Rich Bitch Pt. 01

Story Info
I become rich and start my journey to becoming a cougar.
12.4k words
4.64
51.3k
39

Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 07/09/2018
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
slimpic11
slimpic11
269 Followers

I hope you enjoy this story.

Edited by DRGRIFFIN

Introduction

My name is Dr. Mercedes Ricci. Yes, Italian. I am forty-two years old as I write this story. I have a PhD in Electrical Engineering from Georgia Tech. I am the founder and majority owner of a technology firm that invents devices used in security systems. Yes, I am a Rich Bitch!

I grew up in a small town in Georgia, smartest person in my small high school but weird and ostracized by my fellow students. Mostly my problem. I couldn't relate to anyone and had no friends. Plus, I spent all my time on my studies and trying to make money for college. Luckily, I received an academic scholarship to Georgia Tech. This allowed me to go to that university and pay for my education by working part time jobs. Again, I spent my time working on my studies and making what money I could. But as a result, I finished top of my class and achieved my PhD when I was twenty-five.

While I was at the top of my class, I had few if any interpersonal skills. I was a female in a male dominated field and saw males as the enemy. In engineering the dominate trait was macho. There was little time to care about anyone else's feeling much less your own. There was only winning and achieving. This environment made me hard. At least I blame the environment. Being female, I thought I needed to outdo my male competition. I became a very macho female, able to hide my femininity. People were intimidated by me. It was natural anyway because of my intellect but I made it worse, maybe not on purpose but still I used intimidation as a defense mechanism. In short, I developed the skill of being a hard-assed bitch.

My ability to be macho was only enhanced by my physical appearance. I am a big girl. By the time I got to college, I was five-feet ten and around two hundred pounds. And to be honest my weight only increased in college. I hardened my appearance by cutting my curly black hair severely short, wore no make-up, and dressed in the most masculine way I could. My typical campus dress was baggy cargo pants and bulky shirts. I can carry a lot of weight for a female. You see I have large breasts and a big round ass. But at over two hundred pounds these features were hidden in fat. Both my breasts and ass were flabby.

I dated only a few boys during the entirety of my educational experience. I wasn't the least bit interested in dating the people I was competing with so fiercely. I am also sure that I never gave a boy a reason to be interested. The few dates I had were with geeks like me and they all ended in some kind of argument. With me beating them down through intimidation and intellectual bullying. I did have a lesbian experience with a roommate. While I enjoyed playing around with my roommate, I didn't think I was gay. But it did give me some sexual experience. The one lasting effect of this was good techniques for pleasuring myself.

After college

After receiving my PhD, I went to work for a defense contractor in North Carolina. For three years I developed an expertise in electromagnetics. In my work, I began to see commercial applications for the types of innovations we were working on in the security field. I quit the security of the big firm to develop one of my ideas outside the defense industry. It took six months and all the money I had saved and could borrow to develop a prototype of the security sensor I had envisioned and file for a patent.

With the patent filed, I looked for an angel investor. There was one investor I particularly wanted to hear my pitch. He had some experience starting the type of firm I had in mind. After a lot of phone calls and endurance on my part I got a meeting. I gave them a business plan, a high-level description of the device and description of the patent application. That got me an invitation to make a presentation.

When I was working for the defense firm, my dress remained the same. My macho intimidating bitch act was honed to perfection. For this presentation, I took my last dollars and bought a cheap hard-ass business woman outfit. I thought it hid any femininity and as much fat as possible. The presentation and follow-up questions lasted for two grueling days. At the end of the two days and all questions answered I felt good about my prospects. The key argument was that the patent was defensible and would be granted. The angel investor on the second day had a patent attorney interrogate me.

For the next few days I was on pins and needles. Then I got a call to come in the next afternoon. I was to meet with Mr. Ned Freedman. He was the primary partner in this firm. I knew if he said 'Yes' the deal would be done. He had a reputation of being a hard sell and a hard man. Mr. Freedman was old. I knew he was a widower with two grown children. His children hadn't done much with their opportunity. They both lived far away from him. By outward appearances, his children were spoiled rich kids.

