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"Jesus, Brandi... what the fuck!"
"Whatever. I've managed to survive. I'm actually successful when you really look at where I'm at with my life and my career."
"But... you're going to use drugs as a way to manipulate --"
"OH! Manipulative! That's another one they said about me. And compulsive! Can't forget that. Those were the main ones. There are probably ten others, and I'm guessing a half dozen that went undiagnosed. But they don't count."
"I can't tell if you mean anything you're saying," he said with a shake of his head, it all seeming so preposterous.
"That's the true mark of a sociopath. Chameleon tendencies. Compulsive lying. We can get away with a lot because no one can really read us," she shrugged.
"Be that as it may, what you're doing to Christina is... it's just fucking wrong. I can't believe I let you talk me into it."
"I didn't talk you into anything. You made that decision all on your own."
"Because you threatened to cut off my balls!"
"That was for if you tell anyone what my plan is. It's still a choice on your part."
"What kind of choice is that? Do what you want, or you'll castrate me?"
"Kind of like that Rush song, isn't it?" she giggled.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"The lyrics... in Freewill. They go, 'You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.' I know it's not exactly the same, but they're still apropos."
"Yeah. You're officially nuts, Brandi. This isn't her hair. This isn't something she can change later on when the fad wears off or she decides the lifestyle isn't for her. This is permanent! I can't undo what I just did to her, and I have to be honest with you... it bothers me. Most of the things you've goaded me into doing, I've been on board with. But this one sucks."
"It's not really any different than the others, Spike. Don't make this into something it's not."
"What? It's totally different. Look at that tattoo, B. From both an artistic and technical standpoint it's literally the best I've ever done, and that's saying something. But I look at it and I don't know whether to be proud or angry with myself. It's both, actually."
"Okay, so it's a paradox. Most things in life are. For instance, you feel like crap right now. However, because you chose to do that beautiful piece of art on her... now you get to fuck her ass," she winked.
"Oh... yeah. Almost forgot about that," he laughed.
"See. Now get to it. I need some video of you fucking her with her new tattoo so she can torment her husband with it later!"
Spike took advantage of Christina once again, violating yet another of her holes without her being able to bless it. That brought the total number of egregious acts he's done to her at Brandi's direction up to four. Two tattoos, and to orifices fucked hard and aggressively. He left copious amounts of cum behind in both, growling like a beast when he finally emptied his balls a second time. Then there was the aftermath.
He helped Brandi get her to the car, going so far as being the one to tie her up and put her in the very back. For all his protests, he knew he was just as culpable as the one directing the show, because he didn't have the guts to stand up to Brandi. Much like Gerard. Instead, he acquiesced to her evil doings, much like a villain's faithful minion.
She drove to Gerard's house first, picking up what she'd need of Christina's things. She wanted to get in and out of there before he could do anything to stop her from leaving early. Not that he'd try. She knew as well as he did that he wasn't going to interfere. Her mind was made up, as warped as it was, and she was already five steps ahead in her thought process.
A quick stop home, she was able to remove seats in the middle, and then the very back without removing Christina. Once that was done, she untied her from the position she was in and bound her in the spread-eagle position to the floor of the Suburban. Leaving the seats in the garage of her condo, she loaded up her luggage and was on the road to Nevada.
Somewhere on I-15 north of the Mojave National Preserve, she made that check on Christina in the rearview mirror, wanting to make sure she was still out. She didn't want her to rouse totally just yet, but at the same time, she was reluctant to give her another dose of Ketamine. As it was, she knew she was there, but not there. Returning her eyes to the road, she made sure she was on a long straight stretch before she picked up Christina's cell from the charging port built in to the dash. She was already on cruise control, and she had the texts she was going to send cued up.
She fired off several of them, including pictures and video of her getting inked, and fucked. The one of the glowing Queen of Spades symbols hidden in the butterfly on her back were especially striking. She never bothered showing off the one over her pussy, not wanting to give too much away. She texted like they were coming directly from Christina, stating that she was fully committed to living her life as a BBC slut, and was going to be fucking a lot of thick black cock over the next few days. Brandi didn't offer that they were already on their way to Vegas, not wanting anyone to know what she had planned for later that night. But the excitement was already building inside her.
