Dominion: A Tale of Wealth & Power

“Malcolm; Gussie,” she addressed Mr. Erickson and the Prince respectively as she stepped into her black fur trimmed, high heeled slippers. “Please sit in on this meeting as well, if you don’t mind.”

Without another word, she headed for her office, pulling on her robe as she walked.


Malcolm admires Josephine's cute behind as she moves away. He did think how he would follow that anywhere. "It would be my pleasure." As she put on the robe, he decided mentally back to work time.

He carried his drink and followed along, looking around her office, deciding the best place to stand. Backing her, a third party position. At the moment he didn't know who was coming, so he positioned himself behind Miss Josephine on her left side, since the Prince had taken her other side more in the shadow.

He knew both men didn't need to be hiding the shadows, at least one should be present and Malcolm had no problem being that one.

Constantine takes a second to work out a couple of Ian's references.

"Ah!" he exclaims, "You Madame Czartoryski's gardener." "You sadovnik."

"Dees eez good job for old soldier. You make fings grao and garden eez peaceful place, da?"

While hitchhiking is common around the world. Hitchhiking is a western colloquialism. In Eastern Europe, to hitchhike is to autostop. 'Hitch a ride' gets past Constantine's limited English.

"I veell geeve you ride, please."

He squeezes himself back into the fullsize sedan and when Ian is gets in, Constantine drives up the winding, wooded drive. As he does, he thinks back on his military career including three years in Chechnya. Three years in hell.

"And I not corporal any more, please, I ceeveelian now."

"Well?" Alysa asks after changing into her maid's uniform. She slowly turns, giving Michele a view of every angle. "What do you think?"

"I think you look good enough to eat!" Michele admits. "But now I'm curious about this game Prince Carl mentioned. And, he's right. We should at least check in with Josephine at some point. First, though, let's check out the game."

She takes Alysa by the hand and leads her out of the upstairs master bedroom, turning right down the hall, and right again when they reach the central staircase.


Before they reach the mezzanine overlooking the grand parlor below, Michele turns to Alysa and presses a finger to her lips. Then she releases her hand. Getting down on her hands and knees, Michele crawls out onto the mezzanine to where she can peek down through the railing.

Surprised to see nothing that looks like a game, she first notices Karen at the piano playing what sounds like a slow version of the Minute Waltz with Mr. Turner standing nearby. Then Josephine steps into view naked, moves to where her sheer black robe with its black fur trim lies on the floor, and picks it up. She then steps into her black fur trimmed, high heeled slippers and turns to two people Michele cannot see. "Malcolm, Gussie, please sit in on this meeting as well, if you don’t mind."

Moving off to Michele's left, Josephine heads toward her office, pulling on her robe as she walks, and again disappearing from view, with Prince Carl and Mr. Erickson following behind her.

"Ohooiet'!" Constantine exclaims, "Dat eez garanata... bomb damage!" "I deed not know Madame Czartoryski had enemies."

This would explain why an English commando is passing himself off as a gardener. She uses mercenaries to guard her. Constantine saw no tell tale bulges of a sidearm under Ian's jacket. He would have noticed that. A business rival, perhaps. Googling Madame Czartoryski did not reveal her to be a political figure or even a public one. Business rival, jealous lover or maybe crazed stalker?

Constantine hopes she is not a criminal underworld boss. In Russia no woman could become 'vory v zakone', a thieves-in-law. But this is America, maybe here a woman can be more than a sexual object in the world of organized crime. The Russian Mafia connections of his old boss was why he had to leave Russia. It was maybe not a good idea to have an affair with a Russian billionaire's daughter when he was supposed to be her bodyguard.

He shuts the car off and climbs out. His eyes scan the treeline and buildings for signs of guards. It is with a good bit of surprise he does not see any. Maybe at night she uses dogs to guard the estate. Again he must remind himself he is not in Russia anymore. Kidnapping for ransom is a lucrative source of income for organized crime in Russia. In Russia after being attacked, a rich person would have shotgun armed guards everywhere. Maybe even Kalashnikov armed if the person had the right connections.

To ease his mind, he asks Ian, "Madame Czartoryski eez not criminal?"

"Oh, excuse me," Mary said upon entering the ground floor Master Suite and discovering the chauffeur, Dawn, and chef, Chrissy, snuggling near the foot of the huge canopied bed. "I just need my things."

Collecting her uniform and accouterments, Mary left immediately and slipped around the corner to the small bathroom between the elevator and the garage. There, she took the opportunity to use the toilet and freshen up afterward.

She got dressed as if for work, wearing all of her gear except for her sidearm, which remained secure where she left it the night before. After a final check in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she emerged and went directly to the Grand Parlor. She frowned at first, then on reconsideration smiled, finding that only Karen and Maurice remained in the huge room.

