Brewster's Brood - Pt. 43

Part Forty-three

Jacinda Acosta – 3/13/2017 – Tuesday – 6:55 pm

            “How the hell did we miss this, Jac?” Mrs. Churchill asked as they watched Max and Louisa seemingly catching up after what he’d said had been decades. Max was mostly doing all the talking, which meant they hadn’t really picked up how the two knew each other, other than it had been nearly decades since they’d seen each other. “I thought we screened everyone for any possible overlap in Max’s life and history.”

            “We did, boss,” Jacinda said, “and nobody jumped out, but I told you we should’ve included the question about knowing Max on the intake questionnaire.”

            “And I told you that if we did that, we’d be tipping our hand to anyone we rejected who was involved, so you didn’t do it.”

            “And look at where it’s gotten us,” Jacinda sighed. “I knew you should’ve asked if anyone knew him at the big briefing.”

            “Hopefully it won’t be too big of an advantage,” Mrs. Churchill said. “It’s not like she’s an ex-girlfriend of his. We’d have gotten that one for sure. She’s still under the same contract and NDA as everyone else, and she’s gotta know if she tips Max on to what we’re doing, we’re going to literally burn her life down to the ground. She might’ve just gotten in, realized she knew the guy and thought, ‘hey, maybe it’s a leg up.’ Any idea where their paths could’ve crossed?”

            “Two decades ago?” Dr. Williamson asked. “Max would’ve been working in one of the various restaurants he honed his craft in. Salt, The Two Step, Crayons, those are the likely Bay Area restaurants, but he was down in LA just as much as he was up here around then, and then he would’ve been working at Ballbusters, Crazy Larry’s, Stay Asleep or even Terry’s Fish Shack. Who the hell knows where it was?”

            “Anyone told Danny yet?”

            “Texting him and Liane now.”

            “Think he’s going to be pissed?”

            “He’s not going to be happy, that much is certain.”

            “It’s really not that bad.”

            “It’s a surprise,” Mrs. Churchill said, cutting off her bickering staff. “Danny doesn’t like surprises. Not this kind of surprise, anyway.”

            “He certainly looks cross on the screens,” Jacinda said, tapping the monitor in front of her with the tip of her pen.”

            “How can you tell?” Dr. Williamson asked. “He always looks like that.”

            “No, the furrowed brow, that’s definitely him in cross mode. But he’s still got control of the situation, it looks like, and Max doesn’t seem like he’s upset, so hopefully this’ll all work in our favor,” Mrs. Churchill said. “It’s just another monkey wrench thrown into the works that we couldn’t have seen coming.”

            “I just want a day where everything goes smoothly and cleanly,” Jacinda muttered as she started rifling through the woman’s back history, comparing it to Max’s. “Instead of these where we keep getting thrown for a loop.”

            “Well, you’re in the wrong damn business for that,” Mrs. Churchill said. “We’re in the business of dealing with crazy things all the time and figuring out how to manage them, so that’s what we do. If you wanted a boring, predictable day job, you should’ve gone into banking or something. This is what you signed up for, so get used to it. Now, I want a deep dive on this one, Louisa Maresca, and I want it five minutes ago, so as soon as humanly possible will have to do.”

            “Good lord, okay, I think I may have the connection, but it’s tenuous at best,” Jacinda said. “Max was working the breakfast counter at a place called Daybreak Huevos down in Los Angeles for about six months, sort of overlapping his time with Stay Asleep and Crazy Larry’s. That location was two blocks away from Philistine Dreams Studios, where it looks like Louisa was a summer intern for them for a couple of years. Maybe she made a habit of stopping by in the morning to get one of their breakfast sandwiches? Shit, she would’ve been sixteen at the time, so I’m amazed he can still recognize her. Seems like it would have to just be a casual passing thing – he was 22 back then, and Max doesn’t strike me as the kind who’d be into jailbait. Hell, the girls in their twenties have had to push harder than the women in their thirties and forties, so that should tell you something about the guy.”

