Brewster's Brood - Part 4 (Patreon)

Part Four

Jenny Westinghouse – 3/7/2017 – Tuesday – 1:57 am

Jenny felt a certain level of satisfaction. She'd gotten the first load out of Max, and hopefully it would take, but if it didn't, she felt confident that he would want to have another go with her. But that was only the first part of her night, and Michelle had given her such fodder to play with.

The diminutive Texan's tale of asking to be bossed around had evoked quite the reaction from Max, and Jenny had made a note in her head to circle back to it for the second round. “You still want to be bossed around, Michelle?” she said, a sly smile on her face.

Michelle nodded quickly and emphatically, enthusiasm running rampant on her face. “Yes, ma'am, very much so, ma'am,” the Texan said, licking her lips impatiently. “How should I–”

Jenny reached over and lightly slapped Michelle across her face, not hard enough to hard, mostly just a glancing blow to shock her into silence. “You should shut the fuck up until you're asked a direction question,” Jenny said, a hard edge to her voice, as Michelle's eyes widened. “You want to be bred like a bitch, you'd better get down on all fours like one.”

Zoe giggled a little, licking her lips, as Michelle crawled up onto the bed and got up on her hands and knees, leaning her head downward, like she was trying to get into a yoga pose. “This is gonna be fun,” Zoe said, slapping her hand on Michelle's ass with a loud clap, watching the girl shiver in response, but hold steady, not moving at all. ”Get those thighs spread wider, bitch,” Zoe said, pushing at one of Michelle's knees with her foot, forcing her to extend the width between them.

Although she felt so warm and wonderful with a belly full of cum, Jenny knew her job was far from over, and that she needed to make sure everyone got what was coming to them. The fact that Max had a large cock had been a nice surprise; the fact that he'd actually been good at using it had been a nicer one. Of course, she'd gotten him at his most pent-up, years of sexual frustration bubbling over inside of him, so she resolved to make sure he didn't lose any of that energy. The more gung-ho she could keep him, the easier it would be to spin new people in and out of his orbit.

“C'mon, Max,” Zoe purred at him. “She's waiting for you, so eager and needy and wanton. I mean, c'mon, just look at how drippy this snatch of hers is,” she said, sliding two fingers across the Texan's pussy before spreading the lips wide, to give him a look inside of her. “As much as I want my turn on the horse, 'Chelle here did take the shit job during the first go around, so I think you'd better properly breed the bitch, don't you?”

“I don't... I'm not... I...” Max said, his head clearly spinning, before Jenny kissed him hard, both hands holding onto the back of his head, keeping his lips against hers for a long moment.

“It's just a bit of fun, Max,” Jenny whispered invitingly to him. “She's got a fantasy and you can fill it. You want to fill it, don't you? Don't you want to fill her?”

Max swallowed a breath of air, then nodded. “I mean, yeah, but...”

“But nothing,” Jenny said, grinning at him, pulling him off the bed so that he had to sit up. “She wants it, and she wants you to hammer her like a good little whore.” Jenny lifted one of her hands and brought it down with a slap onto Michelle's pale ass, one of the few parts of her not heavily tanned. “That's what you want, isn't it, bitch? To feel his cock tearing you open and stuffing you full?”

“God yes, ma'am,” Michelle groaned, trying to wiggle her hips a little bit, like she was trying to keep Max's attention there. “I'm ready to be bred.”

Zoe pushed one of her fingertips inside of Michelle's pussy with a loud wet squish, making it abundantly clear that the Texan was drenched. When she pulled the fingertip back, a bit of clear cream dangled in a line between her finger and the girl's cunt until finally it snapped, as Zoe brought the fingertip up to her lips, licking it clean. “Go on, Max,” she moaned. “I wanna see you really give it to her. She wants to be rode hard and put away wet.”

Jenny moved to push him up onto his knees. “That's what we both want,” she said, her hand dragging her fingernails down his back. “To see you light into her, to break her open and pump her full of hot cum. Give the fuckhole what she deserves, Max.”

He still seemed a little dazed by all of this, so Jenny slid her chest against his back, pressing her tits against him, as her hand reached down and stroked his cock a little bit before lifting it up, making sure he was getting in line to just slide into her. “I mean, are you sure?” Max asked Michelle, needing one final push to get him into all of this.

“I don't feel right without your cum, sir,” Michelle said, jiggling her ass in his direction, almost trying to push herself back onto his cock, but not going the last bit, as if she wanted, no, needed, Max to do it to her. “I'm an empty fuckhole who hasn't filled her purpose in life, sir. To be your little cumcatcher. To take your hot spunk into her fertile belly. To be bred, like a good little bitch. Like your good little bitch, sir. Please, sir. Don't make me wait any longer to serve my purpose. My cunt is so empty without you in it.” Her voice had taken on a slight whine, like the need was strong inside of her. The girl was a better actor than Jenny had originally given her credit for.

