Aliza smiled broadly, threw the crumpled cigarette away and resettled herself astride the still fighting body below her, again facing her victim's upper body. As if wanting to show her victim some human kindness, she now began to caress Isabelle's breasts until her crying moderated into sobbing and then gradually changed to moaning. Once Isabelle was brought back to full abandon, Aliza took both her fat nipples, pulled them out, stretching the flesh, and suddenly turned them hard, treating them as if they were screws that refused to be loosened.
Isabelle cried out in renewed pain begging her to stop.
But Aliza just retorted with cruelty: "No my dear Isabelle, I love hurting you too much to let you go." She looked down upon Isabelle's tear drained face and laughed happily. But she let go of those nipples.
Together we watched how our girl descended into a sorrowful sobbing.
"Oh, how I love this tasty hussy," Aliza exclaimed in a hoarse voice, "I really do." She began to slide her own wet cleavage all over the flesh of Isabelle's belly. Then she moved over to her breasts, which she flattened hurtfully by her weight. Finally she shifted her crotch further up and covered our victim's crying mouth and nose, smothering her.
Thus she began to ride.
Soon Isabelle began to choke as Aliza's thumping sex cut off all air from her lungs. Her eyes panicked wildly and bulged. Her whole body started to spasm, her legs kicking furiously in the air. It was obvious how this gave Aliza the ultimate pleasure of a dedicated sadist.
Suddenly I saw how my wife's body stiffened. She gave a high pitched cry, and erupted in a most spectacular orgasm, falling forward and humping her hips all over Isabelle's squashed face. It took a while before those wildly fucking movements of her loins calmed down on poor Isabelle's choking face.
At last Aliza let a great shudder ripple through her whole body and exhausted she rolled off her twitching prey.
Slowly Isabelle regained herself, coughing convulsively and gulping for air. But now I could not anymore restrain myself. I pushed Aliza's drained body further aside, spread Isabelle's by now unresisting thighs, and sank my haunches in between. I entered her without any form of consideration, brutally pushing my furious lance all the way into her. She arched below me like a vibrant bridge, and I fucked her wildly, locking her in an iron embrace, my nails breaking the skin of her back, my teeth biting into her throat. Soon she wrapped her legs around me, locking my loins tightly. And thus we began to dance together until we both exploded in a screaming climax, in which I spurted her twisting funnel full with jets and jets of cum.
I woke in the arms of Aliza, the love of my life, just as we had all fallen asleep next to Isabelle's luke warm body. And Isabelle immediately surfaced into wakefulness too. Right away she panicked as she discovered that she was still firmly leashed by her wrists. Fearful she twisted her body as far away from us as possible. But Aliza, now brutally wakened from her sleep as well, gripped her by her hair and held her down. Isabelle fell back crying: "Nooo...! Please... nooo... not again...! Let me go... please...! But Aliza held on firmly and silenced her by forcing a smothering kiss on her mouth.
Getting up on my knees, I looked down upon the sight of this helpless woman in our bed, this heavenly gift for our weird sexual tastes. There were many bite marks on her breasts, throat and face, and her delicate skin was lined with purple stripes left there by our clawing nails. And that cigarette too had left its traces.
Aliza and I waited patiently, watching with fascination how Isabelle gradually seemed to give up her resistance, at least momentarily. Slowly Aliza began to kiss her again, first on her throat and then on her breasts. But Isabelle seemed not to enjoy it. In stead she looked up at me with desperation and whispered, "Please, Alex, please let me go... Stop her... I want to leave... please..." It was obvious that yesterday's alcohol had worn off, and that she was shocked by the realization of the situation she found herself in.
"Don't worry, Isabelle, we'll let you go." I answered, "but I think that first you should calm down a little. Take a shower. And we'll have a little breakfast. Then you're free to go."
Aliza, releasing Isabelle's hair, seemed to agree. "Well, I at least am going to shower," she said, stepping out of bed. "Hold her Alex," she added, "make sure she'll stay for breakfast." I pressed the girl back into the mattress, taking away any hope of a quick escape. Isabelle finally gave up her defiance, She let herself be clasped, keeping her eyes closed, without speaking, her body obediently passive.
Aliza disappeared into the bathroom.
When she reappeared, nude and radiant like a juicy young girl, I let go of Isabelle. "If you promise to stay for breakfast," I said, "I'll release you." She nodded silently. Carefully I untied her, and for a while she let me massage her wrists. Then I led her towards the bathroom, saying: "Now take a shower. It'll make you feel better."
She followed meekly. I stepped in with her and soaped her so beautifully ravaged body all over. She gave no indication of any kind of resistance when I pored shampoo over her hair, just firmly closed her eyes to keep the soap out. It was quite exciting actually to wash that tempting female body in my hands. My maleness returned to full bloom and soon stood rather threatening between the two of us under the poring hot water.
