[EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Haibane on 27-07-2010, 17:14:04</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>27-07-2010, 17:14:04</strong>
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				OH MY DOG!<br><br>An alternative parallel of our world set in contemporary times but with one major change to human history that stems from events at the time of the industrial revolution of the mid to late 1700s.<br><br>From around 1750 to 1850 a series of plagues of unknown origin and terrible efficiency wiped out from the Earth all domesticated animals. From then on the advances in medicine and an unprecedented order of world peace resulted in a sharp rise in population.<br><br>By 1900 advances in medicine and other practices and the crushing weight of overpopulation led to the introduction of drastic laws. The Domestic Animals (Conversion) Laws were passed by unanimous international agreement. Each season in each city and province across nations world-wide, a certain quota of fit, healthy young people are taken by Capture Squads and converted into animals to replace those we have lost. This achieves three things: it keeps the population numbers manageable; it provides companionship for people that pets used to fill; it has reduced crime considerably - with the new animals having no rights the incidences of domestic violence, theft and particularly rape have dropped to almost zero. People take out their failings and frustrations on animals.<br><br>By 20XX there has been efficient purging of all media - books, films, the internet, all manner of visual and written records to remove all reference to original animals. Today people think 'dog' and think not of the Dalmatians, Poodles or Rottweilers of old, but of cute naked girls and boys with ears and tails and paw gloves and thigh-highs crawling happily along the streets on all fours or frolicking in the park while their amused and contented human owners look on. When a victim is taken by the Capture Squads it is tragic but routine. A fact of life everyone faces. Families mourn the lost child as though he or she were dead and life insurance policies pay out and employers are compensated for loss of business efficiency... and life goes on.<br><br>Many different types of animals are produced this way - bunnies and cats as pets; cows and sheep for milk and wool; ponies for transportation, haulage and racing; other animals for entertainment. This story concerns itself with but one type - man's best friend... <em>Canis lupus familiaris</em>, the domestic dog.<br><br>The converted dogs have various 'Compulsory' changes - fully functioning and articulated ears and tails are added. Their old human ears remain but are non-functioning. Their bodies are enhanced with strengthened musculature and more flexible joints so that dogs are fully comfortable crawling quickly and are very flexible and strong. They can wash themselves everywhere by tongue except their backs - and their tongues are a little lengthened and much strengthened. They receive a heightened sense of smell and hearing. Their DNA is altered so that they produce exothermic energy to keep them quite warm in cold climates. The females are always neutered and the males' DNA is modified so while they still produce sperm it dies within minutes of leaving the body, making them infertile but still allowing sex with their female owners. All body hair below the eyelashes apart from tail fur is permanently removed. All dogs - and other animals then receive their most important treatment - they are lobotomised and their self-will, intelligence and memories are all wiped out. They become merely animals, dumb but happy. None can speak or has the desire to walk upright.<br><br>This results in the <em>Sotai</em> a blank animal onto which various optional changes may be added by the customer. Skin pigmentation may be altered to produce a dog-like colouring or pattern such as a shiny black for a Labrador, rich reddish-brown for a Red Setter or a spotted black and white for a Dalmatian. The human skin tone is sometimes retained though. The animals hormonal balance may be corrupted so that the dog is constantly in heat - girls are wet and ready with swollen sensitive nipples and boys are permanently erect and producing pre-copulation fluids. Females may be made to lactate in a controlled or uncontrolled manner (dog milk is renowned as a refreshing drink once pasteurized and chilled and many pet owners make money by selling it to the milkman who comes to collect each morning). Females' breast and nipple size may be altered (bigger is usually chosen, this being an almost universal change requested by most owners). The female hips or rumps may be made bigger. Male genitalia size may be increased (girth and length and testes size) - again this is an extremely common request. The DNA may be altered so that a digestive imbalance results in no solid waste being produced, but the stomach converts it all to liquid and it is released as urine. This leaves the rectum completely clean and empty to be used for playtime.<br><br>Playtime being important, for dogs became not just companions but sexual playthings too. Whether a frustrated wife whose husband was always working who needed a boy dog to mount her, to the many males unable to overcome that social barrier to meet girlfriends and for whom a sexy bitch dog who would never say no was a perfect escape, dogs have been abused by their owners. It is normal and expected in all circles, a dog is a sex toy as much as a companion. Many of the prettier girls and boys have their bodies enhanced specifically so they will make perfect 'Love Dogs'. In the parks and streets and on the beaches owners may allow their pets to mate uninhibitedly in public. Many dogs being converted to have out of control urges mate willingly and it is common to see multiple male dogs raping a lone female time after time, or even more dominant male dogs mounting more submissive males. There is no sex between owners and dogs in public however - laws forbid that, but in the privacy of your own home... you make the rules. There are no animal cruelty laws.