Chapter 13: The Grimes Wedding To Lori And Magda

Harry

It had been difficult, but he’d avoided drinking too much the night before.

That said, there was some question as to the specific amount which would qualify as ‘too much’. It was a slippery variable. So, Harry was hung-over, just nowhere near as hungover as he’d been other mornings.

He lay in bed, surrounded by bodies, and dreaded moving. Bladder aside, he wasn’t sure there were any valid reasons for him to move any time soon. If they wanted him at the wedding, they could damn well dress him, and carry him there. That it was his own wedding didn’t enter into the equation.

But they could dress, and carry, slowly ... and quietly.

“Master ... Master...”

Harry realized, just in time, that Camille didn’t deserve the snarl he was about to let loose. He counted to ten, and replied, “Yes, dear?”

“Time to get up. There’s a carafe of apple juice, and aspirin, waiting for you by your bath.”

“How thoughtful...”

“Should I run some water where you can hear it? Help your bladder wake you up?”

Harry groaned.

“You know me too well. Currently, that’s annoying as hell.”

Camille smiled, as he shook Esther awake, so as to have a path to the edge of the bed.

“C’mon, honey,” he said. “These damn morning people insist we get moving.”

“Nnnnnnnmmmmm...”

“I know, I don’t want to either.”

“Mmmm...”

He pinched her butt, and grinned as she yelped, and hopped off the bed.

“All right, to the toilet, to the bath ... Esther, do me a favor. After you tend to your necessaries, run down to the kitchen, or the nearest coffee service, and get me a cup ... make that several cups ... see if anyone has a liter mug...”

“Yes, sir,” she said, scampering off to the bathroom.

“Taking bets if she’ll be finished before I limp in there?”
“No,” Camille laughed. “She will. Let’s get you mobile, Master.”

His morning bath had been lovely, and long. Courtesy of the juice, aspirin, coffee, and bath, he’d come out of the bathroom feeling much better than he had when he’d gone in.

And at that point, his day had no longer been his own.

Camille and Piglet had dressed him, and shuttled him down to breakfast with the future in-laws. Afterward, he and his spouses had ‘held court’ in the ballroom, visiting with whomever wanted to sit for a spell.

Those visits were often far too political for his taste, and he’d only paid cursory attention – enough to respond intelligently, to convince their guests he cared, but not enough to convince his spouses of the same thing.

It amused him to think their honeymoon, at least this honeymoon, was less about them, and the two lovely young women they were marrying, than it was an opportunity to forge yet more political alliances. The next honeymoon, their real honeymoon ... five weeks with no politics, little to no staff, just relaxing, and sex.

Lots of sex.

Not that sex would be lacking during the two weeks in Chicago. His three current spouses would see to that, one way or another. Harry was pretty sure Kelly was about ready to go all kinds of crazy with Lori and Magda.

But there was going to be politicking.

By the way their current discussions were going, lots of it.

Tamara

Despite having her role to play in the wedding, Tamara was still holed up in her family’s suite, her eyes glued to the television, with Merry and Annie Beth, aware of news probably no one else in the family was.

She watched CNN daily, looking for news from Pyanmar, and that morning she’d gotten some.

Overnight, the country’s Buddhist monks, and a large number of its university’s students, had begun protests across the country.

The military junta controlling the government was reacting as they always did – the military was crushing the student protesters under waves of heavily armed riot police, beating them bloody and dragging them off to the very jails Eddie and his people were so desperate to avoid.

The monks were handled far more gently, as the nation was Buddhist, but to jail they went as well. The riot squads wouldn’t be called in on the monks unless they started self-immolating, or otherwise aggressively grabbing headlines.

It was a dangerous time in Pyanmar, and all foreigners were advised to remain indoors, off the streets.

“Milady, it’s time to get ready. Master is safe and sound at the embassy – nowhere near the protests,” Merry said, gently shaking her shoulder.

“Thank God,” Tamara said, smiling sadly. “I never thought I’d be glad he was still trapped there.”

Eddie

The compartment in the bottom of the truck bed was barely high enough for him to fit, and breathing was uncomfortable.

It was made doubly, perhaps even triply, so by the load of manure in the bed.