“Do it, Max,” Jenny whispered into his ear. “Plow the bitch stupid. Lemme see you grab onto those hips and rail her like she's begging you to.”

“C'mon Max,” Zoe echoed. “She can't be any more clear about what she wants, the silly bitch. Now fucking drill the slut stupid already.”

Jenny had gotten him lined up right, and as his hands were starting to slide over her hips, she thrust her hips against his ass, forcing him to push his cock deep inside of the Texan's twat, a low growl of pleasure escaping the pint-sized woman's throat in response, as she shouted “Fuck yeah!”

Max's fingertips squeezed onto Michelle's hips, sinking into the generous flesh there, as his hips smacked into her ass, making the two large cheeks jiggle in response, as he groaned. Jenny imagined the Texan was tight. He'd been a snug fit inside of her own pussy, but the Texan was littler than her by no small amount.

“Like this, dear,” Zoe said, grabbing a fistful of Michelle's hair in her own fingers, pulling back on it, making the Texan expose her neck, pushing hard with her arms to keep her braced upwards. “Grab here,” she said, taking one of Max's hands, moving it to replace her own in Michelle's dark blonde waves. “Now don't be afraid to really yank if she tries to lean her head down.”

“Nnnngghhhh...” Michelle whined. “Fffffuck that's a thick hog he's got. Feels like he shoved a pick-up in my cunny.”

“But you want it, don't you, bitch?” Jenny hissed at her. “You love how it hurts, don't you?”

“Fuck yeah, ma'am!” Michelle growled, lifting her feet to try and hook them atop of Max's, like she wanted to make sure he wasn't going to try and go anywhere on her, to keep him in place, to make sure he kept his cock inside of her. “Drill it! Ram it! Stuff it! Plow me!”

With one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, Max seemed like he had a pretty good line on keeping her body in motion, as he pulled back and then punched forward again, the tempo cruder than Jenny had expected of him. The cop found herself pleased that he seemed willing to lean into whatever his partner expected of him, and that he was game to play into whatever kinks the girls seems to be presenting him with.

Maybe, she thought to herself, Max might actually be kind of a good catch.

He thumped into her time and time again, each time his body slamming into hers sending her body into little jiggles and ripples, her plump tits swaying beneath her heavily. The pace was intense, frenzied and forceful, and while Jenny had needed to push him into it at first, now he was moving entirely on his own, his hand in her hair tugging on her mane to make sure she faced forward, as Zoe slid in front of her.

“God, look at this this little bitch take that dicking,” Zoe said to Jenny, or maybe to Max, it was hard to tell. “So eager to get knocked up, to have a belly full of hot cum, cream inside of her cunt, struggling to take hold, to give her life meaning, to give birth, fulfulling the only purpose a bitch truly has.” Zoe seemed like she was doing her best to get Max off as quickly as possible, knowing she would get the third load, but it also seemed like she enjoyed making sure Michelle was as worked up as possible, and the Texan was doing her best to thrust back into his pushes, like she wanted to get his dick back inside of her as quickly as possible. “Fill her up, Max. Creampie that cunt so hard she nearly blasts off you. She wants it so fucking bad, don't you bitch?”

“SO fucking bad,” Michelle whimpered. “Shit, I can't help it, I'm gonna fuck it fuck fuck fuck I'm fucking cumming I'm fucking cumming holy shit I'm really fucking cummmmmmmmmming!”

As soon as the Texan started to quiver and spasm, Jenny pushed Max and made sure he stayed balls deep inside of her cunt, imagining it was clamping and trying to milk it out of him, when suddenly she heard his breath hitch, and his head leaned back, his breath in quick sniff-snorts, gasping it inward. She stroked her fingertips across his chest, letting his head lean against her shoulder before he let out a long hiss of air, then inhaled two lungfuls worth of oxygen, a soft laugh on his lips.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped. “That was fucking intense.” He laughed a bit, sounding more drunk now than he had earlier. “You okay, Michelle?”

“Okay?” she said, slumping face first into the mattress, her shoulders pressed against the cool sheets as her cunt slipped off his softening cock with a wet pop, her knees drawing together to try and keep her hips elevated, trying to prevent as much of his cum as she could from running out of her. “That was fucking fantastic. Holy shit, that felt fucking fantastic, y'all!”

