The Billionaires Club Ch 02

Michael marveled at the sight of his wife Joanna, who was naked on all fours sticking her ass up at her husband, presenting her glistening pussy and the jeweled plug that she had in her ass. It had been nearly a month of constant fucking for the married couple, a month of Joanna catering to his every sexual whim thanks to the chemical influence granted to him by the club of billionaires that secretly control the world. And though he could now have any woman he wanted, he found that he still cherished this intimacy, this sight of his wife offering herself up to him.

Not that he hadn't been tempted. He didn't know if it was a side effect of whatever treatment the club gave him, or just a consequence of the knowledge that he could have literally any woman blowing him within five minutes, but he constantly thinking about sex. He'd certainly thought about taking the cute barista as the corner coffee place, or the sweet new intern over at TMRWTech. He came to recognize a certain look in people's eyes, when his scent has been registered, making them completely compliant. And this always got him going, but he suppressed these urges, holding on to some notion of ethics and fidelity.

And truth be told, he really was quite satisfied with Joanna. He loved her dearly, the two having formed a genuine bond during the turbulent times of the startup. She, too, had a brilliant mind for business, and their current wealth had as much to do with her efforts as anything that he accomplished with his technical know-how.

Joanna continued to be a valuable asset at TMRWTech, running things in the financial department. The difference now was that they were more active sexually. The thought that turned him on the most was knowing that this beautiful, intelligent, capable woman would at given moment spread her legs for him if he asked. That she could be in the middle of an important meeting, and she'd strip off all her clothes and get on her knees if that was what he wanted.

But Michael continued to temper himself. He kept things relatively normal, and only really explored desires within the boundaries of his home. He assumed this is why the club wanted him in the first place: he wasn't the type to go around abusing his power, drawing unwanted attention to the way things really are.

He contented himself with using his influence to make favorable business moves, and later satisfying his lust with Joanna, who would acquiesce to his every desire.

"Please, daddy," Joanna whimpered. "I'm a dirty whore that needs to be punished."

Michael walked over to Joanna and ran a finger through her slit, collecting her wetness. The 'daddy' thing wasn't his idea. One of the more interesting side effects of the last month of fucking is that his previously shy and somewhat prudish wife was more in touch with her own desires. She was prone to initiating activities now, without any of his mental prodding, and he was more than happy to help her explore her personal kinks.

And Michael knew he was probably just trying to rationalize the power imbalance, but he noted that outside the bedroom, Joanna seemed more confident and outgoing, and generally just happier. If he spent too much time thinking about it, he might interpret that happiness as just being part of the trance activated by the biochemistry he was generating, but he was often too occupied with fucking his wife to really think about it.

He tapped the jeweled plug, sending a vibration through Joanna's whole body. She gave off a moan as she shivered. "Yes daddy. Please use my ass, daddy."

Michael gripped the base of the plug and pulled it out. He lined up his hard cock with her gaping asshole and slowly thrust forward. She received him eagerly, pushing against his insistent member.

"Naughty girl," Michael said, giving her ass a slap. Joanna squealed with the impact.

"I'm sorry daddy. I just want it so bad," she said coquettishly.

Michael smiled as he continued to push forward, applying steady pressure, inching his way inside her. He would have never pegged his wife for a brat, but he was more than happy to satisfy her kinks. He spanked her again, harder this time, eliciting a deep moan. He continued to spank her ass as he pushed forward, feeling her insides stretch to accommodate the girth of his member.

She was shaking by the time he was fully inside, and dripping with desire. He pulled out an inch, and slowly pushed back in. He took the bottle of coconut oil on the bedside table. He pulled out a bit more, and squirted more lubricant all over his hardness. He pushed back in, and Joanna sighed in contentment.

He started building a rhythm, sawing in and out of her, building up speed and force with every thrust. "Yes daddy yes," Joanna exclaimed as he began to piston into her asshole, every stroke producing a loud slap as flesh hit flesh. "Fuck me daddy. Fuck your little whore."

Joanna bucked as she came, throwing off the rhythm. Michael brusquely flipped her around on her back, and raised her legs up as she continued to convulse from her orgasms. He put a firm hand to her throat and look her straight in her eyes as he entered her again.

