Corrupting Power
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Brewster's Brood - Part 20
🕑 Added 2022-07-27 23:55:28 +0000 UTCPart Twenty
Dana Weismann – 3/8/2017 – Thursday – 7:01 pm
She must have read the message from Brand Game Central at least four times before it finally sank in, confusing the living hell out of her. Mrs. Churchill was coming to see the Ironwood Estates? Dana wondered what the hell the woman thought she could get out of being on site that she couldn't get from the cameras. Maybe, Dana decided, it was a wellness check on Max's mental state of being, making sure that his mind wasn't entirely blown by the endless rush of women constantly throwing themselves at him.
The collection of women showing up right at the 7 pm window opening was a little terrifying. Dana had made it clear in her notes sent out to all the girls in the game that they should try and pace themselves a little, and that they should be trying to take their shots with Max when they were at their most fertile, and not just cluttering the field. They were just getting to the fourth group now, which meant they weren't even halfway into the available selection of women Max had vying for his attention.
If there was one saving grace to the number of women showing up all at once, it was that a number of them had brought additional men with them, although a couple of them seemed like they were going to be interested in each other instead of the girls. That was just fine, and Dana just hoped that Max wouldn't find gay sexual activity happening near him to be a mood killer. If it was, she'd simply encourage the gay and bisexual men to take their man-on-man action to one of the bedrooms or, at the very least, out of Max's eyeline.
When Dana opened the door, there were five women already standing there, with four men in tow. The fashion designer from France, Delphine Trudeau, was the first there, and had two gay men with her who were already in the process of making out when Esme checked them in and got them handed their medallions. Delphine was pale and elegant, with hair the color of pine wood done up in an elaborate bun. She was wearing her own custom attire, naturally, and had sunglasses on larger than any Dana had ever seen before, like two small tea saucers strapped over her eyes. “Don't worry, Dana,” Delphine purred at her in a sexy little minxish voice. “I won't be making a play today. I simply want to take in the ambiance and let him get a sight of me.”
Behind them was Sunshine White, who couldn't have been a bigger contrast from Delphine if she was trying. Sunshine had on giant denim overall suspenders and what looked like a cherry red Nike sports bra on underneath. She also had on steel toed workboots that looked like they're done more their share of ass kicking over the years. Her hair was a riotous explosion of blonde ringlet curls, kept out of her face by a hairband that was clearly working overtime. Because her arms were completely exposed, Dana could see not only how muscular and ripped the woman was, but also that she had two full sleeve tattoos, one covered in cherubs and angels and other angelic symbolism, while the other was covered in devils and hellfire and other demonic symbolism. The two sleeves culminated with a large figure on each shoulder, an angel on one and a devil on the other, bringing the metaphor to ink.
Of course, Sunshine had been by Ironwood a couple of times already, as she was the one who had made all the Ironwood Estate keychains, which were used as sort of the badge of admission. She'd rushed the first batch, but now had brought with her a box containing two hundred more, plenty to cover not only all the women of the Brand Game, but also cover what kind of men and women might also be brought in as cover and camouflage. Dana had found the woman to be the most straightforward person she'd ever met, and had wondered if it that was going to be a problem for her when it came to getting Max's attention. She seemed so direct that Dana almost wondered if she'd just go up to Max, club him over the head and drag him off to a bedroom, but whatever worked worked, she supposed.
“How's it looking, Dana?” Sunshine said, as Esme continued to check people in and hand out keychains, as well as collecting people's phones and keys, handing out coat check tags for them. “Been keepin' him busy?”
“Well, he's back making orders again, and the idea of having the food truck here and doing mass deliveries seems to be working out pretty well. Frankie told me that they were pulling down at least twice what they normally did, and that made Max feel at ease about keeping the truck up here one day a week for the foreseeable future. Max was apparently thinking about asking if he could maybe let the truck be here on Tuesdays and Wednesdays as well, but there's no real benefit for us having it here if Max isn't with the truck, and it certainly costs us more than I'd like, because we'd have to keep putting on the show for the Hernandez brothers, neither of whom any woman here wants to get a turn with, no offense to them.”
