Corrupting Power
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Brewster's Brood - Part 24
🕑 Added 2022-12-02 02:12:23 +0000 UTCPart 24
Mrs. Churchill – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 12:13 pm
It was astonishing to Mrs. Churchill that she'd gotten an entire night's sleep undisturbed. The uninterrupted slumber must have been a personal miracle owed to her by a divine supreme being, She'd gone to bed a little after midnight and had slept until nearly nine in the morning, getting more than eight hours of sleep. That amount of rest had helped her relax a bit, because so far, despite a few minor stumbles here and there, the gag was multiple days into it and it hadn't spun apart yet.
The morning had been nice, and she'd checked in to make sure nothing had collapsed with her team, although she knew if anything had gone overly wobbly, they would've woken her, and to her delight, everything was running smoothly. So smoothly that when she'd gone into the main control room and nothing was amiss, she'd decided to take an early lunch.
Despite the fact that things were going well, she didn't feel comfortable going far. At some point she was going to have to veer out further than the hotel's restaurant, but she'd gotten to have some of Max's food yesterday, and that had been enough to fuel her for appetite for the time being. Maybe, she thought to herself, she could make a point of getting some of Max's food every other day, or at least two or three times a week.
The hotel's restaurant staff was starting to recognize her, though, and that was her bigger concern. One of the things people in her line of work needed to do was to be forgettable and not to stick around any location too long, but the scale of this gag meant there weren't really any other options. But she was going to have to make a special note to herself that she needed to get out of the hotel more, and that the rest of her staff would have to do so as well.
When she sat down to lunch, her phone rang, which she'd come to learn was never a good sign. This time, the irritation came from external forces rather than internal, but at the very least, they were familiar, and not entirely unexpected.
“Hello Deiter,” she said to the older German man on the other end. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“Very well done, Mrs. Churchill,” the voice replied. “I very nearly believed you meant that. I'm calling to see how things are coming along with my Adette.”
“They're coming along just fine,” Mrs. Churchill answered. “Almost surprisingly so, Deiter.”
“What, you expected some form of disruption or sabotage?”
“I'm not sure what I expected from you, Deiter Schwartz, but Adette definitely isn't it,” Mrs. Churchill confessed. “She's smart, well-educated, but she's also grounded and humble. I am surprised your bloodline didn't run into the same deep dark places that spawned you.”
“My dear Mrs. Churchill,” Deiter said to her. “You make me sound like I'm some sort of heartless merciless tyrant.”
Mrs. Churchill waited a truly poignant amount of time before she finally responded to his point. “And?”
That caused the wizened old German to laugh hard enough that it devolved into a cough, and even longer for him to bring it back down again. “That is fair, that is most fair indeed. But yes, I think you will find Adette has fallen a good distance from the tree that has spawned her. She's not at all cutthroat or ruthless. In fact, she's warmhearted, compassionate and more or less the most soft member of my entire bloodline. But she wants to raise a child without the distraction of a father, or, rather, she isn't interested in someone looking to marry her for simply her money.”
“There are other ways of going about that, Deiter.”
“I'm well-aware of that, Mrs. Churchill, but after I explained the game to her, I convinced her to come around to the concept of having a father still in her financial league, and someone who would be at least vaguely around for the child's raising if she needed the help.”
Mrs. Churchill scowled. “That very much goes against the spirit of the whole thing, Deiter.” A waitress had come over to her, and Mrs. Churchill had simply lifted the menu up and tapped things, mouthing “so sorry” to the waitress, but the woman took it like a professional, and showed Mrs. Churchill what she'd written down on her pad so that she could confirm her order.
“Not at all, my dear,” the voice on the other side of the line said to her. “If Max doesn't want anything to do with Adette's child during the raising, he won't have to. He'll see the child from time to time, and it will be easier to keep tabs on his or her progress, but he can do that without giving the child any insight into who he is and what his relationship is to him or her.”
“And Adette understands that risk? You've explained that to her?”
“I have, but shouldn't you know that?”
Mrs. Churchill sighed. “I try to keep a level of distance between myself and the contestants, so the review team handles everything for me, and I simply review their work. But I kept looking to find what sort of ticking timebomb you'd tried to push upon me, and so far, if there's something that'll come back and bite me in the ass, you've hidden it well. Or she has.”
“Adette is, I assure you, exactly what she seems to be, and you needn't worry,” Deiter assured her. “She's only going to play in the spirit of the game that your dear Mr. Brand intended. My call was simply to ensure that there wasn't something about Adette that I didn't know.”
