As Day Follows Night Pt. 02

"I go to parties, sometimes until four.
It's hard to leave when you can't find the door.
It's tough to handle this fortune and fame.
Everybody's so different, I haven't changed."
-Joe Walsh, "Life's Been Good"

La Contessa's Eurocopter EC 155 was powered up and waiting on the helipad when she emerged from the castle. Unbowed by the winds pushing down and back from the circling blades, she climbed the little steps into the vehicle and strapped in. The pilot confirmed that she was secure and took off away from the setting Sun and toward the darkening San Finzione City skyline.

The helicopter easily made its way through the few tall office buildings that comprised the city center. The pilot brought it to a hover over the end of a city park and pointed at the 300-year-old church visible several blocks away.

"Is edge of the No Fly Zone, Contessa," the pilot shouted over his shoulder. "As close as I can take you."

Helen clicked her tongue in irritation and picked up the night-vision binoculars. What was the point of diplomatic immunity if you couldn't use it to spy on your ex-lovers?

"Then take us lower," she said as she looked past the park below to the entrance of St. Francis de Sales Cathedral. First Evening Mass had ended and the faces coming out of the cathedral were too distant to make out clearly, but she spotted the big white sun hat and gaudy red glasses that Julie was wearing in the pictures the detective had sent her from when they left the hotel. And with that to look for, it made it easier to find Troy.

The police officers that had been following the two hadn't had much to report. They'd gone to the usual tourist stops: one of the ancient ruins, a couple of shops, and some pictures at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; and now they were attending Mass?

Helen had needed to see it herself. There was no way they'd become church-goers in the last three weeks. She could see Troy going to church for some special occasion; but why would he when he had Heaven right there between Julie's legs?

And yet, there they were, chatting away with the priest by the front door. She had no idea what they were saying, but from the look of them, if they'd been back in the states, they might be talking about volunteering for the church picnic. Julie would make her famous potato salad and maybe Troy and Pastor Bob could fire up the grill and toss the ol' pigskin around. Was this their scheme for revenge? Becoming boring on her?

Well, Troy looked like it, anyway. Julie had a "Hi, I'm Sophia Loren on vacation in Europe in 1965 and trying not to be noticed but failing badly because I'm fucking 1960s Sophia Loren" look going on.

Helen avoided church except on holidays where La Contessa was expected to make an appearance and on the anniversary of the Count's death. She knew black and emerald was a good look for her, and it was always so nice to see how the other side of the family was getting along. After the Count died, there'd been all manner of yelling and squabbling and demanding inheritances. She was looking at years of litigation, and the family had laughed when she showed up to the meeting with them and their lawyers without bringing one of her own.

The meeting had taken an hour, and by the end of it, everyone was satisfied that the Count had truly wished to leave everything to his beloved Contessa, that the relatives would be content to live with the trust funds the Count had set up for them years before the marriage, and that the fortune and title were safe in New Great-Grandmamma Helena's hands.

The lawyers obligingly drew up the paperwork for free, and everyone was happy. Even the silverware and heirlooms that had disappeared immediately after the Count's death were returned to her, and if any of the family had issues with the way things are now, an overnight visit to Great-Grandmamma's castle always helped them see reason.

Helen realized she'd let her mind drift and hadn't been paying attention to what was going on through the binoculars. Troy and the priest were now looking straight at the helicopter and pointing at it. Troy motioned for Julie to come over. Helen couldn't read his lips, but was sure he was saying something like "Hey, honey, come take a look at this." She came up between the two men and looked Helen's direction as if she'd just noticed the emerald green 8-passenger helicopter with the San Finzione family crest painted on it that'd been hovering over a city street a few blocks ahead of them for a good ten minutes now, then took a disposable camera out of her purse and snapped a picture.

Helen laughed as they continued doing their gawky American tourist act. She bounced up and down in her seat and clapped her hands with glee. They'd drawn her out. A total sucker play and she fell for it. They thought she might be having them watched, and doing something this out-of-character for both of them was enough to lure her out into the open to see for herself. And now she'd been sitting here hovering in a helicopter for several minutes, probably disrupting traffic down below, staring at them like a stalker several hundred feet above the ground.