The compartment he, Perry, and Ike Abromowitz’s second in command, Larry Sylvester, occupied had air holes in the bottom, which meant a lot of dust, and they were thankful for their filter masks. But the paper masks didn’t do anything at all to stop the smell of sun-roasted shit from above.

The protests had been a godsend, and Ike had gotten them moving within an hour.

It was a long goddamn way to the Indian border, but at last they were on the road.

Lori

A marriage with political overtones had always been in her cards. She’d expected it, because the matriarchal realities of her Karghold’s iteration demanded it.

If her Hold had been of the more common iteration ... well, she would have run from the life as fast as she could, the very moment she was given a chance. They were barbarians ... no, worse than that, the most common breed of Karg were truly sub-human, and any woman stupid enough to put up with their idiocy deserved whatever she got. Lori hoped her Hold’s interpretation of the Karg novels would spread, outgrow, and outlast, the more common kind.

Her father, Al, had told her not to hold her breath. She didn’t think he was wrong, but she still held out hope.

But she’d expected to be married to another family within their Hold, or in another similar Hold, elsewhere. Instead, she was being wed to the Grimes, to Chorale.

Nothing in her past had led her to expect anything like this.

She and Magda had talked about what their place in the family would be, after the Come-To-Jesus meeting they’d had with their senior spouses. Here, well, at least they still ran the kitchen, even if Master and Mistress Culberson had taken over the majority of house management. Once they moved back to town? They’d have to make their own place in the household.

There was no doubt it would be Carol’s house ... no doubt whatsoever.

But, there were other houses in the Corral, and other duties.

“How are you at training submissives?” Lori asked Magda, as they both enjoyed Mimosas in the Bridal Pavilion.

“It’s what my House does,” Magda replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Trying to figure our places in the Corral. I was talking to Harry yesterday at the reception, and he was pretty open to us taking any duties that aren’t already nailed down ... like Carol being Milady of the House. If you take submissive training as yours, and I take security as mine, we have places.”

“Shit ... I pity whoever marries in next. They better have some specialized training in, like, cooking or something.”

“Not our problem,” Lori said. “We figured ours out. They’re gonna have to do the same.”

Magda

“Mom...”

“Yes, darling daughter?”

Magda had asked her mother to join her in a walk, to ‘get some air’. Nancy Velacourt knew that meant she wanted to talk.

“I wasn’t...” Magda began. “You raised me to expect such a marriage, and the Grimes are a far better fit than I imagined most of the time. I have no right to be disturbed by this, or upset...”

“But you are,” Nancy replied.
“Yeah.”

“It’s to be expected. And after all the ... upset ... over your positions, I’m surprised you haven’t asked to back out of this.”

“Mother! I would never bring shame to our House that way!”

Nancy chuckled.

“Fair enough. I retract my words. Let me say I’m surprised you haven’t come to me to have this talk before now.”

“I’ve been too damned busy. When we were running the house, even just dealing with the kitchen, I’ve hardly had an hour free to think without using it for sleep.”

Magda blushed, thinking of a long stretch of hours where she wasn’t thinking about anything but Jason, Donna, and Lori. She hoped her mother didn’t notice.

“So, do you want me to pull you out of this,” Nancy asked.

Magda was quiet for a moment, then answered, “No. I just need you to ... I need you to hug me, and tell me everything’s going to be all right.”

“Of course, darling,” Nancy replied, hugging her daughter tightly.

Harry

“Well, this is fucking romantic,” Harry said, looking at what served the purpose of a pre-nup.

“Romance isn’t what’s at question,” Alan Johengen growled. “Are the terms acceptable?”

“Of course, Alan,” Margo purred. “This has all been worked out with our lawyers, and we’ve all agreed. It is our wedding day, though, and from what I understand, wedding days should have a hint of romance, at least.”

“I suppose,” Alan grumbled.

“Fine,” Harry said, sitting down. He waved over their lawyer, Mr. Daggett, and his daughter. “You’re witnesses. Mattie, you’re a notary, get your seal ready.”

Ten minutes later, all parties had signed, the documents had been witnessed, and notarized.

While everyone else celebrated, albeit in a reserved fashion, Harry leaned back in his chair, and muttered to Camille and Esther, “Everything else today is just theater.”

