Bimbo Casino: The Complete Series (The Shining Spiral Saga) (8 page)

Selene's smile was cat-like, indulgent. “I'll be the
best
wife for you, sir.”

“The
best
wife,” he muttered.

Sweating now, he spread her lusciously long legs out. His lips trailed down their silky, tightly-muscled surface. She brought her hands up to the edges of her jeweled gown, and he ripped downward—it came off easily. Selene, naked now, was like heroin for his eyes. Her breasts so fertile, lactating silently in her lust for him. His gaze felt completely relaxed and utterly blissful, bliss that shot hard into the rest of his body.

Staring at Selene's nakedness—her maddenly perfect curves, her bodacious bust, her tight muscles—was like staring into a black hole where all thoughts exited into, all logic was transformed, and all lust magnified a millionfold.

Madly, he fell upon her, his thick cock sliding down the silky surface of her legs. His hands gripped her hips hard, then his fingertips pushed over to her ass, gripping her tight to him right as he entered her hot, sopping wet cunt.

Falco thrust hard, in stark disbelief of his situation. Her pillowy tits crushed against his chest. The milk between them was warm and even
soft
somehow. Stephanie, as he worked, had attached herself behind him, her own tits pushing hard on Falco's back.

“Fuck me!” Selene moaned lustily. “Fuck me, Sir! Fuck your little home wrecker!”

“Fuck her, please!” shouted Stephanie. “God, she fucking
ruined
our marriage! She destroyed it, just so she could
fuck you
! Drill her, darling! Fuck my replacement!”

Selene pulled his head close to hers, her eyes sinking into his. His universe narrowed down to her gaze and his cock in her cunt—the only two sensations worth feeling anymore. Her tight pussy walls closed hard, milking his cock for everything he had. Then, she pushed his head down to her nipple. That streaming, hot, milking nipple...

His mouth clasped around it. Instantly, he found his pleasure redoubling. It was so fucking delicious! Virility surged through him. His cock instantly felt ten times harder.

“Don't look at her,” said Selene. “You only need to look at me. I'm your hot new wife. That other bitch isn't important at all, is she?”

“Yeah.” Falco continued to thrust inside of her and lick at her nipples, even caught inside her gaze. “Not important at all.”

From behind them, Stephanie moaned out her agreement.

Selene's exotic, erotic accent tinged her words. “
I'm
the only one you
really
love, isn't that right?”

“S-so so fucking right!” God, her pussy was so good.

“You never loved her. You
only
wanted me. You're
glad
you left her.”

The pleasure was getting to be too much. “Yeah, so glad!”

Stephanie cried out, “Yes,
yes!
He
deserves
you, Selene!”

“You need me, darling.” Selene's eyes blazed. “You need my hypnotic little cunt. You can't live without me, can you baby? You
deserve
me. You deserve my hot body for being such a
man
, don't you love?”

He came exultantly, screaming at his ex-wife how he deserved this new fresh cunt to fuck. He could feel Selene cumming with him, her entire body quivering with glee. From on top of his back, Stephanie moaned and applauded his performance.

After fading into a well-deserved doze, he woke up after half-an-hour, noticing that Selene, naked, was on her cell phone.

“Yes, Boss, he proposed.” She paused, listening. “Oh, thank you! We’ll be getting married tomorrow, I should think. No, no, you’re so busy. Don’t worry about coming. Oh yes, he’s very cooperative. He was a tough nut to crack at first—but once his wife went under, I had him.”

Selene stopped. She seemed to notice that he was listening. Smiling, she toyed with the spiral gem in her cleavage. He watched her fingers, her tits...it was impossible not to. He found himself arranged back onto her tit, sucking happily.

He owned her. He
knew
that he owned her. He couldn't believe anything else.

Falco drifted off. She said more on the phone, something about taking everything he ever had, but it was hard to focus on.

He didn’t care. The spiral had him, now. Selene had him. And he was so happy to give her everything.

# # #

––––––––

I
t was unseasonably cool in the small room of the Shining Spiral Casino where Jacqueline waited to be told what to do. She was getting rather tired of it—the cold temperature, the waiting—and was ready to call an audible and just skip out on the entire payday that had been promised to her.

