Dona Irene (continued)

[MuscleWomanBR]

Dona Irene looked at herself in the mirror once more. She was impeccable. She stared at and admired that mature, proud, upright, confident woman. Strong. Very strong. Aggressive. Unstoppable. Her hands were holding the two black belts that hugged her waist. Powerful hands, calloused from lifting weights and karate training. "No man is capable of beating me," she murmured as she left, after putting a small key in a pocket of her kimono. Calmly, with almost majestic steps, she solemnly descended the staircase, as if she were in a palace. She crossed the kitchen. She reached the outbuilding. She opened the door.
"Your turn to be beaten, Marcos." And slowly, she walked towards her prisoner.
He had learned to admire and be excited by her athletic figure, her physical strength, her martial skills. But Marcos never got used to the beatings and humiliations during his almost daily fights with Dona Irene. The former MMA fighter resisted as best he could, and sometimes managed to demonstrate his skills. However, almost a year of captivity and successive defeats against the mature karateka began to undermine his self-confidence and physical ability. So he fought her knowing he would lose. But he fought.

[MuscleWomanBR]

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[MuscleWomanBR]

Without warning, however, she put her hands behind his neck and unlocked the small padlock that closed the leather mask.
- Take it off.
Marcos was confused. He didn't quite understand the order.
- Take it off. I'll leave it on.
Eagerly, he began to untie knots and whatever else was holding the leather cape that had been covering his entire head for almost a year, from the neck, squeezing his jaw, preventing him from speaking. When he pulled it off, he smiled with unimaginable relief, breathing deeply, as if he were emerging from drowning. His face was unrecognizable. The beatings had left marks and there were still traces of blood around his eyes, under his nose and on his beard, now huge and misshapen. His hair, which had always been shaved, had grown a lot, reminding him of his black ancestry. Naturally, he couldn't see any of it, as there was no mirror in his captivity.
- You look horrible - grumbled Dona Irene. – I forgot to cut your mane and shave your beard. – There was an almost maternal tone to this statement, which he knew and feared: it was usually a harbinger of terrible blows.
However, she began to walk around the outbuilding, always with her hands on the black bandages.
– Since you've been here, you haven't said a word, have you noticed?
Only then did Marcos realize that he was no longer limited to grunts: now he could speak. He fell to his knees. The first words came out in a whisper:
– Please, let me go...
Dona Irene just stared at him. He began to cry, speaking in a barely audible whisper.
– Please... Please... Please... – he murmured, with his hands clasped together. – I'm going to die here... – His broad, muscular athlete's shoulders trembled. – What more do you want from me? I'm completely devastated...
She squatted down in front of him and pretended to look tender, stroking his dirty, hard beard with disgust.

[MuscleWomanBR]