Oh, that couldn't be their whole plan, but it forced her into a position where there were only two moves she could make: She could land and get out and walk the length of the park to welcome them with open arms, but that was not the kind of spectacle she preferred to make. If she'd taken the limo, she could have driven right up to the church and gotten out and welcomed them, but she'd wanted to get there quickly, so she'd chosen the quickest, but also most conspicuous method of travel at her disposal, and it was hard to make an entrance after walking several blocks in an evening gown and heels.

The other option was to turn the helicopter around and go home, not directly, though, or it would seem she was running like a peeping tom who'd been caught. They'd put her into a situation with no graceful exit. Unless... Helen leaned forward into the cockpit and pointed at the pilot.

"Once around the city, then home."

* * *

They waved to the helicopter as it began moving. Troy shook the priest's hand and thanked him again for the uplifting service before putting an arm around his lovely companion and walking away.

"That was amusing," she said to him as they walked.

"We spoiled Helen's entrance. She won't be back tonight. So, hit the taverna next?"

"I'd rather go back to the hotel, but sure, I could use a victory drink after that."

The streetlights came on as they walked towards the park to find a taxi stand.

* * *

La Contessa didn't wait for the rotors to stop spinning before getting out and quickly walking back into the castle. Maria was waiting by the door for her.

"La Contessa is alone tonight?" She asked as Helena walked past her without answering. Maria dutifully followed her through the castle. The Countess kicked off her heels and slid the straps of her gown off, letting it fall to the floor as they walked. Maria picked it up and followed her to the bedroom. The other servants they passed were used to seeing La Contessa walking around the castle nude and either averted their eyes or stared longingly, filing away the image until they were off duty.

When they made it to the bedroom, La Contessa flung herself onto the bed. Maria closed the door behind them and hung up the gown as Helen spread her legs. The thrill of knowing that the game was now on in earnest, even if she had conceded this first round to them, was still a turn-on, and the helicopter ride home had done nothing to diminish it. She reached down and began slowly stroking her already wet snatch.

Maria slipped out of her maid's outfit and climbed onto the bed, preparing to service La Contessa, when Helen sat up and stroked her cheek.

"Have you ever been in love with two people at the same time, Maria?" The girl shook her head no. "The only thing worse than making love with someone who is, even subconsciously, holding part of him or herself back, is knowing exactly for whom they're both saving that piece of themselves; even if they're too blind to see how much they belong together."

Maria nodded sadly, then leaned in and kissed her. "I love my Contessa."

"I know, Maria. I'm the one who made you love me."

"I do not care about this, only about my Contessa."

"Also my doing. I want to be alone for this. You may watch from the chair and touch yourself if you like. I'm certain I'll want you for round two."

"Si, Contessa. Would you like me to wear the wig?"

Helen thought for a moment. "Yes." Maria walked over to the vanity and took a long, blonde wig with long, brown roots off of a mannequin head. She put on the wig, then turned the chair to face her Contessa and sat down.

Helen lay back on the bed and continued touching herself. Damn, why did those two have to be so unimaginative; happy with the white picket fence and their harem of fucktoys? With the power they shared, together they could have the whole world.

Images filled her mind as she rubbed her clit. Images of a glorious Queen of the World; feared, loved, and fantasized about by all, her two favored slaves servicing her night and day. Or two queens, ruling side-by-side, their cockslave Troy kneeling at their feet, taking turns worshipping.

Or even a king, yes! If anyone would be a good and just ruler and make the world a truly better place, it would be Troy; his two favored slaves fighting for the honor of servicing their king's cock. Or a queen by his side, their mindless fucktoy riding her king while pleasuring her queen with her mouth. The fact that she couldn't decide which of the women in these fantasies she wanted most to be was enough to send her over the edge and she thrashed wildly as she came screaming.

Maria walked back over to the bed. "Are you ready for me, Contessa?"

She nodded. "Yes, but call me Helen when you wear the wig."

