Brewster's Brood - Part 22 (Patreon)

Part 22

Mrs. Churchill – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 12:37 am

She wasn't entirely surprised that Max had fallen asleep as quickly as he had, but it was still a bit of a relief that he'd drifted off as easily as he did, because it was important that the man got his rest. She'd politely warned the girls that waking him up too early was only going to result in him putting out less potent loads. They wanted him at his most virile and the only way to get that was going to be to let him have at least eight hours of sleep each night.

Looking at the camera feed of him in the center of the bed, surrounded by beautiful naked women, Mrs. Churchill wondered for half a moment if Max was going to get accustomed to this, to come to enjoy this feeling of constantly being surrounded by wanton and willing women. It wasn't as though he wasn't going to be feeling that on the other side of all of this – shit, if anything, he'd probably get it even more, when he was publicly one of the wealthiest human beings on the planet. But there was also some part of her that wondered if he was going to resent all the attention all the money would bring with it.

One thing she hadn't really thought too much in advance before the game started was how Max was going to handle all of this afterwards. Oh, sure, they'd gamed it out, done some planning and theory and research, and talked to professional including psychologists and therapists, done their due diligence to make sure his mental health was being taken care of along the way, but the end of it was going to be one of the biggest headfucks she'd ever been paid to lay down on someone, and that would bring with it a certain level of consequences that weren't to be trifled with.

It wouldn't be just the money, or just the fact that so many of these women were carrying his children – it would be the fact that all of them had lied to him, to his face, repeatedly, over and over again, to ensure they got what they wanted. It wasn't personal, but she was certain that Max would feel like it was personal. The person Max should direct all that anger at was the late Mr. Brand, but it was hard to put all your anger on a dead person, because they were gone, so it felt like the anger just kept coming back into you instead of dissipating, Mrs. Churchill knew all too well from first-hand experience.

Some of the girls were starting to lay down foundations now, Mrs. Churchill had seen, and that was going to be the start of all the complications that were going to run throughout the game. Because when it started, there was only one category of women – the contestants. Then it was separated into two categories – those that had gotten a load of cum from Max and those that hadn't. Now, there was a third division – those who wanted to stay with Max after the game was over, and those who didn't. It only seemed like a small handful of girls were starting to play for the longer term, but the wheels of imagination were starting to roll for many of the others, and a number of the girls that Mrs. Churchill had thought would definitely be one-and-done girls seemed to be turning their heads and changing their minds, planning to make a stab at getting not just into Max's pants, but his heart as well.

Right now, Mrs. Churchill figured the pool of women thinking about long-term possibilities with Max included: Jenny, Esme, Brooklynn, Zelda and maybe Ali and/or Erika, although at this point, Mrs. Churchill also thought poor little Kelly might be starting to consider the idea. The difference in their ages was probably a bridge too far, but Kelly also seemed like the kind of girl who if she wanted to fight for something could put up a pretty good struggle, and Kelly had been an exceptional team player when she certainly hadn't needed to, taking one in the mouth and one in the ass just to help deflect Max's suspicions about how high a risk he was running of knocking some of these women up. The fact that he'd barely even considered it for a moment was something that Mrs. Churchill was definitely pleased to see, because it made her life easier.

Speaking of getting eight hours of sleep in, Mrs. Churchill headed to her car and started heading back towards the hotel, although she was barely off the Ironwood Estates property when her phone began to ring. She glanced down at it and saw it was Danny calling her, so she tapped to send it to the car's hands free. “Hey Danny, shouldn't you be getting your eight hours of rest in? I'm just headed to the hotel myself.”

“Mrs. Churchill, you told me to call you if I got word from any of my local buddies about something strange going down, right? I don't know if this qualifies, but to me, it feels too strange to be a coincidence.”

“Danny, you actually sound a little shaken.”

