‘ELLE OF THE BALL -I” – (An Abridged Electronic Read & Blurb)

🥀🍾🔥ELLE OF THE BALL – Lust, Love & Mayhem During the 2003 Republican Gubernatorial Fundraiser🥀🍾🔥


Author – Writer of Glam Lit, Chick Lit, Political, Military & Romantic Dark Suspense

Trilogy Genres: Glam Lit, Geo Political Romantic Suspense, Military BWWM, Dark & Fiery Romance (Erotica)



Fall 2022 – ELLE OF THE BALL – I

Meet Ms. Elle of the Ball – “The Iron Magnolia”




n an unusually warm Saturday night in January of 2003, Mr. Dominick Rediccio Segretti Jr. hosted a Republican Gubernatorial Fundraiser at his breathtaking San Juan Creek estate. The Lord of the Manor hosted a wondrous event that night under a moon that was full and filled with an endless parade of millionaire and billionaire tycoon types, mischief, and unbelievable opportunities to their cause (donations…donations…donations).

Don Rediccio, the Dapper Don, as many of his southern cohorts duly named him, stood on the side curb, blushing with anticipation. The gentleman was sexy in his Armani Tux, with the satin `and velvet trim. It cupped and outlined his powerful pecks and thick muscular neck that drove the ladies wild with wonder and unspoken desires. Dominick anxiously awaited a special arrival. The country gentleman and philanthropist awaited his notorious Mistress, the lady Elle, a.k.a., The Iron Magnolia. The don had lived for this one night over half the year, so his heart and emotions were set to full tilt on such a spell- binding night. Too bad he could not have foreseen that this night, in all its wonderment, would make his gorgeous and spectacular event…the fundraiser from hell!
The tardy Lady Elle was fashionably late on purpose, as usual. She loved the way the don awaited her arrivals with unbridled anticipation to those events often held at his estate.

Her limo pulled up to the curb directly in front of the impatient gentleman. Before the chauffeur could exit his vehicle, it was too late. The Don was on the job. He swung the rear door open, poked his head inside saying not a word. The moment was captured in those gorgeous hazel green eyes of his filled with exhilarated joy. All was right in his world. His Elle had finally arrived, and she was now in his full quarter. Nothing that evening, with one exception, could fulfill the Don’s heart more.

The Dapper Don gave Ms. Elle a Cheshire cat smile followed by a beguiling wink and twinkle, with his devilishly delicious hazel green eyes. No words were needed at that moment, because both lover’s instincts were in sync. By doing so, the intu- itive gentleman was affording his elegant and grand peeress a few moments to gather her St. John mink Sable Stole, Nina Ricci diamond studded clutch (all birthday gifts from the Don), and her long satin gloves, which she donned immediately. The Don loved watching his label ladened mistress beyond words. Watching her put on and complete her full elegant ensemble was not only a treat but a delicious tease, as well. In the back of his mind, the Don undressed her to his delight and awe (in secret, of course). Call it a gentleman’s prerogative, so to speak. Elle, raptured in it!

Once the anxious billionaire and host was rewarded with a full view of his Elle, the gentleman’s jaw dropped, completely open! Ms. Iron Magnolia emerged from that limo a vision to behold. She wore a long white wool and black satin Venetian styled ball gown. The dress draped her body like Julius Caesar’s royal robes (every robust and voluptuous curve). Underneath, the mistress’s Old English styled corset lifted and perked her full bosom into perfect symmetry, in her flowing ball gown with the faux train (ladies love to give those subtle hints). She was all labels and elegance, on this night. Talk about the billionaire lover’s Elle of the Ball!

