Татьяна Викентьева – "STOLEN IMMORTALITY" (страница 13)

- Ah, Alexander Ivanovich! Who told you such things about me?

- Well, why are you embarrassed, Vladimir? Are you embarrassed by your lust? Don't be! I'm no angel myself! I can be, like you, base and lustful! What can you do? Our vices have power over us! So, where are we going? Name a place where I can pick up the most beautiful girls.

-The most beautiful girls are very expensive.

- It's none of your concern! I'm the one paying! Well, tell me! Where do we need to go?

-To the restaurant "Elite Vacation".

"Well, let's go. We're going to the Elite Leisure Restaurant. Take off your robe and let's go to the car!" Alexander said, immediately removing his own white robe. Vladimir followed suit.

Then the men left the office and walked down the hallway. Alfred was hurrying toward them. Seeing the boss, he addressed him from a distance:

"Alexander Ivanovich! We carried out your order. We placed the old man and the young man in separate rooms. But you didn't say what to do with them once they regain consciousness!"

Having caught up with Alfred, Alexander said:

-When they come to, and that shouldn't happen before tomorrow, call me! I'll come right away.

-Okay, Alexander Ivanovich. Are you leaving us now?

-Yes. I'm leaving. And Vladimir, too. Tell everyone that the Executioner remains in charge. He will lead you until Vladimir returns. Do you understand?

“Yes,” answered Alfred. “Goodbye, Alexander Ivanovich.”

“Bye!” Alexander said casually and walked further down the corridor.

Vladimir is behind him.

As the men left the laboratory, a car pulled up to the porch. The driver stuck his head out the window and asked:

-Where are we going, Alexander Ivanovich?

“To the Elite Leisure restaurant,” Alexander answered, getting into the Mercedes.

“Where is such a restaurant located?” Tikhon asked.

“He’s in Moscow on Arbat,” Vladimir answered for Alexander, also getting into the car.

- Got it. I'll take you there. - The driver started the car, and it moved off.

They drove along a dirt road at first. Then they turned onto the highway. Looking out the window was dull. Bare trees and car signs. A dull landscape. So Alexander turned his gaze to his companion. Vladimir Zverev had intrigued him from the moment they met. He'd intrigued him as an extraordinary individual, capable of exceptional cruelty and cynicism. And now, Alexander looked at Vladimir and recalled his story.

Vladimir Zverev was born into an intelligent and wealthy family. His father was the chief physician of a Moscow clinic. A first-class specialist who saved dozens of lives, he was respected by both colleagues and patients and received numerous awards for his achievements in medicine. His mother was a renowned actress at the Moscow Art Theater. A beautiful, charming, and highly talented woman, she was adored and worshiped by her fans and lavished with praise by the capital's press. Her performances were always sold out.

Overall, the Zverev family was prosperous in every way. And Vladimir was an only child. A desired and beloved child. A child who was doted upon. A child who was always and completely indulged. A child who was pampered and protected from all the difficulties and sorrows of life.

From childhood, the boy grew up very intelligent and inquisitive. He was interested in both medicine and theater, equally. Volodya attended all the performances in which his mother acted. He also spent a lot of time at the clinic where his father worked. He enjoyed observing doctors and their patients, just as he enjoyed watching actors and audience reactions at the theater.

When Volodya grew up and entered high school, his parents began to think about his future and career. His father insisted that his son enroll in medical school after graduating, arguing that acting was not a man's profession, and that medicine was a worthy occupation for a man. Volodya and his mother agreed. And so, Vladimir eventually became a medical student.

Having immersed himself in student life, the young man noticed that his classmates were interested in more than just their studies. The boys were interested in girls, and the girls were interested in boys. They flirted with each other, went to parties, and had affairs. Much the same thing had happened in high school. But back then, Volodya hadn't paid any attention to it. But now, he did. Moreover, he himself had developed a curiosity about the opposite sex. And he began to take a closer look at his classmates. However, eighteen-year-old girls held no attraction for him. Finding nothing interesting in them, Volodya thought, "They're just empty, dressed-up dolls. What do guys see in them? Why do they need these flighty girls?" He soon found the answer to this question.