When I arrived at Mr. Freedman office, much to my surprise I was to meet only with him.

He said, "The team is really impressed with you and with your proposition. I think there is a deal to be done."

I kept my cool, "Well great. How do you see this deal being made?"

He said, "Hold on. I know all about you. You know we researched every aspect of you and your life so far."

I said, "I was sure you had. Is something wrong?"

He smiled, "No, but what do you know about me?"

I told him. He again smiled and said, "Yes that is me. So, you know that I am an old man with a lot of money and a business that is very valuable. You also know that neither of my children are worthy to inherit the business or my money for that matter."

He waited for me to say something, but I knew better.

He smiled, "Good. You realize there are times it is better to keep your mouth shut. There are two ways we can go here. The one you proposed with us being your angel investor. Of course, we are going to take all we can from you for your work. We know you are down to your last dollar. I imagine that outfit was the last of your money. So, we will make a deal, but you won't like it. I suspect you will take our offer anyway because you won't have a choice. But there is a unique opportunity I want to present you." He paused before saying, "Marry me."

To say I was shocked is an understatement. Not only had I not had sex with a male but was not interested in men at all. Plus, he was old. I was stunned. He waited for me to say something. I finally said, "Why would I do that? I don't know you."

"I am going to die soon. I am not guessing about that. I want someone to take over my business. I believe in you. I will give you money to develop your security sensor firm, complete freedom to do that, and not get in your way. Our firm will provide all the expertise you need. You get to keep most of that business. Far more than if we are just the angel investor."

"What are you getting? Look I realize you couldn't want me for sex. I know I am an unappealing bitch."

He said, "Exactly. Oh, I may want to fuck you occasionally, but I have professionals for that. No, I want you to leave me alone to my vices. What I want is for someone to take over my portion of the investment business when I pass. You will never change the name of the firm. You will also take care of my children but force them to be responsible citizens. While I don't want them to have all this money, I want them cared for. In short, you take care of my interest and you get funding for your business and retain ownership. This is more a business transaction than a marriage."

I said, "I need a couple of days to consider this. Just to be clear what happens if I say no."

"Then we go to war over how much of your future security sensor business we take from you in return for our investment and business expertise."

After a couple of days of very hard consideration, I did the obvious. I married him. The business was incorporated as Ricci Sensors (RS).

The marriage that made me a rich uncaring bitch

We were married the following week in a judge's office with two witnesses, Mr. Freedman's secretary and the CEO. At twenty-nine, I was married and fucked for the first time in my life all on the same day. To say it was unsatisfying is an understatement. No need to describe it. Neither of us enjoyed it. He was true to his word. After that one time, he never asked me again and I didn't volunteer. He had a haram of high end prostitutes that took care of him sexually.

He lived long enough for my security sensor business to be successful and for me to step more into the investor side of the business. He lived for ten years. Far longer than either of us expected. Before he passed away I found someone to run the security sensor business while I still provided the vision and direction. I became the Chairman of the Board for the security sensor business and started working with Mr. Freedman on his investment business. Even at eighty his mind was really good. It was sad to see his body failing him. His business is called the Freedman Investor Syndicate (FIS). They did mainly angel investing. In most cases they or we took a large stake from the entrepreneurs and provided management discipline. I liked this. It fit my personality. I didn't have to be nice to anyone in this position.

Getting out of the daily operation of my sensor business forced me to reconsider my life. I was thirty-nine. Soon to be a widow. Rich beyond belief. But with no real joy in my life. Just running multiple business wasn't enough.

So, when Mr. Freedman passed, I took over his role as the primary partner in Freedman Investor Syndicate (FIS). I honored all his wishes, gladly, as his executor and primary heir.

