Yelena And The 30 Lovers Ch 02

Chapter 2: The Party

Elmeera catches up with her wealthy libertine guests and contemplates who to entrust with her little mouse first. Read through and cast your vote to decide Yelena's fate! As always, this is just fantasy.

-Inescapable

Many of my friends and acquaintances think of me as creative, because of my lavish parties and excellent decor. I try to take the accusation with good humor, knowing it's meant as a compliment.

Aldis was excessively creative -- so much so that I've had to ban him on several occasions from my dear Ulla's chamber for fear that his creativity would provoke a complete breakdown. And my grown daughter, Selera, was cursed with a dreadfully creative childhood, to the point where we couldn't even keep a tutor for her until we, well, kept one.

But I must forsake modesty to say I have no use for creativity myself, because I have something better: patience. Once I set on a course of action, I simply take my time to find the right pieces and assemble them correctly. Why flit about from inspiration to inspiration like a starving poet, when you have the wealth, resources, and upbring to do otherwise?

So I fixed my outfit and makeup and returned to my guests, looking for the first few pieces for my newest project: collaborators who could be trusted to guide my little mouse on her adventures.

Vincent was the first to greet me.

"Elmeera, you look darling as ever," he said, in his gruff baritone.

"Not half as darling as your lovely date, Vincent," I said, smiling at the wide-eyed, wide-hipped blond hanging on Vince's arm who was currently adjusting a rather daring scarlet dress that had no doubt been purchased by her much older suitor a few hours before.

The girl smiled back nervously, covering her generous and extravagantly displayed cleavage with one hand, as if it had slipped out without her notice.

"Oh, hi! I'm Callie, and you have such a lovely house," she said, shaking Elmeera's hand vigorously. "Although I guess the word is château, isn't it?"

"Estate, I supposed, but thank you, dear," Elmeera said. "If you two stick around, I'd love to give you a complete tour later in the evening."

"Oh, that sounds great, but I have to leave early so I can rest up for my history midterm in the morning."

"Oh, a college girl," I said, glancing at Vince. "Is that how you two met?"

"Oh, not at Vince's college," Callie responded. "No, a dean dating a student would be... frowned upon."

Elmeera smiled, waiting for her to continue. The girl's flush and hesitation told her the answer.

"We actually met at the bar where she works," Vince explained a little lasciviously, seeming to enjoy the girl's discomfort.

"Ah, of course."

Another of Vincent's strippers, then, although one with her faculties intact. A new relationship, then.

I had told myself to cross Vince off the list. He was Aldis' younger brother, and the more eccentric of the two. Taking on the role of Dean of Psychology six months before had seemed like a good sign -- even if the job had been purchased with family money -- but his behavior had only grown stranger.

Towards the end of his last relationship, he'd taken to referring to the girl as, "my experiment," even in front of her. I had shrugged it off. I prefer candor in men, even at the expense of tact. And whatever the experiment had been, it initially seemed to improve the girl -- or at least the experience of being around her.

She'd tried to be charitable towards the girl when she first met her; her low birth certainly wasn't her fault, nor the rather unsophisticated dress sense that no doubt came from it.

More tiresome had been the bragging about her accomplishments, her political campaigns, her frustratingly antagonistic politics. So when she grew quiet and cheerful, and her contributions dwindled to giggles and making the most of her cleavage, everyone had counted it as personal growth, on multiple fronts.

I would have counted it a rather touching success, if Aldis hadn't told me about what happened on the evening she disappeared. The dim little thing had been hunched in a corner, frantically abusing herself while giving fellatio to an antique candlestick, while her date strolled obliviously around the garden.

Aldis quickly took it away from her, and tried to return her to her senses. He had almost coaxed her up off her knees when her cheek happened to brush against his crotch, and the girl was consumed with the same undignified compulsion.

At least, that's how he tells it; I suspect my husband was rather exaggerating his innocence because we'd agreed to mention our outside interests to each other before indulging in them. I'm not angry -- even at her best, it would have hardly counted as cheating -- but I wasn't able to mention that to him before he told me his version of events.