            “Yeah, he’s not easily distracted by new, shiny things…” Mrs. Churchill said. “We had any feedback from the viewers? Things they do and don’t like?”

            “Marks have been up for the last couple of days since it seemed like Max decided to stop questioning things and just go whole hog at it. For day eight, they all seem surprised as many women have been able to get Max’s uh, deposits, as they can. He’s performing above expectations in basically every regard. What’s his count at? It’s like 25, isn’t it?”

            “Unless he snuck in an extra or so somewhere on the side,” Dr. Williamson said, “that’s my count as well. And three and a half times a day for a full week for a man in his early forties? That’s some definite stamina.”

              “You’re the one who told us he could keep up, Doctor.”

            “Yes, well, I’m not entirely sure I believed it myself, but it certainly looks like he’s doing his best to keep pace with what the ladies are asking of him,” she said, amusement bristling in her voice. “And that’s good for all of us, and good signs for our potential bonuses. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m hoping for the best for him, but I’m strictly in this for the money.”

            “I think that’s most of us, Doc,” Lynne said, sipping from her eighth or ninth cup of coffee for the day. “Maybe even boss lady herself.”

            “I’m doing it just for the thrill, Lynne,” Mrs. Churchill said. “If it wasn’t me, it would have to be someone else, and they’d be doing a worse job and asking for more money. So we’ll get it, get it done right and get it done under budget.”

            “The guy who’s paying for it all’s already dead, boss,” Jacinda laughed. “So if we come in a bit over budget, I think it’s okay.”

            “Never believe your own hype, Jac.”

Max Brewster – 3/13/2017 – Tuesday – 7:24 pm

            “I cannot believe you’re all grown up, Louisa,” Max said with a laugh, as the two of them sat poolside in the backyard of Ironwood. He was sipping from a pina colada he’d made himself, and maybe he’d gone a little stronger on the rum than he should’ve. “I remember you as a high school kid who was so excited she had summer work at Philistine Dreams Studios, getting to apprentice working on some of her favorite comic books, like ‘Paladin Palindromes’ and ‘Winterclaws.’ Did you go to work for them after you graduated high school?”

            “Hell no!” Louisa laughed. “I would’ve gone out of my fucking mind sticking around there after JT died of cancer. He was the main reason I wanted to work there, and just before I got out of high school, they gave him the diagnosis – stage 4 lung cancer. Didn’t even smoke, but blamed it on all the second-hand smoke he’d picked up working for Louis Marquez, as his assistant for like five years. I could believe it from the pictures I saw of Marquez’s office. They were all smoky and fogged up, and most of his pages had a slight yellow tint to them. But I had to get a note to skip a day of class to go to JT’s funeral and that day, I promised myself I wasn’t going to work for anyone in the business who I didn’t like. Opened up a studio down in San Diego, although really, it could be anywhere in the world if I wanted to, now that a lot of inking’s done digitally. I miss constantly working with ink, but I still get some people like Skip Summer or Lisa Xonita who still insist on actual ink on actual pencilled pages, and I get to do their stuff a lot.”

            She’d changed loads since Max had seen her last. Back when he’d known her, she’d been heading into her junior year of high school, and she’d just gotten her first tattoo, one of the Silver Surfer on her right bicep. Now, both of her arms and hands were completely covered in ink, some using what he assumed might be her own artwork, others of famous comic book characters or in famous comic book styles, at least, that was what he assumed. He wasn’t a big comic book reader, although he’d stumbled into comic book shops every now and again.

            “Work’s steady, I take it?”

            “Well, it’s not like it’s a high competition area,” she said with a slightly bitter grumble. “We all want to draw for ourselves, to have our own books out there and in the hands of an adoring public, but I think my style’s a bit too radical and crazy for most people to get into it, and so I do what pays the bills. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve taken a couple of swings at publishing my own books, but the market space isn’t really taking the truly out there people any more without a big name attached to it. We can’t all be Michael Gaydos, David Mack or Bill Sienkiewicz I guess, not anymore.”

