Татьяна Викентьева – "STOLEN IMMORTALITY" (страница 19)

"She can't. She's tried several times, but she can't. And she suffers greatly from this. She even attempted suicide twice. Sheikh Rashid loves his daughter very much and doesn't want her to die. That's why he decided to help her regain the body of a beautiful, slender woman. Leila chose the body of Russian model Svetlana Lazareva. And that's why the sheikh is now preoccupied with arranging Svetlana Lazareva's kidnapping. That's why he came to this restaurant with a translator.

- So, you agreed to perform the operation to transfer the soul of the sheikh's daughter into the body of Svetlana Lazareva?

"I had to agree. I didn't want to. But Easterners are very dangerous. Refuse their request, and they'll harbor a grudge and start seeking revenge! So, I had to agree. I promised the sheikh that I would perform the operation to transfer his daughter's soul into the body of the model Svetlana Lazareva.

"I see," Vladimir managed to say, just as a bright light flashed and loud music began to play. "And now the show begins. Look at the stage, Alexander Ivanovich."

First, a man in a black tailcoat came onto the stage and announced:

Dear Sirs! We present to you a most fascinating show. Renowned Russian fashion models will now demonstrate elite clothing for the wealthy. And not only clothing. They will also show you themselves – the most beautiful women, renowned throughout the world! After our show, you can invite your favorite model to your table, and she will spend the evening with you.

"Spend the evening? What does he mean?" Alexander asked Vladimir, pointing at the man in the black tailcoat.

"He means the show will continue at the tables. Typically, male clients invite the models they like to their table and have a good time with them."

-And this, of course, is not free?

- Yes. Like everything else in this world. To get the model you like to spend the evening at your table, you need to pay three hundred dollars. Pay that man in the black tailcoat who announces the show.

-Is he a pimp?

- No. He's a showman. He has to share the money he gets from customers with the owners of this restaurant.

-I see. Everyone has their share.

-This is true.

-And what next? These girls spend the evening with the clients, eating and drinking at their expense. And that's it?

"And then it's by personal agreement with the girls. Usually, the male clients take the girls from here to expensive hotels and continue their fun there."

- So the girls sell themselves?

"I can't say for sure. In any case, each girl names her own price and takes the money from the client herself. And what happens to the money afterwards, I don't know. Perhaps the girls give some of the money to the restaurant owners or the show organizer. Or perhaps they keep it all for themselves."

- I see. A sort of elite prostitution. Well, let's see how it differs from regular prostitution and whether it's worth the money.

- Believe me, Alexander Ivanovich, it justifies.

-Have you already used the services of these models?

Vladimir wanted to answer his boss's question. But at that moment, the lights went out and the music grew even louder. The room where the clients were seated remained in darkness. The stage lit up a few seconds later. Girls began to appear on stage, each more beautiful than the next. They were wearing elegant dresses and expensive jewelry. A man in a black tailcoat announced the first and last names of each model and recounted their performances on prestigious Russian and international catwalks.

Alexander and Vladimir gazed at the girls, mesmerized. And truly, there was something to behold! Slender, graceful, youthful bodies! Beautiful faces! Fashionable hairstyles! Sultry gazes! The models aroused desire. Passionate desire in every man in the audience. That's what the show was designed for.

“What magnificence of female bodies!” exclaimed Alexander.

“You’re right, Alexander Ivanovich!” Vladimir supported his boss. “Indeed,

Magnificent! These girls are like pearls! One more beautiful than the other! It's hard to choose!

At this time, a man in a black tailcoat announced the next model:

-And now I present to you the celebrated model Svetlana Lazareva! Come meet her, gentlemen!

The girl who walked onto the stage wasn't just a pretty girl. She was perfect.

Svetlana Lazareva's classically refined form and aristocratic features set her apart from all other models. She was the epitome of beauty, harmony, and grace. Therefore, when she appeared on stage, all the men gasped in amazement and admiration.

"Oh, how beautiful she is! How beautiful!" Alexander exclaimed. "She has some kind of unearthly, magical beauty. I want to look at her forever! Without looking away for a minute!"

