Fitness Freak Ordeal

 

Chapter 01  Waking To Rape

 

“I had a very normal reaction when the drug wore off and I woke up with a stranger on top of me pounding away.  I started screaming my head off.  His reaction was normal, too.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” said Oscar delivering an open palm slap to my face stunning me.

The whole side of my head went numb and I tasted blood in my mouth.  I inhaled to resume screaming, causing Oscar to draw his fist back threatening me.  “You don’t shut up; I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.”

In spite of the drug hangover resulting in a pounding headache, my survival instincts kicked in and I closed my mouth and was quiet as I observed he was black, heavily muscled and covered in skin art, the kind you get in prison.  He was also well endowed and giving me a good railing.  At the moment, he was pulling all the way out then slamming it home.  His cock head was bouncing off my cervix causing me to grunt in pain on every stroke.

Looking back, it was all a rape should be.

Sensing that I now understood who was in charge, Oscar issued another order.  “Wrap your legs around me and give me a good fuck or I’ll break your face.”

I momentarily considered telling him to go fuck himself but decided that might cost me my incisors.  He was already inside me so what was the point of being defiant.  My arms were tied to the headboard but my legs were free so I wrapped them around his waist and squeezed then began pulling him into me.  “Don’t hurt me.  I’ll do anything you want.”  I’m anything but brave.

“She’s your bitch, now, Oscar,” said a man standing by the bed.  I hadn’t noticed him until he spoke.  When I turned in his direction, I saw a well built blonde man slowly stroking his semi-hard cock.  He was naked except for white socks.  He looked to be in his twenties and the arm I could see was covered with tattoos.  When he saw me looking, he pointed his cock in my direction and stroked faster as he informed me of his place in line.  “I’m next bitch.  I’m going to split you wide open.”

“Hurry up, Oscar, I want a piece before Sergei arrives,” said a voice past the standing man. When I turned my head as far as it would go, I saw two more men seated at a table.  There was a six pack of beer on the table and they were both drinking.  The term, gang rape, popped into my head along with the realization that I had purchased that six pack.  I had been coming out of the market when they grabbed me and stuck a needle in my arm.  I went out almost immediately.

“He won’t be here until after dark, Mel.  You can screw her until your dick falls off,” said Oscar as he ground his pubic bone against my clit causing me to moan.

Rape was new to me.  I’d been pressured several times to put out when I was in the service; but I didn’t call that rape.  It was sexual harassment not that I made any formal complaints.  Since your technical sergeant can make your life pure hell, it’s better to give him what he wants and forget it.  Mine were actually nice guys who were horny and away from home like me.  So when they told me what they expected, I shouted, “Yes Sir, Technical Sergeant and fell to my knees.”

That was in a combat zone and the rules are different.  When you’re worried about an insurgent sniper blowing the top of your head off, giving head is not all that important.  Plus the sex was relaxing and got my mind off the fucking war.

“Bitch loves your cock, Oscar.  Make her moan again,” said the blonde now fully erect.

Oscar pushed hard against my love button and twisted his hips as he let out a whoop.  Anxious to please, I screamed, “Oh fuck yes,” as he got ready to pump his load in my vagina.  I had already checked.  It was bare back.

According to my late husband, I’m a noisy excitable lover with a tendency to talk dirty.  I moaned and groaned in response to the pressure before whispering, “Fuck that pussy.  Fuck it hard.”  That must have excited Oscar because he doubled his pace.

“All most there, keep pumping,” said Oscar raising up to cradle my knee pits in his elbows.  He started pounding away forcing me to grunt each time he slammed it home.  My ankles locked around his waist pulling him into me as my hands grasped his buttocks.   I was on autopilot hoping a good fuck would keep me alive or at least delay my death.

“We lucked out guys. Stupid cunt likes to be raped,” said Billy moving closer to the bed.  I could see the excitement and lust in his eyes.

I’d never been raped before.  I’d been to several classes about how to defend against a rapist.  You were supposed to fight back, scream for help, and get in touch with your violent self.  Kicking them in the balls was taught and practiced on a well padded instructor.  All that seemed irrelevant.  There were four of them and they were young, strong and armed with semi-automatics.   I was more interested in staying alive than saving my honor.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts.  My immediate situation was dire to say the least.  I was tied to a dirty bed in what appeared to be an abandoned industrial building.  The light slanting through the windows indicated it was mid afternoon.  A black man with a shaved head and a ripped physique was raping me.  Three other men, one back and two white, were waiting their turn.

The odd thought popped into my head that I could get pregnant.  My late husband, Dan, and I had been trying to have a baby for the last three months, so I was off the pill.  He had died in a boating accident two weeks ago.  At least they called it an accident when it first happened.  Since it was our boat and I knew Dan was on it when it exploded, I assumed he was dead.

But the other day, two FBI agents dropped by to tell me they had found traces of military grade explosives on the wreckage.  They also said they’d found DNA evidence from three different men none of whom were Dan.  They were still looking for DNA evidence to prove he was among the deceased.

For some reason, I suspected there was a relationship between Dan’s death and what was happening to me.  The fact that the FBI was involved seemed wrong for a local boating accident.  But no one was telling me shit so I was left to speculate.

A second scarier possibility came to mind.  I wasn’t blindfolded.  I could identify Oscar and the others so I was a potential witness.   I’d watched enough cop shows on TV to know there was a good possibility I was going to end up with a bullet in my head after they finished.

Oscar interrupted my train of thought by covering my mouth with his.  When his tongue slipped inside, I intertwined it with mine.  It wasn’t passion.  I was scared shitless.  I hugged him to me as I whispered, “Fill my pussy with your hot come, motherfucker.”

A half dozen pounding thrusts ending in a loud male gasp and my vagina was filled for the first time in years with semen other than my Dan’s.  Oscar rolled off me breathing hard.  I was covered in his sweat.

“How was she?” asked one of the men at the table.

“Pussy’s pussy,” said Oscar slowing getting up.  He picked up something off the floor that turned out to be my skirt and wiped his cock dry before leaving the room to, in his words, take a much needed piss.

“Anyone have any condoms?” asked the blonde man sitting down on the edge of the small bed and placing his hand on my breast and squeezing.

“What the fuck you need a condom for, Billy?” asked one of the seated men.  “You think a housewife from the burbs is going to give you the clap?”

“More likely, Billy gives it to her,” said the other man causing both to laugh.

“We’re the ones who should be using condoms after you’ve fucked her pussy,” said the other.

“I guess I don’t need it,” said Billy climbing on top of me straddling my chest.

“Suck it, slut,” said Billy placing his cock against my lips.

Performing fellatio on your back with your arms tied over your head doesn’t work.  It required I hold my head up straining my neck causing me to frequently rest my head on the bed.

“Untie me,” I pleaded.

“Think Oscar would mind if I untied her, Mel,” asked Billy reacting to the unsatisfactory result.  “I need a regular BJ.”

“Don’t see why.  She can’t very well run off,” said Mel the other black man.

Minutes later, I was kneeling beside the bed, thankful the blood was flowing back into my arms.  Billy was lying across it with his legs spread and I was performing fellatio.  I pushed aside all the thoughts about how humiliating this was and how degraded I felt.  It wasn’t the cleanest and most pleasant smelling cock I’d ever put in my mouth.

“Play my Rusty Trombone,” said Bill reaching for his calves to pull his legs toward his chest.  As it turned out, I go to practice my trombone playing a lot that afternoon.

When he raised his legs to give me access to his asshole, the smell of dried shit caused a wave of nausea to sweep over me.  But I was out of options, so I ordered my stomach to calm down while I stroked his cock and licked the shit off his asshole.

“Eat my ass, bitch, lick it clean,” said Billy and I did.   These guys were serious mother fuckers and licking their shit holes clean was better than getting a bullet in the brain.

It was the kind of dirty sex common when I was in the service.  But that was year’s ago.  Dan was a fastidiously clean person who wouldn’t have dreamed of asking me to put my mouth on his butt unless it sparkled.  But pleasing Billy was the only option I had.  The two sitting at the table were wearing lethal semi automatic pistols in shoulder holsters.  I didn’t think shooting me would cause them to lose any sleep.

I rimmed his butt until it shone then switched back to sucking his cock.    Applying experience gained since middle school, I massaged his testicles and stroked the shaft while my mouth engulfed the top third.  My tongue and lips were very busy.  I made be a suburban housewife but I know how to suck a cock.

“What’s your name, bitch?” asked Billy.

“Marlene, but I go by Marnie,” I said taking his cock out of mouth to talk.

“How old are you?” asked Billy.

“Thirty one,” I answered.  My purse was lying on the table and my billfold was open.  They’d seen my driver’s license.  Maybe Billy had short term memory problems.

“You going to ask her for a date or get your cock sucked,” asked Mel who had left the table for a closer view.

“You got a nice pair on you, Marnie,” said Mel reaching both arms over my shoulder to squeeze my breasts.

“On the bed Marnie, for doggie style,” said Billy sitting up.  He was rock hard and ready for phase two.

I groaned as Billy’s cock slid in my vagina.  He was also well-endowed.  I was on my knees and elbows facing the top of the bed.

“Hear that, she loves my dick,” said Billy.

“Here, honey, show me how much you love mine,” said Mel who was now standing at the head of the bed offering his black cock to my mouth.

My last double penetration was at Camp Balad outside Baghdad when my unit finally got orders to return to LeJeune.  They’d extended our stay twice.  Someone came up with several gallons of home brew to get the party started.  I wound up along with the other females soldiers getting plowed in all three orifices at the same time.

As a civilian and Dan’s wife, I had been strictly monogamous and faithful, no threesomes.

I moved slightly forward to take Mel’s fat uncircumcised penis in my mouth.

I heard the sound of someone expectorating and felt the slimy liquid land on my butt.  Billy’s finger smeared it over my sphincter then pushed inside none too gently.  Dan occasionally stuck his finger in my ass while he ate me or fucked me from the rear but he was my husband and gentle about it.

I ignored the pain, concentrating on sucking Mel and fucking Billy.  Billy didn’t last long.  His hands gripped my flanks creating leverage to slam into me so hard I felt like screaming.  As he came, he wedged a second finger in my ass causing me to gasp with pain.  Seconds later, his sweat covered body collapsed across my back pressing me into the filthy mattress.

“Lay on your back with your head hanging down,” said Stan, the fourth guy, who along with Mel turned out to be the sadists of the four.

I wasn’t sure what Stan wanted so I hesitated a moment.  He turned out to be the impatient type.

“This way, cunt,” said Stan grabbing my blonde hair to yank me painfully in position.

“Start with a little tea bagging,” said Stan lowering his hairy balls to my mouth.

Familiar with the term, I took one of his testicles in my mouth and gently sucked it.  Mel appeared beside Stan.  He reached down to grab one of my nipples between two fingers.  He was a big strong guy and it hurt like hell when he flattened it then dug his nails in the soft flesh.

When I opened my mouth to protest, Stan rammed his cock down my throat, choking me.  They took turns fucking my throat and torturing my breasts until I was in agony.  Somehow in spite of the pain, I stayed in control until first Stan and then Mel ejaculated down my gullet.

Oscar gave me a bottle of water to drink as laid down on the bed with his legs spread indicating fellatio was expected.  Feeling dehydrated, I took several swallows before getting into position.  I began by teasing his piss hole with the tip of my tongue.

“Play my Rusty Trombone,” said Oscar reaching up to grab his insteps.  He pulled his legs back over his head giving me access to his sphincter.  My spit covered hand worked his shaft while my tongue windshield wiped his none too clean anus.  It was the kind of nasty pig sex a woman only does on three occasions: (1) wedding, (2) drunk out of her mind, (3) being raped.

Maybe knowing my background will help explain why I wasn’t acting like a screaming, terrified female experiencing her first brutal gang rape.

I was born outside of St. Paul, Minnesota of good Norwegian stock from whom I inherited my 5’11” height, fair complexion, and straw blonde hair.  Mother taught elementary school while Dad struggled with a small dairy farm.  Opportunities were scare when I finished high school so I joined the US Marines on my nineteen birthday.  During my six years in the Corps, I served two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan.

I came out with enough cash and credits to spend my next three years getting a business degree at University of Minnesota Duluth.  I got a job at a local paper mill after I graduated.

A friend persuaded me to join her in trying an online match making service, the kind where you answer a thousand questions to guarantee you’ll meet Mr. Right.  Most of the guys weren’t even close to Mr. Good Enough.  But one of them was Daniel Wagner and he was Mr. Perfect as far as I was concerned.

Dan was once divorced, eight years my senior, and the owner of Metals Recovery (MR Inc), a business he started right out of college.   MR Inc purchased high value scrap which it melted down for the precious metals used in its manufacture.  For example, there is a tiny amount of gold in personal computer logic boards.

Dan was good looking and charming and I fell in love with him.  We dated for three months before we got engaged.  We had a small wedding mostly with my relatives.  Dan’s parents died while he was in grade school.  He was raised by a succession of foster parents.  He had no living relatives I was aware of.

MR Inc was profitable enough we could afford a nice home on Lake Superior and a forty foot boat where Dan could pursue his love of fishing.  I quit work to take care of the house and concentrate on having a family.  Dan traveled frequently on business so I had time to pursue my hobby which is fitness.  I finished in the top five the last three years in the Mrs. Fitness USA finals in Las Vegas.

The point I’m trying to make is that six years in the service and experiencing combat made me tougher than most mentally; and fitness competitions have kept me in shape to endure physically.

Chapter 02 – Sergei Arrives

 

“You assholes should be paying me for this job,” said the small-in-stature, dirty-blonde man who showed up while Billy was performing anal intercourse on my sore butt hole.  He was fucking me with maximum brutality and I was whimpering in pain.

I’d been doing all right with anal until Mel decided to demonstrate for his peers that with the aid of a can of vegetable shortening found in my grocery bag he could fit his hand inside my rectum.

While Stan held me down, Mel packed my holes with shortening then proved to the disbelieving onlookers that his hand would fit in my vagina and his arm in my asshole.  I shrieked my misery as Mel’s fist stretched my rectum as he penetrated me to his elbow.  I could feel his fingers wiggling deep inside my colon.

“Packing her shit,” was the phrase he used to describe what he was doing.  I was certain he was going to rupture an internal organ and I would bleed to death.  Somehow that didn’t happen.  When he finished, my rear was covered in shortening and shit.

Mel took the time to run his feces covered finger over my upper lip giving me something he called a Dirty Sanchez.  I don’t think of myself as a super fastidious person but having a layer of shit painted below your nostrils is beyond disgusting.

Billy used my cashmere sweater to wipe me off before he mounted my rear.  “I don’t want your caca on my dick.”

Billy was the youngest and the one with the most staying power.  He positioned me face down with my knees under my hips and my face shoved into the filthy mattress.  He was on his feet, crouched over me, fucking straight down into my bowels. I moaned with pain after each thrust.  As he descended, he landed an old palm bitch slap on my flank that stung like hell.  My body was bruised the color of a grape the next day.

It was dark outside so my gang rape was approaching five hours.  They’d taken one short break to play cards and drink the rest of my beer.  I’d been slapped silly, penetrated in all three orifices, forced to swallow several loads of semen, and made to play Stan’s disgustingly nasty Rusty Trombone.  In Stan’s words, I was a shit licking slut who didn’t mind recycling.

Gang rape brings out the worst in men.   It unleashes their competitive and violent nature.  The more pain they cause you the better the rape.  I didn’t know how many times I’d been ravished.  They kept trying to out perform one another.   One of their tricks was to push my face cheek out with the head of their cock then slap that side of my face transmitting the force of the blow down through their cock head to their balls.  For reasons that were beyond me, they considered it funny as hell.  My face ached when they were done.

At some point, they gather around me for a gag the whore session.  Each one held me by the hair, ordering me to open my mouth wide so they could force their cock down my throat.  My choking and spewing drool was another cause for great amusement.  I was rotated among the four until I was a total mess.  They finished by pumping their loads into my open mouth after which they added their spit.  I’d been in some pretty wild scenes in college and the Marines but I didn’t recall anyone spiting in my mouth.

All three orifices had been violated repeatedly.  The four men were young and seemed insatiable.  I was used to my thirty eight year old husband who fell sound asleep after doing me once.

Sergei spoke with a thick accent.  I assumed he was Russian or Ukrainian or any one of the ethnic groups populating that part of the world.  Later I learned he was a member of the Chechnyan mafia.

“Just need a minute, boss,” said Billy increasing the pace by which he was driving his manhood into my rubbed-raw bowels.

Sergei stood close beside the bed.  He lit a cigarette causing me to worry about the health effects of second hand smoke.  I realize how stupid that was.  There was ever possibility I wasn’t going to survive the day let alone live long enough to die of lung cancer.

I figured Sergei was going to be my next rapist but as it turned out I was wrong.  It would have been less painful if he had.

“Look boss, see how it her butt stays open,” said Billy withdrawing his cock.  “You can spit straight down her shitter.”  That was followed by the sound of expectoration and the feeling of sputum slowly sliding down my bowel. How absolutely humiliating!

“Very nice, Billy, your mother would be proud.  Now hurry and finish, I have some questions for Mrs. Wagner,” said Sergei before patting him and me on the shoulders and moving away.

I watched as Sergei removed his suit coat and tie then his cuff links and placed them neatly on a nearby chair.  My husband Dan wore cuff links to the office.  I’d given him a very expensive pair for our second anniversary.  Those kinds of odd thoughts kept passing through my mind as Billy’s groin slapped hard against my bottom.  He picked up the pace, grabbing my hair to use as leverage.  The tendons in my neck strained as he bent my head backward.  All off a sudden, he was done.  His semen joined his spit deep in my intestines.

After Billy finished, they left me alone for a while.  The five sat at the table and spoke in whispers, occasionally glancing in my direction.

I was sore and completely exhausted.  I’m not sure I could have moved if the bed was on fire.  I curled up in the fetal position expecting the worst.  Emotionally, I was still grieving over Dan.

It may sound stupid but up till that point I hadn’t thought about why I was there.  I’d just assumed four thugs had grabbed me for an afternoon of rape or as they would call it, fun.  Mall parking lots are hunting grounds for sexual predators.  I hadn’t noticed the van parked alongside my car.  When I opened the Mercedes trunk to load the groceries I heard the van door slide open.  In an instant I was hauled in the van with a hand clamped over my mouth.  I felt a sting in my bicep and it was lights out.  The odd thing was that they stole my groceries so in addition to rape sex I provided lunch.

I’d just assumed they decided to snatch a housewife and put a train on her when I happened by.  I’d read there were gangs around the city that considered it a form of social protest to kidnap females with nice cars and clothes as a way of getting even for not getting the breaks afforded their bettors.

I had some hope that after they had fucked the shit out of me, they would let me go after threatening death to my family if I contacted the authorities.  As it turned out, I was partially correct.

But with the arrival of Sergei, it dawned on stupid me that I wasn’t selected at random.  I was about to learn the real reason.

My speculation was interrupted by the breakup of their meeting.  Without a word of explanation, they rolled a beat up desk chair to the side of the bed and sat me in it.  They taped my wrists to the chair arms and my ankles to the base of the chair.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked repeatedly as Oscar held me so Mel could wrap tape around my midsection and the chair back.   I was immobilized when they finished.

The four stepped back to allow Sergei to roll another desk chair to where it faced me.  Sergei sat two pieces of luggage on the floor beside his chair.  One was an oversized brief case and the other a long black tube, the type used to carry rolled up blue prints.  It didn’t contain blue prints but I wish it had.

Sergei took his seat and immediately asked, “Where are your husband and my money, Mrs. Wagner?”

“My husband is dead.  He was killed in a boat explosion two weeks ago.  I have no idea what money you are talking about,” I said.

“Dan Wagner is not dead.  His two partners are dead along with my brother,” said Sergei.

As far as I knew, Dan was the sole owner of MR Inc.  There were no partners.  “The FBI thinks he’s dead.  They’re running DNA tests to prove it,” I said.

“Trust me, Mrs. Wagner, the FBI knows that your husband is not dead,” said Sergei.  “Now, where is my twenty million dollars?”

Twenty million dollars was out of our league.  Dan was doing well and we had a nice life but there was no way we had that kind of money.  “That’s crazy.  We don’t have twenty million or even one million.”

“Bring that table over, Billy.  It looks to be the right height,” ordered Sergei pointing to a small wooden table on the other side of the room.

The right height meant you could roll my chair up to the table.  Mel and Oscar ran strips of tape along the back of the chair to the table legs binding me tightly against the table top.  It pressed hard against my ribs.  My boobs were resting on the table.

“I was hoping you would be more cooperative but of course as a former Marine, you have to show us how tough you are,” said Sergei opening his briefcase.

I wondered how he knew I was in the Marines.  Semper Fi wasn’t tattooed on my shoulder.  As it turned out, he knew almost everything about me.

“That’s got nothing to do with it.  I don’t know anything about your money,” I said.

“You and your husband were avid fishermen so I’m sure you’ll recognize these,” said Sergei holding two very large fishhooks in one hand.  The other held a pair of needle nose pliers.

I’d taken up fishing to be with my husband although I hadn’t gone on the last trip.  He told me it was a guy’s only fishing party and he’d invited some business associates.

I stared at the oversized hooks.  They were far too large for the lake fish we caught.  That was when things got really painful.  Sergei captured my left nipple in the pliers and pulled.  I reacted by screaming for him to stop.  He did but only after he forced the hook through the top of my areola and out the bottom.  That hurt. And it hurt just as much as when he did the right nipple.  When he finished, I was left gasping for breath, fighting to control the pain.

“Too bad, you have beautiful breasts.  Doesn’t she, fellows?” asked Sergei as he removed two elastic cables form his briefcase, the kind used to secure skis to the luggage rack of an SUV.

They all nodded agreement as Serge unwound the cables.  I do have terrific boobs and I usually show a little cleavage.  What’s the point of hiding your assets?  Every night I moisturize them with a non-alcohol lotion.   I have a tanning bed at home so I don’t have any tan lines.  Dan was crazy about my breasts and he liked to hold one when we slept spooned.  But Sergei and his cohorts were about to make me wish I’d had them chopped off.

“She likes her nipples sucked,” said Stan who had made a point of biting them while we fucked.  Stan was the kind of lover who believed good sex required the female to scream and beg.

I watched terrified as Sergei hooked one end of the bungee chords into the hook eye then stretched it across the table to catch on the edge before letting go.  The elastic snapped taut causing me to cry out.  It felt like my boob was being ripped off my chest.  Sergei ignored my loud howls and stretched my other boob.