Zoe giggled a little bit, moving over to kiss Max for a moment. “I know, I know, you gotta take a breather, so why don't we all get a good night's sleep, and you can fuck me in the morning, okay?”

“Oh god,” Max whimpered. “I dunno if I'm gonna be up for another round by then, but I guess I can give it a try.”

“Shhhhh,” Zoe hushed him. “No need to worry until morning. Jenny, help me lay him down and get him under the covers.” Zoe and Jenny moved to pull Max onto his back, getting his head lined up against one of the pillows. Two rounds of vigorous sex had clearly taken its toll on the man, and Jenny was glad to see that Zoe was going to be reasonable about how much energy the man could give them all at once.

Once Max's head hit the pillow, it was clear the man was going to pass out within minutes, so Zoe moved in to snuggle against one side of him while Jenny moved to saddle up to the other side. Michelle was reluctant to move from her pose, but after another minute or so, pulled away from her position and moved to spoon in against Jenny, her arm just long enough to drape her hand onto Max's chest over Jenny's body.

'A good first step,' Jenny thought to herself, 'but tomorrow's when the real work begins.'

Mrs. Churchill – 3/7/2017 – Tuesday – 2:31 am

“Damn shame about your horse coming in last, boss,” Jacinda said with a laugh, as the women looked on at the night vision screen. Within a few minutes of everyone climbing into bed, all four of them were fast asleep. “But don't worry. I'm sure your girl will get her fix on in the morning. Zoe's too smart to let this opportunity to get her first shot before the scene gets crowded pass her by.”

“You're very good at figuring people out, Jacinda,” Mrs. Churchill grumbled. “Maybe you're too good for this job, even. But for the time being, let's just make sure we are being prepped to keep our boy's wheels spinning. So make sure everything is set up for tomorrow, then maybe get yourself some sleep, with one person here manning the battlestations, just in case something goes bump in the night while the rest of us are getting caught up on our beauty rest. Are we sure they're all out?”

Lynne taped the monitor reassuringly. “All four of them sound asleep as of five minutes ago, boss lady. And based on the workout they had just had, I wouldn't expect anyone to wake up any time soon neither.”

“What, you've never had anyone sneak out on you in the middle of the night, Lynne?” Maia joked, standing up from her chair, stretching a little bit.

“Only the one time,” Lynne said. “And I made sure that shit didn't ever happen again.”

“Oh yeah?” Jacinda said. “What did you do?”

“Caught his ass trying to sneak out the front door, so I shoved him out it and locked him out, all before he'd realized he'd left his cell phone in my place,” Lynne said, looking smug. “I dropped it out of the window of my third story New York apartment and let him go try to find the pieces outside.”

“That's one way to ensure he loses your number permanently,” Mrs. Churchill said. “Alright, ladies, who's drawing the short straw?”

“I'll do watch for tonight,” Lynne said. “But that means I'm cutting out early tomorrow night and someone else gets to manage my detail.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jacinda said, grabbing her bag. “We all know how getting the short shift works, Lynne. You got everyone's numbers in case anything goes wrong?”

“Mrs. Churchill will be my first call, and you'll be my second, Jac.”

“Great. Now I'm gonna go pass out in the very expensive hotel room Mrs. Churchill has put me up in,” Jacinda said, opening the door to their operating room, heading out into the night.

“If anything goes weird, you call me Lynne,” Mrs. Churchill said, patting the large black woman on the shoulder.

“You don't pay me enough to solve major fires, boss.”

“I do,” Mrs. Churchill said with a laugh, “but call me anyway.”

She headed out of the operations center and past the armed security before getting into the elevator, heading upstairs to her suite in the Claremont Club. The hotel was expensive, but it was also the kind of place where she and her team could do their business uninterrupted and without people nosing in their business.

Max seemed like a nice enough man, and Mrs. Churchill almost felt bad for what they were going to be putting him through over the next 100 days. She'd visited the man's food truck a few times during the prep sessions, and there was no denying, he was an excellent cook. She'd also done her homework into the loss of his restaurant a few years back that had set him on this path, and in doing so, she'd only gotten more and more angry on his behalf. He'd been right – the landlords may have found a legal loophole to avoid liability, but from an ethical point of view, it had been entirely their fault, and they should've paid Max a great deal of money, more than enough for him to start up in a new location. Ah well, she thought to herself, soon enough he would have all the money in the world, and he could have a hundred restaurants, if that's what he wanted.

As she was reaching her suite, her cellphone buzzed, and for half a moment, she was worried that it would be Lynne with some hiccup before she'd even gotten a chance to get into bed, but instead she saw another name – Schwartz.

