Mike & Karen Ch. 22

In the back seat of her Aston Martin Rapide, a young man was asleep, snoring away. She tried not to roll her eyes at the sound. He'd been hired two months ago, as a favour to friend who was a baron in Essex; he was a member of the family but had no prospects of peerage and was in need of a job. It had taken Jenny almost a week to remember that his name was Wesley. A dropout from Eton, his prospects seemed slim, and yet he couldn't embarrass the family. He needed to be away. Jenny was the answer.

While he obviously couldn't be given menial tasks around Heatherly, the problem was that he'd proven less than adept at pretty much anything else, especially if it involved the application of one's brain toward problem solving.

Wesley was not dumb, he was just... 'unmotivated' was the kind word for it. She'd been resolving to fire him and send him home to Essex, when she happened to accidentally walk in on the young man getting changed out of his pants.

And that's when Lady Greymoor finally found a use for him.

He had a nicely sized cock, and apparently had been a virgin, prior to his arrival. When she made it abundantly clear that his new employment parameters involved staying nearby to fuck her when she was feeling the itch, he was more than up to the task.

So now her swain dozed away in the back seat, heedless of any woes in this crazy world. Officially, he was simply a valet-in-training, which Reginald, her seneschal, found absurd, since he was terrible at everything. Jenny, however, had pointed out that she was employing the young man as a favour to a peer, and that was how things were. Reginald may have sniffed indignantly, but he also knew that the matter was settled and there was no point in raising it again. Jenny's considerable will had been engaged, that was all.

Jenny had other lovers to keep her occupied, aside from Wesley, including one of the girls who tended the horses they raised at Heatherly. Jenny rode well enough to meet her class standards, but she'd never been terribly interested in equestrianism as a lifestyle. Still, she'd learned it from her father, and learned it well, because the horses were all bred for events, and studding was a major source of income for the estate.

The girl she had an understanding with, a local named Elowen, was around Wesley's age, just under twenty. Jenny had caught her pleasuring herself in one of the haylofts one day, and while the girl had begged the countess not to fire her, Jenny had other plans. After that, the hayloft became their favourite places to have a frisky lesbian romp, which suited the Lady Greymoor perfectly.

Jenny was planning on spending as little time in Tewkesbury (and Gloucestershire as a whole) as possible and felt very disinclined to bring a large number of staff with her for what she considered minor nuisances. Jenny knew her family's books better than anyone, so she finally allowed a single accountant to come along, and he would meet them there. Jenny felt like driving herself, thank you very much.

The drive from Heatherly to Tewkesbury could be accomplished in a day, barring traffic complications, even for one driver. She was exiting Somerset now and about to enter Gloucestershire, with the sun high overhead.

Jenny, are you giddy because you heard from Kat, or are you simply hungry? she wondered to herself. Does it matter? Stop and eat, you silly twat!

She seemed to have made it to a small town called Bradley Stoke, and pulled into the parking lot of the mall. With the car parked, she unbuckled and turned in her seat to look back at her passenger, sighing and shaking her head.

Thank God for the dick...

"Excuse me, your lordship," she said dryly. "We have made a pit stop for sustenance and to stretch our legs."

The brown-haired kid snucked and smacked his lips, but didn't wake up, even turning away from her slightly.

Jenny frowned now and shook his leg. "Oi! Wake up, you prat!"

Wesley dragged out a snore and stirred, his eyes finally opening. He looked around dazedly, clearly having no clue where he was. His eyes finally landed on her and he blinked. "Where're we, mum?"

"In some dreadful little artificial town built around a Tesco," she answered, still shaking his leg to restore blood flow to the brain he no doubt kept in his hips to work his lower half, like a dinosaur. "That being said, it is time for you to go foraging."

He blinked again. "I... don't get your drift, mum."

"Then I shall continue snowing," the countess said. "We are just northeast of Bristol, which, you may have heard, is somewhere inside these United Kingdoms. And while I go to said Tesco and acquire some items I might need, you will be heading over to that Domino's on the other side of the parking lot and purchasing a pizza for us to eat before we soldier on our merry way."

He looked out across the lot, his eyes finally spying the aforementioned purveyor of pizza and then looked back at Jenny. "Do we have to get pizza?"

