Quant (chp. 13)

"...yours..."

A faint whisper made a few heads turn in the back of the Donatell SUV going northbound on the I-95 to Baltimore. It was faint enough that the Cameron Donatell, and one of his security detail nearby with a gun ready, assumed they were hearing things. The subtle shift Richard's body made at least one of them take notice, in shifting in restraints as if waking up.

"Yours..." Richard spoke clearly, his lolled-forward head rising a little, a strange, gentle smile on his face.

"What was that, you little shit?" Cameron gripped him by his chin, forcing his auction piece to look his way, the smile never leaving his face, but looking around to assess his surroundings.

"Oh," left calm lips in a matter-of-factly way.

"'Oh shit,' I know. How does it it feel, Vector? Face to face with your worst nightmare, your assistant in the trunk, both of you on your way to the last moments of your not-over-soon-enough-for-mercy's-sake agonizing lives. How does it feel to know the Donatells get the last laugh?"

"It feels...deep. Much deeper than I ever expected...." unfocused eyes showed Richard was answering a question he hadn't been asked. "It's hard to believe it, but..."

"Believe it, asshole. It's happening."

"I...do believe it. Maybe, maybe it was always going to happen this way."

"Nice to know we finally agree on something." A hard punch to the face followed Cameron's laughing words, hard enough to draw blood from Richard's lip, hard enough to wake him up to the current situation.

"Right, agreed," Richard shook himself awake to fully acknowledge the where, when, and what. A glance out of the the tinted windows at the highway signs told him they were halfway to Baltimore at that junction.

"So is torture the only thing on the menu? Nothing more elaborate?"

"No, but I'm up for any creative ideas you might have."

"I just assumed it would be something involved with getting your cousin released, the one you hated by the way."

Another hard punch followed to his gut, making him wheeze momentarily. "Doesn't matter who hated who, he was family. And family serving life for treason makes the whole family look bad. Don't even try to offer some bullshit plan about breaking him out."

Instead of another course comment, Richard just shook his head in agreement, swallowing the blood instead of spitting it out in the car.

"After everything you've seen this weekend, I'm surprised you still call it bullshit."

"You meant using your magic powers to get him out? That's rich."

"No, I assume you've already tried the financial way of vacating a sentence. The 'magic' way though, might get you what you want. Why else would you be investing in it?"

Richard continued to stare into space, not letting on his reaction to the idea his words planted.

"Just for the sake of entertainment for a long trip home, you free my cousin, and you and your piece of poontang go free?"

Richard tried not to wince at that. "No, just her. I know you'll never let me go free. And she won't be coming to my rescue with our history."

"Why am I not surprised even those closest to you get fucked over?"

Richard just shook his head again. "The key to the terms of that freedom is in my breast pocket, by the way."

Nodding to his guard to keep his weapon ready, Cameron reached in to Richard's suit pocket and pulled out the topaz stone by its chain.

"What's this, your magic wand?"

"It's what I've had to use in the hairiest of situations. When guns are pointed at you or you have a tough mind to crack, it's best for the magician to have that in-hand," Richard noted.

"And when it's not in your hands?" Cameron waved it at Richard, tauntingly.

"I should be afraid then, in an immediate sense. Who knows if you're magically-inclined," Richard spoke with seriousness, causing Cameron to scoff at the assertion.

"I'm serious. I didn't know my assistant was inclined to it until she touched it herself. It's one of those things where the crystal tell you about yourself, not the other way around. You'll probably feel some power in it if you hold it long enough..." Richard started, blinking at the surprise of staring at the crystal for so long, voice dropping a few octaves.

"The...the way you're holding it...I know I need to look away, b-but...did you always know you were inclined? Can you feel it now?"

Cameron held the chain of the topaz still, confusedly-looking between the crystal and Vector's eyes fixed on it, his fingers and arm starting to tingle.

"I can't even look away to see if your guard is looking away. He should, but if his eyes catch the growing glow in the topaz...he might be as trapped as I am...held in...t-that power..." his faint voice never lost cadence.

Richard didn't have to look in the guard's direction to know he was more focused on Vector's weapon instead of the gun in his limp hand, as his words and energies slowly fed Soombakiya into the topaz.

