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"Of course, you can," answered the Duke of Winterfield, who had heard their conversation from his luxury box. "I'll escort you there, myself."

  Chapter 32

  The Duke led the way as Esmerelda leaned on Boss for support. The ordeal had taken more out of her than she thought it would. As they advanced through an elaborate maze of corridors and escalators, the Duke praised their efforts.

  "Marvelous, spectacular, amazing, there are not enough words in the English language to express how well the both of you preformed today.

  I had high hopes for you, but you went and exceeded my high expectations. Bravo."

  "Thank, you, Duke Winterfield," said Boss.

  "No, my boy," the Duke said. "Thank your wife for making this a day, which will be remembered in NWO infamy.

  Did you see the look on their faces when Esmerelda started beating the news whore? It was priceless.

  One thing is for sure; the days of my pod cruising the French Riviera without a care in the world are over. And it's about time. I am willing to bet that every one of them is going to get serious about self-improvement.

  I cannot wait to see what they search for on the Internet. I would imagine some will start studying foreign languages or business strategies, maybe even metallurgy. And you two sons of bitches are the cause of it.

  You didn't just throw down the gauntlet; you took an iron glove and bitch slapped them with it. Damn, that was good!"

  Esmerelda mumbled something, but it was in her sleep. She had fallen asleep while standing up, leaning on Boss.

  "I don't think I've ever seen her this tired," said Boss as he picked his wife up in his arms. Her head slumped against his chest and one of her shoes fell off. Too bad, Boss wasn't about to try and pick it up while holding her.

  "Leave it," ordered the Duke. "I'll have a truck load of handcrafted, Italian shoes delivered to your room.

  ... I can sympathize with her. The first time you deliver such an ass whipping, is the hardest. It drains you physically and emotionally. But with time, you get more relaxed and begin to really enjoy the whole process."

  Boss nodded. He didn't trust his breath to hold out in a long conversation, while carrying his wife. His physical fitness was much improved to where it was only a few months prior, but it had been a long day. With every step, his wife seemed to get heavier.

  Try as he may, Boss couldn't keep up with the Duke's giant strides, while he carried his limp wife. His breath became ragged, and he had to stop for a minute. The Duke noticed his walking companion had fallen behind and went back for him.

  "Give her to me," ordered the Duke as he took Esmerelda from Boss's arms. The Duke started walking, keeping up his previous pace, and it was all that Boss could do to keep up with him.

  The Duke of Winterfield was an old man compared to Boss, yet he had the strength and speed of a much younger, and more muscular man. He didn't even seem to notice the extra hundred and ten pounds that he was carrying.

  They entered a glass elevator, which gave them a panoramic view across the deep chasm that bisected the titanic, underground sphere. The elevator dropped twenty stories without the Duke saying anything or pressing any buttons. It knew where they were headed.

  When the elevator doors opened, the three of them started down a brilliant, white marble corridor. After walking almost a hundred meters, the walls turned transparent. Swimming behind the see-through walls were some of the most rare fish on Earth.

  Boss almost tripped over his own feet when a sealacamp swam up next to him. Further down the hallway were deep-sea creatures feeding off of a volcanic vent. The technology and logistics of it all were staggering. Even with Pluto Moon Technologies in his corner, Boss couldn't have built anything that would come close to what he was seeing.

  Noticing the look of awe on Boss's face, the Duke said, "Impressed, are we?"

  "Absolutely, your Dukedom. I would say I'm looking at the eighth wonder of the world."

  "Actually, I would put it as the sixteenth wonder of the New World Order. But then again, I am basing it on sights you've never seen or heard of.

  ... Your underwater bedroom is the thing, which carried the day and squeaked you over the threshold, winning you a spot my pod. Before you built that, I wasn't sure about you.

  Sure, you were a vicious, business bastard, but so were a thousand others.

  You had to wheel and deal and sacrificed to ensure that your progeny were geniuses. That was impressive. But, then again, I've got hundreds of geniuses working night and day in my R&D program. Brains alone wouldn't have gotten you in.

