Midnight interludes continue to complicate things after the party.
“I suspect that our first night has exceeded expectations,” Tennyson Sr. spoke, laying on the clean sheets of his master bed, speaking to an Elowyn changing across the room while Delphine stand next to the bed like a servant awaiting a fetching order.
“I suspect so,” Elowyn replied evenly, shedding the expensive frock to the floor for the next servant to take care of while she slipped into a black, silk robe.
The main party had recently ended, with the most esteemed investors allowed to remain on the premises as guests, each given a mindless servant as an overnight trial. Several nights ahead would get into more of the meat and negotiation of the Parnassus pitch of their official venture unveiling.
“Then why do I feel as if I’m about to hear all about the night’s noticeable failings in the near future?”
“I wasn’t worried about our product not selling,”
“I know you had your heart set on selling an alternative, but that can-”
“I was worried about the prospect of already being the target of espionage,” her sharp tone interrupted is diplomatic one.
“Elowyn, do you truly believe that girl is this damned Matron? Could she not be exactly what she says she is?”
“Possibly, and yet not very likely.”
The most level-headed in their nuclear family, Elowyn was rarely questioned by Tennyson Sr. for seeming paranoid or thinking out of sorts; rarely was she wrong when openly applying an instinct. She was right about being clandestinely-investigated by Dr. Thorn and his attractive assistant which were now their slaves, and could be a monumental center-piece to their investor-presentation, if she decided to disclose to the rest of her family that she’s been his special project for several days. As much as he wanted to trust her judgment, it had become more rigid when it came to anything resembling a loose end or out-of-place element that threatened the entire operation.
“If she is an Alexiou as advertised, and you cause trouble, you do realize that even that girl’s mere word of mouth could jeopardize an entire continental block of customers…”
“That would especially be true if that block, and the domestic block had an available alternative to our methodology. If she isn’t an Alexiou as advertised, and exactly what I fear, there’s no point in worrying about cornering a market we’ve already been checkmated in. Though it is wonderful that you are finally willing to give any credence to any girl’s words, even if it’s gossipy word-of-mouth.”
Tennyson Sr. ignored her jab at his chauvinism, not even bothering to laugh at it from his exulted, patriarchal position.
“Are you even blind to the fact that this girl, whomever she is, has her sights on our son?”
“Most women would, dear, mind-control or not,” he could never resist vicariously propping up his son’s ability to attract women in-spite of his inherited treatment of women.
“Even one that renders us vulnerable?”
“I trust our son to do the right thing if something is amiss.”
“I would trust our son more if he ceased to act like the thing amiss.”
Turning his head to show how irritated the conversation left him, he responded. “As long as his mother’s nagging isn’t a hereditary trait, I think he’ll do fine. Then again, maybe the younger model could inspire could show our son how to truly attract women.”
Most of Tennyson Sr.’s jabs at his spouse were petty, but decades of marriage had at least taught him which buttons Elowyn was most-sensitive to being pressed; turning Delphine into a “younger Elowyn” was a level of hyper-sensitivity both were surprised in Elowyn’s reaction, including how she purposefully approached her husband on the bed to deposit a firm, well-deserved slap. But her journey was interrupted as Delphine reacted to the scene somehow, suddenly animated enough to block Elowyn’s path and plant a stinging slap across Elowyn’s face. The older woman couldn’t believe what had just transpired, believing the Doll would remain mute unless given a direct command. She turned to stare at her expressionless face and body in a clearly-defensive posture. The disassociation made Tennyson beam in Elowyn’s peripheral vision, as he got out of bed quickly to hold an angry Elowyn back from ripping the Doll to pieces however she could.
“I see you’re impressed with a special security feature installed in this model meant for guarding owners with their lives, though I’m sorry you seem to be the first to trigger it. The investors are going to love it, even if you don’t. But you know this model can’t be harmed before the demonstration, so put your claws away, kitten.”