<br><br>Dogs wear padded paws, a cloth glove into which the hand fits like a fingerless mitten which has a hardened palm surface to save damage to the once human hand and the upper surface of which is decorated in animal print furs or hair or can be coloured with zany decorative colours like fluorescent pinks or greens for fun. To save damage to the knees and the upper surface of the feet dogs wear similar gloves on their legs though these come up to high on the thigh like human stockings and a padded panel protects the knee and a hard and padded panel the foot. Again the remaining surfaces are decorated in animal fur themes or bright colours. Both paws and thigh-highs buckle on. Dogs wear collars and are led on leashes, other than that they are kept naked at all times, though sometimes owners will have cute doggy outfits made for private use, these are shunned in public since it makes the animals look too human and people may get confused.<br><br>When a dog is captured and converted it is always sold in another region of the country or sold abroad so that family members or school friends or work colleagues will never again meet. Of course there are unfortunate random exceptions to this but such cases are rare and counselling is available.<br><br>For many decades the world continued on, a happy peaceful place, though the corruption of man and his infinite ability to do harm and bring misery on his fellow man knows no bounds. The first self-aware dog was probably an accident. An animal was moved from the post- physical surgery pens to the recovery pens without going via the brain surgery process. Perhaps this first self-aware dog led a short life and was soon found out and properly converted, or perhaps he or she found a life of freedom and escapism from burdensome work or school and relished playing with its owner. Perhaps though some cruel owner discovered it could walk and talk and think and say 'no' if it wanted and subjected it to a life of harsh punishments, cruel abuse and endless rape at the hands of other dogs. No-one knows. However the news was out there in the world - sometimes the process went wrong or mistakes were made and it became a rumour and more than a rumour that someone, somewhere, if you paid enough money could get you a thinking, talking dog. A companion not only fantastic for sex but with endless other possibilities also - especially to those who are dominant, cruel and sadistic.<br><br>Eventually as man does, he organised his sadistic cruelty into a process. Men all have their price and conversion scientists were found willing to accept money to <em>not</em> lobotomise the dogs, in return they shipped the Sotai when still self-aware out to discreet and corrupt buyers and organised trafficking syndicates.<br><br>Our story concerns one such man, the mysterious and very rich French trafficker, Monsieur Marc. In Monaco he set up a club available to private members only. The fees were exorbitantly high but the privileges equally extreme. Here you could enjoy a meal, a drink, dance to music and be served drinks and food and sexually serviced by dogs. Not crawling on all fours but walking upright, wearing revealing and sexually demeaning outfits and talking. At this club, anything was possible. You could sit and sunbathe or you could take the dog up on the stage in the lounge and fuck it, or have it fuck other animals. You could rent the dogs out by the day and take them around town where of course they would behave like dogs (because if caught in public self-aware they would be put to sleep or properly converted) and so in public the members had even more fun due to the intense humiliation the dog suffered.<br><br>Why do self-aware dogs face death if caught? Because over time the Capture Squads and the laboratory assistants have become corrupt also. Most females and many males are brutally raped even while still in the trucks on the way to the pound, once there they are often abused and raped again and again. It does not matter what they suffer for soon their minds will be wiped and no-one will know what goes on behind these doors and the dogs will not remember. However if a dog were to survive it's lobotomy and get out and talk about what went on, the system would be exposed and collapse. Families would know how awful their captured daughters and sons last moments were and without the on-going pet conversion labs, society would be brought to its knees.<br><br>Therefore Monsieur Marc, his team of buyers, the corrupt lab workers and the elite members of Les Club des Affaires Étrangères are all very discreet.<br><br><hr><br>Monaco, playground of the obscenely wealthy, a high society with a dark underbelly.<br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/MonacoView.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">The marina, hotels and hillsides made famous by Grand Prix motor racing.</span><br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/MonacoMap.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Map of the Principality of Monaco and Monte Carlo, south eastern France. The CAE is marked on the map as 'Café de Paris'.</span><br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/CAE-MainEntrance.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">CAE main entrance.</span><br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/CAE-GardensPool.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Les Club des Affaires Étrangères or CAE. A view from the private apartments looking down over the pool<br>and gardens. The red-roofed building houses the dining room and lounge bar. To the left the lower longer<br>building houses the cages and training rooms.</span><br><br>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/ForeignersClubPlanv2.jpg)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Plan of the CAE (not to scale). The arrow indicates the point-of-view of the photograph above it. The lower edge of the<br>plan faces the sea (south east).</span><br><br>1 - Main Entrance<br>2 - Security<br>3 - Reception<br>4 - Reception Managers Office<br>5 - Lounge and Bar<br>6 - Bar<br>7 - Dining Room<br>8 - Kitchens<br>9 - Kitchen Stores<br>10 - Kitchen Delivery Entrance<br>11 - Poolside Bar and Buffet<br>12 - Male and Female Changing<br>13 - Residents Private Entrance<br>14 - Palm Lounge (glass roofed, colonial wicker furniture)<br>15 - Main Garden Entrance<br>16 - Dog Cages (Staff accommodation over)<br>17 - Owner Inspection Area and Indoor Run<br>18 - Dog Training, Treatment, Grooming and Punishment (Staff accommodation over). Head Trainers Office, Inspection Tables.<br>19 - Dog Trainers Door to Garden<br>20 - Trainers Vestibule to Play Lounge<br>21 - Dog and Dog Supplies Delivery (Staff accommodation over)<br>22 - Delivery Truck Yard<br>23 - Milking Shed<br>24 - Private Apartment - Monsieur Marc (private doors to access gardens, kitchens and side street)<br>25 - Sun Patio with loungers, tables, trees. Al fresco dining also.