“Good enough to eat huh!” I shyly smile to the lovely lady before nodding my head in agreement on the rest of her words, although I seem to get even more sick to my stomach upon realizing just how soon I will be in front of that lady once more, however it will be slightly different for Michele will be there and I can always look upon her for that visual strength if I need it, just a look from her would bring a smile to me. My mind moves on to the game when Michele mentions it, the idea of checking it out before joining eases the anxiety that I’m feeling about, but then again I fear that maybe Josephine will order us to participate, that thought doesn’t sit well with me.

I don’t have much time to dwell on the issue for Michele grabs my hand and leads me out the door and down the corridor once again. It’s not long after leaving the door she turns towards me and presses her Shhh finger to her lips. She releases my hand and moves down to her hands and knees and crawls out on the mezzanine. I take a few moments to watch her crawl around, my brow arches as I find myself enjoying the show.

I soft sigh before moving down on my hands and knees and follow her path, coming to rest beside her I watch what is going on. When I see Josephine leave I turn toward Michele. “Doesn’t seem like much of a game.” I whisper to her before looking back down to the parlor for a few more moments.

I slowly look back over to Michele. “Now what?” I ask quizzically

"You saw how I had Malcolm tied up," Dawn whispered seductively. "How would you like to take his place?"

Before Chrissy could answer, Mary came into the bedroom.

"Oh, excuse me," Mary said as she began collecting her uniform and accouterments. "I just need my things."

Chrissy waited until after Mary left before answering Dawn. "And if I let you tie me up, what will happen next?"

Tax evasion, bomb damage to opulent mansion, ex-commandos acting as gardeners. If Constantine discovers more ex-military or ex-intelligence officers in Madame Czartoryski's retinue or corrupt local police lolling about, he will feel right at home. Even the Wisconsin flora and fauna are not that much different to Russia. His previous employer in Russia, chose his household servants for looks and willingness to engage in sexual activity. American gossip magazines always have stories of rich employers having children by servants. Even high ranking politicians like the Austrian governor of California.

Sometimes the most moral are those who are openly immoral. Both Constantine's grandfather and father were hardcore communists. Decadent capitalist is a term which easily comes to Constantine's mind, Russian billionaire oligarch or decadent American multi-millionaire.

"Madame Czartoryski has beauteeful... dvorets," Constantine says, "Hao do Amereecans say... palace."

A habit he has had to engage in since he was sixteen is to duck his head as he steps through doorways. In this case with the mansion's standard twelve foot ceilings and large doors, ducking his head is not necessary but he does so without thinking. It bodes well for him that he will be able to lift weights indoors during bad weather. And be able to avoid low hanging light fixtures.

"Now what?" Alysa whispers.

"It sounds like Josephine is holding some sort of business meeting," Michele replies as she stands up. She offers her hand to Alysa, who still kneels by the mezzanine railing. "She'd expect us to be on hand to serve drinks and such. It will be a good opportunity for you to get used to your new job without much chance for uncomfortable sexual situations."

Formalities



After settling into the chair behind her desk, Josephine found herself effectively flanked by Carl and Malcolm. She smiled at their chivalry. The bomb clearly had Carl quite concerned for her safety, and she knew Malcolm already took his duties seriously.

She really did not feel vulnerable, but wondered if she should. Her fenced and gated estate certainly revealed much about her wealth to anyone who happened to notice it. That would make it, and her, a target.

She hated the idea of turning Dominion Manor into an aggressively defended demesne. Indeed, if only her own security remained at stake, she would not do it. She knew she must consider, however, the safety of Michele, Chrissy, and the rest of her staff and guests. She owed it to them to do anything reasonably necessary to ensure their safety.

Resigned to that reality, she pouted slightly and leaned back, waiting for the job-seeker Ian had gone to fetch. She realized her sheer black robe, with the outlines of her breasts and shadows of her nipples clearly visible through its gossamer fabric, hardy seemed appropriate for an employment interview. On the other hand, this potential applicant had come uninvited. If Ian had not seen some potential in him, they’d have sent him away. Therefore, she had no inclination to go to the trouble of dressing for him.

homage

The Goddess was hiring help! Perhaps Professor edgeways could sit at her feet again. He remembered when he met Her. She had fought for him as no one had. It was not pity, merely a desire to maximize his own potential. She took the time to summon the likes of him. He looked up at her like a faithful kitten.