He had a lot of money go to charities. This appealed to me. It made me feel better about myself. It also gave me a lot of contacts. Mr. Freedman had done his research on the charities. He was good to his word on the ownership of FIS. With his death, I received 51% of that business. Additionally, we were within months of taking my sensor business public. Something I badly wanted to do.

I had a contentious relationship with his children. It was very chilly. Of course, they were there for the reading of the will. I understood why he had made the deal with me. They were snot nosed spoiled kids with no redeeming characteristics. They thought they could intimidate me into giving them all their father's money against his will. Well little did they know they were against the master of intimidation with the law on my side. At the end of weeks of threats and legal wrangling they gave in. Just as Mr. Freedman wanted, a trust was established with me as the executor.

A few months later Ricci Sensor went public. I was rich and on paper with the value of RS stock going up, I was filthy rich and only got richer as time passed.

What to do now?

To say the least, there was a big hole in my life. I had no friends. I didn't care about anyone but myself. I had never been in love with anyone other than my parents. I still enjoyed working at FIS and watching over RS. But these entities only needed me to provide leadership. I had been working seventy plus hours a week since I was ten. I now wanted something different.

After Mr. Freedman's death, after fighting and winning against his kids, the IPO being completed and my role with FIS and RS established, I was at a crossroads. In a large house that was now mine, with the help gone, I had a bottle of wine and took stock. It was Saturday night, I had no idea what to do with myself. I wished I had a friend to talk to.

I looked at myself in the mirror nude after drinking a bottle of wine. I was fat and out of shape. My breasts were melons that hung almost to my waist. I looked like a milk cow. My stomach overhung my Mons Pubis. My ass hung slack and my legs had no shape. My face was slack. I had multiple chins. My eyes had too much fatty tissue around them. I was disgusting. There was nothing feminine about me. My pussy was even ugly, hairy and fat.

Then I considered who I was. My only interpersonal skill was to be right and able to argue anyone into submission. I knew how to win but no idea how to relate.

I sat on the floor and cried for the first time in my adult life. Now I'm not asking for sympathy just understanding why I took the next steps. I decided I wanted men. My conclusion was that I would be able to solve my interpersonal problem with men. After all, I related more to men. I was at least as competitive as they. I decided, I wanted to become desirable to men. I thought if I could solve the physical issues, I would figure out how to attract men. And with men I would have friends. I didn't think love was ever in the cards for me, but I thought just being with men would be enough. In my thinking, a committed relationship with one man wasn't what I was looking for. I wanted men friends.

So, the next week I told both RS and FIS boards that I would be taking a month off. I signed myself up for a high-end fat farm in California. This was where the Hollywood types went. It worked to a certain extent. They got a lot of the weight off. When I left my weight was 170 pounds. A weight I hadn't seen since High School. What's better they changed my lifestyle. An exercise regime and complete change in eating habits. I had high goals. Realize I am a type A. To achieve what I wanted looks wise would require surgery. But they didn't want to do surgery until I had worked more on my physique with diet and exercise.

When I got back home, I gave my cook strict instructions on diet and told her it was her responsibility to make me stick to the regime. I hired a personal trainer. I spent the next three months working hard as I always do. I also wanted RS and FIS running smoothly before I took the next big step.

I worked off as much fat as I could to tighten my body as much as possible before I took the next step. They had advised that I needed cosmetic surgery to achieve what I wanted. They were honest with me that I had let myself go too far. The fat farm had me in contact with a cosmetic specialty facility and top surgeons. They were supposed to be the best.

I went to Hayward Cosmetic Surgery Center in California weighing 150 pounds. The lightest I had been since high school. The surgeries would be done over a couple of weeks with two weeks for recovery and physical therapy. The day after I got there they did surgery on my breasts. When I started the weight loss my breasts were full melons, after the weight loss my boobs sagged significantly. The surgeons did both mastopexy and augmentation on my breasts. The goal was to both lift and make them look fuller. I wasn't really looking for larger.