– Marcos, my dear, I've told you many times that you're not leaving here anymore. You're mine. You're my little toy. – His crying became convulsive and painfully shrill. – She pulled him roughly by the beard. – If you keep up that stray dog ​​whining, I'll cripple you, understand? Do you want to be crippled? – Marcos immediately stopped crying.
Dona Irene stood up and looked at the kidnapped man, who remained on his knees, looking at her with an expression of terror. He was still healthy and muscular, cleaned by hose baths and well-nourished by the porridge she fed him. Maybe he was a little pale from the little sunlight she let in through the retractable roof of the outbuilding, from time to time. But she felt proud of herself for knowing how to keep her captive like this, so fit. Her former trainer's body was still attractive. Even his long, misshapen hair and beard seemed to hide a sexy face, typical of the Brazilian racial mix. She took a long look at the volume under his underwear – the only piece of clothing Marcos wore.
"Take off your underwear," she ordered dryly, as she began to stretch.
Marcos obeyed, trembling. And looked at her, on the verge of tears.
"Please, Mrs. Irene..." she whispered, in an even more plaintive tone. "I can't take it anymore..."
"Can't take what?"
"Beating..."
"Beating? By who?" she tilted her head in a mocking gesture like the tone of her voice, without stopping to stretch.
"From... from... from you, Mrs. Irene..."
"I don't understand. Explain this to me."
"Please, Mrs. Irene, I can't take it anymore..."
"Explain!" she screamed. Marcos trembled. – I... I... I... Mrs. Irene, you... please...
She stopped stretching. She sighed impatiently. Marcos understood.
– I can't take any more beatings from you, Mrs. Irene...
– Ah... I'm starting to understand. What else?
– You're... You fight very well.
– I fight?
– You're a champion...
– Don't talk nonsense, Marcos. I don't compete in championships, I don't train to compete.
– No... You're...
– What am I, Marcos?
– Karateka.
– What else?
– Boxer. Jiu-Jitsu practitioner.
– And?
– Strong... Very strong... The strongest woman I've ever seen...
– Stronger than you?
– Stronger than me...
– What did I do to you, Marcos?
– You showed me who's boss here... You showed me what strength is...
– What am I, Marcos?
– A woman who lifts weights...
– I lift weights? – You train with weights every day... Karate, boxing, jiu-jitsu...
– What do I do with you, Marcos?
– You eat me...
– I don't understand.
– I... – Marcos chokes on his suppressed tears. His effort to speak is clear. – You come here almost every night, to eat me... – His speech now gushes out along with the tears mixed with the drool that starts to run from his mouth. – I get on all fours to receive that plastic cock in my ass! And I'm enjoying it, Mrs. Irene! I enjoy your breasts slapping against my back more and more! My cock gets hard just thinking about it, see? I like it! I get turned on by feeling your thighs slapping against mine while you stick that cock in my ass! I like it when you hold my torso from behind, as if I were your bitch... I get turned on by your body, Mrs. Irene! I get turned on by your strength, by your muscles... – He stops talking to take a deep breath, in a pause that is at the same time full of sadness. – I just ask you... I beg you, Mrs. Irene... please... don't hit me anymore... – She started crying again, this time convulsively. – I... I can't take it anymore... please... please...
She hadn't stopped stretching while Marcos was still whining. With a martial coldness, Mrs. Irene was no longer listening to what the kidnapped man was saying.

[MuscleWomanBR]

The athletic lady was choosing from her fighting arsenal which blows she would apply to him. Under the perfumed kimono, her sculptural muscles were properly stretched and warmed up, ready for combat.
With her torso impeccably straight, her thighs half-open and her hands on the black belts, she placed her knees on the floor, in front of Marcos – who had remained in that same position since he had started talking. She waited for that athletic man, now with his shoulders arched under the weight of a sad cry, to finally calm down. Little by little, he began to calm down. As usual, Mrs. Irene was extremely quick and precise in the surprising gesture: suddenly, she grabbed the former MMA champion's scrotum, while pulling his neck by the ring of the chain that held him. He stifled a groan in his throat, his eyes wide, in panic at what could be coming. – You'll only stop getting beaten when you manage to beat me – the softness of her voice contrasted with the violence of the scene. – I love eating your ass and when you suck my pussy. But what really gives me pleasure is beating you, Marcos. Every time I beat you in a fight, every time I draw blood from you, every time I use you to practice my moves, every time I lift weights with you... Marcos! You have no idea what I feel...
He didn't dare to argue with her. He knew exactly what she was thinking because, from day one, the lonely widow had never hidden her obsession with physical strength, defined muscles and expertise in martial arts. And, by adding these three skills together, she showed men her superiority. She never let Marcos forget all of that.

[dennio123]

Absolutely fantastic continuation of Dona Irene's story 👏

[Dona Fell Friz]

 

[MuscleWomanBR]

Thank you very much!

[MuscleWomanBR]