Jenny smiled sweetly, crooking her finger, and beckoning him closer. Unwittingly, Wesley sat up and leaned in, as bidden. She leaned in closer as well, whispering to him as well as stroking her fingers up and down his cheek.

"Young man, your chances of getting fucked on this trip grow dimmer with every syllable you utter," she cooed in his ear and making him shiver. "If you wish to ever see this quim again, I suggest that you stop mewling and do the easiest job anyone in Heatherly Hall has ever had, dating back to the sixteenth century."

She heard him swallow, suddenly realizing he'd pushed too far with his laziness.

"Imagine," she continued, tracing her fingernail down his chest, over the cable-knit sweater he was wearing. "Aside from keeping up appearances, your only job is to fuck me and get food for me. Would you care to guess how many people would line up for your job, were I to announce a vacancy?"

Wesley felt a chill down his spine. This was a great job, after all, even if he'd stumbled into it.

"Perhaps you feel that your employment is beneath you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him, her brown eyes curious. "Shall I wrap you up in a pretty red bow and send you back to Audley, let the baron know that you were simply too good to work for the lowly countess of Greymoor?"

"N-no," he stammered, going pale. She'd threatened this before when he fucked up, but sooner or later, her patience would run out. He had to out-fuck her impatience with him, and she knew it. "I'll go get your pizza, mum! Right away."

"I thought you might," she said airily, leaning back now and nodding. "You know how I like it. And while you're at it, lower the back seat so we can stretch out, because I find I am feeling a tad frisky after all that driving."

He nodded and began lowering the seat while she got out of the car. She was about to go to the Tesco when he spoke to her. "And mum?"

She turned and looked down at the boy, her eyebrow raised. It was a cold and windy day, and the wet breeze was messing with her hairdo.

"I just wanted to say that we've all noticed that you seem much happier in the last day or so," he said, his voice earnest as he looked up at her from inside the car. "Everyone's noticed, and... we all like it. Whatever happened, we're happy for you."

She considered for a moment and then nodded. "Thank you, Wesley."

She then turned and swished off toward the store, unable to suppress her grin.

***

St Evangeline's Academy For Young Women, 1983...

Jenny stared at the group of girls blocking her path and couldn't help but smirk. There were seven that she could count, probably more hiding nearby in the bushes and keeping an eye out for staff. It looked like this had been planned for some time, based on how cocky and confident the obvious leader of the little band of miscreant girls appeared.

"You picked a bad time to be caught outside by yourself, Cuntess," the leader said, a snotty girl named Kirsten whom Jenny had instantly disliked upon arriving at St. Eve's years before. On either side of Kirsten stood her trusty lieutenants, a pudgy girl named Faith, and a skinny, nasty girl named Hannah. They scowled at her while their leader made her big speech. Jenny wasn't impressed. "It's okay to lose control of your bladder now, if you know what's about to happen."

Jenny laughed almost derisively. "Oh, please, I have coughed up scarier things than you lot," she replied, waving her hand. "I've trucked with boys from Eton back home, they're absolute monsters. What are you going to do, throw a stuffed animal tea party at me?"

"Listen, you stuck-up bitch!" Kirsten said harshly while her flunkies tried to glare even harder. They were all supposed to be in the same school uniform as her, but they'd all gotten into different clothes to avoid damaging their outfits, in case questions were asked. Kirsten was on thin ice as it was, since she was known for picking fights with just about anyone.

Almost anyone.

She pointed a shaking finger at Jenny now, her face red with anger at the English girl's lack of concern about the threat. "You're about to get a beatdown, you stuck-up whore, and your precious étoile isn't around to save you."

Jenny shrugged. "I just assumed she would be dutifully going about her studies, as we all should be. What competition are we for her if she keeps her nose in her books and we're always fu-"

"Shut up!" Kirsten snapped, tired of Jenny not taking her peril seriously. "Appi!"

At Kirsten's call, a large black girl appeared, glowering at Jenny. Her real name was Apoda, and her parents were influential Liberian ambassadors; they'd sent her here to St. Eve's for an exceptional education. Jenny suspected Apoda's parents would be disappointed, though, because since her arrival, she'd proven good at very little except for turning football (soccer) into a full-contact sport, and beating other girls up. She worshipped the ground Kirsten walked on and was demeaned for it accordingly.