First Impressions



The job-seeker Ian ushered into Josephine’s office had to duck only slightly to keep the top of his head from scraping the jamb of the seven foot tall doors standard in the mansion. Josephine had seen men as tall as him before; she had season tickets court-side for the Milwaukee Bucks. She had seen men as broad as him before; she recently met Clay Matthews at a Packers’ charity event. She had never seen both traits in the same man before.

“‘Singular qualifications,’ indeed,” she winked at Ian as she stood. The black fur trim of her sheer robe hid her most intimate anatomy, but her breasts became fully visible through the black gossamer fabric as she extended her hand to the newcomer, fingers relaxed, palm down. “Welcome to Dominion Manor. What might I do for you today?”

My eyes follow Michele as she stands up from the Mezzanine, her words that it appeared to her that Josephine was going to a business meeting got my mind wondering if she was going to rape that person as well, but I hold that though to myself as I look at the small, sweet looking hand of Michele as she offers it to me.

Taking her hand and standing next to her, the rest of her conversation brought a small nod to my head and a soft whispered “Okay.” I never really served anything to anyone before so this otta be a good laugh. I just hope I don’t get the cursed two left feet syndrome and really make things worse for me.

I give Michele’s hand a gentle squeeze before adding to my okay, “I’m ready whenever you are. Just lead the way and I will follow.” My mind is wondering what this day is going to be like but as long as I’m near Michele I believe it will be a good day.

There is old saying in Mother Russia. After fall of Czarist and imposition of Soviet rule, after countless changes to communist regime, the uncertainty of Gorbachev and Yeltsin, the corrupt authoritarian rule of Putin and now two continents away, Constantine encounters decadent elite surrounded by mercenaries with boy toy standing in shadows. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

"Eet eez great honour to meet you, Madame Czartoryski," he says as he puts his heels together, takes her hand lightly and ever so slightly bows over it, "I apologize for my... interrupting." "My name eez Constantine Garov."

"I botyguard and personal trainer."

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It is with a professional eye that he drinks in the sight of Josephine's body. Very nice, he thinks, lovely heavy breasts. But not twenty years old anymore. Nature has been very kind to her. But decadent lifestyle and ease has made her soft. Another ten years or less and the skin under her chin and arms will begin to sag. It would be a shame to see such a beautiful woman age ungracefully. He knows how much time and money celebrities expend in looking youthful. And despises the work of plastic surgeons when hard work and diligence would garner the same results.

"I vould be pleasured to vork for you," he continues, "I came to Ameereeca to vork for gymnasium in Cheecago." "Boot fings deed not vork out."

"Too much steroids and not enough hard vork and dedeecation."

The owner of the gym made more money selling steroids and hormones than from memberships. He had assumed that Constantine being Russian would have no problem with drugs. A stereotype Constantine had quickly dissuaded him of, by breaking the arm of the owner's inhouse drug dealer when he found him trying to get some teenage youths to try steroids. He had not intended to break the man's arm. It was actually the wall of the back alley which had broken it, when Constantine had bodily picked him up and thrown him out the back door.

"I vas boxeeng champion een Russian army and vorked for Ural Gornyy Korporatsiya as botyguard for company prezeedent's fameely."

He quit boxing after almost killing an opponet in the ring. And was forced to leave Russia after having a sordid affair with the daughter of the Ural Mining Corporation's president. A kidnapping attempt prompted the affair and her father's connections to organized crime forced him to flee.

"I need job and I feenk you need botyguard. And maybe personal trainer. Yes?"

Malcolm appraised the large man as he entered. His eyes perked as he mentioned being a bodyguard. "And what makes you think you can be a bodyguard?" The question is quite the valid one. There are two types of people, bodyguards who understand that being a bodyguard is more than just standing in front of someone and those who think it is. Asking the question was also the sure fire away to separate the two.

Hired muscle was never a bad thing, one just had to know how to use it best.

It is good Madame Cartoryski prefers foreign mercenaries as her bodyguards, Constantine thinks. Foreign mercenaries are more apt to be loyal to their employer then to the country they are operating in. Apparently she prefers English soldiers of fortune. He turns his attention to the man speaking, who would appear to be her head of security. The question while necessary was delivered in an impertinent manner. Probably contrived to test Constantine's psychological temperment. So he resists the urge to pick the man up by the head and shake him.

"I served five years een Russian Army, eencludeeng dree years een Chechyna," he replies, "You know Chechyna, da?" "Counter-terroreesm patrols and konvoy protection."

"I vas selected for traineeng for Spetsnaz but parachute too small and I injured knee."

One hundred and fifty pounds of extra weight plus required kit made for a higher rate of descent beyond safe limits resulting in a badly torn up knee. And so ended his chance at being in one of the most feared special forces units in the world. And his military career.