<br>26 - Pool<br>27 - Gardens<br>28 - The Play Room. While dogs may be abused anywhere on the premises, the Play Room is where the more serious organised group abuses take place. It has numerous comfortable sofas and tables, a central circular stage, various items of torture and bondage equipment and a small number of private dungeons that can be rented by the hour.<br>29 - Residents rooms, suites and apartments.<br><br>NOTE THAT THIS THREAD COVERS ONLY ROOMS 1-2-3-5-7-14, THE MAIN 'STREET FACING' PUBLIC AREAS OF THE CLUB.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>28-07-2010, 00:03:57</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size">Laurenne Merieth - Arriving at the club</span><br><br>Laurenne pulled her Ferrari Testarossa into the club's car park. She didn't bother locking it. The security here was that good. She glanced out over the Mediterranean and smiled. Her yacht wasn't the biggest in the harbour by any means, but it was there, and that is what counted! <br><br>Such a wonderful place, Monte Carlo, playground of the rich and famous. Perhaps she would take her pet to a casino, later on, show her off to the masses. She smiled. The diamond studded collar in her bag was worth almost as much as the car she had so carelessly left. She wondered idly whether any new bitches had been delivered since her last visit to this exclusive club.<br><br>Laurenne smiled at the security guard and showed her club membership pass. The guard nodded. "Mam'selle", he greeted her with a nod, passing her through. She wandered purposefully into the bar and ordered a Singapore sling, then took her drink over to a table, reclining casually for a while. She lit a cigarette. This sort of establishment didn't impose rules on its members regarding such ridiculous things as smoking.&nbsp; They paid for decent air conditioners instead!<br><br>She finished her drink and ordered another.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DngrMse</strong> on <strong>28-07-2010, 02:13:16</strong>
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				William Knoff - ARRIVING - LOUNGE<br><br>Ok, so Roulette wasn't the best way to wager money, or the best game to play while drinking.&nbsp; Still, I hadn't lost terribly much more than I'd won last week playing 21.&nbsp; Not more than twice that, I thought.&nbsp; I hoped.&nbsp; Monte Carlo was the city that truly never slept.&nbsp; I'd been to Las Vegas, and even with it's neon glow, it just could not compare to the high stakes excitement that Monaco offered.&nbsp; Lights burned bright long into the night, the sounds of cars, and people, and everything else.&nbsp; I loved this place, and even with the casino from my home town, Gatineau, paled, there was simply no comparison.&nbsp; Even when losses exceeded winnings.&nbsp; It was the excitement, the noise, the people, the women.&nbsp; &nbsp;That was what made the games fun, and after a day or two of recuperation, I'd be back at the tables again.<br><br>This morning, and it was technically afternoon, since it was pushing 1 pm, I decided to walk the short distance to the club.&nbsp; Pick up an English paper, and maybe some cigarettes, and walk the alcohol induced fuzziness out of my brain, before ordering my usual scotch and water at the club.&nbsp; It was early, for the club, but if there was nothing else going on, I'd have a drink or two, something to eat, then see what dogs were available, and perhaps take one for a walk.&nbsp; The park was always busy during the day, and evening, with lots of owners walking their dogs.&nbsp; So public, so humiliating, so many opportunities to torture just the right girl, or boy!&nbsp; <br><br>The doors were already propped open as I climbed the steps, and entering I flashed the same old guard inside my same old smile, and my pass, and walked inside the cool dark expanse of the club, heading off to my right for the lounge.&nbsp; I recognized Laurenne, and gave her a wave as I staked out a table by slapping my paper, cigarettes, and sunglasses down on it.&nbsp; Then, seeing no pets in attendance, something that should be seen too, I walked to the bar to retrieve my drink, which was waiting for me as I approached.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>28-07-2010, 03:40:59</strong>
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				RENÉE PRIDEUX - LOUNGE BAR<br><br>It was a warm sunny spring Saturday morning. I had arisen at nine to a breakfast of fruits, yoghurt and a two-egg omelette served by Francois, my yacht's chef cum waiter cum general hottie. It was rather silly, my husband Artur, the dear sweet thing, had offered to pay a full rate charter for the boat for twelve months which included retaining the captain and the engineer even though I only used the thing as a floating bedroom and a place to hold parties. Jean Thouars, the captain I never saw, I merely e-mailed him on the Sunday evening of each week to advise him I would not need him at work the next morning. I had set my computer to auto-email the same message at the same time each week, my routine never varied. <em>Pfft</em>, I assume he went off to crew other yachts or teach kids to jet-ski or something. Antoine, the engineer did at least visit once or twice a week to run his eye over the hull and the machinery and poke about in various corners to, I assume, make sure we weren't sinking. He would turn up some afternoons and run the diesels for a couple of hours which supplemented the batteries and the land-line power links and once every two weeks he would cast off and chug around the marina and go a few miles offshore and back just to run the necessary checks. On the radar thingy I think. I'm no fan of sailing. It doesn't disagree with me physically but my interests lie ashore. I always go into town at such times.<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/ReneePrideux_10.jpg)</div> Today after breakfast I went up the hill to Sainte Devote where there are a couple of nice boutiques I know. A little shopping, a new hat, some underwear, a little chat here and there with some ladies I know and by lunchtime I felt in need of a break. I made my way towards the Casino and around the square to the small white limestone and red-roofed building that sits on the far side of Casino Square, tucked back like some modestly sized old merchant's house or perhaps an old hotel now a little run down and converted to halls of residence for students at La Morsonne. But no, behind the sleepy façade lay a whole new world, a world I had discovered just six months ago and to which I was drawn more and more.