“Hello Deiter,” she said, bringing the phone to her ear. “I hope you've enjoyed your little peepshow so far.” She waved the keycard in front of her hotel room door, and the automatic lock popped open, the door leaning inward.

“Wunderbar, Frau Churchill,” the German man said to her, his voice only marginally accented. “It was quite the spectacle tonight, and I am certain you have had no complaints regarding any of what we have witnesses so far.”

“So I'm hoping that's why you're calling me?” she said, closing the hotel room's door behind her as she flicked on the light. “To wish me congratulations on a solid beginning? You can't possibly have any complaints regarding the matter.”

“Nein, Frau Churchill,” he said. “No complaints. But I do have something of a request. Slightly unorthodox, I will admit, but nothing that is outside of your power to grant. I would consider it a personal favor if you were able to do this small thing for me.”

“Now Deiter,” she chuckled, “I couldn't possibly do anything to compromise the integrity of the game, if that's what you're asking. I know some of you and yours have been gambling on things, but that's strictly between you and your people.” She tossed her key card onto the nightstand next to her bed, kicking off her flats. It looked as though her staff had left her a bottle of expensive whiskey in her room, and it would be a shame to not at least have a sip from that.

“I'm not asking you to compromise the game, Frau Churchill, but I would like to make a slight... addition to the pool, if that might be possible.”

Mrs. Churchill frowned for a moment. While saying no to Deiter Schwartz was an option, it wasn't something to be done trivially. He was, after all, the 38th richest man in the world, and if he wanted to, he could certainly make life difficult for Mrs. Churchill. “You know I don't like surprises, Deiter. What kind of addition?”

“Oh, just one more player to the game, that's all. And you can send her in with the last batch, so your team will have plenty of time to do whatever homework you need to on her beforehand, to ensure I'm not putting anyone dangerous into the mix.”

“Why didn't you come to me with this sooner, Deiter?”

“I wasn't entirely certain I could convince the young lady that it was in her best interests, but you know how persuasive I can be, given a chance,” the man said, his voice so smug she could practically hear the smirk on his face on the other end. “She is lovely enough, she's not barren, she's smart and capable, and she certainly wants a child without a man being in the mix to muck things up. So, what's the harm in adding one more?”

“What's the catch, Deiter?” she said, sliding the suitcoat off, draping it over the back of a chair near the bed.

“Who's to say there's a catch?”

“Alright Deiter, then I'm hanging up now.”

“Wait!” He sighed. “Fine, the catch is that she happens to be my grand-daughter.”

“Deiter,” she scolded. “I thought we all agreed, no skin in the game.”

“She won't muck around with your game, Helen, but if you could see fit to do me this small courtesy, I would owe you a favor,” he said, trying a more hangdog approach. “And I'm certain you know what a benefit it can be for me to owe you a favor. There has yet to be jam invented that I cannot extricate someone from.”

Mrs. Churchill paused and considered her options for a long moment. She didn't like late additions, and she didn't like surprises, but Deiter was willing to let his late arrival go through her whole screening process before being allowed near Max. It was a little shorter of a window than she liked... but it was definitely doable. Worst of all, Deiter would've known that before he asked.

“She goes in with the last group, and only if she successfully passes the round of tests we put each and every other candidate through,” Mrs. Churchill said. “I'm not going to let her skip past all the other security measures we have in place to ensure Max's safety and personal health. I botch that up, and all the favors in the world you've promised me don't mean anything. You know how seriously The Garrotte takes his work, and if I don't deliver what I've set out to do, well, let's just say I'll finger you as the reason everything went tits up.”

“Absolutely fair, Frau Churchill,” Deiter said. “I wouldn't want it any other way. I am as invested in this matter as you are, and I agree, if you find anything wrong with my Adette, you need not let her anywhere near your golden goose. But once she passes all the tests, you will slide her in with your Juliett Group?”

“Okay, Deiter. Okay,” she sighed. “I can make that happen. Just make sure she's at the Claremont Club asking for me tomorrow morning at 11 a.m.”

“Excellent. I appreciate you doing me this courtesy.”

“I'm going to hold you to that favor, Deiter.”

“My dear Frau Churchill, I would have it no other way.”

The line went dead. Mrs. Churchill poured herself a small glass of the whiskey, then rang Jacinda, hoping the woman hadn't gone to bed yet. Thankfully, a few rings later, her right-hand woman answered the phone.

“I'll have you know, boss, that I'm talking to you sitting on the toilet,” Jacinda said.

“That's fine,” Mrs. Churchill replied. “What I'm going to tell you is probably going to make you shit bricks anyway...”

Max Brewster – 3/7/2017 – Tuesday – 10:44 am

Max didn't awaken at all how he'd expected to.