Still holding his scrotum, but without squeezing it, Mrs. Irene made him stand up. With her free hand, she caressed her prisoner's defined abdomen.
"I like that..." and massaged the ex-fighter's already erect penis. She pulled his underwear down to his knees and began to masturbate him, speaking with paradoxical ease and ease. "You know, Marcos, I think I'm the only woman in the world capable of doing this. I'm everything no one expects from a woman." He expected the usual speech about the physical superiority she had developed, about the pleasure her strength gave her, about the muscles she had built against the stereotypes of female fragility, about her relentless desire to dominate men. But Mrs. Irene always surprised him. Or at least frustrated his expectations. He was about to cum when, without stopping masturbating him, she slapped him in the face. It was the most humiliating way to provoke him. With his erect penis in the palm of his tormentor's hand, Marcos tried to grab her fist, which she easily freed herself from and, at breakneck speed, launched a series of punches to the kidnapped man's chin and nose – all the while masturbating him. He began to use boxing techniques. Now she let go of his penis and, for the first time since she had kidnapped him, grabbed his neck in a fatal strangulation. Marcos' eyes widened and soon his breathing became difficult, while his hands tried, in a useless and desperate gesture, to pull the woman's fists away – she was sweating from the tremendous effort, because strangling a man like that was no trivial task, even for a woman like her. Shortly after, the former trainer fainted. Dona Irene, ferocious, began to punch the defenseless Marcos in the face, which was bleeding profusely. However, suddenly, she stopped, with a frightened expression: the doorbell rang.

[MuscleWomanBR]

As she looked at the handsome Nunes passed out on the armchair, Mrs. Irene was truly insecure and indecisive. She remembered, now too late, that she had "killed" a police investigator who had come to arrest her. As strong and skilled as she was – "And I am," she whispered, always proud of her athletic prowess – she knew very well that she could not face an entire force of armed police officers who would not hesitate to kill her. Perhaps the rest of her life depended on what she did at that moment. The first action, which did not require long deliberation, was to gag and tie him up, using the expertise she had acquired in Marcos' kidnapping. And, while she immobilized the investigator, she began to list the possibilities. She thought about apologizing as soon as he woke up, but she could not find any plausible argument that would justify what she had just done. She could simply release him, after repeated apologies, and turn herself in: it would be easier and cheaper to submit to the law than to resist arrest, even running the risk of having her secret discovered. She even considered committing murder, hiding Nunes's body in the backyard – but the idea repulsed her, certain that she would end up being discovered sooner or later: besides having never killed anyone in her entire life, she knew that no police officer disappears with impunity. Dona Irene did not take any of these initiatives. When she imagined herself penetrating Nunes with her strap-on, while he swallowed Marcos's penis, she forgot any risk of keeping another man in her captivity: the irrepressible desire to see two handsome, athletic men having sex under her gaze and under her orders ruled the fifty-year-old. The beast roared inside her. So, in addition to the tape covering the new prisoner's mouth, Dona Irene blindfolded him and lifted him over her shoulders, taking him to the outbuilding. When she burst in, Marcos's swollen eyes widened in shock. He tried to say something, but she silenced him with a look, after placing Nunes on the ground. Without delay, she dressed the ex-fighter's bloody head with the leather mask, condemning him to silence once again. Under the leather, he cried softly.
"Now you have a partner, Marcos. Now at least you can't complain that you're alone. I still don't know how things will be from now on. But you better not try anything stupid with your little friend." She smiled sardonically at her ex-trainer. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun..."

[Dona Fell Friz]

Truly chilling pulp fiction.

[MuscleWomanBR]

Since Guto had been hospitalized, Sandra had taken over the classes at the dojo. After all, she couldn't jeopardize the business. While Marcos was still unaccounted for – and, after more than a year, she had already given up hope that her boyfriend would be found alive – her profitable and always crowded gym and martial arts gym had to operate until a decision was made about what to do with it. But that wasn't the only reason Sandra had become, albeit temporarily and informally, the sensei, while awaiting Guto's slow and complicated recovery. Ever since her torrid encounter with Nunes, she realized that she could break down barriers that, for psychological, moral or cultural reasons, she had previously thought insurmountable for a woman.
Always very sporty, since childhood, Sandra was encouraged by her parents to practice physical activities that they considered "more feminine", such as ballet. But it was at the gym where she learned her first steps as a ballerina that she saw boys, young men and very few girls practicing, among other types of combat, karate. She was fascinated. Her proud, independent and even aggressive personality found expression in this sport, which she joined against her parents' wishes. In fact, she had secretly enrolled in classes. But it didn't take long for her parents to discover their daughter's secret audacity, so determined and fearless. Sandra was forced to abandon her plan – but not her desire – to become a karateka. After being severely reprimanded for her insolence, she was induced to join Olympic gymnastics, which earned her several awards throughout her adolescence, filling her room with trophies and medals that her parents proudly showed off to impressed visitors. However, she never devoted herself completely to the sport, to the point of achieving high performance and applying for the Olympics. She continued with gymnastics to stay in shape and to give vent to her desire to develop a powerful body. When she turned 18, the persistent Sandra gave up gymnastics and returned to karate, much to her parents' despair: with her salary as an intern, she paid for the classes in this martial art that she so wanted to learn, and that her parents refused to finance. Her discipline, dedication and progress were more than remarkable. And she did everything for a pleasure that not even she could explain, and not because of an almost pathological obsession of a competitor. To improve her performance, always keeping herself in good condition, Sandra dedicated herself more and more to bodybuilding, although she never sought hypertrophy: she wanted to build a healthy, athletic, agile and strong physique, but not "monstrous" – as she referred to the bodies of male and female bodybuilders.