<br><br>I went up the stairs and the smart security guard within politely requested my membership card which I equally politely presented. He knew me by name and I knew him, but every single person was checked, even if Prince Rainier himself had been a member, he would be asked to show his card. The security here is serious. It is mostly invisible but it is always present and all doors other than this one are always kept locked. The residents' entrance requires a digital signature to be overlaid on the membership card plus a keypad code so even if you lose your card and some undesirable person picks it up they could not gain entry.<br><br>Passing through the security vestibule past potted plants and into the restful interior with it's subdued but artsy décor and cool marble floor and pillars, I walked up to the reception desk and signed in, time and date of arrival. I would sign out on departure also, failure to do so invoked a fine.<br><br><strong>"Hello Michelle, how are you? Well I hope? Any messages for me?"</strong><br><br>Michelle smiled and advised me she was in excellent health, thank you. She enquired after my own well being and after checking the racks of pigeon holes on the duty office wall behind her turned to smile and shake her head.<br><br><strong>"Ah, a pity. No marriage proposal from Monsieur Marc then? I will continue to live in hope."</strong><br><br>Michelle smiled at my joke and stood there looking efficient and pretty. I bid her good day and turned right to enter the lounge bar. A few members were around but it was quiet - still early. The fun would begin later at dinner and then afterwards, although afternoons around the pool could get quite interesting here too. I put down my bag and my purchases and did not even need to lift a hand before Raul came over smiling like an Algerian taxi-driver who spies a pasty-skinned fresh tourist. I'm sure he was nothing like that and his intentions were always honourable, but his wide cheesy smile always made me think he'd still wear it while slitting your throat and giving all your money to his Nigerian scammer friends.<br><br>"Bonjour! Madame Prideux! Such an honour once more! You are well I trust?" Here we went, pouring on the false bonhomie. I smiled pleasantly in return, made small talk and ordered a mineral water with a slice of lemon.<br><br>Sipping my drink I tinkled the ice in my glass. Looking around the room I saw both Laurenne and William. I lifted my glass to both. They were not sitting together but I moved towards Laurenne and made some 'do please join us' gestures towards the Canadian with my hand.<br><br>I bent down, smiling to kiss Laurenne on each cheek, a polite and very French air-kiss and the slightest touch of cheek-to-cheek.<br><br><strong>"Hello my darling, so nice to see you here. Are you taking lunch? And William! How are you, it seems weeks since we last bumped into each other... we were sharing that hot little Dachsund if I remember. Did you rent her out the next day as you said or had you over-abused the poor thing?"</strong><br><br>I took a seat, put my glass down and with a hand waved Raul back over to ask for three menus.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 01:01:24</strong>
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				Laurenne Merieth - In the bar<br><br>I looked up from my second drink of the morning as two other members came in one after the other William I knew, but not too well. A vicious little rumour in society said that he had a gambling problem, but I didn't pay any attention to rumours... Unless I started them myself of course...<br><br>And then Renée entered. I returned her air kiss with a soft "Mwa mwa", and smiled. "Ahh, bonjour ma cherie! Mais oui, bien sure. You are of course joining us? non?" I giggled softly as&nbsp; Renée asked William about the Daschund. <br><br>"Do we have any new bitches arriving today? darling?" I asked hopefully. I do so want to see if there's a poodle this time... Or at least, someone with a lot of hair that I can make into one..." I made a snipping motion with my fingers and laughed.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 16:04:53</strong>
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				RENÉE PRIDEUX - LOUNGE BAR<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"You are of course joining us? non?" <br><br>"Do we have any new bitches arriving today? Darling? I do so want to see if there's a poodle this time... Or at least, someone with a lot of hair that I can make into one..."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>"I would love to join you. Have you two lunched yet?"</strong> I thanked Cheshire Cat Raul as he brought over three menus. I decided mineral water was a little boring and ordered a Ricard with lemonade and ice.<br><br><strong>"You still haven't made a purchase my love?"</strong> I enquired in some surprise, <strong>"You've been talking about buying a dog for months. I would have thought you'd have seen something to suit your naughty tastes by now - or have you broken them all with your 'test drives'?"</strong><br><br>Laurenne was notorious for her cruelty to animals, I think she almost matched me and that was saying something.<br><br><strong>"I've no idea if Marc has some fresh meat in or not, though he's been elusive round here for <em>simply weeks</em> so I am hoping he's been a busy boy and been doing some shopping. What about you William? Are you buying today or just soiling the goods like you usually do?"</strong><br><br>Raul returned with my drink. <strong>"I will have the lobster please,"</strong> I ordered, <strong>"And a Greek salad."</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DngrMse</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 20:36:42</strong>
