Life in the Elysium

This is my first time writing erotic fiction. I hope you enjoy it, as these scenarios have been floating around in my head for a while. Be aware, this series will include a variety of adult situations, including bisexuality, interracial sex, incest, group sex and other taboo subjects that not everybody may be into. If any of these subjects bother you, there's an entire site here filled with things you may prefer more. In any event, thanks for reading.

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Whoever designed the beds in the penthouse of the Elysium deserved a raise. Alone, you swam in the bed, but when you got more than one person in them, it was a godsend. I spent Tuesday night in Nyla's room, the first night I had spent outside of my own apartments since I got home to Vegas. After the porn shoot, the Terrible Trio pretty much adopted me as an honorary fourth musketeer - I was the d'Artagnan to their Athos, Porthos and Aramis. They pulled me into Nyla's bedroom and we spent the hours after the shoot laying in bed together, engaged in heavy petting, watching TV and relaxing. As the clock ticked over to Christmas Eve, Nyla came in. She looked tired, which made sense - she had been supervising everything for hours. She stripped off her clothes, threw on some pajamas and hopped in bed with the four of us. Five in one bed was a bit tight, but we made it work. I still hadn't gotten used to the heat from other bodies when I was sleeping, and I tossed and turned most of the night, and every time I moved around, it seemed like a signal for one of the girls to start touching, kissing or fondling some part of my body.

The highlight of the night, at least for me, was I finally got to taste Gabby's pierced tits. Even during the porno shoot I'd not been able to get them in my mouth, and I made up for that while we were relaxing that night. There was no full blown sex - the Viagra had worn off and I was spent - but the taste of her tit flesh and the tang of the metal barbells was everything I had hoped it would be.

Nyla took care of us well. The next morning, we all awoke to the savory smell of two large egg quiches that had been delivered by Ciel Bleu's staff. There were too many of us for Nyla's breakfast nook (and most of the table was taken up by piles of sketches and a very large sculpture of a stylized horse cock that I would have to ask her about later), so we sat in her dining room. We were all in our comfy robes, except for Nyla, who was still in her pajamas, and instead of the Keurig, the staff had brought up a pot of coffee, which I distributed to each lady, and there were pitchers of OJ and cranberry juice as well.

The quiche hit the spot.

"What are our plans for today?" I asked Nyla.

"I have got a movie to edit," she said, forking a bite of quiche and chewing quietly. "While I do that, I hope you and these three sluts can find something productive to do. Later tonight, the family will get together for the start of our Christmas Eve celebration."

"When do we get presents?" Chloe piped up. "I love presents!"

"We open our gifts on Christmas Eve, Chloe," Gabby said, looking at her like she was brain dead. "We've done that every year. It's tradition."

"We can meet here to do our own gift exchange, and then you and Nyla will have family time with just the Sinclairs and Fishers," Lucy said.

"I'm excited. This is my favorite holiday," I said, pushing a bit of crust from my quiche around my plate. "Mom, Dad and I used to sit together in our pajamas and wait for Santa, and we'd watch A Christmas Story ten thousand times," I remembered, wistfully. "I could never stay up long enough to see him, and I always magically appeared in my bed on Christmas morning."

"You miss your Dad?" Chloe asked. "What happened to him?" It wasn't an odd question, because obviously if my Mom was marrying Solomon Sinclair my Dad was out of the picture. Still, even after all these years, the memory could be painful.

"He died. When I was about ten." I said. Chloe put her hand on mine, patting it. "That's sad," she said.

"It is. I miss him sometimes, especially on days like today. But death is a part of life, and time heals all wounds," I repeated. I couldn't tell them how many times I'd been told that over the years. I almost believed it, until someone brought Dad back up and the pain was as fresh as when it happened. I tried to put it out of my mind. "After he passed, it was just Mom and me, and me being away at boarding school, holidays like Christmas were the best and only times I got to see her. Put a premium on us spending as much time together as we could."

"It was the same way with us," Nyla said. "After momma died, Christmas was one of the few times we all got to be together. Miles was away at school for so long and I was stuck here with Daddy. That brought us closer, but I missed the family time. This is going to be the first year family Christmas feels like an actual family Christmas. With your mom and Daddy, and Miles all here together," she said.

