Rich Bitch Widow Gets Renovated

Rich Bitch Ch. Eight

I decided to give the girls a break. I was getting bored with them, so I gave them the day off; they could dress however they wanted. Provided they wore heels.

Thinking about them, I wish Eden could shake her submissive side and show a little fight. I want her to lash back at me, but it is not in her makeup. For example, if she thinks I favor Margaret over her, she pouts. If I discipline her, she falls apart. The other night Eden, was sure I was mad at her. She dropped to her knees looked up at me then, sucked me off in the family room in front of picture windows, with her sister watching her. On the other hand, Margaret has given in to me but remains defiant, though she would never challenge me openly. It was an ongoing effort to humiliate her and break her spirit completely.

My business was doing good. We had several jobs in progress, and one in particular interested me. Juan had taken on the job of transforming a small shop into a private men's club. I stopped in one day to check on how things were going. The work was progressing nicely.

The Club was almost finished. Juan had done a remarkable job. It had a meeting room with a large table and plush chairs and a separate room with couches, a bar, and a pool table.

What interested me was a raised section of the floor in the middle of the room.

It was covered in dark tile with round recessed metal rings set at different places.

Later, I called Juan. He didn't know what they were for, but it was interesting that corresponding rings were set in the ceiling above them. They were rated to handle three hundred pounds, so they were capable of suspending a struggling female, if that's what you wanted.

Juan finished the job, and we were paid in full with a bonus for finishing before the completion date.              I made it a point to call the lawyer who had handled all the details and payments with Juan.

Doug Levinson, the club's chairman, agreed to walk through the club with me making sure everything was to his liking.

He was the chairman of the board of a local bank. We agreed to meet at noon. I was a little early. A beautiful woman opened the door.

She introduced herself as Mr. Levinson's assistant, saying he would be here shortly.

"Would you care for a drink? May I call you Bob? My name is Heather," she purred.

I followed Heather into the bar. She wore a tight pink dress that only came halfway down her thighs and hugged her curves perfectly.

We sat at a table. She crossed her long legs, the rustle of nylons intoxicating, as she recrossed them, exposing her thighs covered in suntan pantyhose. She smiled, showing her perfect white teeth. I could imagine spending the day with her, making her crawl and beg for cock.

Doug Levinson looked every part of the image of an old-time banker: pot belly, almost bald, with a ridiculous comb-over. After a weak handshake, we took a tour of the club. Juan's work was perfect, though it was tough to check out his work, walking behind Heather. The four-inch-high heels she wore made it hard to concentrate; all I could see was her ass swaying with each step. We completed the tour. I didn't ask what the rings set in the floor were for, and he didn't offer.

We sat in the bar, and after some small talk, I asked what type of club this was. Heather turned red and excused herself. Once she was gone. Doug smiled.

"We are all business owners who like a place to smoke cigars and unwind. We are always looking for new members. Do you think you'd be interested?"

"I need to know more."

He settled back in his chair.

"We meet once a month for some "Entertainment." There's no shortage of women that have a dark side and need the money, and nobody gets hurt... permanently."

I was intrigued.

"Is it the same women?"

He chuckled.

"Usually, after one night, they don't want to return."

He looked at me with a creepy smile. Waiting for my reaction... He continued.

"Sometimes things get out of hand, but the women know what to expect, and some enjoy the discipline. I checked into you, and you seem perfect for our little club. The next meeting is on Friday; it's open to new members. Stop by for a drink; bring a girl if you like; keeping in mind she may never speak to you again."

With that, he turned and called Heather. She scurried into the bar, her dress practically up to her waist. Tugging it down, she picked up his briefcase and walked briskly to the door, holding it open for us.

"I'll see you Friday, Bob."

Getting into my car, I thought about Eden, but knowing her she might enjoy it. The more I thought about it, this might be a good lesson for Margaret.

When I returned home, I told Margaret I was taking her out Friday night for dinner; I didn't mention the club. She smiled and kissed me. I couldn't believe how happy she was.

"I'm going to my room to decide what to wear."

I felt like a schoolgirl on her first date; Bob had just asked me out to dinner; I was so excited, I was sure he was going to want me to dress sexy and show off my legs and boobs, but I didn't care. I want to make him happy and show him how much I worship him. If I were to please him, maybe he would treat me better. As long as I've been his slave, he still makes me mad when he treats me like a whore.

Friday evening came. It had been a boring day; Eden spent the day sulking because she wasn't going out with us.

With Eden out of the room, I told Margaret to dress conservatively but sexy.

"Go up to your room, Margaret; I want to see what you've chosen."

"Ok, let me put on my undies first.

I gave her a couple of minutes and then walked into her room. Taking the doors off of their bedrooms was a smart move.

She was trying to lace up her corset; I approached her.

"Here, let me help."

She gasped as I pulled the laces tight. Sitting on a chair, her waist cinched so tight it was hard for her to bend over. I was amused watching her contort herself to fasten her sheer black stockings. When she stood up, her lace cups struggled to contain her tits. She carefully slipped into a dark purple sleeveless dress with a zipper in the back. The scoop neckline exposed the tops of her ample boobs.

"Do you like it, Master?"

"You look beautiful, Margaret."

She was beaming; I almost felt sorry for her.

"I'll be ready shortly, Master. I want to put on a choker and finish my makeup."

Going downstairs, I noticed Eden sitting in the family room, pouting.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Eden. Tomorrow night, I will order subs for dinner, and if that older man delivers, I will let him do whatever he wants to you, so lose that attitude! Now, stand in the corner until we leave."

She jumped up, hurrying in her heels to the corner, pressing her tits against the wall, in the process sticking her ass out, begging to be slapped. Her pink satin panties stretched to their limit.

I was going to torment Eden, but I heard high heels descending the stairs.

Margaret looked fantastic; her dress fit her perfectly, and her four-inch heels highlighted her long legs. As we were leaving, I told Eden to be ready to be fucked when we got back.

Margaret slid into my car, turning toward me,

"Where are we going?"

I should have disciplined her for asking, but I didn't want her crying...just yet.

I had made a reservation for six o'clock at a trendy place that had just opened.

She was acting like a teenager, giggling happily, reaching over and squeezing my dick; she was having a good time. Her dress had crept up, exposing her stocking tops.

"Remember, Margaret, they have valet parking."

She tugged her dress down, and with a smile, she whispered,

"I love you."

I turned into the wide driveway and saw four Hispanic valets waiting. I knew how prejudiced she was; I could see her hands gripping her hem with her lips pressed together.

"I've changed my mind, Margaret; pull your dress up."

"Please, sir, don't make me do that. You know how I feel about them."

I reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling her dress up. One of the valets opened her door and was treated to a leg show, her stocking tops and silver garter clasps exposed. She stood up quickly, pulling her dress down. Her face was beet red. I added to her humiliation.

"She's got a hell of a set of legs, doesn't she, guys?"

They were all grinning and giving me thumbs up.

Despite that rocky start, we had a pleasant dinner. She had three drinks during the meal, which was about her limit. She was wobbling on her heels and was slurring her words. While we waited, I whispered to her.

"Give the guys a show, or you will give them each a blowjob."

She winced and nodded, pressing her red lips together.

When the car was brought to us, she had no problem hiking her dress up to get in, exposing her nylon-covered thighs, purposely leaving the door open, and adjusting her stockings while the valets stared. Once we were moving, I turned to her,

That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"Not if it makes you happy. I would do anything for you, Master."

I glanced at her just in time to see a single tear run down her face.

I hadn't told her about going to the club. She was definitely feeling her drinks; she leaned over.

"Do you want me to blow you while you're driving?"

"Maybe on the way home, Margaret, but now we're stopping at a private club.

Why was it private?" I snapped awake. What was he talking about? I was so confused. I shouldn't have had so much to drink, and where was my Master taking me? I just wanted his hot dick in my mouth. My head was spinning. We pulled into a private parking lot. There were no valets; while waiting for Bob to open my door, I felt something terrible would happen, and I didn't want to go in.

As we walked toward the front door, Margaret gripped my arm tightly, unsteady in her heels.