Harry found it somewhat telling he wasn’t particularly looking forward to bedding either of the family’s new brides. He didn’t find the idea revolting by any stretch of the imagination ... but he was far more interested in Carol, Margo, and Kelly.

As the build-up to the ceremony whirled around him while he, and his spouses, sat in what was not really the Groom’s Pavilion, he said, “You know, by the time all this is over tonight, I’m going facedown in my pillow. Fuck honeymoon nights, I’m already too tired to care about such things.”

“Don’t feel bad, Father,” Jason said. “The three of us did the same thing last night. We thought it would only be a nap, turned out none of us stirred until about 8 this morning.”

“Then we had the mad monkey sex,” Donna said, laughing. “We figured there will be plenty of time for that during the honeymoon proper. Yesterday, we were all worn out.”

“I imagine so,” Harry said, grinning. “Not to mention the release of all the pre-wedding tension. I imagine when all the adrenaline left your systems you crashed hard.”

“Oh yeah,” Jason said. “I sort of woke up after about four hours, wondered why my arm was hurting. Realized I hadn’t moved since I lay down, and it was trapped under ... one of my ladies.”
“Oh, good save, Sir,” Abby said, kissing his cheek.
“Yeah, very well handled, Sir,” Donna agreed.
“You’re learning, son,” Harry said. “Never believe that your submissives are toothless. Potentially offending them, other than during playtimes, can come back and bite you in the ass.”

“Oh, yes sir,” Jason replied. “While Abby never made my life difficult if I screwed up, Donna...”

“I think you might want to end that sentence right there,” Harry laughed.
“I think so, too,” Jason said.

“I feel it’s my duty to aid in my Master’s education,” Donna intoned demurely. “Better he learn now, then run into difficulties later. Others might not be so forgiving as Abby.”

“Notice she didn’t say “Abby and I”? You’re in trouble, son,” Harry said.

“Yeah, stuck my foot in it this time,” Jason agreed.

Donna sat with her head bowed, and smiled.

The ceremony was a blur for Harry. He found he hadn’t been overstating his fear when he spoke with Jason. He was scared.

Harry just wasn’t sure what he was scared of, precisely. Standing with his spouses, awaiting the arrival of their brides, the seriousness of their situation once again became clear. Their play time, this hobby of a lifestyle, had cost lives. He considered asking if any of his spouses just wanted to cut and run with him ... and was frightened by either answer he might get.

His best friend was effectively a prisoner in Pyanmar, his family was threatened, Li Kuan was fuck knew where, and all Harry wanted to do was run away to some place he, and his family, could truly relax.

The brides were escorted up the aisle, and Harry was bemused by the bright red scarves they wore.

Then, everything happened all too quickly, and the wedding was over, vows exchanged, and it was time to move on to the reception ... where Harry had no doubt there would be more goddamned politicking.

Carol

For someone as empathic as Carol, the weddings tended to be on the overwhelming side. So much emotion, so many people.

She smiled. Still, it was a chance to enjoy a party, and dance with her spouses ... including the new ones.

“So, has this been everything you expected?” she asked Magda as they held each other, semi-waltzing across the dance floor.
“Everything I expected in a wedding, yes. Everything I expected as far as spouses...”

“I understand. Political marriages aren’t easy.”

“No. It’s what Mother prepared me for, and I’m happy to be the link between Chorale and Velacourt, but I was expecting a more ... traditional House. Chorale is so large, and so newly established.” Magda paused, almost stopping her dancing as well. “I wonder at the wisdom of allying so closely with a House that at times has seemed as if it will dissolve before year’s end.”

Magda looked surprised by Carol’s answering laughter.

“I see your point, Magda darling. I have no doubt our House will survive, but to someone still effectively on the outside? We must look like an ongoing car crash sometimes.”

Carol felt some of Magda’s tension releasing, and smiled to herself as they continued to dance.

“You seem to be having a good day,” Carol said to Margo as they danced together.

“Not a bad one, certainly. Weddings are a happy thing,” Margo continued, “and it’s good to have strengthened our position this easily.”

Carol looked at the pavilions surrounding the dance floor, the catering, the decorations, the guests, the sheer logistical nightmare of two weddings in two days, and smiled. It was amazing Margo had become able to look at such an undertaking as ‘easy’. Not too long before, Margo had been on the ragged edge over the ‘Coronation’ party.