It had almost gone quite badly. There'd been company about at the time, and the girl had almost caused a scene, but Aldis had been resourceful enough to enlist the help of the kitchen staff, who dutifully occupied her until Vince could be located.

Although I have no doubt it was necessary, it apparently had an unexpected effect on Vince's experiment, and by the time my husband made it back with his brother, whatever remained of the girl's original public persona had been replaced by a rather vulgar sexual servility that she'd no doubt previously reserved for her low class friends.

At any rate, it all did turn out alright. As I recall, the kitchen staff retained her for a as a bonus, although I can't recall the exact arrangement, or what became of the girl. If there's anything left of her original personality, I'm sure her political conscience is somewhat mollified to find she's serving working men.

Turning the whole evening over in my head, I realized that if anything, it proved how much Vince could be trusted. After all, it was Vincent himself who caught Ulla snooping around, and prudently put her in chemically induced slumber until we could deal with her. So I know he can keep a secret.

And if not for that night, Ulla would never have made the difficult journey from a rather disloyal and overcurious employee to my dearest treasure. He also showed his resourcefulness, somehow keeping his job and ensuring neither the papers nor the police became involved; all in all, no harm, no foul.

I looked up, struggling to playback what he'd just said. "I'm so sorry, Vincent. I was lost in memories for a moment."

"Pleasant ones, I hope," he said good-naturedly. "I'll leave you to make your rounds. Say hello to my brother if you would. I have an experiment that might interest him," he said, his eyes flicking to his new stripper, whose name I'd already forgotten.

I nodded, giving my approval to whatever the two planned to do, the terms of my agreement with Aldis, satisfied.

"

I

may have one that will interest you as well," I said. "In a little while," I added hastily, immediately regretting opening my mouth.

If he saw my husband first, he'd ask him about it, and I really didn't want them plotting. My husband is quite sane, but terrible at planning, while his brother is the opposite on both counts. Having the two get started before I could lay down rules and make the necessary calls could be disastrous.

"Really? Well, my dear, I'm glad my brother is still the same adventurer you married. I really should go find him and say, hello," he said, turning to leave.

Shit.

"I didn't say it involved him, Vincent, and I'd appreciate if-"

"Oh, don't worry Elmeera. I'll be the soul of discretion," he said, leading his date away.

* * * * *

Well, what was said was said, and making a scene wouldn't help. With his date along, Vincent hopefully would use some discretion. I pushed the episode out of my mind as soon as I spied my dearest friend, and sometimes rival, Annette, holding court across the room. Despite engaging half a dozen admirers, she saw me immediately, and bid a hasty adieu to her companions, leaving the men staring and blinking at each other sullenly.

"Elmeera, my darling!" Annette said, exchanging air kisses. "Another perfect fete."

"Dear Annette, you look as beautiful as ever. How do you manage so many admirers?"

"Oh, they're easy," she said, gesturing to her pale décolletage, floating on a sea of lace. "I put on my heavy overcoat, and away the admirers go. I take it off, and back they all come. But you, Elmeera. You love me even when I am all bundled up!"

I gave her a wicked smile. "I'd even do the bundling if you'd permit. But tell me: do you have any favorites among them?"

"Oh yes, my projets," Annette pondered. "Yes, eh, there is this young boy from the town. A dancer. He writes me poems every night, gives me mournful eyes whenever I enter the room."

"And how are the poems?"

"Terrible. I, how you say, punish him for each one. I think he only writes them for to be punished now," Annette laughed musically.

"You indulge him," I said, my tone playfully reproving.

She sighed. "I do. And he is becoming a bore. What I am really looking for is a woman who can't resist me. Someone discrete." She fluttered her long lashes. "Do you know anyone of that description, my darling Elmeera?"

"I just might, dear Annette."

She looked shocked. "So you would let me do the bundling?"

"If only I could bring myself. But no, I share your tastes too closely," I sighed. "No, it would be another, and it would be a brief romance."

"The briefer the better. I'd rather be heartsick than bored," she said, her voice sparkling with delight at the mystery of the new lover.

Her smile fled.

"You must tell me soon," she said, hastily kissing my cheek.