“And Max doesn't want to keep the truck here any other days?”
“I'm trying to convince him that Mondays and Fridays here would also be great, but he's less convinced. The Monday morning rush is a tradition he doesn't want to let go of – too many regulars he said he'd be disappointing, and the same's true for the Friday night shift, especially since he keeps the truck open so late Fridays and Saturdays,” Dana sighed. “I hadn't realized the Hernandez brothers also run the truck on Friday and Saturday mornings and lunches, because Max and Frankie run the evening shift way late into the night. Why can't he keep normal 9-to-5 hours like 80% of the workforce?”
Sunshine laughed, shaking her head, giving Dana a light punch in the shoulder. “Where's the fun in that? Some of us refuse to conform to whatever bullshit the patriarchy is throwing our way, so the hell with regular hours, the hell with schedules and rules and the hell with 'normal,' whatever the fuck that word's supposed to mean anyway.”
“Well, we can't all head off to Burning Man for a week without any repercussions, my dear,” Dana told her. “I'm sure you've got your own share of horror stories, though.”
“Sure sure,” Sunshine agreed. “I doubt you've ever had your office raided by thieves looking to score copper they could sell for scrap to turn into drug money.”
“Can't say that I have. Anyway, you know the rules about bothering Max while he's working – only do it if you're going to help out, but try not to crowd the man.”
“Got it got it got it,” Sunshine replied before heading off into the house, clearly going to steer clear of the truck for a while.
It seemed like new arrivals were in one of two camps – either they were eager to make their first impression on Max and wanted to get as close to him as possible or they wanted to touch base with as many other women who'd been on the scene for longer, eager to get some bit of information that might give them a leg up.
Dana thought the whole thing was rather silly, really. All the women basically had the same chance, and with a hundred women presenting themselves for Max to fuck over the next three months, she would be surprised if he remembered even a third of them. By the time the first month was over, he was going to be exhausted, and there would still be two months to go.
Among the rest of the people who had shown up as soon as they were allowed were: Rose Whitcombe, the British footballer's daughter – short, brunette, fit, with a ice cold sense of humor; Aisha Janson, the black stand-up comedian from Oakland – tall, erudite, but also loud and raucous; and Tisha Brady, the war photographer from Jordan – also short, but scrappy, dressed in far more practical clothes than anyone else. Dana was glad to see she didn't have the camera with her, as fascinating a story as this would all be to capture. But that was what all the hidden cameras were for, though, Dana supposed.
Last, but certainly not lease, was Mrs. Churchill herself. Dressed in a slate gray suit, she looked ready to destroy any board meeting she found herself in. Dana had only seen her at the head of the auditorium before, but now that she was right here and in front of her, she felt even more intimidating. The woman's eyes were so faded blue that they might as well be gray. She offered Dana a hand to shake, smiling in a way that didn't put her at all at ease. “You've been around him almost as much as anyone else, Dana,” Mrs. Churchill said to her. “How do you think he's managing?”
“Whatever your man Danny said to him seems to have put him pretty much at ease, far more successfully than anything we tried, so thanks for that,” she replied. “Today's gone well. He's had appointments with three different women since he arrived here this morning, and while I know everyone's gearing for a shot at him tonight, he seems like he's been hinting at giving Jenny another go around. She's been one of the girls who's been helping him cook on and off today, although the first time she tried, Max gave her a polite scolding.”
Mrs. Churchill nodded and smiled. “I saw that, but did she really think going into a place with hot grease splashing everywhere dressed in a bikini was a good idea? Of course Max was going to tell her to put on more appropriate clothes, even if he did enjoy the view.”
“Jenny's making friends with some of the other girls, so it'll seem more natural for her to be sharing the encounter,” Dana told her. “She's a team player, but she also seems like she's definitely in it for herself as well, trying to make sure that she never slips too far from Max's mind. She's good. Definitely a frontrunner in the group of people making a long-term play.”