The room was small and ill-furnished. There was a pile of pillows in one corner, for some reason, and two large armchairs. No windows, no drinks, no bowls of fruit or even a clock. Just a blank, maroon-walled room of which Jacqueline felt ready to rip down the wallpaper.

Her public presence was such that she had been rather well-known to become colossally angry at the slightest provocation, and so she was surprised (and insulted) that they didn't know that about her already. She was a world-famous supermodel, for goodness's sake. She was Jacqueline Demonto, and she was more than capable of using her rather illustrious amount of beauty and fame to make others feel dejected or worse (most women she insulted and defamed came close to tears, if not well past that point) when she put her mind to it.

Her self-esteem destroying abilities were well-grooved skills at this point, and the kind, in fact, that she enjoyed employing almost as much as showing off her body. After all, she knew even at the tender young age of twenty-two that this premium-person status she had wouldn’t last forever, and so she might as well squeeze all the enjoyment of feeling superior to others while she still could.

Jacqueline Demonto, along with other world-class models Vivian Ruiz and Marisol Garza, had arrived in the Shining Spiral Casino earlier that day. They were set to do photo shoots and interviews for something called the Spiral Spin. Her agent, in a strangely monotone voice, assured Jacqueline over the phone that it was one of the greatest small magazines in existence today. When she pressed him for more information, he just repeated that one “fact” over and over again, and that she had to go.

It was unusual for all three high-status supermodels to be booked in such a place for such an obscure publication, but with the payday she would be getting, she didn’t mind. She would make more today than she had in three years—well into the eight figures. And all that, just for being gloriously pretty as she had been born. It was enough to make even a rather conceited woman like Jacqueline’s head swell with vanity.

Not helping the matter of her impatience was just how odd the staff seemed at this Casino. All the men were hulking, boner-sporting studs, and all the women were ridiculous busty giggly bimbo babes. The staff flirted constantly, and to be honest, Jacqueline had trouble sorting out who was a patron and who was an employee. They were all so gorgeous. Of course, Jacqueline still thought she herself was much better than any of them.

Jacqueline, being a completely gorgeous woman, had dressed in a way to show that off to the world. She was the third-highest-paid supermodel in the world, after all, and so to her—and to anyone else who mattered, for that matter—that meant she was the third-most-gorgeous woman in the world. She didn’t mind being third—especially as it meant that she was doubtlessly better than three and a half billion other women, and heck, the three and a half billion men that jerked themselves off every night thinking about her. She took pride and happiness in her superiority, and made sure the others around her knew it.

And so, being stuck in this room with no cell phone service for over two hours now, waiting and praying for a change, Jacqueline was getting impatient. They had
paid
her to come here—why weren’t they taking advantage of all her endless advantages?

Her advantages—and they were considerable—were certainly shown off well by the tight blue minidress she had on now. Traveling with incomparable beauties like the dark-haired Vivian and redheaded Marisol, she knew she had to dress extra-hot to make sure she was seen. So, the skimpy dress hugged her tight abs and her healthy hips, as well as clearly showing off her generous cleavage. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back in hot, wet locks, each strand of hair arranged to make her look perfectly beautiful. Her heels—one of many pairs that cost well over a thousand dollars—only made her spectacular legs appear even more spectacular, highlighting their length and pushing her ass up to the ceiling.

Even Jacqueline had to admit that Vivian and Marisol probably still were more beautiful than her—but they certainly hadn’t dressed sexier today as they arrived. Plenty of men would go to bed with Jacqueline's candid pictures from arriving at the airport on their smart phones, calling out her name. That thought gave her some solace.

Each model was presented with a schedule when they arrived that morning, and each had photo shoots and media junkets to work through—though all three were separated, at least to begin with. At the end of the day, there was supposed to be one big shoot in the “big office,” but Jacqueline didn’t know what that meant yet.

Someone opened the door from behind her. Not wanting to show her wrath, and yet still not quite able to control it handily, Jacqueline sneered out a question.

“How much longer do I have to wait? Don’t they know who I am?”

“Not long at all, dear. Don't you worry.”

The voice was magical, beautiful. Soft, sultry, hot, and dripping with sublime confidence. It was everything Jacqueline had wanted to hear in a voice and just didn’t know until that perfect moment.