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				William Knoff - LOUNGE<br><br>I sat down, after greeting Renée, and Laurenne, and placed my things next to me on an empty chair.&nbsp; Holding my empty glass up in the air, I rattled it's lonely ice cubes at our bartender, then picked up the menu, and gave it a cursory inspection.&nbsp; I really should eat, something, anything, as I'd gone the last 24 hours with nothing more solid in my stomach than an olive or two from a couple of martini's I'd enjoyed at the club, yesterday, before heading out to the casino.<br><br><strong>"Crab salad, Raul, please."</strong><br><br>I passed my menu to Raul, and turned my attention to the women, <strong>"I heard there's a new girl in the Kennel, not mine though.&nbsp; I believe she's a club dog."</strong>&nbsp; My bitch still hadn't arrived yet, but she was an expensive, and special order.&nbsp; She'd come, when she came.&nbsp; Hopefully soon.&nbsp; Ever since being accepted as a full member, I'd been consumed with the idea of breaking in my own special pet, and some months ago, I'd finally written a draft, and placed my order with Monsieur Marc, and arranged to have the bitch kenneled at the club, and available for the other club members to torment.&nbsp; <strong>"I've ordered a pet of my own, Renée, but she has not been delivered yet.&nbsp; I trust I can count on you to help break her in?"</strong><br><br>My drink arrived, and I gave a grateful nod to Raul, and took a long refreshing sip before setting the chilled glass on the table.<br><br><strong>"I did rent that Dachsund out, but I made a terrible mistake.&nbsp; I let her drink, and every inhibition she possessed fled her.&nbsp; I was forced to bind her, arms and legs to keep her from pleasuring herself again and again on that rounded knob on the leg of my dining table.&nbsp; I swear she actually rubbed the varnish off, and exposed bare wood."</strong><br><br>I wondered if she was still in the club's kennels.&nbsp; If so, and if my own special order was not delivered soon, I contemplated renting her out for day, and tormenting her, possibly sharing her with Renée, and Laurenne too, if they were of a mind to have a little fun.&nbsp; I made a mental note to check the kennels after I'd satisfied my hunger.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 18:45:44</strong>
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				RENÉE PRIDEUX - LOUNGE BAR<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I've ordered a pet of my own, Renée, but she has not been delivered yet. I trust I can count on you to help break her in?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>"Oh? I thought you'd never order your own pet, you with your fussy standards. I mean finding a virgin dog is almost impossible and finding a talking virgin dog is such a difficult order I'm surprised Monsieur Marc thought seriously to cast his net wide enough. But if he has found you one then she'll be a pretty price... so... you know my dear, be careful you don't gamble too much away."</strong> I winked at him over the rim of my glass. I had heard the stories of William staying up at the card tables all night and I knew never to expect to win at the casinos. For me going there was a social thing, a place to meet friends, to talk and have fun. I almost always lost - you only had to look at the places to realise the odds were stacked against you, but it bothered me that William seemed to think otherwise; that he could win. <strong>"It would be tragic to finally have the puppy of your dreams within reach then be unable to afford her, non?"</strong><br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I did rent that Dachsund out, but I made a terrible mistake. I let her drink, and every inhibition she possessed fled her.&nbsp; I was forced to bind her, arms and legs to keep her from pleasuring herself again and again on that rounded knob on the leg of my dining table.&nbsp; I swear she actually rubbed the varnish off, and exposed bare wood."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> I laughed out loud, <strong>"Let that be a lesson to you. Never mix alcohol and pets. That's what my old grandma used to say. Well, actually she said 'never mix alcohol and sex' but that makes no sense at all."</strong><br><br>Laurenne ordered her meal and our food arrived. We ate at our table in the lounge. I liked eating in there, the informal atmosphere was fun. Within an hour we were finished. I washed down my dessert with a second Ricard and then, my head pleasantly a-buzz with the anise flavoured alcohol, found myself in a mood to go look at The Cages and see if anything new and fun and vulnerable had come in.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DngrMse</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 20:50:57</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The crab salad was excellent, and surprisingly filling, and coupled with the warm soft buzz of my two drinks, I was feeling much more human, as I pushed my empty plate away from me.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Oh? I thought you'd never order your own pet, you with your fussy standards. I mean finding a virgin dog is almost impossible and finding a talking virgin dog is such a difficult order I'm surprised Monsieur Marc thought seriously to cast his net wide enough. But if he has found you one then she'll be a pretty price... so... you know my dear, be careful you don't gamble too much away."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br><strong>"He informed me it was difficult, but possible, and would of course be very expensive, which is why I waited so long before approaching him again, and informing him of my decision to purchase a dog of my own.&nbsp; Now, I'm reduced to waiting, and tormenting the club's dogs, until mine arrives."<br></strong><br>I finished off my drink, and thumped the empty glass down on the table before continuing, <strong>"I will certainly not go broke any time soon Renée, though not for lack of trying." </strong> I grinned, and gathered up my things, tucking my still unopened pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket, along with my sunglasses, and standing, shoved my unread paper in my back pocket.<br><br><strong>"I hear there is a new club bitch in the kennels.&nbsp; Would either, or both of you like to go investigate with me?"</strong>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>31-07-2010, 21:01:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Laurenne Merieth - In the bar<br><br>I looked up at Raul. "Ah, bon, je veu Potage poireaux et pommes de terre Émincé de veau à la sauge, Riz aux courgettes suivi par Fromage blanc et Salade de fruits." <br><br>Raul nodded "D'accord, Mademoiselle". He hurried off with the orders.