Mike & Karen Ch. 23

"Okay, that's true, but for a lesbian, she's got a giant crush on you, so even if you need to bash her into submission with your cock again, just keep that in mind," Janet mentioned, finally filming again. Mike just sighed and shook his head.

"So, Bresc," Janet said finally, turning the camera toward Mona, who was still sitting on the floor, quite naked. Rather than be bothered by her friend recording her in the altogether, Mona began pretending to pose, primping her hair and batting her eyelashes. "Y'want me to record this li'l soiree for posterity? I'm kinda sorry I didn't do it my first time with the beast, y'know?"

Mona considered for a moment and then smiled cheerfully. "As long as it's not available for general distribution and viewing, that's not a bad idea, J. Go for it."

"I won't even give DeBourne a copy, I promise," Janet assured her, still recording.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Mike asked.

"No," the two girls said in unison before laughing together. "Your purpose is to provide pleasure by giving us a good dicking," Janet added. "We put up with your giant nerd brain, don't we? We've gotta get something worthwhile outta this."

"Go ahead and record, Jan," Mona said, getting back up and kneeling in front of Mike's erection again. "Should I pick up where I left off?"

"Dealer's choice," Janet answered, recording again. Mona nodded and began fitting her mouth over Mike's cock again, slowly pushing her lips down her length as far as she could.

"That's it, keep goin', babe," Janet said encouragingly, acutely aware of the tingle growing stronger between her own legs. "This is gold."

I'll bet Heyman's sorry she left now... she thought in dark amusement.

***

Upstairs and down the hallway...

"The big jerk..." Lisa muttered, sitting still on her bed while Karen sat in front of her and used her thumbs to press on her friend's nose gently. There was nothing actually wrong, but Lisa was making it sound like she'd been struck in the face with a warhammer.

Which was fair, under the circumstances.

"Why'd he hafta go and do that?" she continued to grouse. The bridge of her nose was slightly bruised, and there was a small amount of dark skin at the very corner of her eyes. "I crashed the party to make Mona's sex awkward and poke fun at dicks, not get smashed in the face by one."

"Look, if you're going to answer your own questions, do I really need to be here for this conversation at all?" Karen reasoned, still checking the redhead out for thoroughness' sake. "Whether you like it or not, darling, you had that coming. You can't just wander around insulting people's genitalia, you know."

"Even icky boys?" Lisa moped.

"There's nothing icky about that boy, and you know it," Karen said firmly. "Except maybe for his predilection for wearing tartan pants and listening to the Bay City Rollers. Even if you are completely gay, you have to admit that is a very fine specimen of the male member he's lugging around."

Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Kar, did you just compliment Mike's schlong? Is there something you need to tell us?"

"I'm perfectly capable of being objective, Lisa, even when faced with a 'schlong' as imposing as his, thank you," Karen replied. "But to boot, the minute Janet had access to that equipment, her grades slipped, you may recall. I fully expect Mona's to start doing so as well. I would just as soon avoid any temptation that is likely to unhinge me, since I'd be exiled to the Caribbean or Belgium by my family for my failure."

She handed Lisa a small wad of aloe-infused tissues and walked away, allowing her roomie to see to her sinuses. Even if Mike hadn't actually done any damage, he'd cracked the redhead's nasal cavity right open, and she was leaking like a faucet.

Still, she'd had it coming.

Lisa trumpeted into the tissue, shaking her head back and forth before making a wry face and dumping the mess in her wastebasket. "So y'called your parents?"

Karen nodded, sitting on her bed now. "I asked them to come down when they could, I said I had something to tell them."

"Think your dad'll spend the night tryin' to guess what you wanna speak with them about?" Lisa asked, crossing her eyes as she pressed the tip of her finger against her nose and wiggled it. Still hurt. The big jerk...

"Probably not," the bronze-haired goddess mused, shrugging her shoulders, her legs crossed. "I've trained him to trust me about things. If I'd screwed up, he'd probably expect me to exile myself, and save them the trouble."

"I was kinda lookin' forward to you goin' to Seoul, Kar, no lie," the redhead admitted. "But I totally get it about Lucerne. And qualifying for Barcelona will probably be easier than coming up with another discovery that makes all the eggheads pee themselves, right?"

"You're probably actually right, absurd as that sounds," Karen laughed. "Me cleaning up in archery, fencing, and equestrian is probably easier than producing another physics-shattering discovery. For me, anyway. I wouldn't be so sure about DeBourne."

