0 comments/ 30534 views/ 1 favorites Saving Isabelle By: Brutalhawk She came to be consoled.... we helped, or did we? * "Who could that be?" my wife Aliza said as our doorbell rang. She looked worried. And not without reason. It was close to midnight and we had just finished cleaning up the kitchen before going to bed. "No idea." We both went to the front door and I peeped through the small spy hole. To my surprise it was Isabelle, wet from the rain. We know her well. She lives on the next farm up the road, a farm that barely makes a profit. Her husband is known mainly as nuisance and a habitual frequenter of pubs. Isabelle, normally a blooming pretty young woman with a charming face and a sexy body, appeared to be extremely distressed. "What happened?!" my wife asked alarmed, letting her in. Isabelle had eyes red from crying. We showed her into our still warm living room. The fire had not yet completely died. It took a while before she calmed down. It appeared that her man had left her once again. That happened often. We knew. He always came back after a few days. Usually stone drunk. But this time Isabelle was certain he would not return. They had fought the whole day over the news he had broken to her: he had another woman. By evening he'd angrily left, saying he would move in with his new love. He had packed his things in two big suitcases, including his bottles of booze, slammed the door and disappeared. Isabelle began to cry again. "He won't come back..." she slobbered, "and I don't want him any more." She seemed shivering cold and very much in need of being cuddled and consoled. But trying to quieten her was no easy matter. Isabelle put her on the sofa and wrapped an arm around her. I made tea. We listened. And we tried to comfort her with quiet soft words. Still it took quite a while. In the end we gave her a few stiff drinks which, once gulped down, seemed at least to clear her up a little. We talked a lot that night. Deep into the early morning hours. Actually, she was the one doing most of the talking. Mainly about her stranded marriage, confessing to our surprise that her man beat her regularly. Shocked Aliza prodded for more. "What do you mean, beat?" she asked. "He just beats me," Isabelle said, sniffing up some last tears. "I see," Aliza answered pensively, "He's that kind." And when Isabelle did not answer, she asked: "What triggers him?" Isabelle hesitated and blushed. "Nothing," she said, "Just beats me up for nothing." "For no reason?" I asked throwing a meaningful glance at Aliza. "How did this thing start?" Aliza, ignoring my question, softly inquired: "Is this a sexual thing or something?" Isabelle shook her head, but then, in a barely audible voice, admitted with a fresh flowing of tears, that in the beginning, when it all started, she at least hoped it would turn him on and make him want her sexually. "And did it?" I asked rather recklessly, which gained me an angry stare from Aliza. She shook her head again. "We don't have sex anymore," she sniveled, "in bed he just wanks himself off next to me." "Jesus, for how long has this been going on?" Aliza asked. Isabelle began to cry again, full blast. "I don't know... maybe years," she finally managed to say, trying to stem her tears with the soaked hankie Alisa had handed her. Aliza again hugged her like a small child. "Poor little thing," she said, "Poor little thing". She repeated it many times. We had to give Isabelle a few more drinks before she managed to dry her tears. But it was getting awfully late (or rather close to morning), and she showed no signs of going home or even wanting to. Aliza became really concerned. So we proposed she sleep it off in our spare bedroom. Isabelle looked up at us gratefully, agreed, and finally stood up from the couch. Hurriedly we both steadied her on her legs. Suddenly she wrapped her arms around my neck, looked at me with half closed watery eyes, and pulled my face to hers, kissing me hard and wet on my mouth. "Thank you... thank you..." she blubbered, after I had disentangled myself with some effort from the unexpected embrace. Aliza watched with both amusement and a slight tingle of suspicion as Isabelle went on in an unstable voice. "You two are so nice to me... I don't deserve it... I'm such a bad woman..." Half an hour later Aliza had finally succeeded in putting her to bed. "Guess what she told me," Aliza said when we stepped into our own bed. "What?" "She's drunk as a door of course, but it was still quite shocking. She said it's all her fault and that she's the kind of woman who always ends up being beaten by her man. When I asked what she meant, she began to cry again, confessing that she thinks she needs to be hurt and bullied and thrown around like dirt. Thinks it's her destiny. Sounded like some masochistic jabber if you ask me." "Pity I'm not married to her," I joked." "Don't try to be funny... I know that this kind of talk triggers that kinky mind of yours. But really, this looks quite serious." "Hmm....," I said, "Sure it triggers me. But you're quite kinky as well, aren't