"Why don't you get down on your knees Isabelle," I said, as I directed the shower head into her face and her soapy hair. But she did not. In stead she opened her eyes. Seeing my standing member her eyes suddenly widened in fear. "Please..." she whispered, "Please no..." But I had become too aroused and pushed her down with force until she sank to my feet, her hair soaking under the full spray of the shower.
"Eat it!" I commanded, "take it into your mouth! Pleasure me!"
She began to cry and shook her wet head wildly, trying to push me away from her. So I slapped her face twice and grabbed her jaw. With some effort I forced her mouth open and shoved my flesh in, holding her head steady by her hair and neck. She gagged, not only because her mouth filled up to her throat, but also because of the water streaming so abundantly over her face.
I thoroughly enjoyed how she closed her lips around it and began to milk me. It did not last long. Soon, much too soon, I came with long bursts of cum. "Swallow it," I said after I had retracted my member from her. To my surprise she did, her tears of shame mixing with the showering water.
Later, at the breakfast table in the kitchen, nobody spoke. Isabelle, obviously waiting to be allowed to leave, did not dare to look us in the eyes. It was a rather awkward situation. Aliza and I, we could almost feel it physically.
The three of us drank our orange juice in silence.
"I'm sorry...," Isabelle finally spoke.
"I Should never have stayed with you."
"Please forgive me... I don't know what came over me yesterday evening."
"Maybe it was the alcohol..." she added hesitatingly.
Nobody answered. Aliza and I just sipped our coffee.
Finally it was Aliza who spoke. "Cheer up Isabelle... You shouldn't feel bad." She put some fresh toast on Isabelle's plate. "Alex and I enjoyed you intensely. We didn't have such good sex for a long time. And I have this hunch that, whatever you may feel today, last night you loved being our fucktoy. I certainly noticed how nicely your body orgasmed, and how sweetly you fell asleep next to us immediately afterwards."
Obviously those frank words greatly embarrassed Isabelle. She blushed fiercely, kept her eyes down and did not answer.
"Thinking of your husband?" I guessed.
Aliza briefly hesitated but then said: "You never liked it when he beat you up, didn't you?" It sounded almost like a statement in stead of a question.
Isabelle reacted confused and suddenly became very emotional, close to tears. Aliza, sensing she had touched a raw nerve, put a consoling hand on her shoulder. But as if stung by a wasp Isabelle jumped off her chair and made for the door. There was a loud bang when the front door was smashed closed.
We were left in silence.
"I think we went too far," I finally said, "she's probably not able to walk the distinguishing line between being a beaten wife and a pleasured masochist, that is, not as easily as we thought."
"As we hoped," Aliza corrected me. "You feel sorry?"
"Not really, but a bit guilty. But at least we enjoyed ourselves."
"Yes we did...." Aliza gave a sad smile. "But I'm afraid it was too much to handle for her. Did you really have to fuck her again in the shower?"
"I couldn't stop myself."
Aliza laughed. "Well," she said, "Anyway, she won't be back. That's for sure. She might have let her masochistic feelings surface because she was loosened up from her drinks. But once sober, we may have appeared to her as siding with her husband. At least that's how it looks to me."
It seemed Aliza was right. During the following weeks we did not hear from Isabelle. It appeared that she had sold the farm and we heard that she was separating officially from her husband, moved out of town and was doing well on her own.
But Aliza was wrong.
Late one evening she suddenly showed up again at our doorstep. And this time she was not at all in tears. In stead she looked flourishing and as beautiful as ever.
But her pretty face showed a somewhat uncertain smile.
For a long time all three of us stared at each other in silence. Then, without saying a thing, Isabelle lowered her eyes and began to blush.
Aliza reacted appropriately. "Come on in Isabelle dear," she said kindly, and she moved back to let her inside. "It looks like you are feeling a lot better. Am I right?"
Isabelle nodded. Still blushing she smiled again, apparently relieved and thankful. Then she stepped forward.
I drew her to me and kissed her. She did not resist and there was no trace of alcohol on her breath.
"Give me your coat," Aliza said.
Without speaking Isabelle handed it over.
I took her hand and we led her upstairs into our bedroom. There we undressed her, bound her wrists over her delicate head, and hung her delicious body from a beam in the ceiling, her arms stretched high, her young breasts flattened against her delicate rib case, her ripe nipples hardening to our touch. The traces from our abuse had disappeared and she had made herself completely bald between her legs
As we undressed ourselves in front of her, a shiny clear drop of moisture appeared at that beautiful cleft of hers. Thus she hung for us, defenselessly open for grabs....
She bravely tried to laugh all through the process.
Until Aliza removed the belt from her jeans on the floor and wrapped its end around her hand.
Then she screamed.