  No, it was your bedroom, hollowed out of the oversized fish tank in your tacky mansion that sealed the deal. Your thoughts and actions were beginning to mirror ours in the NWO without you even knowing it."

  Boss decided to give credit where credit was due and said, "It was actually Esmerelda, who put in the first oversized aquarium, but I was the one who ran with the idea."

  "Whatever the case, you are definitely an asset to my pod," said the Duke. Then he stopped in front of a one-story block of solid, black marble in the midst of his manmade, underground sea. A rectangular section of the marble parted and recessed into its sides, revealing an underwater bedroom. "This will be your room."

  The Duke carried Esmerelda to a large bed in the center of the room and placed her on it gently. She didn't wake, and he stood over her, eyeing her body in a detached, doctor sort of way.

  "Her appearance is improving," stated the Duke. "Esmerelda's face is starting to become more symmetrical and some of its harsh features are softening. I also see that her toes are starting to align. Have you noticed any differences in her breasts?"

  For a brief moment, Boss wondered how the Duke knew about his wife's breasts, but then let it pass and said, "Now that you mention it, her breasts do seem fuller and firmer than they used to be."

  "What about her inverted nipple?"

  "It's still inverted, but not as much, if that makes any sense?"

  "Yes," said the Duke as he pulled a blanket up to Esmerelda's chin and tucked her in. "There is a limit to genetic corrections. But if you stay the course with your diets, one day you will find yourself married to, at the very least, an average looking woman.

  She'll never be modeling pretty. But considering where she started from, average looking will be more than satisfactory."

  "Thank, you, Duke Winterfield," said Boss as he looked around at the room's layout and found it better than the bedroom in his own mansion. This one had a subtle grace about it, while his bordered on being garish.

  This room was basically the space between several, giant fish tanks, but it was impossible to tell where one tank stopped and the next began. Strategically placed columns and granite moldings made it feel more like a regular room that featured aquariums rather than vice versa.

  The Duke sat on a tasteful, antique French chair near the door and motioned for Boss to sit as well.

  "Not all of our meetings will be as eventful as today's, Milton."

  "That's good to know, sir."

  "And we don't require as much from our women as the outside world does. Modern society pushes women to look and act like men, while forcing men to act more and more feminine. We like for our women to act like ladies and for our men to exude manliness.

  Normally, Esmerelda would be free to join the other women members and wives of members in the tearoom. Where they have little tea parties and... play bridge and do whatever else, females enjoy doing, while we men handle all the unpleasantness.

  I used your wife to make a point, and did she ever. She put the fear of Lucifer back into the pod.... I bet some of them literally shit their pants."

  Both Boss and the Duke sat there for a half hour, saying nothing. Sometimes a shark or a stingray would swim above Boss, and he would watch. It was relaxing.

  Finally, the Duke of Winterfield stood up and said, "Goodnight."

  Boss stood up and replied, "Goodnight, your Dukedom."

  The door sealed itself beh
ind the exiting Duke, and Boss fell back down into his chair, exhausted. He wanted to find the bathroom and take a shower, but instead he fell asleep, where he sat.

  Bustling maids and dressmakers awakened Boss. They were fitting Esmerelda for an evening gown in the Victorian style of the mid eighteen hundreds. She was quite a sight to see, in her petticoat as one of the maids fussed over the ruffling. Women of that era must have been touched in the head, or so it appeared.

  One of the dressmakers alerted Esmerelda that her husband was awake. Esmerelda turned to him and said, "Good morning, sleepy-head."

  "Good morning," said Boss, unable to take his eyes off the scene before him.

  "Guess what I'm going to do today," she asked.

  "Are you time traveling back to the eighteen hundreds?"

  "Now, don't be silly. I've been invited to a tea party being thrown by the Duchess of Winterfield. Everyone is dressing in Victorian attire.

  They're making a custom gown for me. Isn't it lovely?" asked Esmerelda who gestured toward a red dress hanging upon a tailors' mannequin.

  "If you say so, dear," answered Boss. "Where exactly is the restroom in here?"