you, my love?" Drawing her near to me I kissed her and whispered: "You better beware, little slutty of mine, I'm going to fuck you raw. Remember, it's my turn tonight..." and suddenly I pulled her head back by her hair... She fought me. And still did when I mounted her. *** Isabelle stayed with us every evening for almost two weeks. It became quite a burden. She would talk and talk about her failed marriage, cry a bit, drink too much and sleep it off in our spare bed room. It had almost become a routine. Aliza and I began to discuss her, speculating about what kind of woman she really was. Or had been for that matter. We both thought her a very attractive young woman. And then, at a certain point, while making love in bed, we found ourselves whisper like naughty school children about Isabelle's young body and its imagined potential. Soon she began to feature in some of our most cruel sexual fantasies. We tied her down. We whipped her. We raped her. Not entirely without guilt feelings of course. But it wet our sexual appetite. Then, one night. We were reading by our little bedside lamps after a very tiresome day, fatigued and hoping to get drowsy, when the door of our bedroom quietly opened. She wore one of Aliza's sexy nighties. The semi-transparent material on her left little to the imagination. "I can't sleep.... would you please let me come in with you...?" Her voice was slightly slurred from the by now habitual evening alcohol. No need to say Aliza and I were surprised and did not immediately answer. But Isabelle continued: "I owe you two, don't I?," she said, "Maybe you would like to...," she hesitated a few seconds, then went on in a subdued voice, "to play with me.... I mean... " She stopped speaking and cast down her eyes. It was quite a thing to be asked. "You mean what?" Aliza asked, as if she didn't know. Isabelle hesitated, "I have been alone for so long... and..." She swallowed, then after a brief moment haltingly resumed: "I... I am used to... eh... to be treated like... I mean... like a slut." Aliza and I looked at each other and my heart missed a beat. And so, it seemed, did Aliza's. Tension seeped into the air. There was a long silence. Nobody made a move. Finally I glanced at Aliza aside me in bed. She looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. Then she smiled. "Well," she said softly to Isabelle still standing before us, "Whatever you wish. I'm not saying no." She did not even ask me for my opinion. She knew. Slowly she took my book from my hands and put it together with hers on her bedside table. Then she turned back, popped herself up a little, and in a relaxed voice asked Isabelle: "Any special ideas?" There was no response. So I gave one: "How about you let us see what you have to offer." Still no response. "Well?" I said, "Don't just stand there staring at us. Go on, show us your body." But Isabelle only cast down her eyes. Otherwise she remained standing just as she was. Aliza now spoke in that soft threatening voice I love so much: "If you don't open up that nightie for us, dear, I'm afraid I'm going to use some force to make you do it," and she seemed ready to get out of bed. But that wasn't necessary. Isabelle's mouth began to tremble as she fumbled at the buttons of the nightgown. It opened up before our eyes. I was awed... In the soft light of our reading lamps she was very, very sexy. Beautifully shaped breasts that looked inviting, crowned with big fleshy nipples which asked to be sucked. Her belly, slightly protruding, declined back to a shapely and lightly downed love mound that descended towards a fine dark furrow, her most intimate lower entrance. "You better get completely out of that stuff." Aliza's voice, although still soft, was suddenly hoarse. Under our sheets her hand groped for my crotch. "You shouldn't really use nighties," she said, we don't use them either as you can see." She moved a slip of her sheet to show her breasts. Isabelle now briefly lifted her eyes and hesitantly obeyed. The flimsy material slid off her shoulders to the floor, revealing two deliciously curved hips and some very tempting thighs. Thus she remained standing passively before us, again with downcast eyes, displaying herself in full nakedness. Aliza's hand enveloped my balls. All three of us remained silent for a long time. "Turn around," Aliza said, "I've seen your tits and your cunt. I want to see your ass." Her hand now stroked my manhood rather fiercely. Isabelle slowly turned around and showed us two small, smooth and perfectly round cheeks. Thus she stood for a full minute. Finally, without being asked, she turned back showing us her front again. She was blushing crimson red. Slowly Aliza lifted the sheets on her side, nodding Isabelle into our matrimonial bed. She slipped in gracefully, her movements like clear spring water. "Go lie between us," Aliza said. She stopped fondling my by now fully rigid member and began to softly stroke Isabelle's hair, explaining, as if that were necessary: "I believe from Alex's state of affairs that he wants to amuse himself