When I looked down through pain clouded eyes, I could see my breasts had became long and flat as the elastic pulled them away from my chest. The hooks were pulling a hole into the tissue and my blood was dripping onto the tabletop.

“Where is the money?” repeated Sergei as I fought to control the pain.

“I don’t know anything about money,” I screamed.

“That is so fucking cool,” said Billy reaching down to pluck the elastic cable like a guitar string.  “It’s a tittie guitar.”

I screamed as the pain radiated back into my chest.  Billy’s voice reflected the excitement perverts feel at others pain.  The sick bastard had a hard on.

“I’ve got to get a set of these for my girlfriend,” said Stan pulling the cables and letting them go.

The vibration was incredibly painful.  It radiated up to the pain center in my brain and stayed.

“We Chechens learned this from the Russians.  They did it to the women they captured, even my sister, Natasha.  She had beautiful breasts before they cut them off.  Billy, since you find Mrs. Wagner’s predicament so appealing, you can start,” said Sergei opening the end of the blueprint case and removing a handful of flexible bamboo canes.  He handed one to Billy then rolled his chair back to give Billy a clear shot.

“Thanks Sergei,” said Billy taking the cane and whipping the air, making a whirring noise.

“Last chance, Mrs. Wagner,” said Sergei.

“If I knew I would tell you,” I said.

Sergei signaled Billy and the cane landed on top of my breasts with a loud whap or was it a snap.  The Afghanis used to say that as far as torture was concerned we Americans were real pussies compared to the Russians.  I recall an old mujahadeen showing me what was left of his testicles after the Soviets burned them off with a blow torch. I screamed until I was out of breath then inhaled so I could scream some more.

Sergei waited until I calmed down to speak.  “If you don’t tell me about the money, Billy will give you ten of his best without stopping.”

My breasts were on fire.  A red whelp was visible across the top. All I could manage was, “I don’t know.”  I was desperately trying to think of something else to say.  I would have lied to stop the pain but I couldn’t think of anything that would sound remotely believable.

I passed out after eight.  They woke me up by pouring a bottle of cold water over my head.  Mel took a fresh cane out of the case and did the honors this time.  I only made it to seven before blackness overcame me.

“My turn,” said Stan.  “Try to stay awake this time.  It’s no fun if you faint.”

At nine, I started begging them to kill me.  It was that painful.

“I’m beginning to believe you,” said Sergei after they revived me for the fourth time and repeated his question.  Oscar, the biggest and strongest of the four had just finished.  My breasts were in unbearable agony.  They were covered in raised welts.  The skin was broken in a dozen places.  My chest was splattered with drops of my blood.

“Still, you may know something,” said Sergei taking two lengths of surgical tubing out of his briefcase.  He fitted one piece around the base of my breast, pulled it very tight and tied it off.  Then he did the other.

They’re 34C so there were plenty of boobs to tie off.  They started to swell immediately.  Veins and arteries became visible as they turned a dark red.  Blood oozed out of the cuts.  The effect of the ligatures combined with the caning caused the pain to grow unbearable in minutes.

“How about a little sea salt,” asked Sergei reaching into his brief case for a salt shaker he must have stolen from a dinner?  He sprinkled the white crystals on my breasts then rubbed them into the cuts.

I read romance novels.  The kind referred to as bodice rippers.  They’re filled with sex and violence and the heroine gets her share of rape and torture.  From one of my favorites by Barbara Cartland, I recalled the pirates rubbed salt into the cuts left by the lash on the heroine’s creamy breasts.  The heroine fainted but I went nuts.   I thrashed and screamed against my bonds, attempting to knock my head against the chair.

My audience thought it was funny as hell.

“Just when you think, it couldn’t get any worse, you find it does.  Five more, Billy,” said Sergei.

I don’t know that much about torture.  In Iraq, we strapped suspected terrorists to an old door and then pushed them down in a tub of water.  A couple of dunkings and they were eager to tell us what we wanted to know.  But waterboarding was nothing compared to what I was experiencing.

I tried to pass out when the first blow landed on my boobs.  The flesh was so tight it felt like a balloon ready to burst.  Luck was not with me and I was still conscious when the fifth blow landed.   I managed to croak, “I don’t know. Please stop” when Sergei repeated his question.

I passed out when they released me.  They dropped me back on the bed while they conferenced again.   A bottle of ice cold water brought me awake.

“Are you alert?  Do you understand me, Mrs. Wagner?” asked Sergei holding me by the hair.

“Yes,” I muttered.  “Please, I’ll do anything you want.  Don’t hurt me anymore.”

Sergei held up a picture for me to see.  “Recognize them?”

The pain in my breasts was so bad I could barely see.  I had to concentrate to focus my eyes.  It was my sister Kathy and her two children getting into her mini-van in front of a school.  “Yes, my sister, with Jason and Janet.”

“They live at 224 Wheeler Court in Richmond, Virginia,” said Sergei holding up a second picture.  “And this one?”

“My mother,” I said.

“Yes, she lives at Heritage Assisted Living on South Meadow Street in St. Paul.  If you go to the police or the FBI, we will kill these people and it will be done in a very unpleasant fashion.  Your niece is how old?”

I may not know where his twenty million was but I did know that one.  “Janet’s ten.”

“The man who kills her will be a psychotic pedophile who will take his time, perhaps as much as a month.  She will suffer horribly and it will be your fault.  Do you understand me?”

I said, “Yes I won’t tell anyone,” and I meant it.

“I’ve decided to make you a proposition.  Are you listening?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You have one month to accomplish either of two outcomes.”

“Yes, two outcomes,” I repeated eager to demonstrate how cooperative I was.

“Either is acceptable but if neither is performed, you will be killed.  If you try to run, then you are signing the death warrants for your mother and your sister and her children,” said Sergei repeating the threat.

I was determined to say whatever he wanted.  “Understood, I won’t run.  What do I have to do?”

“Either find and kill your husband or return our twenty million, preferably both.  Return of the money will earn you a ten percent finder’s fee.  It is a very fair arrangement,” said Sergei.

“I don’t know where to look,” I said.

“Yes, well no one said it would be easy,” said Sergei.  “I suggest you try very hard since your life depends on it.”

Chapter 3   FBI

 

The doorbell rang right after I’d gotten in the shower.  I’d spent the day at MR Inc. learning a business that had become my responsibility overnight.  Operations wise, Gordon Morrison, my husband’s plant manager, appeared to have everything under control.  He assured me they had enough work in the pipeline to keep the place going for at least six months maybe longer.  I agreed with his suggestion we hire a salesman to fill my husband’s role and find future business.

With Dan dead, I owned MR Inc. and it was in my interest to keep it functioning and profitable until I figured out what to do with it.  I asked Gordon if Dan had mentioned working on any big accounts.  Gordon should know if there was something huge in the works.

“Only one, he said things were looking good for a contract reclaiming cell phones,” said Gordon.

“How much was involved?” I asked.

“Little over a million for a two year contract,” said Gordon.

That was long way from the twenty million, Sergei was expecting me to find.

I spent the rest of the day meticulously searching Dan’s office for anything that might tell me where he was or why Sergei thought he had such a large sum of money.  I didn’t find anything and going through his desk and personal stuff depressed me.

Being around the recovery furnaces made me feel gritty; so as soon as I got home, I stripped down for a shower.  I took a moment to examine my body in the mirror.  I was healing up nicely.  It had been four days since Sergei and his goons had worked on me.  The first day I could barely move I hurt so badly.

After that I credit my physical conditioning and the frequent application of a Vitamin E cream with rapid healing.  My boobs were almost back to normal.  Even the holes made by the fishhooks had healed over and there was only a small scab.

I was also getting back to normal mentally.  Last night was the first I had slept through without waking up covered in sweat dreaming that Oscar, Billy, Stan, Mel or a combination of all four was raping me or applying a cane to my boobs.

I’ll never look at bamboo in quite the same way.  I looked it on the WEB and learned it can grow fourteen inches in a day.  Chinese emperors used to execute their enemies by suspending them over a bed of bamboo shoots and watching it grow through their bodies.  Rape and torture doesn’t leave you with happy thoughts.

I’d just shampooed my hair when I heard the front door bell ring.  “Christ, who the hell could that be?” I muttered.  Then I recalled that my next door neighbor and best friend, Jill Fraser, had emailed me that she had something important she needed to show me when I got home.  I rinsed the soap out of my hair, wrapped it in a towel, and threw on a terry cloth robe.

“But it wasn’t Jill.  It was the pair of FBI agents who had shown up after Dan died to tell me they couldn’t find his DNA floating in the wreckage.  At the time, they’d struck me as not what I’d expected from the FBI.  Of course, my expectations were built on television and Hollywood images.

I’d never actually met anyone from the FBI so I didn’t worry about the fact that Agent Larry Tyson was very tall, slender, and extremely handsome.  He had large hands with long tapered fingers that totally wrapped my hand when he shook it.

His partner, Alice Magnuson, in contrast, was short, squat, and pleasant looking.  My dad would say Alice was, “built like a fire plug.” I was being kind about Agent Magnuson.  She was plain but that didn’t keep her from wearing a short straight skirt that exposed her thunder thighs.

Most women learn to hide their defects and expose their assets.   Agent Magnuson’s mid thigh hem revealed enough cellulite to fill up a dozen liposuction collection bottles.

One other odd thing was that the pair was not from the Minneapolis-St Paul office but had flown in from Washington DC.  At the time, I was still too upset about Dan’s death to pay much attention to these anomalies.    I had asked them why the FBI was involved in a local boating accident and they had given me some bullshit about Lake Superior being an international waterway between the US and Canada.

My second meeting with the FBI started off politely.  “Mrs. Wagner, can we come inside and talk,” asked Agent Tyson who had the kind of face and build that made you wonder why he wasn’t in Hollywood working for Spielberg?  The not so well favored Agent Magnuson had on a skirt shorter than the one I recalled from last time.  I was amazed no management female in the FBI hierarchy had not taken her aside and suggested a pantsuit would be more appropriate and flattering.

“Certainly, but give me a few minutes to dry my hair.  I opened the door and stood aside.  I was considering telling them about Sergei, my gang rape, and torture but decided to hold off.   That turned out to be wise.

I offered them water or soda then parked them in the living room before I rushed back to the bathroom and my blow dryer. I was seated at my dressing table wielding dryer and brush when the door popped open and Agent Magnuson appeared.

Given there was a guest bath right off the living room and I was in the large bath that was part of the master bedroom suite located at the other end of the house, her appearance made no sense whatsoever?

I was about to object when she marched across the room toward the small toilet closet.  On her way, she spied the bidet and halted in her tracks.  The bidet had been Dan’s idea.  He’d worked overseas and considered them more hygienic than toilet paper.  It took me a while to get used to it but I adapted after a while and didn’t think twice of using it.

“I always wanted to try one of those things.  What are they called?” asked Agent Magnuson pointing toward the porcelain bowl.

“It’s a bidet.  Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the guest bath?  It’s in the hallway to the left outside the living room,” I said.

She completely ignored my suggestion.  “It’s French. It washes your pussy after you take a whiz.”

The way she phrased her remark surprised me; perhaps working with criminals led you to talk like one.  The next few happenings left me with my mouth hanging open in amazement.  She didn’t wait for an answer.  She turned around and backed up to the bidet like it was a toilet as she grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled.

“No, turn around,” I said realizing she’d pee all over the floor.

“Show me,” said Agent Magnuson.

“I’d rather not,” I said.

“Don’t be shy.  It’s just us girls and I want to learn,” said Agent Magnuson, a combination of disappointment tinged with threat creeping into her voice.

I wasn’t shy.  I was a Marine, who’d squatted and pissed by the side of the road with a company of trained killers looking on.  Still, that was a life time ago.  I decided on the spot that Agent Magnuson was eccentric and it was best to humor her since she had a semiautomatic pistol on her hip.

I stood up, took off my robe and straddled the bidet facing the wall.  I lowered my body and took a deep breath as I wondered if being partially insane was a requirement for joining the FBI.

“You got an incredible body.  I need to lose a few pounds and firm up,” said Agent Magnuson standing close by.

A lot of women can’t pee in public.  Fortunately, I’m not one of them.  As I let go, Agent Magnuson chose to comment.  “You don’t sit on it.  You squat like you were in an alley or a filthy crapper.”

I suppose there were times when Agent Magnuson was chasing some criminal and facilities were not available.  When I finished, I turned the knob that directed the spray onto my vulva.

“So that’s how you wash your pussy,” said Agent Magnuson standing close by me and peering down at my sex.

At that moment, things got weirder.

“What are you girls up to,” asked Agent Tyson?

Since my back was to the open door I had no idea how long he’d been there.  I was shocked he had wandered in while I was urinating.  Adding to my amazement was that he was holding a half eaten sandwich he made in my kitchen.  Agent Magnuson was quick to answer.

“Marnie was showing me how to use her fancy French pisser.  I’m next. Come watch,” said Agent Magnuson.

Crime shows on television portray the relationship of partners in law enforcement as unusually close.  But did Sonny invite Tubbs to watch him urinate?  Was Starsky unable to move his bowels unless his buddy Hutch was holding his hand?  Their behavior struck me as over the top and who wants that from armed FBI agents.

Agent Tyson casually walked across the bathroom to observe more closely.  He took a bite of his sandwich as he peered down into the bidet and commented, “This girl I used to date had one of those; but I never saw her use it.”

I stood transfixed as Agent Magnuson with considerable effort tugged her skirt up to her waist.  She wasn’t wearing any underpants.  Her pudendum was shaved and there was an elaborate tattoo on her groin area.  Her labia were pierced with a trio of large gold rings and there was a smaller ring in her clit.  With some difficulty, she straddled the bidet and after a second or two began to pee.  It was noisy and it lasted a long time.

“I really had to go,” said Agent Magnuson reaching to turn on the water.   When the stray landed on her sex, she let out a low cow like moan before commenting, “I could get off on this.”

It was a scene out of an asylum.  I was standing there stark naked with damp hair.  Agent Tyson was eating a ham and cheese on rye with mayo while watching his partner wash the pee off her pussy.  Agent Magnuson, her eyes closed, was using the flow to reach orgasm.  Unfortunately, her stout thighs weren’t up to the task of supporting the rest of her and she collapsed down on the rim.

“That’s fucking cold,” said Agent Magnuson struggling to her feet.

I handed her a towel to dry herself.

“How do you like my rings?  I just got them last month.” she asked flicking them with her fingers.

Say something nice I told myself. “They’re very pretty.  Did it hurt when they put them in?”

“Oh fuck, did it?  I screamed my head off.  Good thing I was tied down,” said Agent Magnuson.

“You weren’t sedated?” I asked wondering how painful it would be to have someone push a needle through your clitoris.  Was it as bad as having a fishhook inserted in your nipples?

“Shit no, it was part of my initiation,” said Agent Magnuson.

I never got to ask who initiated her or why.  Agent Tyson interrupted, “Show me how this works for a guy.”

He handed what was left of his sandwich to Agent Magnuson as he reached for his fly.  She lifted the bread to check the contents then took a large bite.

“It’s not really a urinal,” I said as he pulled his cock out, unlimbered it, and let fly, utterly ignoring me.

It was an unusually long thick cock and Agent Magnuson felt the need to elaborate.  “Agent Tyson is known as Tripod Tyson around the Hoover Building.  If we see a girl walking bowlegged down the hall, we say she’s been ‘tysoned’.”

I was speechless.  And I did not want to describe how Dan after having a bowel movement in the toilet would use the bidet to wash his anus.

“So how does it clean my dick,” asked Agent Tyson shaking off a few drops that landed on the floor?

“It doesn’t,” I said. “It’s not designed for that.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to do it, Marnie,” said Agent Magnuson finishing off the sandwich.  There was a comma of mayonnaise at the corner of her mouth.

“What,” I said in no way comprehending what was about to happen.

“Clean his dick.  It’s got piss on it,” said Agent Magnuson starting to sound more menacing.

“Use this,” I said reaching for one of the small towels stacked by the bidet that we keep there for that purpose.

It was at that moment, Agent Magnuson released her inner psycho bitch.  “No, you stupid cunt, use your fucking mouth,” said Agent Magnuson pulling her pistol out of the holster and cocking it.  In a flash, she grabbed my hair and forced me to my knees.   She smacked me on the side of my head with the gun barrel causing me to see stars.

“Suck his fucking cock, Marnie, or I’ll blow your fucking head off,” screamed Agent Magnuson holding the barrel hard against my temple.  That hurt like hell.

For the second time in a week, I was about to be raped.   But when you’re on your knees and the worst psycho bitch you can imagine is calling for you to suck somebody’s cock, you do it.  Agent Tyson moved to where the head was pressing against my lips.  I could smell piss. My mouth opened and I took it in.

“Marnie’s a piss drinker, aren’t you, Marnie,” asked Agent Magnuson.

I was whatever the nut case with a gun said I was.  “Yes, I drink piss,” I said taking that very big cock out of my mouth.  It was a stretch to get my lips around it.

“Take it, you piss swallowing slut whore,” said Agent Tyson proving he hadn’t totally emptied his bladder into the bidet.  Swallowing rank urine is not easy but I had nine millimeters of incentive not to fuck up.

“Look at that lying whore drinking your piss.  She loves it.  She can’t get enough.  She wants more,” said Agent Magnuson reaching for the glass I used to rinse my mouth after I brush my teeth.

Agent Tyson’s bladder was empty so I stopped swallowing and concentrate on sucking.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Agent Magnuson was holding the glass between her legs and filling it.

“Drink this, Piss Lover,” she said extending the full to the brim glass to me.  Some sloshed over my hand as I took the glass.

“Bottoms up, cunt,” said Agent Tyson with a big smile on his face.

It took several swallows but I managed to get it down.  As soon as I finished, Agent Tyson took hold of my head and forced it down on his cock.

“Face fucking time,” said Agent Tyson as he jammed his pecker into my throat.

At some point, he forced it far enough down that my face was smashed into his groin with his balls pressing against my chin.  Agent Magnuson used her fingers to clamp my nostrils shut.  They held me tight between them as I fought for air.  My throat was gagging around the meat cylinder lodged inside.  In desperation, I managed to throw them off me and leap for the bidet where I puked up an amazing amount of piss along with lunch.

I was leaning on the bidet with my stomach still heaving when I felt Agent Tyson’s cock seeking to penetrate my vagina.  I felt a hand on the back of my neck forcing my head downward into the vomit.

“I want to drown the bitch in her own puke,” said Agent Magnuson as she forced my head under the surface.  She held it there until I thought my lungs were going to explode.  Agent Tyson’s fingers were pulling my anus apart as he hammered his mega dick into my vagina.

She submerged me repeatedly in my muck as her partner fucked me.  At one point, he was doing painful things to my ass while she used one hand to try and rip my nipple off.  It’s hard to imagine a more brutal and disgusting form of sexual intercourse.  But from the whoops and yelps coming from my tormentors, I could tell they were having a wonderful time.

Revelation arrived when she pulled me up and said, “If you don’t tell us where the twenty million is, I’m going to hold you under until you drown.”

The twenty million again, who would have thought it.  Of course, they were after it.  I should have guessed.  Still, this was the FBI.  They were supposed to be public servants.

“Going to blow,” said Agent Tyson with two thumbs prying my anus open as he bruised my rear with a staccato of thrusts.  I felt him fill my stretched and sore vagina with semen.

Agent Magnuson wasn’t finished, however.  She grabbed one of my recently healed nipples and twisted it as she pushed my head toward the muck.  “Let’s see how long before she turns blue.”

“I’ll tell you where the money is,” I said.  It was a lie but I couldn’t take any more.

“Where s it, bitch?” demanded Agent Magnuson.

At that moment, I felt something being poured into my asshole and the pain was so intense. I went nuts.  It was like someone had stuck a red hot poker up my butt.  I broke free of Agent Magnuson and rolled around the floor grabbing for my ass which was on fire.

“What did you do to her, Tyson,” asked Agent Magnuson.

“Poured Listerine in her shit hole,” said Agent Tyson proudly holding up the plastic bottle.  He had stuck the neck of the bottle in my anus and squeezed the plastic.  He was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.

“Why the fuck did you do that?  She was about to tell us where the money is,” said Agent Magnuson.

“Stupid cunt is lying.  She doesn’t know shit,” said Agent Tyson.

While they were having their little tête-à-tête, yours truly was screaming in pain and dragging her butt across the tile floor like an Airedale with a bad case of worms.  Obviously, Agent Tyson knew a use for Listerine that wasn’t on the label.  I was out of my mind; it felt like someone had poured gasoline in my rectum and set it on fire.

“So what do you want to do, Genius?” asked Agent Magnuson.

“Make her find the money for us,” said Agent Tyson.

“And why should she do that?” asked Agent Magnuson.

“Because if she doesn’t, we’ll air mail her to our friends across the pond,” said Agent Tyson.

“Might work,” said Agent Magnuson after thinking for a moment.

“I brought the DVD that shows the spa treatment she’ll receive,” said Agent Tyson with a grin.  “We’ll show it to her.”

“All right, nothing to lose by trying.  What do you want me to do with her?” asked Agent Magnuson.

“Clean her up.  I’m going to the kitchen and make another sandwich.  Want anything?” said Agent Tyson.

“Yes, but make mine with mustard not mayonnaise.  I’m trying to lose a few pounds,” said Agent Magnuson.

As Agent Tyson left the room, I reached into a cabinet and pulled out my douche bag then I started crawling toward the shower, keeping my burning asshole in contact with the tiles.

“I’ll help you with that, Marnie,” said Agent Magnuson as she started to undress.

“My guts are on fire,” I said struggling to get into the oversized shower stall.

“That Tyson is one crazy motherfucker. Some CIA type taught him that Listerine trick.  He gets the biggest kick out of watching the perp go nuts,” said Agent Magnuson as she removed her bra to expose her enormous breasts.  I’d guess 38DD.

“The pain is unbearable and it won’t go away.  Please hurry,” I pleaded.

The now nude Alice Magnuson got into the shower and turned the water on.

“After I douche out your butt, you can show your appreciation by eating my pussy,” said Agent Magnuson as she filled the bag.

“Yes, anything, just hurry,” I said.

Chapter 4   My Buddy Alice

“Isn’t that the most beautiful sight you ever did see,” whispered Alice looking lovingly at Agent Tyson sprawled across my couch in the Entertainment Center?  She actually sighed like a love sick school girl.