Kirsten smiled evilly, even though the smirk had not left Jenny's face. "Appi is going to turn you into a smear on the ground, and then the rest of us as gonna have a turn kicking what's left of your ass around the property, how about that?"

"I think not," Jenny said simply, examining her cuticles.

This enraged Kirsten, who pointed at Jenny again. "Appi, fucking kill her!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Appi," said a lyrical but stern voice from behind Jenny. The blonde girl's brown eyes glinted with amusement as Kat stepped out from behind a nearby tree and stood beside her, staring down the small troupe of their fellow students. "And I think you know why."

Apoda hesitated at Karen's arrival, and seemed conflicted about what to do. She really wanted to hurt the blonde bitch, but the étoile's involvement made things difficult. Kirsten scowled at her minion and then back at Jenny and Karen. "This changes nothing! Fuck her up!"

Finally Apoda moved forward, but she was no longer glowering, her stance far less aggressive. She kept clenching her big fists, but they were still down at her side. Karen stepped in front of beloved friend and stared at the bigger girl, her golden-amber eyes flashing, daring Apoda to come any closer.

"What am I fucking paying you for?!" Kirsten almost screamed, her face purple beneath her brown hair. "Do it!"

Apoda made to move forward, but Karen lunged in quick as a bolt of lightning and slapped her across the face, hard. Apoda reeled back, holding her cheek as she stared at the étoile in shock and fear. The girls all gasped, astonished by what they'd just seen. Even Kirsten seemed stunned into inaction.

Karen was now standing close enough to Hannah that she swatted sideways, backhanding the skinny girl across the cheek and sent her reeling away, keening in stinging pain. Karen turned to glare at Faith, who squealed and bolted, followed by Hannah and Apoda. Several other girls also made a run for it, having no stomach for a fight with both Karen and Jenny. Kirsten tried to back up, but she'd been gripped by fear, and seemed to have forgotten how to move.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Pullman," Karen said as she reached out and gripped Kirsten by the hair, making the brunette whimper in fright. "I have known all day what you had planned, as did Jenny. That's why she allowed you to find her so far away from the buildings. So that we wouldn't be interrupted."

"F-fuck you..." Kirsten gasped in panic, trying to put on a brave front.

"Not a chance, you dirty little thing," Karen said contemptuously, shaking Kirsten by her hair and making her burst into tears. "You're a snake, a coward, and a disgrace to St. Eve's. I will not sully myself by giving you what you so richly deserve..."

She then wrapped her fist in Kirsten's hair and made her stand up on her toes, keening in pain as Jenny walked over, her brown eyes flashing while she cracked her knuckles and slipped on some leather gloves. "I make no such guarantee for the countess here, however."

Jenny grabbed her schoolmate by her shirt while Karen turned and faced away, walking a short distance. "You have ten seconds, your highness..."

Twenty seconds later...

The two girls were running through the school grounds, under the cover of bushes and trees, trying not to laugh loudly. Karen was pulling Jenny along by the hand, making sure she kept up. They were not heading back to the main building, or the dorms, but had another destination in mind.

"I can't believe I did that to Pullman," Jenny breathed as they ran. "Pity you only gave me ten seconds."

"I'd have given you longer, but the other girls bolted so quickly, and I didn't want to take any chances," Karen replied, looking straight ahead as they crashed through the underbrush. "Let's just hope that lasts her until the end of the semester. What a bother."

"I don't know, I thought it was rather fun," Jenny laughed. "Even if you hadn't been there, I must admit that I was looking forward to mixing it up a little."

"Like you're not in enough trouble for fighting," Karen sighed, shaking her head but not slowing down. "Clarkson is always looking for reasons to punish you."

"Not as long as I've got my étoile to protect me!" the blonde exulted, allowing herself to be pulled along. "Pullman will have her knickers in a twist every waking moment now, thinking there's an informant in her ranks."

"She should've joined the chess club if she wanted to keep up then," Karen said grimly as she finally spied their goal. "There we go! Hurry up!"

The pair sprinted the short distance to the small building and burst through the door, panting and laughing before hugging in elation. It was a Mennonite chapel, near the edges of the academy's property. The building was well over a hundred years old, made of stone and wood, and used frequently used as a quiet supervised study location by the students.