  "I will show you, Mr. Boss," chimed in a thin, brunette maid, who was dressed in a floor length, maid's outfit. She quickly walked over to Boss and took him by the arm. "We have fresh clothes for you to wear after I bathe you."

  "No, that's not going to happen," said Boss. He looked in Esmerelda's direction, and she laughed.

  "It's not sexual, dear," Esmerelda giggled. "They are quite professional. I'm thinking of getting a couple of bathroom maids for back home."

  "If you would be more comfortable with a man servant, I can fetch one for you, sir," proposed the bathing maid. "A few of the older gentlemen members prefer stronger hands to scrub their backs."

  "When in Rome, dear," Esmerelda said, turning her attention back to the women helping her dress.

  "... Whatever," said Boss as the bathing maid led him to the bathroom. Just like his bathroom at home, this one was hidden in plain sight. It was hidden within the remnants of a sunken, pirate ship. Although it looked like part of the aquarium's wall, a part of the wooden hull parted when pressed on, revealing a large, luxurious bathroom.

  They walked over to a sunken tub, the size of a small swimming pool. It was already filled with warm water and had bubbles floating across the surface. The bathing girl started to undress Boss.

  "What's your name?" asked Boss, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

  "Jenny," answered the woman, removing his shirt.

  "So, this is really going to happen?"

  "What do you mean, sir?" asked Jenny as she got down on her knees to take off Boss's shoes and socks.

  "Never mind.... How do you know if the water is the right temperature?"

  "After I fill the tub, heaters come on to keep it at a constant 95 degrees Fahrenheit," Jenny answered, as she started taking Boss's pants down.

  Once his pants were off, Jenny took them to a nearby chair and threw them on top of the rest of his discarded clothing. She turned back to Boss who, against his best effort to stop it, was beginning to blush.

  "My, my," Jenny said as she stared at Boss's boxer shorts, which looked like they were being stretched by a mini tent pole. "Somebody has some morning wood."

  "Uh, should you be saying that?" asked Boss.

  "Probably not," Jenny responded as she got nose to nose with him. Then she bent down fast to her knees, taking Boss's underwear with her.

  "Bouncy, bouncy," she said, pointing at his erect penis.

  "What if my wife comes in?" asked Boss.

  "The lights will flicker if she is on her way. It's my job to make sure you do not get in any trouble with your wife. I am a professional."

  "Yeah, I can believe that," said Boss.

  Jenny led him into the tub. She didn't undress herself. Her maid's outfit was soaked through, revealing her tight body.

  "I can slide my skirt to the side if you want to fuck," Jenny proposed. "Misses Esmerelda will never know."

  "Maybe, but I would."

  "Mr. Boss, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You are the boss. I just wanted to put it out there.

  If you want to do anything to me, then do it. If you want me to do something to you, then ask. And if you just want a relaxing bath, I can do that, too."

  "I'll stick with the bath... for now."

  Boss had never been bathed by a professional bather in his life. His mother didn't count, and besides, he was too young to remember that anyway.

  After giving Boss the closest shave of his life with a straight blade razor, Jenny took a large, natural sea sponge and began scrubbing Boss's arms and chest. It felt like Jenny had found her life's calling because she was spectacular at her job. As the sponge went back and forth over his skin, he could feel the dead, skin cells falling off his body.

  When she started scrubbing his back, all thoughts of the awkwardness of the situation fled Boss's mind. Only during good sex had Boss ever felt so at peace with himself and the whole world. He didn't even realize when Jenny started cleaning his most private of areas, so relaxed was he.

  Once they were out of the bathtub, Jenny began drying him off with a heated, fluffy towel. And then Boss began to come back to his senses.

  "That was amazing!" Boss enthused as Jenny continued her job with the towel. "Who needs sex? That was WAY better than most sex, I've ever had."

  "Are you sure?" asked Jenny as she began drying his groin area. "It seems a shame to let this go to waste."

  "Oh, I'm sure," answered Boss, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment to its fullest. "Are you the best bather in the world, or can your skills be taught to others?"