“Well, boss, I'm hoping it's nothing, but I just got word from my weapons contact that Yancy's Nancies are in town, and apparently they've got some kind of gag going on, although Cole couldn't get them to admit much more than that.”

“How many of them?” Mrs. Churchill said with a sigh. “Tell me they didn't bring the entire goddamned regimen with them.”

“No no, Cole said they were only gearing up for a five-or-six-person unit, and nothing too scary in terms of weaponry, but it was still enough that they're doing some kind of operation in the Bay.”

“There's almost eight million people in the Bay Area, Danny,” Mrs. Churchill sighed. “What are the odds what they're here for has anything to do with us?”

“If you look at the math independent of our relative history compared to theirs, it's almost impossible they're here for us.”

“And if you take into account our history with them?”

Danny chuckled, and Mrs. Churchill was certain she could hear him shrugging on the other end of the telephone. “Call it fifty/fifty?”

“Fucking hell, Danny. Why does Bernard Yancy have it in for me so fucking bad?” she grumbled.

“You want the long list or the short one, boss?”

“I don't want any list, Danny.”

“I mean, shit, the Edinburgh job alone is probably enough to keep you on his shitlist for at least a few more years.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know the job was double booked?” she yelled before drawing in a deep breath. “I'm not mad at you, Danny. And I'm glad you told me in advance, because the last thing I want is for one of them to show up on my doorstep and me not to have any fucking warning that they're coming. Do you have any idea what they're up to?”

“All the weaponry they got was non-lethal, so that's definitely a plus,” Danny told her. “I mean, based on the descriptions Cole gave me, I'm pretty sure that Abby's on the team, and Abby never gets involved with the team on any of their loud gags, so whatever they're doing, they don't want to be seen too much doing it. I called Heather and told her to be on the look-out, just in case.”

“Abby, huh? Well, I guess I'm willing to chalk that up as a slight edge in our favor, considering she still owes me for Johannesburg. What's your gut tell you?”

“Honestly?” he said, considering for a moment. “I think they're here to remove one of the contestants, maybe even against her will. You know all the girls way better than I do, boss. Any of them you can think of have wealthy parents who might be opposed to them getting involved in this kind of thing, opposed enough to hire Yancy's crew to come and get her and drag her home?”

“Getting Yancy's Nancies to pull a girl out of our game is a bit like using a Howitzer to hunt quail. It feels like an insane amount of overkill for no reason I can see.”

“Maybe you could ask Yancy what they're here for?” he suggested.

“Maybe I could gain some sexual satisfaction by running a two-inch drill bit through my clitoris, but I don't think either of these things seem likely, do you?”

That at least got Danny to chuckle a little bit. “No ma'am.”

“Great,” she replied. “So let's not waste each other's time with any more stupid suggestions, shall we?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Do you feel like you and Abby are on good enough terms that if you run into each other, you'd be able to have a civil conversation about what she's doing here?”

“Well, I could try, but she's just as likely to tell me to fuck off as she is to give me an actual answer, boss, so maybe don't rely on me for this particular brand of intel, yeah?”

“I'm just saying, Danny, that if you run into her, you can talk to her a little bit, see if you can find some way to ensure her interests don't go counter to our own.”

“And if it turns out she and the team are here to yank one of our girls from the competition?”

Mrs. Churchill let out another long deep breath. “Then I guess it depends which girl it is, and whether she's worth the trouble. Mostly, I think we'd probably just let them take her, as long as it isn't going to blow our gag. If we're really lucky, it'll be before she actually enters the game.”

“Boss, when have we ever been that lucky?” Danny laughed.

“At some point, basic probability says the odds have to be in our favor at least once.”

“Yeah, you try holding onto your little logic, see how far it gets you, boss. Me, I'm just going to keep on expecting the worst and doing what I can to weather the storm.”

“Get back to sleep, Danny, otherwise there's no point in having Heather cover for you,” Mrs. Churchill told him.

“Sure sure, you just make sure that you're getting sleep as well, boss.”