"Of course, Annette," I replied, so surprised by the abrupt change in demeanor that her back was turned before I'd even spoken.

Where could she be heading off to in such a hurry?

The answer oozed from behind me.

* * * * *

"Elmeera, how nice to see you."

"Oh, hello Ilias," I said, coolly. "Checking out the local talent?"

"Hahaha! No, no. Paying my respects as a patron of the arts. Well, that and saying hello to a few friends and associates."

"They seem happy to see you too," I said, glancing after Annette, who had somehow already assembled a new court across the room.

"Oh, Annie over there? I taught her niece an honest trade, and she's never forgiven me for it. The French, am I right?"

Every husband has that one friend his wife can't stand. Ilias' behavior was generally tolerable (if just barely), but the effect he had on other men had been too much -- particularly when he'd enlisted my husband's help in a way that had been so hurtful to dear Annette.

The woman in question -- Sally -- hadn't actually been Annette's biological niece, but the daughter of a close friend who'd died when she was 16. Annette had always been close to the child and, kind soul that she was, she'd agreed to take the girl in. Two years later, Sally had graduated and was going to a very respectable school when she had the misfortune of meeting Ilias. He'd flattered the sheltered girl, paid her lavishly to do a series of modeling shoots, plied her with party drugs, and finally -- well, I'm sure you can figure it out.

My husband, I suppose playing the gracious host, allowed Ilias to use all sorts of facilities on our estate with no supervision. God knows what they got up to in the pantry or the basement playroom, never mind the kennels or the stables! And I have little doubt that Vincent's psychological aptitudes played a significant roll in the young woman's corruption, although he has yet to admit it.

They're not entirely to blame; under the fetish masks, harnesses, and everything else, I'm sure no one even knew who she was but her and Ilias, and she certainly couldn't tell anyone. I admired and still admire Aldis' loyalty to his friends, but there are limits, and keeping this from me really was inexcusable. The secrecy was precisely how Ilias managed to trick them into helping do such disrespectable things with a respectable person.

Ilias had managed to smooth things over eventually, but only just. He'd returned the girl to Annette eventually, at least mostly. He did warn her that Sally -- or Cici, as she was now called -- would feel compelled to do him "favors" now and then. Dear Annette might have made a bigger stink out of it if he hadn't pointed out just how useful Cici could be for her. Annette is still extremely beautiful, but having an utterly shameless 19-year-old porn star as her procuress and sex slave is no doubt invaluable in many of her "projets."

And to Annette's credit, she made the best of things. One night recently, she even had the girl join us. I was there alone with her, two bottles into the night, and we were both feeling quite warm from exchanging recollections, when she'd called up for the girl.

Cici came bounding down the stairs in a uniform from her high school days, stretched quite fetchingly over her expanded endowments. What happened next is a story for another day, but Annette certainly enjoyed the evening as much as I did, and her little slut was nigh insatiable.

Still, naturally she wanted more for the girl than, well, any of her current occupations. And although she's forgiven the other men, she still despises Ilias.

"Well, she has her reasons, as you well know," I said. "I trust you're a bit more careful with where you ply your trade these days."

"Yeah, of course! Strangers, sure. Daughters of acquaintances -- you know, if something comes up. But you guys are like family. I screwed up once, and I'm glad you found it in your hearts to forgive me," he said, in a voice every bit as genuine as Cici's new tits.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," I said.

And I was. As repulsive as I found him, he wasn't the worst person to bring into this. He had a lot of experience with girls like my mouse, and if she needed a forever home and a new occupation, he could certainly provide. I'm sure we could even arrange to visit and enjoy her company from time to time. It was keeping the other boys in line that would be the issue.

Just then, I spotted Aldis coming downstairs over Ilias' shoulder. This would be a terrible time for Ilias to tempt him. My God, with all the hints I'd dropped in my excitement, if the three got together....

I quickly scanned the room, and almost sighed with relief when I found who I was looking for. On the far side was Vincent, slowly making his way to the back patio with whoever she was. He was no doubt going there to enjoy some privacy, as that part of the estate was currently closed to the public. Now to kill two birds with one stone.

