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Trace kept recording while I sucked his cock and took a full load of his jism on my tongue before I swallowed it. After that he put a pair of clamps on my nipples and made me jerk myself off while he kept filming.

Trace encouraged me to talk dirty as I fingered my clit telling him what a pig whore I was and how much I loved it when he fucked my ass and pissed in my mouth. It was normal loving couple talk. After he strapped a penis gag in my mouth to keep me quiet, he pulled the clamps off. I don't mean he released the tension first. He just yanked them off practically taking the end of my nipples with them. The agonizing pain in my breasts created such an incredible rush my climax felt like a bunker buster bomb had gone off inside my cunt.

I let loose a long muffled scream into the gag as my clit hammered out a tune to my brain using a kettledrum for an instrument. A good five minutes later it all ended with Little Rozz covered in sweat and dripping girl lube down her thighs.

I lay there thinking its good to be a whore as Trace licked my thighs. Swallowing pussy oil was one of his things. It was nearly two in the morning when we finished. I was a happy and satisfied bride-to-be.

I curled up in Trace's arms and fell asleep. You always assume that people are not into BDSM until you find out different. I'd certainly assumed that Trace's parents were straight arrows. Trace and I had pretty much played only with each other since we met; not that we had been together that much. There'd been one exception. Bill Gooding was a tall good-looking career officer, graduate of West Point, and supposedly destined for a general's star when his time came.

Doris was a Southern bell, cheerleader at Old Miss where she majored in communications. She was blonde, skinny, and certainly looked the part of a future general's life. You could picture her hosting teas at the officer's clubs for the other wives. Surprise, they turned out to be in the lifestyle and after dinner at the Officer's Club, Doris and I had the shit whipped out of us in the basement of Major Gooding's off base housing. I hadn't guessed that the Goodings were anything but vanilla until we got to their place.

Trace and Bill took Doris and I down to the basement, made us strip naked, and perform cunnilingus on each other while they drank another beer. Then they shackled us to a pair of St. To make things interesting, they agreed that Bill was going to work on me while Trace entertained Doris.

Variety is the spice of life. Bill was into hot wax; that was something new to Trace and me. He grabbed my nipples with hemostats and stretched them out until you could practically see through my flesh.

I screamed for him to stop before he ripped them off. Trace was imitating Bill and Doris was emitting loud ear splitting shrieks with a Southern accent. Her involuntary vocalizing confirmed my husband-to-be was a talented sadist second to none. My Bartholin glands were going full out. Bill was one of those sadists whose whole face lighted up and cock hardened when his victim opens wide and bellows in pain. I was screaming and begging him to stop the awful things he was doing to my boobs.

Bill lighted a tall beeswax taper and allowed it to slowly drip on my over stretched nipples. You could almost hear it sizzle when it landed on my paper-thin tissue. I was surprised it didn't burn through and drop to the floor. My pain centers flashed agony in bright red letters and my mouth opened to let out a long plaintive scream. In a matter of seconds, I was pleading with Bill as I watched him slowly tilt the candle toward my other nipple.

He was a merciless bastard who worked with an agonizing slowness. I would have sworn it took a full minute for him to turn his wrist. I watched the clear bee poop slowly trickle toward the wick until gravity took over and a half dozen drops touched down. It takes a few seconds for the pain of a burn to gather its energy and signal to your nerve endings that something very serious has happened.

I took in deep breaths thinking I could control the pain. On my exhale, the nerve endings sounded the alarm. My exhale ended in a chortled scream. My next inhale was dedicated to collecting enough breath to power my vocal chords through the full throated scream that my brain had decided was appropriate for a woman who had just suffered a serious burn on her breast tissue.

Bill worked on my tits until I thought I was going out of my mind. He applied more hemostats to my labia and clitoris.

Trace was following Bill's example and dripping large splats of searing hot wax on Doris' breasts and pussy. Any well-trained nurse will tell you that a person's armpits are one of the very most sensitive parts of the body especially to a burn.

The wax landed right in the center of my armpit. I screamed as loud as humanly possible. To reward my performance, Bill took his time doing my other armpit. It was days before I could raise my arms above my shoulders. After the guys tired of the wax torture, Bill unlocked a nearby cabinet and showed Trace his extensive collection of whips, canes, floggers, etc.

Most of the whippings I'd received had been from the type of product you buy in an Adult Products store, overpriced and cheaply made. Bill's collection was on a different level entirely. I heard Bill answer Australia and Turkey when Trace asked about the country of origin of some of the whips. They began with ridding crops that were actually used by jockey's who won one of the Triple Crown races.

Military men have a sense of history. I got hot as a firecracker when Bill snapped the crop across my nipples causing a tidal wave of fiery pain to engulf the end of my breasts. I was pumping out girl lube by the time he landed the business end of the crop on my labia and clit. My pleasure centers climbed up to the top rung of the pain ladder and stayed there as the guys kept switching implements of torture.

