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Wanda followed him down a wide hall to another pair of thick, hand-carved wooden doors. Two antique suits of armor stood as though on guard just outside. They looked so real and sinister that she thought the knights of old might still be inside. One held a long handled battle axe aloft with a gleaming, razor sharp blade. The other held a mace a short, thick-handled club from which dangled a length of chain and a heavy round ball studded with sharp spikes.

Wanda shivered at the sight of their vicious weapons.

Fred grinned, knowing that what she could see was only a hint of all that lay beyond the heavy oak-planked door.

CHAPTER FIVE

Wilma gasped racking sobs of pain as Jack's hard cock slammed deeper into the tightly constricted tube of her ass. Her pointed tits heaved, raking her hot nipples against the carpet. Her butt muscles quaked in torment, in time with the steady drum of Jack's hairy groin on the upraised cheeks of her creamy ass.

"No more!" she wailed, her bound wrists tugging behind her back. "Please! I can't take any more! It hurrrrrts!"

Her head bobbed and rolled in response to each driving thrust. Loose waves of long, soft, shimmering brown hair flowed over the curve of her back and down to tingle Jack's nuts with a feathery touch.

The heat of furious desire steamed in his aching nuts. Jack knew that Wanda had tried a lot of new tricks lately to keep the thrill of sexual excitement alive in their marriage, but pretending to be timid and hate what he was doing to her was the last thing he expected.

"You act just like your – ungh – stupid, dumb assed – ungh! – frigid sister – ungh! – Wilma!" Jack grunted out the sneering words as he joyously reamed her writhing butt.

"Yeceaaah!" Wilma howled with the sharp, ass twisting stabs of pain. She wanted to say I am Wilma! but the wrenching thrusts of Jack's huge cock garbled the words into muttered cried of meaningless sound.

"I feel sorry for – ungh! – poor Ralph, her – ungh! – fucking husband!" Jack rasped out, never missing a beat.

"Whyyyyy?" Wilma groaned. Now both her ass and her curious mind felt the jolting shock of pain. Why should anyone feel sorry for Ralph? He had a good job as an assistant loan officer at the bank, a nice home and a happy marriage.

"Because – ungh? – if he wasn't fucking – ungh! Ungh! – that little teller where he works – uunngh! – poor Ralph would get no ass at – uunngh! – all!"

"I don't -ooooh! – believe it! Aaagggh!" Wilma cried. The fury of Jack's savage thrusts increased. She shivered in torment, words and sounds billowing out like swirls of steam.

"It's true. Uuuungh!" Jack snarled. "Wilma won't let Ralph fuck her ass! Aaaggghhh!"

Jack felt his jism boil and churn in his flopping nut sac, straining to explode with ripping spurts of rapturous joy.

"I believe that," Wilma said, fearfully short of breath. "But – oooooh! – but I don't believe Ralph would do – aaahhh! – anything with anyone else!"

Jack slowed the beat of his driving thrusts. The sputtering fuse of his self-control had burned short. His balls would blast free from their heavy load any second, and he didn't want that. Not yet. He wanted to drag out the vicious delight of raping a stubborn shithole.

"What's the poor bastard supposed to do?" he asked, resting and catching his breath while her clinging ass muscles clawed on the shaft of his cock. "Jack-off every time he wants to feel something warm and tight?"

"Eeyyyaaa!" Wilma screamed. The torture of Jack's words cut deeper than the cruel bite of his leather belt, hurt worse titan the heat of his cock pulsing deep in the dark damp of her ass. "Who?" she asked in a quaking voice.

"Don't know her name. Aaaahhh! Ralph didn't say. But she has red hair!" His long dick glided slowly in and out of her ass, gathering speed and strength despite his efforts at self-control.

"Her!" Wilma snapped. The fiery little bitch who worked at window number three. "He wouldn't!"

Jack laughed. "He almost didn't… said she wouldn't go for ass-fucking either. So old Ralph got pissed and tied her up with her pantyhose!"

"Aaarrrrgh!" Wilma wailed. The slow, steady thrusts of Jack's cock made her acutely aware of its heat and strength. His prick burned hot and deep, and so did the awful thought of Ralph with that young red-headed bank teller.

"He fucked her ass until it started to bleed," Jack went on with a chuckle. "By then she really loved it!"

Wilma's ass writhed with disgust. Clenching waves of horror ran up and down Jack's big dick, and the pulsing tension of her disbelief made it impossible for him to hold back.

"Yuuungh!" he groaned as he spiked her ass with his searing shaft, driving in until his aching balls pressed warm and vibrantly against the creamy smooth domes of her hot asscheeks.

He thought the tense grinding spasms of her asshole were signs of joy that Wanda had finally given in to the throbbing power of his big cock. Jack didn't know it was Wilma who squirmed in torment each time he hammered in, or that she felt like retching when she thought of her dear, sweet husband Ralph ass-fucking that fiery little slut.

"So, you stubborn cunt… you finally admit you like my big cock rammed up your ass!"

"Uuunngh! NO!"

"Ha!" he said. "I can feel you squirm. If your little shit lips could talk, they'd be wailing cries of delight."

"Noooo!" She felt Jack's giant cock give out a gushing spurt. It splashed and burned deep in her trembling ass tube, greasing the slide of his hot prick. "Aaaaggh!"

"Go, Wanda! Go!" Jack loved the muscular grip of her pulsing asshole. Their writhing torment triggered another hot gush of jism. "Ungh!"

Wanda! God, Wilma had forgotten all about her twin sister. Now she was past daring, or even being able to think about what Fred James might be doing to her.

"Cuuuuuummming!" Jack groaned with raging joy. "I'm cumming, Wanda!"

Wilma sneered with bitter glee. Yes… whatever it was Fred wanted to do, Wanda had it coming!

"Oooh, God!" Wanda said with an anxious breath.

Fred had played the gracious host and had ushered Wanda through the double doors with a sweeping gesture of his right hand. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the faint, flickering candlelight that lit the large room and its curious furnishings. In the few seconds it took her darting eyes to widen, Wanda heard the heavy doors swing closed behind her… then the snap of a heavy iron bolt.

"Wealth allows me to indulge my wildest fantasies," Fred explained. "This room is modeled after the torture chamber in an ancient castle I once saw in Spain."

"How quaint," Wanda said.

A nervous shiver gripped her throat. The stonewalled room gave her the creeps. It dripped moisture all around, as thought they had suddenly descended into a dungeon buried deep in the bowels of the earth.

"Funny…" Wanda said, making her voice as light as she could. "When I dream about being rich, I think more of diamonds and furs."

"You shall have them!" Fred said.

With a flourish he produced a gleaming crown. In the dim light, Wanda could not tell if the stones in the ornate head dress were real or not, but he placed it on her head with loving care and tilted it just so.

"And your cape, my queen!"

His warm breath caressed the pearly hollow of her ear as he swirled something soft around her trembling bare shoulders. There could be no mistaking the feel of real fur. The deep purple velvet cape was ermine lined, like something Wanda had seen in pictures of storybook queens when she was a kid. Black-tipped ermine tails dotted the front of the long cape and tingled the exposed swelling of her tits.

"And you shall wear this."

Fred turned behind her again. Wanda had only a split second to wonder what else Fred had in his kinky thoughts… then she heard a click as hard and sharp as the snapping of the door bolt. He'd locked her neck in a heavy steel collar.