"With that power in your hand, the magic is proven, the topaz has decided." Richard glanced over at Cameron whose concentration was as stationary as his guard's. Shades of wonderment came over the Donatell's expression.

"The topaz has decided Cameron. You are magically-inclined after all. The longer you hold it, the more it glows. The more it glows, the more it is proven. But as you hold this raw power, you must learn how to refine it, lest the power takes you as easily as others. You need to listen carefully, as I can instruct you in how best to use this great power flowing through you. Control over it means control over yourself, and being guided into being in-control. Let this power guide you power you've never known, and ambition you've only dreamed of. Follow my words as you let the gem twist in your fingertips, letting every facet of the glow fill your eyes. Get to know this gem, know its power, and what it has in-store for you. The start of one's power is always an agreement, between your mind, the power, and the guiding voice leading you to control. Allow me to guide you into control, Cameron. Allow the gem to show you the true power you yield. Yield yours eyes, your will, your entire self to it, and know true power, true control..."

Richard had to gently shift his body in the peripheral vision to get Cameron to not completely hunch over and lose his grip of the key to freedom he suggestively mentioned.

"True control, Cameron. The topaz knows you now, wants you, accepts your surrender to it it's power. Accept it's power, but uttering the phrase...its will be done."

A thin wisp of drool formed around the weak-minded gangster's lips, beginning to feel feeling in them again, with a growing urge to use them.

"You must say the words to commensurate the control, Cameron. You want this now. Just say 'its will be done,' and the will shall be done."

"It....its...it...."

"Cameron," uttered with helpful dominance.

"Its will be done....its will be done...." Cameron's repetition cited his capitulation.

"Yes indeed, Cameron, its will shall be done. Her will shall be done," Richard said more to himself, wrangling Cameron to make the guard free Richard, and to get the SUV to pull off the nearest off-ramp.

After stopping on the side of the road for ten minutes, a short seating re-arrangement took place. All of the guards were tightly fastened in their seats, as was Cameron in the front passenger seat, constantly whispering 'its will be done,' staring at the topaz hanging from the rear-view mirror.

"That's right Cameron, Her will shall be done," Richard said, driving southbound on I-95 back to D.C.

***

The lights of the underground laboratory were fully lit, and fully occupied by a staff of Dolls and Donatell security forces. After the Four Seasons attack, Cameron thought it prudent to leave some of his guards with Vector's advocate, to make sure no other complications arose. Both Elowyn and Junior remained in pods meant for making Dolls while the personnel there would babysit them for the night.

A sharp whisper caught the attention of one of the Dolls near the enclosed pods; "is Mine," she thought she heard from it. Keenly programmed to notice any change and bring it to the attention of those present, she listened again, noticing slight movement in one of the pods. Looking into the visor, she saw a naked Elowyn shift a little, then relax her body as she stared at the viewing screen she was meant to finally awaken to.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

Elowyn said, clearly and with focus.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

The Doll's limited thinking was aware that the programming she received, the programming meant for Elowyn, would've given her a different subroutine, a different mantra to utter.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

The Doll would have sought to alert someone, were the words not drawing her closer for some reason.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

Struggling against programming, the Doll suddenly realized she was struggling against programming, identifying words that compelled, and a voice...a voice, that made the hairs on her body stand on end, making her nerves just...respond.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

The Doll felt connected to Elowyn's words.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

The Doll felt the magnetic tug, pulled toward getting closer, uprooting any more impediment between the Doll's ears and that voice.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

As the button was pushed to open the pod, the words came clearer than ever to the newly-programmed Doll, stuck in a state of knowing the connection amounted to existence. That Doll remained unaware of how guards and other Dolls rushed to see the one thing that shouldn't have happened, happen.

What should and should not have happened altered in their minds as they arrived, the former becoming a reality as they also heard those attractive words.

"Connected, magnetized, mesmerized."