with you as much as I do." Again Isabelle obeyed dutifully. She climbed across Aliza's nude anatomy, and slowly let her agile body sink down on its back, barely finding space in the narrow expanse between the two of us. Her body felt warm and soft and scented delicious. Fully excited by now I leaned over and kissed her lips. They were soft moist lips. Aliza joined in, and soon we were both greedily kissing her mouth and throat, our hands caressing all over her flesh, her breasts, her belly, her thighs. It was an exceedingly powerful experience. But Isabelle showed little response to our ministrations. Her delectable body remained almost passively between us. "Please... " she whispered. But that was all she said. I looked at Aliza's flushed face, our heads close together. Below us Isabelle slowly opened her eyes. And she said it again. More pleadingly now: "Please..." Again Aliza and I looked questioning at each other. Each of us thinking the same. That's when Isabelle whispered it. In a barely audible voice. "Please... please hurt me...." Slowly a smile developed on Aliza's face and she breathed in my ear: "What are we waiting for, let's rough her up." I smiled back and nodded excitedly. Resolutely Aliza elevated herself from the mattress. She bent over the impassive girl, took her wrists and stretched her arms above her head, pressing them into the mattress. This was our fantasy coming true... I gripped both Isabelle's breasts, clawing my fingers deep into the flesh. For the first time she opened her mouth and groaned. I kneaded that fleshy fruit for quite some time, then took her nipple into my mouth, sucking it until it grew thick with arousal and Isabelle began to moan again. Then I bit... Hard...! That's how we got her screaming. I kept my teeth in her flesh. The girl's upper torso squirmed exquisitely below me, helpless to wrestle herself free from my jaws and from Aliza's locking grip on her wrists. And she kept screaming. For a moment I thought that maybe this was too much for her to handle. We hadn't given Isabelle a safe word like Aliza and I sometimes do when we loosen our reins and play our cruel games with each other. But she hadn't asked for one, had she? And anyway I got too exited from that cringing body below me to stop chewing that fine nipple in my mouth. She fought us fiercely now, trying to free her hands from Aliza's grip and trampling the air with both legs. She was no match really. We held her firmly. So I went on hurting her with my teeth and the screams of our lovely victim became ear splitting. Soon Aliza became impatient. With some effort she succeeded in scrambling around without letting go of the squirming girl's arms. Then she seated herself across our screaming pet, who by now resembled a furiously thrashing horse. I loosened my yaws, if only to give some room to Aliza, and started quietly to suck Isabelle's swollen nipple, as if consoling her. She stopped screaming immediately and began to breath hard, shaking her head in helpless passion from side to side. But Aliza heatedly pushed my face aside, ending my feast and yelling it was her turn to play with the girl, and my turn to hold her steady. When I did, and took over Isabelle's wrists, I enjoyed a hugely exciting scene: Aliza, sitting astride Isabelle's ribs and breasts, began to slap her hard straight across her face. Again and again... and again...! Isabelle soon cried like an abused child unjustly punished, her pretty face flooded by tears. Highly aroused, Aliza now spoke to her in a hot voice: "You wanted us to play with you, didn't you? So don't complain if we like to hurt you. You're just a juicy masochistic slut, aren't you? It's lovely to beat you." She was enjoying herself tremendously. Whack... whack... whack...! Isabelle's crying changed to an agonized howling, and the more she was hit the louder she sang. Soon panic mixed in and her screams ripped her throat raw. She was like a beautifully wounded animal. "I love it... I love it...!" Aliza yelled above our victim's shrieking voice. Isabelle's face turned blazing red from Aliza's slapping. But I seemed to notice that, although she continued to scream and cry in pain, the wrigglings of her body gradually began to betray the opposite... She was getting in heat as much as we were. Aliza finally stopped hitting her, bent over, and greedily sucked half a breast into her mouth... Just when Isabelle seemed to calm down a little from this more gentle treatment, my lovely wife bit ferociously into the soft breast-flesh. Our prey arched with the whole of her body like a rearing mare, heaving Aliza up high, renewed screams reverberating through the room, her lovely head lolling in misery over our feathered cushions from left to right and back. It was fantastic to watch. Finally Aliza relaxed her jaws and switched to forcefully kiss the mouth of her victim. Again the effect on Isabelle was almost immediate. She stopped screaming, curled her legs up and, wrapping them around Aliza's slender waist, began to undulate her loins. The combination of Aliza's sexual