“Good night, Danny Boy,” she said, hanging up on him. She was glad that he called even if it was purely speculation at this point. Getting surprised by Yancy's Nancies would've been more than a little unpleasant. Just their very presence was unsettling, but she felt at least a little better knowing in advance they might be coming.

She and Bernard Yancy didn't hate each other; they were just regularly on opposite sides of some conflict, and so they'd just gotten used to thinking of the other as an adversary, even though there was no real malice between her and the man. Professional accountability, sure there was loads of that on both sides, but there was nothing personal about any of it.

…She hoped, anyway. The last couple of beefs the two crews had gotten a bit more intense than their usual rivalry squabbles. Nothing fatal or even injury inducing, thank Christ, but certainly a bit more antagonistic than they were used to. None of the fun and camaraderie was there as it so often had been before. It felt like Yancy must've been a sore loser about some particular run in the two teams had had, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was.

As the car started to head down the hill, she tapped her phone to call Jacinda, the woman picking up after just one ring, although she sounded sleepy. “Shouldn't you be at the hotel, in bed and asleep by now, boss?” Jacinda asked her. “That's where I am. We put Max to bed half an hour ago. It should be all quiet on the western front until daybreak. I was just about to drift off but I assumed you weren't going to call with something that could wait until morning.”

“It probably could've waited, Jac, but I felt like it was best to tell you as soon as I knew. Danny just told me that a five-man team from Yancy's Nancies is in town.”

“Fuck. Fraiser?”

“Doesn't sound like it. Sounds like it's Abby's team.”

“Well, one bright spot in otherwise dark and dreadful news, I guess,” Jac said with a yawn. “Abby's team has a 100% no hats on the floor policy, and they've never broken that rule yet, so whatever they're doing isn't likely to bring a lot of unwanted heat our way. Can you imagine if they'd sent Fraiser?”

“I'd rather not. I still have trouble eating tapas, after the mess he left in Ibiza,” Mrs. Churchill responded. “No idea how they got that cleaned up without any word in the press or anybody on their team taking the fall for it, But I guess for all the horrible shit we can said about Mr. Fraiser, he is especially good at his job.”

“Did Danny have any idea where they're in town? It seems naive to think that them showing up when we're running a gag of this scale is a coincidence.”

“Danny thinks they might be coming to haul off one of the girls. Any odds-on favorite on who it might be?”

“Shit, boss, there's like a dozen or so with decent odds.”

“Any of them we would get particularly up in arms over?”

“I'd hate to see Grace go, but I can't imagine the government of Monaco getting so bent out of shape about it that they'd abduct her back. She's, like, seven or eight steps removed from the throne over there.”

“Six, but who's counting?” Mrs. Churchill added with a chortle.

“Clearly, you are, boss,” Jacinda responded. “But who the hell knows which of these girls' families would go to the lengths it would take to hire some of Yancy's people to get her back? I wouldn't have said any of them would have, but clearly I was wrong about that.”

“Well, we don't know for certain that's what they're here for.”

“Sure, I suppose they could be here to try and abduct Max himself.”

“That's not funny, Jac.”

“I wasn't laughing, boss.”

“Why the hell would they be after Max?”

“One of his rivals wants us to fail in getting him the inheritance?”

“But if we fail this time, we just go around again until we don't fail, Jac,” Mrs. Churchill pointed out. “All they'd be doing is slowing the process down some.”

“I was just spitballing for ideas, boss, while I'm half-awake. It's entirely possible I'm talking out of my ass.”

“Well, let's hope you're wrong on this one and that they're not after Max, because that would properly muck up all our plans.”

“I can make some calls in the morning, boss, if that's okay.”

“Yes, well, whatever they're here for, I doubt it's popping off tonight. Danny's already informed Heather, which is all the front line we have anyway,” Mrs. Churchill said as her car turned into the hotel parking lot. “I'm back at the hotel right now, so we can look into it tomorrow, but I thought I'd better at least let you know about it as soon as I did.”