"Yes, you're right, Alexander Ivanovich!" Vladimir echoed his boss. "Svetlana Lazareva is the star of all fashion models. She's the most beautiful of the beautiful!"

A man in a black tailcoat began listing Svetlana Lazareva's titles, won in various beauty pageants. Then the show's organizer began recounting the model's numerous appearances on prestigious Russian and international catwalks. Meanwhile, Svetlana Lazareva walked around the stage to music, demonstrating both her clothes and herself to clients. She wore a short, thin skirt that revealed almost all of her slender, luscious legs, and an equally thin blouse that revealed her firm, perfectly formed breasts.

As the man in the black tailcoat finished his speech and the music reached its climax, Svetlana Lazareva made two imperceptible hand movements and instantly appeared before the audience in just her bathing suit. No one understood how she had managed to remove her skirt and blouse so quickly and easily. All the men gasped again in amazement and admiration! Then a thunderous storm of applause erupted. Svetlana Lazareva bowed coldly and left the stage.

The show's organizer began announcing the next model. But Alexander and Vladimir didn't hear him. They were still captivated by Svetlana Lazareva's perfect beauty. It was an obsession! Magic, if you will! Only perfect, unearthly beauty could work such a miracle! The men continued to experience feelings of amazement and admiration! They were brought out of this state by the waiter who brought their order.

"Gentlemen! I've brought everything you ordered," he said, and began placing various dishes on the table. Vladimir shuddered, coming to his senses. And Alexander winced in displeasure. The magic of beauty had vanished. Vanished with the arrival of the waiter. And the men returned to reality once more.

“Thank you,” Alexander said and asked, pointing to the dishes. “Are these the dishes that the people sitting in front of us ordered?”

“Yes,” the waiter answered.

“Well, we’ll be happy to try them,” Alexander stated.

“Bon appétit, gentlemen!” said the waiter and left.

Alexander looked at the dishes brought and said:

-Come on, Vladimir, let's try the dishes that Sheikh Rashid and his translator ordered.

“Go ahead, Alexander Ivanovich,” Vladimir nodded and also looked at the dishes that had been brought.

-But first, let's have a drink.

-I don't mind. Let's have a drink.

- So, what did they bring us here? - Alexander took the decanter brought by the waiter and began to look at its contents. - I wonder what this is? Vodka?

"Unlikely. Easterners don't like vodka, they like wine," Vladimir said.

-So, this is white wine?

-Probably. We should try. Then we'll find out.

-Yes. Let's taste it. Pour it, Vladimir.

Vladimir poured, and the men drank. They tasted a pleasant, sour taste. They concluded it was wine. Then they began to sample the unknown dishes.

"What is this?" Alexander asked, eating fried meat stuffed with sweet vegetables with gusto. "It looks like a shashlik with vegetables. But what kind of meat is this shashlik made of?"

-I think from camel meat.

-Yes? Why do you think so, Vladimir?

-Your sheikh is from the East. And in the East, they love camel shashlik.

-I see that you, Vladimir, are an expert in oriental cuisine!

"Oh, come on, Alexander Ivanovich! If I were an expert on Eastern cuisine, I'd tell you the name of this delicious dish and what it's made from," Vladimir said, pointing to the dish he was currently enjoying. "But I can't tell you. I don't know what this dish is or what it's made from. I only know one thing: it's very, very tasty."

"Well, Vladimir, let's not worry about what these dishes are called or what they're made from. Let's just enjoy them!"

- I agree, Alexander Ivanovich! You are right as always!

The men began to enjoy the unfamiliar dishes. Enthralled, they seemed to have forgotten the ongoing show. Meanwhile, various models took to the stage. The show's host continued to announce each girl's first and last name and recount their performances on Russian and international runways.

By the time Alexander and Vladimir had had their fill, the show was already over. A man in a black tailcoat announced the final model:

- And now, gentlemen, before you is the last participant of our show - Olga Kudrina. Please meet her!

A model with long dark hair and a seductive figure walked onto the stage. Upon seeing her, Alexander's expression changed, he jumped up from his seat, and exclaimed: