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Review This Story || Author: Harry Berg

Torture The Widow

Chapter 5 Break Her

Chapter 5 – Break Her

Please take note! Adults Only Literature

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

If you are an underage minor or offended by such material -or- if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, etc.

Copyright 2004

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Say the word basement to me and I picture a dirty concrete floor, fuse box, hot water heater, furnace, and junk like in the home where I grew up. Dark and scary with spider webs, the kind of place you only go when you have to.

Of course, some couples convert their basements to play space. They clean up a little, purchase some indoor/outdoor carpet; bolt some two-by-fours for a St. Andrews (God forbid you whip your naked wife on one like Jesus Christ was crucified.), go to the hardware store for chains and S-hooks, and visit the local Adult Store for nipple clamps, spreader bars and a riding crop. Thus equipped you're ready to momentarily spice up what has become a very boring sex life.

If you have kids, you have to conceal this shit somehow. If a nosy neighbor asks why are those big hooks screwed into the overhead floor joists, you just reply, "Don't know, they were there when we bought the place."

But there are basements and then there is the Donaldson's. I had no idea why we were leaving the comfortable well-appointed library but I was the prospective daughter-in-law on my best behavior. I didn't ask any questions as the seven of us stood up, drinks in hand and followed the General down a hallway. He came to a heavy wooden door, pulled one of those laser inscribed keys out of his pocket and worked the tumbler. I recall wondering who locked their basement door. Normally, no one wants to go there. He reached in to flip on the light then stood back and let everyone enter and descend the stairs.

When Trace who was leading turned the light on, I wanted to exclaim, "wow, what a terrific media room/ home entertainment center". The Donaldson's basement, at least the part I was in, was damn nice, completely finished and paneled. There was a U shape of leather couches facing a fireplace. Over the fireplace was the largest flat panel television screen, I'd ever seen. I asked and was told that it was sixty-inch diagonal. Later I saw a similar one in an electronics store and learned it cost $20,000. Surround sound speakers were mounted in each corner.

Mary Ellen got busy igniting the gas fireplace while the General refreshed everyone's drink. I suppose one criticism you could make of the family was that they drank too much. The family drink was Jameson's Reserve with a single cube of ice. Being an eager to please daughter-in-law, I'd switched from my usual vodka martini and gone to brown whisky. Well I am part Irish.

The room was large and didn't look that old. I'd guess its dimensions as twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep. How nice and cozy I recall thinking as my future sister-in-law turned the gas up and flames warmed the room. Trace had gone over to a wall cabinet of electronics and opened the glass door. He took a DVD case out of his coat pocket and dropped it into the player. Trace came back to the couch and sat down beside me. He put one hand on my bare knee and I remember thinking not in front of your folks, I want them to think I'm a lady. Events were about to prove I was an idiot.

"What are we going to watch?" I asked innocent as all hell. Since there had been so much wedding talk, I guessed that we might watch a video of Robbie and Denise's wedding or pictures of Trace as a kid, boring family history that you burden a perspective new family member with.

"You'll see," said my beloved powering on the plasma monitor. As soon as it flickered to life, he pressed the Play button on the DVD remote. It took a few seconds but there I was skirt pulled up to my waist, shaking my thong covered ass to Boogie Nights and licking the tip of the dildo that Trace gave me the night before.

"What the hell," I yelled reaching desperately for the remote thinking my fiancé had either lost his mind or made a mistake playing last night's DVD instead of The Sound of Music.

"Relax," said Trace holding the remote control out of my reach. "We're all adults here."

"But," I said looking at that HDTV screen where I had just placed one leg on a straight chair moved my thong aside and slipped six inches of latex into my vagina. I had that good on my face that girls get when something nice first enters our pussy and we know there's more to come.

I scanned the room to gage the family's reaction to "Rozz, The Dildo Fucking Slut" but everyone was staring at the screen. I wanted to crawl under a rock. My future in-laws that I was trying so hard to impress would think I was absolute trailer trash.

"Calm down, dear, we've all gone through this," said Lois, Trace's mother, sensing my panic. Later, I wondered what Lois meant by that remark. Decade ago, had the General taken Lois to meet his parents and shown them a 16MM home movie of Lois sucking his cock and taking it up her ass? Possibly, military families are strong on tradition.

