Chapter 9: Margo

Thanksgiving dinner had been a triumph, and part of that success was due to Magda and Lori’s presentation on silver trays. It never ceased to surprise, and please, Margo that so many issues in the family, and House, were eased by laughter. Growing up, she hadn’t laughed much at home, and had viewed school far too seriously to get many chuckles from it. College had been different, and her flirtation with drugs had given her plenty of helpless laughter, but there had still been far too much riding on the result for her to laugh a lot. Medical school was even worse, though there were those incidents of humor so dark they almost absorbed light.

And then there’d been her first marriage ... many tears, almost zero laughs.

But since then, even in the worst of times, she found herself smiling more than she ever had before.

Thanksgiving had been their first meeting with Lori’s parents. Up until then, Lori had been a child of the Hold, and the Grimes had only dealt with Thad and Vida Newton, as heads of the Hold.

The Johengens had been quite a different matter.

They hadn’t been hostile, as Margo had feared. She’d been afraid they were angry about the arranged marriage, and she’d expected a tearful reunion with between them and their daughter.

Instead, they’d treated Lori as they did any other submissive in the house ... beneath their notice.

Margo had been curious about that, and had quietly inquired of Carol as to their behavior.

“It’s her lack of status. Thad or Vida could probably explain it better, but for now, she’s abandoned her family to take up with another, without any benefit to her family. That she will eventually be our bride is immaterial. Only when she’s wed to us will she become their beloved daughter again, and not some ungrateful child.”

“Bizarre...” mused Margo.

“Yes, love, but it’s the Karg. They’re their own kettle of fish.”

Still, Margo had found the Johengens, while somewhat wary, to be interested in House Chorale, and Chorale South itself, and to be interesting themselves as well. Alan had his own construction company, with a staff predominantly filled by members of the Hold, while Gracie Johengen worked full-time in the Hold as a teacher. Once Harry had broken the ice with a story about his abortive experience in the construction field, the two had proved to be good conversationalists, and good company as well.

Their future in-laws had seemed impressed by the household’s organization, although any attempt to credit Lori for her part in that had been met with indifference.

Alan and Gracie had also seemed somewhat puzzled by the relaxed tone of Dominant/submissive relations, although the two of them were consistently treated as honored guests, and with the utmost respect. Which also seemed to confuse them, when compared to how the family treated Nancy Velacourt.

“Where’s the hubby, Nancy?” Kelly asked.

“He’s being a shithead, as usual,” Nancy replied. “Given our House’s focus, Thanksgiving is observed, but more as a training exercise than an actual celebration.”

“So he’s training your girls today?” Margo said.

“Hell no,” Nancy replied. “The staff handles that. He’s getting his dick sucked by Tomoe, and watching football.”

“I get the feeling you have a lot more in common with us than with him,” Harry said.

“Undoubtedly! He and I are an example of a political marriage that’s not particularly successful.

“House Campbell, his family’s House, needed an influx of cash, and my parents needed a husband for me. That required a House willing to marry into Velacourt – not as easy to find as you might think.

“In the end, it was a bad bargain for both sides. I got Marvin, and Campbell ... well, my parents had been very clear that our arrangement was a one-time cash gift, not a continuing investment. Turns out Campbell’s House management was pathetic, they ended up needing far more than we paid, and they broke up.”

“So Houses do ... disband?” Kelly said.

“More often than is spoken of in polite Society,” Nancy replied. “The core family may stay together, playing on a small scale. And it’s not a case of any House being forced to disband ... or at least, it shouldn’t be. It’s a matter of pride.

“The House had problems of some kind. Dominants and submissives decide to go elsewhere, or they find they’ve over-extended themselves financially, which, as you can imagine, is all too easy to do, they can’t support as many people in the House ... and the House leadership decides rather than be a shadow of their former selves, they’ll disband. It’s viewed as unfortunate, not shameful.

“The alternative, however, is generally seen as shameful. Trying to carry on, limping along, hoping for yet another reversal of fortune to pull their fat out of the fire...

“Remember, Society is thinks in pretty much black-and-white terms. Either you are, or you are not ... not a lot of sympathy for the middle ground.”

“Rather barbaric, isn’t it?” Margo said. “I wonder if there’s anything we could do to change that, if only locally...”

Nancy Velacourt laughed with delight.