Lisa went quiet and looked contemplative for several seconds, and Karen just watched her, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"What is it, darling?" she asked finally.

"It's... never mind, Kar, it was just a weird and awkward thought," Lisa answered, trying to wave it off.

"Well now I have to know," Karen replied, smiling. "Go on, Lisa, you know I'll worm it out of you eventually, so just save yourself the trouble."

Lisa sighed, looking at the floor. "I... I was jus' wondering what Jenny would've thought of Mike, if she'd met him."

Karen was silent for some moments before smiling again. "I can pretty much guarantee that she would have fallen in love with him, darling. Very hard."

Lisa considered and then nodded. "No wonder y'never brought him up while she was here."

Karen closed her eyes, thinking about how very correct, and how very, very wrong that simple statement was, all at once. It boggled the mind.

And she had no answer herself. How could she?

***

Blackwell Main Dining Room, the present, actual St. Paddy's Day...

"Heavens, look at you lot," Karen mused, smirking as various members of the staff shuffled into the big dining room, most of them still wearing their pajamas or robes. Per Mike's instructions, they all had the morning off, following the carousing the night before, and he was making breakfast for everyone, with Alex's assistance. Karen was still in her own robe, a silken kimono-style work of art, black with gold sigils of the Amano clan on it. It had been a gift, long ago. "Are we sure a threnody is not in order?"

Tunde just sat in his chair, looking blankly at the opposite wall and seeming rather pale, despite his ethnicity. Trilby was little better, despite having not drunk very much. She had her elbows on the table and her hands were rubbing at her cheeks and her eyes, trying to get the tingling to stop.

Valentina sat down, shaking her head slowly, eyes squeezed shut. She regretted having a brain, since it wouldn't stop pounding. "I thought you liked me, Mistress. How could you let me do that to myself?"

Karen almost giggled. "You're a big girl, with free will and agency, Miss Prospero, I have faith in your judgement."

"No offense, Mistress, but that's obviously really dumb," the brunette mumbled, trying to stay upright in her chair. Next to her, even Ari was looking less than pleased at still being alive. His super-cellphone, sitting on the table next to him and monitoring the estate's computers, buzzed loudly, and everyone (except Karen) winced, groaning before Ari picked it up to check what was happening. Of course, it was nothing.

Theresa seemed grateful for the morning off, looking rather pale and slurping at her coffee dully. Marie, who had indulged in enough beers followed by wine that hangover struck, sat next to the chef, breathing rhythmically through her nose.

"Oh my God, I'd forgotten," mumbled Theresa. "Whiskey is the absolute Devil."

"Ma 'vefes ket bet mezv-dall derc'h, 'vefes ket o' klemm gant an droug blev hiziv..." Marie grumbled to her co-worker, not appreciating the noise of conversation so close to her person.

"Now, Miss Jezequel, there's no need to be so testy, I promise we'll have you fixed up straight away," Karen chided, smiling at her gardener and botanist.

Marie stared at Karen in bleary-eyed disbelief. "Komz a rit brezhong?"

Karen smiled. "Alli and I both speak Breton to one extent or another. I picked it up as a matter of course for some classical studies about Peter Abelard, and Alli lived in Rennes for a time."

"Digarez..." Marie said humbly, blushing.

"What did she even say to me?" Theresa asked.

Alexa had just breezed into the room and sat down next to Karen. She was wearing a plush crème-coloured bathrobe and smiled pleasantly. "She said that if you hadn't been pissed like a newt yesterday, then you wouldn't be complaining about a hangover today."

Theresa looked at the Breton woman. "You have newts in France?"

Glenda sauntered in, trying not to laugh as she looked at her fellow staff members. "Oh, you poor dears. I honestly feel bad that I'm not suffering with you."

"Wanna swap?" Trilby muttered, trying not to burp into her fist.

"Jeesh, I thought I was comin' down to breakfast and here I am in the middle of a funeral," Andrea quipped as she strolled in seconds later, already in her work coveralls. "C'mon, you guys didn't drink that much. Dave'n I each drank more'n all of you put together."

"Well, yeah, but you're a big, rangy German chick, and Dave's made of old boot leather," Valentina complained, trying to scowl at Andrea. "It's not like I store alcohol in my tits, y'know."

"If you thought you were popular with the boys now, Miss Prospero, I can guarantee they'd never leave you alone if they found out you could do that," Karen mused, causing Alexa to burst out laughing loudly, and consequently making everyone else at the table clutch their heads and moan in pain.

