had the most diplomatic touch of the trio, the velvet glove to Tennyson’s iron fist, while Junior had perfected an arrogance his father never corrected and his mother tried to banish from him over the years, unsuccessfully. With this party and venture though, the roles had reversed as Tennyson Sr. was playing salesman to his peers, with Elowyn ready to play silent enforcer if need be. She would’ve been the front-runner, pitching the family’s endeavor, if not for the arm candy around the male host’s arms that was the product being invested in, or rather, the end goal.
To those in the know in proper circles, the Parnassus clan had cornered the market in brainwashing techniques, making the willful into willing given enough time and utilized tactics. Delphine was one, as she was paraded around the party, carrying old photos of herself pre-plastic surgery, cheerfully recalling old qualities as if they were from another life of an entirely different kind of woman. Junior carried two like her around his arm all night, only they were more the docile models, literally meant to smile and soothe the ego of their owner. The potential male investors watched just short of drooling, and their wives loved the idea of brainless supplicants, servants, and even surrogates. Elowyn gave the strongest effort in pitching methodologies she didn’t fully believed in, despite the results strewn about the room as companions and caterers.
Her diplomatic mask hid the surrounding disdain very well for most of the night, but it faltered a little bit at the sight of a new arrival. Turning more than a few heads, oblivious yet acknowledging garnered looks, the young woman strolled through the party like a new queen bee casually drawing drones close. Her appearance wasn’t too dissimilar from other women; she sported short hair, immaculately-done makeup, dressed in a burgundy, spaghetti-strap dress and wrap, very much favoring pearls with earrings, bracelets, and a multi-stranded necklace. It was the way she moved through the party, no one’s plus one, a striking-enough difference to the submissive Dolls walking around, an additive changing the party’s tone slightly. She made casual conversations with interested parties, politely excusing herself from one man or group to the next. Elowyn watched her carefully, keenly aware that she was not idling the party; more than likely she was hunting, for something or someone.
“Elowyn,” someone called out, making her turn to a familiar face.
“Edward,” she smiled and moved to give him a light embrace. “It’s so nice to see a member of the Yearwood clan attending.”
“You mean besides you,” her distant cousin commented with his own smile. Elowyn’s regard for Edward extended further than most of her biological relatives; she distributed invitations to them every other event or holiday, mostly for the sake of appearances and alliances. Married off to Tennyson Sr. by the Yearwood and Parnassus clans before she finished college, it rated more business merger than marriage, despite the fact that Tennyson’s wealth and status gradually diminished over time, old money or no.
“I can’t claim that name anymore; I am truly a Parnassus now.”
“The Lioness Parnassus, if what I’m hearing across the grapevine is correct. Nice to know you haven’t lost your…headstrong tendencies.”
That rumored nickname wasn’t one she encouraged, but neither was it disavowed. She certainly approved of it from her cousin’s lips. Edward was a staunch businessman, the kind whose contributions kept the Yearwood’s coffers filled, but there was at least semblance of respect for her compared to others that had forgotten their relative or sibling altogether.
“As it would be nice to hear the Bishop of Yearwood found an additional successful venture to add to your reputation.”
“I certainly hope the same; we’re certainly talk again soon Elowyn,” he excused himself with a friendly handshake as another associate flagged him down. Elowyn kept her feeling of niceties close while scanning for the target she’d lost sight of, who’d seemed to find what they were looking for across the room.
From across the room, calm, albeit hawkish eyes caught Tennyson Jr.’s visage, and had yet to look away. Once her eyes caught his through a bobbed cut of ash brown hair, the glance they shared lasted long enough for him to forget the two forgetful woman around his arms. Junior was the first person of interest this new arrival walked up to meet.
“You must be one of the illustrious hosts, the Parnassus’s youngest, is that right?” She extended a gloved hand for him to kiss, that he dutifully took. Within the time of a slow, passionate gesture, his usually-sly mind cycled through memories to see if this was one of the dozens he’d bedded, or hundreds he’d flirted with; her cultured European accent wasn’t something he could readily place, but it helped her stand out from the many that crossed his path and bed. Coming up empty in his memory banks, he began turning on the charm designated for first meetings.
“In a sense, ‘youngest is correct.’ My father is Tennyson Sr, but you can call me Tennyson.”
“Very nice to meet you, Tennyson. I am Hypatia, Hypatia Alexiou; it’s a pleasure to meet such an esteemed man.”
“The pleasure is mine, Hypatia,” he finally gave her her hand back, smiling at how she didn’t seem to mind. The way she regarded him while not giving the women next to him a single thought intrigued him, he loved that in a woman.
“Alexiou, that sounds like a prominent last name,” Junior inquired. “French?”
“It would be Greek, dear,” Elowyn interjected from out of nowhere, “As in the famed family from Greece.”