For a pain slut, there's nothing better than being whipped into a state of semi-consciousness. Your brain is controlled by your need to feel pain and each time the whip lands, that need is fed. I submerged my mind and body into the experience. There was a point where Bill landed the barbed tip of a bull whip on my vagina that sent me into such a paroxysm of muscular contraction, it felt like I was about to break my own back.

Doris was hysterical by this time screaming for Trace to stop but not shouting the safe word that would make him halt. You can always tell a true pain slut. We never shout the safe word. We just keep screaming and cumming hoping the agony never stops. After I'd had almost every known type of whip used on my most tender and sensitive parts, our two warriors made us kneel down with our mouth open while they emptied their bladders of all the beer piss they'd been accumulating all evening.

It was a dessert of degradation after a full meal of suffering. Doris and I were so thirsty we practically fought to see who got to swallow the most mellow yellow. Our guys must have pre-planned it and avoided the urinal because they just kept filling our maws, pausing so we could swallow then continuing the flow. For the finale, the two dommes took their pleasure. The guys fucked us in both our holes. They kept switching between Doris and me calling us whores and sluts.

Each of us was double penetrated and had to perform ass to mouth or ATM as Bill called it. It was the first time I'd ever sucked a cock that one second before had been up another girl's ass. Neither Doris nor myself had been cleaned out so I got to taste Doris's shit and she mine. It's definitely hardcore when a guy pulls his shit-covered dick out of a nasty asshole, grabs you by the hair and shoves it down your throat.

You can't ignore the smell and taste of the gritty brown feces that covers his cockhead as it coats the lining of your throat. Bill took some kind of diet supplement that he swore increased the volume and taste of his semen.

I knelt there while Doris jacked him off onto my tongue. Since I was company, I got to take the host's load. I felt a large gob hit the back of my throat and another flood onto my tongue. I waited patiently mouth open and tongue extended until he finished before I gulped it down.

Doris used her long tongue to lick the insides of my mouth to savor her man's leftovers. All I can say it was the most jism I'd ever taken in a single orgasm. And the taste was odd, almost medicinal. It definitely went way beyond the normal two tablespoons I'd experienced since I started giving blowjobs in the ninth grade. The four of us slept in the Gooding's king sized bed. The next morning I was so sore it took me half an hour to get out of bed. I could barely walk.

Fortunately a nurse even one in training has access to painkillers. You can always steal them from a cancer patient. Regardless of that experience, I expected that everybody at the Donaldson's would be on best behavior. I was in for a surprise. I met the immediate family at breakfast. Afterwards, my future mother-in-law took me shopping for most of the day.

She spent a fortune on me, dresses, shoes, lingerie, etc. I lost count of how much she spent. She bought me an incredible Bill Blass evening gown for Saturday's engagement party. The dress cost about twenty times more than the most expensive dress I'd ever purchased on my own. We had a formal dinner at nine.

It was in the mansion's cherry paneled dining room that looked like it was copied from a French chateau. I was on cloud nine, dazzled by the wealth and prestige of Trace's family. Say the word basement to me and I picture a dirty concrete floor, fuse box, hot water heater, furnace, and junk like in the home where I grew up.

Dark and scary with spider webs, the kind of place you only go when you have to. Of course, some couples convert their basements to play space. Andrews God forbid you whip your naked wife on one like Jesus Christ was crucified.

Thus equipped you're ready to momentarily spice up what has become a very boring sex life. If you have kids, you have to conceal this shit somehow. If a nosy neighbor asks why are those big hooks screwed into the overhead floor joists, you just reply, "Don't know, they were there when we bought the place.

But there are basements and then there is the Donaldson's. I had no idea why we were leaving the comfortable well-appointed library but I was the prospective daughter-in-law on my best behavior.

I didn't ask any questions as the seven of us stood up, drinks in hand and followed the General down a hallway. He came to a heavy wooden door, pulled one of those laser inscribed keys out of his pocket and worked the tumbler. I recall wondering who locked their basement door. Normally, no one wants to go there. He reached in to flip on the light then stood back and let everyone enter and descend the stairs. The Donaldson's basement, at least the part I was in, was damn nice, completely finished and paneled.

There was a U shape of leather couches facing a fireplace. Over the fireplace was the largest flat panel television screen, I'd ever seen. I asked and was told that it was sixty-inch diagonal. Surround sound speakers were mounted in each corner. Mary Ellen got busy igniting the gas fireplace while the General refreshed everyone's drink. I suppose one criticism you could make of the family was that they drank too much. The family drink was Jameson's Reserve with a single cube of ice. Being an eager to please daughter-in-law, I'd switched from my usual vodka martini and gone to brown whisky.