“Glad that you did, boss. Now, goodnight.” And with that Jacinda hung up on her. Mrs. Churchill took it as a good sign that Jac felt comfortable enough to hang up on her at this point. When she'd first brought the girl on to the team, she was adamant about being dismissed when conversations were over. Now Jac held no special reverence for her, and was willing to end conversations when they needed to be ended.

Mrs. Churchill put her car in her designated parking spot and then headed into the building, hoping like hell it would truly stay a quiet night.

Heather Bickers – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 4:40 am

One thing Heather had to admit to herself, working the graveyard shift was incredibly peaceful. At some point, sure, Max would probably be up to some kind of very late night activity, but the last few days, the highlights reels had made it seem like the guy was getting too much sex for him to handle. She didn't have enough spare time to watch the majority of what she was missing when she was sleeping, but the highlights reels had been a godsend, letting her keep track of who he'd screwed, who was trying to screw him, who was trying to establish long term rapports with him and who just wanted their in and out before being gone.

But basically none of that action happened while she was keeping watch on Max and the house, because when she was keeping tabs on him, basically everyone was asleep. Oh sure, she might get a little bit of live nookie on the feed towards the tail end of her shift, because the girls liked to get a go in at him as early as they could, and her and Danny were on twelve-hour shifts each, but the majority of the good stuff happened during the tail end of Danny's watch, in the evening.

This morning, however, something was going on, as she heard the loud sound of an engine backfiring around the corner that startled her and put her on edge from her hidey hole in the hedges for one of the houses across the street.

It hadn't taken too much work to get a perfect little spot for her to disappear into, and so far, nobody had even given the nook so much as a second glance. Danny tended to just hang out on his motorcycle, or to head inside the club itself, but Heather felt like if she did that, there was a chance Max was going to hit on her, and that wasn't up for discussion.

The sound of the vehicle got closer, and after a few moments later, she could see it was the Hernandez brothers, riding in on Max's motorcycle, which she supposed made sense, with Carlos driving and Joey tucked into the bike's sidecar. It would give Max something to drive around if he needed, and it was usually used by whoever wasn't currently driving the truck. The two brothers checked the address then buzzed the door. There was an exchange that happened too fast for Heather to get the parabolic mic up before the gate opened and the brothers drove the bike onto the property. The gate closed behind them, but only a few minutes later, the gate opened back up again, and the two brothers drove the Constant Rotation food truck off the site, heading back down the hill, making their way towards Jack London Square, where they would set up shop for the morning.

While the Hernandez brothers had seemed like decent enough guys during their initial recon of Max and his assorted associates, Heather had always thought it odd how the brothers seemed to only work less stressful gigs. It wasn't as though they were bad cooks or bad employees, but they didn't necessarily have the deft touch that Max did when he was manning the grill, lacking that little bit of magic that Max seemed to bring with him wherever he went.

Heather made a note of the time in her logbook, so that she would be able to give Danny the rundown at their usual daily handoff. She didn't have a whole lot of notes that she would typically take each day, but they were still important for her to keep, mostly keeping track of the people coming and going from Ironwood Estates, so they had a good list of everyone who was in Max's immediate circle at any given moment.

When Max had gone to bed, most of the girls had gone back to their hotel rooms or apartments, trying to get just enough time sleeping so that they could get themselves primped up and make another go at him in the morning.

Originally, Heather had found the girls dedication to coming back the next morning a little ridiculous, but after Danny had pointed out that number of girls was escalating each and every day, so the challenge of getting noticed simply kept going up, and there was no reason to let that happen if they wanted it.

Of course, Heather pointed out, each woman was different and on a different cycle, so the optimal time for them to get pregnant may not arrive until several weeks after the game's start, but that was partly why she suspected they were being given 3 months, so that everyone would get multiple attempts at getting knocked up.

