Mike & Karen Ch. 25

You relentless, oversized aurochs, Karen muttered darkly inside her mind as she scowled while looking at DeBourne. How can you be sitting and writing so diligently through this tripe? I won't stand for it!

Mike kept listening and writing while he drank, happy for the water. He noticed a girl's head nod down onto a desk, the sweet embrace of brain death claiming yet another victim. That made at least fifteen who had nodded off thanks to Horvath's unholy pact with Somnus, the god of sleep. There was one other person in the room, aside from himself, he had faith would not nod off. She was far too diligent.

He glanced over toward where she was sitting and immediately choked and spewed his water over the two rows in front of him.

Gordon had been leaning forward toward her desk just slightly, resting her cheek on her right hand. The left hand had deftly undone her silk blouse and with a finger tugged it forward and open just enough to expose one of her large, perfect (and braless) breasts to him, all while subtly looking his way, her eyes locking with his while her chin rested on her hand.

The entire lecture was disrupted as he coughed and sputtered, several students yelped in shock when he showered them in his backwash. Everyone else in the hall was now looking his way, and even old Horvath had become aware of the commotion and paused in his lecture to look up at the titan student.

"Is there a problem, Mr. DeBourne?" the professor asked, his bushy white eyebrows arching.

"No-no, sir," Mike said hastily, trying to clean himself up while the students he'd spewed on all turned and glared up at him. "I just... I just choked on my water, I'm so sorry."

"First day with the new mouth, DeBourne?" the student immediately in front of him groused, scowling back up at him. A scowling would be as good as it got, since Mike was a source of terror for much of the male student body. The boy muttered and started wiping himself down before returning to the lecture, already resumed by Professor Horvath. Others around the room were whispering to one another, snickering and giggling about what had happened.

Except for Gordon. She'd already done her blouse back up and was seemingly watching the lecture intently, as if nothing had happened.

Only the tiny crease of a smirk at the corner of her mouth and the glint of mirth in her eyes gave her away.

***

Back at the Manor, present day...

"C'mon," Valentina whined, bouncing up and down, hoping the pneumatic effect this had on her figure would help further her cause. "Can't you jus' let me take a tiny peek?"

"Nothin' doin', short-stuff," Andrea said somewhat lazily as she used her drill to fix a solid brass latch into the stout wooden door frame. The room behind her was blocked from sight by an opaque tarp. "Orders from the queen, nobody gets in here to have a look before it's ready."

"But you, Dave an' Ari get to see it," Val protested, still bouncing, knowing her big tits jiggling in her tiny outfit was getting to Andrea, even if the tall, rangy blonde was pretending to ignore it. "How's that fair?"

"Because we're the ones who're putting it all together, doofus," Andrea laughed. She enjoyed having Val around, she was incredibly entertaining, and wonderful to look at. "I'm workin' on the wires and plumbing, Dave's doin' the woodworking and refurbishing, and Ari's hookin' up the electronics and making sure it's all fed through the security system. Give it another week or so, it won't kill you."

"Fiiine," Val groused, leaning back against the wall opposite the door and going through the motions of sulking. "As long as I'm not the only one who doesn't get to see, I guess."

"Nobody except me, Dave, Ari, and Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne," Andrea confirmed, nodding as she worked, holding screws in her lips. "Not even Tatyana's been in here since we began the job."

"It's kinda neat to think we're gonna have our own private lounge," Val allowed, crossing her arms under her breasts, magnificently showcased in her scandalous French maid outfit that she habitually wore. The top of the outfit barely covered her nipples, leaving the wide swathes of creamy skin above them exposed and bordered in white lace. The corset below kept her already trim figure in place; the black skirt was likewise very short, and her panties were flashed with each ripple of the material around her shapely hips. Her legs were encased in sheer black nylons held in place by lace garters, and her dainty feet were slipped into glossy black heels. The outfit was surprisingly comfortable for her, she didn't understand why Trilby, her co-worker and the senior housekeeper, didn't want to wear one like it. "Mistress told me it's almost exactly like the Old Lounge downstairs, just smaller."

"Well, I'll confirm that much for you," Andrea said readily, fixing a screw in place. Val loved watching the muscles in Andrea's shoulders work as she did her thing. She wasn't super buff or anything, but she was as strong as Dave was, for sure. She wore a set of coveralls that had gotten progressively sparer over the months they'd been working together, to the point where the top was simply two denim straps that went over her strong shoulders and held the pants in place. If she hadn't been wearing one of her tank tops, the straps would've covered the nipples of her big tits and little else- not that Val minded. "I think everyone's gonna love it. When we all knock off for the evening, we can come here and kick back, be ourselves."

