Mayhem 4: Irish Mist - Cover

Mayhem 4: Irish Mist

Copyright© 2010 by colt45

Chapter 10

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - A young retired army officer scarred from the battles he fought in a near apocalyptic war is hired as security for an all-girl Irish band. They’re young, talented, beautiful, and nuttier than a bag of squirrels. Some want to rip his throat out while others just want to rip his clothes off! Add to the mix a set of bad guys threatening to kidnap the girls and a legendary SpecFor captain who wants to use him as a spy. Should be easy, right...?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Romantic   Heterosexual   Humor   Harem  

Okay, think of the most embarrassing situation you've ever been in and then compare it to our coming down to breakfast the next morning. Not only were we eating with one of my wives/girlfriend's mother and father but the other's aunt and uncle. I'll admit they were pretty casual about the whole thing. Mostly Seamas stared down at his plate mumbling about this or that while Betty flittered about the kitchen giving us looks like — well, I don't know what kind of looks she was giving us; those inscrutable Chinese. At least Seamas had some kind of reaction I just couldn't figure out whether it was revulsion, anger or if he was just laughing at us.

They had to have talked it out between the two of them beforehand because what we were doing practically invited some kind of comment. Well the girls anyway. I mean Leanne was chatting like there was no stopping her, plopping down in my lap and nuzzling my neck and generally doing everything short of stripping us down and demanding I fuck her right there on the table. If anything Niamh was worse. She had to be touching me all the time. No, I don't mean she grabbed my dick or anything like that. It was more along the lines of if we were sitting down she had to have a hand on my leg or arm; if we were standing she was right next to me with an arm around my waist or playing with my hair. It was embarrassing but I'm not going to lie and say the attention didn't make me feel good.

Then there were the looks and the heavy sighs; you'd of thought they were a couple of teenaged girls going out with their first crush. Niamh had this dreamy, glazed-eyes kind of look while Leanne's was more of the feral, cat-going-crazy sort of thing. Actually by the end of breakfast I was pretty sure Seamas was laughing at me ― not at us, at me.

I will say it calmed down after that, though. The next week and a half were comparatively quiet with only a few exceptions. Most days, starting at 10:00, they had scheduled practice secessions just to keep their edge for the rest of the tour. They'd all meet in the studio about a half an hour early to warm up or do whatever it is they do. Not being a musician, I couldn't really tell you. I sat back in the control booth, usually with Mac and Faolain when they came in. Rachael usually didn't grace us with her presences until about 1130 but I guess that was pretty standard since the other girls were working on instrumental things until then anyway. Honestly I didn't even bother to listen most of the time. Most of it was working on particular parts of songs and the repetition of these small sound bits is a little disconcerting to us non-professionals who just like to listen to music.

I got caught up on a lot of reading about the political situation back home which did nothing good for my blood pressure. This had been a classic case of ignorance being bliss and for a long while I had been a relatively happy fellow. I was quickly becoming thoroughly pissed off at my own government; especially concerning the treatment of the widow(er)s and orphans. The support they had been receiving had been dwindling steadily over the past few years and now it looked like it was going to disappear altogether. Made me damn glad my pension was going directly into a fund that would help them out.

Veterans themselves were coming under pressure also but not so directly. There were little things like a bill that would tie pensions received to the number of years in actual combat, something that would have reduced a lot of pensions and not increased any that I could see. There were also growing rumblings about rescinding the blanket firearms carry exemption veterans have; that remained mostly rumblings primarily due to a four-day "Show of Solidarity" the VBS sponsored in New Washington that shut the place down completely. There were a number of calls for the NWPD to "clear the streets," mostly in the form of prerecorded messages from legislators who just happened to be back in their home districts during the demonstration. The NWPD police chief caught some real heat but I gave him high marks for intelligence when he announced he had no intention of interfering with a constitutionally protected right of protest so long as everything remained peaceful. Intelligent, I say, because it was a sure thing that almost every one of the swinging dicks and bouncing boobies involved in that demonstration were armed to the teeth and outnumbered the cops by at least ten to one.

