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Ara 19

Indian Sex Club Ch. 06

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Bdsm

Serendipity.

It was a week after Saanvi had used her black magic to both show off to me and eliminate the threat of another Tantric Baba in her 7 hour sex takeover of the established Black Magic business run by witch doctor woman Mallika (see chp. 5 of this series). To all the Indian women present the long brutal ritual was real. Both Saanvi and Mallika truly believed that Mallika’s sex drive and power had been permanently taken from her by Saanvi helped her chelas or assistants, and that It now resided in Saanvi’s increased sex drive. And my raw cock bore witness to it as Saanvi was now continually on heat and insatiable.

As I said. Serendipty. Yesterday the answer had flashed in my mind to the thing that had been nagging in my mind and bothering me since Vanya and Priya, in their first sexfight together, had beaten a Vietnamese mother and daughter (see Chp 03 of this series). Mai, the mother, I felt, was somehow familiar and I should know her. But try as I could I couldn’t place her. Then yesterday it clicked. She was Mai Dang.

In 2009 she was 33 years old and ranked about 25 in the all Asian World Sexfight rankings which was a great achievement by itself, but in the 2009 Championship she had blown away World number 3 and prior year runner up, the 44 year veteran Fu Hai Shoon from Singapore, and the world 2 and last year’s semifinalalist Nha Trung, the young 22 year old Vietamese prodigy, on her way to a contested decision semifinal loss. She was the next Big Thing. But one year later she was being regularly beaten by nobodies back in the local Melbourne scene.

She had been a shooting star: bright but short lived. Some said she had early menopause, others it was her husband’s desire for 18 to 21 year old Massage parlor girls, while others blamed it on the drugs, which they said hyped her up in 2009 or that it was her twin who fought in 2009 not her. The list of reasons went on but after a few months she was yesterday’s news and forgotten.

Then as I said, serendipity. The day after I remembered who she was I was parking my BMW (well actually my 2 BMW as the chassis and engine numbers came from a purchased insurance write off and the resprayed body, interior and mechanicals from a stolen 1 year old model. I had Hiep and his chop shop boys looking for a newer model for me at present) when I saw Mai entering a small steam pressing and ironing shop. I nearly didn’t recognize her dressed in a cheap baggy track suit and doing that sort of job in Richmond, not swanning around in her luxury suburb of Malvern. I looked twice but it was her.

Home sewing was bad enough but when they took the finished garments to a steam shop for pressing it was worse: humid, noisy, pressure from the boss due to his low margin and dangerous work as the clothes were steam pressed to immaculate newness for the retail shops. I continued on and met with my client, but that night did some thinking.

I had already lined up 2 of my current clients to be involved in my latest project: the Indian sex club I had named The Subcontinent Railway Sex Club with its 14 Indian female founding members. They were Ying Lu, a 42 year old wealthy Chinese from Shanghai who ran clothing factories in Brunswick using illegal Chinese immigrants as cheap labor, and the plastic surgery enhanced 28 year old Korean beautician Ga Yoon Pak. Both of them were attracted by the thought of gaining access to a new market; the large Indian population in Melbourne plus the sex the club offered, while my Club members would get very cheap pricing on their products, and would not feel threatened by having some International gold pass members as they would have been from new Indians joining and getting gold passes equivalent to theirs.

I also had arranged for a Sudanese I knew from the local council flats Nyandeng Chol who was 45 and 5ft 11 180 pounds to be involved. Thanks to the Labor party seeking out minority group support so that they could use branch stacking to preselect preferred candidates she was on the local council. This gave me special access to and protection from, local council regulations. Plus, her sons and friends, when not in prison, would provide the local muscle on the street to protect those attending the club functions.

The police connections I needed came from Ruth’s dogging encounter with the Filipina senior constable, Dalisay Ocampo, (see ch 4 of this series), but I still needed access to the Japanese tourist market and a sexfight coach to round out the club. And here was the opportunity to obtain the last. Next morning, I parked near the ironing shop and watched an obviously unhappy Mai wearily trudge into the side entrance of the shop, steam billowing out as she opened the door. I followed her but was quickly accosted by a moustached Vietnamese worker. I ignored him and told a surprised Mai we were leaving.