            “So what are you doing up in the Bay Area? And how did you get tangled up in all of this? I would’ve figured you would’ve gotten married, had a kid or two in grade school by now.”

            “Got close,” she said, taking a sip from the Bloody Mary he’d made for her. There was a heavy tone of regret in her voice, but Max was almost afraid to find out why. He did anyway. “Got very very very close, but then, about a month before the wedding, I found him banging some Goth Topic girl in our apartment when he thought I was going to be out for the night. And that was the end of that, and the end of my trust in most men, I guess.”

            “Ouch.”

            “So I ended up joining Ironwood Estates because I still had needs, and I wanted to get fucked regularly, but I didn’t want to have to put up with giving some deadbeat dude half my shit in a decade’s time, y’know?”

            “I mean, I can get that,” Max said, “but you sort of dodged the part about what you’re doing up in the Bay Area.”

            “Oh, that,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m working with this local writer/artist who wanted someone to come up and ink all their pages for them, but they didn’t want them to be mailing them back and forth, so they’re actually paying for me to be up here for a few months to do the work – they’re paying for an AirBnB to stay at while I’m doing the job. They say it’s about three to four months work, so that’s what I’m here for. Guy has a lot of pages for this young adult series he’s launching, and I told him I could do it the traditional way at the pace of about 3 pages a day, or I could do it digitally at twice that speed. He said he wanted it done traditionally. I assume he’s hoping to sell the pages off after the project’s done to recoup some of what he spent on making it. And hell, he’s paying me enough that I don’t have to care about such things.”

            “And, what, you came by to this Ironwood to let off a little steam?”

            Lousia grinned, giving it a little shrug. “Well, each Ironwood has its own ‘local flavor’ that they’re known for, and it’s good to see what the regional craze is. The current trend down at the San Diego club is roleplaying, so they’ve got loads of rooms set up for custom scenarios – office for boss and secretary or teacher and student, hospital for doctor or nurse and patient, casting office for actor/actress and casting director, prison cell for cop and prisoner… it’s a regular MGM Studios down there, but I think that’s helped by the fact that it’s in a converted warehouse down by the harbor. We get a lot of tourists and pass through visitors there, so if you’ve got some kind of very specific fantasy, there’s probably a space at Ironwood San Diego for you to do it. I even got to fulfill my fantasy of fucking one of the Power Rangers once, which was a blast. But that’s San Diego. Every place is a bit different, and that’s part of the fun of visiting all the various Ironwoods, getting to sample the local delicacy while you’re in town.”

            “And what’s the Bay Area’s local delight?”

            Louisa looked at him with a genuine look of surprise and concern, but also laughing a little bit. “They didn’t tell you? Oh, Jesus, Max, you must be going out of your mind in confusion, wondering what the fuck is going on. You also have to be really new here, otherwise I’m sure you’re smart enough to have worked it out on your own.”

            “Louisa, just tell me what I’m missing,” Max sighed. “I’m really tired of people forgetting to tell me things.”

            “Well, that’s on whoever onboarded you, although I guess it does change every so often,” she said. “Wait, was the person who brought you in to make you a member not from around here?”

            “Yeah, they’re in town for a local convention.”

            Louisa nodded, taking another sip from her Bloody Mary. “That’ll do it. They may not have even known about the local stripe.”

            “Louisa! Can you get to the—”

            “It’s a breeding kink,” Louisa said with a grin, as if she was enjoying watching Max’s reaction to the whole thing. “Ironwood Berkeley has a large coalition of women who have the fantasy of getting knocked up. Now, for a woman to be having unprotected sex at Ironwood, she needs to be on birth control, so that’s why they’ve all been so insistent on no condoms and whatnot. It’s part of the fantasy, the dream that they’re buying into. They like the idea of that moment of conception, of being bred. I have to admit, the idea itself sounds fun, so when I found out I was going to be up here for a season or so, I got an IUD installed before I came up here, so I could give it a go. So what do you think?”