There was no particular need for all three of us to sit in there all the time since we still had the spy-eyes set up so we had plenty of time to wander around if we wanted. Reactions to Rachael's and my somewhat less-than-traditional romantic entanglements were widely varied but generally low key. Of course Niamh, Leanne and I never made the public pronouncement that Rachael did but you'd have had to be an absolute lunatic to think everyone didn't know about Niamh spending the night by breakfast the next morning. Family opinion seemed to be split on it. The men ― and I included not only the fathers but brothers and cousins as well ― were pretty much universally confused and befuddled by the entire situation which pretty much summed up the state I was in so it was practically unanimous. The only reason I couldn't say for sure it was unanimous was because I didn't know what was going on in the Ranger brains of Mac and Faolain. They never told me and I never asked.

The women however were splintered into many different groups. There were the mothers with a contradictory disapproval/tolerance/cautious optimism response to it all. They probably thought it was just a phase we were all going through and they weren't going to interfere unless they thought it was getting out of hand. Then there were the girl cousins. I think the youngest of this generation was sixteen so they were all old enough to know what was going on. They of course thought it was sooooo romantic and pestered the shit out of all of us. There was a smattering of women who had married one of the cousins and lived there at the compound; their opinion was mostly just flat out disapproval. I never did figure out whether it was jealousy for Rachael having two guys. Rachael was never particularly well liked by them which came as no real surprise, or the unfairness of two girls having to share one guy that bothered them. Maybe it was all of it in general but truthfully I never bothered to find out. Aileen declared it all disgusting and went back to school where she could ensure her bevy of suitors would pay attention to what was really important: her.

The teasing was intense from all the above categories except of courses Aileen and the married cousins-in-law but the worst by far was Eimile and Shauna. For being perpetrators of "scandalous acts" themselves they felt no obligation not to bring my situation up in just about any social context imaginable. For the most part I was their main target; Leanne would just laugh and tell them they were jealous while Niamh would just give them a dreamy smile and look over at me.

Me they would climb all over like a jungle-gym in a kindergarten class. They would rub all over me, tickle, ask if certain parts were still operational after heavy use and tell me I looked soooo very tired. They were scolded more than once or twice by the mothers for inappropriate behavior to no avail and I had to swat their bottoms a few times myself with about the same results except it did make me feel better for a short while. Funny, the few times I did that I received approving glances from the mothers in the area.

Leanne reacted with mostly bemused tolerance; sort of like the alpha she-wolf watching a pair of pack puppies worrying her mate; every once in a while she'd snap at them and they'd scurry away for a few minutes but that was about as far as it would go. Niamh never said anything and for the most part ignored them. However if she decided she needed my attention she'd get it. Once while we were watching a movie ― yes, we still did that a lot at night ― one of the twins was sitting in my lap trying to annoy me by nibbling on my neck ― Eimile I think ― Niamh marched over and unceremoniously dumped her onto the floor and plopped herself down. The dumpee squawked for a second but climbed right back up next to me and continued watching the movie as if nothing had happened.

Of course if any of the other unmarried girl cousins tried to even get close you'd think they were trying to steal the last bone from a pack of starving Rottweilers. I think Shauna actually growled once. It was all very weird.

Other than that everything went pretty smoothly. We didn't stay out at the homestead all the time. We did go into the village twice, mostly for the afternoons as a group including Rachael. She enjoyed meeting people and loved being fawned over as a local celebrity. Since there were only three of us, Caoimh didn't join us until the second week when his tour of the remaining venues with the lovely Valeria was completed, I wanted the girls together as much as possible when we were out in public.

I'm not from a small town but I've heard gossip is the life's blood of a close-knit community. Certainly everyone we ran into knew everything there was to know about Niamh and Tom Callahan and some of it was even true. Somehow they even knew about Niamh, Leanne and myself. The consensus among the men seemed to be: sure, Tom was a lying, cheating, douche-bag, asshole-eating, wife-beating, scum-tongued bastard. But was that any reason to divorce him? As for me I was that "interfering Yank," but that opinion was kept to themselves for the most part while I was around; around their women folk also come to think about it. Somehow one of the recordings from the whole fiasco had been leaked onto the net and I guess they'd been simply appalled that such a little feller had taken one of their local boys apart so easily. That leaked recording caused a few other problems but I'll get to that later.