Seething with rage, it didn’t feel fathomable that she was held back by the man she wanted to injure, to attack an empty shell acting on said man’s orders. Composing herself well-enough, she stormed out of the room. Tennyson smirked as he knew his wife was responsible-enough to believe his words, and readily take her anger out on someone outside of public view, leaving the family patriarch to reward his Doll for her programmed gallantry.
***
“A calm mind is controlled, is freed, is mine.”
“A calm mind is controlled, is freed, is mine.”
“A calm mind is controlled, is freed, is mine.”
The conditioning chamber holding Vector ran every hour of every day since his incarceration began, a setting that should’ve broken even the most resistant subject alive; everyone was bound to fall asleep sometime, and allowing a breach of the sleeping unconsciousness, besieged by unending repetitions of thought-breaking and logic-removing routines overnight. And even so, Richard, Elowyn, and perhaps even Ella expected him to have an answer to that.
Saving enough energy inside his compartmentalized bunker, he allowed everything he deemed necessary to remember within it, while everything else, succumbed to an internal reset. Training with old mystics prior to his claim to fame as an indomitable, dominant Quant, he’d learned one trump card maybe less than a dozen people still breathing would know. A slow, stringent breathing pattern and reaching deep into his core, he allowed a burst of ethereal energy to reach from his core to wash over into his brain, washing away at least a day’s worth of memory and mental exposure from his head. It left him nearly comatose for a few hours, unresponsive to outside stimuli while his brain was washed clean.
It certainly was a technique to use in case of emergencies, and nothing he desired to do in consecutive days in a row, but since his unexpected return to the Parnassus estate, he’d used this technique every night to impede the corruption process. He wasn’t sure it was something he could keep preforming nightly, but he’d hoped to find another way out while the erosion of his will had to start fresh into the next morning.
He began the breathing process for the refresh when a light hissing sound made him pause. His chamber was being opened. He resisted the compulsion to open his eyes to see who had come to him and why.
“Good evening my good man,” he felt her alluring force press against the side of his face, pulling him towards the lips breathing heat into his ears. His audible gasp made her giggle a little, happy to have surprised the vulnerable hypnotist. Fears of his technique being intentionally interrupted rose quickly, wary of his last line of defense being subverted. But he immediately noticed certain details discounting that theory, mainly the faint whiff of alcohol on her breath, and the intoxicated need in her speech.
“Your Mistress Elowyn wants an exceptionally-good night. And so do you.”
Richard could barely contain a faint smile, knowing his captor exposed herself not only once, but twice in the same day, in a way the new opportunity could capitalize on the groundwork already laid.
“Mistress Elowyn,” he sighed happily, “I-”
“Hush, Richard,” Elowyn husked breathlessly, feeling energy caress his lip like a silencing finger would. “Let the good man come to his Mistress.” He tried remembering the last time he was intoxicated himself, a rarity he only allowed in the most controlled of settings, i.e. at his own residence with a pre-programmed Ella ready to assist with his drunken state, to prohibit certain things, or give in to spontaneous yearnings. He can’t remember the last time he was drunk and used his energies simultaneously, a feat Elowyn was managing at that moment, greatly impressing the Quant.
“I should barely have to tell you to come at all as it is the nature of things. You cannot stop an attracted magnet from being attracted, the inevitable pull so affirming as it aligns with your desires. You can feel my energies, because you want to feel my energies. You can feel my touch, because you need to feel my touch.”
The silencing finger turned into a hand roaming the side of his face, his throat, holding his chin for so long that the feel of the energies would probably linger there.
“The hairs along your body stand-at-attention as you always do for me, drawn to a hand roaming the property it owns, hairs like blades of grass pulled in my direction, happy to be walked upon, and the rest of you waiting with such deep anticipation to be touched.”
He tried to prepare words in this bunker for whenever he was allowed to get a word in edgewise, but such thoughts were broken as he felt parts of his own avatar that were touch, that wanted to be touched. Sensitive nipples, his lips, thighs ready to quiver reactively, a shaft already filling with blood, even the certain spot on the back of his neck he told no one about that really drove him wild. The hairs standing up in all of those places took his breath out of his control; the hairs on that back-of-the-neck spot felt electrified, waiting to meet the touch of Soombakiya from her fingers.
