"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.