“You're not interested?”
Dana scoffed with a rakish smile, rolling her eyes. “I like my men like Kleenex – strong and disposable. He'll be an excellent sperm donor, and I'm not one to turn down free money, but I can't see myself being interested in sticking around with him after the game's done. That said, you need someone around to keep this place in check, and if a handful of us hadn't just put our feet down and given this some structure and some organization, everything would've gone off the rails days ago.”
“Fair enough,” Mrs. Churchill said. “He's still doing orders for people here in the house, in addition to all the delivery orders?”
“He is,” Dana said. “Why? Going to try his food?”
“Oh child, I've tried his food loads of times. It's always wonderful. But that's the best part about his food truck – there's always a new delight you've never had before, just waiting to become your new favorite thing. Max himself is that way too, I think. Always a new surprise just around the corner waiting for you.”
Jenny Westinghouse – 3/8/2017 – Thursday – 7:22 pm
Despite the fact that she'd been one of several women competing for Max's attention over the course of the day, Jenny felt she'd done pretty well, both for herself and for the team effort. The Travers sisters had made high profile entrances, and each had gotten a turn on the pogo stick that was Max's cock, but the evening was going to be a wild one. Jenny had a plan for making things easier on Max, and had talked to Dana about it late in the afternoon.
Instead of Max going home and meeting up with the truck in the afternoon, why not just let him spend a night in one of Ironwood's bedrooms, and have the Hernandez brothers bring the truck back to Ironwood? It meant they'd be maximizing Max Time, and Max wouldn't lose time in transit back and forth, especially since Ironwood was closer to Jack London Square, where they set up business on Friday and Saturday nights. Dana had even insisted they could have dinner catered in, so that Max wouldn't have to cook after his shift was up, but Max told her that he liked eating some of his own food each and every day, so he'd just cook something up for himself before the brothers showed up to take the truck away, sometimes a thing that was on the menu and sometimes trying to whip up something new and unexpected, that might eventually be introduced to the menu.
Whatever Dana had done to keep the orders coming, it was working, and just right up against the limit of what Max and Frankie could handle. The last thing Jenny wanted to see was him so exhausted that he wouldn't be willing to give any of the girls the time of day when he was done, but they also needed to make sure there was enough business that the current situation worked for keeping him satisfied with the level of business he was doing.
To keep up the impression of the kind of girl who was interested in him long term, but also invested in seeing him sow his wild oats, she needed to find someone to line up to join her tonight in their little play session. That meant it was time to put her tactical hat on.
It was too early to have a good bead on any of the new girls who had just rolled in, so they were all out. They could have a go at him late in the evening, after she'd had her second dose. Jenny wasn't sure why, but for some reason she felt like being the first person to get a second load from him would establish her in his mind. She had to admit, though, that she wasn't going to technically be the first person to get a second load from him.
Sneaky little Kelly had technically gotten three although only one was where it counted.
Jenny resolved that she was going to be first woman to double her odds, then, by getting another turn where it belonged. But she would need someone to go along with her, someone who could add some presence to the encounter but wouldn't dwarf over her own presence. That knocked the Travers sisters out. Oh sure, she'd be having an encounter with one of them sooner or later, because those two struck her as the sorts who were going to get a priming from Max every chance they could until they had a bun in the oven, but they'd already had a go today, and both had actually headed out for the evening to do other things.
'Eyes on the prize, girls,' Jenny thought to herself. 'Always eyes on the prize.'
So with the new girls out, that limited her to who was around and she knew. There was some temptation to bring Esme in with her, but she'd already had a go, and since she was ostensibly working at Ironwood, she would be around a lot, which meant she would have more than her fair share of turns at it. Dana was another option, but she'd told Jenny earlier in the day that it would still be three or four more days before it would be good odds, based on her cycle, and Dana struck Jenny as a woman who wouldn't want to waste an opportunity.