I wanted to ask, "Gone through what" but stayed quiet. On screen I had shed my blouse and bra and was holding my boobs up sucking and licking my own nipples. I danced forward and Trace's head came into view as he leaned forward to suck and pinch my nipples. After the nipple work, I danced back, turned my head profile to the camera and placed the pussy-glistening dildo in my mouth. I pushed on the base and drove that latex lover into my throat creating a bulge in my larynx that Trace's close-up captured for digital posterity.

"You lucky bastard, she can already deep throat," said Robbie, my future brother-in-law.

"It took me months to learn. I kept gagging. Now I'm a cock swallower par excellence," added Denise, his wife.

"Yea, you're as good as any whore in Seoul," said Robbie who was on leave from his unit in South Korea. The way he said it implied Denise was just okay in the deep throat department. And the way Robbie glanced at me said that I was going to have an opportunity to provide my own comparison to the working girls of Korea.

I was trying not to look stunned. Still, being asked to do a mental about face on the sexual practices of your future in-laws was straining my ability to process new and contradictory information. Lois, my future mother-in-law had impressed me as the model for a military wife. She dressed and acted the perfect lady. We had even gone for high tea at the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Boston that afternoon when we took a break from shopping. High tea can you believe it. I didn't even know there was such a thing anymore. She was the epitome of a general's wife, impeccably coiffured, dressed in an expensive St. John's knit suit, a woman who knew her place in life and was very comfortable in it.

Mary Ellen, the youngest, was their high-energy daughter, pretty, petite, and smart. She reminded me of one of those ingénues you see on the Disney channel. Robbie was the solid older brother, dedicated to the service of his country. Robbie had the General's military bearing and you could predict there was a general's star in his future. Denise had gone out of her way to welcome me to the family and see that I was comfortable. Like any mother she talked about her growing family detailing the accomplishments and failings of each child. Denise was very attractive in a cool blonde way. She had a great body that she attributed to her devotion to power yoga.

The General struck me as a model of moral rectitude. No nonsense, it's black or white type, devoted to his country, a man who considered leading men into battle mankind's highest calling.

To sum it up, the Donaldson's appeared to be a family that belonged on the cover of Saturday Evening Post with an American flag as a backdrop. But appearances are deceptive and the ultimate reality was that Bondage and Discipline magazine should have featured them as S&M family of the year.

We watched in silence as on screen I danced my way down to my birthday suit. I'm a decent dancer and I was horny for Trace when I got off the plane. Up on the big screen, I sat down on the edge of the bed with my legs spread. One moist hand was working my clit while the other was dildo fucking what was obviously a very wet snatch. Then with the dildo still in my cunt I turned over, butt to the camera and stuck a finger up my ass.

"Do you get wet easily, Rosalind?" said Lois in a matter-of-fact voice as if she'd asked me whether I like to cook.

"I hate dry pussy," said the General. "Lois used to get wet as Boston Harbor as soon as you said lets fuck but now she's dried up."

Lois looking embarrassed opened the top drawer of an end table and brought out a plastic bottle of Astro-Glide. She stood, hiked her knit skirt up, revealing she was wearing stay up hose and no panty. She quickly sat down throwing one leg over the couch arm, squeezed some lube on her fingers and applied it to her vagina. The fact that her two sons were in the room said everything there was to say about Donaldson familial relations. How many sons have seen their Mom oil up their snatch?

"Rozz can get wet just thinking about cock, can't you baby," said Trace his arm around my shoulder. I reminded myself it was a good thing he was bragging on his bride-to-be.

"Nature blessed me with overactive Bartholin glands," was my nurse-like reply. That was true. I created a large wet spot when I fucked, the kind that made it hard to find a dry part of the bed to sleep on after a good long screwing.

On screen, Trace brought the camcorder in for a close-up of me speaking to the camera.

"More sound," barked the General. Trace fiddled with the remotes.

"I want you to drop your load of hot creamy cum on my whore's tongue," spoke the on screen Rosalind in a seductive voice. She stuck out her tongue like a hooker does to get the John to pull over to the curb.