“I hope it doesn’t carry any caveats with it across the Atlantic,” Hypatia admitted, turning to acknowledge Junior’s mother.
“Not at all, the name is well-regarded with all that I know,” Elowyn confirmed with a smile, extending a hand that Hypatia took graciously.
Junior watched this exchange carefully, smile trying not to turn crooked for the sake of his new admirer; into his late teens, he could tell when his mother did not approve of someone, no matter how hard that Elowyn Parnassus diplomacy shielded true emotions. Subtle muscle ticks, lingering, scanning looks, wide smiles compensating for exposing acts to be committed later, Hypatia hit several indicators, making him ready to swoop in and save this damsel from matronly distress.
“What brings you to our side of the globe, Hypatia?”
“Something of a pilgrimage for me. One I wanted to take, mind you; the family is known for making sure their youth are well-traveled; I went as far as to attend school in this country, and finally got to attend a party hosted by a family mine speaks highly of.”
“We’re so very glad to have you here, and I hope more of the Alexiou family pay us a visit. It’s so wonderful to have friends at every corner of the globe.”
“I so agree, Mrs. Parnassus.”
“Please, call me Elowyn” would have been the typical response, but a simple smile as the reply cemented Elowyn’s opinion of Hypatia to Junior.
“Please excuse me, but I must visit the ladies room,” Hypatia looked around, and Elowyn helpfully gestured with a nod the direction of their facilities.
“I hope we have a chance to connect again,” Junior stated without preamble.
“Likewise, Tennyson,” she nodded cordially.
Knowing his mother’s disapproval, he took his time waiting to turn his head in her direction.
“I would hope you’re smart enough to know that she’s targeting you specifically, and at least asked yourself why?”
“I guess it’s too much to ask that that Parnassus charm reeled her in.”
“For a girl that’s shown herself around the time this Matron nuisance has, and took a direct interest in you, it certainly is too much to ask.”
“She doesn’t look like a ‘Matron’ to me. Does she girls?”
“Oh no, too young. Not a Matron at all,” the girls at his sides agreed on cue.
“The mindless do not get a vote, nor do the ones thinking with the wrong head. Just stay away from her for now until we have more intel,” Elowyn threatened quietly, the kind that Tennyson at his worst knew not to test. A small huff from his lips acknowledged her words, as she left to speak to another investor coming her way.
Never liking when his libido was denied under any circumstance, he made his way through the crowd to a vacant server station tucked a little ways away from the party. He could have his Dolls take turns giving fellatio; he was especially looking forward to it before a voice startled him.
“I trust we won’t be disturbed here…” Hypatia emerged from the shadows.
Junior was quick to turn shock into charm at the sound of a female voice that wasn’t his mother’s.
“Yes,” he played along, “But how do I know I can trust a mysterious beauty like you?”
A few steps away from him, she rested a hand on her hip, the other stroking a unique configuration of pearls very deliberately. Able to wantonly behold her, Junior appreciated the simple, yet resplendent theme of pearl jewelry, from a decorative belt to earrings, to a single bracelet, to the necklace her hand rested upon. The triple-strand configuration stood out based on how her gloved fingers toyed with the pearls kept apart by unseen separaters on each strand, changing the number of pearls staying together at will somehow. Keen eyes watched carefully as she moved the pearls along the long strands of her multi-tierd necklace. One at a time, two at a time, there seemed to be a pattern to the motion, with more than one set of eyes caught on.
“Do you think trust is a choice, or something that just happens, Tennyson?”
“Of course it’s a choice,” he answered with a smolder.
“It’s not a choice for them,” Hypatia closed the distance to the girl to Junior’s left, softly reaching out to gently grasp her hand, paying most of the attention to her pearl bracelet.
“This is so lovely, you made a nice choice with this,” Hypatia slowly raised her wrist to bring the bracelet up into view of the girl who smiled nervously, unable to help herself from being moved around by someone that wasn’t Junior.
“I trust this choice was made by you, and not for you, because you had to know how eye-catching this was, how each one catches the light, and your eyes, bringing them together, letting neither of you go,” the limp arm was moved side to side, drawing eyes to absorbent, purposefully-aimed glistening, drawing ears to the way the pearls seemed to bounce off of one another.
“Because if this was chosen for you…” the arm slowly closed the distance to the wearer’s face. “Then they knew how you couldn’t resist. Just as you know that you…cannot…resist…” Hypatia brought the bracelet to the woman’s forehead, making her eyes stare upwards. “You can’t resist….everyone knows when you bring your wrist to your forehead like this, a faint feeling comes over you and you simply must sleep!” The last word uttered sharply made the girl stereotypically fall, bringing Junior down with her to a couch behind both. He let go of the other girl to catch the fall of the sleeping one; the one still standing would’ve been inclined to kneel at his side were it not for a butterfly motion catching her eyes, fluttering endlessly, drawing it in every direction. The more she moved her hand, the more the pearls softly-collided with one another, before little else filled her ears, before a jolt to an arm she didn’t know was grasped pulled her into another sleep command. Hypatia caught her, held her up with a hug, before depositing her next to Junior on the couch.