<br><br>I switched back to English (or at least, patois) for the benefit of William. <br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"You still haven't made a purchase my love? You've been talking about buying a dog for months. I would have thought you'd have seen something to suit your naughty tastes by now - or have you broken them all with your 'test drives'?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>"Non, not yet. I 'ave been waiting for ze someone special, to come along...." I had my own ideas about what constituted a perfect pet. Female, for starters, pretty, and with enough tolerance to pain that she would be able to stand my treatment of her without going catatonic. I'd paid a couple of pretty hefty fines to the club for returning their goods damaged beyond repair in the past few years. <br><br>My food arrived and I tucked in with gusto. France has the finest cuisine in the world. True, Monaco isn't strictly part of France, but it's French enough not to matter. And of course the excess of money in the principality attracted the finest chefs. The club employed a really good one, which is one of the main reasons I chose to eat here.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">It would be tragic to finally have the puppy of your dreams within reach then be unable to afford her, non?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Ah mais oui, mon cher. You must be more careful wiz ze monnaie.<br><br>I chuckled at William's tale of the bitch who wore out his dining table. That must have been something to behold. I could not resist a taunt, being French. "A pity you could not satisfy her yourself, n'est-ce pas?"<br><br>I finished my dessert, and finished my second drink.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I hear there is a new club bitch in the kennels.&nbsp; Would either, or both of you like to go investigate with me?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Bien sûr, mes amis, let us proceed..." I pushed myself out of my chair. "I am in ze mood for walkies!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>31-07-2010, 23:11:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				RENÉE PRIDEUX - LOUNGE BAR<br><br>I smiled at Laurenne's little joke at William's expense about him not being able to satisfy that randy little Dachshund.<br><br><strong>"Or just buy a suction dildo and slap it on the kitchen floor and let her get on with it, there's no need to ruin perfectly good furniture my sweet."</strong><br><br>Lunch was soon over and we rose from the table. <strong>"I am feeling generous today, please allow me."</strong> I signed the bar bill, gifting the meal to my companions. It was just a trifle but I liked to be kind with small gestures. It would be charged to my account. It was one thing I liked about The Club, there was never anything so crass as cash being handed over at all.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Bien sûr, mes amis, let us proceed... I am in ze mood for walkies!"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <strong>"In that case let's go meet the puppies."</strong><br><br>I spoke to Raul and within seconds one of the middle managers appeared from reception. With a polite smile and a gesture to follow he showed us through the palm lounge and into The Cages (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=76933.msg3391847#msg3391847).
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lithos</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 20:19:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>MARK JACOBSEN - ENTERING THE CLUB &amp; LOUNGE BAR </strong><br><br>I was lounging on the back seat of his Bentley enjoying the street view from the darkened side windows. 'Another good day' I mused as the light breeze from the air conditioner swept my face. It had taken a while to get this far but it had sure been worth it. Nice evening at the club and perhaps some strolling after would make perfect end for it. <br><br><strong>“And here we are, Sir, just leave you at the front?” </strong><br><br>Kent, my driver,&nbsp; asked from the front as he&nbsp; nodded towards the parking lots and club entrance. I found long ago that I prefer the freedom to drink and consume what I wished at my off time, and even though the law is never really a problem here if one has enough money – my own safety sure is. I have found that having a driver of my own allows me to enjoy my days a lot better. <br><strong><br>“Yeah, just leave me here and I will message you if and when I need to go somewhere. It will be a while, relax and have a drink or two if you want for few hours.” </strong><br><br>I told him in relaxed tone and made one more check on my attire as the car rolled to stop at the front. It was a nice day and I was dressed for lounging more than for any official occasion. my dress shoes and white slacks were top notch as was his short sleeved black dress shirt, but I always tended to wear them haphazardly in my own style. My shirt was usually always untucked, few buttons open from the top – it was my free time so I did not really care. <br><br>With New&amp;Lingwood shoes, and slacks and shirt from House of Brioni, it was very expensive way to dress more casually, but I have stopped thinking about money in that way. What good is it if you do not use it anyway? I stepped out of the car to the entrance, and took my membership pass from my breast pocket to show to the guard who came to greet me as soon as I walked to the doors. Polite greeting, quick but very professional inspection of the pass, everything here was smooth and convenient. <br><br>I strode inside and to the lounge bar as soon as the formalities were over and I got in. I was not in a hurry to anywhere for once, so I went to sit at the bar desk, relaxing and taking in to the surroundings to see who were around. I was not really in the mood for getting drunk so I simply ordered a pint of Trappist Westvleteren, and was surprised to find that they actually had it. Living in Europe definitely had its perks – Belgium was not all that far. Now that the most important thing was taken care of I turned to have a better look at the surroundings, surely there would be something going on at this hour.