"God, I hope I can get her pregnant the next few days!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunday Evening, May 19th -- DAY 3
Alex clutched his cold Fosters, trying not to stew. His mind was a mess. Actually, he was so sure it wasn't his very soul. There was a battle going on for it. He just didn't know who the players were. Was it really Christina that was trying to push him to the brink, making him do things as a way to assert total control over their sexual dynamic? Or was it Gerard, trying emasculate him as Maggie suggested as part of the cruel game his wife was playing?
He couldn't get past the idea that somehow this was what Christina really wanted. But the beautiful naked redhead still staring at her computer across the room had made a compelling case. It wasn't in his wife's DNA to be that kind of hotwife. At least, she didn't think so. He just wasn't so sure. He couldn't determine just how much his ignoring her sexual needs for months to jack off to the hotwife videos that started their current state of marriage had really hurt her. From his perspective, it was entirely possible that this was all part of her payback.
As Alex quietly let the angst he was feeling build up inside him, Maggie was in the midst of a psychological maelstrom of her own. She couldn't let go of the feeling inside that she'd played an unwitting role in the current emotional trauma her boss was feeling. That, combined with the prospect that she was committing to him to live on their family property, renting the pool house as her personal residence, was playing tricks on her mind. She knew she needed to be there for him, and the kids. She also felt certain she was right about Christina, which would make that physical move from Pomona to Laguna Beach a perfect life decision. Yet what if she were wrong. What if Christina was the mastermind behind it all, and she was simply using Gerard as the thick-cocked weapon to bludgeon her husband's mental stability? Living there under that revelation would turn out to be the biggest mistake of her young life.
Kalinda was the only calm one among the three. Then again, she wasn't as directly involved in what was going on. At least, not yet. She was just waiting patiently for the break that she felt would eventually come their way. In her experience as a private investigator, dealing with cases that ranged from simply foolish to outright nefarious, the antagonist always showed themselves, because they always made a mistake. It took persistence, the ability to compartmentalize, and luck. The worst thing they could do; the mistake she kept preaching that they could not afford to make, was become so distraught with the situation they were in that they lost focus. It was imperative that they pay attention, keep their guard up, and look for the opportunity that would, in her experience, eventually present itself.
It came, in the most expected way. Maggie and Alex just didn't realize it at first.
"Fuck," he groaned, looking at his phone.
"What?" Maggie asked quickly, recognizing the reaction he gave. It was one she'd heard often in the relatively short time she'd become ensnared in their new marital world. It was the sound of a man in the midst of a tormented moment undoubtedly caused by a text of some type from his teasing wife.
"It's a video from Christina. For fuck's sake... she's got a tattoo now. A big one, on her lower back."
"She got a tramp stamp?" Kalinda wondered out loud.
"More like a slut sign," he sighed. "She's not hiding that."
"Pretty sure that's the point of getting one."
Maggie chimed in, saying, "Um... sweetie, I have a tramp stamp. I'm pretty sure by the way you stare at it that it gets your blood boiling."
"I stare at your ass. You have to know by now that I'm an ass man."
"That my be, but you know my tribal makes your cock hard, because you think it marks me as a slut. Which is true. That's why I got it. I'm guessing your wife did it for the very same reason. You can't blame her for that, because that's what she is now."
"What is it?" Kalinda asked.
"It... it's a butterfly, like the one she has designed in her new hair," he griped.
"Ooo. Lemme see," she said as she got up and moved next to him on the couch.