“My heavens, Deiter,” Mrs. Churchill chuckled. “Is that even possible?”
“I know how I like to come across as all-knowing and in the loop about everything all of the time, Mrs. Churchill,” Deiter sighed, “but I can assure you, I am just as fallible as the next man.”
“Don't be the next man,” Mrs. Churchill replied. “I've met the next man and he isn't truly all that kind, when all is said and done.”
“Then I'll be nothing like him other than I'm human.”
“You don't know that the next man isn't human.”
“Are you spending time fraternizing with aliens, Mrs. Churchill?”
She laughed a little bit. “Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. Is your curiosity satiated?”
“It'll have to be, I suppose.”
“Can I offer you one piece of advice, Deiter?”
“I wouldn't dare try and stop you, my dear.”
“Once your grand-daughter is in the game, make a point not to watch her being intimate with Max. I know the temptation will be strong to keep tabs on her, to be protective and to try and make sure that she and Max are getting along well, but it will only eat away at you. Trust in the process, and if you don't trust in the process, trust in me instead, alright?”
“I'll do that, Mrs. Churchill,” Deiter said. “I think the idea of watching my grand-daughter getting sexual with your young man would be rather unappealing as well. I can think of better ways to spend my time than... what do the kids call it? 'Perving' is it?”
“Indeed. I can even make sure that the daily update we send you doesn't include any of the footage between her and Max.”
“I would appreciate that, Mrs. Churchill. Was I interrupting anything?”
“My lunch is just now being delivered, Deiter, so this is where I wish you goodbye.”
“Goodbye for now, Mrs. Churchill,” the old German said to her. “We'll speak again soon enough, I am more than certain.”
She was confident he was correct about that.
Lisseth Rodriguez – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 1:47 pm
Lisseth had been having a bit of second thoughts about this whole thing since she'd seen Max and Sunshine going at it in the center of pretty much everyone, right out on the patio, but it turned out she got affirmations from an unexpected source – one of the other men hanging around the pool.
She'd talked to the man before – his name was Danny, and he was in charge of security for the game, so he'd told her repeatedly that she would be under his protection while she was here, and that her ex-husband would be kept away from the proceedings – but she hadn't thought he would've been so insightful when it came to the game itself.
“I know it's a bit mad,” Danny said to her as they watched Max and Sunshine head into the building to get a shower, “but you just sort of have to learn to roll with it. The whole thing is about fun and learning to cut loose and just throwing yourself into the madness. I mean, have you watched any of the footage?”
“I have,” she told him. “But I don't even know what to make of any of that. It looks like he's completely overwhelmed with people trying to get his attention.”
“He is, but he's learned to just roll with it. I think if he stopped and thought about it for too long, the whole chaos of it all might be too much. But you'll do fine. Just get his attention, have a good time with him and say you're looking for a bit of fun. That's generally all it takes.”
“I'm still just constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting Bill to show up,” she sighed. “No matter what I did to get clear of him, he always just kept on finding me.”
“You're hundreds of miles away, Lisseth,” Danny told her comfortably. “You just need to not think about him, because he's not going to be a problem.”
“And if he is? If he shows up and tries to drag me out?”
“Then he's in for the shock of his life, because best case scenario for him, I only break his wrist and one of his legs.”
She couldn't help it and smiled a little bit. “You say that, but you don't know what he's capable of. He's a police officer.”
“And I, Miss Rodriguez, am ex-Special Forces with a confirmed kill count approaching triple digits,” Danny said to her with the sort of casualness one had discussing their lawn. “I am not concerned about your ex-husband in the slightest. In fact, if he does show up, I will take very special care in making sure I inflict as much pain upon him as possible before I remove him from the equation permanently, unless he agrees to leave you alone forever.”
“You're funny, Mister Garney,” she laughed. “I know you mean well, but I sincerely doubt you're going to kill a man just because I told you that he's been beating me.”
“Miss Rodriguez,” Danny sighed. “The only thing that's important is that you believe me when I tell you that if your ex-husband shows up here, it will be the single greatest regret of his entire life, and that I will have the problem completely handled for you. It is extremely unlikely you will see or hear of his presence, and, in fact, it's entirely possible he's already been here and been dealt with, and that I'm being intentionally evasive in order to maintain plausible deniability.”
“You can't mean that,” she smiled.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, ma'am,” he chuckled. “All I'm saying is that you should have yourself a good time and there's no reason not to make a go at Max. Don't worry about all the other stuff, because none of it matters for a hill of beans. I've got your six, copy?”