“What the hell?” was all Junior could say.
A rueful smile was all Junior received as an answer, while eclipsing attention went towards the second woman that fell. The pearl-adorned hypnotist whispered something into her ear, enough to make her eyes flutter open, gaze raptly, glassily at the pearls moving back and forth by calculating fingers in drawing patterns, until she looked just as sleepy but with her eyes open. The Doll’s automaton stare nearly shocked Junior into silence, but the thought of relinquishing control struck him enough to begin to protest. A lone, silken finger brushed his lips with a sensual hush from Hypatia as she repeated the same with the girl in Junior’s arms. Simultaneously interested in her inductive words and afraid of hearing and falling over the same precipice as the Dolls, he managed to only take in the meaning of every other word, and let her voice garner most of the influence.
When both Dolls were converted, Hypatia stood over all three with a smile, and simply commanded each woman to stand with her, rubbing the length of her pearls gently as she did. Neither could take their eyes off where her hands stroked, or deny the instructions given as they stood and faced the late-arriving guest.
“I would suggest you rise with them and keep up, lest anyone consider you the faithful, following puppet,” she smiled, as Hypatia gestured for the women to begin walking. Pride shot past shock to make Tennyson Jr. get between them and pretend as if he was leading them wherever they were walking. He smiled to the crowd he gently passed through, the women plowing the way for Hypatia as they led her through the crowd, off to the area they’d emerged from earlier in the day. A suited guard stood near the entrance to the brainwashing dungeon, and stood at attention as the family scion walked to the door, a wagon driver literally led by horses driven from someone else’s reigns. He opened the door and let them through, but looked quizzically at the woman that the dilettante woman trailing behind. She regarded his look with a gentle caress to the face, and what looked like a flirtatious whisper to his ear. The camera at the entrance would revealed the whisper to be a rapid induction while the caressing hand pulled him further into his words, if anyone would’ve bothered to check the footage; given the guard could only report of Junior dragging three submissive women to their secret area, no special report was needed.
Only a few steps into the restricted area, Junior turned and regarded Hypatia in a threatening posture, the likes of which only made Hypatia chuckled.
“Who the fuck are you, and how do you know about this? You sure as shit are not part of the Alexiou family.”
Crossing her arms as she looked up slightly at the menacing Parnassus.
“Is that something you can prove, Tennyson Jr.?”
As quickly as her touristy demeanor had vanished, so had her Greek accent, slipping into one Junior would consider local. It struck him how she shed it so easily without loosing an ounce of culture or confidence; her natural accent suggested local to him, which struck him as to how he’d thought he’d met every girl worth bedding in the area.
“It’s probably different with your clan, but in a more civilized part of the world, family representatives are surely treated like family…”
“Family…what?”
“A family ‘re-pre-sen-ta-tive,’ dear,” she turned her head to emphasize the confounding word condescendingly by vowels. “Just because a prominent family is hesitant to send a blood relative to show interest in your venture certainly doesn’t mean they’re not interested.”
“Meaning your an errand girl for their interests?”
Her eyelids lowered slightly in response to condescension volleyed back at her.
“Call it an inspection, if you wish.”
“The look of these girls isn’t enough proof? And how did you know where our lab is?”
“Excellent actors can be found all over the world, Tennyson. But so far, your product looks quite genuine. And why wouldn’t mind slaves like them know exactly where they came from?”
Impressed reasoning was quickly set aside as indignation formed.
“And why would you be interested if you’ve got some skills of your own, Matron?” levying the accusation he wasn’t sure if she was aware of might have been careless, but her raised eyebrows told him she was at least aware of the title. The cultured laugh that followed in equal parts confirmed and denied the truth of it.
“An explanation for my skills lie deeper into your high-tech dungeon. Please follow your Dolls,” she spoke to Junior, but faced the ladies, brushing her pearls as she got them to lead the way.
Eventually, they made it into designated areas filled with wiring, mechanical consoles, and series of pods large enough to house future slaves. Hypatia walked around them, looking like an inspector would, checking the look of the set-up, the conditions of the workstations, making sure to check inside each individual pod. She eventually stopped as her breath caught, and her eyes feasted hungrily on the insides of what Junior recognized as Dr. Thorn’s pods.
“Wait, you knew that Quant?”
“Judiciously,” she said, a calm tone trying to his a scorned undertone.