The women were evenly divided: half thought I should have castrated Tom and "fed 'im 'es plums fer a pudding," while the other half thought I should have skinned him alive and made a lampshade out of his hide. They were split again over Niamh; half thought she was perfectly righteous in divorcing the cad although striking up with another fella before the split was final was a little soon. The other half wondered if maybe Tom had learned his lesson and shouldn't be given another chance. Note that even this half was entirely comprised of those in the first two categories: the skinning or de-plumming groups. Yeah, I didn't get it either.

The obvious fact that Leanne, Niamh and I were in some way a threesome was a delightful scandal for everybody! How would they know, you ask? Gee, I don't know; maybe it was the way both of them hung on my arms pretty much all the time. Or it could have been the kisses they demanded frequently regardless of the company or place we happened to be at the time. It could have been anything; maybe they just guessed. I will say in this particular instance Rachael was actually much more circumspect than my two ladies and that tells you just how demonstrative they could be in public.

Naturally the newies, scuzzies and every scandal site on the net went absolutely nuts. In most parts of the world, especially where I was from, two guys and a girl or two girls and one guy hardly rate any airtime unless it's a really big-name celebrity or some other juicy dirt was associated with it. I'm not saying it's common but it isn't uncommon either if you know what I mean; it's not a big deal. But in Ireland right then ... Well, with these girls it was a big deal. Ireland was just coming out of one of its more conservative cycles and to discover that two of their precious band members had taken up with the same man ... Shocking! Simply shocking!

I found out when Caoimh came back that Camberge almost piddled his pants, he was so happy. They'd negotiated a number of larger venues after the aborted kidnapping incident and now with a sex scandal they were selling out almost faster than they could print tickets. Of course it didn't hurt that idiot groups like Mother's for Decency or Dad's against Debauchery or some such nonsense were threatening to protest outside the concerts ... Well, I've heard that even after the sellouts the resale price of tickets doubled and sometimes tripled. I wondered if Camberge was secretly funding these fringe groups...

I haven't talked much about the newies or the scuzzies for that matter. They've always been there, taking pictures, making recordings, shouting questions. The girls had been getting to be better known even before the tour so we had our own little contingent following us around. For the most part we ignored them and let them do whatever they wanted outside our perimeter. The first couple of times they tried to get too close convinced them we weren't fucking around and unless they wanted damaged equipment or bodies, they had to play by our rules. The rules were pretty simple and I explained it to them one night over a beer. Rule one: Don't touch the girls. Rule two: Don't get between the girls and their security. Rule three: Stay out of their hotels, dressing rooms or vehicles. Follow these rules and it will be up to the girls how much they want to talk to you or don't talk to you. Break the rules and I'll break anything and anybody I can get my hands on. Rule four: If I find spy-eyes, listening devices or trackers on any of the girls or anything that's associated with them I was going to buy a distorter that would fry every piece of electrical equipment they owned unless it was military grade which was illegal for civilians.

I laid it out for them and said I didn't care how many pictures they took or how many questions they shouted. I was the girl's protection and not their handler; they decided who they talked to and what they said. These guys and gals were doing their job just like I was. I thought it was a pretty crummy job but so is shoveling shit on a chicken farm; everybody's got to eat.

For the most part they toed the line. The got their pictures, outrageous comments from Rachael and everything was fine and dandy. After all, the girls were minor celebs at best and, other than being pretty and talented, not particularly interesting as far as scandal-mongers go. I'm not sure if they all decided to take a vacation while the girls were on break or not but as soon as the recording of the Tom Callahan incident hit the net that was all pretty much history.