Agent Magnuson had instructed me to call her by the first name.  “Call me Alice.  Agent Magnuson is too formal for someone whose tongue has been up my ass,” was how she delicately phrased it.  Her attitude toward me had softened during two hours of lesbian sex followed by a night of sleeping curled up like two kittens.  I was too scared of the crazy bitch not to humor her.  And oddly enough I’d come to have a small advantage over her.

She had been nicer in the shower, filling the enema bag with warm water, emptying a foil packet of cleansing powder into the bag and shaking it.  All the while, I was huddled on the floor holding my guts and trying to deal with the pain of having a rectum full of alcohol-based mouth wash.

Alice applied a lubricant to my chemically tortured anus, inserted he nozzle, and released the clamp, allowing the liquid to soothe my bowels.  Relief was pretty much immediate.

“Those Langley spooks are clever.  It hurts like hell but it’s over when you wash it out and you’re good for another round of persuasion,” said Alice.

I could see her point although it would only take one Listerine enema for me to tell all I knew.  The pain was unbearable.

“It’s much better,” I said using the shower to wash the vomit and piss out of my hair while holding onto the contents of my bowls.  My pussy felt raw from its pummeling by Agent Tyson’s mega-cock.  I had truly been “tysoned.”

I was hunched over, doing everything humanly possible to keep my asshole from leaking when Alice revealed she had a fetish that was frowned upon by an overwhelming percentage of the planet’s population.  “You won’t think I’m some kind of weirdo if I ask you to do something?” said Alice as she sat down on the shower floor.

Our home was a custom build and we put a lot of money into the master bedroom suite and the bath in particular.  The shower stall could easily accommodate several people; however up to this point it had only been Dan and me.  There were shower heads on three walls and the builder had engineered the water pressure accordingly.  Our water bill reflected their output.

Her pistol was outside the shower with her clothes but I wasn’t going to argue.  “Sure, what is it?”  And for that matter, I try to keep an open mind about other people’s sexual practices.

“Let go on my face,” said Alice who was now lying on her back with her mouth open.

I was having increasing difficulty keeping my sphincter closed.  My arms were holding my abdomen, trying to control the pain.  Cramps were racking my innards to the point it felt like my guts were moving around inside me like a python on a hot stove.  Still it struck me as too perverted even for the progeny of that super fag, J. Edgar Hoover.  “You sure,” I asked?  “I’m a mess inside.”  It felt like the contents of all fourteen feet of my large intestine were going to burst out at once.

“Just do it, please. Squat down so you’re closer to my mouth.  I’ve been a bad girl, Mommy, and I want you to punish me,” said Alice in a pleading little girl voice.  Her fingers were working her pussy.  I could hear her rings clinking together.  She had become very aroused at the prospect.

Why not, I decided as I performed a deep knee bend that left my butt hole inches above her head.  Alice’s placed her hands on my buttocks to line up my asshole and her mouth before whispering, “Go ahead, Mommy.  Shit on your baby girl, Alice.  She’s been bad.”

I won’t describe what happened.  It’s too disgusting.  Other than to say that Agent Tyson’s Listerine enema had loosened up the contents of my GI tract and everything came out in a rush.  Alice climaxed as I buried her head in a deep pile of loose shit.  I can’t talk about what her mouth was busily doing under that pile.  Her orgasm lasted a surprisingly long time.  The odor was appalling. The shower smelled like a feed lot.  I was in shit up to my ankles.  Still, it fell good to evacuate my colon; even if it ended in the type of fart that made you wonder if you had been storing up methane for a couple of months.

After I was empty and she ceased flopping about like a landed lake pike, she wiped her eyes out, gave my sphincter an appreciative kiss, and told me I had done a great job.  She also asked for my silence. “That was incredible, the best I ever experienced.  I really got off.  But please don’t ever tell Larry.  He’d big mouth it to everyone in our unit and they’d tease me for months,” said Alice using one of the handheld showers to wash the crap off.

Letting your co-workers find out you get off on role playing your mother having a loose bowel movement in your mouth is probably not good for your career in criminal justice; but I had no reason to tell Larry that Alice was a twisted perverted fetishist who needed therapy.  No doubt he already knew it.

After we managed to hose the shit down the drain, we washed each other’s hair like we were old girl friends.  Alice got very sweet and loving and kept calling me, “Mommy.”  When we got out of the shower, I found her a spare tooth brush and handed her a half empty bottle of Listerine.  I told her to brush carefully for Mommy; so her breath didn’t smell like shit.

I thought that once we were cleaned up, we would rejoin Agent Tyson but Alice had other ideas.  “Let’s get in bed, Mommy.  I need a cuddle.” What followed were a couple of hours of intense girl on girl sex followed by our falling asleep until the next morning.

“Let me get you off, Mommy.  You haven’t come yet,” said Alice as we climbed on my bed.  They say perverts are made not born, and it appeared Alice’s mother did a bang up job.  Little Alice attacked her Mom’s pussy like it was pure heaven, making little girl sighs between long slow licks that traveled between by clit and my anus.  I relaxed and went with the flow.

I am not a lesbian but I experienced lesbian sex in the Marines and the occasional girl at a party when I was in college. I prefer men but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy both.  Fat little Alice proved to be a talented rug muncher who go me off in no time.  She had me writhing around on the bed, screaming, “Eat that fucking pussy, you little bitch,” and other obscenities as her mouth and fingers worked my orifices.

After I recovered my breath, we went into sixty nine with me on top, Thank God.

At some point, Alice felt the need to accessorize, “Where are your toys, Mommy?”

“Here, sweetheart,” I answered opening the top drawer of my night table.  Dan’s frequent overnight business trips had led me to purchase a large assortment of marital aids off the Internet.  It was either that or accept my friend Jill’s invitation to accompany her to one of several meat markets where she allowed men to pick her up and fuck her brains out.   Per Jill, if we did not find a satisfactory fuck buddy, we would do each other.

According to Jill, her husband, Lenard, knew all about her forays and approved them with the proviso she describe to him in detail exactly what transpired.  They’d been married sixteen years.  I attributed their aberrant behavior to boredom.  My views of marriage precluded adultery with either sex.  But since I was now a widow, the bar had been reset.

“You got quite a collection, Mommy.  Make your baby girl come,” said Alice handing me a tube of Wet, an inflatable butt plug, and a bright pink dildo that vibrated and had a clit stimulator.   She rolled over onto all fours presenting me with her rear end.  I applied the Wet then inserted the butt plug and gave it a few pumps.

“Work it in and out, Mommy.  Your little Alice loves it when you do my bottom,” said Alice maintaining her little girl voice.  Having a two hundred plus pounds twenty-something female speaking in baby talk could have been a cause for laughter.  I had to remind myself that not half an hour ago, she was holding a pistol to my head while she attempted to drown me in piss and vomit while her partner fucked me.

I slowly eased the plug in and out her sphincter as I kissed her buttocks and played with her pussy.  I kept squeezing the bulb inflating the plug until it was wedged in place.  After a decent interval during which Alice moaned so loudly I wondered why Agent Tyson didn’t come to see what was happening, I move to the next phase.  I used my fingers to loosen up her vagina, applied Wet, and inserted the pink dildo.

“Fuck me harder, Mommy,” said Alice pushing back to bury the dildo in her pussy.  That was followed by, “Spank me, Mommy. Spank me.  I’ve been bad.  I let Mike put his cock in my little pussy.” I was all too happy to oblige delivering hard open palm swats that turned her bottom the same shade as the dildo.  Obviously, Alice had serious family issues; but I decided to play along.

It was time for my stern Marine technical sergeant voice.  “You little slut, did you suck his cock after I told you not to.” I followed that up with a rain of butt slaps that left my hand tingling.

“He made me do it, Mommy,” said Alice starting to blubber.  “It was so big.”

We continued on in that vain with Alice revealing more acts of incest and me responding with more slaps.  It turned out Mike was her older brother.  Alice’s eyes rolled back in her head when she hit the big “O”.  She managed to force the butt plug out like it had been shot from a cannon.

Silly me thought that was the end of girl sex but Alice was just getting started.

“What else you got” asked Alice opening another drawer of my bed table. “Cool,” she exclaimed upon discovering the pair of weighted nipple clamps I’d bought a year ago.  I mistakenly thought it might be fun or at least stimulating.  I kept them on for all of five seconds before I jerked them off almost taking my nipples with them.

“You need a pump and suction cups to make these really hurt,” said Alice stretching her nipple out, giving it a twist, and releasing the clamp.  The woman was a pain slut

After a loud hiss of agony, she whispered, “Nice,” then did the other nipple.  Watching made my tits hurt. It takes a twisted mind to confuse pain and pleasure.

“Use this,” said Alice handing me the strap on dildo I had bought at Dan’s request.  Every couple has its secrets.  About two months ago, I had complained to Dan about his lack of interest in sex.  I was tactful about it, suggesting I was the problem not him.  You know how men are if someone questions their swordsmanship.  I loved Dan and miss him greatly but he wasn’t that exciting in bed.  After the first year of marriage, sex became less frequent.  Masturbating while watching porn became our substitute for intercourse.

Since I was trying to get pregnant, I broached the topic and he surprised me by shyly admitting that strap on sex appealed to him.  It struck me as a little gay; but I didn’t want to appear judgmental so I ordered several styles and sizes from the Internet.

It did revive our sex life to the point that after I plowed Dan’s ass, he would mount me and finish in my pussy after which I would slip off the bed into a shoulder stand to aid Mother Nature.   However, I did not get pregnant.

“Let’s go for the big one,” said Alice replacing the eight inch dildo mounted on the harness with the largest one, a ten inch monster that was thick as my forearm.  It was covered with raised nodules and was named, “The Punisher,” according to the packaging.

Alice rolled back on her all fours to allow gravity to work on the nipple clamp weights.  Thank God, she’d dropped the stupid role play.

“I am your slut bitch.  Now fuck the shit out of me,” demanded Alice.

I had taken a lot of punishment from first Sergei et al and now the FBI, so this was a chance for a little payback.  I got into a crouch over Alice pink bottom, positioned the realistic flared mushroom head of the monster dildo at her opening then grabbed a handful of her hair yanking her head back.  I rammed it home.  When the dildo hit bottom, Alice buried her face in a pillow to muffle her scream.

I rode the fat cunt hard holding onto her hair with one hand while the other worked its way inside her anus.  The inflatable plug had loosened her hole and I was able to get most of my hand inside on the first try.  I added more Wet and found myself wrist deep.  I pushed in several inches thinking Alice would protest but I was wrong.

“Deeper,” she begged.  “And make a fist.”

My hand could feel the dildo as it traveled up her birth canal and bounced off the wall of her cervix.  She screamed each time it hit but in spite of everything I sensed she enjoyed it.  It was the kind of brutal fucking only a masochist would love.   I’d had a few of those back in my military career when we returned from a patrol that had taken casualties.  When you’ve seen your buddies blown away, you want to fuck somebody and let the anger and rage out.   Once, after a bloody encounter in a booby trapped alley, my squad leader let the survivors take out their frustrations on me and another female soldier.  It was like they were trying to kill me with their dicks.  But that was combat fucking for the Corps and somehow different.

I settled into a rhythm of fisting her ass and dildo fucking her pussy.  Her hand worked her clit to another world rocking climax.  We were both covered in sweat when I collapsed onto the bed.

Alice removed her nipple clamps, wrapped her arm around me and promptly fell asleep. I was too exhausted to do anything other than join her.  It was almost ten o’clock in the morning when we woke.  That was when we found Agent Tyson.

He was asleep, buck naked, and holding his spent cock in one hand.  There were splashes of dried semen on his thigh and the arm of my Italian leather sofa.  Our fifty four inch flat screen high definition television had “Anal Debutantes No. 12” queued up, waiting for him to press the play button.   Apparently, he had found Dan and my porn collection and helped himself.  A half eaten sandwich was resting on a plate.  Several empty beer bottles were making water stains on my mahogany occasional table.  Doesn’t the FBI know what a coaster is for?

“Morning sluts, how about a BJ to start the day off right?” said Agent Tyson awakening at our arrival.  He stretched and fisted his cock as he spoke.

“You get it Marnie.  I’ll fix the coffee,” said Alice immediately leaving for my kitchen.

I wasn’t in the mood to suck his or anybody’s cock but I didn’t have a choice.

“You got some pretty decent porn,” said Agent Tyson as I knelt on the floor between his legs and reached for his cock.  It smelled of urine, sweat, and dried semen.  But after all I’d been through it didn’t strike me as any big deal.  He found the remote and started the DVD.  On screen, two overly augmented porn stars were working on a cock that was smaller than the one I had in my mouth.

It had been my experience that men come quickly in the morning and Agent Tyson was no exception. By the time, Alice showed up with a tray of steaming coffee cups, I had a mouthful of semen that needed washing down.

“I need a shave and shower.  You still got your husband’s shaving stuff?” said Agent Tyson standing.

“Yes, it’s on the right side of the vanity,” I said.

“What are you going to do with me,” I asked Alice after he left.

“My partner has a DVD he wants you to watch,” said Alice.

“Why?” I asked.

“It illustrates what will happen to your ass if you don’t come up with the twenty million your old man stole from Uncle Sam,” said Alice.

“I don’t know anything about twenty million,” I said.

“Then I guess you’re going to end your days in the Spa.  You got the fixings for pancakes?  I saw some blueberries in the fridge. I’m hungry for blue berry pancakes,” said Alice getting up.

“Yes, I have pancake batter,” I said following her into the kitchen.

Chapter 5   Extraordinary Rendition

“Sit here between us, Marnie,” said Larry patting the couch as he flashed a predatory smile in my direction.  Apparently, I was now on a first name basis with Agent Tyson.  He’d returned from his bath wearing one of Dan’s cashmere bathrobes.  As far as the FBI was concerned the rule was, “Mi casa es su casa.”  The robe was entirely too short on him.  Dan was 5’9” and Larry was well over 6’.

He didn’t bother to tie the belt; so his cock was on display.  I suppose when your penis is that large, you feel obligated to let the world take a look.  I kept wondering how something that size managed to enter the tiny hole I call my pussy.  I had a feeling that before the day was out I’d get a repeat performance.  Hopefully, I wouldn’t be submerged in puke and piss when it happened.

My arm was tired from flipping pancakes.  Alice had consumed them as fast as I could cook them.  She’d also asked me to fry a rasher of apple wood cured bacon and a six pack of breakfast sausage.  Larry downed two stacks of pancakes along with two poached eggs.

Consistent with my training regimen, I’d eaten a cup of low fat yogurt with fruit and a bowl of oat cereal and one percent milk. “Rabbit food,” had been Alice’s comment as she consumed her stack of artery cloggers.

In an effort to keep my guests happy, I’d heated the maple syrup and slathered real butter between each of the pancakes.  Theirs was a staggeringly unhealthy meal but it wouldn’t kill them before they had a chance to kill me.

Breakfast over and the dishwasher loaded without any assistance from law enforcement, I joined them in the home entertainment center.  While I was cleaning the kitchen, Alice returned to the master bedroom and donned my strap on harness, then fitted it with the largest of the dildo’s which was called, “Annihilator Missile.”  It was cobalt blue and covered with raised bumps that according to the brochure guaranteed a rough ride.  The specifications stated the circumference was eight inches and the insertable length eleven inches.   To my knowledge only gay males are interested in seeing how large a dildo they can get in their bowels; but I had the uneasy feeling, she was going to penetrate me with it.

“My fake cock is bigger than yours, Larry,” said Alice waving the Missile up and down as she placed it along his for comparison.

“Yeah, but mine is real,” replied Larry waving his manhood.

“You better be hollow inside, Marnie,” said Alice waving the dildo in my face.

The Annihilator Missile had never been used.  When I showed my purchases to Dan, he just laughed and said, “You wasted your money.  No way is that going up my ass.”  He selected the smallest of the dildos for me to use on him.  Strap on sex had revived our sex life from Dan’s perspective.  But it didn’t do much for me.  While I worked up a sweat, crouched over him dog style and pounding his butt, he would masturbate until he deposited a thick load of semen on the sheets.  He immediately rolled over and went to sleep leaving me to clean up the dildo and come.  That gave me another excuse to purchase my own supply of dildos and butt plugs that Alice was so impressed with.

“What’s that for, Alice,” I asked patting the Annihilator Missile resting between her legs?   I was still under the impression we were now friends since we had become fuck buddies and slept together curled up like kittens.

Alice didn’t have a subtle bone in her body.  “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you with it after we show you what will happen if you don’t cough up Uncle Sam’s twenty million.”

With that, Larry pressed the remote and the screen filled with a notice that what I was about to watch was classified.  Any divulging of the contents would subject me to a fine of $10,000 and up to five years in the penitentiary for each person I told.

“Which DVD is this,” asked Alice pulling my robe open and give my nipple a painful squeeze.

“Ouch, take it easy,” I said.

“Just warming you up, Marnie,” said Alice repeating the pinch on my other nipple.

“It’s the one with the Murrains,” said Larry putting his arm around me as he picked up my left hand and placed it on his cock.  It felt warmer than the rest of him leading me to believe it had a heat source all its own.

“Oh good, this is the one I’m in,” said Alice.

As a picture of the Hoover Building came into focus announcing the film was a product of the FBI’s Public Information Department, I asked, “What am I watching?”

“The Bureau has created a special program for criminals who owe the government large sums.  We’ve had to outsource their interrogation to keep the bleeding heart liberals off our ass.   If you fail to recover and turn over the funds your husband stole, you will be declared an Enemy Combatant under the terms of the Patriot Act and rendered to our facility overseas for interrogation,” said Larry.

“We call it the spa,” said Alice almost giggling.

“That’s ridiculous.  I’m not an enemy combatant,” I said watching the credits.  This was not some amateur film shot with a hand held camcorder.  It looked very professional.

“Your husband’s boat exploded on Lake Superior, an international waterway, a terrorist act if ever there was one,” said Larry condescendingly.

“But I had nothing to do with that,” I protested.

“Marnie dearest, there are little people like you in this world and big people like Larry and me.  By act of Congress, we can do whatever we want.  Now shut the fuck up before I twist your nipples off,” said Alice taking hold of my dug for another painful three sixty.

I could have sworn the person doing the voice over was the same one who did commercials on television.  He had a deep melodious voice as he provided back ground on a young Miami couple named Louis and Consuela Murrain.  I watched intently as the DVD recounted their resume vitae.

Consuela Morales was born in Cuba and came to this country at age two.  Her father was a lawyer who established a successful practice.  There were pictures of her as an infant, her first Holy Communion, cheering on her high school football team, being inducted in the National Honor Society, and graduating as valedictorian.  She went on to Florida State and eventually got her law degree and passed the bar.

Louis Murrain was also the son of Cuban immigrants but he was born in this country.  Similar to Consuela, there were a series of growing up pictures ending with his passing the Florida bar.

The final set of background film was taken from the wedding video of the couple. There was quite a bit of wedding included.  Consuela made a gorgeous bride.  And her family went all out to make it a memorable day. The couple had met in college, dated, moved in together and eventually married, nothing particularly exciting or different about that.

Louis had gone to work for a large Miami law firm and Consuela joined a smaller boutique partnership specializing in criminal law.  The narrator referred to Consuela’s employer as the leading, “white powder” firm in south Florida.

The Murrains made a handsome couple.  While Louis was nice looking, Consuela could turn heads.  There were several shots of her in a power suit with a short skirt that reminded me of the television show, “Ally McBeal.”  The woman had great legs.  And there was one shot of Louis and her at a pool party where she was wearing a minimal bikini.  The woman had a very good figure and her sculptured abs showed she worked hard to keep it.

It turned out Consuela had not only looks but brains because she rapidly became the one of the leading pleaders for several major drug dealers in the area.  Louis’ career was much more modest.  He specialized in real estate transactions, handling closing for local banks.

“This part is boring the shit out of me,” said Alice.  “Can’t we skip to the good stuff?”

“Marnie needs to understand who the Murrains were so she can identify with them.  The background shit is there for a purpose,” said Larry huffily.

After a few more minutes, I learned that the Murrains, thanks mostly to Consuela, moved up the economic ladder.  They bought an upscale house on an inland canal and joined the country club.  Consuela looked downright hot in a tennis skirt.

Somehow, the FBI learned that Consuela moved from being a lawyer to a player.  There was telephoto surveillance video of her at a pool side meeting with a Ramon Ochoa.  According to the DEA, he was the leader of the local cartel and a muy mal hombre.  She not only snorted lines with Ramon; she wound up in bed with him.  At least that was the inference since after a serious make out session in which he half undressed her and she sucked his cock, they headed inside to find a bed.

The next part showed Agents Tyson and Magnuson leading a tearful and handcuffed Consuela and Louis from their Miami home.

“The camera adds ten pounds,” said Alice watching a view of her and Consuela’s rear ends as they walked toward a police car.

I doubted the camera made Alice’s butt appears twice as large as Consuela’s but I kept my mouth shut.  The woman knew how to pinch a nipple so it hurt like blazes.

The next scene showed a private jet taking off from Miami airport as the announcer said the two had been declared enemy combatants in accordance with the Patriot Act.  They were being transported overseas for interrogation.  I gave thought to asking about whether their civil rights were violated and why was Louis arrested since he represented lenders in home closings.  But I decided not to bother.  They were the FBI and they could do what they want and fuck whomever they had a hard on for.

“Where is that,” I asked watching the jet land?

“Military airport outside Alexandria, Egypt,” said Alice.

“That’s supposed to be a fucking secret, Agent Magnuson,” scolded Larry.

“The New York Times reported that the spa was in Egypt,” said Alice.

“But you didn’t have to confirm it, stupid,” said Larry.

“Fuck you, asshole,” said Alice starting to lose her temper.

“Why is it that once you eat some cunt’s pussy, you fall in love and start to tell her everything.  Stop acting like a love sick dyke and be professional,” said Larry getting equally angry.

On screen, the two were led off the plane and handed over to a group dressed in military uniforms of what I assumed was the Egyptian army.  The officers wore impeccable uniforms and were handsome in a cruel way.  The enlisted men looked like the dregs of the earth, typical Middle Eastern army.  The Marines had chewed up and spat out several of its kind.

You could see everyone was pleased to have someone with Consuela’s looks to interrogate.  As they loaded them in a truck, one of the sergeants was lifting her skirt.  Around me, things were heating up.