"Where is Leatherface, anyway?" Ari asked about Dave, rubbing at his eyes and thankful that Mrs. DeBourne was keeping the curtains shut, preventing the sunlight from killing them all. His hangover was bad enough that his normally crisp, faded hair looked absolutely wilted, like a plant desperately in need of watering.

"Helpin' the Father and Son DeBourne make breakfast," Andrea replied as she pulled out her chair, careful not to scrape it loudly, and sat down. "You're lucky to have your job, Theresa, that man can cook."

"It was one of the reasons I married him," Karen mentioned. "Before we moved back here, we owned a home in Kleinburg, and Michael did most of the cooking. It was my job to make sure the constant flow of entire sides of beef and other foods were in stock, to keep him and my growing boy from starving."

"Good morning," Jordan said politely as he entered the room, already dressed and looking crisp and dignified. "I trust everyone is well?"

"Oh, c'mon!" Trilby groused, looking up at the English gentleman, scowling, while Valentina just groaned and put her face in her hands in despair. "You drank more'n most of us and you're not hung over? You're like, a million!"

"Be that as it may, my dear," Jordan said amiably, allowing Alexa to seat him before giving him a warm hug and then returning to her own chair. "You will find that in the service of this family, a healthy tolerance to alcohol is something of a plus."

"Then I am dead," Tunde said, still staring straight ahead at the far wall. "So this is how I die..."

"Oh, you're such a drama llama, Tunde," Andrea laughed, patting his shoulder. "The guys said they'll start carting in the food in about five."

"I am glad to hear it," Tatyana sighed, squinting as she looked at her cup of strong coffee. She didn't drink often, and now she remembered why. She thought back to when she was a little girl, sneaking out of her room late at night and going to watch her father and other Soviet expats sitting around the dining table in their house, discussing the old country and drinking cheap vodka dripped through burnt toast.

She'd tried the foul concoction once she was a teenager and decided her father and his friends were crazy. Smart enough to flee totalitarianism but bringing some of their absurd peasant rituals with them. Who the Hell thought that was a good idea?

"Madame, it is very kind of you and your husband to look after your staff like this after last night," she added, appreciating the strong coffee, not to mention the morning off. Were all holidays going to be like this with these people? "I promise you that we will all be back up and running later this morning."

"Might as well just draw up my termination papers now, then," Trilby sighed while Val moaned and laid her forehead on the table surface, rocking it back and forth slowly.

"Miss Orlova, it was our fault that the staff is traumatized, and we factored that in when we invited you out," Karen assured her, smiling. "Besides, it's St. Patrick's Day, everyone can have it off to recover. Andrea can just do a quick check to make sure that the plumbing and furnaces are working, and that should cover us."

"Thank you, ma'am," Tatyana said, nodding. "They are a good staff, even if they cannot hold their liquor, seemingly."

"Okay, heads up," Dave said, striding into the room while holding a large tray full of breakfast condiments which he put on the table. "Plenty of food inbound, something for everyone. Sorry, Theresa, we might've plundered some of your goodies from the coolers and refrigerators."

The chef waved it off as she rubbed her face, trying to get herself ready to eat. She understood the importance of eating after a night of carousing and despite a hangover. At least she wasn't being forced to drink pickle brine. Nobody was that hung over.

Well, maybe Tunde.

The DeBourne men (already dressed) were wheeling in loads of breakfast food on carts, ranging from granola muesli and fresh grapefruit, to various cereals, eggs, omelettes, bacon, sausages, and Belgian waffles. There was milk, juice, and more coffee. For Trilby and Tunde, there were vegetarian options.

"Wow, not bad," Theresa managed to say. The two of them had managed to more or less match her output for a big breakfast. "You even remembered the paprika for the eggs."

"What're eggs without paprika and Tabasco sauce?" Alex replied cheerfully as he spaced the food around the table and Mike poured more drinks for everyone. Once they were both sitting, Karen gestured for everyone to dig in, allowing her husband to make a mimosa for her.

Tatyana looked around the table and noticed something. "Where are Mrs. LeTourneau-Kjaer and Mrs. Kjaer-LeTourneau? I just noticed that they are not here, but I was certain that they were using a guest room last night."

"I took them home early this morning at their request, before any of you got up," Glenda mentioned. "They were both in pretty bad shape, but they said they wanted to go sleep it off in their own bed."