"Tril said it's also a smoking lounge?" Valentina inquired. How on earth was that supposed to work? None of their employers smoked, and to the best of her knowledge, no one on staff did, except for Dave, and those were his Cuban cigars. And Trilby with her weed. Val thought Tril was really funny and cute when she relaxed and got high. Hey, it was legal, right?

"Yep," the blonde woman said, nodding again, testing the hinge. "Once we've got the fan and air filtration system in place, Dave oughta be able to smoke his cigars in one part of the room, and it won't bother anyone in another part. Same with Trilby and her joints. The filtration system is the same one with the charcoal filters we use in the compassion greenhouse, so we know it works. It also has a dedicated port, so there's little or no sharing of air with other rooms. The lounge'll be one or two degrees cooler than the rest of the house, but that won't be a big deal."

"I dunno," Val said, unconvinced. "I get cold kinda easily, goosebumps on my tits and all."

"Like I said, not a big deal," Andrea quipped, making Val roll her eyes and then giggle. "But yeah, it's gonna be great to have our own space, so it doesn't feel like we're always imposing on our employers, right? I know they don't mind, but it's gonna make life easier all around, I figure."

"Still so many rooms to go, too," Val sighed, thinking about the future. This Manor was coming to life, and each day she seemed to find out about some new plan. Right now, there just seemed to be tons of empty rooms, and... space. The enormous back lot was being revitalized with gardens and lovely features. A white marble gazebo near the Victorian garden had been brought out of a long hibernation and restored. Farther toward the back of the lot, apiaries would be put in place, near the endless wildflowers that had been planted in the vast swards of space between properties in the Bridle Path neighbourhood. "They moved more video game consoles into that gaming room today."

"Mmm, I hope they took my suggestion and got Gauntlet," Andrea mumbled, adjusting the hinge slightly. "My older brothers played that game obsessively, and I wanted to so bad, but never got to."

"Iono, I can barely play Space Invaders without getting my ass kicked," Val said, shrugging. "Still, I wouldn't mind watching you play. Might be fun."

"You just wanna try to look inside my top while I'm moving around," Andrea laughed. "You're not foolin' me, Prospero."

"Oh, like you wouldn't loom over me while I was playing, just to watch my tits jiggle, is that it?" Val shot back.

"Guilty as charged and not feelin' at all bad about it," Andrea said simply, finishing the job and wiping her brow as she paused and turned to look at her co-worker while she leaned in the door frame. "Workin' here is pretty amazing, isn't it?"

The smaller girl nodded. "Yeah, every day there's something new. I feel like I'm surrounded by history, and allowed to live in a posh and cozy museum."

Andrea nodded. "I get a lady boner when I'm around all the classic cars. Theresa overheard Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne talking casually about a Botticelli painting they own. Another just got auctioned off for over ninety mill. They didn't even blink. I can't imagine that life."

Valentina thought on what Andrea had said. "I think that's the big painting on the north wall upstairs, but I'm not certain. I know it's behind a treated laminate to protect it from exposure damage. And yeah, talkin' casually about a piece of art that expensive is kinda nuts."

"It doesn't bother you?" asked the mechanic.

Val shrugged. "It certainly would've, and did, when it was my former employers, the Duncolms. They were very stuck-up and pretentious. All these works of art around us now are part of some legacy trust, they can't just sell 'em for a profit. And it's not like they need the money."

Andrea considered. "Knowin' those two, they'd probably just donate the auction proceeds to a charity, wouldn't they? That sounds like them more than just grubbing the money. They're very generous."

The Italian girl nodded. "Even that sword they gave to Lexi a little bit back was worth a small fortune, I bet, since it's a genuine historical artifact."

"Oh, so it's 'Lexi' now, is it?" Andrea teased, smirking and making Val blush. "So is it really that amazing? Sex with our bosses, I mean."

Val went a shade of embarrassed pink from her ears to where her ample tits disappeared into her abbreviated outfit. "I... I shouldn't talk about that, Andrea. They're my Master and Mistress, y'know."