“My God, you really are a reformer, aren’t you? Of course there’s something you can do. Your House sets fashion, style, custom, but most of all, an example. If you let it be known you find Houses that have been forced to downsize acceptable, welcome ... well, hard-liners might not like it, but you can handle that. There’s such support of you and your ‘kinder, gentler Society’, you could walk into any House in the area and fuck their subs, and everyone involved would consider it your right. Hell, Chorale could get away with ‘prima nocta’, and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“Harry, don’t get any ideas,” Margo said.

Her husband leaned back.

“Not me you have to worry about,” he said, gesturing to Kelly, who was wearing an evil grin.

“Shame to not take full advantage of the privileges afforded us,” Kelly said.

Nancy laughed, and reached out to pull her daughter Magda into her lap. “Hello darling ... loved your presentation before supper. How are you?”

“Fine, Mama ... look, I’d love to visit, but as you can imagine, the kitchen is a disaster area. Talk later?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Nancy returned her attention to their hosts.

“Where were we? Ah, yes. So don’t worry about your acceptance of these unfortunate Houses affecting your position, you’ve got a long ‘honeymoon’ ahead of you. After years of Laney, you’d have to be real assholes to sour peoples’ opinions of you. Might I suggest a proclamation tomorrow night at Dominique’s?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Harry said, taking a seat by Nancy, and kissing her cheek. “You sure we can’t seduce you away from lovely young oriental women?”

“Afraid not, Harry,” Nancy said. “But you’re always welcome to try.”

The Johengens seemed happy to maintain their distance, a polite distance to be sure, but Margo caught them watching Nancy Velacourt and her family together, and thought she saw a trace of wistfulness in their expressions.

“Carol,” she asked quietly, “what’s going on with Alan and Gracie, can you tell?”

“They’re confused ... from what I’ve heard, this is the first outside marriage to a non-Karg House in a long time, if ever. They don’t know the rules because there aren’t any rules. Try to have them out here on a less public occasion, see if that doesn’t make things a little easier.”

Later in the evening, after the guests had begun to leave, Margo was relaxing while Radhika massaged her. It was, as always, a very relaxing and sensuous experience, but her mind was a million miles away. She’d realized earlier, in the conversation with Nancy, that she had great holes in her knowledge of the scene. It was important to know one didn’t know everything, but Margo had no idea how much she didn’t know, or how to find out.

“Radhika ... take a break for a while. I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, Madam.” Her maid knelt by the massage table.

“If you would, move where I can see you, please?”

The lovely young woman shifted to the floor at the head of the table.

“Much better ... Radhika, I’ve been proclaimed Queen, but I keep getting blind-sided by issues and practices I didn’t know about, and ... and it’s really brought home to me how ignorant I am about Society as a whole. I ought to have an idea, at least, of what I don’t know, so I can educate myself.

“I’m just not sure how to begin.”
“Madam, I know your mentor is gone, but you have a large pool of advisers, and potential advisers, to draw from. You do not strike me as someone afraid to let others help you. I think it would strengthen your position, as well as your subjects’ respect for you, if you called a meeting of the heads of your subject Houses, and asked for their help.”

“You are a treasure, Radhika. If you would, finish my massage, after which Master Grimes and I will reward you for your good advice.”

“Oh, thank you, Madam!”

Li Kuan

The gang was being far more careful, traveling in groups, so Li Kuan had been bored ... and she did not handle being bored well. She missed Puppy. Li Kuan even missed the chaos of House Chorale.

And of course she missed her beloved Madame.

In her boredom, several criminals, unrelated to her task, had made the trip to Wu’s pigs. She knew neither of her Dommes, Margo nor Minerva, would approve ... but they were not there, with Li Kuan.

Well, she’d heard some things that made her doubt ... it was certain Margo wasn’t there.

As far as the gang she was hunting, she remained patient. She would not push the issue. They would, in time, grow lax, and complacent ... they had little concept of discipline.

Or, if the gods she didn’t believe in were merciful, the members would all assemble in their lair at once, and she could end this hunt in on swift action.

Li Kuan continued to wait.

She awoke in tears that morning, and it frightened her, as Li Kuan had no idea why.

As she lay on the cheap bed, madly searching for a reason, it dawned on her.

It was Thanksgiving.

Li Kuan knew few would believe how important the holiday was for her former Madame, and her House. It was far more important than Christmas, more important than any other festive occasion, including Samhain and its Fetish Ball.

For Minerva, it had been the day to celebrate the people in her life, no matter how far removed, her Madame’s strongest acknowledgment that she was not an island. It was a day for family, and community.