He showed her the text, and the video that was linked to it. Kalinda opened the video from the thumbnail, and made the image full screen on his phone, turning it sideways. She noticed several things while they watched the action. One, the tattoo itself was incredible. Strikingly incredible. It was not only professional, the style and artistry involved were distinctive. Two, she was being reamed violently, and the cock that was ramming into her ass was huge, but white. That was different from what she would have expected to see had he bothered to mention that Christina was also getting fucked. Three, she wasn't moving, or making any noise whatsoever. That was telling with the way she was being hammered. As in it was impossible to believe. Something was definitely amiss. Four, the person taking the video wasn't participating in the sex; he or she was documenting it, making sure to show her pussy was leaking cum. Lastly, the video, and the several that followed, made Alex hard. Very, very hard. For all his angst, deep down, he was still drawn to the idea that his wife was now a hotwife, and she was going out of her way to prove that to him.
When Alex's cock twitched and dripped precum the very moment the big shaft of the man buried deep in the backside of his betrothed and let loose a torrent of hot cum; presumably his second, Kalinda knew she needed to get his focus back. It was imperative to what she now considered her mission. She'd seen enough in that video to gather some very important facts. It was information that would help her start the investigation into what was really going on between Christina and Gerard. She needed to start working her magic, and that meant taking matters into her own hands and taking charge.
Taking the phone, she tossed it to the cushion beside them. Grabbing him by the hair, she tilted his head, pulling him into a hot, steamy kiss while twisting her body. In a flash, she moved her lower extremities gracefully, lifting her left leg up and over in a fluid motion while pivoting on her right knee. It was smooth and fluid, like she'd been doing it her entire life. It was not unlike some of the things he'd experienced with Sabrina, and he wondered in the cluttered recesses of his warped mind if the middle eastern beauty that was guiding her pussy over his enraged cock wasn't also a stripper. At that point in his existence, all things seemed possible when it involved sexual gratification.
And that's just what she was giving him. She began riding him wildly, bouncing up and down on his engorged cock, her big breasts pressing against his chest as she moved. Her lower back and hips undulated in and elliptical motion, grinding her clit against his hardness. The grip on his hair maintained it's control and she moved from his mouth to the nape of his neck, biting and sucking hard. It was like a vampire feeding, the way she attacked that soft joint between his neck and left shoulder. He knew what she was doing, and he didn't care, even if he wouldn't know how to explain it to his kids. The passion and heat of what was happening to him was too much to try and control. He knew he didn't have any, and with the knowledge that Christina was now branded as a slut with the tattoo, as beautiful as it was, there seemed little hope he was going to end up anything but a cuckold.
Kalinda could feel his internal struggle; the teetering back and forth between cuck and stag. He was in danger of losing himself. That was the very reason she came to the rescue to begin with, Maggie's call of desperation of what she'd done to him enough to hang up her phone and jump into her car within what seemed like minutes. Knowing the state of his mind was fragile, she needed to switch the dynamic. And quickly.
"Fuck me, stag. Fuck me like I need. Treat me like the sluts you deserve in your life," she whispered urgently into his ear. Stopping with his cock as deep as it could be in her pussy from the position they were in, she pushed back, their eyes connecting. She pleaded with him in that inviting stare, the hope inside her irises swirling about.
"Deeper," she mouthed, a whimper accompanying it.
In a swift thrust, he lifted them up with his powerful thighs, turning them around before literally throwing her off of him. She was like a cat, anticipating the fall. Her body somehow turned in midair and she landed on the cushions with her knees, her hands grabbing the back of the couch to stabilize herself. Lowering her head between her shoulders, she jutted her magnificent ass out, moving it ever-so slightly to entice him. Not that he needed it. He pounced, his cock impaling her dripping cunt with a force that had her lunging forward. Pushing back, she braced, waiting for the onslaught.
It was fierce. He grabbed her by her long mane and yanked it, making her head snap. Leaning forward he returned the favor, latching onto her neck with his mouth, sucking hard. She moaned, thrilled that he was going to mark her. She hoped he'd do it in other ways.
That wish came true as he started spanking her while they fucked. It was loud, and angry. It was cathartic for him, and energizing for her. It was such a coupling that Maggie found herself sneaking away to check on the children, worried that they might wake. She needn't have. They'd both been burning themselves out having fun with their guests that it wasn't going to be a problem. Not only were they very sound sleepers, the house was very well built; in many ways, it was soundproof between floors, as well as the walls upstairs.