Sitting on the couch and watching the DVD, I recalled how horny I was last night. I resisted the urge to move Trace's hand from my knee to my crotch. My libido was starting to take over. I'd never actually watched myself on video. In my freshman year, I'd allowed this guy I was dating to take some nude shots of me but they were more glamour shots meaning I wasn't stuffing dildo's in my cunt. I was getting turned on watching myself perform on camera.

My body looked great. As soon as Trace and I got engaged, I enrolled in an off base fitness club that offered what they called the 'Buff Brides Seminar'. Diet and exercise were the order of the day. As part of the eighteen-week course, I got thee one-hour sessions each week with a personal trainer. The club assigned Slava as my personal trainer. Slava was a recent immigrant from the Ukraine with an H1-B work permit. He was training for the next Olympics. After an hour of close contact working on Nautilus machines and free weights, I found his body irresistible. I suggested that I visit Slava's apartment for some work on my pelvic thrusts. The man was a fucking machine. It was vanilla sex but great vanilla sex. I rationalized that since I hadn't said my wedding vowels yet, fidelity was not a requirement. After I walked down the aisle I planned to be faithful. Well, that was the plan. Anyway, I burned up more calories and fat cells riding Slava's cock outside the club than exercising with him inside. I was buff.

Movement caught my eye taking it away from the screen. I'd been so intent on watching the video that I missed Denise hauling Robbie's cock out of his pants. When I looked over, they both were watching the screen as she stroked his meat and he unbuttoned her blouse. Robbie freed a tit from her bra and a large boob became visible.

"I'm still swollen from nursing Joshua," said Denise looking around. Denise had told me she had just taken her youngest off the tit a week ago.

Her nipples had that big sloppy look women get when an infant is using them for a binky several hours a day.

"I like them that way," said Robbie leaning over to plant his mouth on the exposed boob. He captured the big spongy nipple between his teeth and stretched it outward. Denise kept a smile on her face but I could tell he was hurting her. When he stopped, there were teeth marks on her areola. I allowed my mind to fantasize that it was my knocker that he'd bit and I felt a reaction in my cunt.

"Then you can piss in my mouth to wash it down," spoke the screen Rosalind in a throaty voice.

"Trace said you like drinking pee," commented Mary Ellen as she hiked up her dress, shoved her thong aside and began stroking the little man in the boat.

"Yes, and you?" I said wondering exactly what were the family limits when it came to sex.

"Yes, you have to be if you're going to get through the Point. First week I was there, the upperclassmen take the female plebes into the restroom and use them for a urinal. You have to thank them after you drain their bladders," said Mary Ellen.

"Thank You Sir for allowing this scum maggot pledge to ingest your golden urine," shouted Mary Ellen in illustration. I decided that West Point must be more fun than I had envisioned.

On screen, the camera on its tripod captured me sucking Trace's cock.

"Suck me, you two worthless whores," barked the Genera startling me. That provoked an immediate reaction from Lois and Mary Ellen. They unzipped his trousers then lowered them. They extracted his semi-hard cock from his boxers. I had the opportunity to see what a general officer's cock looked like, pretty much the same as everybody else's.

I pushed out of my mind that there was a genuine case of multiple incest happening a few feet away. Mary Ellen, the dutiful daughter had slipped her dress and bra off and was kneeling on the floor in front of her dad, sharing dick-sucking duties with her mother who was leaning over in her husband's lap. Occasionally the two stopped for some very intense tongue kisses. I surmised that mother and daughter were close, very close.

Trace, Robbie and their dad were watching the homemade porn on the big screen. Trace had some talent for camera work. He'd done an excellent job of capturing my tongue covered with his spunk. There was a narrow stripe of jism running from my cheek, across my nose and into my eye. The camera showed me using a finger to push the face splatter into my mouth for the big swallow.

That was followed by Trace's filling my mouth with piss and me swallowing several large mouthfuls.

"You two whores aren't worth a shit, let's see what Rozz can do," snapped the General grabbing Lois and Mary Ellen by the hair and lifting them off his cock.

I glanced at Trace who had a "what are waiting for" look on his face. I stood up, reached back to unzip my dress, grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it over my head. The bra and panty were off in a split second. I placed my hands on the General's naked thighs as I knelt down. Lois and Mary Ellen had gotten him hard and from my vantage point had been performing a credible job of head. However, maybe he was just proving a point.