"Aren't you leaving somebody out?" Gabby asked, archly.

"Yeah, I guess it'll be fun with this boy, too." Nyla said. I punched her in the arm. "If he can keep his dick in his pants through dessert. You better have gotten me a good present, Jack. You better not have spent all that time with Lionel when you should've been shopping for me!" she laughed.

"I think you'll like it," I said, smiling. The painting should get delivered today, if the gallery's promised shipping timeline held true. I was thinking about the trip, when suddenly I realized I had forgotten something. "Oh... fuck," I said out loud.

"What, what's wrong," Lucy said, looking worried.

"I forgot to get a gift for Mom and Sol," I said. My heart started going a mile a minute. I was going to look like the biggest asshole of all time if, after all the things they'd given me over the last week, I came to the family gathering empty handed.

Nyla look at me and cocked her head. "Well, I'm sure you can think of something they'd both like," she said. That didn't help. My mind was blank. Sol wasn't a billionaire, but he was well on his way and anything he wanted he could buy himself. Mom, too. I had today to figure out what to get them, and I started working on the problem immediately, but so far I was coming up empty.

"Well, that was a lovely breakfast," Nyla said. "But I've got a porno to edit. You kids hang out in the living room. I'll be in my studio."

Her 'studio' was the second bedroom in her suite. Her rooms and mine seemed to have a similar layout. Large main area, with a kitchen off to one side and a half-bath, with the master bedroom, walk-in closet and dressing area and the master bath, and then the formal dining area and a second bedroom directly across from the master bedroom. It was a lot of space for one person, but we filled Nyla's rooms up pretty well with the four of us. I don't think I'd ever been in the second bedroom in my apartments, now that I thought about it.

I was curious about Nyla's studio, so I followed her in there. It was maybe half the size of the master bedroom, which meant it was plenty large. There was a half completed smallish statue - I could see a number of semi-formed figures emerging from the marble, but the finished product would fit on a dining room or living room table - along with easels, paints of all kinds, a number of other work tables that were empty or covered in cloth, some stools, rows of tools, and in one corner, a computer work station with three monitors, all of a good size. It seemed like she did a good job of separating the various art forms from each other, but I was curious as to how she'd keep the marble dust from getting into the computer's inner workings. It didn't take me long to figure out that the sculpture end of the studio was full of various fans and ductwork that kept the dust down.

"This can't be your only studio," I said, looking around. "You could never do work the size of the lobby fountain or the penthouse lobby lesbians in here."

"You're very perceptive, for a white boy," she said. I raised my eyebrow, and she grinned. "I've got another studio in the lower levels that has direct access to the shipping and storage areas of the hotel. The only elevators big enough to get my larger statues around the hotel are down there, and it makes it easier to get supplies in. You don't even want to know how we got my work of those three up here," she said.

I actually DID want to know, but I didn't push it.

She sat down at the computer and booted it up. She was still in her pajamas, a velvet purple track suit, with a gothic "N" on the chest. From the pocket of her suit pants, she pulled out a thumb drive and a small, flat memory card. She dug in her other pocket and pulled out another thumb drive.

"I've got the raw footage from the two cameras on the thumb drive and the stills on this memory card. Miles was nice enough to mix some tracks for me for the background music. I want to get this done today, so we can watch it together tonight during our family Christmas time," she said.

It would sure beat A Christmas Story, I thought.

"I'll let you get to it. Do you mind if I hang out? I wouldn't mind seeing you work, if that's okay," I asked.

"Let me work on these stills and dump the raw video into my editing software. The still work is quick but tedious. Let me get through that and then I'll show you how I work my magic. You can watch TV with the girls in the other room, and I'll call you when I'm ready to show off."

I gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, and she slapped my ass playfully, and I went back into the main room.

Chloe was on the couch, fiddling with the remote control for the TV.

"I want to watch cartoons!" she said, waving the controller, which was doing nothing, and the TV remained black and lifeless.

"You've got to turn it on, Chloe," said Gabby, rolling her eyes, yanking the remote from her hands and pointing it at the TV. She pressed a button and it played a soft jingle and turned on.

