Henry Perkins: The neighbor_s wife in chains

"Paddle my shitty ass!" Laura Stone hissed. She was perched nakedly on her knees atop the diving board in her back yard with bare tits and one cheek of her face scratching against the grainy surface. Her naked hips were thrust high into the air, eagerly thrashing about as her husband, Jim, whipped the ping pong paddle through the air to batter its rough surface against her ass. The skin of Laura's ass cheeks glowed a brilliant scarlet from the blows that had already landed, and hot cunt juices from her leaking pussy flowed down the insides of both velvety thighs. The smashing paddle ignited hot flames of sexual pain and pleasure which ran through her flesh to spear bolts of lightning up her puckered shit hole and tight cunt. Tiny breakers of cum like waves rippling onto a beach were already crashing through her guts, and the beautiful sex-starved woman hadn't even yet been fucked by a hard prick.

Her husband, Jim, was as naked as his wife, and he stood to one side of the diving board of the kidney-shaped swimming pool as he slashed brutally down with the paddle to sting his wife's bare ass. Jim's cock was raging hard, jutting lewdly out from his crotch, and already drops of pre-cum stained the end of his prick. Whipping bitch flesh made him ache with fuck-lust.

"You like that, my little bitch?" he growled at Laura, his voice strained up an octave by the lust that was rampant in his body. "Then, here's some more of my paddle to tear up your ass!"

"Hit me!" Laura encouraged, then she yelped as the paddle savaged her ass again. The blows stoked the flames in her cunt.

The late-afternoon sun slanted into the oversized yard, throwing the shadows of the pair into the pool. The summer heat had slipped some as the day had wound down and, now with the clock moving toward four, the warm air bathed their skin. Still, both naked fuckers had worked up a sweat from the hot bondage and discipline action. Around them, a massive shamrock green rolled to the five-foot stone wall that surrounded the back yard. And, lining the wall, there were shrubs and trees that blocked the view over the wall except for a few strategic places.

"Is she there?" Laura gasped, wiggling her naked, beaten ass wound to beg for more.

Jim grasped his wife's luxurious brown hair, now wet with sweat, from where it lay across her back and he pulled hard to arch her neck to the rear. Laura gurgled from the sudden strangulation, and her breath quickly disappeared. But there was no panic as her eyes bulged, so she heard the words her husband whispered into her ear.

"She's looking over the wall through the trunks of the alder trees," Jim growled, then he released his wife's damp hair.

Laura's head snapped down, cracking one of her cheeks sharply against the board. Still she managed to glance over toward the trees. Sure enough, she could see her young neighbor's face over the five-foot wall.

"God," Laura groaned as she turned her head back. "I can't wait to get my tongue up her tight, juicy young cunt!"

Then agony sliced through her ass as the ping pong paddle slammed her battered flesh again, and new needles of pain erupted all over her ass cheeks and made her waves of cum break even higher. The pussy juices had poured so thickly now that they even leaked down to stain the board, and Laura was getting close to needing a hard cock plundering into her cunt hole, which already felt like it was about to explode.

Across the lawn, the soft summer breeze rustled the leaves of the alders. They were young trees, their trunks and branches still immature, and the breaks between them provided one of the few natural windows far looking into the Stones' back yard. And it was there that Jim had noticed the shining golden hair, almost like a halo above the fair skin of his young neighbor's face. Brenda Ellis – as the Stones well knew was her custom – had been spending the late afternoon inside her own back yard clipping roses and weeding flowerbeds in the place she and her husband, Bill, now called home. The newlywed couple had been so lucky to find it – there were so few nice ones to rent, particularly ones they could afford – and Brenda had almost swooned when the Stones had agreed to rent them the bungalow that lay alongside the Stones' massive estate.

The neighborhood was a nice one, secluded at the end of a road in the northwest part of town. The Stones' place was the only mansion, and the rest of the houses were all larger then Brenda's, but for a newlywed couple it was almost perfect.

They had moved right in, not even taking the time – really, they hadn't had the money – for a honeymoon trip. But that didn't bother Brenda a bit. Their honeymoon had been right here, and it was in the house she loved. Some people had criticized her and Bill for marrying so young, but they weren't doing too badly.

Brenda had been clipping a rose, a big lavender one that must have been a hybrid, when she had first heard the groans and soft screams drifting across the stone wall from the Stones' back door. At first Brenda thought the sounds must have been coming from a radio or a television left on and forgotten but then she decided that what she was hearing would never be broadcast over the air. Sharp slaps and screams of pain were interlaced with groans of lusty pleasure making a blend that Brenda didn't understand. She stood up from the roses, clippers still in hand, and glanced over toward the wall. She was barely five feet tall, so she couldn't see a thing.

"Oooooh," came a sound, soft and barely audible.

But the young newlywed girl could tell that it was a woman's voice that had made it. Images flashed in her mind as she wondered whether Mrs. Stone, her neighbor and the landlord's wife, had somehow hurt herself and now lay alone and injured in the yard. But what if it was something else? What were the moans of pleasure? Brenda certainly didn't want to push herself unwanted into a clumsy situation because, after all, it was her landlord's yard over there. But if Mrs. Stone was injured, there was no way Brenda could just let her lie there and moan without at least trying to help.

And then she spotted the concrete blocks pushed up against the wall. There were two of them, and they were stacked against the stone barrier almost as if they had been placed there to allow someone to peek over the wall. By using them, Brenda could see into the Stones' back yard, hopefully without being observed, to find out if her help was really needed.

She dropped her clippers at the edge of the rose bed and moved over to the concrete blocks. Her stomach was clenched tightly from a combination of fear and excitement, almost as if she were doing something her body knew she shouldn't. But she'd already made up her mind that a peek into the next yard was the way she really should go. Carefully, she placed one foot atop the stacked blocks then reached up with her fingertips for the top of the wall, and pulled herself up to where she could see. Brenda gasped and almost fell to the ground. The only thing that saved her was her fingers on the top of the wall. Nothing she had ever dreamed of in her short life had prepared her for thee sight that came sweeping to her eyes.

Her neighbor, the beautiful, brown-haired Mrs. Stone, was lying naked on her face atop the diving board to the pool with her bare ass thrust high into the air. The woman's equally naked husband stood behind and to the side with some kind of paddle held up in the air. As the young newlywed watched through the alders, Jim Stone viciously slashed the paddle down onto his wife's scarlet ass.

The blow startled Brenda. She almost screamed out at the awful man as Mrs. Stone howled in pain. Brenda's mind swirled. Why was the large man punishing his wife right out there in the yard? Brenda's heart almost stopped at the sight of such a brutish thing, and she knew she had to do something about the horror she was observing. Then she was shocked into silence by the words she heard from the other woman's mouth.