I never did find out exactly how it got there. It could have been from the copy the cops took or it could have been one of the Geallaigh kids sending a copy to one of his or her friends. I tend to think it was the cops, although one of the kids could have done it innocently enough. Why not the Geallaighs? Simple: Not a single word ever got out about the Sean/Eimile incident or about Eimile and Shauna's relationship. Why? Because that was family business and Geallaigh don't talk about family business to anyone but family. The mommas wouldn't allow it and I'm sorry to burst your big he-man, macho, hairy-chested bubbles out there fellas, but what the mommas say goes and what the papas say goes right out the window. I don't know about the rest of Irish society but in the Geallaigh clan the boys have the name but the girls have the power.

All it took was one dickhead hitting his wife and her bodyguard doing his job and all hell breaks loose. Well, the kiss Niamh gave me didn't help; neither did Leanne jumping into my arms afterwards. Suddenly we were big celeb news everywhere. Well, probably not everywhere; I doubt we'd even be much more than filler material in the States and who the fuck knows or cares what's going on in Europe but in Ireland ... Jesus T. Christ, don't these people have anything better to do? Apparently not because it seemed like the three of us had our mugs permanently plastered all over every scandal/gossip site that catered to Irish nosiness ... It was a fucking nightmare! Well it was to me anyway.

Not so it would appear to the other two principals in this demented drama. Leanne thought it was hilarious and made copies of every ridiculous bit of nonsense those talking sewers made up and spewed over the net. "IRISH MIST LASSES SEDUCE BODYGUARD!" "DRUMMER DUMPS HUBBY AND MOVES IN ON LEANNE'S MAN!" "IRISH MIST KEYBORDEST PREGNANT WITH TRIPLETS WHILE COUSIN THREATENS SUICIDE!" (Okay, maybe the first two were kind of accurate, taken out of context but the third ... Naturally Leanne didn't help matters when she borrowed one of her aunts old maternity dresses and walked around the place stuffed with about four or five pillows. She looked like a beach ball with arms and legs. The only one not laughing at her was Niamh but I'll get to that later since it didn't happen until we were about to resume the tour. Other than that little crisis Niamh didn't pay any attention to it at all.) The twins pouted and complained that they weren't included in my burgeoning harem and vowed to do something about that inequity. That riled the mommas up and the discussions held behind closed doors about that are best left there; mostly because I and every other male with more than half a brain ran away from it as fast as we could. I found out being big doesn't necessarily mean you're slow and I had to push myself to keep from getting trampled by the running of the bulls.

It was mortifying and whatever professional credibility I had left was flushed right down the toilet. It was a good thing my two ladies had steady employment because I was expecting to get canned any day. Security was supposed to protect their principals, not become part of their story! Turns out I needn't have worried; Camberge thought it was the best thing since sliced bread and couldn't have been happier. This business is really bizarre.

I could talk about the fun the Geallaigh men had dissuading more than a few of the more aggressive scuzzies who were under the impression they were exempt from the "No Trespass" rule but I won't. Let's leave it that the Geallaigh boys concept of "fun" and that of the bottom-feeding muckrakers were probably not the same. I will mention that Mac, Faolain and I had a wonderful time using the floaters someone tried to sneak into the Geallaigh homestead for target practice. If you don't know a floater is a civilian version of the mini-reconnaissance drones we used to use back in the war. Theirs only had video and audio, I think, and were much less capable than the ones we had. They also aren't hardened against 5mm projectiles as half a rubbish bin of them attested. Turns out with only slight reprogramming our surveillance gear could pick up their controller emissions and we could pinpoint them as they tried to sneak up on us. I guess we scrapped about half a million New Dollars worth of the pesky things before they stopped sending them. Funny, we never heard any complaints about that but then they're illegal as hell in Ireland especially on private property.

They are good for impressing the womenfolk, though, and beat the hell out of a static range for tuning up your marksmanship. Those little buggers are a challenge to hit on the fly with just a pistol even if they don't move all that fast. It was the most fun I'd had with my clothes on in a long time ― well worth the inevitable squabbles over who actually got this one or that one.

What I will talk about is the interesting meeting I had with Brigadier Clemson.


My meeting with the brigadier was set for about halfway through the break period; unfortunately after the nonsense with the scandal sites began. I was sure we, the Geallaigh homes and the girls in particular, were under constant surveillance by the scuzzies which was actually good and bad. It was without a doubt a pain in the ass and embarrassing as hell but it also had to make our unknown assailants out there think twice before they try a snatch and grab with half the world watching.