Things quickly deteriorated and despite my blustering that I was a council inspector I was ordered to leave. I continued to argue but suddenly there was a screech of brakes izmit rus escort and two young Vietnamese youths burst in with their side satchels over their shoulders. I was ready to go then as I knew they would be carrying meat cleavers in those satchels and they were the local security.

Then a slightly older, better dressed Viet entered: the boss of the hired muscle. “What’s the trouble, Huang?” he asked the owner in Vietnamese.

“This fucker is causing trouble. Teach him a lesson.”

The muscle’s boss turned to me and a smile spread across his scarred face.

“Uncle,” he cried and embraced me.

It was my godson Hieu, son of one of my first Vietnamese clients whose house I had helped finance when his lack of income from a non illegal tax paying job stopped him getting a bank loan.

After some words to the owner. Hieu escorted Mai and me to my car, nudging me suggestively as his eyes glanced at Mai. After Hieu left Mai was not appreciative. She turned on me. “Now you have cost me my job. How will I pay the rent, and no I’m not going to sexfight those Indian bitches again with my daughter because I have been kicked out of my Malvern home.”

She dissolved into tears. Thirty minutes later I had her at a coffee shop in exclusive Toorak, the suburb adjoining her old neighborhood Malvern. On the drive over she was pleasantly surprised to find out that I knew of her exploits in the All Asian sexfight league from 10 years ago, and even more surprised that I had attended her long dildo fight with, and defeat of, the Singaporean veteran with a lifetime 9998 win, 12 loss scorecard to put her out and Mai into the semifinal.

At first reluctantly, then more openly she told what had happened after that final. Yes her menopause had come early, but she had returned to Melbourne to find her husband with not one, but four young mistresses, and that he was financing another woman, her best friend, in her attempt to gain entry into the top 100, while claiming her overseas fights were too taxing on his finances and she would have to finance them herself by betting on her matches.

And finally, her best friend challenged and beat her in a sexfight in front of her husband, and she only found out later that her husband had been administering sex repressive drugs secretly to Mai before the fight. Mentally she lost the will to fight and became an easy beat even for unknown local fighters. Finally her daughter Xuan had told the husband a one sided version of the events of the sexfight with Priya and Vanya, (see chp. 03), painting herself as the victim and Mai of betraying her daughters’ heroic efforts and then encouraging the Indians to take their victory on Xuan not Mai. She was thrown out.

But he was no fool. He had a watertight prenup her lawyer had told her. She got nothing. Mai showed me the prenup from her the documents on her phone. What the fuck. It was my top level version, originally drawn up by me to protect Aussies bringing Filipina wives here. How had he got it? Further inquiries revealed the best friend was Thien a Vietnamese woman whom I had selected, trained, paid for her Accounting degree and then employed. And who was so annoyed I would not leave my wife at that time for her that she left my Accounting business taking with her with most of my Vietnamese customers and nearly forcing me out of business. Plus, it now looked as though she had also raided my files.

By the time we were at the coffee shop spelt Ye Olde Coffee Shoppe (did the name justify the coffee price because the coffee didn’t) she had listened attentively to my proposal. Yes, she would be happy to be my receptionist and was that salary real and for a week not a month, but why her. I pressed my internal switch and went into salesman mode. Her ability to speak Vietnamese, English and with her mother being Chinese/Vietnamese, Mandarin; the fact she had travelled extensively in Asia; the fact she was mature and not self-centered like a young Vietnamese; the fact she could be trusted unlike Thien. I appeared to be embarrassed but also muttered hesitantly that I also wanted a very sexy looking woman as receptionist.

“And you think that could be meeeeeeeee.” She stiffened and her voice trailed off. “Oh my God, Its Ha and Ngoc. They can’t see me penniless and dressed like this. Within minutes everyone will know.”

Her eyes were fixed on two Vietnamese getting out of their Mercedes. It was the opportunity I needed. I quickly left money on the table and hustled Mai into the boutique next door.

Fifteen minutes later we emerged from the Boutique and Mai stopped as we passed the coffee shop. “Ha and Ngoc,” she said, “It’s good to see you.”

“Mai, we thought, we thought er …um.”

“We heard you were ill and um um er not at home,” the other finished. Both obviously looked shocked to see Mai dressed in a tiny black cocktail dress, high heels and clutching another bag with Le Chic, the name of the boutique, printed in huge letters on it. And izmit escort furthermore accompanied by an obvious sugar daddy. It was not what they had heard or expected.