When he'd drifted off to sleep, he'd decided there were only two possible options for how he was going to wake up. The first was that he'd wake up in his bed above Frankie's garage, and the entire thing would've been just a weird dream he'd had from drinking too much.

That didn't happen.

The second option, he'd decided, was that he would wake up in bed with three beautiful women spooning up against him, and that everything that he thought had happened to him last night had in fact happened to him last night.

That didn't entirely happen either.

He thought at first when he started to stir that he was alone in bed, no warm body pressed against his left or his right, but then he realized he wasn't entirely alone in the bed.

With her straddled atop of his cock, he awoke inside of Zoe, the Scandinavian blonde he'd not fucked the night before. He tried to guess how he'd gotten from there to here, but all he could think was that the other girls had crawled out of the bed earlier in the morning, and Zoe had seen morning wood and decided to make the most of it.

She was quite into it, and it took her a moment to realize that he was awake, as she thrust her hips back and forth onto his dick, slow but steady thrusts, both of her hands atop her head, lost in her hair, a look of wicked pleasure on her face.

“Mmmmmm, looks like someone finally woke up,” she giggled down at him. “It's okay, I got started without you. And if you can't last long, that's okay.” Her impeccable fingernails raked along his chest. “Because I wanna feel it.”

Max found it odd to go from being asleep to cumming in such a short period of time, but sure enough, he could feel her cunt clamping down on him, her tits pressed together by her upper arms, her light blue eyes fixated on his face, and within just a minute or two of waking up, he was doing his best to fill her pussy with a load of cum, although his balls hadn't had all that long to recharge.

She slumped forward down atop of him, her lips grazing against his again and again before she placed her face down on the pillow. “Now that's how I want to wake up all the time,” she purred into his ear. “But I know how greedy of me that would be. You ready to get up? The girls were making us breakfast, but they wanted to make sure I got my turn on the great Max Velocity ride.”

“We should probably get a shower first.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Twenty minutes later, Max found himself seated at a dining room table with all three of the women he'd fucked in the last twelve hours, as well as Frankie, with Rachel sitting on his lap, an exquisite breakfast laid down in front of them.

Nothing felt quite real, especially since all the girls continued to talk about how much they'd enjoyed the previous night, each of them checking in on Rachel, making sure she had a good time. Nobody seemed to mention how odd it was that three of them had shared him, and Max was starting to wonder if he'd stumbled into something he was completely unprepared for.

“So what's the rest of your day look like, Max?” Jenny asked him. She'd finished first, and had placed her bare feet in his lap, a wry smirk on her face, as if she was daring him tom ask her to move them, but Max suspected it was a trap, and didn't.

“Tuesday is sort of my Saturday,” he said, “so I don't really have all that much in the way of plans. I don't want us to eat up all of your time, though. I'm sure you ladies have a conference to get to.”

“There's not much in terms of presentations today, at least nothing I really care about,” Jenny said, “so I was thinking maybe I could you take you up to Ironwood Estates and get you a membership to the place. Like I was saying last night, I'm friends with the owner of the local branch, so getting friends in isn't really a problem.”

“Yeah, I don't really know if I'd be a good match for a sex club, Jenny,” he said to her. “It sounds like a bit much. I mean, I'm not into dudes, and that story you told last night..”

Rachel waved her hand dismissively. “It's all voluntary, Max,” she said. “You lay down the law about what you like and what you don't, what you'll do and what you won't, and everyone respects those rules. I think you should go.”

“Are you a member too, Rachel?” he asked. He remembered Jenny's story, but didn't remember Rachel saying she was also a member.

“I am,” Rachel said, sliding off Frankie's lap to start clearing the table of dirty dishes. “That's where Jenny and I met. Sometimes we both just go up there to hang out and enjoy the scenery. Tell you what, the two of us will take you up there for lunch, and you can get the lay of the land, see what you think about it. They actually have a great kitchen up there, so you should come and appreciate the food, see if maybe you can offer them some tips. If you try it and you don't like it, we won't say anything else about it, but it would be nice to get more men into the club. The Berkeley chapter can be a bit of a clam bake some days.”

“Clam bake?” Max asked, not understanding the reference.

“Basically, an inverse sausage fest, Max,” Frankie said, trying to be helpful.

“I mean, I guess? If you think we wouldn't be imposing...”

“Absolutely,” Jenny said, kissing his cheek. “I'll make the call and the three of us can take a late lunch up there, and maybe enjoy some dessert while we're there.”

At this point, Max wasn't sure what the hell he'd gotten himself into, but he was clearly in way, way, way, way over his head.