Lucy sat on another couch, a pair of reading glasses on her face, her legs curled up underneath her and her red hair spilling over her shoulders. She had a very thick book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. I couldn't see what she was reading, but she was engrossed in it.

I sat down on the couch between Gabby and Chloe, and the two of them snuggled in to me. I could definitely get used to this, I thought. I started scrolling through the channels. I hadn't seen the news for a few days, so I told Chloe her cartoons would have to wait a bit, and I switched it to the local news channel.

The scene shifted to a press conference, the Governor of Nevada behind a podium.

"...My private life is my own business, and I will not be intimidated by my political opponents or the Clark County District Attorney. I've served honorably as Governor for over a year, and before that on the Las Vegas City Council. I was instrumental in passing a variety of laws designed to make Las Vegas a better place, reduce government regulation and interference in the lives of the citizenry, and this is what I get in return - government interference in my own personal life. I won't stand for it. Times are changing, and I am not ashamed to admit that I have a personal life, just like everyone in this town. If the former President of the United States can carry on with his own daughter and nobody bats an eye, I don't know why anybody would take the time to single me out..." he droned on. This was the last thing I wanted to think about on Christmas Eve, so I switched the channel.

"Nobody would care about the Governor and his sister if they were hot," Lucy said, never taking her eyes from her book. I smiled, remembering Mom had said the same exact thing.

"Yes! Mickey Mouse Clubhouse!" Chloe yelled, and she tore the remote from my hand.

I suffered through Saturday morning cartoons with the girls for another half hour until I heard Nyla shouting from her office.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!" she said. Chloe was too engaged in the show to notice, Lucy's nose was buried in her book, but Gabby and I both looked up, then jumped off the couch and rushed into Nyla's studio.

"What's going on?" Gabby said, and I could tell she was in fight mode. Her body was tense, and her eyes were scanning for threats.

Nyla pointed at the computer screens, where she had the raw footage of the porn on queued up in her editing software. This was clearly before the shoot had started, when the camera men had been testing their cameras and adjusting the lights. Paused on the screen was a shot of a tall, dark production assistant with short blonde hair. She had a cell phone in her hand.

"Who the fuck is that?" Nyla asked again, staring at the image.

"That appears to be a production assistant," I said. "There were a bunch of them last night on the set."

Nyla gave me one of her Frost Queen looks. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. What I mean is, who is that - I know all the PAs on my team, and I have never seen that chick before. And what is she doing with a phone in her hand? That was a closed set, no phones."

Gabby ran out of the room, and then came back, her cell phone in her hand. She pressed a quick dial button, and started speaking.

"This is Icehouse actual. We have a potential security breach of Vespers last night during the Christmas photo shoot. I want all the security camera footage for the whole area pulled and in my hands in ten minutes. Lock down Vespers, and round up every production assistant that worked on the family photo shoot and bring them to room 4 of the penthouse." She hung up.

I stared at the image on the screen and a cold chill went down my spine. I knew that face. I had seen that face before. Just a few days ago, on TV.

"Do you mind," I asked, reaching around Nyla and grabbing the mouse and keyboard, not waiting for a response. I pulled up a browser window and typed a name into google image search, pulling up a bunch of photos of a tall, dark woman with long semi curly black hair. I compared them to the frozen image on the other monitor of the fake production assistant with the blonde hair - obviously a wig - and then slammed my hand down on the desk. Nyla jumped, but Gabby didn't even flinch.

"Who the fuck is that?" Nyla asked for the third time, frustration obvious in her voice. I could feel the heat rising in my face.

"That's Avery Locke," I said.

Nyla looked at me and went as pale as her dark skin allowed.

"We need to tell Mom and Sol," I said. "Merry fucking Christmas."