“Don’t call me a dyke.  You’re nothing but a fucking queer and I’ve got the pictures to prove it,” shouted Alice.

“You ever show them to anyone and I’ll bust a cap in that fat ass of yours,” said Larry starting to rise up.

I could picture gay males going gaga over Larry’s member but I had other matters to occupy my mind.  I was seriously concerned the two were about to go looking for their pistols.  “Calm down, everyone, I thought you wanted me to watch this.”  On screen, the army truck was driving way.  Right before they lowered the tarp, you could see that Consuela was on her back in the truck bed and the Sergeant was taking position between her legs.  Apparently, her interrogators believed in beginning the rape phase early and avoiding sloppy seconds.

I was surprised my intervention worked.  Larry muttered, “Sorry.”  Alice responded with her own, “Sorry, you’re not a queer” and reached across me to give Larry’s cock a friendly pat.

The next forty five minutes were sickening.  It began with a gang rape in an outdoor courtyard of what I assumed was a prison.  The Murrains were naked, side by side, tied over some kind of rough wooden bench with their butts pointed skyward.  The bench was designed for anal intercourse since the fucker was mounted on top of the fuckee’s ass screwing almost straight downward.

There were two long lines of scruffy-looking young soldiers taking turns.  An officer was supervising.  After each soldier blew his load, the officer stepped forward to deliver two blows with his cane to the pair’s backside.  It was a flexible bamboo cane, the kind that bent during the downswing.  It made a loud snapping sound when it landed.

Sergei and his goons had caned me with something similar so I knew how it felt.  It’s pure hell delivering a hot searing pain that wrenches a scream out of you that leaves you breathless.  The sensation rushes straight to that part of your brain that measures agony and sets off all the alarms.  Being caned between anal rapes is about as bad as it gets.  The officer and the men were obviously having a good time.  It’s a part of the world where one of the few things people can enjoy is hurting others.  I’ve been to the hell hole called the Middle East.  The population is subhuman.

The film’s producers hadn’t skimped on video or sound quality.  During the opening credits, I noted it was Dolby-4 and Blu-Ray high definition.  You could see the bamboo cane depressing the flesh and hear the ear splitting shriek that followed.  There were close ups of raw rosebuds leaking come, shit, and blood.  Some one had wedged a thick wooden dildo in Consuela’s vagina.  I wasn’t sure whether it was there to prevent the rapist from going into the wrong hole or to tighten up her asshole.  It looked like it had been hammered in place.

Both Murrains were perspiring heavily and pleading for the rape to stop.  Each time they felt a soldier drop his load, they began screaming for the officer to spare them the cane.  He always ignored their request.  Maybe he didn’t speak English.

“The spa treatment starts with an anal gang rape of one hundred each to soften you up,” said Alice.  “Think you could handle a hundred butt fucks, Marnie?”

“What choice would I have,” I asked watching as a well hung Egyptian mounted Louis’s shit and blood stained asshole.  Before I did strap on sex with my meticulously clean husband, I had to connect a rubber nozzle to a shower faucet and wash his ass out.  True love is being willing to clean out your man’s ass before you fuck it.

The flex douche was another of my Internet purchases.  Dan told me he enjoyed the anal cleansing almost as much as having his butt plowed with the strap on.  Nobody had cleaned Louis and Consuela’s rectum out; but it didn’t seem to bother the enlisted men who plowed through their shit without hesitating.

“At least, a broad has two holes, a guy has to take it in the same hole all the time,” said Larry commiserating with his own gender.

Ever so often, the officer would reach into a nearby box of a white substance and sprinkle it on their back causing the Murrain to go crazy with pain.  It put them into a frenzy as they twisted and screamed.  The men in line thought it was funny as hell and tried to get their cock inside before they calmed down.

“Salt,” said Larry telling me something I had already guessed.  Sergei had rubbed salt into the abrasions left by the cane.  The pain is incredible.  You want to die.

“Looks something like a Swedish Rodeo,” said Alice.

I couldn’t contain my curiosity.  “What is a Swedish Rodeo?”

Larry chose to answer.  “You stick your raw cock up a girl’s asshole as far as it will go; then you grip her real tight and whisper in her ear that you’ve got AIDS.”

Alice chose to finish the explanation.  “Then you see how long you can hold on before the girl bucks you off.”

On screen, a hysterical Consuela was doing her best to buck off a well hung Private who was busily massaging Dead Sea Salt into her cuts.  “I don’t suppose that ever really happens,” I said.

“I’ve seen a guy do it to a girl in the back room of a bar.  But he didn’t really have AIDS and she was from Georgia.  She went shit crazy.  He had to knock her out so he could finish fucking her,” said Larry sounding worldly.

I suppose being an FBI agent gave you the opportunity to observe different sexual practices.  The gang rape ended with the officers delivering a flurry of blows followed by more salt.  At the end, a squad of soldiers carried the almost lifeless couple away.

“They owed the government money,” I asked?

“Ramon Ochoa gave Consuela twenty five million to hold.  Or at least we thought he did but since she never told us where the money was, we may have got it wrong,” said Larry.

“Just like I don’t have any twenty million,” I said.

“If you’re not talking after thirty days at the spa, we’ll know we made a mistake,” said Alice.

“Even the FBI can’t be right all the time,” said Larry philosophically.

The scene had moved indoors.  The pair was in a large room, wrists and ankles bound to a metal bed frame that was stood on end so they were vertical.  At first, they were hard to recognize.  Their heads had been shaved.  Consuela’s mane of dark curly locks was missing and she didn’t look that great without it.  When she opened her mouth, you could tell some of her front teeth were missing.  One of Louis’ eyes was slowly shut.  Apparently, they had both been badly beaten but that didn’t make the final DVD cut.

“The electrical part makes me horny,” said Alice slipping her hand inside the crotch cover of the dildo harness to work her clit.

“Me too,” added Larry using his hand to encourage me to stroke his semi-hard cock.  “Electrical is big in Mexico.  I got a friend in the bureau who did a three year tour in Nuevo Laredo as a liaison with the Federal police.  They shock the shit out of you before they ask the first question.  Those crazy bastards have a four week course to train recruits in how to interrogate prisoners with electricity.  That’s why every police facility in the country got its own generator in case there is a power failure.”

“I’ve heard they like to work on the kids while Mom and Dad watch.  And the bastards got no age limits,” said Alice.

“Right, your average Mexican is one tough motherfucker but they break quick when the police put a cattle prod up their five year old’s ass.  People are savages.  Wow! Did you see the way her tits bounce?” said Larry.  “I’ve seen this fifty times but it always makes my cock hard.”

True to his word, I felt his manhood harden in my hand as we watched one of the officers repeatedly touch a forked-tipped cattle prod to the point of Consuela’s breast and pull the trigger.  Her boob did take on a life of its own as it bounced up and down repeatedly while Consuela opened her mouth for a full throated scream.   When he got tired of that, he moved to her clit and then to her mouth.

My father was a dairy farmer and he had a cattle prod he seldom used.  Once, out of curiosity, I applied it on low power to my foot.  That turned out to be a really bad idea since I couldn’t walk for an hour.  I could only imagine how a fully charged Bull Zapper discharge felt on your tongue.

Larry was fully erect by the time the Egyptians connected up a dozen leads to Louis and Consuela’s sensitive body parts and turned on the juice.  I watched in horror as they slipped an electrified probe in Consuela’s urethra.  They alternated powering that with the ones in her vagina and anus.  A big nasty looking clamp electrified her clit and the ones on her nipples occasionally emitted a small puff of smoke.

My God, I won’t be able to walk popped into my brain as I stroke his tumescence.    He had grown huge and it had a classic flared head with a deep under lip.  When he pulled out, the suction might bring my female organs with it.  On a couple of occasions in the Marines, I’d taken on an organ the size of Larry’s.  It was painful not fun and the next day, every step is an agony.  I wondered how many females in the bureau had been, “tysoned,” and whether they had a support group.

On screen Louis had a long probe inserted in his urethra that must have reached his bladder.  He went nuts when they applied the amps.

“Those guys can make your piss boil in your bladder,” said Larry.

There didn’t seem to be much if any questioning going on.  It was mostly torture for torture’s sake.

“You get the idea, Marnie,” asked Larry stopping the DVD then pressing the menu button on the remote before selecting, “Chapters.”?  Christ, the FBI’s torture video worked just like the ones I received in the mail from Netflix.

“We’re not going to watch the whole thing,” questioned Alice still working her clit?

“Don’t have time if we plan on getting back to DC by dinner time.  Lindsey is having another couple over for dinner and my ass will be in the dog house if I miss it,” said Larry as he used the remote to step down to the chapter named, “Finale.”

“Wife of yours has got you by the short hairs,” said Alice with a slight tone of contempt in her voice.

“I take my marriage seriously,” said Larry testily.  “Family is the bedrock of America and what makes this country great.”

It was news that Agent Tyson was married.  He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and hadn’t hesitated a minute before he fucked me. My hand was getting him ready to do it again.  He skipped over half dozen chapters with names like water boarding, racking, and branding.

There wasn’t much left of Louis and Consuela in the final scene.  Their bodies were covered in welts and scabs, and their faces had those blank expressions of people who had been tortured out of their minds.  Thank God, the finale was brief.  While four enlisted men held Consuela down, an officer in a white coat stretched out her burnt nipples with a forceps then cut them off at the base with a scalpel.  He cauterized the wounds with a red hot soldering iron.  She still had the energy to scream although it was weak compared to her earlier howls.  Next he removed her clitoris using the same technique.  I felt a twinge in my pussy as he clumsily whacked away until the little man in a boat dropped on the floor then he soldered his incisions closed, no doubt causing an ugly scar.  That’s what passes for surgery in that part of the world.

“Castration is so final,” said Alice.

“The Egyptians do it to all their women to prevent them from becoming whores.  Someone ought to cut your clit off, Alice.  Then you would quit being the biggest pig slut in the bureau,” said Larry.

“They can chop mine off the minute after they hammer your nuts the width of a dime, Larry,” responded Alice.  “All the diesel dykes at the bureau love the next part.”

Louis Murrain was next.  They tied off his balls with a piece of cord and stretched them out until they looked ready to rip off.  A burly sergeant smashed them with a ball peen hammer.  That got Louis’s attention.  The camera lingered for a moment over the flattened balls.  Next, white coat opened his scrotum with a scalpel and took out the destroyed testicles and tossed them on the floor before closing with a red hot iron. The final scene was of the Murrains lying on the stone floor looking lifeless.

“What happened to them,” I asked?

“They’re back in Miami living the good life,” said Larry cheerfully.

Somehow I didn’t believe that was true.

“So you got six weeks to turn over the twenty million,” said Alice or wind up like Consuela. If we find your husband alive, he’ll get the same treatment as Louis.

“Think about it while you suck my dick,” said Larry placing his hand on the back of my head forcing it to his cock.

I sucked my first cock in the eighth grade and I’ve lost count of the ones I’ve sucked since.  Unlike some women I like sucking a man’s cock and get turned on doing it.  I think my enthusiasm augmented by lust makes me a superior cocksucker.  Anyway, I’ve never had any complaints.

There are average sized cocks like my Dan’s that you can swallow right down to the balls and stick your tongue out over your bottom lip to lick their nuts.  That drives Dan crazy.  I love to press my lips tightly around the shaft and slowly descend its entire length providing a tip to base mouth stroke.  An average cock can be positioned at the opening of your throat to give an added thrill especially when he shoots his load straight down your gullet.  A talented cocksucker can do a lot with a normal sized penis.

But Larry Tyson’s was anything but normal.  It felt like my jaw hinges were going to dislocate as I struggled to get the head in my mouth.  About all a girl can do with a Tyson is to suck the head while you stroke the shaft and play with his balls.  You can take it out of your mouth to lick and mouth the nuts while you stroke the shaft.  But as far as true mouth work goes, you’re limited.

I was performing my way through my giant cock repertoire when Larry changed the rules of the game.  He lifted his legs and grabbed his big toes rotating his anus toward my mouth.  In yoga, that’s called the, “happy baby,” pose.  Larry’s happy baby meant he wanted a rim job.

“Ass licking time, cunt, watch the magic hole,” said Larry using his buttocks to flex his anus back and forth, exposing his rosebud.  It’s a trick some people are good at.  The first time I ever saw it done was in the John Waters’ film, Pink Flamingoes. One of the characters could turn his anus inside out for the camera. I watched it my freshman year in high school with a bunch of girls on a sleepover.  Then we each attempted to emulate the character.  High school was a happy, care free time that ends all too quickly.

On the second flex, his hole popped open and a loud fart escaped right into my mouth during an inhalation.  I didn’t think it was funny but Alice and Larry burst into laughter.  I ignored their childish prank and applied the tip of my tongue to the center of Larry’s sphincter.  Larry had the kind of relaxed asshole I associate with bisexual men.  He didn’t tighten up as I pushed the tip of my tongue past the opening.  Alice had mentioned she had pictures of him fagging it and I didn’t doubt more than one dick had preceded my tongue.

“Give my hole a tongue bath, Marnie.  I couldn’t figure out how to make your bidet do the job so I’ll let you handle it,” said Larry relishing in my humiliation.  If you really want to put a person down, make them lick shit off your asshole.

I ignored the taste and aroma of fresh man manure.  He’d move his bowels after his shower and he wasn’t like my Dan when it came to anal hygiene.  Giving a guy’s not so fresh butt hole a tongue bath was something I’d only done before when I was drunk or under duress from Sergei’s crew.

After I’d licked his hole clean, Larry forced me to acknowledge my lack of delicacy.  “You a shit licking pig slut. Aren’t you, Marnie?”

“True,” I replied between licks.  Actually, I’d been through worse with Sergei’s bunch.

“Marnie’s a scat queen,” added Alice who had slipped off the couch and taken a position at my rear.  I could feel the Annihilator Missile being positioned at my vaginal opening.  I told myself to relax that it wouldn’t kill me although I wasn’t sure.

“Let’s see if she can drain my tank and not spill a drop.  Put your mouth on the tap and maintain a seal, Marnie,” said Larry.

“If you spill it, Marnie, I’m going to find a pair of scissors and cut your nipples off,” said Alice giving me an incentive.

I fitted my lips over the head and anchored them to the underside of the flare and waited for my cocktail.  It wasn’t long in coming.

“Four cups of coffee and a glass of OJ and it’s all yours, Mrs. Wagner,” said Larry releasing his flow.  As soon as my mouth approached full, I gulped everything down.  I kept at it, breaking into a sweat from the warm urine.  I didn’t count the mouthfuls but it was double digits.  I was feeling full by the time the dregs of his bladder were stored in my stomach.

“Good job, Piss Drinker,” said Larry setting up and grabbing a handful of my hair to lift me so he could look down at my swollen belly.

“You warmed her up,” said Alice rubbing her hand over my rounded abdomen.  “Now, let’s see if she can handle my fake dick.”

I groaned as I felt the head of the Annihilator Missile stretch the opening of my vagina.  It took determined and painful shoving before the oversized head popped past my opening.  Eight inches was far beyond its normal circumference.  I groaned as I felt the walls of my vagina being forced outward.

“Did I tell you to stop sucking, cunt?” asked Larry as he slapped the side of my face hard.

I went back to work on Larry’s cock as I felt my birth canal expand to accommodate the Missile.  Alice placed her chubby paws on the top of my shoulders for leverage and slowly pulled herself eleven inches deep in my body.  I’m not sure where in my birth canal it landed.  The pressure was intense and I could taste piss that had been forced back up my esophagus.

“She take it all,” asked Larry resting against the couch as I sucked his cock?

“Yes, every fucking inch,” said Alice starting to slam into me.  The Missile was advertised to give a rough ride and the walls of my vagina felt every one of the bumps along the shaft as she rammed it home then pulled back to my opening for another punishing thrust.  It was rubbing me raw.

“Now this is what I call girl fucking.  I’ve got to get me one of these,” said Alice warming to her task.

“Put your fingers in my ass, Marnie,” said Larry.

I wet two fingers then slipped them in his butt as I reached between my legs to work my clit.  My index finger found his prostate and Larry moaned and I tasted a drop of pre come.

The Missile was not about pleasure but pain.   The walls of my vagina were screaming bloody murder each time it traveled deep inside me.  I was almost at the end of my rope when Larry ordered me to climb up on his lap and replace the Missile with his cock.

I squatted over his crotch taking his penis in my hand and guiding it into my opening.  He was roughly the same size as the Missile but the lack of bumps made it a smoother ride as I lowered myself to take him in me.

Larry worked my nipples to help me establish a rhythm of raising and lowering myself.  I contracted my abdominal muscles to squeeze his cock in hopes he would eventually orgasm and my nightmare fuck would end.

“Did your husband take this baby up his ass,” asked Alice pressing the tip of the Missile against my sphincter?

“No, just the smaller dildos, that’s too big for me, Alice.  Please get a smaller one,” I said in the belief she would burst one of my internal organs and I would die.  Somehow the thought she was going to penetrate my rectum with the Missile hadn’t occurred to me.  I almost panicked at the thought of having Larry’s mega cock and the Missile inside me along with a quart of fresh piss.

“Quit your fucking whining before I slap you silly,” said Alice.  Alice may have been chubby but that didn’t mean she wasn’t agile as she balanced on the edge of the couch to acquire the optimum angle for insertion.

It took serious pressure for her to bury the Missile inside my ass.  I was almost out of my mind with pain when I felt the leather crotch of the dildo harness grind against my butt.

“Let’s make this a fuck she never forgets,” said Larry wrapping one hand around my neck and the other my breast then applying pressure.

“Fuck her to death,” said Alice grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking my head back, straining the tendons in my neck.

They didn’t kill me but there were times they came close.  Larry choked me and crushed my boob as Alice sought to break my neck.  All the while, there were two large active poles inside me causing intense pain and pummeling my urine filled belly.  Depending on your point of view it was either the greatest or the worst sex possible.

“Going to blow, bitch,” said Larry pushing me back down on to the floor to where I was face level with his cock.  “Open wide,” he said as he grabbed the sides of my head in a vise like grip.

I opened wide as he forced it past my lips over my tongue and down my throat.  I really hadn’t thought that possible.  It felt like one of the fundamental laws of physics was being violated as his cock head expanded my gullet.  His hips jerked forward further embedding himself until my nose nestled in his pubic hair and my chin pressed into his scrotum.

His penis was in a place none had gone before. I could feel it pressing on my larynx.  My gagging and choking made it better for him.  Relief came with his orgasm.  His body convulsed and I felt something slimy flowing down my esophagus.  It was reminiscent of eating boiled okra, a dish few outside of myself love.

Larry let out a triumphal cry as he avoided my taste buds and went direct.  Relief came when he finally pulled out and whipped his cock in my hair.  But I wasn’t done.

“I need to come,” said Alice handing me the strap on harness.  She’d removed it while Larry was finishing in me.

I was sore in a dozen places and exhausted but I wasn’t willing to pass up a chance for some payback.  “Suck it up, Marnie,” I told myself as I adjusted the waist buckles on the harness to fit my much slimmer body.

Larry wandered off toward the kitchen as I took position between Alice’s heavy thighs and placed the Missile’s tip at the entrance to her vagina.

“Give it to me, Marnie and make it hurt,” said Alice closing her eyes.

I rammed it home with all the force my muscular body could handle as I leaned forward took her fat nipple between my teeth and bit down.

“Bite me harder,” was her response.  So I did.

After a while, she instructed me to switch the Missile to her ass.   I fucked Alice in both holes with all the strength I could muster.  All the while, my incisors were leaving bloody impressions on her boobs.

The problem with trying to hurt her was that she loved being hurt.  Finally, I managed to grind the pad of sharp rubber nodules mounted on the groin of the harness against her clit and the crazy bitch came.  She clutched my head to her breast.  My teeth surrounded her areola and chomped down causing me to taste blood.

I rolled off her to find a fully dressed Agent Tyson standing nearby.

“Get dressed, Alice. We got to haul ass if I expect to make Lindsey’s dinner party,” said Larry.

I lay there on the floor not moving as Alice squirmed back into her tight short skirt.

“See you in a month, Marnie.  And remember, if you don’t turn over Uncle’s twenty million, you going on a trip to the land of the great pyramids,” was Larry’s parting remark.

Surprisingly, Alice leaned down and kissed me goodbye.  I lay there until I heard the front door close then I slowly got to my feet and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6   Very Best Friend Jill

“Marnie, are you okay?” woke me from the deep exhausted sleep I’d fallen into after the FBI departed.  It was accompanied by a loud knocking on the glass slider.

I stumbled out of bed half awake shouting, “Coming, Jill.”  There was a deck right outside my bedroom that looked out on the lake.  As soon as I parted the drapes and slid the slider open, the afternoon sun flooded the room temporarily blinding me.  “Come in,” I said as I rushed back to the bed and collapsed into a ball.

Jill Fraser and her husband Lenard lived next door.  She and I met after we moved in.  We shared an interest in health and fitness and quickly became best friends.  She was a gym bunny like me but a little more laid back, not near as intense.  Last month, we’d gone to Las Vegas together.  Jill helped me with the costume changes during the Fitness America competition.

Lenard also became good friends with my husband.  They golfed and fished together most weekends.  The four of us got together at least once a week either at the club or in each other’s home.  They’d both been there for me after Dan was killed.  I couldn’t have made it through the memorial ceremony without the two of them

“Jesus, Marnie, what did the FBI want,” asked Jill picking up the strap on harness still fitted with the Annihilator Missile?  She hefted the giant dildo looking suitably impressed.  Who wouldn’t be?  I certainly was when Alice was reaming me out with it.  It felt like my eyes bugged out each time she slammed the mushroom head against the wall of my cervix.

“Christ, I should have put those away,” I said glancing around the bedroom.  My collection of sex toys was scattered around the bed.  Dildos, butt plugs, vibrators, and half empty tubes of lubricant were visible.  The weighted alligator nipple clamps were lying on the floor by the bed.  The drawers of my bed table were half open displaying the rest of my inventory.  Jill knows I’m a neat freak.  The bedroom was an uncharacteristic mess due to my bull dyke FBI agent, Alice Magnuson.

“You used these with the FBI,” asked an incredulous Jill noting that the surface of the dildo was coated with dried lubricant.

“Yes, I fucked Alice with that after she fucked me,” I confessed.  I didn’t know what else to say so I curled up in a fetal position and started to cry.  Jill sat down on the bed and took me in her arms and held me as I let go.  Dan’s death, gang rape by Sergei’s goons, and Alice and Larry’s twelve hours of sexual abuse had been too much for me.  I needed a good cry.