And Li Kuan was completely cut off from any of either.

“Not completely, my dear.”

Li Kuan ignored that, as she had ignored such incidents before. So deep even she was unaware of it, she felt that to admit the truth of what she heard would be the beginning of madness.

She regarded her apartment’s kitchen with ill-disguised loathing. Even if she was so inclined, it was completely unsuited to preparing a proper holiday dinner. Indeed, it was only barely suited to produce any meal at all.

Li Kuan was resolved not to be one of those lost souls who ate a holiday dinner alone, in a restaurant.

“You’re coming with me, and you will behave.”

Ophelia was startled out of the book she was reading, and wondered again how Li Kuan could move so silently.

It was a measure of Ophelia’s growth that she stood up, and said, “I will behave, how should I dress?”

Before leaving the house, Li Kuan had collected another dinner companion, Angie Bolan. Harry’s ex had agreed to behave as well ... and although Li Kuan would have preferred to kill her, she could not bring herself to abandon anyone to the fate she herself was working so hard to avoid.

And Li Kuan couldn’t ignore the progress both women had made.

She was quiet during the cab ride to Aventure, and Ophelia and Angie took their lead from her. Li Kuan found herself in much closer physical proximity to two of the people she hated most in the world, and it was distinctly unpleasant.

Still, it was better than dining alone.

It was a sign of respect that Aventure still treated Li Kuan, and her companions, as if Madame Cornelius would be walking in at any moment.

The maitre d’ himself seating them, and said, “We were greatly saddened to hear of your companion’s passing. Please know that as long as the Moncreif family owns this restaurant, you will be afforded the same regard we held her in.”

Li Kuan was once again thankful for the reserve she had practiced all her life, as she would not let anyone present see her tears.

“That is most kind of the owners, you, and your staff,” Li Kuan replied. “Please, be sure everyone receives my thanks.”

“I will do so,” the maitre d’ replied.

“Please allow me to introduce my companions. This is Ophelia Cornelius, Madame’s niece, and Angie Bolan, a friend of the family.”

“Enchante,” the maitre d’ replied, and motioned a waiter to the table.

After their orders had been taken, Li Kuan said, “If either of you, by word or deed, bring shame upon Madame’s memory while here, I will kill you, and no body will ever be found.”

Angie looked at Ophelia with a questioning glance.

Ophelia nodded solemnly, and said nothing.

Once she had herself firmly under control, Li Kuan softened her demeanor.

“Ophelia, I noticed you reading. If I may ask, what was it?”
“It was “Practical Theories of Business Administration”,” Ophelia replied. “I’m studying it for the online course I’m taking. It was Mistress Velacourt’s suggestion. If I ever hope to manage Madame’s business properly, I should study.”

In spite of herself, Li Kuan was impressed.

“Are you finding it interesting?” she asked.

“Yes ... and that surprises me,” Ophelia replied. “It’s a three-month course, and just began, so no tests yet, but Mistress Velacourt has been quizzing me, and she says I’m doing well.”

Li Kuan smiled, surprised by a hint of warmth in her feelings for Ophelia.

“Excellent ... I’m sure your aunt would be pleased as well. And you, Angie, how are you doing?”

Angie Bolan’s eyes were moist.

“Well, it’s been ... well, I’m more blessed than I deserve. Misato, one of Mistress Velacourt’s girls, drives me to meetings whenever I need to go, and ... I’ve been keeping my head down, and working hard.” She paused. “Thank you for allowing me the opportunity.”

Li Kuan smiled, albeit somewhat stiffly.

“I am glad your new position is working out for you. I’m sure Master Janak will be pleased as well ... when he returns.”

The dinner was pleasant, although further conversation was almost non-existent.

Li Kuan couldn’t fault her companions. They had little in common with her, and were frightened besides.

Still, she found their presence enough to raise her spirits, and when dessert and coffee had been ordered, Li Kuan attempted to put them at ease.

“I want to thank you for your company today. This holiday was ... sacred ... for Madame Cornelius, and I could not stand the thought of any of us being alone, or facing the prospect of a holiday meal by ourselves. It was simply too depressing to tolerate.”

“Thank you for the invitation, and such a fine dinner,” Ophelia replied. “I’m afraid Angie and I were going to end up calling out for pizza.”

Angie smiled.

“That wouldn’t make it the worst Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. Pizza and company,” she said, her eyes darting to Ophelia, and back again, “isn’t so bad, but yes, thank you. This is much nicer.”