“I’d heard you’d gotten him and his latest whore,” she moved a little ways a way to the next closest pod that housed Ella. Guessing the right button configuration for opening pods at their consoles, Hypatia’s eyes fell upon the slackened pair of bodies. The former Subprime in-particular was a sight, bearing a form that looked as if her soul was scooped out of her body, an odd smile reflective of endless conditioning counting for the only muscular effort she gave. She gave a “tsk tsk” to the Quant’s former servant, bereft of pity, waving a hand before vacant eyes incapable of tracking anything outside her programming. Junior loved the distinction between them, with Ella being someone he’d frequently tried to influence into bed while she was undercover. She would’ve been an easy lay, too easy a target, so different from the calmly-vivacious Hypatia; he’d never hunted someone that potentially had him in cross hairs.
“Such a shame,” she stated before returning to Vector’s pod, giving him a hard slap he seemed wholly unaware of. “So unsatisfying that you couldn’t feel that, but strangely fulfilling seeing you aware of nothing,” she said like a final farewell, shutting the pods and spitting on the glass visor for Vector’s chamber. Junior quickly used a napkin to wipe off her spit, not keen on letting any physical evidence of her presence be known. “Thank you for confirming the highlight of my visit.”
“So that’s how you messed with the Dolls?”
“Alaga garnu,” Hypatia replied.
“Ala-what?”
“Name for the trick I picked up that made your Dolls a little more…discernable.”
Hypatia let Junior remain puzzled for long seconds before veering into another explanation.
“Most interested families I’m sure couldn’t wait to be early adopters in your venture, what with your reported success rate. The Alexiou family was one of them, but I advised them to wait, knowing they operated in the infamous Quant Vector’s jurisdiction; it’s always a zero-sum game with that man, no matter how subtle he believes his touch of justice to be. Either he succeeds spectacularly, or fails impossibly. And allow me to shake the hand of those that made the impossible, possible.”
It took a moment to accept it, eyes cycling between the outstretched hand, her beautiful face, and the two subverted beauties nearby. Cautiously taking her hand to shake, he smiled as he put the obvious together on his own.
“So you were once the Quant’s whore too?”
She sighed evenly, ignoring the dig, “my penance for daring to be a woman Quant in this world, like my former mentor, Dr. Thorn here. Either he, or my former government superiors that loaned me to his…specialized training, thought I’d be better as a permanent junior to someone.”
Hypatia’s short dig kept him from laughing. “After enough rebellion and rage to get me to escape, I struck out on my own with skills smuggled out from ’employment’ under Dr. Thorn, ones the Alexiou family was happy to invest in their completion in exchange for specialized council.”
She stared hard into the visor of the pod, allowing an evil smile.
“And your skill trouncing the likes of him means the Parnassus as a brand name comes with the highest mark of quality I could possibly give. With a stipulation, you may consider the Alexiou family a newfound investor.”
Junior smiled the most prideful smile he’s bore in years, believing he’d made a business deal under his own acumen for once in his life; it faded only slightly as the whole of her statement was thought of.
“Stipulation? What, you want to punish our little Quant here for your own pleasure?”
“That’s a given, Tennyson. But the family would also like to know of whom they deal with directly. Typically, the patriarch is the obvious choice, but when it comes to something as idiosyncratic as mind control, it would be best to know who holds the real skeleton key to this operation.”
“Why wouldn’t my father be in-charge of this?”
“Not to mention that we would like to know what the future of this program holds, with the future of the Parnassus estate; assuming your father will not happen upon immortality in the near future, your opinion must also be considered.”
Hypatia’s last statement was spoken with a stark seriousness, but eyes sizing him up never faltered in appreciating the healthy physique and viral essence given off him. Unlike several wealthy scions that rated scrawny and propped up almost exclusively monetarily, Tennyson Jr. was at least a specimen to the eyes of the average interested beauty, the kind that wouldn’t need mind control to find a willing mate that didn’t know of possible inherited perversions.
“Perhaps we can discuss my plans for mind control this weekend, to…satisfy any curiosities you might have.”
Laying on his charm made the Alexiou representative smirk.
“Your mother seemed adamant against such a proposition; I must be a bad influence in her eyes for her loving son,” she slipped back to her Greek accent as easily as he’d hoped to slip her dress off in the coming hours.
“Unfortunately, I must get back to the party, to show what a good influence I am,” he began ushering everyone back in the direction of the part. “But I’d be happy to discuss the disappointment stemming from my love of ‘bad influences…'” He crooned, as he set a video feed for Vector’s chamber to show more of the captured footage highlighting his current demise.
“Getting to know the future of the Parnassus investment sounds very influential,” Hypatia said, following the trio, looking forward to the later meeting to come.
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