“My magnetism pulls all of you to me. Your short hairs, connected to your skin, connected to your nerves, connected to your blood, connected to your heart, intertwined with your mind thinking thoughts that are not yours, but mine.”
Richard couldn’t tell where her hand was, his excited nerves wanting her everywhere all of sudden, groaning as she straddled him, an uncharacteristic trill leaving his lips as she deftly removed his underwear before his erection tore through it.
Slits brought light to his senses, illuminated with the sight of Elowyn wearing nothing but an open silken robe, naked need, and a sense of emotional reckoning plastered all over her face. The typically-composed socialite let herself go, dragging him towards their pleasurable epicenter, as they rocked together.
She bit his ear roughly, pain matching pleasure as she continued.
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized. Say it,” she hissed at him.
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized.”
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized.”
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized.”
The mantra set their rhythm of their rough coupling, Elowyn depositing the words into his ear constantly as he released it into the ether. The message dissolved into babbling as she fucked him into oblivion, whispering something unheard to finish them off.
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized,” she purred into his ear to set him off again, several more times until she reached satisfaction, sapping him of energy he thought he would have to spare. But surprisingly, there was enough in reserve for him to stand upright, following the robed figure. Even leaving the lit dungeon and walking through the dim hallways of the official estate, the light sheen of sweat made them glow in whatever lighting caught their bodies.
Leading him to the closest bedroom befitting a Parnassus socialite woman, she roughly kissed Richard’s lips, feeling him react eventually in a full embrace, before pulling away.
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized,” she uttered to him as she sat on the bed, pressing him to the ground with Soombakiya-exuding hands on his shoulders. She whispered it again, and screamed as she felt him mouth it against her clit, cumming one last time, staining a face left babbling. She licked her own juices off of his face, only making it as far as his upper lip before his caught hers and kissed her hard again. It took a mystically-energized hand to his forehead to make him stop, but he did.
His inner avatar still reeling from the passionate assault, feeling his outer self being made to lie down and feel Elowyn back into him, wrapping his arms around her. As all the sensations died down he realized this was far from planned; he wasn’t just a sex toy for her that night, he was a good man. The reddish mark along the side of her face told him, she’d dealt with someone that wasn’t that night, and wanted to know what it meant to be wanted, and even respected more than simply obeyed.
Exhaustion soon over took them both, but not before he felt the need to whisper into her ear again:
“Connected, magnetized, mesmerized.”
Richard was surprised that was what came out, thinking he could push for more control. But the way she snuggled against him from speaking into her ear, he knew she would sleep as peacefully as he would, a symbiotic reaction between a Mistress and her pleasure slave. He would still intend to wipe the effects from his system whenever he would be placed back in the chamber again, but the emotional chord Elowyn struck he would take some shared feelings with him.
***
Only a few floors away from his mother, Junior found Hypatia had snuck into his room hours after almost everyone settled down for the night, after most of the enkindled vitality had been used up.
The two Dolls accompanying him that night put on a slow, sexy show for him. The women weren’t originally attracted to other women, but they still went through the motions of trying to one up the other in arousing each other. It didn’t matter how they devolved into robotic movements after a while, lacking the passion while still being touched and teased to wetness; actually, the lack of passion translated to resistance to the Parnassus scion, and watching women still obey despite not wanting it was even hotter to his sensibilities.
Junior was so wrapped up in the show, Hypatia had to make herself known by deftly wrapping a silk tie around his eyes, blindfolding and giggling against his ear.
“It’s 2:30 in the a.m. Does your mother know how much ‘danger’ you’re in right now?” she teased.
Junior could’ve struggled with more vigor, but he figured, hoped Hypatia would show so their conversation could continue. Remaining still, feeling that soft material impede the show, he tried to feign annoyance.