Volodya was invited to a party held at his classmate Sergei Bykov's country house. It was in honor of Sergei Bykov's friend Irochka Zotova's birthday.

The party was filled with young people. Smartly dressed young men and women congratulated the birthday girl and gave her gifts. Volodya also congratulated Irochka on her birthday and presented her with flowers and a gift.

After the congratulations, they moved on to the feast. The young people happily drank strong alcoholic beverages and snacked on vegetable salads, caviar sandwiches, and other delicious food. Only Volodya didn't drink. At first, they looked at him like a black sheep, and then stopped paying any attention.

The more they drank, the more they loosened up. The guys started telling dirty jokes, and the girls laughed at them. Then someone suggested dancing. They turned on loud music and began dancing wildly. The alcohol they'd consumed increasingly excited the young people, breaking down their psychological barriers and inciting them to committing madness. The girls began to press themselves ever closer to the guys. And the guys finally gave in to their hands, shamelessly groping their classmates in all their attractive feminine parts. Soon, the dancing escalated into an all-out orgy. The girls shed their clothes, revealing their seductive young bodies. And the guys began to passionately caress them, kiss them, and...

Volodya, who hadn't participated in the wild dancing and the orgy that followed, watched the proceedings with the eyes of a sober man. He was stunned by what he saw. After all, when he went to this party, he hadn't even imagined it would end in group sex. At the same time, Volodya watched the proceedings greedily, intently, and didn't want to leave. It seemed as if all this baseness and filth, the animalistic underbelly of human nature, was drawing him in and dragging him into a whirlpool of vice and impurity.

Determined to watch the entire orgy to the end, as if it were a fascinating film, Volodya settled comfortably into his chair. Minutes passed. The boys and girls switched sex partners. And Volodya watched, watched, watched... It was a strange sight. A sober eighteen-year-old boy watching his drunken peers having group sex in front of him.

After that party, Vladimir Zverev felt something had changed in his life. He could no longer live as before. All his foundations were shaken. All his ideals were debunked. Having come into contact with the harsh reality of life, he was disillusioned. Disillusioned like a homebody who had never known vice before. And yet, at the same time, Volodya was captivated. Captivated by a new, previously unknown realm of pleasure.

An eighteen-year-old boy felt like a man. For the first time in his life! It was a revelation. A passionate desire for a woman's body inspired Vladimir to search for his love object. He began feverishly searching for the woman he wanted to possess. And he found such a woman. He found her...in his mother. His mother was his ideal of femininity, grace, charm, and charisma—everything he sought and failed to find in women his own age.

Elena Sergeevna Zvereva, a beautiful and slender forty-year-old blonde, looked considerably younger than her years. She was graceful and attractive. Her profession as an actress never allowed her to relax. Daily morning exercises, a balanced diet, and a healthy lifestyle preserved her natural beauty and grace. Therefore, in the theater, she continued to play the roles of Juliets, Ophelias, Cordelias, and other young divas.

Volodya fell instantly, madly, and passionately in love with his mother. It was a secret love. A mad love. It drove him to base and vulgar acts. Trying to see his mother naked, he began spying on her when she was in her bedroom or bathroom. He devoured her with his eyes when she showered, when she changed, when she had sex with his father. In his mother's absence, he caressed and kissed her clothes, took them to his room, and practically worshiped them there. He felt as if his mother's underwear held her warmth and tenderness. However, neither spying on his mother nor her underwear could satisfy Vladimir's intense desire. And this left him suffering and tormented.

Elena Sergeyevna, however, remained oblivious to what was happening to her son. Remaining a loving mother, she continued to care for Vladimir, taking an interest in his affairs, his friends, and his studies at medical school. But it never occurred to her that her son would fall in love. Of course, like any mother, she assumed it would happen someday. She even resigned herself to the fact that in the future, her son would leave home and start his own family with a young and beautiful woman. But that future seemed so far away! First, her son had to mature, graduate from medical school, get a good job, and build a career. And only then would he fall in love and get married. Such were Elena Sergeyevna's plans.