“Alright then, Mr. Garney,” she said shyly. “I'll trust in what you're saying and make a go at him. Because I know that you have my eight.”
“Six, but you get the point.”
“Ha ha. Yes indeed. Now I just need to wait for him to come back down.”
“Looks like your time to shine is now,” Danny said, gesturing towards the stairwell, where Max was coming down the stairs by himself, this time having not bothered with much, just putting on a robe, his hair still a little damp. He didn't have Sunshine with him, so Lisseth assumed she was still upstairs tending to her hair.
In what seemed a refreshing change of pace, nobody swarmed him as soon as he walked down the stairs, letting him have a leisurely pace across the room before heading over towards the bar, the woman behind the bar – Lisseth couldn't remember the girl working the counter's name, because there were simply too many people around to be expected to keep track of all their names – was pouring him a drink, although it looked like she was going light on the alcohol and high on the juice.
Lisseth had used a similar tactic on her ex-husband during the darkest parts of their marriage, although she'd typically turned the alcohol content up, and as high as she could, so he would be blackout drunk within minutes, rather than go for the slow burn that inevitably involved her getting hit. If she could push him into the oblivion of sleep, she could escape a night's worth of pain and abuse. Eventually, however, he'd caught on and started mixing his own drinks, and eventually she'd had to flee as far as she could. She'd tried lots of times, but it had never taken, until Danny had finally come to rescue her, as part of the Brand Game, and she'd disappeared like a ghost into the machine.
She hoped like hell he was right.
With a sharp inhale of breath, she summoned up her courage and rose to her feet, starting to walk over in his direction. She liked to think of herself as a good-looking woman, which was part of the reason her ex-husband had gotten away with so much shit – because he liked to push the narrative that she was always getting men to do what she wanted, when really she was just trying to stay one step ahead of the next disaster.
She'd been watching Max for a bit, and while he wasn't necessarily what she would call 'her type,' he'd been very jovial and conversational to everyone who'd approached him, and she assumed that wouldn't change with her. She moved closer to stand next to him, her hand resting on his forearm. “You look a bit exhausted, if you don't mind me saying so,” she laughed at him.
“Let's just say this is all a lot to take in, and I don't want to be ungrateful, but it's hard to keep a clear head when you're constantly swarmed by people who want to have sex with you,” Max replied with a smile. “You were looking for a turn on the ride, weren't you?”
She smiled and gave him a shy little shrug. “I was going to offer to give you a long slow massage in exchange for it, a chance to work out some of the stiffness in those muscles, to maybe make it seem a little less like I'm just someone else trying to give the new guy a run for his money.”
“Oh man, I would kill for a massage, so I'm game if you are, although I might just fall asleep during it. If so, you can just have your way with me, or wait until I get up or whatever I suppose. I'm Max, by the way,” he said, extending a hand for her to shake, which she did. “You probably already knew that, though, considering how gossip seems to travel around this place.”
“I've heard your name bandied about plenty, Mr. Brewster, yes,” she admitted. “I'm Lisseth Rodriguez. I'm not really a local – I'm just visiting some friends in town for a few months, but I thought I might check out the local chapter of Ironwood. Shall we go have ourselves a time in one of the private rooms?”
He nodded. “Sure, there's a massage table in one of the first-floor bedrooms, I think. Let's go there.” They headed into the building and Lisseth was pleased to see a lot of people cutting her some slack, keeping their distance from her. She'd worried they were going to want to crowd her and make her share, but that was the furthest thing from her mind. She needed him all to herself. The idea of having to have sex with a strange man with other people watching would just be too much for her to take.
The bedroom had a single long table at waist height stretched out alongside the bed, and Max moved to crawl on top of it, shedding the robe, revealing that he hadn't bothered putting anything on underneath it.
“I have to say, Mr. Brewster, your work certainly keeps you slender and fit,” she said as she started to drizzle massage oil along his back. “Although you're certainly a bit hairier than I imagined. I could shave your shoulders and back if you like.”
“Nah,” Max replied. “That's not me, and I'd have to maintain it, which is more work than I'd like to be doing on a regular basis. But I appreciate the offer. The hair won't be a problem for the massage, will it? Because if it is, I understand and you can just skip–”
“It won't be a problem, Mr. Brewster–”
“Max.”
“Max. It won't be a problem, Max, so just relax and get comfortable.” Her fingertips started sliding across the back of his shoulders, smearing the oil into the skin, feeling him relax a little into her touch. It was genuinely funny thinking about how many women had had their hands all over Max in just the last few days alone, and yet he seemed more than willing to lean into her touch, to let her work his skin and muscle, forcing them all to decompress and unwind.