"For five years I vork for Ural Gornyy Korporatsiya as security guard," he continues, "Den I vas personal botyguard for korporatsiya preseedent's fameely members." "More den one time I saved preseedent's daughter from drunken men, old boy friends and keednappeeng by Bratva."

"Bratva eez vat you vesterners call Russian Mafia."

Carrying the girl out of sex clubs drunk, high and naked sometimes seemed a routine task.

"Being botyguard means planneeng and assigneeng responseebeeleeties, searcheeng veheecles, transferreeng client to veheecle, travelleeng, arrival at desteenation and return to seecure location," Constantine rattles of the list like it was a standard operating procedure, "Danger eez generally feft, assault, keednappeeng, assasseenation, harassment, loss of confeedential eenformation, trets, or uder creemeenal offences." "At all times I must show deescreetion and maintain confeedentiality."

"And I faster dan I look and could break your neck before you or eeder of dese oder men could react."

He returns his attention to Josephine, whose dressing gown accentuates more than it conceals.

First Priorities



With each decade, and amazingly starting almost exactly it seemed on the decade, Josephine found it harder to maintain the vigor and figure she wanted. She now had to spend over an hour each day exercising, and pay at least moderate attention to her diet, especially when it came to the more caloric food groups. With only a few years until her fiftieth birthday, she wondered how much more difficult keeping in shape might become.

“Yes, yes,” she finally interrupted Constantine’s examples of his obvious physical prowess. “Your size alone accomplishes 99 per cent of what is needed in a bodyguard. Tell me instead of your qualifications and experience as a personal trainer.”

"I’m ready whenever you are," Alysa says as she gives Michele a quick hug, then steps away. "Just lead the way and I will follow."

Still hand in hand, they descend the circular staircase to the foyer. As they do, Michele sees Ian escorting a huge man in a dark suit through the main doors to Josephine's office.

"There are some side doors around to the right," she whispers to Alysa and leads her down the back hall to them. Opening them slowly, she pulls Alysa silently in with her. Josephine sits at her desk with Carl and Malcolm on either side of her. Ian and the giant face Josephine. As they enter Josephine says to the newcomer: "Yes, yes.... Your size alone accomplishes 99 per cent of what is needed in a bodyguard. Tell me instead of your qualifications and experience as a personal trainer."

Michele finds the idea of having such a large man in that position intimidating, but also a bit exciting.

"Net, Madame Czartoryski," Constantine replies attempting to maintain eye contact, "As your secureety chief vill tell you, size eez not everyting." "Eet eez attention to detail and awareness dat makes goot botyguard. "

"I goot shield but bad... getaway driver een eemergency."

Again with a practiced eye, he looks Josephine up and down.

"You exercise lightly one hour every day and try to vatch vat you eat," he says, "Deez eez not goot enough." "You must vorkout hard one hour every day and run or ride biceecle one hour every day, also hard."

"I fink you vould be goot tennis player. You have tennis court, da?"

Constantine has no professional accreditations in fitness training beyond being PT instructor in the army. As a youth concrete blocks and forty liter buckets of water sufficed for weight training equipment. Hard work and dedication got him to look like he does now. If he did not work out strenuously he would be a huge fat guy.

"Eet eez hard vork and dedeecation not profeessional qualeefeecations dat vill make you hard boty," Constantine declares, "As your personal trainer I vill make you vork and vork and vork." "I vill talk to your cook about your diet."

"You vill have to eat alot more dan you do."

No red meat, no deep fried foods and lots of carbohydrates give Constantine the energy required to build the massive muscles he has.

"Forgive me, Madame," he says, "You are beautiful voman." "But you are not... hao you say 'spring cheecken'."

"I must be hard on you, like ven I vas army eenstructor, but I vill give you boty of tventy five year old, make you strong and able to run, dance or vatever you like to do all day and most of night."

Malcolm nodded as Josephine went with the information she wanted. We all had our priorities. He was impressed the man knew his limitations. For the moment he had nothing new to add, but was curious to hear about the training aspect.

First Things Last



"Forgive me, Madame; you are beautiful voman,” Constantine said in a matter of fact manner. ‘“But you are not... hao you say ‘spring chicken.’”

Josephine frowned slightly, but appreciated the man’s candor.

He continued to explain his philosophy as a personal trainer. “I must be hard on you, like ven I vas army eenstructor, but I vill give you boty of tventy five year old, make you strong and able to run, dance or vatever you like to do all day and most of night.”

“Or how about all night and part of the day?” Josephine chuckled, looking up at Michele, who had entered with the new maid, and giving a wink. Then realizing Constantine might think she had asked the question seriously, quickly continued. “One last question: How did you hear about me and come to believe that I might need a bodyguard and personal trainer?”