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jessica</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 21:59:28</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Dr. Amanda Vernecoombe, Outside the club</strong><br><br>I parked my vehicle in one of the many parking bays outside the club, switching off the engine and reaching for my small suitcase, resting on the front passenger seat. Stepping out and locking the door, I couldn't help but chuckle. My car looked horribly out of place, a small economic electric model, nestled neatly between a Ferrari and a Bentley. After the accident I'd been involved in nearly 20 years ago I'd avoided driving fast cars, preferring instead smaller, energy efficient models. This model in particular was particularly nice to drive, with the added advantage that it had minimal environmental impact. We all have to play our part, as they said.<br><br>I reached down for my suitcase, shaking my head and sighing softly to myself. Every year I promised that I'd not bring any research papers or a notepad, and just enjoy time with the pets the club offered. And here I was, carrying with me two writing pads and a thick, fifty two page document entitled, "The effect of modified leg restrainers on Spanish and Portuguese pet behavior circa 1988". It was a crushingly dull paper, and one I'd been forced to proof read and annotate by one of my colleges at Cambridge University. Still, that was my job, and that was what paid my wages.<br><br>Walking up to the main entrance and offering my membership card to the security guard at the door I strolled into reception, glad it was empty, barring the receptionist of course. Whilst there was nothing wrong with the people at the club, most were bored to tears by my main conversational topics. Leaning down, I dug into my suitcase, pulling out two envelopes to hand into reception.<br><br>One was addressed to 'Professor Anton Paperwaithe', a Moroccan professor who now taught at Cairo University. It was he who had recommended the club to me, being a long standing member of at least seven or eight years, and also he who had recommended me to the club. I'd met him when he travelled over to the UK for few months, helping the Museum I worked at catalog a new set of items, and from then on I'd kept close regular contact with him via email, exchanging research pieces and whatnot. In his envelope was a small note wishing him well, plus a couple of hundred euros, a combined birthday and Christmas present. Anton only came to the club during the Winter months, when he had no teaching commitments, and as a result few people had ever met him, much less talked to him socially. He always appreciated the money, having a colossal weakness for the expensive spirits the club sold.<br><br>The other was a joint birthday card addressed to 'Miss C. Norrington and Ellissa'. Celia Norrington (though few actually knew her first name) was a rather mysterious figure at the club, a long standing member of over a decade, and one of its largest beneficiaries. Ellissa was her personal pet, having been with Norrington for as long as anyone at the club could remember. An unusual free thinking pet like those at the club, she was treated with the utmost care by Norrington, and was treated very differently to the other pets the club possessed. The very fact that birthdays cards were addressed to both of them (both sharing birthdays in the same week) was testament to her unique position. No-one ever knew when the pair flew down for their annual fortnight holiday, so it was always customary to leave their card at reception.<br><br><strong>"If you would be so kind as to offer these cards to their respective addressees when they arrive?"</strong> I asked the receptionist, handing her the two cards.<br><br><em>"Of course Doctor Vernecoombe"</em> smiled the receptionist, taking the cards and placing them in two separate pigeon holes. <em>"Can I help you with anything else?"</em><br><br><strong>"No, thank you."</strong> I smiled back, adjusting the glove delicately on my left hand. <strong>"I will be checking into a local hotel for a few days, I am required to finish a piece of work before I can indulge myself."</strong><br><br><em>"Work before pleasure eh?"</em> The receptionist laughed, picking up a scrap of paper from her cluttered desk and writing down a number and a name. <em>"Call this number, and ask for Capucine. Tell her your membership number, and you'll get a 75% discount at the Boscolo Exedra, a beautiful hotel very close to here. I've stayed there a few times myself."<br></em><br><strong>"Thank you."</strong> I nodded, taking the paper from her and folding it neatly into my coat pocket. <strong>"I will do that. Hopefully I shall be back within a few days."</strong><br><br><em>"Sure thing Miss. Verncoombe. Have fun!"</em> The receptionist winked at me as I left the cool air conditioned reception, and back into the baking sun. Time to make a phone call...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zillah</strong> on <strong>04-08-2010, 01:21:17</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				SVETLANA ROMANKO - ENTERING THE LOUNGE BAR<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://www.emeraldlich.com/uploads/Svetlana1.jpg)</div>I entered Les Club des Affaires Étrangères six hours later than I was supposed to. I had a splitting headache, I was slightly drunk, and I was very, very pissed off.<br><br>Not a good combination.<br><br>The whole thing, to be honest, was my idiot assistant's fault. Now she was an idiot former assistant, and I fully intended to make Monsieur Marc and his team of buyers aware of the dumb cunt, so a collection squad could go pick her up. I wanted nothing more than to see a pack of dogs raping the stupid bitch over and over again. <em>Making me late,</em> I thought, <em>is <strong>not</strong> acceptable.</em><br><br>Especially not on a day when new dogs were being brought in.<br><br>I'd been partying in Vegas the previous day, laughing with some of my nearest and dearest American friends at a casino opening. I'd caught the redeye from Vegas to New York, then to Nice, followed by a limo ride to finally to Monte Carlo. Except the flight in New York had been delayed. <em>Unacceptable.</em> Then once I'd landed in Nice, there'd been a mix-up with the limo service, and I was forced had to wait even more. <em>Very unacceptable.</em><br><br>So here I was, finally at Les Club ... and all the sweet, pretty fragile dogs worth breaking were probably already gone.<br><br>"Mother<em>fucker</em>," I hissed under my breath.<br><br>I strode up to the bar, walking like I was on a catwalk. To be honest, I didn't really know how to walk any other way, considering how much walking I'd done in fashion shows in Paris, Milan, Tokyo, and god only knew how many other places. I'd worn a sleek black-and-silver designer dress, which featured high slits up to the thigh to accentuate my long legs ... and a pair of five inch designer silver heels, which wouldn't even be available in the high end shops until next year. I'd hoped to make quite the entrance, and make a few heads turn. But at the moment, I didn't care.