“Excuse me, young lady. I paid well for a perfectly-good show. Who is going to compensate me for my troubles?”
Feeling a body deftly move around his bed, the air felt nice on his anticipating skin, hearing whispers meant the Dolls putting on the robot show. He suddenly felt three bodies around him, two doting on him with lingering presences, and one that pressed all of them against his headboard, as the silk blindfold was released. Junior blinked his eyes open to find his eyesight inline with her plunging negligee, and pearl necklace.
“Allow me to compensate you with a better viewing experience. One where you won’t have to play with yourself, where others can play along…”
One of the Doll’s hands found their way to his gradually-stroked cock.
“You might call it a virtual reality experience, as it pulls you in so deeply, it will virtually feel like the only reality you know,” Hypatia purred, playing with every other pearl, letting two, three, or more of one strand at a time be pulled away, and then dropped back with a satisfyingly-soft collision sound.
“But I’d rather be able to reach out and touch things…” he said, ready to reach past the pearls and paw at her impressive cleavage, only to be softly pulled back by the Dolls.
“No baby, enjoy the show…”
“It looks so arousing…”
They urged him on, watching the collection pearls move as their stares collectively remained fixed on Hypatia.
“I know you’re not the kind that likes a slow burn, but I assure you it will be worth it. Trust me on this.”
“You’ve already been slowly burning for me tonight; I can tell. These Dolls seem like they’ve only been fitted to play with themselves…”
Hypatia let two pearls on the ends of each strand dance along the necklace, one after another, letting each collision sound after every other pointed syllable. Blood starting to pound more and more into his ears, it was harder to note how each collision deafened other sounds; breathing in the room, sheets shifting in the bed, every other moan, only Hypatia’s voice stayed audible enough, echoing a little like her pearls did.
“And this lovely Parnassus playboy…seemingly fitted…to play with himself…an affluent working…working a shaft…and ball bearings…”
Fingers subtly shifted from two pearls to four.
“Until you’ve handled yourself…”
Hypatia’s finger stroked the length of her top row of pearls to the tip of the row.
“Until you’re all by yourself…” moving a single pearl to let it fall unceremoniously.
“But something precious like this doesn’t have to end…if you don’t want it to…the right equation…plus the right teacher…means perpetual pleasure….if you allow someone else to…handle it…if you let pleasure…be the reward…of patience…”
Fingers moved from numerical story-telling into strange configurations that he found confusing, but it didn’t let his eyes wander away from any presented motion. Eventually, she paused, and he could feel her smile, looking up to confirm a row of beautiful pearly-whites pleased with him.
Pleasantly aroused, he smiled back, gripping her waist gently as the Dolls continued to play with him slowly. He breathed gently, loving that she was doing the same. He continued to do it deliberately as patience paid off in ways only he could know.
Of all the developed Parnassus means of control, his favorite was a specific chemical cologne meant to work with his own specific chemical make-up. The combination, especially in an aroused state of his, made him practically pheromonal. Reapplying it a few times throughout the night, the Dolls, and eventually Hypatia herself, came under its heady influence.
The Alexiou-representative wondered why her breaths were growing deeper against her will, head slightly reeling back before Junior pulled her weakened body forward, kissing her weak lips, and making her stretch and lounge against his chest where the strongest concentration of his pheromones flooded her system. He smiled down at her, and at his two Dolls, still caressing his body.
“Nice try little lady, but let me remind you whose house, whose room, whose power you’ve entered…”
Feeling her pearls touching the short curls near his stroked region, he enjoyed the cool contrast next to the volcano between his legs. Knowing her impressive parlor tricks couldn’t offset the controlling scent he’d been giving off since they’ve closed the distance with one another at the party, made him so hard, as hard as knowing his infinite arousal fueled his control.
“And don’t worry, we’ll go slow. At first. Just breathe deep…and enjoy the ride…” Lowering her head down to his crotch, he began to moan, prompting one of his Dolls to give him a deep, tongue-laden kiss as he let all of his Dolls finish him off appropriately, earth-shatteringly.
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