* * *

I learned what Room 4 was. It was in the left wing, the same side as both my apartments and Nyla's. It was the main security office for the residences. Unlike the residential suites, it had just one large room, with windows that were covered by thin sheers, and I could see darker curtains that could be completely closed to shut out most light. There were a handful of cubicles in the center of the room, but the main focus was where the kitchen should have been - the entire wall was filled with television screens, all showing various video feeds, all in color, from around the residential areas of the hotel. On one bank of monitors, however, there were views of Vespers, views of the casino floor, the pool area, hallways throughout the hotel, the gym, the barber shop, the shops, everywhere. Those didn't seem to be live, as the time stamps were moving too quickly. In front of the screens was a long table filed with electronics, and two security guards who I had seen before but didn't know were seated at the controls. One was monitoring the live feeds of the residences, the other was searching through last night's footage of the entire property, searching for other places Avery may have visited while she was on the premises.

I also noted two very large gun cabinets, filled with black long rifles that appeared to be some kind of AR-15 variant. The Sinclair Group did not fuck around with their security. After learning the story about Lena Sinclair's actual death, I could completely understand why.

There were cushioned benches along the windows, and seated there were the two makeup artists, the three cameramen from the porn shoot, and half a dozen other people who I assumed were the production assistants from last night. I didn't recognize any of them without their black outfits. Lionel and Biggs were both present, along with a shorter woman with a buzz cut who I could tell was dressing them down, even though she kept her voice calm and low.

Me, Gabby, Sol, Mom and Nyla were all there, clustered around the monitors, watching as one of the guards replayed video from Vespers. There were a dozen angles, including images from the loading dock and the back entrance behind the club that led out to the street, where deliveries could be made without having to haul things up from the main hotel delivery area in the basement or through the casino proper.

"This is amazing," I said to Nyla. "The whole place is wired for video, and it's all 4k quality."

"Yeah, we haven't had a chance to upgrade to the newest resolution, so 4k is the best we can do, but it's usually good enough for security purposes," Nyla said. We had all changed into regular clothes. She was wearing jeans and a wide necked sweater. I had on a polo and khakis, and Mom and Sol were in business clothes, and had obviously came up from their offices on the 13th floor. Gabby had changed into a tight t-shirt and cargo pants, with what appeared to be combat boots, and was wearing a black ball-cap, her hair - which I had only seen in various styles of 40s bouffant so far - pulled back tight into a pony tail and stuffed into the hat. She looked all business.

"You should see the main security area downstairs," Gabby said. "It looks like mission control meets Star Trek." I wanted to see it.

"There's the bitch," Mom said, pointing at the screen. There was a flash of blonde wig that went by one of the outside cameras, and tracked onto a different angle and a different monitor as the figure in dark clothes came fully into the frame. The doors on the loading dock did not have handles and were supposedly only capable of being opened from the inside, but there was an external lock, to allow workers who were finished loading to lock the doors from the outside before driving away. The cameras showed Avery bending over and inserting some kind of a device into the lock, then attaching a round suction cup style device to the door. After a few seconds, she tested the suction cup device, and then pulled on it. It worked like a door handle, and the door swung open and she slipped inside.

The video tracked her moving from the loading area to the club proper, and then she fell in like any one of the other production assistants. She was on video helping to prep the set, she was carrying towels - doing everything and acting like she belonged there.

"What did the other PAs have to say," Sol asked Gabby. "Why did they just let her start participating if none of them knew her?"

Gabby grimaced. "She said she was a last minute fill-in for one of the PAs who had called in sick. I checked. One of the PAs HAD called in sick. Food poisoning. She was a tall blonde with short hair," Gabby noted. "As far as we can tell, the illness was legitimate, but how Locke knew she'd be sick we haven't been able to determine yet. That PA is a recent hire, and she doesn't live on the premises. There was only one person, one of the makeup artists, who knew the new hire and she was the one Locke fed the bullshit story to. The other PAs thought she was the new hire."

"Could Locke have poisoned her?" Nyla asked. I thought that was a little far fetched, but Gabby nodded. "We're going to interview her later today, but I think that's likely. From everything I've seen here, Locke planned this pretty well. How she knew about the shoot, I don't know, but we did have orders of props and things and the Sinclairs have always done a holiday shoot like this close to Christmas - you all send out thousands of Christmas cards - so she could have figured it out. She's clearly not dumb. It's not easy to pierce our security, and she did it like a pro, and in such a way that there'd be a minimum likelihood of her being discovered. Question is, what was she doing?"