aggression and her victim's responding submission, was extremely erotic. Hot waves of flaming lust gushed up from deep within my flanks. I pushed Aliza off and dragged Isabelle out of our bed. She fell to the floor and I immediately put a foot on her breasts, pressing her into the carpet. She began to struggle and my foot slid down to her throat. She coughed and I saw spittle appear on her lips. But I kept her down, although she tried in vain to wrestle my foot off with her hands. "What are you doing...?" Aliza yelled frustrated, suddenly sitting idle on her knees on the mattress. "Be careful! Don't damage her. I want to keep her screaming!" "Wait... you'll see...," I said slightly easing my foot, and I reached for my bathing robe, which lied draped over a chair. Ripping its waist cord off I sank down on my knees, grabbed Isabelle's wrists and quickly I tied them together. Now she was really helpless. Pulling our fucktoy up by her hair, I threw her back onto our sheets. Like a predator Aliza jumped back upon her. Unable to stop her tormentor with those tied hands, Isabelle tried to escape and roll herself away. But it did not work. Aliza again straddled herself over her victim's body, this time facing her feet. Using all her weight she pressed down those sexy haunches, thus able to keep Isabelle on her back and restrain her trampling legs. But Isabelle pounded her from behind with her bound fists. "Alex, tie her down!" Aliza called out to me. And I did. I pulled her arms flat and fastened her bound wrists to the headboard of our big bed. Beautiful! I could relax now. I grabbed a cigarette from the bedside table, lighted it and sat on my knees on the mattress to watch. Aliza slid her knees to both sides of the wriggling body of Isabelle, pressing her pussy into the soft belly flesh below her. She bent over and with both hands grasped Isabelle's love lips. There was a loud cry as Isabelle jerked her thighs closed. But I quickly helped and pried them open again, holding them imprisoned. Aliza now brutally probed Isabelle's sex, moving her fingers deep into the soft moist flesh. Isabelle gave another piercing shriek, and fought to close her thighs again. To no avail. The only effect was that Aliza went in deeper. Isabelle began to wail, no doubt because she felt her treatment as a horrible degradation. But suddenly her cries changed to moaning and then to panting. "Open your legs, slut!" Aliza yelled, "Wider!" And Isabelle, now in obvious ecstasy obeyed immediately and even tried to move her hips to greedily meet Aliza's probing hands. But Aliza, noticing how Isabelle had changed from suffering to wallowing in pleasure, immediately put a stop to it. She pulled out her hand, showing me with a triumphant smile how they glistened from the sexual moisture that was by now leaking as well out of Isabelle's maltreated pussy. "The bitch," Aliza laughed, "look, she's in blazing heat!" and she wiped her fingers clean in the bush of Isabelle's love mound. A wave of cruel lust overtook me. I took the cigarette and very slowly lowered its smoldering tip towards Isabelle's face. She stopped panting, her eyes popped out in panic and she began to yell: Noooo!! Seeing what I was doing, Aliza turned herself around over Isabelle's wriggling body and grabbed her hair to steady her face for me. "Yeah, Alex, give it to her," she cried excitedly. I brought the burning tip of my cigarette even closer to Isabelle's face, so she could feel its radiating heat. "NOOOOO!!!" "Yessss!" Isabelle cried out. "Burn her!" So I did, and I let the cigarette softly kiss the tender flesh of her cheek. She gave a horrid scream as pain knifed through her face. Fascinated Alisa looked down. "That's great Alex" she said in a heated voice, "and now her breasts!" I smiled in agreement and slowly let the cigarette sear one nipple... then the other... The poor girl kept screaming so violently that I feared the roof would come down upon us. Now Aliza switched position again to face Isabelle's lower body. She grabbed the cigarette from my hand, and brought its glowing tip slowly to Isabelle's struggling belly. It left an angry spot on her fine skin and drew scream after scream. Now aiming at the hill of Isabelle's jerking love mound, Aliza directed what was left of the cigarette to the dripping wet folds of her victim's shaking femininity. Briefly she glanced at me as if asking for permission. I nodded eagerly. Thus she brought the stub down, extinguishing its smoldering remains by grinding it hard into Isabelle's most private flesh. By then our Isabelle had become a raging beast shaking and trampling her legs like a mad dog. I had to dodge her fury. Saving Isabelle 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. "Suck it!" 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. Silence... "I Should never have stayed with you." Silence... "Please forgive me... I don't know what came over me yesterday evening." Silence... "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. Isabelle nodded. 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.