Li Kuan’s guests actually relaxed enough to talk about work in front of her. She wisely listened, and found out things were prospering under Mistress Velacourt’s management. She wasn’t running things as Minerva had, but that was to be expected. The business certainly wasn’t being ignored, or mismanaged.

It surprised Li Kuan to find she was pleased Ophelia and Angie were happy ... and if she wasn’t mistaken, they found each other attractive, and desirable.

While such predilections would shock no one in Chorale, she thought the idea of those particular two women finding joy with each other might raise an eyebrow or twenty.

In the spirit of the day, Li Kuan found she couldn’t object to anyone finding some happiness, not even these two.

You are growing, my Beloved.

Neither of her guests understood the silent tears trickling down Li Kuan’s cheeks. She did not explain, and they did not dare ask.

Jason

Thanksgiving was going to be the first truly relaxed, and happy holiday Jason could enjoy since his father had passed. With his mother’s second husband, there had always been tension, and since then, things between he and his mother had been strained, and became more distant every time they spent much time together.

Now things were better.

As long as he acted like an adult, he was, for the most part, treated like one. With Abby’s help, he’d come to realize just how different adulthood was from how he’d pictured it. Acting like an adult didn’t mean freedom so much as it meant responsibility. It had become clear to him the better he handled his responsibilities, the more freedom he’d enjoy.

For the moment, his responsibilities consisted of learning, and studying, a lot – and treating people well, particularly his mother, Abby, Donna, and Dayna. That wasn’t hard – as Abby told him frequently, his mother had raised him right.

As for people other than the three closest to him, he just tried not to mess up, which was both easier, and harder, than he’d expected.

It was the nudity at Chorale South that gave him issues ... much to Dayna’s amusement.

He was getting better about wearing nothing but skin around the house ... so long as Dayna or Abby was with him. If his mother was involved, he wouldn’t go anywhere with her unless they both were dressed. And Donna ... well, he and Donna didn’t get out much, on those rare occasions she was visiting.

Going out naked, on his own ... that wasn’t going to happen.

And while he understood he was an out of control hormone factory, liable to get an erection over nothing at all ... he was in a huge mansion, filled to the brim with beautiful, naked women. He knew there were others there as well, but they really didn’t register with him the way the constant parade of pulchritude did.

The adults were keeping the sex behind closed doors, thankfully, but the women were everywhere. It was all fine and good for Dayna to tell him everyone understood, and if he stopped treating it like a big deal, it wouldn’t be a big deal...

Jason was excited about Thanksgiving, because everyone would be clothed.

And then Donna called.

“I think you should have Thanksgiving with us at the Karghold.”

“Uh, are people going to be ... clothed?”

“No, why should they be?”

The ride out to the Karghold was uncomfortable for Jason. He was picked up by two, very fit young men, Paul and Sam, he hadn’t met before.

They’d been on the road a while when Paul said, “So, Jason ... you want to marry our sister...”

Jason had foolishly believed his day couldn’t get any worse.

“Yes, that’s our plan,” he replied, hoping the ‘our’ would make his disaster of a day a little better.

There was an uncomfortably long silence.

Jason felt the odds of the two of them stopping the car, taking him out, killing him, and dumping his body grew with every second.

And there were a lot of seconds.

And minutes.

Until finally, Sam said, “Good God, Jason, you’re a braver man than me. She’s a mean one.”

“Vicious,” Paul agreed. “Donna grew up with the two of us giving her a hard time every chance we could. She had to get mean. We made her life a living hell.”

“If she ever gets angry,” Sam said, “guard your balls, that’s all I’m saying.”

“If I were Jason, I’d guard my balls anyway,” Paul said. “No one’s supposed to know how people do in Sex Ed except the instructors, but I’m real good friends with Bob. He said she had real problems with the sensitivity of the male anatomy. Bob thought he’d end up in the hospital a time or two. Just a word to the wise, man. I’ve never seen balls as swollen as Bob’s ... pray I never do again.”

Sam shook his head sadly.

“I love her, she’s my sister and all ... but I’m a little frightened of her too.”

Jason knew they were just trying to scare him.

He hoped they were just trying to scare him.

Jason so wanted to take the out he’d been given. Donna had said he didn’t have to undress if it bothered him.

It really bothered him.

Especially around Donna’s parents ... although seeing Vida Newton nude, he realized Donna, already awesome, was just going to get sexier ... lusciously, delectably sexier.