I stopped after a while.  Jill went to the kitchen to make us some tea.  It was after she returned with a steaming pot of chamomile that I found the courage to tell her an abbreviated version of what happened.

“Do you believe me,” I asked?  My tale had sounded so incredible in the retelling I had trouble believe it was real.

“Yes, of course, one reason I wanted to talk to you is that I’ve recently learned some things that I felt you should know,” said Jill.

“I thought Dan loved me.  How could he do this and leave me to face the consequences?” I said.

“Twenty million is a lot of money,” said Jill.

“I know.  Last year his business took in less than fifteen million all year.  It’s ridiculous.  I just can’t believe Dan would run off and leave me to be raped and tortured, and maybe killed.”

“Dan wasn’t quite what he seemed,” said Jill.  “That was what I was going to tell you last night.  But just as I was coming out my door, I saw those two FBI agents arrive.  So I decided to wait.  I didn’t know what to think when I woke up this morning and their car was still in your driveway.”

“It was bizarre.  FBI Agent Alice Magnuson is the first woman I’ve had sex with since college,” I said. “She was an out and out dyke with no limits. Her partner, Agent Tyson had the largest cock I’ve ever had inside me.”

“Largest than this,” asked Jill holding up the Annihilator Missile?

“Almost as large,” I said.

“You should have invited me over,” said Jill laughing.

“My pussy is so sore it hurts to walk.  Alice took me anally with that thing while Agent Tyson filled my pussy.  They must have thought I was hollow inside.  I hope my plumbing still works,” I said.  “So what were you going to tell me?”

“Show you is more like it. Let’s got into the entertainment center,” said Jill.   “You’re going to be shocked out of your mind.”

 

***

“This is where I got tysoned,” I said looking at the mess we’d made that morning.  I was facing a good four hours of intense cleaning.  There were semen and lubricant stains on my beautiful leather sofa.  Hardcore porn DVD’s were scattered over the occasional table.  I unconsciously reached down and grabbed my crotch when I recalled how it felt when Agent Tyson plowed his manhood into my vagina.

“Tysoned,” questioned Jill?

“His name was Larry Tyson.  Alice said that if you saw a girl walking bowlegged around the Hover Building in DC, everyone would say she got tysoned,” I said as I plopped down on the sofa.  “I thought his cock head was going to come out my mouth.”

Jill had a thing for large penises.  She claimed her Lenard was a nine by five.  “You should have called me.  You know I love big cocks.  How big was it?”

“I don’t know.  Alice said it was thirteen inches but that sounds unlucky and ridiculous,” I said.

“How thick?” asked Jill.

“I don’t know.  It felt like it was splitting me apart,” I said.  “But having Larry’s cock and the Annihilator Missile in me at the same time was the worst.”

“Taking this baby up the ass would get any girl’s attention,” said Jill brandishing the dildo and harness that for reasons unknown she had brought from the bedroom.  I got the impression she intended to ask me to use it on her at the next opportunity.

I sipped my tea and relaxed as Jill inserted the DVD in the player.  The disc wasn’t labeled meaning it was a home made production.  At this point, I need to clue the reader in on Jill and Lenard’s sex life.

They were into heavy BDSM with lots of what they called, “edge play.”  When Dan and I first met them, they floated the idea of our joining them but Dan and I politely refused.  I might have been interested but Mr. Straight Arrow Daniel Wagner declared there was no way he was willing to engage in wife swapping or any form of fetishism.  Surprisingly, that didn’t prevent us from becoming friends with the Frasers.  We became, in their terms, their very best vanilla friends.

Their finished basement which ran the footprint of the house was a fully equipped dungeon.  They’d taken us on a tour of the place back when they were lobbying for us to join them.  It was impressive with several expensive looking pieces of equipment.  Lenard was a cardiac surgeon and had the wherewithal to purchase whatever caught his fancy.

They often participated in the lifestyle and Jill wasn’t shy about telling me what transpired.  About once a month a dozen cars would arrive at midnight and not leave until dawn.  Jill told me the play parties were very intense and it was a good thing the basement was soundproof.  After one, she showed me the raised welts on her back and butt.  Jill was submissive and Lenard dominant but she said she usually played with other dominants when they were hosting the parties.  She replied, “Of course,” when I asked if play included intercourse.

Once we reached an understanding with Jill and Lenard, that neither sex nor BDSM would be part of our friendship, we settled down into a normal relationship.  Sex became a non issue.  The fact that Jill had hung on to the Annihilator Missile struck me as uncharacteristic.

“This will blow your socks off,” said Jill taking a seat beside me as the screen flickered to life.

“Christ, I don’t believe it,” I said staring at the screen where my leather clad husband had just touched a forked tip cattle prod to the erect penis of a young man.  The crotch of Dan’s leather pants was missing and he had a hard on that was maintained by a cock ring.  A metal cylinder encased his scrotum stretching his balls to the max.  This wasn’t the husband I knew.

Dan laughed as the moved the tip of the prod to different sensitive areas and pressed the button.  Some kind of a shiny metal gag held the man’s mouth open.  I winced as Dan placed the forked tip on the man’s tongue.  He hesitated a moment, asked Lenard to watch, and then released the voltage.  The man screamed as he struggled against the restraints binding him to the St. Andrews’ Cross in the Fraser’s basement dungeon.

“I’ve had that done to me.  You can feel the electricity traveling down your throat all the way to your stomach,” said Jill.

“I would never have thought Dan was capable of such a thing.  He always said love making should be gentle and never involve pain.  Although I begged him, he wouldn’t spank me,” I said.

“Believe it, Marnie, that’s Dan, Lenard, and some woman I don’t know torturing a pair of college kids,” said Jill.

“What woman,” I asked only seeing the four of them.

“You’ll see her in a minute.  She’s operating the camera,” said Jill stating the obvious I had missed.  Maybe the FBI fucked my brains out.

The only female visible was a pretty young blonde bound nude across a whipping bench.  Lenard was applying a whip to her upturned backside which was covered in stripes and bleeding in places.  She screamed like a banshee every time the whip landed.  “College kids,” I asked?  “How did you get the disc?”

“When we got back from Las Vegas, I could tell someone had played in our dungeon. Cleaning up the room is my responsibility. Things hadn’t been put back where I left them.  That made me suspicious but I ignored it.  I suppose I was in denial.  One of our hard and fast rules is that we only play together, no free lancing,” said Jill.  “The thought he’d had some slut over for an S&M session hurt too much to acknowledge.”

“I’m surprised he made a video,” I said recalling that neither couple had expressed interest in video cameras.  In fact, Dan had a strong aversion to having his picture made.

“What finally got me curious was that Lenard accidentally left his credit card bill on his desk, the one I’m never allowed to see.  He’d bought an expensive video camera. I was wondering why he took a course at the community college on video editing and then spent five hundred dollars on video software.  We have a strict no images of any kind rule that applies to all our BDSM parties,” said Jill.  “None of our S&M friends allow their parties to videoed.  It could lead to blackmail.”

“I guess I’m not the only wife whose husband has secrets,” I said hugging Jill as on screen Dan was placing plastic clothes pins down the upper arm and arm pit of the man.  He whimpered each time Dan let the jaws snap shut.  “God that must hurt, how did you find the video?”

“I got it off Lenard’s computer.  He thinks I’m too much of an idiot to do anything technical.  While I was cleaning, I found his password on a Post-it under his desk blotter.  After I signed on, I discovered he never emptied his Waste basket so I recovered a large video file he’d deleted.  After I restored the file, I played it back.  I was hurt he’d played without me, but I was shocked to find Dan with him.  I was going to tell you, but then Dan was killed in the explosion so I waited.  When you told me the FBI thought he might still be alive, I decided to show you the file,” said Jill.

My mind was reeling as I watched my husband who was an avowed homophobe caress the boy’s cock as his tongue teased the piss slit before one more applying the prod.  The boy jerked and screamed but didn’t lose his erection.  Dan alternated between applying the probe to the boy’s cock and balls and providing him head.  There wasn’t any doubt that my gay bashing husband knew how to suck a cock.  “Any idea when this was made?”

“Based on the file creation date, when you and I were in Las Vegas,” said Jill.

“How do you know they’re college kids,” I asked?

“I found Lenard’s email setting up their hookup.  The girl is Sarah Jayne Ryan, a junior at the University of Minnesota Duluth.  The boy is Roger Calvin Ward also a junior.  They aren’t exactly a couple in that they don’t live together or date.  But they get together when older dominants request a pair of submissives.  They belong to American Dungeon Society,” said Jill.

“What’s that,” I asked?

“A nationwide group dedicated to the BDSM lifestyle, Lenard and I are members.  According to the email, they are both Submissives with extremely high pain thresholds who like to be taken to the edge and kept there.  Other than being scarred, crippled, or killed they have no limits,” said Jill.

“They seem so young.  What is Dan doing to him?” I said watching as Dan inserted a flexible probe in the male’s urethra.  The boy screamed and begged as the probe slid into his pee hole.  Based on how far it traveled, one end rested in his bladder.

“It’s called electrical torture.  That’s a sparkler or urethra probe.  It’s not for the squeamish.  I’ve had one in my pee hole and it takes pain to a whole new level.  You feel like your piss in boiling in your bladder when they throw the switch.  Once I foolishly agreed to let one of Lenard’s friends who was into electro dominate me.  The bastard almost drove me insane,” said Jill.

I watched as Dan secured the end of the probe around the under lip of the boy’s cock head.  I also recalled that the rendition DVD the FBI had shown me included electrical torture of a fiendish sort.  Once the sparkler was in place, Dan connected the wires to the control box and pushed a button for a few seconds then let go.  Roger Ward went bonkers.  His entire body contorted in pain then he screamed.  He begged Dan not to torture him again.   I watched as my husband inserted some kind of electrical device in his anus.  Next he separated his testicles and placed electrical stimulators around them.

We watched as the two college kids were wired up and subjected to increasingly powerful shocks.  In spite of what must have been hellish pain, you could tell they were getting off on what was happening. “I’m astounded.  This isn’t the Dan I married,” I said watching Lenard and Dan torture those college kids, not that they didn’t ask for it.   The boy never lost his erection and the girl’s pussy was dripping.

“Lenard violated a rule about not playing without me knowing.  It bothers the shit out of me that I don’t know who the brunette is operating the camera.  Do you recognize her?” said Jill.

“No, I’ve never seen her before,” I said.  The pain part of the session was apparently over.  The camera was no longer moving.  There were five people on a mat having sex.  The two college kids and the person Jill identified as the camerawoman.  She was a lean brunette with a head of long black curls and a very good figure.  She was wearing a strap on she was pounding into Dan’s ass while he sodomised the boy.

“Surprised,” asked Jill when the DVD ended.

“Stunned is more accurate.  I’ve told you that Dan wasn’t much into sex although he did ask me to buy that strap on and butt fuck him”

“He took this up the ass,” asked Jill holding up the Annihilator?

“No, I used a long thin dildo when I was fucking him,” I said.  “As soon as he got off, he curled up and went to sleep leaving me to get myself off.”

“And I thought you guys were so straight and boring.  I mean sexually, of course,” said Jill.

“With me, Dan was straight eight and very verbal about it.  Watching him suck cock makes me wonder if he has an evil twin,” I said.

“Asking your wife to give it to you with a strap on is not exactly straight. Most people would consider it a little kinky,” said Jill looking at the Annihilator in a fashion that made me think she was about to suggest I use it on her.

“He got off big time when I sodomised him,” I said.

“Listening to your rape stories and watching the DVD has got me worked up,” said Jill before turning my head toward her and kissing me softly.

I figured what the hell and held the kiss adding a little tongue.  The idea of lesbian sex with Jill struck me as long overdue.  I’d been a good girl for my marriage’s sake.  Apparently, while I was following my marriage vows, Dan was off sucking dicks, fucking whores and practicing BDSM.  I’d been gullible and stupid.  He’d left me to face a very dangerous situation.

Just as Jill and I were getting it on, I heard a noise from the back of the house then I heard Lenard shout, “Jill, Marnie, you here?”

“Please, he can’t know we’ve got the DVD.  He’d kill me if he caught me spying on him,” said Jill turning off the DVD player.  She looked desperate making me question her relationship with her husband.  Playing submissive once a month is one thing.  Being scared shitless is another.

I opened the DVD carrier, grabbed the disc, and pushed it under the couch right before Lenard rounded the corner.

“What are you girls up to,” asked Lenard noting the presence of the Annihilator Missile on the coffee table?

“Nothing,” said Jill looking nervous, like she was ready to blurt out the truth.

I made a decision to help her out.  Jill had always been a loyal friend and she needed my help.  “Nothing other than being horny as hell,” I said.

“I can help you out there.  Scoot over,” said Lenard taking a seat between us.  “Wow, what’s this for?” asked Lenard picking up the Annihilator.

“It’s a marital aid,” I said trying to look innocent as I placed my hand on his thigh.

“Were you going to use it on Jill,” asked Lenard.

“She certainly was,” said Jill jumping into the conversation.

“I’d want to see that.  Marnie, I always figured you for a dominant.  Am I right?” said Lenard.

“Possibly, but I’m not sure,” I said.

“Would you like to find out,” asked Lenard.

“Yes,” I said.

“What do you say the three of us go next door and let your dark side emerge,” said Lenard?

“Who will be the submissive,” I asked?

“That’s Jill’s job.  I can’t wait to see you fuck her with this baby,” said Lenard brandishing the Annihilator.

***

“Bring your arm all the way back then come forward like this,” said Lenard demonstrating how to apply a flexible bamboo cane to Jill’s backside.  I’d already tried four different floggers, a bullwhip, and two types of tawses including an antique two tailed model from Scotland that set Jill on fire.

Jill was vertically restrained in a square frame.  Her position resembled the famous drawing by Leonardo da Vinci. She was stretched tight.  Her feet barely reached the floor.

My favorite was the cane but Lenard’s preference was for a flogger made from kangaroo leather that he had purchased in Brisbane.

“It’s the knots on the tips that made it special,” said Lenard as he applied the flogger to his wife’s bleeding backside.  He demonstrated the skin removing capability of Turks head knots along with the factoid they were first employed by the Ottomans during their siege of Vienna in 1529.  Each night during the siege, Suleiman the Magnificent positioned noble Viennese captives within earshot of the city’s defenders and whipped them to death using flogger tipped with those knots.  Knowing something of the history enriches the experience.  I peeled several patches of skin off Jill’s torso with the cruel whip.

Her posterior from her knee pits to her shoulders was covered in welts most of which were put there by yours truly.  Lenard had been right.  I had a dominant side.  He kept proving it to me by sticking his fingers into my dripping wet pussy then transferring them to my mouth.  Each time I greedily licked off my cunt juice.  Jill had been right he had a huge cock and I was anxious for him to fuck me.

After watching the DVD of Dan, I was up for anything.  Once we had a very willing Jill in restraints we began with her breasts.

Lenard could teach Agent Magnuson about how to hurt a woman’s boobs.  As soon as we got Jill stretched like a rubber band, he produced a pair of suction cups and hand pump.  He showed me how to use lubricant to create a vacuum seal over the areola then pump the flesh into the cup.  Based on Jill’s loud whimpers, she didn’t find that pain free.  Once her nipples were an inch long, he released the vacuum, grabbed the tip in a forceps and twisted until it resembled a corkscrew.  But it was what came next that really got Jill’s attention.  Alligator clamps with seriously sharp teeth were poised around the spiraled flesh.

“Tell me you want the clamps, Cunt,” asked Lenard taking her nipple for another half turn as he pulled it further out?

The skin was stretched so tight it appeared he was going to rip her nipple off.  Lenard had told me that getting the submissive to acquiesce in her torture was important psychologically.  By agreeing to the pain, the slave blames herself.

“Please no, Lenard, it hurts too much,” said Jill her eyes glistening with moisture.

He slapped her so hard her head snapped to one side.  Saliva sprayed from her lips.

“What do you say now, Cunt,” asked Lenard threatening to slap her again?

“Please, Lenard, put them on my tits.  I deserve it,” said Jill between sobs.

Lenard let me do the other nipple.  My heart beat faster and my breathe labored as Jill reacted to the pain I was causing her.  Once we applied the clamps, we added weights.  Two kilograms per tit stretched her boobs toward the floor.  We suctioned her clit until it looked like a boy’s dick.  It must have been a good three inches.  A twist to the ballooned flesh with a forceps drug an incredibly wail of pain from Jill.  Seconds later that was surpassed when I let the jagged teeth of an oversized alligator clamp bite on the spiraled nerve ganglia.  A kilogram of gravity stretched her most sensitive fresh toward the floor.

The woman was really hurting and I couldn’t keep from playing with my pussy.  Each time I slapped my open palm across my vulva, I climaxed.

“Let me show you the Lennie mask.  I invented this in medical school,” said Lenard pulling a contraption out of a cabinet.   It looked complicated.

“How does it work,” I asked?

“First pee in this then spit in it,” said Lenard handing me an empty beaker I proceeded to fill with strong yellow.  I added a nice gob of spit.

As I watched Lenard tightly buckle a webbing of straps over Jill’s head, I poured the contents of the beaker into an IV bag Lenard handed me.

“It tightens in the back.  Give it a couple of turns,” said Lenard showing me the red know located at the back of her head.

It was a fiendishly clever torture device.  The straps crisscrossed Jill’s face cutting into the flesh.  Her eyes bugged out.  Hooks inserted in her nostrils pulled them painfully toward her fore head.  There was a strange looking gag in her mouth that Lenard proceeded to pump up until Jill looked like a squirrel that had been out on a successful nut gathering foray.  Finally, Lenard connected up the IV bag to an opening in the gag and twisted a valve allowing my urine and spit cocktail to slowly seep into her mouth.

“It’s keep her hydrated while we whip her,” said Lenard stepping back to admire his handwork.   “Back in med school, I’d throw in a little shit and run the concoction through a blender.  We had this resident who was always giving us a hard time and telling the staff when we fucked up.  The last night of internship, we got her drunk, tied her to a table in OR, and left her to slowly drink a shit cocktail.  It was fucking awesome.”

By the time, we finished whipping Jill; my pussy was so hot I couldn’t keep my hands off.  I could get off by running one hand over her tortured flesh as the other worked my clit.  Lenard had been right.  I was a dominant who got off causing other’s pain.

I’d sensed that when I was working on Alice.  But she was so accepting of her brutal dildo fucking, my concentration wandered.

“Let’s untie the bitch and fuck the shit out of her,” said Lenard handing me the strap on harness.

There was a mat at one end of the dungeon.   Lenard placed two Kelly hemostats on Jill’s nipples and dragged her screaming across the room.  He made her kneel and suck his cock.  Then she got to eat my pussy.

The final part was insane.  Jill’s pussy was impaled on top of Lenard’s nine inches.  I lubricated her anus and then forced the Annihilator Missile up her bowels.  I thought she was having a fit as inch by inch I buried the dildo.  After a while, Lenard and I changed positions and holes.

After we finished, the three of us went upstairs and had a glass of wine and some appetizers.  Then we got in bed.  Over the next twelve hours, we three fucked in every possible combination.  It was hot sweaty sex that only ended when exhaustion set in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7   Tom Contacts Me

“We need to talk, Mrs. Wagner,” said the voice on my cell phone.  Caller ID was blocked.  I’d just spent two unsuccessful hours looking through Dan’s clothes for something that would tell me where he and twenty million dollars had run off to.  I’d searched every pocket looking for a clue with nothing to show for my efforts.

“Who is this,” I asked?

“A friend of Dan’s,” said the voice.

“Dan was killed in a boating accident,” I said.

“Yeah, and I’m the Easter Bunny.”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Like I said, we need to talk.  I know things about Dan and his business that should interest you,” said the voice.  “They concern a large amount of missing money.”

“What kind of things?” I asked.

“Not over the phone,” said the voice.  “We need to meet.”

“I’m not sure,” I said realizing how my last two meetings on the topic of Dan’s disappearance had turned out.

“Don’t worry.  I’m harmless.  But if you’re feeling skittish and you probably should be, we can make it a public place.”

“All right, where” I asked?  I wasn’t getting anywhere finding Dan on my own.

“You know the Satin Doll on Wynona?” asked the voice.

“Isn’t that a strip club?”

“Yes, best one in the city, biggest tits and wettest pussies,” said the voice.

It didn’t sound like my kind of place, but it was public and had bouncers who would intervene if things got rough.  “All right, when?”

“Say an hour from now.”

“How will I recognize you?”

“I’ll find you. Dan showed me pictures of you.  You got one damn fine body, Marnie,” said the voice.

After I ended the call I wondered what pictures of me Dan had shown him.  There were hundreds of images of me competing in Fitness America events.  And I wouldn’t be wearing much.  Dan had also taken nude shots of me on our honeymoon in Aruba.  He’d promised never to show them to anyone, but he’d also promised to never leave my side.

Ninety minutes later, I was seated at the Satin Doll’s oval bar.  It was a Monday night and the place wasn’t crowded.  I wasn’t new to that type of establishment although it had been a while.  I’d found myself in similar places when I was in the Corps.  My female Marines and I tagged along to establish our bona fides as members of the team.  The only problem was that after your Marine buddies had gotten horny watching the strippers, you were the one they took back to the barracks for a gang bang.  Professionally, it was kind of demeaning but the sex was usually terrific and the Technical Sergeant would give us soldier whores the day off to rest.  My pussy always needed it.

A red headed dancer with fake tits and enough tattoos to make a Yakuza jealous was providing me a gynecological view of her modified vagina.  It was missing the outer labia, most of the inner and the surgeon’s scalpel had freed her clit from the surrounding tissue so it hung out like a tiny dick.  I found myself wondering what it would be like to have my vulva modified like hers and how it would feel to have a man sucking on my detached clit.

I decided the events of the last two weeks had addled my brain and pushed those thoughts out of my head.  I handed her a five for her efforts.  I’d already been approached twice by guys wanting to buy me a drink.  I’d brushed them off with, “No thanks, I’m waiting for my husband.”

I glanced at my watch and made a decision to give my caller fifteen more minutes before I split.

“Can I buy you a drink,” asked the guy taking a seat beside me.

“I’m waiting for my husband,” I said turning toward the man.  He looked to be in his late thirties with brown hair and eyes.  He was my type, lean and in shape.  He was wearing jeans, an open collar white dress shirt and a blue blazer.  Appearance wise, he was a step up from the blue collar types who made up most of the patrons.