“You’ve grown, my love,” Carol said. “You’re handling all this much better than you might have earlier.”

Margo laughed.

“Adapt or die, my love. And it helps that very little of this event has been mine to worry about. It’s the Karghold and House Velacourt’s to plan.”

“True enough – but something not being yours to worry about hasn’t always kept you from worrying anyway,” Carol said.

“I love you, wise woman.”

“Love you, too, my wife.”

Carol and Kelly didn’t talk much until after their dance – they’d both been far too busy throwing themselves at each other while “I Wanna Be Sedated” played.

Afterward though, they had sat together, sucking down water, and cooling off.

Carol noticed Kelly’s eyes following every move little Lori made.

“You’re going to hit that...”
“Like the fist of an angry goddess,” Kelly finished. “That little girl has no idea how deep in her pussy I’m gonna go.”

“I worry about you sometimes,” Carol said, laughing.

“I do as well,” Kelly said, a note of seriousness in her voice that hadn’t been there before. “I like ‘em young, sweetheart. Young, and not necessarily legal.”

Carol felt something from Kelly, something disturbing, that she couldn’t identify.

“You have something you want to talk about?”

“No...” Kelly said, too quickly. “Just ... if they’re old enough to be interested, seems like I find them ... interesting.”

“Well, luckily for you we married Lori then,” Carol replied.

“Yeah ... yeah. That’s real lucky.”

“Should I warn her?”

“You do whatever you feel called upon to do, Carol darlin’. No way that sweet little morsel can escape me.”

A few songs later, Carol found herself dancing with the object of Kelly’s lust.

“So, Lori, how’s your wedding day going?”

“Better,” Lori said, leaning into Carol’s arms, laying her head on her senior wife’s shoulder. “I was very ... anxious, earlier, but now that it’s been said and done ... have you ever dove off a really high diving board?”

“Once or twice.”

“It’s like that. Now that I’ve jumped, I’ve sliced into the water, and it’s cool, and deep, and I’m okay.”

“Good. I was talking with Kelly earlier. She has some plans for you, sweetheart.”
“Oh, really? Sexy plans?”

“Oh yeah. She might be too tired tonight, in fact I’d count on us all being too tired tonight, but as soon as she’s not? Kelly’s going to hit you like a hurricane.”

“Mmmmm...” Lori said, angling the two of them closer to where Kelly sat.

As they neared, Carol saw Lori’s plan. Her new spouse was going into dirty dancing overdrive, stoking, moaning, rubbing, kissing, gyrating ... and Carol was happy to play along. Lori was a sexy thing.

It took zero time for Kelly to get the message, and soon she was helping Carol make a Lori sandwich.

“Umm, I gather you told this little fuck-muffin my evil plans for her,” Kelly said, as they danced so close to each other their breaths came simultaneously.

“Oh, yes she did, my wife,” Lori moaned. “Sexy older wife has nasty plans for sweet little me...”

Carol wasn’t in the least surprised that, when the song was over, Kelly drug Lori off to semi-molest her at their table.

Carol found herself mildly annoyed she had to tell Camille, Piglet, and Esther to stay at the table when she brought Harry out on the floor for a slow dance.

“Your harem’s being a little clingy, my love.”

She felt him wince.

“Jealous, my dear?”

“A little. Hard to get close to you in bed without peeling one or more of them off you.”

“Well, Camille and Piglet are the family’s fault, and Esther ... just is. Not really anyone’s fault, I guess.”

Carol had to smile.

“Yeah, we did kind of set their bonding with you in motion, and I suppose Esther’s as much my fault as anyone’s. I should have known what would happen with a white knight and a terrified little girl.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, “you probably should have.”

“How’s she doing? Esther doesn’t talk to anyone really except you.”

“You think she talks to me? Well, I suppose, as little as she can get away with.

“She still has nightmares damn near every time she sleeps. I’ve gotten used to waking up and cuddling her ‘til she calms down.”

“And her ... difference?”

“What difference? She’s a girl, and I can help her feel good.”

“I love you, my husband.”

“I love you, too, jealous little pet. Now, what’s going on with Kelly and Lori?”

“Kelly being Kelly. You know how it is.”

“Oh, yeah, I know how Kelly is.” He paused, and Carol felt his disquiet. She remained silent, and let him speak when he was ready.