The whole game had struck her as ludicrous, but when she heard about the money involved, she felt like she could understand why some of these girls were going so hard after it. They wanted to have a kid, and they wanted a safety net to help them take care of that kid in lieu of having a partner to do it, although Danny had told her that a handful of the women involved actually had partners at home, and were simply using this as an opportunity to ease the burden of raising a kid.

After the Hernandez brothers left with the truck, it was quiet at Ironwood Estates for at least a couple more hours before a handful of the women started arriving once more, although Heather felt certain that they weren't going to get a glance of Max for at least a few more hours.

From her spot in the sniper's hidey hole, she did have access to the camera feeds inside of the manor, so she could look through and see what everyone was up to. Esme was attaching some lock to the outside of the server room, something that surprised Heather. Not that she was doing it, but that nobody had thought to do so on day one. Other than that, most of the cameras showed girls gossiping or primping, getting ready just in case Max woke up early. Nobody knew exactly what his schedule was going to be.

Thankfully, Max seemed to remain asleep until almost 10 am, and a number of the girls who'd been sharing his bed with him had crawled out to go shower and/or get ready before he woke up, leaving him with just Ali and Jenny, neither of whom it seemed wanted to be anywhere but beside him when he got up.

Jenny was the one Heather had put her money on in the pool, even though Danny had advised her to wait until all hundred players had had a chance to present themselves. She could always put down a second bet later, she figured, and getting a vote in early and solid felt like making a statement, and Jenny had seemed like she was going to put up a good fight, clearly vying for more than just Max's child in her belly.

It was the patience that Heather admired the most – while the younger girls like Rose and Kelly couldn't be bothered to make sure that he saw their faces or heard their voices first thing when he woke up. There was a subliminal power in that, Heather was certain, a certain level of comfort and familiarity of being with a partner when they gained consciousness first thing in the morning.

As Ali's hand reached down and started to stroke Max's morning wood, Heather chuckled a little bit, muttering to herself, “Wake up, Max. It's morning showtime.”

Max Brewster – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 09:56 am

“There's Mister Sleepyhead,” Ali's voice said next to him, as he felt long fingers, hers he assumed, wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his shaft. It was a nice sensation to wake up to, and a moment later he felt a second hand, a different hand, cradling his balls, gently letting them roll and shift in her fingertips. “It's aboot time you woke up. You can't sleep forever, Max.”

“I can damn well try,” he replied with a gentle laugh. “So far this week's been fucking exhausting, and it's only Friday morning. I've still got today, Saturday, Sunday and most of a Monday before I've been living a week in this lifestyle, and it's enough to exhaust even the strongest of men.”

“You had over ten hours of sleep, baby,” Jenny said to him, as he opened his eyes to see it was her hand on his nutsack. “That's more than plenty. Any longer than that, and the girls are going to think you're lazy.”

He rolled his eyes a little bit. “I can hear it now. 'Less sleeping, more fucking!' God, you're all fucking relentless.”

“With a cock like this, can you blame us?” He was about to answer her when Ali pushed her head down onto his dick, sliding her mouth down along the length of it with deliberate care and pacing, not diving down all the way at once, but almost showing off how she could apply a little patience when she wanted, her long blonde curls all over the place, mostly hiding her face from his view, at least until Jenny reached down and pulled them back for her. “She was hungry, Max, but I told her we weren't going to do a thing to you until you woke up.”

“And once I woke up?”

Ali popped her lips off his dick with a ravenous smile. “Then you were fair game until one of us got you off, eh,” she said, flashing him a wink with one of those faint blue eyes of hers. “So, she's graciously allowing me to do it, since she got a turn yesterday, and fair's only fair.”

“Oh, sure,” Max said, realizing there was some kind of logic going on that he couldn't argue with, so it was best to simply play along. “Fair's only fair.”

“Glad you see it our way,” Jenny purred into his ear, dragging her short fingernails down along his chest through his thatch of hair. “Ali's a big girl, so we decided it best if you just laid there, so you don't have to get a stepladder.”