“I don’t think Danny Boy’s going to show, Marnie.”

“You’re late.  I was about to leave,” I said.

“Had to make sure you weren’t followed.  I’m Tom by the way.”

That was cause for him to shake my hand.  He held it a little longer than he should have.  “Does Tom have a last name?” I asked.

“Yeah, several of them, let’s go with Snyder, Tom Snyder, like the newscaster.”

“Where is my husband?” I asked.

“I thought maybe you would know the answer to that,” said Tom.  “He owes me a lot of money.”

“Not a clue, I thought he was killed in the explosion but apparently, that’s a minority view.”

“Here, Rita,” said Tom handing the red head a bill.  “How’s it shaking, baby?”

“Slow, who’s the girl, Tom?” asked Rita as she tucked the five into her garter.

“I forgot my manners.  Rita, this is Marnie.  Marnie, Rita,” said Tom.

“Hello, Rita,” I said beginning to wonder if meeting Tom was a waste of time.

“Hi, Marnie, your first time here, haven’t seen you around,” asked Rita?

“Yes, my first time,” I said.

“Rita likes girls. Don’t you, Rita?” said Tom.

“I like it all, baby,” said Rita dancing closer.  The distance from her pussy to my face was less than six inches.  The aroma of her pussy filled my nostrils and I fought back the effect of her pheromones.

“How about we do a threesome at my place when you get off, Rita,” asked Tom?

“Sure,” said Rita before dancing over to a customer who had just sat down.

“Look, Tom, I came here because you said you had some information about Dan.  I don’t intend to have sex with you or your friend,” I said.

“Don’t be that way, Marnie.  You can be my partner just like Dan was.  Actually we were more than just business associates,” said Tom placing his hand on top of my bare thigh.  I had foolishly worn one of my shorter skirts thinking that showing a little skin would loosen his tongue.

“Forget it,” I said starting to climb off the bar stool.

“Silver, tons of it, worth millions,” said Tom in a low voice.

That caused me to stop.  I was facing much worse than a groping from two other sources.  I resumed my seat even though Tom’s hand moved up a couple of inches.  Being felt up was a small price to pay if it kept Sergei’s goons and the FBI from torturing me to death.

Dan’s business did recover small amounts of silver.  MRI had a large electric furnace designed to extract silver from other metals and make it into small ingots.  He’d had one made into a necklace for me on our first anniversary.  Still, Dan was lucky to recover a few ounces a week.  Tons seemed beyond the realm of possibility.

“That got your interest, didn’t it,” said Tom sliding his hand along the inside of my bare thigh right up to where the material covered my crotch.  The tips of his fingers traced my slit causing my Bartholin glands to activate.

I was willing to allow Tom to feel me up if he told me something useful.  “Where would Dan get such large quantities of silver?”

“The US government,” said Tom as his fingers pushed aside the narrow band of material covering my vagina.  I was wearing a panty designed to permit peeing or fucking without removal.  I didn’t plan it that way.  Everybody wore them these days.

It was a thong, the kind designed to be pushed aside when things get serious. The result was predictable.  I moved slightly to press my vulva against his hand.  If fucking Tom would help me stay alive, I was willing.  I didn’t owe my husband if he was still alive a damn thing.

“MRI had contracts with Uncle Sam but they yield small amounts,” I said with the intention of combining information gathering with sexual pleasure.

“True, ever hear of the Vietnam War,” asked Tom continuing to run his fingers over my damp crotch.  His dexterity allowed him to ease the material completely to one side so he was touching bare flesh.  Rita’s wasn’t the only pussy smell in the room.

It was becoming difficult to control my libido even in a public place.  I’d been getting a lot of sex lately and far from satiating me, it had increased my appetite.  “Yes, I’m not an idiot.”

“During the war, the US took millions of feet of reconnaissance photography.  Every time a plane dropped a bomb or fired a missile, the cameras filmed automatically.  And we’re not talking about eight or sixteen millimeter film.  It was mainly one hundred sixty millimeter film.  Most of it is still stored in a giant underground warehouse on Hickam Air Force Base in Honolulu,” said Tom whose little finger was activating the nerve endings that surrounded the opening to my vagina.  My Bartholin glands kicked in.  He got his finger past the opening and it slide in me.  Not moaning was taking every ounce of my self control.  I admit semi-public sex turns me on.

“Go on,” I said not understanding how reconnaissance film from a war over half a century ago was relevant.

“You must have been giving blow jobs during chemistry class.  Photographic film contains silver halide that’s what makes it light sensitive.  Of course, everything’s digital now days and Uncle Sam’s reconnaissance birds produce DVDs not film.”

“How do you extract the silver,” I asked stifling a moan as the first joint of Tom’s index finger entered my vagina?  His thumb was windshield wiping my clit.  I was fighting a loosing game with my lust.  Still, I was finding out things I didn’t know and maybe they would help me find Dan and the money.  I glanced nervously around the bar.  A couple of biker types were watching Tom finger fuck me.  I made the mistake of smiling at the one who was grabbing at his crotch.

“That big McKesson furnace was built to do just that,” said Tom.  “In fact, the one at MRI was installed at Offutt Air Base outside Omaha to recover silver from film taken by SAC.  When the Air Force declared it surplus, I helped Dan pick it up for next to nothing.”

I was about to ask another question when I felt a callused hand on my thigh.  It was one of the bikers.  They looked a lot bigger and meaner close up.  His buddy was standing beside him.

“Let’s go in back and shoot some pool,” said the biker enveloping me in beer breath.

“No thank you,” I said putting his hand on his wrist to stop it from moving upward.

“Don’t be that way.  Lonnie and I will show you a good time.”

I pictured their idea of a good time as being spread out on the pool table getting the shit raped out of me.  A pair of pliers dangled from his wide belt. Bikers carry those to encourage cooperation or to liven up the sex.  I’d heard tales of girls who initially refused bikers quickly finding their way to an enthusiastic yes when pliers were applied to their nipples or clit.  They can also be used to extract a girl’s front teeth if she’s not willing to suck their dick.

“We better go,” said Tom throwing a twenty on the bar.  He’d obviously chosen flight over fight and I didn’t blame him.

“Don’t be an asshole, Buddy. She looks like a crowd pleaser.  You’ve been finger fucking her for the last five minutes,” said the biker named Lonnie blocking the exit.

“You can screw her after my brother and I loosen her up for you,” said the other biker pushing his hand all the way to my crotch then forcing a thick greasy finger inside my vagina.

An involuntary muscle spasm contracted my vagina around his finger.  I’m not a whore but my body is.

The biker took that as encouragement.  “She’s so fucking ready.  Aren’t you, Slut?”

“No,” I managed to choke out.

“Is there a problem here, Tom,” asked the bouncer who had finally showed up.  He was huge, well over six feet and three hundred pounds.

There was a tense moment before Tom said, “No problem, Harry, we’re just getting ready to leave.”

“Next time, Slut,” said the biker backing his finger out of my pussy and his hand out of my skirt.  He placed the finger in his mouth and sucked it.

“Place is normally not like that,” said Tom as we walked quickly toward his car.  “I’ve got to find a new place to drink.”

“Where are we going,” I asked when we reached his bright red Cadillac CTS?  I wasn’t exactly anxious to get in a car with Tom.

“Get in.  We can talk at my place,” said Tom.

I hesitated thinking I should drive my car and follow him.  But when I looked back toward the club entrance where I was parked, I saw the two bikers emerge and look my way.  I hopped in the Cadillac and yelled, “Let’s go.”

“I only live a few miles away.  I’ll bring you back to your car in the morning,” said Tom.

Back in the morning meant I was spending the night with him.  Why not I asked myself?  He wasn’t bad looking and knew things I needed to know.  “All right,” I said as I found the control that tilted my seat back to where I was nearly horizontal.  I kicked off my shoes, placed my feet on the dash with my legs spread as I hiked up my skirt and spread my legs.  “Tell me all you know and you can do what you want with me.”

“It’s a deal,” said Tom placing his hand on my bare wet sex.

I closed my eyes and let him finger me as we drove.  Too soon, the car slipped into a garage and stopped.  As the garage door closed, Tom turned toward me and took me in his arms.  As we kissed he undid a couple of my buttons then reached in for a tit.   I hadn’t fucked in a car since high school other than a Humvee.   Tom pushed his seat control and his seat moved back.

Somehow in the confined quarters I managed to unzip his pants and remove a sizeable cock that found its way to my lips in an instant.  The head was smeared with semen.  Tasting pre come has always gotten me hot.  Tom managed to reach over my back and place the pad of his index finger on my anus.  That’s another erogenous zone that I can never resist.  I pressed back so he sunk in to the first knuckle, my way of signaling that anal was welcomed.

It didn’t take long until Tom’s cock was hard enough to strike a match on.  I swung my leg over to straddle him while guiding his penis into my vagina.  It was a technique I learned my freshmen year in high school.

“How did you persuade Uncle Sam to sell you all that silver,” I asked rocking back and forth, pressing my clit against his groin.

“Fuck, Dan said you were a nymphomaniac who never got enough peter.  They didn’t know they were selling it.  We had a guy in the warehouse who falsified the bill of lading.  It shipped as airplane electronics.  Dan cheated him too, not that it matters now,” said Tom.

“Why doesn’t it matter,” I asked opening my blouse and pushing my bra down.  I forced a boob into Tom’s mouth and he obligingly sucked hard on my nipple.

“Cops found Wayne’s body three days ago.  The corner said he’s been tortured for days plus he was missing his nuts,” said Tom working my boobs while I rode his cock.

“They castrated him,” I asked wondering if Sergei’s goons were responsible.

“After they spent a couple of days twisting his balls, they hammered them flat as pancakes,” said Tom biting down hard on my nipple.

“Harder,” I hissed.  The pain got me off and my vaginal contractions brought Tom to a finish.

“Let’s go inside and fuck some more,” said Tom once we caught our breath.

I’d kept my eyes closed on the drive over, better to enjoy a good finger fucking.  The modern well furnished house that seemed suited to a middle class family struck me as odd for someone like Tom.  As we walked into a kitchen equipped with first class appliances, I half expected a wife and two kids to appear and greet us.

“This way,” said Tom leading me upstairs to the master bedroom suite.

The bedroom was clean and neat, again not something I expected.  I recognized a stack of photos sitting on the dresser.  Apparently, Dan had chosen to share them with his buddy.

“Dan showed you these,” I asked holding up a picture of me sitting on a piece of driftwood in Aruba?  It was taken at a private island owned by the hotel.  It was the only place on the island where total nudity was allowed.  I’d talked a reluctant Dan into taking me back behind a dune and fucking me.  In return, I’d agreed he could take nude photos.

My legs were spread open and the forked fingers of my right hand parted my labia.  In the photo, my vagina was a dark circle with a thin trail of semen connecting it with my anus.  It wasn’t the kind of picture, a young bride is proud of and I’d forgotten about it.  The others were more of the same.  We’d been drinking and I was high enough to pose with my finger in my ass and my tongue stuck out.

“Yes, he was proud of the way you looked,” said Tom starting to undress.  “Plus he knew they would turn me on.”

I asked a question although I knew the answer from Jill’s DVD.  “Why did he want to turn you on?”

“So I would fuck him in the ass.  Dan was queer although he kept saying he was bi.  But Danny Boy preferred cock to pussy, especially boy cock,” said Tom standing by the bed stroking his cock.

“So tell me what happened in the lake.  What caused the explosion?” I asked once I was in Tom’s embrace and my hand was slowly working his manhood.

“Not certain, but I think Dan double crossed or triple crossed everyone involved including you.  We’d recovered a little over sixty million dollars in pure silver but the fence was only offering thirty cents on the dollar,” said Tom as he pushed me down on the bed.  “That pissed Dan off.  He thought we should get more.  I think blowing everyone up and keeping the silver and the money was his solution.”

“Sixty million,” I said surprised I hadn’t heard that figure before.  “Why did you have to use a fence?”

“Put this under your butt,” said Tom handing me a pillow.  “Unless you are a licensed silver trader you can’t walk up to the Chicago Mercantile Exchange and say you want to sell several thousand troy ounces without attracting attention.”

“Would the FBI become involved if they suspected someone was stealing film and converting it to silver,” I asked lifting my hips and wedging the pillow underneath me.

“Yes, so would the Treasury and even Homeland Security since the explosion happened in the middle of a lake which happens to be an international boundary.  Has the FBI been around to see you?” asked Tom taking a position between my outstretched legs.

“Yes, they don’t believe Dan was killed either.  Who were the other men on the boat?” I said placing my hands on the back of my thighs and pulling them toward me.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think they were there to exchange twenty million in cash for sixty million in silver.  Those guys were connected to the Russian mob.  That means their bosses don’t have a problem with torture and murder if you fuck with then.  They’re probably the ones who worked on Wayne, the poor bastard.  You’re nice and creamy, just the way I like my pussy.”

I moaned as Tom’s tongue got busy on my vulva. It didn’t take long before I entered the multi-orgasmic state.  And Tom kept me there for what seemed like forever.  His fingers teased my sphincter open.  Some men have a knack for anilingus and cunnilingus and Tom was one of them.  He sensed my desire for anal and kept adding fingers until his four digits stretched me to the max.

By the time, he bent me double and stuck his cock in me I was begging to be fucked.  We went at it in different positions until he bent me in the shape of a hair pin and in a blur of hard pounding pumped a second load in my cunt.  We were out of breath and covered in sweat when he rolled off.

We took a break.  He managed to come up with a decent chardonnay from the kitchen.  I was seated between his legs sipping my wine and idly stroking his limp cock when I got around to the question of the utmost importance.  “So where is Dan now?”

“My guess would be Canada.  He’s from there and still had a Canadian passport,” said Tom.

If true that was a shocker.  “He told me he was born in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.”

“Dan was a con man from Toronto.  You can trust me on that,” said Tom rolling over on his belly. “I’m in the mood for hole play.  According to Dan you were into that.”

Apparently, our sex life was something Dan liked to talk about.  I’d sucked and licked Dan’s ass from the first time we had sex.  Was that the reason he married me?  I parted Tom’s butt cheeks and inhaled the funky odor of his sphincter then swiped my tongue over the wrinkled flesh.  I suppose I do get off making mouth love to a man’s ass.  Tom’s muscular buttocks contracted at my touch so I delivered a hard slap to relax them.  His ground his hard cock against the mattress.

“Your husband loved to rim my ass.   I sat in a rim seat and let him work on me,” said Tom between moans.  “And a couple of times, he fucked me; but not near as many times as I fucked him.”

Tom came up on all his knees and elbows so I could play his Rusty Trombone.

“You into pig play,” asked Tom flexing his sphincter.

“Sure, what do you want,” I asked.  Sexually, there wasn’t much this ex Marine hadn’t done.   The Corps isn’t for candy asses.

He removed a tube of lubricant from the night stand and handed it to me.  “Use this.  Once you got in hand in take it out and stick it in my mouth.”

He wasn’t that tight and the lubricant was designed for deep anal penetration.  I quickly progressed from one finger to four occasionally reaching over his shoulder so he could suck and lick my stained fingers.  I gave him a Dirty Sanchez.  The air filled with the smell of fresh shit.  “You do this with Dan,” I asked?

“Yes, but he was out of my league.  Dan was into bizarre sex: S&M. electricity, dogs, piss and even scat.  I’ve got my limits,” said Tom groaning as I forced my hand past his sphincter.  I jerked his cock and fisted his ass until he had another idea.

“Get on your hands and knees, Slut.  I’m going to fuck you in the ass just like I did your husband,” said Tom.

Tom used his fingers to loosen me up.  It felt good the way he pulled and stretched my anus.  After I relaxed, he crouched over my upturned ass and went deep in one painful movement.  He fucked me hard with one hand embedded in my hair and the other painfully working my nipple.  He knew how to make a girl squirm in a good way.

“Fuck my ass,” I screamed as I spanked my pussy to get off.  I hadn’t expected to engage in anal intercourse that night.  My rectum hadn’t been douched.  In a minute his nasty fingers were in my mouth and I was wearing my own Dirty Sanchez.  Then he added a wrinkle.

“Turn around and suck my cock, you shit licking whore,” said Tom.

I was no stranger to ass to mouth.  He held my head in his hands as he slammed his scat coated cock into my throat.   This was hard core pig sex and I got off on it.  I went multi-orgasmic and stayed there as he alternated between my asshole and my mouth.  At the end, he squirted his load all over my face.

We took a shower after that.  I helped him change the sheets.  I even put the stained sheets in the wash and started the washer, very domestic.  We got back in bed and spooned.  I thought we’d rest a while, maybe have more sex then he’d take me back to my car.  I learned how wrong I was when the lights came on and I saw the two bikers from the Satin Doll standing in the bedroom doorway.

“You two took your fucking time getting here,” said Tom getting out of bed.

“You said you wanted to fuck her so we didn’t rush.  Didn’t he say that, Earl?” said Lonnie.

“That’s what he said, Lonnie.  He said he wanted to fuck her ass just like he did her hubby,” said the other biker.

“Take her down to the basement.  You two can amuse yourself with her until Rita gets here,” said Tom.

“Why are you doing this, Tom?  I told you everything,” I said standing between Lonnie and Earl.  Earl’s hands were roaming my tits.

“I can think of at least two reasons.  The first is that you know more than you’re telling us.  The second is that you are standing in for that bastard of a husband of yours.  If that double crossing son of a bitch was here, he’d be getting everything you’re going to get plus a whole lot more,” said Tom.

Chapter 8 Things Get Rough

“You don’t need to hurt me.  I’ll fuck your brains out,” I offered as Lonnie and Earl marched me down the basement stairs.  I meant it too.  Avoiding another beating was priority one even if it meant catering to the sexual whims of a pair of cretins.

“But we get our kicks hurting sluts like you,” said Lonnie slamming his fist into my gut.  I doubled over with pain and would have tumbled down the stairs except they were holding me under my armpits.   They carried me the rest of the day ddown the rest of the steps then dumped me on the floor.

I didn’t straighten up until they attached leather cuffs to my wrists and hung me from the ceiling.  A chain connected the cuffs.  Earl lifted me so Lonnie could loop the chain over a hook in a an exposed floor joist.  When Earl released me, I felt a good foot almost jerking my shoulders out of their sockets.  My toes barely brushed the floor.  The pain in my arms was major.

“Please guys, anything, just name it, oral, anal, we can get kinky.  I love to rim butt,” I said so so desperate to avoid more torture I offered to stick my tongue up their dirty ass.

“Open wide, bitch,” said Lonnie placing a red ball gag against my lips.

If I was gagged, I couldn’t beg them not to hurt me so I resisted by clinching my teeth shit.  That turned out to be a bad idea.

All of a sudden, my right nipple was in the jaws of a pair of household pliers.  When I screamed in pain, Lonnie pushed the rubber ball in my mouth.  He tightened the buckle behind my head so tight the leather strap cut into the corners of my mouth.  When he saw the gag was in place, he celebrated with another gut punch.  My God that hurt.  Being hammered in the abdomen whenile you are stretched out by your own weight hurts more.  I wanted to puke but decided thatit was a bad idea since I was gagged.  I choked it back.

Earl swung me back and forth using the pliers.  I was just far enough off the floor I couldn’t stop him.  The pain in my boob was unbearable.  From the looks of their faces, I could tell my pain was their pleasure.

After he swung me a few times using my knocker for leverage, he let me go.  But not before he bent over and bit the hell out of my boob.  There were bloody teeth marks in my areola.  I was so terrified and in such pain, I was trembling.

“Any more shit out of you and I’ll bite your tit off and eat it,” said Earl.

“I’ll do the other one,” said Lonnie catching the end of my undamaged boob in his teeth and biting down hard.   His teeth sunk into my flesh and I honestly though he was going to chow down on me; but after a long moment of terrible pain he let go and smiled at me with bloodstained teeth.

They left me alone for a minute.  While the two were searching through a cabinet behind me, I had a chance to look around.  It was a downscale version of Jill and Lenard’s basement play space.  The basement was unfinished with a concrete floor, and the walls were the foundation’s cinder blocks.  It looked and smelled like a basement.  There were several homemade benches and tables placed around the room.  A well worn doctor’s examination table was nearby.  Ominously, the stirrups were spread wide at a steep upward angle.  Speculums of several shapes and sizes were on a near by table.  Nothing looked very antiseptic.  Even scarier was that there were what appeared to be blood stains on the floor.  The odd thought occurred to me that I had come down in the world of torture chambers.

“These look like fun,something Marnie would enjoy,” said Earl appearing from behind me holding a pair of weighted nipple clamps.

They looked sinister and evil to me, far more vicious than the ones sold online to couples interested in experimenting with S&M.  The teeth in the alligator clamp were pointed and overcoming their spring required a strong digital effort on Earl’s part making me wonder if they would chop my nipples off.

“Let me see,” said Lonnie examining the cylindrical weight.  “It says 2 kg.  What the fuck does that mean?”

“Feels like about five pounds, said Earl hefting the weight obviously not familiar with the metric system.

I cringed as Lonnie held the alligator clamp in front of my face opening the jaws and allowing them to snap shut a couple of times.  “Baby, you are going to get off wearing these.”

“I know how to make it worse,” said Earl grabbing my left nipple in his pliers.  I was screaming into the gag as he pulled me off my feet.  When the flesh was a good two inches long, he twisted the pliers full circle then allowed the open alligator clamp to snap shut around the base of my bud.  I went nuts at the pain.  I tried to shake it off but that only made it worse as my frantic movements caused the weight to swunging painfully back and forth elongating my boob.

“I think the cunt really enjoyed that.  Let me do the other one,” said Lonnie applying his pliers to my other breast.

It was a searing pain that made me gasp for air, not easy to do with a ball gag blocking your wind.  My boobs felt like something was burning the ends off with a blowtorch.

“I found a bigger one for her pussy and it’s a humdinger,” said Earl holding up an even nastier looking alligator clamp.  The weight looked twice as heavy as the others and the alligator part was two inches long.

Lonnie heldforced my legs apart as Earl captured my clit in his pliers and proved it could stretch a couple of inches.  He lifted me off the ground by the thin tendril of flesh.  When he let those cruel teeth snapped shut on that nerve rich piecearea of flesh I almost went out of my mind.  The bastard held the weight for a few seconds before he let it drop.  I was surprised it didn’t rip my clit off.