"Trace, Robbie, put your mother and Mary Ellen in the stocks and give them ten each," said the General. "She's been a pain in the ass lately."

"Please Earl, just five," said Lois.

"Since the bitch complained, make that twenty each, maybe later Rozz can teach you how to suck dick," said the General. "We need some new poontang in the family."

I filled my mouth with cock and went to work while behind me I heard the noise of furnishing being moved. Later, when I got a chance for a quick peek, I saw that two whipping stocks had been infolded out of the wall. Lois and Mary Ellen were down on all fours their heads and wrists threaded through the holes in the stocks. Robbie was busy selecting a cane and Trace was working a hand into his mother's cunt.

For all her verbal protests, Lois's body language said she loved to have her ass whipped. She was shifting her butt from side to side as Trace fingers stroked between her labia. He licked one finger and put a digit inside his Mom's anus. Mom moaned. Mary Ellen said something I couldn't here but it must have been a request for some of Trace's handball action because he quickly placed his other hand on Mary Ellen's rear and started massaging her sex.

I'd been in stocks before and it's hot as hell to have your cunt worked when you know the next step is a good ass whipping. You're helpless, wondering how bad it's going to be and then somebody parts those pussy lips and strokes you where it counts. Fingers work their way into your cunt and asshole so you're penetrated and violated by whoever's back there. Maybe it's the fact that you're aware that the moment's pleasure will be replaced by some serious pain and after that, a good fuck. A woman in a stock is truly helpless. She can't even see who is behind her. Her pussy and ass are completely vulnerable. At an S&M club in NYC, I'd put in some stock time and been whipped and fucked into unconsciousness. It was great.

Whoever designed the Donaldson's playroom was a genius. In its vanilla state, it looked like the comfortable home entertainment center of a Weston mansion. All the equipment and furnishings were hidden built-ins. Dark oak cabinets contained high quality implements for causing pain. Wall panels concealed fold out benches, stocks, and crosses. The ceiling contained sliding panels that hid chains, hooks and racks that could be used to suspend a slave. During my time with the Donaldsons, I got to know the capabilities of that room first hand.

My experience of home or even club dungeons was unpainted two by fours where utility not esthetics was the overriding concern. If a whipping bench was upholstered, it was vinyl with cheap brass upholstery tacks. Overall quality was at the level of a decent vocational high school. The Donaldson's furnishing looked like Ethan Allan was marketing an S&M line. Woods were solid, not veneers. Upholstery was either Italian leather or first quality French or Belgium chintz.

It shouldn't matter whether the St. Andrews Cross that you stretched on while someone is whipping the flesh off your tits is made from Second Grade lumber from Home Depot or hand shaped mahogany or cherry but somehow it does.

My original game plan for impressing the Donaldson's was to act like a smart, professional woman with an advanced nursing degree who could be counted on to function like the wife of a future high ranking military officer. My current revised plan as I dove my mouth down on to the General's cock was to convince him I gave terrific head.

I sucked my first dick when I was a ninth grader at Winthrop High School. I was invited to a friend's birthday party and we played a form of oral spin the bottle. There were no adults around. I won or lost the spin depending on how you look at it and had to spend ten minutes in the closet with Clarence Yates, a boy I thought was cute. As soon as the closet door shut, Clarence unzipped his pants, pushed me to my knees and placed his cock against my lips. Given that I had never even kissed Clarence or held hands, it was a little further than I was prepared to go.

"What are you waiting for? Open up," whispered an exasperated Clarence.

"What am I supposed to do?" I answered trying to buy some time. I knew what he wanted. I wasn't stupid just inexperienced.

"Suck it stupid," said Clarence.

"I don't think I should," I said. At thirteen I wasn't a total slut, at least not yet.

"Well fuck I'm leaving. I'm going to tell everybody you're frigid," said Clarence turning toward the door.

"Wait, I'll do it." Like any high school girl I wanted to be popular so I caved. After all he was only asking me to do something I knew I was going to do someday soon Giving blowjobs was a frequent topic of conversation among my girl friends and me. The fact that you couldn't get pregnant made it a no risk situation. Besides, doing what the boys wanted made a girl popular. I blew Clarence, tasted semen for the first time (not bad, not bad at all) got a quick kiss for my efforts and returned to the game when the kitchen timer sounded. Clarence showed he was a gentleman by complimenting me on my cocksucking in front of the others.