When the door opened, Heather met us. She was dressed in a flowing black dress that was ankle length but split to her waist. It was plain to see she was braless as her tits filled the top of her dress. As she turned to open a second door, her dress flared open, exposing sheer stockings held by taut garter straps. She turned and flashed that brilliant smile and led us to the bar.

We sat at a small table. At least ten men were sitting at the bar, and all heads turned toward us as Heather introduced us.

Doug was behind the bar and came out to welcome us.

"Good to see you, Bob, and I know Margaret from way back. Sorry about your husband, Margaret; we did a lot of business together."

Doug snapped his fingers and ordered Heather to get us drinks. I was a little unnerved; they were making no effort to hide the fact that they were leering at Margaret. She held my hand tightly and pleaded with me to go home. It was so out of character for her to demand something. She looked terrified. She barely whispered.

"Master, you don't know what these men are like or what they do to girls. I saw a video of one of their parties when I was married. It was beyond cruel what they did to women. Please take me home; I'll do anything you want."

I was enjoying her discomfort but was curious about what was happening here. I looked up to see Doug motioning me to the bar.

"I'll be back in a minute, Margaret."

She grabbed my arm, pulling me down, whispering,

"Don't leave me alone!"

I had never seen her so scared. I patted her head.

"Nothing is going to happen to you."

Doug led me into the meeting room and closed the door.

"Bob, let me fill you in. The men in this club are tired of all this women's movement, all the promoting of women because they have a cunt. Here, we show women their place is to please men. And have fun doing it."

I noticed pictures of attractive women in their underwear with collars around their necks. They were all on their knees with their faces covered in cum. Some were smiling, while others looked terrorized. He opened a picture album. These are some of our "Guests."

Opening the book, on one side were family-type pictures, cookouts, and graduations; on the other side, the same women this time, they were on their knees, dressed in stockings and heels, surrounded by stiff cocks, the women's faces covered with cum, most of them were crying. He knew I would be curious.

"Now, Bob, as a new member, you must supply a woman for a night's entertainment. It could be your girlfriend or wife, although I wouldn't recommend it. Wives have a way of fouling things up. You've got the perfect candidate. The way Margaret bossed her husband around was a crime. More than one member would love to see her crawl."

My cock started to harden, picturing Margaret gang raped.

"I don't know, Doug. I would have to think about it."

He flicked on a monitor; the bar came into focus. There were three guys surrounding Margaret; she looked like a scared animal. Her dress had been pulled up, exposing her stockings and her panty-covered mound. They were squeezing her tits as they forced her to stand up. He turned the sound up, and I could hear her begging them between her sobs to stop. She kept calling my name. They pinned her against the bar easing her dress down, her perfect tits standing straight out. He pressed a button, and Heather appeared.

"Go out there and tell them to stop, and then you take care of them."

He smacked her ass as she hurried past him.

"Heather's a rare find; she loves to please, knows her place, and the best part is she's my niece. Her dumb fucking mother sent her to stay with me so that she would be safe from her stepfather.

I stood transfixed, watching the scene unfold. Margaret was half standing up; they had pulled the top of her dress down, her ample tits just about exposed. Tears were running down her face as she babbled for them to stop. I guess it was time I

"saved" her; I walked into the bar and acted pissed off.

"LET GO OF HER!"

I walked over to her, standing beside her as she repaired her dress. They turned their attention to Heather, pouncing on her, ripping her dress off, leaving her in her stockings and heels. With Heather screaming and kicking, they picked her up and placed her on the raised section of the floor, fastening her wrists with rope to the rings in the ceiling. Doug walked up to her and spit on her face. He then slowly pulled the ropes until her arms were stretched tight and her feet were barely touching the floor.

Margaret had fallen to her knees, and her arms were wrapped around my legs, afraid to see what was happening to Heather. Judging from the screams and moaning, it wasn't good. Glancing over, Doug was forcing an oversized black dildo up Heather's ass.

I pulled Margaret up and helped with her dress. Margaret buried her face in my chest, trying to block out the sound of leather being applied to Heather's body.

I had secured Margaret's dress as best as I could. I nodded to Doug, who was busy training his niece.

The door was closing behind us, drowning out Heather's crying, begging for mercy.

I helped Margaret into my car; she was trembling.