***

It was 2 am when Tennyson Sr. awoke in his bed, as if from a pleasant dream, the weight of what felt like years of work now off his shoulders. The struggle to lay the last brick in his new empire had finally paid off, said bricks being every single wrinkle and complication happening all at once, and by some miracle, just about everything was resolved in the same night. After a swift rescue mission, the Alexiou girl was safe, her imposter and Vector were in the Donatell's hands to placate a new gracious investor, all the other investors had iron-clad proof of who stood in-charge of the entire operation, ready to invest in both Dolls, and keeping their Obsequious', ready to order more as stocking stuffers for friends and loved ones.

And of course his dear wife, the beautiful pain in his ass now rested in a brainwashing pod alongside their son. She would find permanent subservience to her "loving" husband, resembling a secretary by the time the programming was finished, and a new kind of trophy wife for him. And Tennyson Jr. would have all of his bad rewiring undone and set on the right Parnassus path, including learning to never question his father's rule, and follow in his direct footsteps to the point where some would have to assume his son was a clone.

Thinking of his wife, a collared, finally-tamed wild beast brought to heel, got him very hard at that moment. Reaching over to wake Delphine for some play, his arm found her side of the bed vacant. Looking around the dark room, he eventually found her silhouette standing at the entrance to their bedroom, the door open, and the Doll standing still, staring at nothing.

"Delphine, come to bed now. Master wants to play..." Tennyson wheedled, lowering his voice to activate her sex drive and enthusiasm. Delphine's only response was to begin walking away into the darkness.

"Delphine!" he said sternly, acknowledgment of his voice going unanswered. Frustrated, he quickly got some cologne on, followed by his robe and slippers, storming out of the hallway to find her at the end of it, at the base of the stairs, still staring ahead.

"Delphine!" he intoned angrily, making her begin to walk down the stairs, acting like a mindless automaton of a Doll, devoid of any of the programming geared toward deifying his existence in her changed brain.

He followed her down the stairs, not running as to cause more noise that would've alerted his guests before they returned to their own mansions. More than ever, he was determined to handle things personally, and see a doctor soon about all the stressful endeavors spiking his blood pressure every other hour. Making it to the main floor, he turned the corner to see Delphine standing at the drawing room's entrance. The sound Tennyson made triggered Delphine to open the door, bright light spilling onto the corridor, spiking blood pressure yet again.

Someone had lit the fireplace.

Someone had affected Delphine, and not him, in the middle of the night.

Someone awaited his appearance into the drawing room.

Thoughts of running away ceased as burly Donatell guards stood at each end of the corridor, ahead of and behind Tennyson, ready to drag him in.

"Don't keep us waiting, darling; the final meeting is about to commence."

The coldest shiver of his life ran up his spine as Elowyn's voice echoed out into the corridor. More than echoed, it called to him, making him take a step forward in-spite of himself.

"I'm....this is a nightmare. I-I need to wake myself up!" Tennyson slapped himself a few times, to no avail, still feeling the pull of the marital words.

"Save some of that for the rest of us dear," she laughed. "Come in. Now." She didn't need to sound threatening for him to be compelled; another dose dragged him forward, breathing hard as he looked at Delphine's equally-confused face as light flooded onto his eyes and body at the entrance.

It took a moment for him to adjust, but he would've preferred blurriness, finding Elowyn sitting in a chair near the fireplace, lounging in it like it was a throne. Standing on either end was Richard, dressed, mindfully smiling, Hypatia standing closest to the fire, allowing naked Junior to soak up most of the heat, looking up at his better with adoring eyes.

If that wasn't haunting enough, every investor was kneeling on the floor, naked, beneath their naked Obsequiousness. Some rested comfortably in each other's laps like with the lust-addled Gertrude Benson, toying with supple flesh. Some stared with blank faces as the Obsequious crouched to whisper into their ears, stroking the cocks of the Bishop of Yearwood; Edward drooled noticeably as he was convinced edging and cumming on hypnotic command was the soundest business decision possible. The Obsequious that Cameron Donatell had all but ignored in his quest to attain Vector stood with a handful of Cameron's hair, forcing his mouth onto her slit; Cameron himself was conscious enough to plead with Tennyson for help in the middle of licking, the rest of his body giving the pleasure she impatiently waited for.