I made several more trips to the closet that night and even got a few pointers on technique from an older kid named David something. Over the years, I honed my oral skills, learned to swallow cock for a throat massage from my science teacher, Mr. Kellogg who had a long skinny dick he nicknamed the tonsil tickler, and in general became a first class cock-sucking whore. I was out to prove that to the General as I forced my head downward taking his cock past the opening of my throat.

"All the way to my nuts, bitch," said the general taking me by the ears and forcing me downward. As I've said before, humiliation and degradation are the fuel that strokes my libido. Somehow, I lucked out and found a family just as interested in degrading me as I was in being degraded. I looked up at the general to show him how much I was turned on by what he was doing.

"This one's a real slut, Trace," said the general.

"Use her daddy, face fuck her," said Trace.

Behind me I heard the sound of canes swishing through air. I suppose Trace and Robbie were taking some practice swings limbering up their arms. I heard a, "ready" followed by the swish, the sound one of those flexible cane makes when it lands on bare flesh followed by two loud screams. My mother-in-law was a full-throated screamer but Mary Ellen came out with more of a loud yelp.

"I didn't hear a one so we start over," said Robbie.

After the next impact, both females managed to scream out one. A glance sideways showed me the bottoms of two future female relatives with two bright red stripes across both buttocks. That got me going. Watching others getting whipped is the best aphrodisiac I know. Lois's larger fair skinned ass was in sharp contrast to her daughter's slim well-tanned buttocks.

"You look over there again and I'll have Trace hang you up by your tits and whip the flesh off your ass," warned the General embedding his hand in my hair and twisting my head toward his face. There wasn't any doubt in my mind that he meant it. I concentrated my efforts on the General's cock while behind me, the women counted each blow of the cane.

My mother-in-law was having the shit whipped out of her by her oldest son and Trace was doing the same for his sister. I found it hard to concentrate with all the screams and sobs behind me.

At some point, they halted for a minute and I heard Robbie say, "Denise, get your ass over here. Mother's ready to eat your pussy. Aren't you Mother?"

Lois mumbled a sobbing yes and the whipping resumed. I could hear slurping sounds as Lois's mouth serviced her daughter-in-law's cunt.

"Hand me the DVD remote," said the General allowing me a moment's break to reach over to the other sofa and grab the remote control. I handed it over and dove back to cocksucking.

"General Chernov sent me this last week. That old fuck's been interrogating Chechen POWs. He's got some good ones," said the General. Later I was to learn that the DVD player had a magazine that held five hundred DVDs. Most contained scenes of torture that he had acquired over his career. He had some rare vintage stuff practically dating back to the first cameras. He once made me ride his cock while I watched the Mine Police of the Peabody Coal Company torture the family of a Kentucky union organizer. It was made circa 1928 and transferred to DVD by some collector. It was silent and grainy black and white. Still, you could get off watching the twelve-member family strung up naked in a shed being abused. The young girls were raped and the boys sodomised while the parents watched. The big burly thugs of the Mine Police took their time with the younger children. One of the daughters was pretty so they gang raped her. The initials of the United Mine Workers, UMW, were branded onto both their buttocks and these were deep brandings the kind that left a horrible scar. They used bullwhips on the mother and father; smaller flails on the children. The youngest child looked to be six or eight. The fact that she was still a kid meant nothing to the Mine Police. She got the same abuse as the others. At the end, they castrated the father and the two oldest boys. They covered their wounds with hot tar to stop the bleeding then put the family on a coal train bound for Philadelphia. I guess the struggles to unionize the coalfields were serious business.

The general described it as an important piece of Americana, essential to understanding the history of our country. I had no idea where he got most of his collection and was afraid to ask.

"Ride my cock and watch," said the General pulling me up by the hair. The DVD magazine had found what the general wanted. Over to one side, the whippings had ended. Trace and Robbie were fucking the women. Mary Ellen was servicing Denise's pussy. Her feet were on the top of the stock and you could hear Denise encouraging her.