“Darling,” I said, pointing at another shop in the arcade “maybe the lingerie shop over there has something for our Sydney trip.”

The last they saw of Mai was her taut bum entering La Figure and as we looked back through the window both of them were pulling out their weapon of choice; an iPhone for Ha and a Samsung for Ngoc. I took Mai to my new premises I was opening in Springvale and showed her what would be the reception area and her eyes gleamed.

Compared to the steam shop it was Buckingham Palace. As we ate lunch togetherI got ready to lay all the cards on the table. “Where are you living?” I asked.

“In a converted garage behind a house rented by some Vietnamese in Footscray.”

“Too far from the business,” I replied, “You can live upstairs rent free here as part of the job.” She pretended to protest but it was halfhearted at best.

“You know,” I said, “I was one of the original founders of the All Asian sexfight Competition, but I have never helped or sponsored a number 1. I saw you in 2009 and thought you were certain to become number 1.”

“A long time ago and a lot has changed,” she replied, “I’m not the same.

“Only because your inner belief has gone. I saw you then. I saw you 2 weeks ago taking on two Indians. I believe in you. I believe so much that I would sponsor you if you were willing to try again.”

Her eyes flickered with hope then extinguished. “Yes, but how. No one in the Australian rankings will fight me because I’m not on the official list, and the housewife, factory worker unranked betting match fighters won’t fight me because they still worry that I was number 25 in the world. Without those wins I can’t get on the Australian list and work my way up to the top 10 so I can challenge internationally. Plus, I am out of condition. Two weeks ago was my first fight for nearly 10 years.”

“Well,” I said, “don’t worry about getting into the rankings. I will arrange that. And as for catching up on those years I think I have the solution for that. It’s the Subcontinent Railway Station Sex Club,” and I explained what that was and her role in training the Indian members which would give her a lot of one on one practice.

“Do I have to do this to get the job?”

“No,” I replied, “the job and apartment are yours. The other part is merely what I believe you are capable of achieving: being world number 1. And if you want that there is one Indian who I think has potential and the mental setup to hate defeat and keep wanting to fight you hoping to win. I will have her waiting for you, today, next week, next month. Whenever you decide.”

“I want it, but my husband ruined my trust. I need support and belief in me because he got his rocks off belittling me, undermining me, putting me down, betraying me. You know there is only one way I can trust you and what you say.”

“What’s that”? I queried prepared to lie like hell to get her to agree.

Two hours later I was doggying her in the upstairs apartment of the new premises as the builders installed the final office fittings below. She made love with a desperate intensity and ferocity. I could feel the need to be wanted steaming from her. So now I knew what she needed to measure trust. I handed her my phone which was already ringing Ruth’s.

“Ruth,” she said, “This is Mai. Greg has arranged for me to sexfight you tonight, and if you are of a suitable quality, I will be beating you every night until we have done all 69 official contests or you say no more.”

She turned to me. “Did you mean it when you said you want me to dress more sexy and slutty than any Viet woman that comes into the office, especially the young ones?” I just groaned and emptied my second load into her arse and she took that as a yes.

But I managed to regain control of my voice and say she was one of the very few women I had ever seen who could do all three slut looks; everyday, business and celebrity. Some women could do one, a much smaller number two, but very very few could handle all three.

“I don’t understand what you mean;” she said.

“Well everyday is putting it on show like a hooker in Manilla or Bangkok. You know cheap and nasty and flaunting everything. Business would be like when you accompany me to conferences. At first glimpse it looks quality corporate uniform but a closer look or when you walk or sit it probably shows more than the everyday slut, but far more expensive and classy looking.”

She nodded her head and said, “And you think I can carry off those styles.”

“Yes. Believe you can, and want you to.”

“And the third I really don’t know. What did you say? Celebrity slut.”

“You do know. Celebrities on the Red carpet. Think Cher, Jennifer Lopez, Rihanna. Even Beyonce. 98% flesh, arse and tit, but perfect for you to wear to Vietnamese wedding party.

She kocaeli escort actually shivered with anticipation before continuing. “You spoke about the Vietnamese Beauty Contest and Miss Nude Vietnamese over 40. You must know that Lan Nguyen and Thuy Do always fight it out and both of them have implants and the judges go horny on fake big tits and I am small.”