<br><br>The drooling imbecile of a bartender wasn't paying attention to me. I snapped my fingers, glaring at him. I glanced idly around as he scurried over, looking about for my friends ... Laurenne, Renée ... no one was there. <em>Already playing with the choicest of dogs,</em> I thought bitterly. I looked up at the bartender without a trace of a smile.<br><br>"Vodka martini. Your best. Now. Or I'll cut your balls off," I snapped. "And have someone bring Svetlana's crop to me. If you don't know what that means, you're a fucking idiot, so call Michelle. She'll know."<br><br>Michelle came over to me faster than my martini. I silently noted than. Michelle was such a dear, I kissed her lightly on the cheeks and complimented her lovely shoes (and listened to her fawn over mine). She gave me my riding crop, with the small diamonds in the handle. I thanked her, promised I'd speak to her later about other pleasantries, and took my tardy martini from the bar, sipping at it. <br><br>I'd hoped to speak to Monsieur Marc, but I really didn't want to risk the chance that all the new dogs would be gone. So I hoped he'd forgive my rudeness and headed straight for the cages (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=76933.0) instead.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Oh my dog! [Club des Affaires Étrangères - Public Rooms]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jessica</strong> on <strong>04-08-2010, 14:41:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Dr. Amanda Vernecoombe, Room 109 of the Boscolo Exedra</strong><br><br><em>"..and with the addition of double spring loaded joints, as patented by John Laker Watt in 1987, the apparent mobility of fitted dogs decreased inversely in relation to..."</em><br><br>I sighed, rubbing my forehead. This paper was dull, no two ways about it. Dr. Drickamer, its author, always had a knack for making even the most interesting topics soul crushingly dull, and this one was no exception. To make matters worse, I'd gotten seven pages in and had so far found only one mistake, and that had been a misplaced comma which I had already circled in blue ink. Drickamer's work rarely contained typos, or incorrect references, or.. well, anything that wasn't right. It was a wonder he still sent them off for independent peer-review after nearly forty years in academia.<br><br><em>"...their ability to engage in certain locomotive actions. Indeed, the potency of the double spring loaded joints was such that..."</em><br><br>It was no good. I was struggling to maintain my focus, not helped by the knowledge that several streets away there was a mass of dogs that were just waiting to be studied. It was a shame I couldn't write any articles or reports pertaining to them- Monsieur Marc had been very insistent on that point when I emailed him several years ago, asking him if it were possible. His response had been short, and to the point.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: &nbsp;Monsieur Marc, Re: Academic studies at the club</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><em>'No public academic reports are to be written. All studies are to be kept private. Sincerely, Mounsieur Marc."</em></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <br><br>And that had been that.<br><br>I slipped the article back into its plastic folder, and rummaged in my bag for one of my spiral notepads. Placing it and my engraved silver fountain pen in my handbag I left the room, locking the door behind me and making my way through reception and out into the street and the baking sun. It was only a five minute walk to the club, which allowed me to leave my car in its carpark, for which I was grateful- no car had ever been stolen from the club carpark. Although in fairness I thought, chuckling quietly, who'd pick a dinky electric car over a Ferrari or a Porsche?<br><br>* * * * *<br><br><strong>Dr. Amanda Vernecoombe, Reception</strong><br><br><em>"Back again so soon Doctor?</em>" the receptionist asked as I walked in, smiling politely at me. I returned the smile.<br><br><strong>"I am indeed. I cannot stand to look at that report for a minute longer. I really do need to spend time some more interesting animals. I wonder, are there any dogs or bitches that are new in? I rather fancied the idea of breaking them in this year. I belive that is the correct word to use?"</strong><br><br>The receptionist nodded once, considering. Whilst the doctor had yet to break in a new arrival, she had been a member of the club for around five or six years, and owned regular animals for even longer, so she was by no means a novice. Neither was she stupid; she had a Ph.D for heaven's sake! The receptionist smiled, pulling out her PDA.<br><br><em>"I'll have a look for you Doctor Vernecoombe. There were a few new ones in this week, but unfortunately most have already been taken out. Let me take a peek anyway."</em> Several seconds passed in silence. <em>"O...K... you're in luck. We have a few left. We have a Jack Russell Terrier, male, named Scamp, a Welsh Corgi, female, named Mimi, and... hmm..." She scrolled down the remaining list of dogs and bitches. "I'm afraid that's all we have left in the way of new dogs. If you'd like you can go round to the cages, see if either of them catch your eye?"</em><br><br>I nodded. Of course most of the new dogs had gone. The early bird catches the worm, as they said. Still, I had a chance.<br><br><strong>"Thank you. I'd like to have a closer look at them both, along with their paperwork. If neither seem suitable, I suppose I shall settle for one of the experienced ones"</strong><br><br>The receptionist nodded, pressing a button, summoning one of the trainers to escort me to the cage room. Within seconds Monique Ribault appeared in reception.<br><br><em>"Doctor Vernecoombe. A pleasure to see you again"</em> she lied. It was no secret neither of us got on well together. I did not approve of most of her methods, and she was not fond of people like myself, who she called 'book smarts'.<br><br><strong>"Ms. Ribault"</strong> I said curtly, taking a second to briefly shake hands with her. Very briefly. We made our way to the cages in silence.
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