            “What do I… Louisa Maresca, are you asking me to fulfill your fantasy of some guy knocking you up?” Max said with a laugh, arching an eyebrow in her direction.

            “Well, why not?” she said. “We’re both grown-ass adults. I always thought you were hot when I was a high schooler and you were just out of college, and I’d have banged you then, but you weren’t into jailbait.” She reached across the table and started smoothing one of her hands across his tattooed forearm. “But that was almost twenty years ago. I’m plenty legal now and filled out way better than I was back then. Nice big tits and everything. So you wanna have a go?”

            Max had to admit, what she said about the place having a breeding kink had made things make total sense, and the idea that the girls who had brought him here didn’t know about it also clicked right into place. Occam’s Razor – the most obvious solution was also the most likely one. And, in retrospect, it all felt so ridiculously obvious. An entire location with a current ‘kink of the month’ made way more sense than, than, than some sort of organized conspiracy to breed a master race of super chefs. What had he been smoking when he’d dreamed up that nonsense? The girls who brought him wouldn’t necessarily have known about that kink, but could’ve all been up to date on their birth control, and the longer he was there, the more everyone just assumed someone else must’ve mentioned it somewhere along the way, because why wouldn’t they have?

            “That one of your kinks, Louisa? Getting knocked up?”

            She smiled at him with a strange grin, tilting her head to one side. “I mean, I could go either way with it. But honestly, my kink goes along pretty much hand in hand with it, so if you’re willing to let me bring a friend in, we can turn the heat up to eleven and have ourselves some fun.”

            “What did you have in mind?”

            “As kinky as it is, I like being in control of other women, bossing them around, and my friend Renee and I came up here hoping we’d find a bit of strange where I could order a guy to use my her, since her kink is being subjected to a powerful woman… You see where I’m going with this?”

            Max nodded. “Sure, just me using her, or you want me to use you too?” He was learning when people were telling you their fantasies, it was best just to go along to get along, and ask questions to make sure you didn’t do anything that would get in the way.

            “In my fantasy?” Louisa said, finishing off her Bloody Mary. “You use her, and then you’re still so hopped up and worked up that you use me next, like a monster going crazy on Doctor Frankenstein. My creation can no longer be contained, you know?”

            “I can do that, if that’s what you’re into.”

            “That’s definitely the kinda thing that makes me go ‘brrrrrr…’” she said with a giggle, gesturing to her friend to come over.

Her friend Renee was probably some combination of Italian and Spanish heritage, with a naturally tan skin and long, dark straight hair that she had mostly swept back but with some bangs in front to youthen her face a little, although Max had to admit, maybe she was Jewish. She was around Louisa’s age, but didn’t have anywhere near the tattoos that Louisa was sporting. The inker was covered from shoulder to fingertip in art, but Renee’s skin was completely mark and or blemish free. She also wasn’t wearing much in the way of makeup, while Louisa had on plenty. “Whatever she said I’m into,” Renee said with a giggle as she moved in close enough to hear them talk. “That’s what I’m into, y’know?”

“I didn’t think anyone was into Cool Whip baths, but hey, whatever floats your boat…” He laughed as Renee turned to look quizzically at her friend before looking back at him, realizing he was kidding. “Too much?”

“Oh, I was just wondering how she knew when I’ve never told anybody about that,” Renee said with a grin, and it took half a second for him to realize she was kidding back at him before he laughed with her. “Seriously, I take it she told you I like being cuffed, bound, bossed around, all that?”

“That and she suggested you were interested in partaking in the local flavor of the month,” Max replied.

“Oh yeah,” Renee nodded. “It’s not my particular stripe, but I know the idea gets Louisa off, so who am I to tell a friend no?”

“Shall we go into a more private room then?” Max asked. “Or you want to do it somewhere public?”

“I have a lot of kinks,” Louisa said, “but exhibitionism isn’t one of them. Let’s head somewhere where just the three of us can have a good time.”