Of course, the Don was beyond elation, especially after the full view of her full bosom and dangerous curves! How could the gentleman not be? Elle truly looked like old money, all around. The couple, for whatever reason, took their own sweet time matriculating into one another’s personal space. The Iron Magnolia was in no hurry. Underneath, for whatever reason Elle felt a slight uneasiness in the evening’s airy under breath. Her Louisiana Bayou roots were on full tilt! Yet, the don’s peeress strolled along despite her uneasiness. Sometimes, curiosity got the better of Mistress Elle’s most intrepid instincts, so to speak. However, this uneasiness on this peculiar and enigmatic night⸻were all placed securely in that cognitive Pandora’s box of hers She glided like a beautiful swan in her Christian Lacroix red carpet ball gown, which never ceased clinging to her generous curves. Breathing deeply with desire, her beau (the don), inhaled her alluring and spellbinding perfume, (Chanel #19’s limited edition). The Mistress Elle never played fair…even with the Dapper Don’s libido and desires. That mistress was all about control.

He’d have sworn the very fragrance emanating this woman stole his soul and will. It mixed with her body’s pheromones the likes of a wicked witch’s spell. In addition, she’d often remarked to him that she wore the scent just to drive his sexy ass wild with primal and unbridled desire. Hell, it worked!

Pausing, Dominick, pulled his darling aside to steal a kiss. Touching her skin made his hands tremble and quake with want. “God knows I want to peel every piece and layer of those beautiful garbs from your body and make power driven love to you right here and now.” His eyes were filled with the hunger of
an infant needing his feeding. “I know.” Elle sighed back into his mouth and kissed him back.” Her full ruby red lips engulfed both his lips and tongue, giving her excited beau a gentle arousal.

“We might make everyone jealous,” she replied softly. “Everyone else here envies us enough already, my dearest love.” She whispered over pursed lips. Reluctant to stop kissing his dear sweet, he took her hand and began a very hurried exodus towards their private place on his grounds. While in route, the gentleman could not help but playfully tease and taunt Elle for her tardiness (One of the two needed to break the heat of the moment.).

“You know, my love, your beautiful ass is always late to my events, on purpose, of course!” He chuckled with teasing and excitement, and with a slight southern elocution in his voice. “I know.” Elle recanted, rather sensually. “I do it on purpose.” Her eyes met his, in a devilish coquettish fashion. Daring the don to challenge her, almost. The gentleman did not take the bait!

It didn’t bother Dominick much (her tardiness) because he knew his Elle. She had to make her entrance for those donors and guests who didn’t know her, and a grand entrance for the guests who did. Plus, it was also a power play by both Elle and him. Together, they were killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. That billionaire playboy and scoundrel began to reflect on the manner his lovely southern belle emerged from the far side of her limo that evening, straight into his arms, with a small kiss on his lips and a huge red lip print on his cheek. That didn’t stop him from taking another moment to steal another kiss. Just like the Don, he gotta take what he wants when he wants it!

Oblivious to that fact, Elle and her Italian/German stallion continued strutting down the estates lengthy and well-manicured walkway as if they owned the night, unwise to the fact that the night’s mischievousness would own them both, before this spectacular evening ended. Caution and prudence were tossed to the wind the moment the starry-eyed lovers locked arms. Elle gazed giddily at Don because his face was lit up like a “New Orleans Mardi Gras’s Fat Tuesday”. Every few seconds the lady would give her beautiful beau an extra shake and soft touch. This was a small reminder that he was all hers and hers alone. (Total power play).

“You know, Dominick, you charming devil, you. your ass is
just too fucking Sicilian sexy and beguiling tonight. You look like a decadent and forbidden delicacy.” She smiled and cooed close to his earlobe.

“However, to some of these old bitches you look like old fucking money, and you know it!” His mistress laughed, but she coyly made a portion of her real feelings known.
Perking his lips and winking devilishly, the gentleman chuckled with utter delight, knowing his Mistress was as smitten by love as he was. Too bad he was unaware of the fact that the Iron Magnolia within his Mistress Elle was giving him a warning.

F L I R T I N G & D O N A T I O N S T O T H E C A U S E

Finally, the couple reached the entrance to Dominick’s soiree. The view was breathtaking! Once he and his Elle emerged into plain view of his guests waiting to be formally announced at the entrance of the ball, the soft whispers began swirling, the likes of a runaway freight train.