[MuscleWomanBR]

It was karate and bodybuilding that led her to discover Marcos' gym, near the small apartment she had moved to live in alone at the age of 21. As soon as she saw him for the first time, Sandra found him an extremely attractive man, and it didn't take long for him to discover the same about her, observing the disciplined and beautiful girl, with a well-defined body – and increasingly wearing tight and skimpy clothes, when she realized that Marcos was "watching" her during her weight training exercises.
"I think you are the most disciplined student in this gym," he began, in a sudden approach.
"Thank you!" Sandra couldn't say anything else, amidst a somewhat nervous smile. Marcos thought she had been offended by his boldness.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your training."
"You won't interrupt. I was just finishing up," she lied.
"I saw that you do karate too."
"Yes, karate has been my great passion since childhood." I do a lot of weight training to ensure my performance in karate...
Marcos was surprised. He didn't expect to hear something like that from a woman.
– Wow! I've never heard a girl say that...
– No? And what should a girl say? – His tone of voice was studiedly provocative and embarrassing.
– It's just that... Well, it's just that girls are usually worried about getting their bodies in shape... You know how it is... I've never seen a woman doing weight training like that, thinking about improving her performance... in karate... I mean, usually people who do karate also do weight training... But... Well, you know... Do you compete?
He didn't have the courage to say that he'd never seen a woman dedicate herself so intensely to both karate and weight training – and that many gave up as soon as they started training in either sport. Her persistence would only be justified if she were a competitor.
– No, I do karate because I really like to fight... I love it! And I also do weight training because I really like being strong. Now Marcos was overcome by unprecedented admiration: he was enchanted by the unusual and assertive posture of that beautiful young woman who spoke of physical strength and karate so naturally – as if she were not a woman. In fact, he had only seen something similar among men. And in one or two women who appeared at the gym preparing for the various categories of the female bodybuilding competitions.

[MuscleWomanBR]

– I'm sorry: I didn't even ask your name – which he already knew, obviously, because he had read her profile. Sandra hid her certainty that he had done so, and extended her hand to him.
- My name is Sandra. – She showed a sample of her strength by squeezing Marcos' sensually masculine and no less strong hand. He "felt" the message. And he gave her a look that was both seductive and admiring, already imagining the feats that the two of them could perform in bed.
- Well, you must already know that I'm Marcos, right?
- Of course! Everyone here knows who the owner of the gym is – and she smiled with seductive sympathy, giving in to the erotic tension that Marcos accentuated with that beautiful pair of dark brown eyes devouring her. The sex between the two was invariably electrifying, but it never led to anything that would expose the fetish for physical domination that was dormant in Sandra – whose progress in karate, combined with her bodybuilding, accelerated thanks to the encouragement of Marcos, who was truly fascinated by the fighter's prowess: after meeting him, she soon became the only female black belt at the academy. However, it had never crossed his mind that his girlfriend's karate skills could express or satisfy some fetish. The frequency of their sexual relations was unusual, even after years of dating, but it did not include any practices that were excessively exotic or unorthodox or that would cause any surprise. Of course, they introduced some sex toys into their erotic games, or techniques to delay orgasm, or even anal sex – surrounded by taboos among women and perhaps for that very reason so desired by men –, to which Sandra submitted herself more for the pleasure of providing pleasure to her partner than exclusively satisfying herself. Furthermore, she especially revealed a capacity to excite her partner that few women could achieve: Sandra could hold herself in body positions, supporting Marcos' weight, that very few partners could achieve, such as – thanks to her thighs that pushed two hundred kilos on the leg press and her arms that lifted twenty kilo weights – riding her boyfriend's penis for hours on end in the Amazon position, keeping his heels suspended in her hands. This simply "drove him crazy". The fact that they were athletes prepared their bodies for this ardor and this sexual performance, which were not the only reasons that kept them together. There was an affection that was as sincere as it was intense between them. As corny or old-fashioned as it may sound, the two truly loved each other. In every aspect of their relationship, they were both quite happy – until everything was abruptly interrupted by Marcos' inexplicable disappearance.