Jacqueline turned to see a beauty walking in, wearing a briefly-skirted business suit with smoky stockings, wiping a bit of
something
off her mouth. Jacqueline would have sworn it was semen, but that was ridiculous. This was a place of business, after all, even if there was such a permeating sense of sex all about it.

Behind the beauty, as the door closed, Jacqueline saw a rather satisfied-looking, handsome man in a suit—who she thought she recognized as the owner of the Shining Spiral, introduced to her earlier—but then he was gone, and the door was shut, and she was left only with the beauty.

“Hello, Ms. Russell,” said the lovely woman. “I’m your interviewer this morning.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your interviewer. For the article the casino is doing on you? We have a very popular newsletter. The Spiral Spin. Everyone says it’s just mesmerizing.”

She sat down in one of the chairs in the middle of the room, and motioned for Jacqueline to do the same. Jacqueline did, but not before enjoying the sight of the beauty’s long legs crossing. Mmph. She had strong bisexual urges—almost any woman in the modeling industry learned to develop them over time—but never anything quite so strong as this.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” Jacqueline asked.

“Oh, where are my manners?” The beauty held out a hand, which Jacqueline happily leaned over to take—and also absorbed the hot sight of crushed cleavage at the same time. “I’m Selene. It was Selene Franco, but I’ve changed it back to Selene Craft after my husband died.”

“Oh. Craft is your maiden name?”

Wasn’t Craft the name of the owner of the Shining Spiral? Yes...Mr. Craft. Wallace Craft. Jacqueline could remember it clearly.

Selene smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s the name of my favorite person. I just couldn’t bear to have any name but his.”

“Oh. That’s...unorthodox.” Not sure why she was asking, Jacqueline ventured out another query. “I hope it’s not too inappropriate to ask, but...how did your husband die?”

“Heart attack.” Selene’s smile was not that of a bereaved woman—but rather one happily indulgent in her work. “From over-exertion.”

That was an odd answer, and in fact it was odd that Jacqueline had been inspired to ask about it at all, but she couldn't quite focus on that anymore. Rather, Jacqueline couldn’t stop staring at Selene’s tits. They were just so...soooo perfect. Hypnotizing, in a way.

What was definitely hypnotizing, though, was the pendant in Selene’s cleavage. It looked so fertile. So womanly.

Staring into the crystal, Jacqueline realized that something strange was happening. Something strange and sort of enlightening, too. She felt like a message was being beamed straight into her brain, information from some divine source of beauty and light, and the message was clear as day—Jacqueline was not good enough to be in front of Selene.

She had never felt like that with anyone, ever. Jacqueline rather thought her role in life was, in fact, to make others feel that way about herself.

And yet, despite years of self-training and endless adulation from all around her, Selene made Jacqueline feel lesser. She made Jacqueline feel like a distant fourth, well behind Marisol and Vivian and Selene, with Selene neck and neck with Vivian. How was that possible? How could anyone be so gorgeous as to not only compete with the flawless goddessness of Vivian, but also to make Jacqueline feel so insignificant and worthless and small?

Jacqueline felt like crying, staring deep into the beautiful, perfect crystal, so full of truth and light, and thinking of how easy and effortless it was for Selene to look so gorgeous. Somehow, she held back her tears...and then Selene’s hand crossed over the crystal in her buoyant cleavage, breaking off Jacqueline’s train of thought.

The dark-haired beauty appeared concerned. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Um...” Jacqueline was unexpectedly choked up. “Um, I guess so. I’m sorry.”

Selene’s perfect face transformed into a predatory grin. “You’re thinking about how gorgeous I am.”

“Wh-what?”

How could she know that? How could she get straight to heart of the matter like that? Had she been...had she been giving those thoughts to Jacqueline, somehow?

Selene continued, her hand beginning to slide off her crystal again. “You’re thinking about how much better of a woman I am than you. Everything about you is determined by your hotness, and I’m hotter than you by a large margin. It’s quite obvious. You’re gorgeous right now, but I’ll be gorgeous forever. That’s just how things are. I’ll age beautifully, gracefully, and you have maybe another ten years, at best, before it all goes to hell for you. You'll still be able to pick up men in cheap bars, or maybe even marry some rich fool who doesn't have a good eye for true beauty, but it will fade, and hard, for you.”