She gave him a look that was a mix of fear, devotion, and sheer ecstasy. Michael gave her no preamble, no chance to recover and started pounding her in this new position.

"Daddy I--" Joanna couldn't continue her thought as another orgasm rushed through her. Michael was relentless, and paid no mind to her incoherent babbling. He just drove into her repeatedly, subjecting her to wave after wave of pleasure, until it became her entire world.

"Yes, thank you daddy," Joanna managed to utter through the fucking. "Thank you thank you thank you." She kept repeating her appreciation, her voice hoarse and strained, but sincere in its gratitude.

"I'm going to cum, slut," Michael said.

"Fill my ass daddy please," she replied, desperation in her ragged voice.

Michael grunted and released his seed into her. Joanna cooed as she felt the strangely comforting warmth of his cum inside her. Michael gently pulled out and beheld his work. A surprising volume of cum emerged from Joanna's gaping ass and trickled down her leg.

Joanna mewled in satisfaction. She languidly turned over and reached for Michael. He snuggled up beside her and kissed her right behind her ear.

"So what are your plans for today?" Michael asked.

"Well, after I recover from that fucking, I have lunch with a classmate of ours."

"Who?"

"Regan Livingston."

"Regan? I don't remember you two ever being close."

"She reached out. I think she's in the alumni committee. She's probably looking for a donation from one of our school's most successful graduates." Joanna grinned and gave Michael a sweet little peck on the cheek.

"Funny," Michael said. "I don't think we ever had a single conversation with Regan back in college."

"The Livingstons are old rich, darling," Joanna said in a faux-haughty tone. "Regan was far too busy spending time with all the other legacies."

"I'm sure you're going to have fun shutting her down," Michael said.

"We'll see how it goes," Joanna said with a smile.

***

The elevator doors opened to the private floor where Michael's office was located in the building. Michael noticed that something was off right away. He could not a remember a single morning walking into his office when his personal assistant Millie wasn't at her desk, ready to read him his agenda for the day. But her desk was unmanned, and it looked as though she had abruptly left whatever work she was doing.

He opened the door to his office, and found Priti Mannar atop his desk, her legs spread wide. In between her legs was Millie, naked and on her knees, dutifully eating out the Indian woman.

"Hello Michael," Priti said with a smile. She let out a small groan of pleasure as she put a hand behind Millie's head and pressed her harder into her pussy.

"Miss Mannar," Michael said, trying to sound neutral, but not quite achieving it. He felt himself hardening in his pants, his body unable to deny the eroticism occurring in front of him.

"Mmm," Priti cooed. "I sense some annoyance."

"I just don't like being surprised," Michael replied.

"Yes, I suppose that's true of all of us in the club," Priti said. "I apologize for showing up like this, Michael, but it's something you have to get used to. This is who we are. I'm actually surprised myself that you haven't fucked Millie, yet."

"I"m trying to keep boundaries," Michael said. "I don't see the benefit to just fucking everyone I want."

"That's very sensible, Mr. Lee. But you're allowed to indulge yourself every now and then. What use are these powers if you can't have a little fun?"

Priti threw her head back and grabbed at Millie's strawberry blond hair. "Yes, lick faster, slave. I'm almost there." After a moment, she stared directly at Michael and let out a long moan, her body quivering in orgasm. She then pulled Millie head away from her cunt, revealing the blissful look on his personal assistant's glistening face.

Priti exhaled slowly, then pulled down the hem of her pencil skirt and smoothed the fabric out as she stood. She bent down and kissed Millie on her forehead, before lightly caressing her hair.

"Put your clothes back on and fix yourself up, dear. Michael and I need to have a private chat," Priti said.

"Yes Ma'am," Millie said. She got up a little unsteadily, then gathered up the clothes that were in a heap on the floor, before making a beeline to the door and closing it behind her.

"Sweet girl, that Millie," Priti said.

"Yes she is," Michael said. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't continue with mess with her."

"That's sweet of you Michael," Priti said. "But Millie's been taking my orders for months now, and it hasn't made her life any worse."

"Months?"

"It's part of how we've been keeping track of you," Priti said. "I'm sure you didn't even notice anything different."