For the next several minutes, she worked on his back, grinding out knots from several of his muscles before working her way down to his thighs, a soft moan of satisfaction escaping his lips. “God, you're really good at this,” he confessed to her. “This your day job?”
“No no,” she replied, “just a hobby, but I like to make sure I get good at any hobby I'm enjoying, so I'd like to think that's helped me get better. Flip over.”
When he rolled onto his back, his cock was already starting to swell, although it wasn't at full staff, so she made a point to continue with the massage first, digging her thumbs into his calves then his thighs before sliding her hands against his hips and up towards his chest. He was so gentle and trusting, so unlike her ex-husband who had always been so demanding about everything. He wasn't pressuring her and she'd worried that maybe with all the women flinging themselves at him, he'd get to the point where he was sort of expecting it, but the way he was treating her, it was almost as if he wanted to be sure she didn't want to back out or change her mind. While it was quite kind of him to do that, the last thing she wanted him to think was that she was disinterested.
Her fingertips moved to close around his cock and began to slowly stroke it, nothing fast or rushed, just a deliberate pacing that let her touch gently stir him back to life, even as he smiled, his eyes still mostly closed. “If you don't want to go any further, you don't have to, but if you're looking for more, you don't have to linger there too long if you want to just move into a slightly more aggressive mode and approach.”
“I hate to break your calm, Max, but I have to admit, in just looking at this monster you're sporting, I understand why all the girls are abuzz about you. May I?”
“Of course, Lisseth.”
She slipped her hands off him and stripped down until she was nude, pausing only to put her hair up into a tied up bun, held in place by a clip, so it wouldn't fall in her face, before she slowly moved to climb up onto the table with him. It wasn't completely steady, clearly not designed for two people, but that made it a little bit more fun. She had shaven her vagina clean, as well as her legs, making sure she gave the best first impression to Max when he saw her naked, but he was being polite and keeping his eyes closed until she reached forward and teased a fingertip along the underside of his chin. “It's impolite not to look at a naked woman on top of you, you know.”
“I wasn't sure you wanted me to look,” he said, opening his eyes. “But you're calling the shots.” He leaned up and kissed her, something she hadn't really expected him to do, but it was nice, and she kept her lips against his as her hips slowly lowered herself down onto his cock, a warm tingle rolling through her belly when she finally felt him inside of her, a tender sensation instead of the callous roughness she'd always had to deal with when it came to Bill.
“Every woman loves to be looked at with lust in a man's eyes, as long as he's respectful about it,” she told him in between mixed kisses, feeling his shaft fill her up. “Let's not talk. Let's just enjoy this moment.”
He nodded in reply, and his hands finally dared to reach and slide along her hips. She had to do everything in her power not to flinch – not because of Max, but because of the reminders of Bill doing so. His tumultuous memory would live long in her mind, probably far longer than he would himself. But when Max's hand reached up to paw at one of her breasts, the comparison of his touch to Bill's was so entirely different that she felt the memory of Bill fading away, all of it letting her get caught up in the moment.
She was setting the pace, but it was one that Max was doing his best to match her with, rocking against her, pushing up to slip his cock as deep inside of her as they could get him together, his moans and hers sort of mingling together. One of his hands moved to intertwine his fingers with hers, something that made her smile from ear to ear, a generous gesture that he didn't have to do, but that had made all of this feel less anonymous.
Her breathing started escalating much faster than she'd expected, the tenderness of it all stimulating her nerves much better than she had anticipated, as she bit her bottom lip, giving him a soft glance, hoping he was enjoying as much as she was. Her own body surprised her as the orgasm was on top of her before she knew it, her head leaning back to look up at the ceiling as the rush of euphoria flooded her body, and once she was about to start cresting, she felt his body surge and his cum start to spew inside of her, warming her belly like molten lava lining her inner walls, prolonging that orgasmic sensation even longer before she eventually fell forward, pressing her body against his chest as she giggled a little bit, keeping her face turned from his so he couldn't see the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, not tears of sadness, but tears of joy, happy to find that she wasn't so numb to the world that she couldn't enjoy a good old fashioned fuck when she could get one.
It was almost like coming alive again...
Comments
Ronan
It would be easy to criticize the frequency of women switching from 'just getting pregnant' to 'may long term' until we remember that for a woman to get into the former mindset, she must have had several bad experiences,or saw/heard of many bad experiences. A few hours with a guy that didn't match the preconceived notion would spur a rethink.
Old Dragon
Wonderful, as in Lisseth is full of the wonder of it all.