"Yeah, let's run with that excuse," Alexa giggled as she put cinnamon butter on her toast. "Oh, I meant to ask... what're in all those boxes in SB3-9?"

"Well, if you must know, costumes," Karen replied, adding fruit to her muesli. "Quite a few decades' worth, I believe."

"What, like Halloween costumes?" the blonde queried.

"It's more... nerdy... than that," Karen admitted. "They're outfits and costumes we've built and worn to various sci-fi and fantasy conventions over the years."

Alexa just stared at her sister as if someone had hit her 'Pause' button. It was some seconds before she spoke.

"Cosplay?" she asked, clearly bewildered. "Like that anime cosplay stuff Fre is always losing her mind about?"

"I guess so."

"You," Alexa said, her voice flat. "My big sissy, the most dignified woman I've ever met, has gone to nerd cons and cosplayed?"

"If you care to frame it in such terms, then yes," Karen replied, shrugging. "I have indeed accompanied my husband and my son to several sci-fi and fantasy enthusiast gatherings and I have indeed worn costumes, which people were very appreciative of."

"Mom makes a great Sister of Battle," Alex added, grinning.

"A what?" Valentina asked, pausing in eating her cereal.

Alex pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for some seconds before showing something to the housekeeper. Valentina's eyes went wide. "Oh, wow... that's awesome."

"And here's dad, in his Space Wolf terminator tactical dreadnought armour," Alex added, showing her another picture he'd flipped to.

"Eep..." was the tiny brunette's response, her eyes wide and her pupils small.

"I can't believe you would willingly do anything that nerdy, Kar," Alexa sighed, shaking her head.

"Why would I choose to be left out?" Karen asked simply. "A chance to prove my costuming and presentation skills are better than the masses around me? How is this any different than going to a Renaissance Faire, might one inquire?"

"I've passed on going to so many of those cons with Fre back in Europe, no matter how many times she asked," Alexa pointed out. "Too dorky."

Alexa showed his wife the picture of his father in his terminator armour.

"Okay, that's just ridic, even if it's not dorky," Alexa protested. "Aside from watching nerds dress up, what motivation could I possibly have to attend? Half the nerds don't even know how to cosplay as a hygienic person."

Alex showed her a quick series of pictures. Alexa looked at them intently.

"Okay, so the cosplay girls can be hot," she admitted. "But so what?"

"Like other geeks, they live for sex," Alex pointed out. "And they're very often bi and decidedly uninhibited."

"So..." the blonde girl mused. "You and I could be having sex with hot cosplay girls for an entire weekend?"

"Kar and I get laid like Mothra's eggs when we go," Mike added. He then noticed all the staff members looking at him in vague disbelief. "What?"

"So when's this convention, and what costumes am I wearing?" Alexa asked brightly, suddenly a big advocate of nerd events.

***

Mike's dorm room, 1987...

"Wow, lookin' great, M," Janet said, squatting down and filming the action in the middle of the room. By this point, she'd undressed herself, but was also resolved to not interfere with Mona's first time getting skewered on DeBourne's giant tool. "Keep it up, this is gold!"

As she filmed, Mike was lying on his back on the floor while Mona propped herself up over him in a crab stance, moaning as she pumped her hips up and down, taking his dick in and out of her wanton pussy, split wide by his girth. She was facing down his body and her legs were spread wide enough to give Janet's camcorder an excellent view of the action. DeBourne's cock glistened with her wetness, and Janet couldn't believe how turned on she was.

"Can't believe... it took me this long... to do this..." Mona panted as she bounced up and down, feeling like her insides were being gloriously split open by a baseball bat. The only thing she'd fucked that was close to this before was that champagne bottle back at Karen's place a few weeks earlier. "Gnnn, fuck!"

"I hear ya," Janet agreed, still filming and somehow resisting the urge to masturbate while she recorded. Mona shuddered as Mike's hands came up once again and began fondling and squeezing her breasts, making the black girl keen in wanton delight. "Guess y'don't blame me, right? Even if he was wearing those stupid tartan pants the first time we saw him?"

But Mona was no longer capable of answering. Her whole body shook and she groaned loudly, clenching her jaw as she strained. She clamped down on Mike's cock hard as she came again, this being her fourth orgasm, the second since he'd entered her. Her limbs gave out and she collapsed down onto his massive frame, her chest heaving. Her legs were still parted and he was deep inside her. He held her breasts and was pumping inside her, making her whimper and squirm.