Unfortunately, from those who approved and disapproved of the two lovers romantic and fiscal alliance. Ms. Emily Post would have turned beet red from many of the intentional infractions of proper etiquette. Nonetheless, the lady Elle and her Dom journeyed on to take their place in the awaiting procession, into the ball.

In front of Elle and Don was State Senator Swanson (Republi- can) and Congressional Senator Albright (Democrat) both retired, along with their wives (old south debutantes, of course). Once the senators caught Elle’s full silhouette, after giving her the once over visually, the gentleman spoke up immediately, with eyes filled with pleasing comportment.

“Well… Milady, you sure know how to make quite the entrance.”
“Wwwoooww…so this is what happens when old money and new money form an alliance,” Senator Swanson said with a boyish charm. His eyes met Elle’s gleaming smile.
“Why, if it isn’t one of Georgia’s own heroes and scoundrels,” she resonated with her deeply hidden southern elocution.

Of course, she gave the gentlemen hugs, knowing full well those old coots lived for that type of flirting. Elle could have cared less. The savvy mistress knew exactly what she was doing. Besides, those old boys loved her and vice-versa. The flirty antics were harmless, at best. The gentlemen wasted not a moment playing along, as their medium sized hard-ons began to give way to all the excitement. Besides, they never stopped blushing like misbe- having schoolboys. Don wore his power hard-on, just at the thought.

Looking like the damn Dapper Don he was most famous for! Also, knowing full well his Mistress Elle taunted those hard-ons most surreptitiously. She was too good at it, for him to ever mind, or give a good goddamn! On that night it was all about hefty donations, not the rant or anger of a jealous lover. Besides, the gentlemen’s eyes rolled like sharks, with excitement. Thinking quietly that his peeress would be shark bate, eventually. Of course, at another place and time.

“Upon my word, Senator Swanson…give this beautiful swan room to breathe, please.” His voice nearly cracked from his excitement and glee. But that was Senator Albright, for you.

“Please forgive our forwardness, but I have to agree with the senator somewhat, darlin!”

“You really do look like the grandeur of the old south mixed with the nuance of the new south. I believe many of you movers and shakers about this town call it the dirty south.”

Elle could not help herself. She had to chuckle at these grey-haired southern gentlemen oohing and awing over her, along with the wealth and power she brought to the table.

As for the wives, well, they may have smiled and curtseyed, but they could not have cared less for the Lady Elle, or rather Mistress Elle. It was dead center their eyes and stoic conversation. The ladies only spoke to greet Elle.

Unfortunately, her presence was more of a torment than a pleasure. It was a reminder of the changing times. And Elle’s smooth chocolate and mocha rich skin was a daunting reminder of the changing of the times.

At this point, Elle took a backseat to the Iron Magnolia. Ms. Magnolia took a bold step forward, wrapped her one arm into Senator Swanson’s, and the other into Senator Albright’s as she batted those gorgeous and beguiling sparkling brown eyes of hers. Simultaneously, she kissed both gentlemen on their cheeks, one after the other. Of course, she left behind her infamous mark. Elle’s full ruby red lip prints were huge! Needless to say, those old south debutants glared Elle up and down, with pure unadulterated distain and envy! How dare she be so brazen? The don, being of quick wit and instinct, broke the moment’s tension.

“Gentlemen, can Mr. Segretti and I be assured that we can rely on your special guests tonight for some very hefty donations to our cause?” She smiled and leaned forward just a tad, affording both gentlemen a tease and slight wisp of her Chanel number nineteen and her perky smooth breasts. She could be relentless at times. The don merely looked on with his smirk of approval.

As Elle released the gentlemen’s arms, they gallantly and politely tipped their top hats towards her. The senators were blushing like schoolboys, as their wives looked on with both contempt and envy.

“Boys, I release you back into the arms of the ladies you came with; however, I shall purposely reserve two spaces on my dance card tonight.” The don’s mistress informed them with her most infamous, southern, and sensual elocution. No men could resist it, not even the seasoned statesman captured securely by her arms.