"Si, Helen."

As Maria's tongue replaced Helen's fingers, the Contessa looked back at the day she'd had. If she continued to simply observe them from a distance, whatever revenge they had planned would go off without a hitch.

It was time to take action. After she was finished with Maria.

"Turn this way, I want to 69 you."

"Si, Helen."

* * *

"She is demon," said one of the men around the table.

"No, of not to be demon. Vampire, perhaps," said another.

"Eh, I do not know of vampire, but is definitely witch," added a third.

Troy bought the table another round of drinks. Three tables away, Julie was doing the same with a group of women around her own table. A TV in the taverna was set on a news channel, showing footage of La Contessa's strange flight through the city earlier that evening.

Troy gave a little smile as he downed another shot of Raki. The machismo seated around the table with him had gotten a bit infectious, and his empathetic nature combined with his fifth shot hadn't done much to keep him from getting caught up in it as well. He pointed Julie out to the men sitting with him.

"See that one there? She's mine. We just got married." Backslaps and cheers of congratulations went around the table.

"Better hope La Contessa doesn't see that one," Demon said to him.

"Oh, we're not too worried about her. She's been having her police follow us all day." Vampire and Demon looked around suspiciously. Witch gave Troy another pat on the back.

"Hey, looks like someone's getting iPad," said Witch, causing the other two to laugh and Troy to look confused. Witch explained. "When she take people back to castle, La Contessa always send them home with basket of gifts."

"Oh, si," Vampire offered. "The ones she likes best, she puts iPad in basket, so when you see sexy woman or good-looking man in San Finzione with iPad, you know they special guests of La Contessa."

Demon was still staring at Julie. "I think maybe you both be getting new iPads soon." Everyone laughed, including Troy.

Troy eyed the darkened small stage with an empty microphone and a karaoke machine in the corner.

"Does that work," he asked the men at the table.

"Heh, always the touristas with the karaoke," Vampire laughed. "No, karaoke is only weekends. No exceptions."

The Raki had gotten to Troy's head a bit and he laid a 20 Euro note on the table. "This says they'll turn it on for me." Something about the good nature of the tourist who'd bought the last four rounds made all three men take out their wallets and lay their own cash down as well.

Troy got up and signaled the bartender. The three men at the table couldn't hear him from that distance, just saw the bartender nod in the negative, and then in the positive a couple of times before turning on the lights over the little stage. He walked back over to the table, wordlessly took their money, then walked over to Julie and gave her a slap on the ass before wobbling a little to the stage as the backup singers on the karaoke disc began singing the opening of Dean Martin's Mambo Italiano.

At her table, Julie motioned for the women seated with her to check out the stage. Troy grabbed the microphone right on cue for his first "Hey, Mambo, Mambo Italiano." He took the microphone off the stand and hopped off the stage, wandering through the tables like a lounge singer, reaching Julie's table in time to point the microphone at her and let her sing the like about trying an enchilada with a fishy baccala-la.

He sang his way back up to the stage and motioned for Julie to come up with him. She hopped out of her seat and joined him onstage in time to do a little tango during the instrumental. He gave her a little smooch before she returned to the table and he belted out the final verse. The room applauded as Troy took a bow.

"Thank you, everyone, thank you; Grazi, gracias, efharisto, merci. Ladies and Gentlemen, three weeks ago, I kept a promise I made at the age of four and went back home to marry the girl next door. Julie, stand up and take a bow." The room applauded as she did so. Troy continued.

"We'd planned to spend our honeymoon in our home town seeing old friends, but something... inspired us to come to San Finzione. And we'd like to have a word with you about it now. But first, show of hands, who here is with the police?"

Four hands raised around the room, including Vampire's. "Well, if you four would care to take a seat over at this table, I'd like to have a special word with you. Everyone else, if you'd remain at your seats; I mean, go to the washroom if you need to, but then come back; Julie will be coming around to talk to you and I'll be joining her as soon as I've finished my talk with local law enforcement. Until then, bartender, a round for the house!"

The crowd cheered as Troy left the stage and sat down with the police officers.