Chapter 1: Who is who

Jennifer was again complaining. Every weekend the same story. He would go to that very exclusive private The Club of which he was a member, and she was to remain home or could go to visit her parents.

Of course, Marcus, 33 y/o was the rich Silicon Valley genius, and she was just a 26 y/o pretty lawyer. Really pretty, so.

6 feet tall, ash-blond short hair, good upper department, nice hips, and a narrow waist made her pretty face an outstanding beauty.

After some months dating, she moved in with him in his mansion and slowly she has been introduced to his inner circle.

The mansion was cared about by two maids, a chef, and a chauffeur.

All his better friends were also member of that stupid The Club, and she disliked them immediately, but even worse was her relationship with the girls.

Hassan was born Saudi and shareholder of a big petrol company. To “work” for him was more related with a workout or with a sweaty night with three women in bed.

Sheik Hassan’s girlfriend was Aisha 24 y/o, a Moroccan beauty, a bit smaller, but rounder than herself, raven black hair and a pitchy tone she couldn’t stand.

Igor’s wife Tatiana, 27 y/o was a high nosed Ukrainian top model, with a fashion nose-ring, blonder than her and with long hair, she outdid Jennifer in all her beauty-strengths, except breast size.

Tatiana had longer legs, smaller waist, rounder ass, and was always bragging about her body, and modelling crazy expensive clothes

Igor himself was CEO in Russia of the largest metallurgical industry in the country. The gossip that linked him to the Russian mafia ceased when some detractors were found floating face down and tongueless in the Moskva.

A clear sign that any relation to the mafia was fake news-

Paula 29 y/o is an architect. She was more the quiet type, but twice she had put Jennifer in public evidence. Her natural red hair and a face without freckles made her sculptural body a magnet.

A magnet Tom went for, they were going to marry in a few weeks. Tom’s fortune was a family inheritance, he was used to have money since born.

And finally, Ebele, Marcus’ best friend. Nigerian guy with diamond mines. His black wife Ezinne just got 30 and was a former African beauty-queen.

She assisted Ebele in his business and behaved as the ultimate queen, absolutely unbearable.

Thus, this very Saturday, she was again hitting on him to take her along.

“Jenny, darling” Marcus started “today start the BBCs and I really don’t want to miss them.”

Jennifer, with no idea what “BBC” stand for beyond the British broadcaster, insisted “If you go,

I’ll go with you, pleeeeeease!”

“Jenny, you know the rules, no visitors, no guests. I can only bring you along if they provide and you sign the VBA at the entrance, and today we’ve no time for it”

“Marcus, I sign everything, just bring me along” In Jenny’s lawyer mind VBA stands for “Visitors batch allowance”. Something logical given the high privacy measures of The Club”.

Marcus had to look away for her not to see him smiling.

“Ok, Jenn, just finish the breakfast juice and get dressed; we will be leaving right now, whilst you finish breakfast, I call The Club to kindly ask to provide an exceptional VBA due to the BBCs” and added “I think we’ll I be lucky”.

As they drove to The Club Jennifer felt she needed to piss, an effect of the powders Marcus had slipped into the juice.

“Marcus, could we stop at a coffee shop”

“No time, Jenn, at The Club we have nice restrooms. Just let’s go there”

Twenty min later with Jennifer next to piss on herself they arrived at The Club entrance.

He was warmly greeted by the entrance security and as he explained the gave her a VBA entrance agreement to sign. There she stood in her tight shiny red leather pants, her nice red high heels and her red angora sweater topped with a white cap, rubbing one leg against the other to not pee into her trousers, forced to sign the VBA before allowed to the restrooms. She signed a doc of multiple pages without even trying to read it and ran.

Entering the restrooms, a kind of spray perfume hit her face, a strange smell, she thought and entered a stall.

When trying to open her pants she realized she was like frozen. There she was, standing in the still open stall with no option to move.

“Oh, my god, I’m paralyzed” she thought when the door opened, and Hassan and Ebele came in.

Hassan dressed in his traditional white djellaba smiling openly and Ebele, as always, in his white suit, also smiling, showing very white teeth in contrast to his dark black face.

“What the hell are they doing here?” This is a female restroom. Go out! She shouted in her mind.

Her face so, showed nothing but a funny expression.

“Look, look, what we have here” Hassan said and approaching her, with the back of one finger, he gently stroked her left cheek. “Our beloved and pretty Jennifer”

“Nice to see you in our club” Ebele intervened “we really are looking forward seeing more of you” he said and both started laughing.

“A lot more, in fact” Hassan added “as we are going to raise and solve a paradox. Listen

Jennifer “he said taking her face with one hand to force her to look at them. Ezinne has got the opinion you are big titted bimbo. His left hand profited to maul her right tit, his thumb caressing the erect nipple”

“She looks like a big bitch to Aisha” Ebele added with his hand running down her spine towards her very appealing ass.

“Bimbo?” “Called ME a bitch?” “Those hypocritical sluts talk like that”? Her inner throughflow got interrupted by a more acute one: “Stop that hand” she silently shouted” “don’t you dare;”

The hands dared, oh yes, they did. Hassan’s left hand was happily squeezing her right tit, his right one had a finger sliding up and down along her camel toe.

Ebele’s left hand was having big fun with her left tit, his other hand was kneading her “untouchable” ass.

“Stoooooooop it” She was getting crazy “when I tell Marcus he’s going to beat you violently; you’ll look for those white teeth in every corner of the room”!

But where the hell is Marcus?

Marcus had just discovered that Paula was a real redhead. He also was learning she trimmed her pubes nicely and that Paula’s red cunt was soft and wet. Paula who some goons had already stripped naked throwing her expensive black miniskirt and her delicate white blouse into a corner, before cutting off her panties and bra, was not happy at all with Marcus’ attitude. In her believe their relation did not include getting fingerfucked standing naked whilst paralyzed. She was also wondering where the heck Tom was.

Tom was busy. As Aisha had been the first to come, she was the more advanced. They had already fit both her bended legs into the lower part of her shiny blue latex bitch suit.

Whilst the goons were dressing Aisha, Tom was fingering her open sex, flicking her clit, slowly finger fucking her. He happily mauled her tits and even slapped her face, twice, for no other reason than the fun of doing so. It is also to be said he did not need any other reason.

The going-to-become-a-bitch was in no position to argue, as collared, naked, ring-gagged, bitch-suited and on her knees is not a good position at all.

“You know, Aisha, you look far better as a true bitch, I hope Hassan keeps you in the club kennels”

Then, mauling a tit that he just found freely hanging below her body, he asked:

“Have you ever met Wafaa, Fatima or Samira? It is so fun to play with them now, after being as bitchy as you used to be.