“Senator Swanson, you are known for your waltz…I want in on that experience, Sir.” (Mistress Elle gave a slight curtsey.)
“Why Ms. Elle it will be my honor and pleasure.” The gentleman raised her right hand and gently kissed the back of it.

“Well… you can reserve me the foxtrot, Milady,” Mr. Albright stated, as he slightly bumped his colleague out of the way. Of course, he kissed the back of her hand, as well.

A noticeably confident and composed smirking Dapper Don sat back and watched all the pomp and circumstance with great attention and pleasure. Hell, that damn boy knew to expect phenomenal donations from both contenders. It did not bother him, in the slightest, Elle’s flirting and teasing the gentlemen.

Besides, he despised the nasty looks on their wives’ faces towards his Mistress Elle, especially when the ladies heard her called Milady! Not anyone was about to hold his dear Elle with disdain and disrespect…anyone. Especially, not two old south ditties, who really could not stand old and new money relationships, or rather, white men with women of color: which threaten their old south debutant turf. He stood confident, astute, and elated watching his dear Elle at work. Mr. Dominick loved it!

With two state senators, four or five high-end Republican donors, in a rapid forward motion making their way through the crowd of other wannabe high-dollar and high-brow southern aristocratic donors, politicians, and of course, social climbers to the cause. .the night’s fiscal objective was a cinch! Elle and
Dominick had not a worry on their minds. At least, not at this particular moment during his entire fundraiser and soiree! But time, like fate, is always fickle as damn Georgia weather.


It did not take the lady and gent long to cross the crowded dance floor, where the orchestra above was playing loudly and beautifully above the opulent and sumptuous ballroom. Dominick was moving to plan. The glamour and grandeur of the manor, ball- room, and attendees to this soiree would have made all of early twentieth century American aristocracy blush, with both elation and jealousy.

Of course, this was the goal of not only the dapper Don, but Mistress Elle, as well. One of the best kept secrets between the two lovers was that, in actuality, the event planning was actually performed by one of Mistress Elle’s most talented event planners, Mr. Marcus McMillen, who once served the Grand Duchess of Inverness, before he graced the elite classes of the American aristocracy. And what a secret it was!

As the don continued his procession around the ballroom floor and onto the terrace that evening, he was hell bent on getting to his secret destination (the solarium), whether he was rude to his guests or not. The Don really loathed them secretly. If there was one thing Mr. Dominick Rediccio Segretti disdained… it was snobbery and insolence from those who have, against those who have not. This explained so much of his actual snubbing of ole south traditions and most of Emily Post’s rules of etiquette. He, the Don, couldn’t help it. You would’ve thought that damn boy knew better, by now. Men… eye roll).

The Lady Elle was the quintessential It Girl in his eyes! And a few others’, he would later learn. She had a way about her that commanded men’s hearts and intelligence, for that matter. They all loved it! The dapper don would be no exception, no matter how much he loved and endeared his striking and very peculiar beauty!

Elle, of course, at times pretended to be oblivious to this fact. Still, she adored him, as well, though she would never fully admit it openly. This southern belle and iron magnolia” had a very odd manner about her. Her disposition was not negative but simply different and strange to those outside their tiny social circle of die-hard friends. Certain traditions Elle held in the highest of regard, and tight to her chest. She would never concede, ever, ever on these traditions just for a man’s affections, no matter how far they dared to push the envelope with each other.

Oh, she loved men very much! However, ideally, suitors who captivated her interest were of a special caliber. Elle cared less if they were blue collar or white collar, but they must have southern traditional qualities that only a gentleman of good and proper breeding could possess. There was never any in between! The dapper don fit the bill two-fold!

He was a southern gentle- man, a scholar, a rogue, and a brute who loved going toe- to-toe with locals. Mistress Elle ate that up because she learned so much from him about life, love, and business, like the taking care of the business that’s not written about in any college textbook that she knew about. Sicilian businessmen, those boys have some fiscal scholarship for your ass, believe that!