But then I wasn't overly happy about the thought of them following me to my meeting with Monty. We I should say. In no uncertain terms I was informed I was not going alone. Leanne was going and of course so was Niamh, the twins invited themselves and when it looked like I was going to have to bring Faolain to help Caoimh (he was back by then) and I cover the four of them, Rachael also invited herself which meant Mac was going ... I was counting on Clemson not being able or willing to handle that many guests but good old Morty shot the crap out of that forlorn hope; he was of course delighted to have all the ladies and their escorts as guests. Out of spite I called Magaoidh and invited him and his wife to join us since they were only a few klicks away.

We loaded up the bus with however many of the Geallaighs wanted to take a ride on a real live tour bus (I suppose if you've never had to ride one day after day it could be exciting) and sent them out as a decoy about half an hour before us. We left in two of the Geallaigh's cars and it must have worked because I never saw anybody following us and nothing about the meeting was publicized.

The brigadier's hunting lodge looked a lot more like a small mansion to me but I guess it's all what you're used to. Monty had enough staff to run a regiment and if every single one of them weren't ex- or even active duty army I'd have eaten my other boot. In addition to the five SAS hovering around, there must have been a dozen or so more flittering around doing what looked remarkably like HQ staff work. My boys and the SAS guys started right away giving each other the hairy eyeball and I had to pull back on their choke chains before the whole mess of them got into it. My rangers are hard men and I'm proud to have them at my back but those SAS guys are nasty, tough motherfuckers and I didn't want my boys getting hurt trying to see whose dick was the biggest.

Monty was the epitome of the gracious host and put on quite a spread for dinner. He regaled the ladies with old war stories embarrassing the crap out of me recounting the entire attack on his HQ. I'll admit what he told them was all true and for the most part unembellished but I never considered what I did heroic; most of it was necessary and the parts that weren't were mostly stupidity and the exuberance of youth. He did it to embarrass me and it worked; he has a nasty sense of humor.

He also seemed to find certain reactions from my ladies extremely funny. A full half of his staff was female and quite good looking at that. Now them having been, or still being, military and my having worked under the brigadier just as they were doing it's natural that one or two of them might want to talk to me about old times or this and that. Every time one of them came close to me those four girls would close in like they were Secret Service and I was the president under sniper fire. Oh yeah they'd let them inside the circle all right but there were no private discussions allowed; that's for sure. Not that I cared a whole lot, I had nothing to hide but it was painfully obvious what was happening and embarrassing as hell. He'd never admit it, but I know that after the first time Clemson pointed a couple of his more attractive staff my way just to see the girls' reaction. I told you he has a mean and nasty sense of humor.

After the meal and ensuing fun and games it was time for business and I was quietly asked to join the brigadier in his study along with Magaoidh. There was a minor rebellion when I tried to slip away; Leanne was having none of it and Niamh only wanted to stay by my side; I think the twins just wanted to see what kind of trouble I could get into and help it along anyway they could. Naturally I put my foot down firmly and let them know this was how it was going to be.

Like hell I did! What planet are you from? I'm betting you must have just started reading this halfway through thinking you'd skip the boring parts. If you've been following along so far you realize probably as much as I do that unless there is somebody shooting at us I have absolutely no control over these women whatsoever. Leanne just narrows her eyes until there are no whites visible, just two coal black orbs staring at me, I call this her demon-eyes and Niamh scrunches in tighter to my side until I doubt a vibro-blade could separate us. Eimile and Shauna start yipping and nagging in stereo about who died and made me God and how there'll be a snowball fight in Hades before I'll tell them where they can and can't go ... You get the picture right? If not I'll send you a copy of the vid; I'll keep the t-shirt.

I had two saviors, one likely and the other surprising. The expected one was Brigadier Clemson who arrived on his white horse armed with a smirk that I would have loved to wipe off his smug general staff face, SAS bodyguards be damned. Apart from thoroughly enjoying my inability to control four young civilian females I'll give him credit for being willing to enter the fray against a highly volatile, fanatical foe for whom the words surrender and compromise are just entries in the dictionary.