There was a lot of discomfort the following week, but the convalescent center did everything they could to keep me comfortable. Just when the pain was subsiding the second set of surgeries were done. I had the multiple chins removed and eyelid tightened. Additionally, around my middle they did cool-sculpting to take away the fat I hadn't been able to eliminate with exercise. With that done I spent the remainder of the time convalescing and in physical therapy.

Back in North Carolina, I was optimistic about the hard work on my body. With the surgeries, I was far more physically attractive. I was told that it would take a few months for my body to completely heal but even the first time I looked in the mirror at home I was very pleased. My chin and eyelids were still a little bruised and obviously still a little swollen, but I couldn't see any scars. My face looked so much different. Clearing away the fat, fixing my chin and eye allowed some of my good feature to appear. My chin line was now smooth skin, no sagging and very pleasant to look at. The eye surgery made my eyes look much larger. I had dark eyes that were now dramatic looking even without make up. My olive complexion was now smooth and tight over my high cheek bones.

My body was completely different. With all the exercise, my legs were honed, muscular and looked longer. My stomach was almost flat with just a little fat left at the navel. My hips were still large, measuring forty inches. But my butt no longer sagged. It was still fleshy, but it was fleshy with a perfect shape.

But what really stood out were my breasts. They were still a little swollen, but the shape was now almost perfect. They were full and stood high on my chest. They were full perfect cones with just the slightest sag. I always had large pink puffy areolas but now they showed so nicely on my perfectly shaped breasts. Before my breasts were sagging so much that the beautiful color, round shape and size of the areolas was distorted by the fat. What's more the surgeon had minimized the scar. Around the areolas the scar was already the color of the areola and I thought in a few mouths would be completely gone. There was a faint red line running from the bottom of the areolas to the bottom of the breasts. But again, I thought it was fade to almost nothing in a few months.

In addition to overhaul of my body, I had professionals come to the house to upgrade my makeup and wardrobe. I still wanted to look professional at work but with a softer look. I allowed my dark black wavy hair to grow to shoulder length. The hair stylist gave me a far softer feminine style. The makeup specialist accentuated my high broad cheek bones, long black eyelashes, dark eyes, full broad lips and smooth olive skin. When I looked in the mirror I thought someone had replaced Mercedes Ricci with Sophia Loren.

I return to work after my physical make over

I was very anxious about my first day back. I got up early and did my now daily five am workouts. The workouts had gotten progressively harder. I was on my fifth personal trainer. I didn't think any of them pushed me hard enough. My weight had remained at about 150 pounds. But with my height, the experts at the Hayward advised me to stay at this weight for the optimum balance between being healthy and attractive.

My anxiety increased as I showered, applied make up and dressed for work. I looked in the mirror wearing a yellow business suit and couldn't believe the change. The yellow jacket showed the start of my cleavage. With a skirt two inches above the knee was so different than the black or grey suit that covered from the neck to well below the knee before. The top was far more form fitting and showed an hour glass figure. The skirt showed off the rapid flare from a tighter stomach and broad fleshy hips.

My face was now completely different. Instead of fat folds it was smooth contours with large dark expressive eyes. I wondered if people would take me seriously. I was determined however to continue being the hard-driven business person I had been before the physical make over. I shouldn't have been concerned about this. I had decades to develop the hard-driven personality that couldn't be replaced over night with cosmetic surgery.

I was picked up at my usual 8am time and driven to the office. My driver, Proctor, had been with me for many years. He was employed at FIS as part of Corporate Security. I was considered a Key Person and as such I had to have Security when I traveled for business including to and from home. Proctor was almost always the Security Personnel that traveled with me. Proctor may have been the closest person I had to a friend. He was the only person at work I ever discussed anything approaching their personal lives. Proctor was getting older and would retire soon.

Proctor was holding the rear door for me of the company limo, "Good morning Miss."

"Good morning Proctor. Have you missed me?"

"I have Miss. And may I say you look lovely. I just can't believe the change. I am sure you are pleased."

slimpic11
slimpic11
269 Followers