21-04-2019, 01:13 PM
He had a video camera slung around his neck, and pointed to a spot on the ground. A half-nod in his direction, and she began her walk toward the door, taking a deep drag of her cigarette. A bouncer held the door open.
"There's... uh, no smoking, your highness." The bouncer said.
Contessa Helena de San Finzione stopped in front of him and opened the tiny decorative purse she carried.
"Fifty-dollar fine in Washington State, right?" She asked. He nodded. Helena took out a hundred-dollar bill and put it in his hand. "Here's a C-note. I might stick around for a second one." She and her cigarette continued their journey into the dimness of the club.
She looked toward the bar for something, found it, and made her way toward it. People inside turned and stared as she stepped through their midst, some making faces at the cigarette; but, knowing who she was, and that they were in the presence of genuine royalty, were too awestruck to say anything. It would have been weird to not see her with one, and jerks would have come up and asked where it was.
La Contessa approached her target, a curvy brunette tending bar. She made her way purposefully toward the woman and leaned across the bar.
"Shot of Jack, straight." She told the bartender. The woman brought Helena a shot glass of brown liquid, which she immediately tilted her head back and consumed. Helena slammed the shot glass down on the counter.
"How much?" She asked the bartender.
"Uh... on the house for you, Contessa." She replied.
"Nonsense," Helena said, opening the little purse again, and seeing that there was nothing else in it, and it had barely contained enough space for the folded-up hundred she'd had in there a moment ago. "You definitely deserve something." She seemed to think for a moment, then made an exaggerated gesture of getting an idea. "Ah!"
Contessa Helena de San Finzione bent down and slid the silk panties she wore down her legs, being careful of the large bruise on her left leg, rendered invisible by her black stockings.
"These," She said, twirling her underwear around her finger for all to see. "Are easily two-hundred Euros in any high-end lingerie shop in Paris." With a smoldering look, she gave them a kiss and set them in the bartender's hand.
"Now they're priceless." Helena said, as the woman took them. She leaned in closer, allowing the bartender to smell the drink on her breath. "Hotel de Società Finzione, La Contessa Suite. Any time from Thursday to Saturday. Let me know how you like them."
With a small kiss, she turned and walked out of the club. By the time she'd gotten to the door, the swagger she walked with acquired a small stumble to it, as though she'd walked into the club 90% drunk already and that last shot had done the job. With a little wobble, she made it to the limousine door, and an Ultimado came and opened it for her.
Contessa Helena de San Finzione stepped into the limo. As she did, she stopped, and seemed to be thinking of something. She looked over to where the man with the video camera was kneeling in the right spot. Then, as she lifted her right leg off the ground, she had a second thought, stopped, and spun around, planting her foot on the ground and causing her skirt to rise up several inches.
"There's... uh, no smoking, your highness." The bouncer said.
Contessa Helena de San Finzione stopped in front of him and opened the tiny decorative purse she carried.
"Fifty-dollar fine in Washington State, right?" She asked. He nodded. Helena took out a hundred-dollar bill and put it in his hand. "Here's a C-note. I might stick around for a second one." She and her cigarette continued their journey into the dimness of the club.
She looked toward the bar for something, found it, and made her way toward it. People inside turned and stared as she stepped through their midst, some making faces at the cigarette; but, knowing who she was, and that they were in the presence of genuine royalty, were too awestruck to say anything. It would have been weird to not see her with one, and jerks would have come up and asked where it was.
La Contessa approached her target, a curvy brunette tending bar. She made her way purposefully toward the woman and leaned across the bar.
"Shot of Jack, straight." She told the bartender. The woman brought Helena a shot glass of brown liquid, which she immediately tilted her head back and consumed. Helena slammed the shot glass down on the counter.
"How much?" She asked the bartender.
"Uh... on the house for you, Contessa." She replied.
"Nonsense," Helena said, opening the little purse again, and seeing that there was nothing else in it, and it had barely contained enough space for the folded-up hundred she'd had in there a moment ago. "You definitely deserve something." She seemed to think for a moment, then made an exaggerated gesture of getting an idea. "Ah!"
Contessa Helena de San Finzione bent down and slid the silk panties she wore down her legs, being careful of the large bruise on her left leg, rendered invisible by her black stockings.
"These," She said, twirling her underwear around her finger for all to see. "Are easily two-hundred Euros in any high-end lingerie shop in Paris." With a smoldering look, she gave them a kiss and set them in the bartender's hand.
"Now they're priceless." Helena said, as the woman took them. She leaned in closer, allowing the bartender to smell the drink on her breath. "Hotel de Società Finzione, La Contessa Suite. Any time from Thursday to Saturday. Let me know how you like them."
With a small kiss, she turned and walked out of the club. By the time she'd gotten to the door, the swagger she walked with acquired a small stumble to it, as though she'd walked into the club 90% drunk already and that last shot had done the job. With a little wobble, she made it to the limousine door, and an Ultimado came and opened it for her.
Contessa Helena de San Finzione stepped into the limo. As she did, she stopped, and seemed to be thinking of something. She looked over to where the man with the video camera was kneeling in the right spot. Then, as she lifted her right leg off the ground, she had a second thought, stopped, and spun around, planting her foot on the ground and causing her skirt to rise up several inches.
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