"Nothing like cutting it close, ladies," chided a young woman standing nearby, smiling at them. "Everything worked out?"

"Thus far, but we're not out of the woods yet, so to speak, ma'am," Karen said, ending her embrace with Jenny and turning toward the teacher. She was Mrs. Haigler, a young and popular teacher at the academy, a personal favourite of Karen and Jenny's for many reasons, not the least of which was her willingness to help the brilliant young students avoid the trouble that seemed to insist on following them.

"True enough," the dark-haired woman said, nodding and pointing to a table where two uniforms were waiting. "There are your clothes from earlier today. Get changed while I keep watch."

She walked over to one of the shuttered windows and watched out of it carefully while the two girls hurried over to their waiting garments, already shedding their current attire. She kept watching diligently, but she wasn't hearing many sounds she would normally associate with young women getting changed.

"Ladies," she said gently but firmly, still looking out the window. "We don't really have time for that. Save it for later."

She heard them sigh, a sound followed by adequate amounts of shuffling fabric and lacing. Nearly three minutes had passed before she heard the young étoile speak. "We're done, ma'am."

"Not a moment too soon, either," Mrs. Haigler said, turning to walk toward them. "Because here comes Clarkson. Hide your clothes and sit at the table with your notebooks."

Karen stuffed their recently worn uniforms into a bag and slipped it behind a loose wall panel before darting over to join Jenny and their teacher at the table. They were all discussing Chaucer when the door opened. They all looked up, and then stood when the dean of the school walked in, looking very brusque.

"Ms. Clarkson," the young teacher said. "Nice of you to join us."

"Where have you girls been?" the rather severe-looking older woman demanded of the two students. She was as harsh as she could get away with where these two were concerned, but both their families were very powerful, and she couldn't exercise her desire for punishment on them without solid proof and cause.

"We have been here, ma'am," Karen said in her lyrical but imperious tone that made Clarkson crazy. This girl's composure was maddening. Ekaterina Leda Gloriana Gordon ruled the academy, and she knew it. Or she would have ruled it, had she felt so inclined. "With Mrs. Haigler, doing our extra credit work on Chaucer. Why do you ask?"

"Several girls are insisting that you two were involved in a fight," the dean said rather coldly. "Ms. Pullman has been roughed up, while Ms. Nagabe has a swollen cheek. Why are they all insisting you were involved?"

"How many girls are insisting this, ma'am?" Karen asked pointedly.

The dean paused momentarily before answering. "Seven."

"So seven girls are insisting that Ms. Penrose and myself started a fight with all of them and defeated them?"

Another pause. "That... is their contention."

Karen stepped forward, her arms spread out to the side as she presented herself. "You're free to inspect me, ma'am, for signs that I have been in a fight with seven girls."

"Myself as well, ma'am," Jenny offered, doing the same as Karen.

The dean grimaced, but didn't have much choice. She inspected the two girls for signs of an altercation, from scuffs or scratches, to dirt on their clothes. Both girls were pristine, as was their normal habit.

"What is that acrid smell?" Clarkson asked, wrinkling her nose as she inspected Karen's skirt.

"It's a phenol, ma'am," Karen answered plainly. "It got spilled during chemistry class and a little got on my skirt. I apologize, I haven't changed out of those clothes yet."

"See to it that you do," the dean grunted, standing up and then looking at the young teacher who was standing with them. "These two have been here with you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Haigler answered, nodding, her hands in front of her. "As Ms. Gordon mentioned, we have been reviewing the Chaucer assignments."

"How long have you been here?" Clarkson asked.

"At least two hours, ma'am," the young teacher said, pointing to the desk and all the notes scrawled in notebooks, along with open textbooks. "Whatever else may have happened, I can account for their whereabouts."

She looked at the two students again. "Why would Ms. Pullman and those other students be insisting that you started a fight?"

Karen shrugged. "Jenny and I are not exactly well-liked by certain elements of the student body, ma'am. Is it possible they are trying to set us up, and hoping that sheer dint of witness numbers will sway your opinion?"

The dean sighed. "It is true, not all your fellow students like you, Ms. Gordon, and it is probably jealousy, I will agree. It seems like a lot of trouble to go to, hurting one another in order to create an elaborate lie like that."