I had a moment of doubt whether I wanted to marry into this family of incestuous sadists but I quickly suppressed the doubt. I was into the same things they were and fucking my in-laws didn't strike me as beyond my limits.

The screen opened with some weird Russian military march playing in the background. I was sitting astride the General raising and lowering myself as I massaged his nuts. His hands were working my tits hard.

Loud screams drew my attention to the television where two chubby Chechen rebels were hung up by their tits. The girl's feet were six inches off the floor. A wire cable looped around each dark red boob. The girl's hands were handcuffed behind their back. A couple of handsome young Russians were circling the girls. The Russians were stripped to the waist and did not look bad at all. Each Ivan had some sort of electrical wand. When he touched their bare skin, you could see a blue electrical arc and then hear some of the most ungodly screams as the girls kicked and twisted.

"You want to be ass fucked?" asked the General.

"Yes," I replied. I usually wanted to do whatever my partner wants, especially if it was nastier.

The General handed me some lube he got from an end table drawer. Astro-Glide seemed to be the house brand. I lubed both of us up then slipped him past my anal ring. Trace and the others had finished and everyone gathered around to watch me take my father-in-law's cock up the ass. On screen the Russians were still having their fun with the terrorists. They were using butane lighters to burn their armpits and behind their knees. The Chechen's were tough and they certainly could scream. I've never been hung by my boobs and don't intend to start. I've had them bound with sash cord at the base and whipped. It's weird how they balloon out and the veins appear. The DVD provided some arty images of the Chechen's tits in the partial sunlight from the shed's skylight. A future Eisenstein allowed the camera to linger over the bloated breasts before switching to the anguished expressions on their faces. The Russians are prone to convert human suffering to great art.

Ivans hauled the two girls further off the floor using the pulley and attached a net to their ankles. Soldiers loaded ten-kilogram weight plates into the net until each girl was carrying an extra two hundred pounds on their breasts. There was more artsy camera work. You could tell the narrow cable was starting to cut through the skin. Blood was dripping down their abdomen.

The General was watching the screen as I gave him the best ass fucking I knew how. I was squeezing his dick with my gluteus maximus each time I came up, then relaxing on the down stroke to take him up by shit chute as far as he could go. I was also doing a little wiggle when I hit bottom. My hand was working his balls. I was pulling out all the stops for my new father-in-law.

His eyes were fixed to the screen. I later learned that without that type of torture and snuff video stimulation, the General had a hard time getting his rocks off.

There was a loud crash from the screen and one of the Chechens had separated from her tits. She was flopping around on the floor spewing two fountains of blood from her chest. She was already pretty used up and didn't flop long before she was still.

"Watch the bitch die," whispered the General getting his rocks off on the snuff scene. The other Chechen landed on the ground and that put the General in overdrive. He tightened his grip on my boobs repeating in a whisper some Russian phrase. Trace had told me his father spoke several languages.

Finally the General hit the big O splashing his jism deep inside my ass mixing with my shit. I was covered with sweat and my nipples ached from his mauling.

I thought we were done. I took a deep post fuck breath and reveled in the feel of cum dripping out my asshole. That is such a great feeling and I always groove on it. It was almost midnight and I'd had a long day. I turned around to lick the General's cock clean as a finale. I wanted my new father-in-law to like me.

As I was mouth cleaning the General's cock, Robbie spoke.

"You bitches start name training Rozz. Tomorrow if she can't recognize and name the family, we're going to punish all of you. It will not be pleasant."

I had no idea what he was talking about as I was pulled to my feet. Robbie and Trace pulled some wire cables with belted cuffs down from the ceiling and restrained me by my wrists. They adjusted the tension while Mary Ellen and Denise placed a spreader bar between my ankles forcing me into a wide legged stance. In less than a minute, I was strung up. My feet barely touched the floor.

Lois had loaded another DVD and there was a group picture on the big screen. It looked like something you get on a Christmas card, husband, wife, daughter, and son. Everyone looked dressed for church.

"That's the General's brother oldest son, Aaron Donaldson, his wife Emily, daughter Chloe, and son Judd," said Lois.

The screen changed and there was another family. Lois again read the names. Intuitively, I understood I was supposed to be learning the names of their relations. We went through five sets of family pictures then back to the first one.