Kelly and Blake were both around, but she wasn't in the spirit for their youth right now, and she was a little worried they might upstage her. The two college students had both made it clear that neither of them wanted to stick around, but Jenny had gotten the impression that Kelly might have been reconsidering. It was a lot of money, more money than she could really even conceive of, and that was probably going to tempt a lot of people given enough time. Neither girl seemed to be all that eager to rush in for another go around as of yet, though. Kelly, in particular, felt confident she'd left a big enough impression on him already, and that given a moment's free time, he might come back and ask her for another romp, but Jenny wrote that off as typical youthful over confidence.
It was a little hard for her to think, if she was completely honest with herself, since just a few hours ago, she'd helped Max go at Gwen hard enough to make her limp a little afterwards, something Gwen had blissed out on as soon as Max went back to work. The entire encounter had left Jenny more than a little riled up herself, though. She knew that being around this much constant sex was going to have her horny in odd and unusual ways, and Gwen's style of sex certainly wasn't the kind of thing she wanted, but it had still left her itchy and eager for more.
Before midnight, Jenny was going to ensure Max was going to fuck her again.
But she found herself back at her original dilemma.
And then the answer walked right over to her.
Erika Lu sat down across the table, sliding her a bottle of Budweiser. “So, I understand you're the girl around here who knows how to get into Max's pants,” she said with a smile. Jenny ran through what she'd learned about the woman in her head quickly before she replied.
The Asian-American woman was just a tick above thirty, and had gone through a handful of careers that she'd been passably successful at before settling on the one she was doing now – songwriting for some of the biggest names in pop music. Before that, she'd been a model, an actress and a cheerleader for the LA Lakers. She was an indomitable bundle of energy and positive vibes the entire time, a smile practically permanently painted on her face. She'd been playing her guitar at a coffee shop's open mic night a couple of years ago when someone came in and offered to buy her song from her. They weren't interested in her performance of it, but felt like they had a client who would be able to transform it into something megalithic. In Erika's smartest move, she'd agreed to sell the song, but only when the contract included a tiny amount of dividends if the song did well.
It had been a Top Ten hit almost immediately upon release. It hadn't hurt that Simone Fox had been the client in question, and she was already incredibly well known.
Since that moment, Erika had quit her day job at The Gap and was now working as a session songwriter for a number of artists who were struggling to come up with new songs. Sometimes she'd show up by herself, sometimes with a producer or two. But every deal she agreed to had her accruing a portion of royalties from her work, and based on those royalties, she'd been able to keep her apartment in LA without any real trouble.
“I mean, I've gotten myself in without too much trouble,” Jenny said, picking up the beer, tilting it a little in thanks in the woman's direction. “And I intend to get myself in again real soon.”
“You've helped a handful of other girls cut through the noise and get themselves in front of him and in the middle of Max's attention,” Erika said. “That's what I want. What's it going to take?”
“Well, I'm going to get him as soon as he's done with his shift and have myself another go around, but if you're willing to be my wingwoman, I could offer second billing. You straight or flexible?”
Erika giggled, rolling her eyes. “Honey, I'm from LA. We're pretty much all bi girls down there. You're from up here?”
“Not originally, but I go both ways myself. So if you want to go in with me when I go in, I can promise you round two of the night. Keep in mind, he's already had three encounters today, so he may be a little light in the loads.”
“I think that's just a risk I gotta take at this point, sadly,” Erika sighed. “There's too many bitches in this damn game. I mean, I get that's the idea, but Jesus Fucking Christ, with so many girls here, it's gonna be impossible for the later girls to get noticed. I'm in the third group, and I already feel like I'm in danger of being left behind.”
“Think how the girls in Juliett Group must feel, nine days behind everyone else. Of course, they also get more time at the end than everyone else,” Jenny said before taking a draw off her beer. “That's going to be the weirdest part for me. Just disappearing on him for ten days right at the end of all this madness. I'm gonna have to have some really good story prepped for that, considering I won't even be allowed to talk to him during that time.”