“Is it ... normal ... that I’m not all that excited by the idea of making love with Magda and Lori?”

“‘Normal’ I know very little about. But I can see how all this is feeling a little too ‘planned’, not organic, and that might be part of the issue.”

“Hmm, maybe. I mean, they’re both very attractive, it’s just ... yeah, I think it is the ‘planned’ aspect of it.”

“I think you’ll feel different after some acclimatization.”

Carol saw him watching Lori grind herself to a climax on Kelly’s leg.

“Some acclimatization may take less time than others,” he said.

“Yeah,” Carol said, caressing his hardening cock. “I think you’re right.”

Margo

“Madam, I think it would be wise if you, and your spouses, joined me in the first floor conference room.”

Margo had become used to Candy’s ninja-like silence, but was startled even so.

“If you will pardon me,” Margo said to the Velacourts – actually just to Nancy Velacourt, since her husband couldn’t be bothered to participate in the conversation, and sat staring into the distance in apparent boredom.

“Candy, round them up. I’ll go on ahead.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Margo, and her constant shadow, Radhika, made their way to the house, Margo exchanging brief hugs and greetings along the way.

Once inside, on their way through the halls toward the north end of the house, Margo said, “What now? Can we not even have a wedding without some crisis?”

“Madam, we don’t know this is a crisis. It could be some guest wanting to have very private words with your family concerning something...”

“Something not a crisis, Radhika? Such as?”

“I’m not sure, Madam, but it could be a non-crisis.”

“Please keep thinking that, dear. I’ll cover the ‘what crisis now?’ side of things.”

As they entered the conference room, Margo saw a simple, white wolf mask lying on the table, before she looked up and saw Dick Laney sitting there.

“Master Laney, I was confident you’d avoid attending today, in spite of the invitation you were sent.”

He smiled very slightly.

“I probably would have, or wouldn’t have worn a mask if I did, except for an encounter I had at Whips & Clips a few nights ago.”

Margo sat down next to him.

“May I have any refreshments brought for you?”

“I’d appreciate some coffee, black, no sugar. I think you and your family may need a stiff drink or two once I’m through.”

Margo was proud of her spouses – including the newest ones – as they joined her and Dick Laney. None of them reacted as if anything were unusual about the meeting.

“Now that you’re all here, let me start with congratulations,” Master Laney said. “Your House has gone from effectively nothing to some rarefied heights in a very short time.”

Margo noticed Harry’s lips twitching, and shook her head very slightly. Harry frowned, but said nothing.

“I admire you ... no bullshit, I truly do. Your success proves your fitness to rule, success such as I could only dream of. By my take on Dominant thinking, if you succeed in doing a thing, it proves you should do that thing. By that process, I deserved to lose. I’m ... okay with that.

“It also means I owe you loyalty. It’s that loyalty that has me here today.

“I was at Whips & Clips with my subs, and a young man approached me. Buzz cut, blonde hair, clean-shaven, dressed in a nice suit ... and he had what my subs describe as a ‘hard body’.

“He was interested in my opinion of your House. I remained non-committal – I didn’t know him from Adam, and politically, I figure my House’s existence is hanging by a thread, and someone else – your House – is holding the scissors. I thought, for a time, he was one of yours, that it was some kind of test.”

“For a time?” Margo asked coolly.

“Until he reached across the table for a napkin, and I saw a tattoo on his wrist I’m pretty sure I wasn’t meant to see.

“14/88.”

Margo saw Harry’s eyes widen.

“Harry?”

“I don’t recognize the ‘14’, but I know what the ‘88’ means. Eighth letter of the alphabet, ‘H’, twice, ‘HH’. It’s neo-nazi for ‘Heil Hitler’.”

Margo’s guts went cold.

“The ‘14’,” Laney said, smiling, “is for a slogan one of their leaders coined. Fourteen words - ‘we must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children’.

“So,” he continued, “I had a reasonably hard-core neo-nazi asking me what I thought of your House.”

“And you came today to tell us this...” Margo mused. “First off, Master Laney, we’re not in the business of testing other Houses. Second, let me tell you what we’ve learned about the state of affairs in House Fruehauf...”

