I really think that we even dislike each other.’ ‘The only thing that we now have in common is money and the drive to climb over the bodies of everyone else in the pursuit of money. ‘What a bunch of evil bitches we are,’ thought Aisha to herself as she looked at her friends.
Everyone had met her ruthless streak at some point and never seen the interior vulnerability, that was never, ever, allowed to see the light of day. She ate the competition for breakfast but the money she made from them never satisfied her. All of her enemies and friends underestimated her. She had never found her colour a bar to her progress, it was just another card for her to play as she made her money in the real estate business. She had become the epitome of the self made woman. Lacking all the trappings of privilege, private education, old money and connected family. Lastly, the fourth of the ‘Queen Bitches’ was Aisha herself. But a husband? Just another concealed part of her life. A delicious hunk of a chauffeur stood by her Bentley all night without moving, rain or shine. Her husband, little spoken of, often speculated about, was never to be seen. Always diamonds, never rubies, always platinum never gold. Typically, in wine-red this evening, but black was more her colour. Veronica was cultured and quiet but when she played poker she displayed a cool ruthlessness that could have been the envy of Aisha, Chantel and Elisabeth.ĭressed in such severe but elegant style. Rich as Midas but who knew where the money came from? She certainly never talked about it. Her business cards were just a Queen of Spades and her name. Now Veronica was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Veronica had the other ten and a four that matched another in the flop. No, she definitely had a mean streak that was to be avoided at any cost. The French Orleans bike that anyone could ride. Aisha had never really liked her at all but was careful never to use her college nickname ‘Velo’. Affairs with men, of course, with women, well certainly. She held her rich but rather naive husband in the palm of her hand whilst the affairs followed each other in quick succession. Of New Orleans French extraction, domineering and direct she had gone through more surgery procedures than even she could count, but the result is stunning, a figure that made men fall at her feet and most women jealous as hell. Made her money by marrying a little rich boy, the heir to the Dearham fortune. One lesbian affair after another, all of them hushed up and the rumours were, that she was, let us be delicate here, rather violent with her partners.Ĭhantel. At fifty five she was still an attractive woman, slim and tall with a great sense of dress.
Income, several million a year and growing. What was there to say about this woman that was a compliment? Owner of a large lingerie firm that was making inroads into the European market, especially with a new range of rather more daring and fetishistic designs. Currently holding two tens with another in the flop. ‘All of us successful, all four fully in control of our lives, all four rich enough to retire tomorrow.’Įlisabeth. ‘We are the four queen bitches,’ thought Aisha to herself as she glanced at her friends. Now that both Aisha and Chantel had thrown their hands in the other two were upping their bets as the cards in the flop gathered. “He’s just making a snack for us now, he’ll be back in a few moments,” replied her friend with a slight smirk.Īisha’s other two friends were engrossed in the game. “Call Henry please,” she said to Chantel. She looked around for Henry for more to drink but he was not in the room. This was going to be an unsatisfactory night if all the cards were so hopeless. With a sigh she tossed the two cards to Chantel and declared her fold. A nine and ace, not enough to risk, too uninspiring a flop to play the bluff. Her poker hand was just as empty of hope.
Bdsm queen of spades tattoos full#
Hearts entrap you, Diamonds ensnare you, Clubs enfold you.ĪN ADULT HORROR STORY WITH SERIOUSLY ADULT CONTENT…Īisha reached for her glass but it was empty, just a couple of alcohol tears on the side of the glass showed that it had been full a few minutes before.
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