"We all know, Val, and we're happy for you," Andrea said, smiling. "I mean, I've fucked around with their friends, Freja and Jeanie. We kinda do it often. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't get wet every time I thought about Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne. I mean, how could I not?"

The maid nodded, understanding what her friend meant. "Yeah, it's really, really good. And yeah, I was a virgin before they took me, but even then, a girl knows when she's getting the good stuff. It can't not be, y'know?"

"Well, no, since you've been hoggin' it all to yourself," Andrea laughed, enjoying teasing Val. She stood up and sauntered over to the smaller girl, standing in front of her and smiling down at her. Andrea was considerably taller than Val, who was the shortest member of the staff. Andrea was as tall as Dave, both of them around the same height as the Gordon-Blackwell women, maybe a nick shorter. Andrea's tits were about the same size as Val's, but Val's looked bigger on her tiny frame. Not that Andrea minded. "'sides, not like we haven't shared a kiss, right? Remember during the intermission between rounds two and three during paintball?"

"Do I," Val breathed, nodding, feeling a tingle with Andrea standing so very close to her. "I thought you were gonna suck my tonsils out."

She stood a little taller and pressed her breasts gently against Andrea's, her brown eyes meeting Andrea's green-blue ones. "How 'bout this... you gimme a peek inside the lounge, and I'll let you try to suck 'em out again."

Andrea considered. "I dunno," she said in a noncommittal voice. "I made a promise to Tatyana that nobody would-"

She was interrupted when Valentina took her by the cheeks and pulled her face down to kiss her, deeply and warmly. Val's tongue wrestled with Andrea's for some moments, and she felt the Italian girl's plush breasts squash into her own. Several seconds passed before Val let go and Andrea stood up again, almost gasping for breath, her eyes wide.

"Jesus," she breathed, tasting the flowery mints on Val's breath. "They taught you all that already?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Val winked, wiping the corner of her mouth with a finger as she looked up at her co-worker. "So how 'bout it? You lemme look for thirty seconds, and then you can drag me into any room you like and try to find out what they've really shown me."

"Shit, girl, y'don't need to ask me twice..." Andrea said readily, pulling a giggling Valentina by the hand and taking her through the tarp into the forbidden lounge beyond.

***

Down on the main floor, in the Grand Library...

"I can't believe how many books there are in this place," Trilby said as she walked about, doing her rounds of cleaning and dusting. She wore a rather standard housekeeping uniform, at least in comparison to Valentina's. It was the expected black, with white lace borders, but decidedly more modest, with a skirt that almost reached her knees, and the top terminated well above her neckline, as opposed to Val's, which plunged over her breasts. Then again, Trilby didn't have nearly as much to show off as Val. "There must be as many books in here as a public library."

"Eh, a small one, maybe," Alex allowed, sitting in a plush chair and reading one of his course books, this one on the Linear A language. He enjoyed talking to Trilby, since they'd led such different lives. She was only about seven or eight years older than him. "I take it there weren't a lot of books on the commune?"

"Oh, lemme think," Trilby said, pausing and making a show of ruminating by tapping her finger against her cheek. "Most books were used as door and window stops, only a few were really valued. Those were... 'Our Bodies, Ourselves'... 'The Joy of Sex'... anything by Kerouac or Vonnegut... and of course, 'Zen And The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance'. That was about it, unless I had 'em stashed under my pillow to read at night. But that was just like The Pokey Little Puppy and stuff."

"Hey, you were reading, that's the important thing," Alex said cheerfully, bringing a secret smile to Trilby's face as she turned away, ostensibly to dust something. "Was it tough to make it through education if you lived on a commune?"

Trilby blushed again, pausing in her work. "I... because we had a designated lifestyle, I never really went to a formal grade school or high school. I'm not proud of it, even though I learned to read, write, do math and all that. My education is completely informal. I gotta admit, I was amazed I got this gig at all."

"Hey, Jordan knew you were right for the job," Alex pointed out. "He's got amazing intuition, and I agree with him. You've been awesome since you got here, Trilby."

She was silent for a few moments. "Thank you."

"Y'know, if it bothers you to not be formally educated, my mom and dad'll no doubt pay for you to get your diplomas," the young man said, closing his book. "High school, OAC, whatever. They'd even pay for post-secondary if you wanted to try something."

"You serious?" the hippie girl asked, her eyes stinging behind the John Lennon shades she habitually wore. She played it cool, but not one single element of this job had been what she expected when she arrived. It was... so much better. "Why would they do that?"