[MuscleWomanBR]

It wasn't him she was thinking about now, however. In fact, Sandra remembered her boyfriend less and less. In her busy daily life, there was less and less space for his memory. In addition to her job at a company, she was busy managing the gym and, now as an instructor, teaching karate classes – without neglecting her weight training, which she decided to intensify even more. No, it wasn't Marcos she was thinking about, but Nunes.

At the end of the workday, sitting in the office with a panoramic view of the vast weight training room, and still dressed as a karateka after three hours of classes, she watched the gym's last clients struggling with painful weight exercises. Her gaze swept the corners she could see, and she noticed that light was emanating from the door of the martial arts room. "Did they forget to turn the light on?" she thought, as she headed to the dojo. What a surprise when she saw on the mat, stretching in a very white karate gi, the mature woman, short in stature and with lethal skills that she knew well.
- Irene, what are you doing here?
- Stretching, Sandra.
- I've already noticed that. But what are you doing here at the gym? How do you dare to come back here after what you did to Guto? How did you get in here?
- Through the door. Did you forget that I'm a black belt? - And she pointed to the two belts overlapping around her waist. - I put Guto to sleep. Who has the courage to stop me?
Marcos' girlfriend made an expression of impatient dismay.
- Tell me what you want, Irene. Tell me quickly and go away. I don't want you here at the gym.
The fifty-something woman smiled with insolent irony, stopping her stretches and standing threateningly, erect, with her hands resting on the black belts.

[MuscleWomanBR]

– What's wrong, girl? Have you forgotten the pleasure we had together? Do you think I don't know that you were dying to fuck me again? You liked it, didn't you? – She started to walk around Sandra, slowly. – You liked feeling my muscles, my strength, didn't you? You saw what a woman is capable of, when well trained, didn't you? – She put her mouth to Sandra's ear. – I loved lifting you up and sucking your pussy. I need to thank you. I didn't know it was so good... But it's good because you're fit and a karateka... You're not like that fat idiot... What was her name again? Carla? Kênia? Kelvin?
– Kelly.
– That's it! Kelly! She looked like a gas cylinder...
– I think I understand now why she disappeared... What did you do to Kelly, Irene? Did you hit her too?
The widow didn't say anything. She just smiled and caressed the belts around her waist. – You weren't fucking... You were beating the poor thing!
- Do you think I would fuck that monster, Sandra?! Spare me from thinking about something like that... Yes! I beat that brat! She came at me, thinking she could beat me with all that fat. Poor thing... I beat that girl so much... It wasn't easy, but I ripped off that disgusting fat woman's black belt.
Although shocked, Sandra pretended to be calm and indifferent to what she had just heard. She wanted to get rid of that woman as soon as possible.
- Irene, I don't have all night. Tell me what you want.
- Look, Sandra, I'm not ripping off your black belt now because I need you. Otherwise, I'd make you swallow your audacity. No one gives me orders. No one! – She said this almost touching her face to Sandra's, who tried to hide her fear: she knew that Mrs. Irene was unbeatable.
- Just tell me what you want, Irene.
– I have a little gift for you.

After dropping Nunes off at the gym, the widow went back into the house and came back with the strap-on between her legs. Without delay, she immediately tore the policeman's clothes off, as he had already regained consciousness. In addition to his mouth being covered by the adhesive, his eyes were blindfolded. The ferocity with which everything happened made Marcos cringe, terrified.

– I'm going to show you how to eat a man, Marcos – she said, as she smeared the silicone penis with a huge amount of intimate lubricant.