“Yeah but we will have you enter in all the smaller preliminary contests, St Albans, Footscray, Sunshine before the big one in Richmond. Word will build up and the judges will be forced to take notice by the Richmond event. Plus you will be entering in the Allcomers taking on anyone over 18 as well as entering the over 35s. Not even Lan and Thuy do that. And even if the judges are fucking Lan or Thuy on the sly, everyone will see you and know that you are back, not hiding, and ready to be in the All Asian Sexfight game.”

Just taking about it and with Mai now sucking my cock was making me hard again. She tried to say something but each time faltered and stopped before I could understand her. Finally she steeled herself and her request came out jumbled and confused but the message was clear. She felt she was asking a lot of me, she understood if I couldn’t, asked me not to get angry, I would be already paying for her transport and accomodation to sexfight on the world circuit, only in Melbourne, would I, could I sometimes, occassionally, even once would be great watch her sexfight.

My cock got even harder when she pleaded, “I will sexfight even better with you watching me because you believe in me and the other woman sees you because you are proud of me.”

I have few redeeming features and many say what happens to me is all due to luck. But the one thing I do have is empathy and ability to listen and observe and understand what other people need or hope for. I didn’t need that one talent now as I held her nude body in my arms with my rock hard cock pressing against her belly and said, “No, no no. I want to be at every single one of your contests, in any country. I want to see you sexfighting in training. I need to see you be better than other women.”

The relief and gratitude in her face said it all.

Using the dimmer I turned up the lights in Ruth’s bedroom to full. My eyes adjusted to the light and in the brighter light I could see Mai, stripped naked and menacing, facing Ruth. The two had met 10 minutes before and luckily, for some reason, had an immediate dislike of each other. Mai was slightly taller than Ruth at 5 ft 3, still petite and her 32A tits and face showed some evidence of plastic surgery. Good surgery, not too excessive, just enhancing. She could have been 35. She could have been 50. It is hard to tell with Vietnamese women but she was 43. Being an older Vietnamese her pussy wasn’t shaven.

The wiry naked body of the 50 year old Anglo Indian Ruth was tensed and her small 30A tits with their huge hard nipples stood proud as she prepared to show me her skills as a sexfighter, and that choosing her above the other Indian women in the club was the right decision. In her case her thicker coarse pubic hair was shaven into three, four inch long lightning bolts, each ending at her slit. She was ecstatic that I was giving her secret special training to be the best in the club, and that I considered her capable of tackling a former world top 30. I had neglected to mention Mai’s fall from stardom and she thought I felt she was capable of taking on a world ranked sexfighter.

I had chosen event 6 from the 69 contests in the official Asian World Sexfighting Championship list. This was the Any Method Manual and Oral Unanswered 3 Cums. The two women could use any form of stimulation not involving toys to drag 3 orgasms in a row from the other woman without the sequence being interrupted by one of their own. It would be long enough, I thought, to give enough time for me to see If Mai still had it and evaluate what sort of sexfighter the Anglo Indian could be.

They clashed on the bed and the two women quickly entwined and rolled across it, their lips locked as they tried to use their hands and fingers to seek out out the other’s slit and defend their own. Their tongues duelled for supremecy, and Ruth surprisied Mai with the length, strength and dexterity of hers. However Mai first defended against Ruth’s attacks then gradually wore her down, forced her tongue aside and finally fucked her mouth with her tongue. She raised her head triumphantly and shook it proudly after Ruth broke off the kissing battle, and I could see the glint of battle in her eyes.

She screamed at Ruth, “A fingering contest, Indian bitch,” and removed her defensive grip on Ruth’s wrist and pushed her undefended cunt forward.

Ruth screamed back, “I’m better than Indian. I am Anglo Indian, you illiterate Vietnamese rice paddy worker,” and followed her lead. The two women, Vietnamese and Anglo Indian, used their fingers on each others slit. Ruth used her long fingers, something I and many others associated with strong sexual desires, to first wetten then explore inside Mai’s cuntal tube searching for her G spot. Mai used her middle finger to rapidly finger fuck Ruth while simultaneously rolling her large wet clit between her index finger and thumb.

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