“Sure, let’s go check the boards.” Max made sure to finish putting away all the stuff he’d been using to show off during his cooking lesson – he’d been most of the way done when Louisa had introduced herself, but didn’t want to leave the job still partially unfinished – and then headed with the two women in tow to the front desk. One of the things there was the Busy Board, a small version of the building’s layout with the rooms, each with a little LED light at each of the doorways. If the LED was red, it meant the room was in use. If it was green, it meant the room was not in use. If the LED was yellow, that meant that the room was in use but was also open to the idea of more people coming in. The largest bedroom upstairs, the one with the master bathroom attached to it, was open, so Max ushered the two women up the stairs, one pressed to each side of him.

The bedroom had been cleaned, obviously, but still had that vaguely hotel-ish aura about it. As they got into the room, Max made his way to close the doors and flip the latches to lock them and turn the lights on downstairs which signaled that the room was occupied. He turned to look at them, as he shrugged a little with a smile, but Lousia spoke first. “Renee, go bend over the bed and tug your pants and panties down just to your knees. I want him to plow you like he just couldn’t wait any more,” she said with a slight giggle.

Her friend dutifully followed the instructions and moved over to the bed as she unbuttoned her jeans, tugging her pants and thong down to the middle of her knees before flopping on her belly on the bed, her legs hanging off it. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Louisa purred. “Fuck yeah. Just like that. Go get’er, Max.” The inker had already slid her hand between her own thighs and was rubbing it against her crotch as Max started to move over towards Renee. “Just like her, don’t get undressed. Just get your pants down to your knees and then fuck the shit out of her like you’re two desperate teenagers, too hurried to get off…”

Max slipped his jeans and boxers down to his knees as he moved in behind Renee, watching her arch her back and jut her ass back in his direction, as if to give him an easier angle. He lined up the head of his cock and pushed against her wet folds, sinking slowly inside of her pussy, hearing her moan as she leaned back into his slow push, not wanting to go too fast, but finding that she didn’t seem to need much in the way of foreplay. “You good, Renee?”

“Deeper,” she moaned. “Get the fuck in there!”

Max grinned, and leaned more into her, pushing his dick deeper inside of her, as he felt her squirming back into him, as she let out a truly filthy sounding moan. “Like that?”

“Fuck, you’ve got good dick,” Renee whimpered. “I fucking love it.”

“That’s it, Max…” Louisa purred, her hand having slipped down the front of her pants, stroking her pussy beneath the cloth, hidden from sight, but she was clearly getting into it, her other hand twisting what Max assumed was a nipple piercing through her top. “Fucking nail her. Pound her hard and fast. Give it to her.”

Despite the fact that he’d been having a lot of sex over the past week, he had to admit, there was something different about this. It definitely made him feel a bit younger, the sort of haphazard manner in which it was all being done, most of their clothes still on. Like he was back in the neighborhood he grew up in, trying to get off before anyone’s parents got home. And because of that, he felt like he needed to go quicker, needed to get off and get out, which meant the tempo he was trying to keep even and steady kept picking up pace on him, despite himself.

“Fuck yeah,” Renee coaxed. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Harder deeper c’mon fuck me, Max. Pound my fucking pussy good!”

“Mmmpphhh…. Go on, Max… do it… I wanna watch you sink your dick hilt deep in her cunt and breed her, ‘cause I told you to… I wanna know I was there when you knocked her up, when you bred her like a good little bitch because Mommy said so. Let those balls draw up and drench her womb with your spunk. I wanna see her eyes in that mirror when she goes off.”

That was when Max realized Louisa had been watching his face, and Renee’s, in the mirror on the other side of the bed, and when he saw Louisa’s face, she looked like she was on the verge of an orgasm herself, and Renee’s body was already trembling around his shaft, trying to milk a release out of him, so his body decided it should give up the ghost and play along. The rush hit him more suddenly than he was used to, and before he knew it, he was unloading inside of Renee, as his moans mixed with hers as his seed flooded into her body. He thought, based on sound, that Louisa may have also gotten herself off at around the same time.

“Fuck yeah,” Louisa giggled. “God, I can’t wait for you to finally fuck me next, after all these years…”