Elle didn’t have one single fucking issue with any of it. Dominick placed her on his business and fiscal Fastrack, straight away! He knew his mistress well! Couple that with Elle’s own cognitive attributes, and you truly have yourself a powerhouse in her own right.

That said, what was it about that man that kept her grazing in his pastures? She could have had the pick of the lot, but dapper Dom’s determination to remain a definite and constant in her life was not only unshakeable but undeniable, as well. Of course, his wide powerhouse masculine member may have added to the fucking thrill of being his. She was on the same sheet of music with him, where the dark and horny sex was concerned.

As long as the gentleman never made it his primary reason for desiring and wanting her. But, good Lord, could she really give up fucking him for two the three hours straight at a time? Not really. That thought she threw out of her mind. She simply chose to concentrate on their love and fiscal ventures together mostly. Smart girl!

The don had this beguiling “school boyish charm” that Elle found magnetically enticing. Couple that with his smooth sexy ass New Yorkist and Kentucky drawl. In many ways, the two were perfectly matched, but in other ways, the two lovers clashed liked two titans. What could you expect from two Scor- pio’s, besides the heated magnetism?

Dominick could have cared less! This beautiful mistress was his for the taking, and he would have her lock, stock, and barrel, or not at all. The latter was not an option. However, on that particular night the beau- tiful swan (Elle) decided to open the gates of the “ice palace” (her heart) and allow her beau of the moment to enter it without incident.

Little could she have known that by night’s end, that ice palace of hers would be spun into a total nuclear level melt- down! She simply glided down that garden path completely oblivious of the mental and emotional peril awaiting her. Their bond and trust between one another were about to be placed under the microscope and the litmus test, as well!

The two lovers continued their walk through the night, entangled mentally and physically with one another, yet trying desperately to keep a safe distance emotionally, which was nearly impossible. Two lovers felt they had the control of both fate and destiny. Notttt! Together they were like two magnets unable to perfectly stick, like Maggie the Cat’s curiosity always got the better of her ambivalence like in the screenplay and movie Cat on A Hot Tin Roof. Especially when it came to the dapper don’s dark and sacred desires!

While wrapped tightly in Don’s arm, Elle walked slowly and proudly by his side. The enamored Mistress and lady graciously glided down that garden path in her Christian Lacroix gorgeous gown, always accompanied by her favorite and spellbinding perfume (Chanel #19) that filled the air with an enigmatic and spellbinding aroma. One would swear the very fragrance itself took on a mesmerizing life of its own.

She often remarked to the dapper don that she wore the scent just to drive him wild with desire──hell it worked! His willpower literally drowned itself in it! No one needed to tell this loveable neurotic beauty that she looked beautiful. She not only knew it, but she also chose to flaunt it! (And why not?)

Many close to the don swore he undressed his mistress every time she entered the room or his personal space. Elle and Don weren’t new to the game. They were true to the game (winner take all)! If beauty and enticement turned the Don on, Elle used it to her advantage at every turn. Those ties would come to bind them. The likes of a made woman and made man, by the infamous “La Cosa Nostra”! (But that topic is a conversation for another day.)

As Don continued to lead his darling beauty further down the moon and star lit path, he would steal subtle kisses here and there: on the back of her hand, her soft perfumed shoulder, even the nape of her narrow neck with sensuously soft subtlety (smooth move). Dominick stealthily pinched his Mistress’s hard perky nipples. As, he stole a swift and sneaky squeeze of those robust breast, as they naughtily challenging his sense of gallantry and comportment.

Mistress Elle swore that she felt the pinch down into her stomach. The sensation sent her deeper into his arms and personal space, until the space was his no more. The iron magnolia within her took over the entire area for herself. The don was beyond elated. At certain intervals, the


inally, the don and his mistress reached the entrance of his enormous solarium. The lady stopped to look
him eye to eye. She said not a word at first, only raised the back of his large hand to stroke the side of her face with it softly. Next, she smoothly slid his huge hands across her breasts as Dominick gave them a slight pinch and squeezed. Elle was beyond elated by the soft gesture.