She whispered. "Take me home, Master."

She took my hand, nuzzling it to her face.

"I never want to go back there."

"You won't.

But I was still going to use it to scare her.

"Margaret, pull your dress up. I want to see your legs."

She moved like a robot, exposing her nylons. Her head was down, softly crying. To a degree, I felt sorry for her, but I still was going to fuck her senseless when we got home.

"Margaret, you need a dick in your mouth; it's the best way to calm you down."

Her head was in my lap; she pulled my zipper down, fishing my cock out. Her warm mouth opened, her tongue darted out, licking my shaft.

We pulled into the garage, and I helped her out. She hugged me tight,

"Don't ever leave me. I need you to protect me."

I turned her around and slapped her round ass.

Eden was waiting for us at the door. She took one look at Margaret's face and knew better than to ask a question.

"Eden, take your sister upstairs, fix her makeup, and get her ready for bed."

I sat down and had a drink. I was thinking about the club; maybe Eden would be my chance to get in. I made another drink and went upstairs.

Eden was in her room. Margaret was waiting at attention, dressed in her corset, nylons, and heels with the skimpy cups offering up her exposed nipples. Without being told, she sunk to her knees and put her hands behind her back.

I undressed; Margaret followed me with her eyes, not wanting to do anything wrong. I walked up to her, taking my semi-hard cock in my hand; I began slapping her face with it. She captured it with soft lips and greedily sucked it into her hot mouth.

"You're a pretty talented cocksucker and deserve a belly full of cum. But tonight, I'm going to fuck you."

I fucked her mouth until I was stiff; grabbing the back of her neck, I pulled her onto the bed. Yanking her corset down, I began slapping her big tits. My cock was throbbing, listening to her whimper while trying to protect her boobs with her small hands. Her panties were the next to go. I lie on top of her, biting and sucking her nipples. She was writhing on her back as I rubbed my cock on the outside of her cunt, she was getting wet, but I didn't care if she was ready; I was ready, and that's what was important. With one move, I slipped into her pussy, forcing a loud moan of both pleasure and pain.

My mouth found hers, and we kissed passionately. At the same time, I found myself thinking about Heather. The last thought was that of Heather being abused as I shot my load into Margaret's hot pussy.

Margaret held me tight, wrapping her nylon-covered legs around me, her heels scratching my back.

I finally rolled off of her, and called out.

"Eden, I know you've been listening; now get in here and lick my cock clean. But first, eat my cum out of your sister's cunt, so it doesn't get on my sheets."

She must have been out in the hallway. She walked in, dressed in stockings and heels with a lace bra. She immediately crawled between Margaret's legs and noisily began lapping my cum out of her sister's abused cunt.

Eden finished her sister and without hesitation licked my cock clean.

I noticed Eden's body; her features were softer. Her stomach was flat when she moved in, but now it was rounding out. It was hard to judge her tits, but they were just about out of her bras. I'm going to have a little fashion show with her. Also, we will have to have a weigh-in. I haven't been checking their weight regularly.

Without being told, Eden returned to her room, cum, and cunt juice covering her face.

The three of us had settled into a routine. I still kept forcing Margaret into humiliating herself in front of strangers. I loved the look of despair on her face when she realized the lengths I would go to shame her.

One night, after dinner, the girls were cleaning the kitchen. I called Margaret, telling her I would take her for ice cream. She wore a black waist cincher, a lace bra that provided little support, a white garter belt, and suntan nylons.

"Before you put on your skirt, put these on."

The look on her face was nothing short of fear.

"Are they the vibrating panties?"

She knew they were, her hands started shaking.

"Please don't do this to me, Master."

"Don't be so serious, Margaret, it will be fun."

I had chosen a black spandex mini skirt. She hated wearing that skirt, which would barely cover her stocking tops.

"Finish getting ready; I'll be downstairs."

As I was walking out of the room, I turned the power up on the panties. I glanced back; she had fallen to her knees, gasping.

I lay on the floor; the buzzing in my panties had stopped. Why was my Master doing this to me? I was looking at myself in the mirror. My skirt was so short that my stocking tops would show when I walked. I just wanted to go out without showing my undies to strangers.