“Before we’re done here, we’ll make you like one of those lesbian bitches who cut off their tits and clits,” said Lonnie taking hold of the nipple clamps and applying additional pressure.  Blood spurted out on his fingers as the razor like teeth broke my flesh.

The pain was like a white hot line through my brain.  It closed out all my other senses.  It had only lessened a little when my back exploded in agony.  I couldn’t see behind me but it must have been Lonnie because Earl appeared at my front whipping the air with a flexible cane.  After a couple of trial runs, he landed a solid blow on my abdomen.  My next tribulationordeal consisted of being caned by the pair.

I’m not sure how long they whipped me.  It felt like forever but I don’t think I could have lived through more than a half hour.  They worked up and down my body countless times.  My flesh was on fire from my calves to the top of my shoulder blades.

The bastards laughed and joked as they discussed where theyat body part they were going to cane next.  They made a game out of landing simultaneously on my armpits.   If you don’t think that’s a sensitive area, buy your best friend a five feet length of green bamboo and ask him to wail the daylights out of one pit.  The agony is off the charts.  My armpits were so swollen the next day I couldn’t hold my arms down my side.

Several times, Earl angled the cane so it landed directly on my vagina just as Lonnie caned the inside of my butt cheeks. My clit and anus went numb, and I worried itthey would never regain feeling.  My greatest fear was that I had become a fem nullo, incapable of orgasm.    The clamp on my clitoris was tearing the flesh as the weight reacted to gravity.  Blood was trickling down onto my thighs.

Just when I started wishing they would kill me and end my agony, they stopped and took me down.  Unable to stand, I slumped to the floor and lay there unmoving.  Every inch of my body screamed with pain.

My respite was short lived as Earl appeared with a combination gag and funnel whose function was easy to guess.

“Look what I found,” said Earl holding up the contraption.  “You feel like taking a piss, Lonnie?”

“I can always drain my lizard,” said Lonnie unbuckling the ball gag and replacing it with the funnel gag.  It was rubber and tasted of neoprene.  There was also the slight aroma of urine.  I wasn’t the first to be forced to swallow pee with that device.  Still, I was too exhausted and beaten to resist.

The part that went in my mouth worked like a teeth protector athletes wear.  The important difference was that the tube ended an inch inside on my tongue.   I was too exhausted to do anything but kneel there as they pulled their cocks out.

“Enjoy,” said Earl before he spit in the funnel then unleashed a strong stream of dark yellow urine.  Then he made his idea of a joke.  “Hope you don’t mind a little recycled beer.”

I did mind but I didn’t have a choice.  The smell of rank male urine filled my nostrils as the warm fluid arrived on my tongue.  I began to gulp down the filthy liquid, swallowing as fast as I could.

“Look that the bitch gulp it down.  She loves it,” observed Lonnie.

I didn’t love it but the funnel gag didn’t give me any choice.

“I really had to go,” said Earl shaking off the last drops before adding another gob of spit.

“My turn,” said Lonnie imitating his companionpartner.

They must have been saving up.  When Lonnie finished, I felt like I had swallowed a couple of quarts.  I was sweating like a pig from the warm liquid.

“She looks like we knocked her up,” said Earl pointing to my bloated belly.

Waves of nausea passed over me.  I did look five months pregnant.  Off came the funnel gag.  Then they removed the clamps by jerking them off.  Tiny pieces of flesh and blood were attached to the saw teeth.  I would have begged them to kill me if I had the strength.

“You guys having fun,” asked Tom appearing downstairs?

I was surprised to see the stripper named Rita standing behind him.  She was holding the handle of a piece of luggage.  It was one of those rolling boxes made of molded plastic.  I shuddered at the thought of what kind of hellish instruments of torture were inside.

“So far Iit’s been one hell of a party,” said Earl.  “I just wish we had more time to work on the slut. We were just getting warmed up.”

“We haven’t fucked her yet and I’m horny,” said Lonnie grabbing his crotch for emphasis.

“That’s right.  You promised we could fuck the bitch, Tom,” said Earl.

“Shit, I haven’t got all night,” said Rita wheeling the luggage to the side of the examination table.

“Well, you’re just going to have to wait until we’ve done her,” said Earl sounding truculent.

“You two go ahead.  Rita and I will watch,” said Tom pulling her into an embrace that included grabbing her ass to grind it against his crotch.   “Put her in the fuck bench so you can double up.”

The fuck bench turned out to be another crudely constructed torture device that bent me like a clothespin in a vertical position.  My ankles were pressed against the sides of my head and my bottom was pointed toward the basement ceiling.  Nylon straps with Velcro fasteners secured me to the degree I couldn’t move more than an inch. The crown of my head was an inch off the floor.    It was an agonizing forward bend bondage position.

Tom was right about the purpose of the fuck bench.  It was built for two guys to stand facing one another as they fucked down into the orifice of their choice.  Its creator designed the bench to maximize the accessibility of the vagina an anus.  I was totally and helplessly exposed and the two took full advantage of my situation.The crown of my head was an inch off the floor.    It was an agonizing bondage position.

Fingers Unwashed digits entered my anus and vagina and pulledpried them open so the two could spit inside me.  Looking back I realized it was a perfect position for them to fuck both my holes.  The two jerked each other’s cocks as they forced fingers and thumbs in my narrow passageways.  My screams of pain and fear added to their lust.  Finally, Ththeir large uncircumcised cocks entered my ass and pussy simultaneously.  I groaned and moaned at their entry.

 

“She’s a good fuck.  Isn’t she” asked Tom watching the proceeding closely.

“Yeah, she’s good,” said Lonnie pounding away inside my pussy.

“She won’t be good for anything when I’m done with her,” said Rita.

The sounds of Rita grunting caused me to look in their direction. Tom had Rita bent over a chair.  He was holding her hips.  Her skirt was pulled up and he was pounding his cock into her pussy.   She had one hand on the chair seat supporting her as the other worked her pussy.  She and Tom were watching intently as Lonnie and Earl rammed themselves deep inside me.  I suppose the three of us were a hot sight if you are into observing sado-masochism.  My grunts and moans added to Rita’s as we both got fucked.

Lonnie and Earl worked my holes taking the occasional opportunity to spit into my openings.  I could feel their slime sliding slowly down inside me.  I wouldn’t call what they were doing romantic.

It wasn’t long before Tom finished.  Rita squatted down and cupped her hand over her pussy and expelled his load.  Then she walked over to me and knelt down.  All the while, the two bikers were doing everything possible to make my double fucking as unpleasant as possible.

“Eat it or I’ll dig your eye out with my fingernails,” said Rita placing her palm over my mouth.

Eating second hand come recently extracted from a stripper’s well-screwed pussy seemed a better alternative to permanently losing the sight in one eye so I opened wide and licked the palm of her hand.  She held it there until I finished then wiped the residue across my face.

 

When she moved away I could see out of the corner of my eye she was unpacking what appeared to be electrical equipment from the suitcase.  A complicated appearing control box was plugged into a wall socket.  There were a good dozen electrical leads attached to the front of the box.

The equipment was similar to what Dan had used on Roger Ward in the DVD Jill had shown me.  From the way, Roger had screamed and begged I had a good idea what I was in for if I survived the brutal fucking Lonnie and Earl were subjecting me to.

The hurtingworst part of their fuck came when the two of them managed to get both their cocks in first my pussy and then my anus.  While they were both inside my ass, one forced his fist inside my vagina to wrap his hand around my rectum effectively masturbating their cocks from inside my body.  I contributed to their fun by screaming my head off.  I was certain that if somehow I survived, I would be wearing diapers for the rest of my days.  Both my orifices felt stretched beyond the point of return.  My torture fuck ended when the two dumped their loads into my bowelse.

I thought my spine would snap when they removed the straps holding me in the fuck bench and straightened me up.  They picked me up and carried me over to the examination table and once again strapped me down to where I couldn’t move.  My legs were bound to the stirrups with Velcronylon straps.  Rita took position between my legs and got my attention by delivering an open palmed slapped to my already damaged clitoris.

“You having a bad day, Marnie,” asked Rita with a smirk on her face?  She forced a gloved hand in my vagina.  That hurt like hell.  “Those two really stretched you out.  You’re not going to be much of a tight fuck anymore.  Not that it will matter after I’m finished with you.”

“Please, why are you doing this?  I don’t know anything.  Tom knows more that I do,” I said.

“Or maybe you know a lot more and are one hell of an actress,” said Tom.  “Rita will get the truth out of you.  Won’t you, RitaBaby?”

“Bitch will be singing like a bird in a few minutes,” said Rita applying some kind of white lubricant to a thin flexible clear plastic probe.  Once that was done, she separated my labia to position the probe.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she forced the probe inside me.

“I’m inserting an electrical probe in your urethra.  It will go right down your pee hole into your bladder.  I’ll make your piss boil if you don’t cooperate,” said Rita as she found my pee hole and worked the probe into me.  That hurt like hell and felt beyond weird as it traveled down my urethra.

I watched as Rita applied lubricant to a large shiny egg shaped object.  She wasn’t above keeping me informed.  I suppose they stressed communication in the torture school she attended.

“This goes deep in your cervix.  Think of it as a baby named Sparky,” said Rita slipping a speculum in my vagina then twisting the screw to open me up.   It was far larger than the one Dr. Murray used to examine me.  It felt like the insideopening of my vagina was about to rupture.

“Let me look.  I never saw the inside of a pussy before,” said Lonnie stepping closer.

“Knock yourself out,” said Rita handing him a small flashlight.

After Lonnie admired the interior of my vagina, he handed the flashlight to Earl.

“Shit, I can see my come,” said Earl.

When they satisfied their curiosity, Rita used a long pair of forceps to force the egg inside me deep enough to hurt like all hell.

“Right next to your ovaries, I’m going to fry your eggs,” said Rita removing the speculum.   “Now to open your backdoor.”

A very large speculum cranked open my anus.  She pushed that egg so far in I thought it was coming out my mouth.

Powered bands circled by boobs forcing them to react like over inflated balloon.  Someone had trained Rita in what she was doing.  The question was where.  You can’t find electrical torture in the syllabus of your local community college.  She attached single leads to my ear lobes and big toes.  There were separate connections for my major and minor labia.  And to make it complete, she sucked my damaged clitoris into a vacuum cup then tightened a circular band around the base.

“There, you’re ready for the experience of a lifetime,” said Rita.  “Now for a test run.”

The test run wasn’t that awful, just an uncomfortable buzz on the place of interest.  Rita worked the knobs and switches on the control box like a professional.  I obviously wasn’t the first person she had electrified.

“I’m She’s ready, Tom,” said Rita.

“This is going to be something,” said Lonnie. He and Earl were watching with the level of interest their kind normally applied to wrestling.

Tom questioned me.  “If you tell me where Dan is, you can leave right now.”

“I don’t know.  I thought he was dead until the FBI told me there was no DNA match,” I said.

“She’s all yours, Rita,” said Tom.

Rita gave each of my individual body parts enough electricity to make me scream.

“That was just to test the equipment, Marnie.  Now, I’m going to get serious.  Are you sure you don’t have something you want to tell us,” said Rita turning the dial on the control box.

For the next several minutes, I was in indescribable hell.  It did feel like my urine was boiling in my bladder.  And the metal egg in my womb caused me to believefeel I was being cooked from the inside out.  At times, the current passed through my body making me think my bones were cracking.  The devices in my pussy and ass would exchange energy causing me to beg for her to stop.

After a prolonged period of pure hell, Rita stopped to allow Tom to repeat his question.  I decided to lie to avoid more pain then couldn’t think of anything that was believable.

I watched as Rita turned the dial increasing the voltage.  When the current hit me, I arched off the table screaming my lungs out.

“Want me to burn one of her boobs off,” asked Rita?

“Shit yeah, I’d like to see that,” said Lonnie.

“Just char them a bit,” said Tom.  “Burn a ring around them.”

Seconds later I smelled my flesh burning.  That was when I lost control of my bodily functions.  I opened up all three holes like a torrent.  A column of piss puke exploded out of my mouth as my sphincter expelled the egg along with a bucket full of loose shit.  Apparently, being electrically tortured in the asshole leads to explosive diarrhea.  Equally Aamazingly, my pee hole blew out the probe and a stream of hot piss hit Rita in the face.  When I opened my eyes, I realized that Rita was covered in all three fluids.  Lonnie and Earl were laughing their ass off.  Bikers have a weird sense of humor.

“I’m going to kill you for that,” said Rita looking very pissed as she wiped her face with a tissue.  Her hair was covered in a layer of vomit combined with some very dark looking piss.  And there was a spray of brown shit covering her abdomen.  Of course, I was in even worse condition fluid wise, but I was too fucked over to care..

I screamed, “No,”  as she twisted the dial as far as it would go and started flipping switches.  It felt like my spine was snapping as full current hit from every direction.  I heard two loud pops then lost consciousness.  When I came to the idea that I was dead was contradicted by the presence of Special Agent Alice Tyson wiping puke off my face.

“She alive,” asked Special Agent Larry Tyson who was standing over a kneeling Tom and Rita?  He’d already handcuffed them behind their backs.  Lonnie and Earl were lying on the floor.  Lonnie was missing half of his skull, obviously dead.  But a still alive  and Earl was holding his abdomen.  There was blood seeping between his fingersclutching his wounded arm.  There was blood seeping between his fingers..

“Yes, alive and knowing Marnie, ready to fuck,” said Alice not at all put off by the filth covering me.  She leaned down and kissed me on the lips slipping her tongue into my mouth.  All I could think of was, “Yuck.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9 Revenge is Sweet

“Eat up, they’re delicious,” taunted Alice.  Those were the first words I heard as I descended the stairs.  Alice’s statement was punctuated by a loud scream from Tom.  Rita was whimpering, “No,” and “Please don’t.  You’re killing me.”

Based on how watching the rendition and torture video at my place had turned Agents Alice Magnuson and Larry Tyson on, I suspected they would personally enjoy aggressive interrogation techniques.  While I was getting myself together, they went to work on their three captives.  It was brutal and nasty but hadn’t those bastards done the same to me.  As an ex Marine with two tours in the Middle East I was used to hearing prisoners scream during interrogation or often as not torture sessions intended to put the fear of God into Mohammed’s followers.  I hesitated on the steps for a moment listening to their screams.  When I placed my hand on my sex it was wet and hot.  My FBI protectors weren’t the only ones able to get off from causing criminal’s pain.

Earlier, Alice had sent me upstairs to shower and clean up.  I was covered in piss, puke, and blood.  She handed me a couple of capsules before I left.  “Take these and you’ll feel like joining us for some fun with these motherfuckers.  Larry and I are going to make them wish they were never born.”

I am enough of a health nut to ask, “What are they?”

“Painkillers plus they give you energy, Special Forces guys use them on extended missions to keep going ever after they’re wounded,” said Alice.

Climbing the stairs made me realize how much pain I was feeling along with almost total exhaustion.  I went to the kitchen for something to wash down the pills.  Red Bull was the only thing in the refrigerator so I opened one.  Half way through my shower I started to feel human again.  Still, I was shocked at how I looked in the mirror.  My body was covered in whelps.  Teeth marks ringed my areola and my nipples looked like they had been worked on by a food processor.  There was a ring of charred flesh around the base of my breasts.

As I examined myself, I grew angrier and angrier.  Even the Special Ops painkillers couldn’t mask the dull ache I felt deep in my vagina and bowels. Maybe Rita had, “fried my eggs,” and I would never be a mother.  Even worse, perhaps she had given me ovarian cancer.  I gave my clit a gentle rub to see if still had feeling.  It hurt like hell when I touched what was left of it.  The bastards had almost ripped it off.

So I didn’t feel pity when I summoned the will to return to the basement.  Rita had replaced me on the examination table.  And Tom was bent double in the fuck bench.  Agent Tyson’s super cock was exploring the depths of his bowels.  Larry’s firm hold on Tom’s balls insured he didn’t enjoy his butt fucking.  Larry had a ride um cowboy look as he pounded away using the base of Tom’s nuts for a hand hold.

Someone had drug Lonnie’s carcass over to the corner out of the way.  His still very much alive partner Earl was strapped onto a nearby punishment table.  There was a tourniquet on his arm to keep him from bleeding out.  It turned out to be a flesh wound, nothing serious.

Sash chord was wrapped tight around his balls separating them into two red globes of almost translucent flesh.  One end of the chord was threaded through a pulley in the overhead rack that was part of the bench.  The pulley had a clutch that kept the chord from slipping once it had been pulled tight.  Earl didn’t look to happy at having his nuts stretched but I thought he looked damn good that way.  I gave the chord a yank as I walked by causing him to scream as I lifted him slightly off the table by his balls.  The clutch caught the chord leaving him suspended.

I leaned over and took the head of his cock in my mouth and bit down hard.  As my teeth sunk into the soft flesh, I pulled my head back.  He twisted and screamed as I shook my head back and forth like an angry bulldog in a tug of war.  After I few seconds, I relented.  “Before we’re done here, Earl, I just might bite the head of your cock off.”  He was in too much pain to respond.

“What’s happening,” I asked coming to stand by Alice who was offering Rita her bloody left nipple to eat.  Actually, it was the nipple and a sizeable piece of the areola. When I looked down between Rita’s legs, I saw blood oozing out her vagina.

“You missed the good part.  I just finished relining the bitch’s pussy and now it’s time to remodel her tits,” said Alice holding up a micro grader.  I had one of those in my kitchen, but I used mine to zest oranges or finely shred cheese.  The kitchen tool was a good eight inches long and covered in blood.

“What did you do with this,” I asked taking it from her hand?

“Shredded her vagina.  Why don’t you remove the hide from her clit?” said Alice handing me the kitchen tool.

“Love to,” I said.  One pass of the micro blades over Rita’s love button and the first layer of skin was gone.  Rita screamed her head off just like I did when she applied current to my sensitive body parts.  A few more passes of the micro grader and her clitoris was a memory.  All that remained was a flat patch of bleeding flesh.

“Having fun,” asked Alice who had halted to watch me?

“Yes, it’s a blast,” I said.  “Mind if I shred her labia?”

“Knock yourself out,’ said Alice.

Micro shredders can shred a pound of hard cheddar in a couple of minutes.  Labia are much softer than cheese and they feel real pain as the flesh is worn away.  Rita had no clitoris or labia when I was done, just a vulva dripping blood.

“Did you know you can use this in the kitchen,” said Alice taking the micro shredder back from me?

“Yes, you can zest a lemon or fix this bitch so she never feels zest again,” I said.

“Let’s see if we make this slut to eat her nipples,” said Alice picking up the mound of tit flesh she had set aside in order to help me.

“She looks like she could use a snack,” I said.

“I think I may have a new Guinness record,” said Larry who had somehow managed to get almost his entire arm in Tom’s asshole.  When he saw we were looking his way, he quickly withdrew his arm then stood aside so we could see the result.  “Look at his rosebud.  It must me a good three inches.”

Several of inches of Tom’s rectum had been suctioned or dragged outside his sphincter.  Larry grabbed a two inch wide leather strap and landed a vicious blow right on the newly exposed flesh.   Judging from Tom’s frenzied reaction; it must have hurt like nothing else on this earth.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Agent Tyson,” asked Alice in her droll voice.

“I sure am, Agent Magnuson.  How’s Marnie doing?” said Larry.

“Excellent, she’s just shredded her first pussy, took the bitch’s hide right off with a common kitchen tool.”

“I hope she understands that if she doesn’t find the twenty million, it’s her pussy that’ll be skinned next,” said Larry gliding his fist once more into Tom’s rectum.

“She’s going to find the money and cut the balls off her worthless prick of a husband.  Aren’t you, Marnie?’ said Alice.

“Damn right, I will,” I said although I had almost no hope of succeeding in their quest.

Alice put her mouth to my ear and whispered, “And when you do, we’ll put a bullet in Larry’s brain then sneak off with the money to a lesbian island I know in the Caribbean and eat young pussy for the rest of our days.”

I thought that was weird.  Were the two working for the FBI or themselves?  If I did find the money, would they kill one another and me for it?  Alice’s returned her attention and mine to whimpering suffering Rita.

“Are you going to eat it, yes, or no,” asked Alice pressing the carrion to Rita’s lips.  Alice’s other hand was holding a shiny scalpel.

“No, please dear God,” said Rita.

“Let’s see how you look without your implants,” said Alice as she handed me Rita’s nipple.  It felt warm in my hand.

Rita screamed as Alice carved a plus sign across her breast then reached in with her bare fingers and pulled out a leaking plastic pouch.  I was surprised Rita didn’t pass out.  Maybe she was too busy screaming her lungs out for that.  Alice gave me background information as she slowly sliced off layers of Rita’s damaged boob.

“Her real name is Rita Caron Ramirez, born in the Panama Canal Zone of an American father and Panamanian mother.  Her mother was a whore who sucked off soldiers at one of the clubs right outside the zone.  When Rita was fifteen, she hooked up with Captain Renaldo Ramirez who worked for the Panamanian secret police.  He taught her how to use electricity to extract information from reluctant witnesses.  She and the Captain specialized in torturing the children to get the parents to talk.  Panama had a regime change with the result the Captain wound up hanging from a light pole minus his privates.  Rita only barely managed to escape the same fate.  Somehow she snuck into the US and became an exotic dancer and part time interrogator.   Ever tasted human flesh, Marnie?” said Alice placing the nipple on a nearby board and slicing it in two.

“No,” I said wondering if cannibalism was also in Alice’s extensive repertoire.  My answer came immediately.

“It’s a cross between chicken and sushi,” said Alice placing half of Rita’s severed nipple in her mouth and chewing.  She picked up the other half and placed the bloody carrion against my lips.  “Try it.  That’s an order.”

I figured a refusal on my part would result in my nipples being next on the menu so I opened up and ate my first piece of human flesh.  It was definitely not chicken.

While I was chewing, Alice cut off Rita’s remaining nipple.  “Eat it or I’ll dig your eyeball out.”

That worked and we three girls chowed down on Rita’s nipples while Larry pumped another full load deep in Tom’s bowels all the while using his testicles for leverage.  Tom pleaded with Larry to let go of his balls but Larry persisted.  I felt he deserved what he was getting as punishment for what was done to me.  By this time, Rita would have tortured me to death if my FBI rescuers had not arrived.

Alice used the same technique to remove the other implant.  From somewhere she produced a box of kosher salt to sprinkle into the wounds.  It must have hurt because Rita went nuts as soon as the white crystals came in contact with the open wounds.