Michael let out a sigh of frustration. "Are you ever going to stop spying on me, Miss Mannar?"

"Probably not," Priti said. "You should probably try a little bit of spying yourself. It's hard to maintain control fo the world if you aren't keeping track of everything that's going on."

"I don't even know who else is in the club. If you want me to keep track of things, you could at least be more forthcoming with me."

"Yes, of course you're right," Priti said. "I'm sorry, it's just that keeping secrets has become my second nature. But rest assured, you will know more soon, when the other members are fully satisfied that you really belong with us."

"What more do I need to do?"

"Just continue what you're doing. Use your power to your benefit. Keep building your fortune. If you make a mistake, you will definitely know." Priti walked closer to Michael. "But I'm not here to tell you how you're doing. I do have something else to discuss."

"Maybe you could have called first?"

"Don't be silly," Priti said. "We only ever talk in person, in secure spaces. Phone calls, email, even written letters...all that can be intercepted. We try not to leave a trail."

"This would all be easier if you just told me all the rules," Michael said.

"Just use your common sense, Michael. It's why we recruited you," Priti replied. "Now, on to business. When was the last time you talked to your partner, Fred?"

Michael thought about this. Between work and spending time with Joanna, he realized that he hadn't checked in with Fred in a while. He'd been quiet lately, anyway, not doing nearly as many media appearances as he usually did.

"Why do you ask?" Michael said.

"You should be keeping tabs on him," Priti replied. "It appears he's not quite as satisfied with your current arrangement as it might seem."

"What do you mean?"

"He's making moves behind your back. Acquiring stock, forming alliances on the board. We can't really be sure yet, but we think he's going to try to push you out."

"Why would he do that? He knows how much work I do."

"Despite all our power, Michael, we can't actually read minds," Priti said. "Maybe he's just tired of being known as the screwup between the two of you. Or maybe he's just gotten greedy."

Michael's mind raced. In retrospect, it did seem strange that Fred hadn't checked in on him in a while. He gave Michael a lot of leeway to conduct business, but he would still call in every now and then so that he could get some juicy tidbit that he could use to hype up the company and pump up the stock price.

The thought of Fred betraying him made him sick to his stomach. How dare he? This fucking hanger-on who was just fortunate enough to meet Michael in college, whose main contribution to the company was being able to get a loan from his dad. How fucking dare he?

Priti leaned closer to Michael, bringing her mouth close to Michael's ear.

"What you're feeling right now, Michael, you should embrace it," she said., her hand softly caressing his still-stiff cock through his trousers. "I was like you, too, when I got into the club. But we waste time by not doing exactly what we want. You were chosen to wield this power for a reason. You know your brilliant mind won't lead you astray."

Priti gave him a kiss on the cheek, and walked toward the door.

"Wait, I have a question," Michael said. Priti turned back to him at the doorway.

"How do I know that this isn't just another manipulation?" he asked. "Even if Fred was doing these things, it's possible that he's doing it because you told him to."

Priti beamed at him. "You really are suited for this, Michael. You're asking good questions."

"That's not an answer."

"No I suppose it's not," she said. "But there is no good answer to that. If we did it, there would be no way for you to be certain. Even if I denied it, you'd still have your suspicions. All I can tell you is that it doesn't really make any difference. You still have to rectify the situation yourself. You still have to deal with your partner in some way."

"Is this just some sort of test?"

"Everything is a test, Mr. Lee. What I can tell you is that you still have a choice in all this. We control the world, but we don't control you. You're free to deal with matters as you wish."

Priti turned around and walked away, closing the door behind her.

***

Michael's mind was a jumble as he walked through the doors of his home. Very little was accomplished at work today, his mind drifting to the things that Priti Mannar said to him, as well as the vision of her being eaten out on his desk. He thought of Millie at her desk, and how he could buzz her into his office and make her suck his cock, and how she'd be grateful for it.

He felt an aggression building inside him, a desire for control that he would likely take out on Joanna tonight. "Joanna?" he called out. "Are you home?"

"In here, honey," Joanna replied from the kitchen.