"Ladies," he interjected suavely, "would it be possible for me to borrow Major Leforge for a few moments?"

"No, not without us," Leanne answered stubbornly. "We'll not be having him getting himself in trouble without proper guidance." Niamh just squirmed in tighter until I'm sure we could have worn the same shirt.

"I assure you it won't be anything illegal," he chuckled. "We won't be talking treason tonight. But I suppose since all of you are members of the VBS it wouldn't hurt to have you sit in." Leanne's face knotted up in a frown.

"The Veteran's Benevolent Society," I added helpfully as she turned that frown on me. "They're the ones who asked me to introduce us to the General and his colleagues."

"Ah remember very well and ya know very well we're not members of yer group," she snapped. Then she brought out the nuclear weapons. She looked up at me and her eyes got as big as saucers; I could see the glistening of tears and her lip quivered. "Ya don't trust us do ya, Martin?" she sniffed. I knew she was playing me and still my insides crumbled.

"Leanne, of course I trust..." I started before I was interrupted by my surprising benefactor.

"What's all this now?" It was Holly Magaoidh, Colour Sergeant Magaoidh's wife. "Yer doing it all wrong, dearie," she scoffed and hooked one arm in Leanne's and Niamh's in the other. Holly Magaoidh was a small woman, a little taller than Leanne but not by much. She was a few years older than I was which still meant she had been pretty young when she married Ryan. I had met her that night for the first time and liked her immediately.

"Ya need to save the tears and quivering lip fer when it really matters. Haven't yer mothers taught ya the facts of life yet?" A slight tug and as if by magic Niamh separated from my side and she turned away from us leading two women and herding two more before her. "Ya can't use that on a man too often or they become inoculated to it. Ya have to save that fer the important things and Luv, this isn't one of them. They're going to be talking about boring regimental things and, God forbid, politics. It's not a place fer a sane person at all. Now the four of ya can overwhelm the poor thing but ya have to remember they're very fragile..." I didn't catch the rest as they moved off but it seemed the girls were about to receive a lecture on the care and feeding of their pet man. I shook my head and muttered as I turned back to Clemson.

"Rather determined set of ladies you have there, Major," Clemson said with a smile as he watched their retreating backs.

"That's one way to put it," I sighed. "If you also have a tendency to say the Arabian Peninsula gets a tad warm in the summer. I apologize General..."

"No need," he waved it off. "They are young and just feeling their place and powers. Like a boot lieutenant, what?"

"Still," I sigh. "Does every man feel as whipped as I do?"

"Absolutely not," he answered gruffly but there was a twinkle in his eye. "I for one am firmly in control of my own household and I have my wife's permission to say so." I smiled wanly as he led me to the study door. Magaoidh and a couple of the general's people were waiting there.

"If I don't get a chance, please make sure your wife knows how much I appreciate her saving me out there," I whispered to Magaoidh.

"Best you be holding yer thanks until you find out what she's been telling them, sir," he chuckled back to me as we walked into the study together. "Holly's got her own mind on how she thinks the world ought to be run and it doesn't involve women kowtowing to their men, I think you'll find." I grunted thinking Holly couldn't possibly make matters worse and just maybe she might teach them a little subtlety. It's a nice theory anyway.

Clemson walked over to a desk as one of his bodyguards pulled the doors shut from the outside leaving the general, two of his aides, Magaoidh and me inside. Clemson perched on the edge of the desk and waved for the rest of us to have a seat.

"Martin, Ryan," he nodded to us. "This is Bruce Holladay and Rebecca Brighton. Bruce was with the 255th Highlanders and is still in contact with their regimental staff. Becky was part of my logistics staff through most of our part of the war I'm sure you remember her." I hadn't at first but I recognized her now. A little older and some of the sand had shifted in her hourglass figure but I recognized her. I didn't have a lot to do with logistics when I was attached to Clemson's command other than to steal — I mean informally requisition ― what supplies I needed when I could. I nodded to her and she gave me a restrained smile in return.

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