“We saved Earl for you, Marnie,” said Larry who was busy working shortening into Tom’s asshole.

My torturer experience was non existent.  “What should I do to him?”

“There’s a box of fish hooks on the counter.  Hook him up to the overhead rack,” suggested Larry.

“Hi Earl, how are you doing,” I asked as I gave the chord attaching his balls to the overhead rack a sharp tug.  He screamed in pain then he had to show me how tough he way.

“I’m fine, Bitch.  I just wish we had more time to work on you.  Rita was in too big a hurry.  If it had been up to me, you’d take a week to die, screaming every minute,’ said Earl.

Further conversation seemed pointless so I located the box of large fish hooks each fitted with a length of fishing line for easy attachment.

I used Earl’s pliers to capture a big hunk of his nipple.  As he howled in pain I squeezed hard and twisted.  The hooks were sharp and slipped through the base of the nipple with no problem.  I wrapped the line around an overhead connector and pulled hard using my weight.  I tied it off then stepped back to admire my work. Deciding he wasn’t suffering sufficiently, I took one of the weighted alligator clamps and allowed it to snap shut around the base of the elongated flesh.

“Good work, Marnie” said Larry whose forearm was embedded in Tom’s asshole.

I took Larry’s complement as encouragement to do the other nipple.  My next hook went through the underside of Earl’s penis and emerged through the top.  It was sort of a do it yourself Prince Albert.

By the time I was done, there were a good twenty five fish hooks tearing into Earl’s flesh.  The hooks in his nostrils and lips gave him a bizarre appearance.  It reminded me of that old horror movie, Hell Raiser, where hooks explode out of a Chinese puzzle box to rip the flesh off the bad guy.  Getting a hook through the center of his balls proved to be difficult but I managed.   I also did his armpits and thighs.

When I had exhausted all possibilities, I drifted over to Alice to see how she was progressing.  Rita was no longer beautiful.  Her lips, nose and ears were missing as were her thumbs and several fingers.  She had passed out from loss of blood.

“I’d say our work here is almost done,” said Larry who had concentrated on torturing Tom’s rosebud.  It was now hanging sadly outside his sphincter bleeding profusely onto the floor that had become quite slippery in places.

“Marnie, what is your preferred emasculation method,” asked Alice who had joined me at Earl’s side.

“I’m afraid I don’t have one,” I said giving a tug to the sash chord to test whether Earl’s testicles could be ripped off.

“This is the way I roll,” said Larry brandishing a large serrated hunting knife.

Alice and I watched as he took a firm grip on the base of Tom’s cock and balls.  “Say goodbye to your manhood,” said Larry as he passed the blade over the area.  A bright red line immediately appeared.  Larry took another pass.  He took his time.  On the fourth cut, Tom’s manhood was completely severed.  Tom continued to squirm for a few minutes as blood poured out of the gaping hole.  Then he stopped moving forever.

“Open wide,” said Larry placing the head of Tom’s cock against Earl’s lips.  Earl was in too great a shock to comply.  Larry dropped the severed cock and balls on Earl’s chest and left it.  From the wild look in Earl’s eyes, I would say that if somehow he survived the night, he was finished mentally. Too much torture and you go insane.

“Your method lacks subtlety, Larry” said Alice.  “I’ll show Marnie how to get the most out of a castration.”

Alice looked around the basement before finding what she needed.  In the corner was a stack of unused ceramic floor tiles.  They must have been left over because they were identical to ones covering the kitchen floor.  After a few adjustments, Earl’s testicles were stretched in two directions resting flat on the tile.

“This will get the job done,” said Alice taking a large rubber mallet off the tool bench.  “I’ll do one and you can do the other.”

In spite of Earl’s weakened condition, he lifted his head to beg Alice not to castrate him.  “Sorry Earl, Larry and I always end our torture sessions with emasculation.  You wouldn’t want us to break tradition.”

With that, she raised the mallet high and brought it around in an arc onto the testicle on her side.  She mashed it to the thickness of a sheet of paper.  The result was a large bloody disc that would never be able to serve as a reservoir for semen.

“Your turn, Marnie,” said Alice handing me the mallet.

In spite of all I had been through, my aim was true.  Earl still had enough left to express his agony in long full throated screams.   Larry put Earl out of his misery by slitting his throat.

Entertainment over, Alice took me back to my car while Larry tidied up.  When I woke at noon, the television news contained a story about a local house being burnt totally to the ground.  It was the one Tom took me to.

Chapter 10 Following His Trail

“237 Montvale Ave, thank you, Garmin,” I whispered to the empty rental car.  I’d flown to Chicago that afternoon.  The plane was late and by the time I left O’Hare it was getting dark.  Fortunately, the car’s GPS direction system worked flawlessly and I found the address without a problem.

I was following the only clue I had.  Last Christmas, I’d given Dan an expensive brief case.  His old one was looking worn.  He’d transferred his stuff to the new one and put the old one in the closet where we kept the home office supplies.   I’d gone through everything a half dozen times looking for anything that might tell me where he was.  Out of a sense of desperation, I opened the closet and saw the old case.

I was on the verge of panic. In less than fifteen days, either Sergei or the FBI would come looking for me.  I’d either wind up in an Egyptian prison being tortured and mutilated or Sergei and friends would kill me in some unpleasant fashion then murder the rest of my family.

I’d just about given up when I spotted the old case in the back of the closet.  I opened it and as expected it was empty.  I unsnapped the accordion organizer built into the lid.  In the back pocket was an empty letter envelope.  The letter was addressed to Laurie Wagner at the address in Chicago I was about to park in front of.

There was no return address.  I recognized Dan’s neat script.  He’d addressed the letter.  He’d also assured me he was an orphan and had no known relatives.  So why was he writing to a Laurie Wagner in Chicago a city he frequently visited on business?

I fought my urge to storm into the house demanding to know what the hell was going on.  237 Montvale was a modest home on a quite residential street.  It was a lot less house than our place.  Still, it was neat and tidy.  A Ford sedan was parked in the driveway.  There were two other cars parked on the street in front of the house.

Here goes nothing I told myself as I stepped out of my car.  Although the shades were drawn, I could see lights on in the house.

The door opened almost the moment I pressed the buzzer.  An attractive black woman about my age opened the door.

“You’re late, Sugar.  Laurie’s pissed,” said the woman.

“Who are you?” I asked spying a blonde younger woman standing behind her.  The blonde was dressed in a tank top and jeans skirt that barely covered her bottom.  Neither was dressed for church.

“I’m Deidre.  That’s Michelle.  Laurie’s in the kitchen,” said Deidre before shouting, “Laurie, she’s here.”

An attractive brunette with long curly black hair came storming into the room.  “You’re fucking late,” shouted Laurie pointing at me and looking highly annoyed.  “I’m going to tell Sam never to use you again.”

I had no idea what she was talking about.  But I decided to play along.  “I couldn’t help it.  My plane was on ground hold in Minneapolis for over an hour and the rental car bus took forever to come.”

She looked at me kind of odd.  “Sam didn’t mention you were coming from out of town.  Just get in the car.  We’ll sort this out later.  But if we don’t earn what I expect, it’s coming out of your share.”

Laurie grabbed a nylon bag off a nearby chair and tossed it to me as she headed for the front door.  “That’s yours to wear tonight but I want it back when we’re done.

Moments later, I was in the backseat of the Taurus tearing through residential Chicago’s quiet streets at way over the legal speed.

“What’s your name, Sugar,” asked Deidre who’d allowed her bare leg to rest alongside mine?

“Marnie,” I said wondering what I had gotten myself into.

“You going to get a ticket, Laurie,” said Michelle.

“If we get stopped, Marnie can suck off the cops since it’s her fault,” said Laurie.

Her remark made me wonder what Laurie and her friends were up to.  But I decided to hold my questions for later when it was just the two of us.  Besides, it was the kind of high speed drive that didn’t encourage conversation.  Laurie ran a couple of red lights almost causing a wreck before she reached the interstate where she absolutely floored the accelerator.  Fortunately, it was only two exits before we left the highway and pulled into the parking lot of a Marriott Residences.   The tires were practically smoking as we skidded to a halt.

“Place has got four bedrooms so we shouldn’t be all crowded up like last time,” said Laurie as she checked the signage to find Residence No. 268.

Before I had time to ask what the hell was going on, we were out of the car walking toward a building.  Laurie didn’t bother to knock.  We just barged in on a room crowded with men.  The place smelled of cigars and beer.  Hardcore porn was playing on the wall sized HD television.

On screen, a very young and thin blonde with ugly augmented tits was moaning and pleading for two black men to remove their cocks from her pussy and ass.  One pulled his twelve inch penis out of her butt hole to show the audience how she looked on the inside.  After he spit in the open hole, he plunged back in to the max causing her to scream. I didn’t know where she was acting or not but if it was an act, she deserved an Oscar.

They weren’t watching the type of gentle hardcore porn you find in your neighborhood adult video store.  It was illegal rape porn.  You had to know someone in the underground where that shit is made and sold.  The girl’s nose was smashed to one side and her lip was split.  Her ripped clothes were lying nearby.  We’d apparently missed the good part where she had been abducted and beat up

“Where the hell have you been,” asked a man who jumped up off the couch.  His zipper was open and his cock was hanging out.  “Sam promised you’d be here at eight, but it’s past nine.”

Laurie ignored his verbal onslaught.  She stepped forward, put one arm around his shoulders and the hand of her other arm around his cock.  Then she replied.  “You must be Mark.  Marnie’s plane was late. And she’s so sorry that happened she’s going to make it up to you.  Aren’t you, Marnie?”

I was being put on the spot, but it was too late to protest even though I now had a good idea what I had stumbled into.  I needed to work my way into Laurie’s good graces and informing her I wasn’t up for what was planned was not a good beginning.  I stepped forward and placed my hand on Mark’s balls and cupped them then I turned to the guys and made my declaration. “I’m so sorry I caused the party to start late.  I’ll make it up to you guys; so if you want something different, just let me know.  That includes around the world and playing your rusty trombone.”

“Honey, you haven’t heard what I want,” said a fat man seated nearby.  He was fisting his short thick cock.   Laugher ensued.  God knows what I was letting myself in for but it couldn’t be any worse than what I’d faced recently.

“Try me,” I smiled provocatively causing the crowd to all talk at once.

“We need to change,” said Laurie.

“Bedrooms are that way,” said Mark pointing toward the stairs.

“Everyone downstairs in five minutes,” said Laurie as she rushed into one of the bedrooms.

I dumped the contents of my nylon bag on the bed.  The first think that struck me was the bridal veil.  All the lingerie was white.  Not wanting to repeat my tardiness, I sprung into action.   Minutes later, I was looking in the mirror at what you would term a bride stripped for action.  A white satin bustier cinched my waist and pushed my boobs up to expose my nipples.  The tiniest of thongs consisted of a narrow strip up material invisibly buried in my butt cheeks.  In the front, a triangle of cloth nestled between my labia barely covered clit and vagina.  A lace garter belt held up my hose.  I lucked out in that the five inch white sating pumps were only a half size large.  I had a feeling none of my attire would be on long enough to be uncomfortable.

“You got a hell of a body, Marnie,” said Laurie entering the room carrying a strap on cock and a tube of lubricant.  She casually dropped the items on the bed then picked up a jar of rouge.  “Here, let me darken your nipples.”  Laurie was wearing similar lingerie but a different color and style.

I stood quietly wondering who was the strap on for and what kind of weirdness I had agreed to.

“Better get rid of the wedding ring,” said Laurie working the cosmetic into my areola.  “It might spook one of them.”

“I don’t know why I am still wearing it.  He was killed recently,” I said slipping the ring off.

“That’s tough, sorry to hear that,” said Laurie taking her time with my nipples.

“Are you married?” I asked feeling warmth where Laurie was rubbing.

“Yeah, but he travels a lot.  I like to maintain my financial independence.  I’m on the pole at a couple of clubs,” said Laurie.

“Let’s go before they start butt fucking each other,” said Deidre impatiently as she appeared at the bedroom door along with Michelle.  The three were dressed identically.  I surmised I was the bride whore and the three were my bridesmaid sluts.  Later, I learned it was role play that Laurie had thought up.  Supposedly, it was a very popular form of entertainment for Chicago bachelor parties.

Laurie shoved a bouquet of silk flowers in my hands as we reached the top of the stairs.  She pressed a button on a boom box she’d brought and Mozart’s Wedding March filled the living area.  I’d decided to do my best to please Laurie.  Like an innocent bride, I lowered my eyes and progressed down the stairs.  That didn’t prevent me from counting the number of men waiting at the bottom of the stairs.    There were twenty eight guys in their twenties and thirties.   I was going to have a sore pussy in the morning.

It turned out that Mark was the best man who was hosting the party for his younger brother David.  As soon as I reached the groom, he took me in his arms and French kissed me as he grabbed my bare butt and pulled me hard against his groin. He was pretty drunk. I didn’t picture he would be doing that in the church tomorrow morning.  As soon as we broke the kiss, the faux ceremony started.

“David, do you take this slut Marnie to be your whore for the night?  Do you promise to treat her like the cunt she truly is and fuck her anytime you have the urge?” said Laurie who apparently was not only bridesmaid but minister.

“I do,” said David.

“Marnie, do you faithfully promise to suck David’s cock and swallow his hot load without hesitating.  Do you swear to never refuse his request for a blowjob, a straight fuck or anal?  Will you keep your holes always be open to him and his friends, fucking his buddies as well as him?” said Laurie.

“I do,” I said.

“I now pronounce you David’s surrogate slut wife for the evening.  Marnie you may now suck the groom’s dick,” said Laurie.

I went down on my knees and fished David’s cock out of his trousers.  Everyone clapped as I licked the head then took the shaft into my mouth.

“I want everyone here to fuck my bride tonight,” said David slapping his cock against my protruding tongue.

“Does that mean we can fuck Ellen tomorrow night,” asked one of the groomsmen.

Ellen turned out to be the real bride.

“Any of you asshole ever touch my wife, I’ll cut your balls off,” said David placing his hand on the back of my head to control the action.  He didn’t say it with any heat giving me the impression that he might be the kind who liked to watch his old lady get it on with other men.

“Face fuck the cunt.  Gag the bitch,” said Mark as David began to slam his manhood into my throat opening.   He, along with most of the guests, was a construction worker, a member of Ironworkers Union 437.  They were a tough bunch of in condition young men.  I was in for the equivalent of screwing a couple of platoons of Marines.

David’s hands assumed a vice like grip on the sides of my head then wedged his cock head in my throat opening.  With another hard shove, I had two inches of man meat blocking my throat opening.  It took all my self control not to panic as my air supply was cut off.  The problem worsened when David pinched my nostril’s shut.

“Teach you to be late,” said Mark wrapping his hands around my throat from behind and squeezing hard.  The best man is supposed to help out wherever he can.

My hand was working my clit hard as I began to pass out.  I had the kind of soul searing orgasm near strangulation can cause.  I could feel the walls of my vagina rhythmically contracting as I climaxed.  My entire body was shaking.  That got my libido running in overdrive.  I was ready for a night of hard screwing.

Saliva spilled over my lower lip onto the tops of my breasts when he let me come up for air, but only after I began to shake violently.  Mucus poured out of my nostrils and my eyes filled with tears as David choked me with his cock.

Thank God, he got bored before I suffocated.    He was pretty drunk.  So drunk he decided to share his insecurities and fantasies with me.  Weddings don’t necessarily bring out the best in people.

“Ellen, I am going to fuck the shit out of your bitch ass in Aruba,” whispered David to me as he bludgeoned my cheek with his manhood.  Obviously, he had unresolved issues with his bride-to-be that he planned to address on his honeymoon.  Or did he? Was the bride really in charge and David acting out his resentment?  I find this kind of psychological shit fascinating.

I acted the responsible hooker and accepted my role. I spoke in a teasing voice.  “What are you going to do to me, David?  Are you going to take me out on the beach and screw me in the sand like a cheap island whore?  Tell me all the filthy nasty things you’ll force me to do.”

“I’m going to fuck your precious asshole so hard it bleeds.  I don’t give a shit how hard you beg me not to,” said David as he pushed me down on all fours, parted my cheeks to spit on my ass, and then slammed his very large cock into my rectum.  Without any foreplay or lubricant other than sputum, it felt like someone had rammed a red hot poker up my ass.  I grimly hung on, pushing my butt back to take his cock deep in hope that I would soon loosen up.

“Oh David, it hurts. I’ve never done anal before,” I said as I stroked my clit and massaged his impressively large balls.  He was well endowed and it felt good to have a pair of warm low hangers in my hand.

“I know that, Bitch.  I’m going to get you drunk and screw you in the butt.  Then I’m going to let the bellmen fuck your butt.  You won’t shit right for a month.  You’re going to learn who’s boss, Bitch.  I don’t give a shit how much money your daddy has,” said David staring hard into my eyes.  I gave the marriage six months at best.

Around us, the others had started their own psycho-sexual drama.  Our late arrival meant they were too horny for foreplay.  My fellow escorts were quickly stripped of their panty and bra then penetrated in multiple orifices.

“Take it easy, fellows.  Everyone will get all the pussy and ass they want,” said Laurie as she was bent over the arm of the couch.  Two guys were attempting to force their cocks into her orifices.

“You’re the boss, David.  I’ll do anything you say just don’t hurt me,” I said now greatly enjoying my ass fucking.   “You got such a big cock and I love it in my ass.”

“ATM time, lick me clean, Cunt,” said David pulling out of my butt to present himself to my lips.  It had been a long travel day with no time to douche out my bowels.  My rectum was ripe and his cock was coated with something that looked like Mom’s fudge but didn’t taste as good.

“It’s nasty. David, please don’t made me do that,” I said.

“Suck it clean, you shit eating whore.  FYI bitch, Ed told me he’s been fucking you.  The guilty bastard got drunk the other night at my place.  It seems he’s acquired a bad case of the guilts for banging his little sister.  He spilled his guts about how he’s been screwing you since you were in the ninth grade.  You’re an incestuous slut,’ said David going amazingly deep into the role play.  I wondered if he would ever confront the real Ellen about having sex with her brother.  I found the whole David and Ellen imbroglio fascinating enough to lick my shit off his love stick.

“There, it’s clean. Now please, David, screw me in the ass.  Fuck me hard like Ed does,” I said.  Ed was actually a few feet away with his cock buried in Deidre’s ebony pussy.

“Ed took your cherry.  Didn’t he, Ellen?” said David.

“All right, Motherfucker, Ed was my first.  He busted me wide open and I loved it.  I can’t get enough of his cock.  I want you to watch him screw me?” I said.

By one o’clock in the morning, we four girls had collected every singe sperm in Room 268.  That accomplishment was even more impressive when you consider most of the guys were turbo charged by a combination of Viagra and cocaine.

There had been a bride round in which each of the twenty eight had dipped their cocks into my pussy.  Michelle turned out to be the piss queen.  She’d set on the commode in the half bath and swallowed enough beer piss to give her a round tummy.

I was giving David a final face ride in the cowgirl position when all hell broke loose.  He was doing an excellent job of eating my sloppy pussy and I was not in the mood to be interrupted.  Without warning, in strode a drunken group of five well dressed women.

“David, you promised there wouldn’t be any hookers at your party,” said the youngest.

“Ellen, what the hell are you doing here,” asked David looking up between my legs with his face covered with the slime of a well fucked vagina?

“This is a private party,” said Laurie who had fucked herself silly and was high as a kite on coke.

“Get off my future husband, you whore,” said Ellen grabbing my hair and pulling hard.

That was a mistake.  I countered with a solid punch to her gut that crumpled her to the floor.  She gasped for breath a couple of times then puked on the rug.

That occasioned a melee between the women which my side easily won.  Hookers are a tough lot and I was an ex combat marine.  Deidre produced a sap from somewhere and proceeded to bust several noses causing the others to surrender.  The guys were too drunk and exhausted to get involved.  They were willing to verbally encourage us to beat the shit out of one another.  Men have a thing for cat fights and this was a good one even if it was one sided.

I’d used Ellen’s hair to drag her to standing.  “That’s for fucking your brother,” I said landing my fist on Ellen’s jaw.  She looked at me with other surprise, a real how-do-you-know-that look before she spit out a couple of teeth.  After several more solid blows, she collapsed to the floor in her own vomit.  I released my frustrations on the bride giving her a very thorough stomping that included slamming the heel of my pumps down on her breasts.

When I looked around out of breath, I saw that Michelle and Deidre had the situation under control.  The four bloody and cowed female intruders were kneeling down discovering what it was like to eat hooker pussy in front of a sizeable male audience. One woman was older, possibly the bride’s mother.  At the moment, her face was buried in Deirdre’s snatch probably getting her first taste of well fucked black cunt.  Deidre encouraged her by capturing Mom’s nipple in a pair of house hold pliers.  Undoubtedly, it would be the batchelorettes party no one forgot.  Michelle’s vagina was enjoying the oral attentions of two girls while a third rimmed her ass.

“Here, Killer, put this on,” said Laurie handing me a strap on.  The dildo was an S&M model, covered with raised bumps and sharp spines.   Laurie was wearing a strap on with a more conventional ten inch dildo.

Laurie grabbed the supine Ellen and dragged her close to the couch.  I felt a little guilty about Ellen’s face.  Her nose was bent to one side and her right eye was swollen shut.  Two teeth were missing.  It was going to take a lot of make up for her to be a beautiful bride.

Laurie was not the guilty type.  She propped Ellen against the couch so her butt pointed toward the ceiling.  Ellen was bent double and Laurie made sure she stayed that way by straddling her legs and holding them tight between her thighs bending her like a hair pin.  Ellen responded with a deep moan when Laurie plunged the dildo into her vagina.  She went in to the max in one swift stroke.

“Your turn,” said Laurie stretching Ellen’s sphincter open with her forefingers.  I released a large gob of spit into the open hole and smeared it over her anus.  I positioned the dildo head then sunk it home as Ellen made little mewling sounds like a kitten that missed its momma.

Laurie and I kissed and played with each other’s boobs as we double fucked poor Ellen who may have been the recipient of her first act of anal intercourse.  Based on the way she was whining and pleading for us to stop, she didn’t find it all that terrific.

“She’s had enough,” said Laurie pulling out.

I wiped the bloody shit coated dildo clean using Ellen’s blonde hair.  We were done. It was time to scram before someone called the cops.