"Who," said Mary Ellen?

I got three of the four correct so Denise only delivered one blow by the cane on my ass. That one blow wrung a heartfelt scream out of my very soul. I missed most of the rest of the five images and Denise caned me every time I fucked up. We went through it again and I improved but was not perfect. On the third time, I almost got it right. When the first five were good, we moved on to the next five. When I mastered those after being caned numerous times, we did the first ten.

"Put these on her for the next batch, we need to make sure she can function under pressure," said Trace returning from a nearby wall cabinet with a nasty looking set of nipple clamps.

Mary Ellen took my left nipple in her mouth and sucked so hard I wanted to scream. When she had my dug stretched out, Denise grabbed the very end between her nails and pulled it out while Lois let the jaws of the clamp snap shut at the base. I lost control and screamed my head off. That slowed absolutely nobody down. The three women repeated their procedure on my other nipple.

It was the kind of mind numbing pain that gets in your head. The next set of family pictures were displayed in sequence and Denise laid a dark red stripe across my ass every time I made a mistake. I figured my ass was beginning to look like a street map of NYC. I centered myself and focused. I managed to learn them and got through the review with a since mistake.

"Put her on the cunt buster," ordered the General.

Trace retrieved a tall aluminum tube from a hidden closet. It had a square platen on one end and a very nasty looking dildo on the other. It was one of those kinds where the latex had been molded into sharp spikes that covered the surface. I'd seen that kind used before to punish a disobedient slave. A vagina is a sensitive area and having it raked with hard latex spikes hurts.

The positioned the tube under me and worked the dildo inside my vagina while I shrieked in agony. I was begging Trace to stop. That was pointless of course. He knew what I really needed.

The platen was bolted to the floor and the height adjusted. Robbie held me in place by pushing down on my shoulders until it felt like the tip of that dildo was going to come out my navel. I was still resting on the balls of my feet but barely.

"Show her why we call it the cunt buster," suggested the General.

I heard and felt something being drawn back then released. There was a sound of a projectile traveling a short distance in the tube before slamming into the metal base of the dildo. The shock and vibration were transmitted throughout the dildo causing it to move forward a half-inch digging its many spikes further into the lining of my cunt.

I acknowledged the ingenuity of the device by screaming with everything I had then passing out. Amyl nitrate brought me around and the name learning process resumed.

To keep it interesting, Denise switched to a different type of whip and there was a new and exciting type of pain each time I made a memory mistake.

My pain clouded brain struggled to focus. I would lift the five toes of each foot off the floor then set them down one by one. I'd always used that before to maintain my concentration under duress.

The pussy buster was kept cocked so at any moment they could almost instantaneously immerse in pain. It had a pile driver effect. The shock went in waves up my backbone and bounced around in my brain.

Denise and Mary Ellen started caning me back and front when I failed to recognize a member of their clan.

At about 2:00AM, the men got bored with my screams and headed to bed leaving me to Lois, Denise and Mary Ellen. They kept at me until 4:30AM. It was the most prolonged and intense whipping I ever endured. Mary Ellen would masturbate me as a distraction or force a nasty looking dildo up my ass. Denise ass fucked me with a strap on while I named family members. They called that making sure I displayed grace under pressure.

When they finally uncuffed me, I could correctly identify all seventy-eight members of the Donaldsons'extended family. I couldn't walk however and my back and buttocks were on fire. I had to be helped back to Trace and my room.

I slept until noon. I had to dig deep in my stash of painkillers to make it through the day. That's one of the few perks of being a nurse.

I guess that my capacity to learn under pressure impressed the Donaldsons. The General and Lois presented me with a pair of stunning diamond earrings to wear to the party. Mary Ellen told me how pleased she was with me as a sister. She and I helped each other apply body makeup to cover last night's bruises and scrapes.

That night at the country club I was able to correctly greet and name almost all the guests. In fact, according to Lois, I didn't miss a one of the seventy-six I'd been trained on. The engagement party was very elegant.

So when approaching the wake Mary Ellen warned me about not forgetting family members, my mind flashed back to that night and I pictured each of those photos clearly in my mind.


Review This Story || Author: Harry Berg
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