She returned a short time later to find that Kalinda had been rolled over, and they'd turned sideways on the couch. Her left leg was draped over Alex's shoulder. Her right foot was on the floor, spreading herself wide for him. In turn he was lording over her, his huge upper body looming like she was prey. She felt that way, what with the way his hand was gripping her throat; a move she'd encouraged with her eyes.
He'd squeeze tight, waiting for the precise moment. Letting go, she'd cough and sputter while gulping in air, all the while waiting for him to do it again. He'd repeat that over and over, watching her carefully. Kalinda's eyes would bulge out and water, but she gave him no indication that she didn't want everything he was giving her.
Maggie watched in awe as the two of them built up trust between each other. She couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't part of her friend's plan all along. Everything she knew about her was being tested; after all, in every encounter the two of them had shared with being intimate, it was Kalinda that was the aggressor. She was the Alpha, and it was odd to see her in a rather submissive mindset.
"Fuck me harder!" she screamed out the one time she was able find her breath.
Alex responded by mauling her breast while increasing his speed. That had her convulsing and creaming on his pistoning shaft a few moments later. Once she did, he thrust his powerful hips forward, wedging himself as deep as possible while unleashing his seed deep inside her.
Kalinda was thrown off by the way his cock exploded. It wasn't just the force of the pulses he was firing, or the huge amount of cum that was filling her pussy. She was a bit shocked that he was cumming inside her. It wasn't a thought she'd considered, and he'd taken her in such a way that it didn't occur to her that he wasn't going to pull out like every other guy she'd ever fucked. He was owning her at that point, just like a stag would.
Her panic was alleviated by Maggie leaning over the side of the couch and whispering, "He's been snipped."
Her brain responded by thinking, "Might not matter with a man that cums that much."
Alex pulled out and stood, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he took on oxygen. His nostrils were flaring like a racehorse, and his eyes fixated on her splayed legs, unblinking as they assessed damage he'd caused. Maggie wondered if he was about to beat his chest.
Finally able to collect her thoughts along we with her ability to speak, Kalinda let out a long, sensual exhale while lifting her arms over her head to stretch out her sexy body. A satisfied smirk appeared as she closed her eyes.
"If guys would have fucked me like that growing up, I never would have started fucking girls," she mewled.
"That would've been a shame," Maggie snickered as she moved between her thighs. She began eating her out, cleaning up her pussy.
Slicing her fingers into Maggie's hair, Kalinda tilted her hips slightly. "Mmm, you're right, Mag. I would have missed times like this.
Alex never went soft. Instead his cock began to stiffen again from the sight of his sweet secretary offering her sweet pussy to him the way she was holding it up. Grasping her lower legs, he pulled them over the arm of the couch and grabbed her hips. His eyes went to her ornate tribal tattoo, a red heart at the very center of it. She was right. His brain became consumed by lust just from her, in his eyes, being branded as a slut. Thrusting his hips, he impaled her with his shaft. The sounds she made as he began hammering her was a melody he'd never tire of.
His focus was only on her tattoo, watching it as he fucked. The heart seemed to actually beat, no doubt from the way his eyes stayed open, the tiny blood vessels in them pulsating with his own heartbeat. And he was fueled by the lasting image of the butterfly he'd seen on Christina's back. His thoughts of the artwork had changed from the perspective he had while ramming his executive secretary. The idea of using his wife in a similar way drove his innermost desires. The green eyes that were designed into the wings were obviously meant to be hers. He been staring into her emerald ones since the moment he saw her in the front row of a class he was teaching she was never supposed to be in. He'd become infatuated with them that morning, and he spent the duration of their entire relationship getting lost in their depth and love ever since. There was no doubt the tattoo artist had perfectly captured their power and aura.
Yet comparing the differences to that of Maggie, he couldn't help but consider the obvious link between the two besides the location; that of a suit in a deck of cards. Maggie's was very apropos. She had the heart of an angel; the way she interacted with everyone she met showing her honesty and character.