"You know, to show there are no hard feelings, I have a tip for you."

I nodded towards the couple.

"I think Vince is running a little experiment tonight, and may need one

and only one

assistant."

For all I knew he was. Once Ilias joined him, he probably would be.

Ilias smiled, and nodded his understanding. "Thanks. I understand and accept your terms," he said, with an artless directness.

"Give my regards to your husband. I'll see him Wednesday for cards."

"I will, Ilias," I said, smiling genuinely. It was good to see growth in your husband's friend -- if not in character, at least in tractability.

* * * * *

Looking around, I spotted luckless Henry in the corner, talking to a young woman -- an up and coming artist who seemed to be looking for an exit. I must admit, unappealing as he was, I pitied Henry a little.

Despite the rich young playboy act, he always seemed to be chasing a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. I half suspected Yelena fell into Aldis' clutches simply trying to flee Henry's pestering.

But let's face it, he was an utter prat. His family had been bailing him out of this or that misadventure since he was first expelled from an exclusive coed school for a rather over-exuberant prank involving rope and sheers.

But that wasn't the worst part. You see, Henry's family was old money, like mine or Aldis'. Having to bail out inept and incompetent offspring is the sort of problem that has to be dealt with nearly every generation for at least one child.

No, the real problem was that he lacked the good sense to let others handle things. It went even beyond that; he thought himself some sort of mastermind, and always managed to come up with a plan that made the situation much worse.

The most infamous episode occurred last summer when, presumably after either seeing some History or Discovery channel show about The Odyssey (Henry was not much of a reader), he'd planned an elaborate sailing voyage around the Mediterranean.

It had sounded harmless enough; the family had a relationship with a young, but skillful captain named Julia. She'd worked in the industry since she was 13, first doing menial tasks such as cooking and cleaning the deck during the summers, then working her way up until, at just the age of 18, she captained her first cruise. By the time Henry got his big idea, she was 23, and both patient enough and well-paid enough to safely ferry him about.

Or so it was thought.

Things had started off well enough. He'd brought a friend along -- a rambunctious college sophomore named William, with a fair bit of experience in yachting. I never met him personally, but I've heard he was a rather thick young man in that -- well, in all the ways a young man might be thick.

He was a bit a profligate too, and liked to squander money on horse racing, drugs, and other low diversions. But he was accounted competent enough on a boat, could follow a captain's orders, and was rather personable besides. It was thought that he'd keep young Henry in line while at sea, and perhaps help him develop a bit more skill with the ladies at port.

Anyway, things went well enough at first, until they ran into a storm. It wasn't catastrophic -- they managed to find a sheltered port and anchor safely. But the pumping of his heart and the rolling of the waves must have gotten Henry's normally tepid blood unaccountably hot, and he ended up getting handsy with the captain, below deck, as it were.

She had not liked that one bit, and naturally, Henry had gone back to his cabin to sulk. I don't know how far things went between the two, but from what I can gather, it hadn't been so great a transgression that a nice bonus couldn't have seen it forgiven, particularly since the two were the only witnesses.

Apparently the boys hadn't seen things that way, however. They'd concocted some bizarre scheme where William was going to ply her with overpriced liquor and drugs, seduce her, and then somehow bring Henry in, no doubt turning the rather stolid and reserved captain into an insatiable nymphomaniac in the process.

I don't know the details, but it was obviously a terrible plan -- the sort that hinges on a young man's belief that dick is such a rare and precious resource that any woman will fall down before it, once its advantages are properly explained and demonstrated to her.

I never learned much of the rest, because no one involved wanted to talk about it. But the night ended with her tied up below deck, where the poor girl was subject to indignities quite beneath her command.

After that, it really had been an odyssey. Thank God someone talked the boys out of their plan to sail down to Somalia and sell the captain to pirates, or things would have gotten even worse.

From what I've gathered, she'd been planning to meet her girlfriend in Athens or thereabout, and although most of her family was dead, she'd also had a close relative -- a sister or step-sister, I think -- who she'd planned to reunite with in Venice in the early fall. I don't know how his family snipped all the loose threads, but it must have cost a good deal of Henry's inheritance.