Michael rolled up the sleeves of his button down as he walked to the kitchen. Joanna greeted him at the threshold with a worshipful smile, but she wasn't alone. Sitting at the counter with a glass of wine was a blond woman dressed in a chic designer dress in coral. Her golden hair fell in loose spirals on her shoulder, framing an elegant face that expressed a privileged upbringing. She offered him an awkward smile, as well.

"Hey, Joanna," Michael said.

"Michael dear, you remember Regan, don't you? From college," Joanna said.

"Oh, of course," Michael said. "Hello, Regan."

"Hello, Michael," Regan said. "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you," he said.

"We were having lunch," Joanna said. "And Regan was trying to get me to make a donation to the alumni's association."

"Was she now?"

"And I said I'd have to talk it over with you first, of course. So I invited her to dinner with us here, so we can talk."

Joanna flashed Michael a broad smile that indicated her intent.

"Hold on a second, Regan," Michael said. "Joanna and I need a moment."

"Of course," Regan replied.

Michael took Joanna by the elbow and led her into the hall. He looked her straight in the eye. "What are you doing?"

"Was I bad, daddy?" she said, her eyes feigning innocence.

"You know I'm fully content just having sex with you, right? I'm very happy with where we are now."

"I know," Joanna said. "But while I was having lunch with Regan, all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you fuck her face."

"Really now?"

"Mmhm," she said. "And I also thought about how you could make her eat me out; how Regan Livingston, queen of the campus, could be turned into my personal rug muncher."

Michael sighed. "I'm afraid I've completely ruined you."

"Ruined me?" she said, guiding his hand between her legs, letting him feel her arousal. "Before any of this happened, I don't think I even really knew what it was to be happy."

Joanna took his hand, wet with her juices, and brought it to her mouth. She moaned around his fingers, and he felt her shiver in delight.

She looked up at him, pleadingly. "We were fine, Michael. A perfectly functional couple. But now we're more than that." She went back to sucking on his fingers, never breaking eye contact.

Michael took a long, hard look at his wife, and felt the arousal building inside him as well. And he decided that she was right. That maybe Priti was right, and that he should be enjoying himself, too.

He pulled his fingers out her mouth, and grabbed her hair. Joanna's eyes widened in surprise, but then settled into contentment. "Yes daddy," she whispered. Michael pulled firmly, and started leading her back into the kitchen. Regan gasped as they entered, not sure what she was seeing. Michael walked quickly to her, his wife in tow. Regan registered the scene and breathed deep, trying to keep some composure in the face of these strange happenings.

Strangely, she found that the breathing relaxed her. There was some sort of scent in the air, making her feel safe, in spite of everything.

"Regan," Michael suddenly said. "I'm afraid you've been brought here under false pretenses."

"What do you mean?" Regan replied. "What is this?"

"My little slut here has been a bad girl," Michael said. "Isn't that right, slut?"

"Yes, daddy. I'm sorry daddy," Joanna said.

Regan felt like she should say something, that the situation called for her to act in some way. But she was then instead overwhelmed by this feeling that she should just watch and let Michael do what he wants.

Michael sat on a stool by the kitchen counter, and laid his wife across his lap. He looked straight at Regan and he pulled on the hem of Joanna's dress, bringing it up to her waist, revealing her naked ass.

"You see, Joanna here had no intention of donating money to the association," Michael said. He brought his hand up, and brought it down heavily on Joanna's ass.

Regan gasped at the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh. But at the same time, she found that she was not objecting to what was being shown to her.

"She brought you here because she wants me to fuck you," Michael continued. He delivered three quick slaps, eliciting a yelp from his prone wife.

"W-what...," Regan started to say.

"Don't talk," Michael interrupted. "Just watch."

Regan nodded. And she felt a wave of arousal run through her, the programming kicking in. She knew, subconsciously, that her obedience to Michael could only lead to good things.

"Apologize to Regan, slut," Michael said.

Joanna turned her head to face Regan. Her eyes were glazed over, but her smile indicated that she was not unhappy in the moment.

"I'm sorry Regan. I'm sorry I've been a bad girl."

Michael brought his hand down again. And again, with increasing force. Regan counted the slaps, seventeen in all, and felt the sound of the hits reverberate in her chest. And she took note of how Joanna seemed to be enjoying all of it, moaning deeply as her body shook from every hit, a visible spray of wetness emanating from her pussy.