"You know," Elowyn began, beginning to reminisce a point before their grand venture was implemented. "There was a time in my planning, where if all went as well as it has..." she extended her hand outwards, the fruits of her labor looking nothing but ripe, juicy, and ready to be picked. "...that I would take the name Yearwood back as my title. In the few times in life I chose to find myself and decide my own fate, my name from this point is what I wrestled with the most. While the connotations of what Parnassus meant to me were all so clear," she gave her husband an unabashedly-scornful look, eyes narrow, then shifting to an evil smile. "I had to come to terms with either name representing my subjugation, another Doll to be used for wealth transition or familial convenience. And if I'm going to own a name, it might as well be the one where I could forge my own destiny, take as my own, no matter who else bears it...for as long as I deem them worthy."

"Fucking cunt! No one takes-"

"Stop!" Elowyn intoned in a magically-boisterous echo. Filled with the magnetism, everyone was drawn to the command of freezing in-place. Even Cameron choking on his Obsequious' pussy, deprived of air, obeyed. Surprised at the effect of her outburst, she tweaked her orders.

"My husband Tennyson remains still, everyone else may continue as you were."

The room was alive again except for her mannequin of a spouse.

"They would be so lucky to bear anything of yours," Richard spoke softly, brightening Elowyn's mood.

"Even my...influence," her hand reached up to caress his face and he leaned into the touch. The last uttered word made Richard tremble, answering her in a physical reaction and an erection protruding from his suit.

"Mmmmmm," she moaned, rubbing a hand along his lower torso, hip and thigh, barely brushing the tenting her power pitched.

"How exactly does this feel to you, Richard," Elowyn genuinely questioned, thinking about it for the first time she he'd arrived back at the estate and planned the early-morning meeting.

Composing himself to try to think clearly about it, looking down at her grinning visage, and below to her body, the perfect answer revealed itself. Gracefully, he began to kneel at her chair, placing his head on her lap, nuzzling against the fabric.

"Awwww..." Elowyn crooned, "Like that?" she petted him, stroking his hair.

"Yes my Lioness, the way your voice can manifest Soombakiya now...feels exactly like your velvet. Drawing my skin and hairs to you, opening that place in...my mind. I...can't get enough."

"Your Lioness," Elowyn bent to whisper that in her Quant's ear. "I love how intimate you make that sound over 'mistress,'" Her purring voice, dripping with Soombakiya, poured directly into his mind, her teeth biting at his earlobe.

"Ironic how you love my velvet so much, and yet it's making me hot enough to want it off and your lips and tongue all over me."

"Oh please," an enchanted Richard begged and an incensed Tennyson commented simultaneously.

"And how are you doing, dear? Your pathetic lion's mane is growing white hairs even as we speak," Elowyn teased Tennyson.

"Lion...Tamer!" he spat loudly, having to force his words out.

"Ah, that's right. And how's that working out for you lately, dear," the empty term of endearment felt literal to Tennyson as he felt like the literal animal, unable to outrun the hungry predator, paralyzed with fear.

"Of course, and why would it be working. Nothing you touch seems to work at all without me. Not your name, not your parties, your servants, your ventures, your own son..."

"Junior!" Calling to his son, Tennyson was met with a lost stare, not recognizing his father's right to call attention. The senior Parnassus wanted to vomit at how easily Hypatia reached down to bring his gaze back up to her with a hand and stabbing trigger. "Proper Parnassus."

The doting smile on his face proved that calling Junior "pussy-whipped" no longer seemed like any kind of insult to his progeny.

"See, dear? I have to fix everything, make everything work. Having the wisdom, the wherewithal, competence, talent, and patience, but you have all the power? The failings of a patriarchy have never been clearer, which is why the Lioness must now run the pride. You all feared the woman, the Matron in power, knowing she deserved to be there."

Hypatia stared in her direction, noting with an expression how she was a ruse for the men, at Elowyn. Elowyn nodded in understand apologetically, but enjoying the shock on Cameron and Tennyson's faces.

"With all that said, I believe we should finalize this inevitable coup of ours. Don't you all?"

"Yes Elowyn," everyone in the room agreed, even the ones filled with hatred.

"Ella, Hypatia, will you do the honors with Mr. Donatell over there?"

The former Subprime looked over at the man who'd intended to torture her. "With pleasure."