“You seem pretty convinced you're going to be on his radar three months from now,” Erika said. “I dig the confidence, gurl, but you sure you can live up to that talk?”
“Only time will tell, but I like to think I've gotten this far by only writing checks that my butt can cash.”
“It is a nice butt,” Erika grinned.
“Why thank you, my dear. Yours is pretty fly yourself.”
“You've been for a ride – what do I need to know going into the situation?”
“Regardless of what you think to expect from Max, prepare to expect the unexpected. He's a bit of a people pleaser – maybe more than he should be – but he'll grow out of that by the end of this,” Jenny told her. “Don't be afraid to ask for what you want, but don't be too demanding about it, or you'll put him off.
“Sounded like he gave it to Gwen pretty good earlier,” Erika said, a touch of eagerness in the tone of her voice.
“Well, that was what Gwen wanted him to do, so he did.”
“That what you want? A rough ride?”
Jenny snorted, shaking her head. “Hell no. I'm much more a flowers and romance kinda girl. If it were up to me, I'd make him lie down in bed and sleep it off with his arms wrapped around me until dawn, but if he wants to go again after we're done with him, I'm not going to be the one to tell him no.”
“He's not going to be able to get it up again after we're done with him,” Erika giggled. “I intend to make sure he's fucked out and unable to stand until morning, and you're gonna help me get him that way.”
“I'm going to help you?” Jenny laughed. “I think you've got it backwards.”
“You can tell yourself that if you like, but I intend to make sure he remembers me too.”
“Well then, game on, sister,” Jenny told her, clinking her beer bottle against Erika's. “Game on.”
Max Brewster – 3/8/2017 – Thursday – 9:41 pm
Max had been torn on whether or not to push past his normal 9 pm end time – Dana had told him that if he wanted to, she could keep the orders coming in later, but also cautioned him that he shouldn't overtax himself. That was enough for Max to decide that he didn't want to overdo it, and so he'd told the brothers to come up pick up the truck from Ironwood, and that it would be the new pick up location every Thursday night.
The place was a great deal more populated that day that it had been before, something Max was chalking up to the weekend coming. He was sure he'd know over time, but he suspected Ironwood's popularity was like any other weekend business, and that by Saturday or Sunday, the place would swarming with people.
It had been a good day, no, a great day – loads of business, and what was even a better sign was that the dinner orders had included loadsof tips, along with notes saying they were twice as big as normal because they hadn't realized how good the food would be otherwise they would've also tipped for lunch. That had never happened before, and when they were closing up shop for the day, Max wasn't even sure what to do with the excess cash, because there was a lot of it. But he figured he'd be fine since he wasn't even sure he was going to be leaving Ironwood until tomorrow anyway.
They'd made a great point of how he was welcome to just crash there for the night, and the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of not having to drive home and back. The one downside of the Ironwood deal was that it was a bit of a drive to and from his apartment to Ironwood. Not mercilessly long, but still like half an hour or so, mostly in hilly roads.
But now that Frankie had been given access to Ironwood, he absolutely didn't want to leave, and Max couldn't blame the man, as there were simply too many pretty faces wandering around for him to want to leave. While Max was starting to numb from all the attention a little, Frankie, on the other hand, was wallowing in it.
The tall blonde college student with whom Max had had an encounter not too long ago – Blake he thought her name was – she was buttering Frankie up pretty good, settled on his lap, stroking her fingers through his fine black hair, nibbling on his ear. It was actually nice to see, because it meant that his friend was getting a slice of the heavy attention he'd been given nonstop since arriving.
Not that he wasn't getting his fair share.
As soon as he'd gotten done with his shower to get the smell of his cooking off of him, he'd walked out to find that Jenny had a place saved for him, an attractive Asian girl at the third place. The meal Max had made for himself was sitting there, along with a bottle of Fanta.
“I didn't realize we were having company otherwise I would've made her a meal as well,” Max said to Jenny as he moved to sit down. “You liked your chili, I take it?”