“Well?” she asked softly.

“Will you please lead the way?” Her eyes met the don’s primal and piercing glaze towards her.

“I have never been inside, Hun. You have only afforded me two prior opportunities to admire the greenery from the lover’s bench there to the side of the door.” Her soft gloved hand cupped the gentleman’s chin before she gave it a slight tug and tease.

Don was exhilarated by her glove’s silky and sensually stimulating softness. As his masculine member began its slow and steady standing ovation! The gentleman, really, couldn’t help himself. The spellbound and excited southern gentleman within Dominick smiled slightly, smirking with joy, at the same time.

“Well, we will just have to change that tonight, won’t we?” he said with his deep, proper, and wealthy Kentucky drawl.

That gentleman knew how to stroke her modesty, and he was relentless with it!
Suddenly, Don cupped her chin, kissed her softly on the lips, and swiftly scooped her off her feet. He opened the door and raced through it as if he were carrying his new bride over the threshold for the first time. That beautiful gown of hers softly draped itself over his hands, with calming warmth and primal instincts. Clearly, the don was too pleased, with himself. Utterly, unaware of just how temporary this feeling would be, for and too him. Fate was not playing. Once inside, he walked slowly towards the beautifully gilded gold and ivory chaise lounge where he cleverly placed her by the exotic indoor fishpond. The fish seemed to dance inside it, creating an enchanting world of absolute enchantment and wonderment.

He laid her on the lounge and centered the patient beauty comfortably in place. As she pulled herself together, Don sat beside her and began to slowly lock his fingers in her beautiful dark auburn and grey tresses. She, in turn, slowly stroked his curly black locks. Don and Elle glared at one another eye-to-eye again instead of kissing once more. The lovers exchanged coy little smirks, before attempting to bombard each other, with a million curiosities and inquiries. Pressing her gloved hand firmly and genteelly against his sexy black Armani Tux again…she began to make her inquiries.
“Dominick, Hun, what is it, darling, that you want from me?” His Mistress knew she had to ask the question or burst.

Her curiosity was getting the absolute best of her. Before he could respond, Mistress Elle hugged and kissed him, giving way to his obvious nervousness. Her intention was simply to calm him. It worked like a charm. A true southern bell would have done nothing less. His eyes were lit up: the likes of flickering candles, as he took in a long deep breath, knowing full well he

had better choose his words carefully. (He knew… he had to know… deep down!)
“I want you right here with me tonight, tomorrow night, and every night after that.” Seconds elapsed, but they might as well have been minutes! The look of a lost wounded child raced upon the Don’s face immediately. That was it! He knew, instinctively, that he had just fucked it all up, royally! It was as if the fires of hell began to flicker in Mistress Elle’s eyes. Of course, along with the painful dagger to her heart. What in the Sam hell was that boy and billionaire type thinking?!

Once Elle’s eyes were centered with the Don’s, he could see nothing short of rage and sparks flying from those beautiful sparkling diamonds. His knees nearly buckled under the weight of his faux pas! He’d really fucked-up royally with his dear Mistress Elle. His misstep was an utter and complete miscalculation on his behalf. He’d just treated her like a simple gold-digging bitch off the block. Instead, of the beautiful swan and southern belle that she truly had groomed herself rather sternly to be since her days as a debutante, of the Magnolia Chain. They don’t come more prestigious and seasoned than that, from many of the high-brow and highly acclaimed sororities and social clubs, from many an HBCU spread abundantly across the south- eastern corridor. What the hell! The seconds of silence that elapsed between the lovers was beyond defining! It would be the prelude to the F-5 hurricane barreling towards the dazed and confused Sicilian in the, now, half-mangled Armani Tux. That shit storm began swirling and tossing around at about 150 miles per hour. The iron magnolia was not fucking playing with Dominick, dapper don or no dapper don! Periodt!







Meet Authoress J. Z. Luciano





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