  While working on drying his legs, Jenny said, "I'm tempted to say I'm the very best and get you to take me with you. But in all honesty, it's easy to do."

  She helped him put on a brand new suit, which fit him as only a custom-made suit could. He stopped her from tying a blue, silk necktie around his neck. So, she slipped it into his front pocket, lingering there for a second too long.

  "Mr. Boss, you sure do look handsome."

  "Thank, you, Jenny," said Boss as he looked her over. She had quickly dried herself off and put on a bathrobe before helping Boss out of the tub. He glanced around the bathroom but didn't see any dry clothing for her. "Do you have some dry clothes to put on or should I have some brought to you?"

  "Please, don't worry about me," Jenny said. "I'm just doing my job. I'll clean up in here and have your clothes laundered. Don't worry, I promise I won't track water all over the carpet outside."

  "I wasn't implying," Boss began saying before being cut off by Jenny, who was ushering him out of the bathroom.

  "I know; I know," said Jenny when they reached the door. "I'll see you tonight."

  "Really? Again?" asked Boss.

  "Well, I certainly would assume you will need another bath this evening, won't you?" asked Jenny as she opened the hidden doorway.

  Boss felt like he had never been so clean, yet felt so dirty in all his life.

  Greeting him as he entered the bedroom was Esmerelda in her new dress with matching red lace gloves, purse, and sun umbrella. "What do you think?"

  "You look marvelous, dear," answered Boss. His answer would have been the same if she were wearing an old flour sack.

  "Was I right about the bathing attendant?" Esmerelda asked, while leading him toward the gaggle of servants who were readying to leave.

  "Right as rain, my dear. We must get one or two of those for our home. How did we ever live without them?"

  Esmerelda made her way into the middle of the servants and hugged her man, with one arm on his back and the other squarely on his butt. "I want you to keep your penis out of the help. Can you do that for me?"

  "Where did that come from?" asked an incredulous Boss.

  "Don't take it that way, honey. I trust you, but I don't trust all these half-naked whores running around. Hone
stly, it's like we're in the middle of Sodom and Gomorrah."

  Boss knew that it was only a matter of time before Esmerelda threw one of her little insecurity fits. He was halfway amazed that she'd lasted for as long as she had on this trip. And the best way to reassure her fragile ego was with an inappropriate, public display of affection.

  He went in hard and fast, grabbing one of Esmerelda's breasts in one hand and trying to grab some of her ass with the other. Her poofy, layered dress stopped his hand from feeling her tailbone, but in Esmerelda's defense, she was starting to develop a little bit of ass. Boss's tongue found its way deep enough down her throat to make her gag.

  Pushing Boss off of her, Esmerelda coughed, "Get out of here, you're going to be late. And you're messing up my dress, you sexy beast."

  On his way out the door, Boss called back to her, mainly for the servants to hear, "You'd better be ready for sex when I get back, woman!"

  Chapter 33

  The frail looking, manservant waiting outside of Boss's door, shook like a frightened Chihuahua. Surely, only a madman would yell something so vulgar.

  "I understand that I'm late," Boss said. "I don't like being late."

  "You're not really late, sir," said the manservant as he hurried down the hallway in front of Boss. "It's an informal setting. People come and go as they please."

  Boss didn't respond to the frail man, but wondered if the guy was capable of going any faster. Then they were at the lecture hall.

  "This is the rear entrance, sir. I doubt anyone will even notice when you enter."

  The manservant opened the door, and Boss walked through. Every eye in the packed classroom turned to look up him. Boss turned and gave his guide the stink-eye as the door closed between them. The frail servant started shaking again.

  Boss settled down in his chair in the rear of the lecture hall, which had stadium seating. A very plain looking man in his mid forties was lecturing on the topic of eugenics. Although Boss already had more in-depth knowledge on the subject than what he was hearing, it was still interesting.

  In the outside world, eugenics was a taboo subject. All people were the same. To suggest otherwise was somehow xenophobic. Sure, there were strains of mankind who were faster, or smarter, or more pleasing to the eye than others, but that was one hundred percent due to environmental factors. Genetics played no role whatsoever.