“You certainly don't skimp on the spice,” Jenny told him with a smile. “But yeah, it's pretty damn great, no matter how many times I've had it. Max, this is Erika. She's up from LA, and I figured she could join us tonight.”
“Join us?” Max arched an eyebrow. “For dinner or...”
“For whatever you two are getting up to after dinner, I hoped,” Erika said to him, her pearly whites blasting him with a grin from ear to ear. “Sounds like damn near every woman in this place has gotten a turn at you but me.”
“Well, that'snot true,” Max laughed. “I mean, there's loads of women here I haven't fucked.”
“Yet,” Jenny teased. “You've only been a member a couple of days.”
Over the course of dinner, a handful of women came over and introduced themselves, but mostly they let Max, Jenny and Erika talk among themselves. Erika was a singer-songwriter who was up in Oakland working with a band on their second album, which had been going through some rough patches. Sophomore albums were always tricky she explained to them.
There was something infectious and uplifting about how positive Erika was, how confidently she talked about the missteps that occurred over the course of her career and how she'd just brushed them off, working to keep moving forward, ever forward.
Both women were constantly touching him, grabbing his hands or arms, squeezing them, but they were also flirting with each other, something that surprised Max a little bit. He even watched Erika lick some salt off of Jenny's neck to go with a short of tequila.
Ten minutes later, they had moved from the lounge area to one of the upstairs bedrooms, and the three of them were barely into the room before they were peeling clothes off as quickly as they could, each of them kissing the other two in between yanking things off.
Erika was in great shape, with breasts that were utterly to die for, full and lush. It was easy to believe the girl had been a model – it was harder to believe that she had stopped. She nearly shoved Max back onto the bed as Jenny stripped off the last of her clothes next to her, the two women standing side by side, tall and ginger next to tan and brunette, but neither woman less than stunning. “After you, Jenny,” Erika teased. “Age before beauty.”
“But my dear, I've got both,” Jenny laughed, slowly climbing on top of Max, leaning forward to kiss him. “Hello again,” she said with a wink to him. “I've got you right where I want you. Once again.” But since Jenny had been on top of him last time they'd been together, he decided she needed a change of pace, and rolled over, putting her on her back as she giggled, while he started to shift. “Okay, maybe naaaaaahhhhhh–”
The word had died as he'd slid his cock inside of her snatch, finding her already more than a little wet, pushing deep within her cunt on that first push, her body clinging around him as it was his turn to grin down at her.
“Now, I've got you right where I want you,” he teased back, kissing her for a moment, in a meeting of lips that was starting to feel more than just sexual. “Where do we fit her in this?”
“Oh, I'm sure we can find a place for her,” Jenny said, curling a finger over at Erika, who crawled up onto the bed.
“Where do you want me?”
“And tell me that you love me,” Jenny sung quietly, as Erika giggled then nodded, moving to slide one of her thighs over the side of Jenny's head, sitting on the woman's face, as Jenny's tongue snaked out and dragged across Erika's slit, the Asian woman giving a throaty moan, leaning forward a little, placing her hands on Max's shoulders to brace.
“Fuck, she's good at that,” Erika purred at him. “Women know how to eat pussy better than almost any man.” She kissed him, her tongue working its way into his mouth, as Max reached down to feel one of Erika's nipples, feeling just how ridiculously hard it was to his touch. “But you're pretty good yourself. Firm but not rough. Just I fucking like it.”
Jenny's legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to thrust his cock harder and harder into her velvety hole, her heels digging in as he tried to keep from losing his cool. Erika's lips pressed against his, her hands on his shoulders, as he felt Jenny clenching around him. He was only human and faster than he would've liked, he felt his body tense up, just as Erika began to squeal into his mouth, the three of them all sharing one big orgasm together.
“God, I love this fucking club,” Erika purred.
Comments
Robots101
". Just I fucking like it.” The word 'how' would fit well between 'just' and 'I'
Ronan
Love the Monty Python reference.