"To thank you, of course," Alex said easily. "And I get it if people with money, the elite, were always the enemy when you were growing up, but my parents believe in obligation to society, Trilby. I have no idea what you want to do, but I am certain they'd help."

She shrugged. "To be honest, once I was thinkin' of leaving the commune, all I ever wanted to do was own a little New Age shop, a little place with all sorts of Pagan and Wiccan stuff, crystals and herbs and so on. I've always been interested in that thing."

Alex thought about that. "So you need to get to know the right people in the field of New Age, and you need to get small business management under your belt. Pretty sure mom and dad could get you enrolled in courses you could take right here. You wouldn't even need to move or stop working if you didn't want to."

Trilby turned and looked at him in wonder. "D'you really think that-"

"Alex?" Alexa chimed in her lyrical voice as she came into the library. She was wearing form-fitting jeans and a snug tie-dye t-shirt fringed with beads. Her long, voluminous golden-blonde hair hung down almost to the back of her knees, an occasional tiny braid threaded through it. "Y'got a sec?"

Alex looked over at Trilby, who shrugged and then gestured for him to continue talking to his wife. "What's up?" he asked.

The blonde goddess was wearing a somewhat wry expression. "Did you clip a small leather strap around Morgenmuffel's tail? One that has four weird stegosaurus-like spikes on it?"

"Really?" Alex almost exclaimed, sitting up and looked excited. "He's still wearing his thagomizer? That's awesome!"

"Why did you put a thago... whatever, on his tail at all?" his aunt-wife asked. "I've been trying to remove it for like an hour now and he won't let me take it off. He's just sauntering around, swishing his tail proudly."

"That... sounds dangerous," Trilby said uneasily, picturing the cat with dinosaur spikes on his tail. "He likes to hang out next to a bunch of collectibles from some Chinese kingdom from a zillion years ago. He makes me nervous when he isn't armed."

"Who's been armed near my Song Dynasty collection that I brought back from China?" Karen inquired as she walked into the library, her lovely brow creasing as she sensed trouble. She was wearing breezy, crème-coloured gauze pants, and a silk cheongsam-influenced shirt, dark blue and a bold orange in colour, partitioned diagonally. "Alex, what have you done?"

"Me?" Alex protested.

"He put stegosaurus spikes on Morg, now I can't get fuzzbutt to let me take them off," Alexa said, ratting out her husband.

Karen looked at her son, her eyes narrowing. "You thagomized my baby sister's cat? Alex, you know he likes to hang out near my Song Dynasty collection, the lead tint in the paints complement his darker fur."

"Well I didn't know that," Alex muttered. "How was I supposed to?"

"The fact that you chose not to observe and conclude the perfectly obvious is of no consequence, child," Karen announced dismissively, gesturing with her hand now. "Alex, one of those teacups was crafted by Emperor Zhao Bing himself at the tender age of seven, right before the Song Dynasty fell to the Mongols."

"Yeah, yeah, the battle of Yamen," he sighed, standing up because he knew he was in trouble. "I know that part well enough."

"Well unless you want to end up mortared into the Great Wall like the tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers that the Great Khan took prisoner, I suggest you see to the issue," Karen said firmly, crossing her arms under her large breasts, her gaze locked on her son, like golden lasers. "You weaponized the little fuzzball, you disarm him. And leave your aunt's cat alone from now on."

"Hey, she's my wife too, y'know," Alex huffed.

"Maybe you should let her decide that," Karen replied, looking at Alexa. "What do you think, Alli? Husband or nephew?"

Alexa considered and shook her head. "Nephew," she said finally. "It sounds like less of a mistake, at least right now."

The little group left, discussing how they might possibly de-thagomize Morgenmuffel, before he destroyed priceless and irreplaceable Chinese history. Trilby just looked on silently until they were all gone.

"My job is so weird..." she sighed, returning to dusting underneath Lady Thunderhawk's tits.

***

1987, a campus cafeteria...

Mike was sitting at a table by himself, assiduously reading a chapter about ferromagnetic spin equations when he heard familiar chatter somewhere behind him. He paused in his reading and waited while the little group approached. As Karen pulled up a seat at the edge of the table and sat down, she seemed as prim and proper as ever, no hint at all of her flashing her breast at him the day before. During class, of all times! The woman was a maddening dichotomy wrapped within a paradox wrapped within an enigma wrapped in cashmere.