“I'm not that tall, girl,” Ali said as she started to move up onto her knees, straddling his thighs, not yet getting into position, mostly enjoying rubbing her body against his, it seemed to Max.

“Bitch, you're over six foot without those giant ass heels you were wearing when you showed up yesterday,” Jenny said with a laugh. “You're always gonna have to bend down for Max to kiss you, unless you want him just burying his face in your tits instead.”

Ali giggled, holding her hand to her lips. “I mean, it's not the worst idea I've ever heard.”

“Don't I get a say in this?” Max asked.

“Do you want one?” Jenny replied.

“Maybe?”

“Maybe's not a yes, so no,” she teased, patting his cheek with her fingertips. “Now lay back and think of Quebec.”

Ali shook her head with a smile. “I'm from Saskatchewan, you dopey bitch. God, I hope everyone's right about you,” she said to Max as she grabbed his cock, shifting it just a little, then sliding her cunt down onto it with a sultry moan. Despite her stature, she had a surprisingly tight pussy, and it felt almost like a velvet glove wrapped around his shaft. “Oh crikey, that's a big dick you got there, mister...”

“Big girls need love too,” Jenny whispered at him as she nibbled on his ear. Her hand reached forward and up to cup one of Ali's large breasts, her thumb strumming the tall blonde's stiff pink nipple like a guitar string, flicking it up then down. “Don't let her control all the pace.”

Ali leaned forward to place both of her hands on his chest, which made her biceps press her tits together even more, practically shoving the large mounds into his face, the clear demarcation lines of tanned flesh and paler white dancing like shifting rivers in front of him. “Fuck you feel nice,” she said, as she started to buck her hips up and down against his pelvis, dropping into him, making his cock shove deep inside of her pussy with filthy loud flatulent noises that made Ali blush but certainly didn't get her to stop or slow down any. If anything, she seemed like she was trying to go faster, to outrace them or to make sure that they were constant, so that they would fade into the background.

“It's been too fucking long,” Ali moaned. “Too fucking long. God, you feel fucking nice... so fucking nice...”

Jenny shifted a little, reaching up to grab Ali's face and pulling her head over, pressing her lips against the blonde's. Ali squeaked a little in surprise but then groaned wantonly into it, her lips parting so the two could trade dances of tongues for a moment before pulling back.

“Guys... guys are always so intimidated by my height,” Ali whimpered quietly.

“Well, I don't think there's a damn thing that intimidates Max,” Jenny said with a giggle. “And he doesn't mind if you cum quick. Lots of us have with him.” As if to reinforce her point, her fingertips moved down and started to rub against Ali's clit, flicking it back and forth even while the tall blonde kept pumping herself up and down onto Max's cock. “In fact, I bet that when you cum, you're gonna clamp down tight on him, and it'll make him cum.”

Max wasn't far from popping off, and it seemed like Ali took that as a sign she should increase her tempo, bouncing up and down even faster until he could feel her body seize up like a car in a Canadian winter, tiny trembles of her snatch around his dick sending shivers up his spine, and the minute he felt Jenny's tongue dragging along the side of his neck, his body gave up the fight and he began to spew a few tossed off handfuls of spunk inside of Ali's cunt.

The three of them stayed frozen for a moment before Ali slumped forward with a wild giggle, and Jenny moved to snuggle in alongside him a bit.

“Worth the wait?” Jenny asked Ali.

“Oh ya,” the Canadian replied. “That was right nice. Damn right nice.” She paused for a second then grinned, snuggling against the other side of Max. “Some coffee and a box of TimBits'd be a great addition though.”

“No TimBits here,” Jenny laughed. “But after a shower, we can go down and get some coffee. How about you, Max? Enjoy your wakeup call?”

“I no longer understand my life,” Max replied with a quiet chuckle. “But I'm not complaining...”