“All right, how do you want me to play this?” Laney asked. “Ignore them, ally with them, reject them ... what?”

Harry looked at Margo with barely raised eyebrows, and she smiled.

“Master Laney,” she replied, “how would you prefer to play it?”

“Well ... to be honest, I’d prefer not to have anything to do with them.”

“Then play it that way,” Margo said. “I appreciate your willingness to go into the lion’s den, so to speak, but the potential for violence is rather high, and I’d just as soon nobody got hurt unnecessarily. You’ve done us a great favor by telling us about this,” she reached out and took his hand, “and it will not be forgotten.”

Dick Laney broke out in a grin.

“You definitely deserved to win.”

Margo leaned back.

“Anything we can do for you today, Master Laney? If you’d care to stay, or retrieve your subs and come back, we would be happy for you to do so.”

“I think I’ll go home and stay there. Not because I don’t appreciate your kind invitation, but because this information came my way because I’m keeping my distance from you and your House. If I continue to do so, who knows what else might drop in my lap?”

“Fair enough,” Margo replied. “Take care, and thank you again.”

After he left, Margo motioned Candy over.

“Have the Suburban Submissives prepare a full spread, healthy portions of everything, for three, and have it delivered, by an unaffiliated third party, to his house. Don’t skimp on anything.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Carol

She had resolved long before to never think well of Dick Laney, no matter what ... but their recent encounters with her former Master had left her unsure of herself.

Carol saw Margo looking at her.

“He was honest, didn’t lie, didn’t feel like he was hiding anything,” Carol said.

“And that makes you uncomfortable,” Harry said.

“Yeah ... yeah, I does, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I believe people can change, and enough people have told me Dick wasn’t always the shithead I served under, much less what he became later, so I should be able to believe he’s changing his ways ... I don’t like what it says about me that I’m having trouble believing it. I thought I was better than this.”

“Hoodoo woman, my love,” Harry said, taking her in his arms, “you’re human, and that means sometimes you don’t live up to your nobler ideals. At least you’re aware of it, and can work on it.”

Carol looked at her husband.

“Thank you, thank you all, for loving me, even when I’m not particularly lovable.”

While Magda and Lori looked uncertain, the rest of the spouses laughed.

“Honey, even if you were advocating beating Laney to death with a baseball bat, you’d still be lovable,” Margo said.

“Now, can we get back to our wedding?” Kelly said. “I have plans to pull little luscious Lori out onto the dance floor and drive the guests wild with desire.”

Harry

“I thought you promised me no more livestock,” Harry muttered, sotto voce, wearing his best smile as Abby’s mother was given to them.

“Apparently, not everyone got the memo,” Margo replied.

“Gods help us if the our allied cities didn’t get the message,” Magda added, her smile just as wide, and just as fake, as everyone else’s.

“I didn’t see any livestock, other than what they brought for Jason and his ladies,” Carol said. “Doesn’t matter though, we’ll make room.”

“Okay, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Lori said, “but as yummy as she looks, let’s pass her on to Jason. I know if I was Abby I’d like having my mother close.”

“Good idea,” Margo agreed. “Harry, after all this is done, make it happen.”

“Not a problem, dear.”

Next, they all tensed up as they saw all the heads of the other Texas cities, as well as Bastard and Bethany, approaching as a group.

“This is it,” Kelly said. “They’re giving us a whole herd of livestock, I just know it.”

“Bite your tongue, wife,” Harry said, “or I’ll have someone bite it for you. Someone like Li Kuan ... whenever she gets back.”

“Threat taken. They’re going to give us coffee cups with our names on them.”

“Better, Kelly, better.”

Master Yeats of Houston stepped forward.

“We decided to go in together on a gift for you, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what to get for you at all. Here...” he said, handing an envelope to Carol.

Harry watched her face as she opened it, expecting a reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed.

She handed the envelope to him as tears ran down her cheeks.

He looked at the envelope’s contents, and felt his eyes grow moist as well.

“I’d argue this is too much,” he said, “but we saw yesterday how well that argument works on you.”

“Harry, Carol, Mama will spank if someone doesn’t tell me what’s in that,” Margo said.

“Oh,” Carol replied, “it’s a contribution to the house-rebuilding fund. One million.”

And then the six spouses were on their feet, and hugging their friends and benefactors.