Well I am part Irish. The room was large and didn't look that old. I'd guess its dimensions as twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep.

How nice and cozy I recall thinking as my future sister-in-law turned the gas up and flames warmed the room. Trace had gone over to a wall cabinet of electronics and opened the glass door. He took a DVD case out of his coat pocket and dropped it into the player.

Trace came back to the couch and sat down beside me. He put one hand on my bare knee and I remember thinking not in front of your folks, I want them to think I'm a lady. Events were about to prove I was an idiot. Since there had been so much wedding talk, I guessed that we might watch a video of Robbie and Denise's wedding or pictures of Trace as a kid, boring family history that you burden a perspective new family member with.

As soon as it flickered to life, he pressed the Play button on the DVD remote. It took a few seconds but there I was skirt pulled up to my waist, shaking my thong covered ass to Boogie Nights and licking the tip of the dildo that Trace gave me the night before. I had that good on my face that girls get when something nice first enters our pussy and we know there's more to come. I scanned the room to gage the family's reaction to "Rozz, The Dildo Fucking Slut" but everyone was staring at the screen.

I wanted to crawl under a rock. My future in-laws that I was trying so hard to impress would think I was absolute trailer trash. Later, I wondered what Lois meant by that remark. Decade ago, had the General taken Lois to meet his parents and shown them a 16MM home movie of Lois sucking his cock and taking it up her ass?

Possibly, military families are strong on tradition. I wanted to ask, "Gone through what" but stayed quiet. On screen I had shed my blouse and bra and was holding my boobs up sucking and licking my own nipples. I danced forward and Trace's head came into view as he leaned forward to suck and pinch my nipples. After the nipple work, I danced back, turned my head profile to the camera and placed the pussy-glistening dildo in my mouth.

I pushed on the base and drove that latex lover into my throat creating a bulge in my larynx that Trace's close-up captured for digital posterity. Now I'm a cock swallower par excellence," added Denise, his wife.

The way he said it implied Denise was just okay in the deep throat department. And the way Robbie glanced at me said that I was going to have an opportunity to provide my own comparison to the working girls of Korea. I was trying not to look stunned. Still, being asked to do a mental about face on the sexual practices of your future in-laws was straining my ability to process new and contradictory information.

Lois, my future mother-in-law had impressed me as the model for a military wife. She dressed and acted the perfect lady. We had even gone for high tea at the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Boston that afternoon when we took a break from shopping. High tea can you believe it. I didn't even know there was such a thing anymore. She was the epitome of a general's wife, impeccably coiffured, dressed in an expensive St.

John's knit suit, a woman who knew her place in life and was very comfortable in it. Mary Ellen, the youngest, was their high-energy daughter, pretty, petite, and smart. Robbie was the solid older brother, dedicated to the service of his country. Robbie had the General's military bearing and you could predict there was a general's star in his future. Denise had gone out of her way to welcome me to the family and see that I was comfortable. Like any mother she talked about her growing family detailing the accomplishments and failings of each child.

Denise was very attractive in a cool blonde way. She had a great body that she attributed to her devotion to power yoga. The General struck me as a model of moral rectitude. No nonsense, it's black or white type, devoted to his country, a man who considered leading men into battle mankind's highest calling. To sum it up, the Donaldson's appeared to be a family that belonged on the cover of Saturday Evening Post with an American flag as a backdrop.

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

She stood, hiked her knit skirt up, revealing she was wearing stay up hose and no panty. She quickly sat down throwing one leg over the couch arm, squeezed some lube on her fingers and applied it to her vagina. The fact that her two sons were in the room said everything there was to say about Donaldson familial relations. How many sons have seen their Mom oil up their snatch? I reminded myself it was a good thing he was bragging on his bride-to-be. I created a large wet spot when I fucked, the kind that made it hard to find a dry part of the bed to sleep on after a good long screwing.

She stuck out her tongue like a hooker does to get the John to pull over to the curb. I resisted the urge to move Trace's hand from my knee to my crotch. My libido was starting to take over. I'd never actually watched myself on video. In my freshman year, I'd allowed this guy I was dating to take some nude shots of me but they were more glamour shots meaning I wasn't stuffing dildo's in my cunt. I was getting turned on watching myself perform on camera.

My body looked great. As soon as Trace and I got engaged, I enrolled in an off base fitness club that offered what they called the 'Buff Brides Seminar'. Diet and exercise were the order of the day. As part of the eighteen-week course, I got thee one-hour sessions each week with a personal trainer.

The club assigned Slava as my personal trainer. Slava was a recent immigrant from the Ukraine with an H1-B work permit. He was training for the next Olympics. After an hour of close contact working on Nautilus machines and free weights, I found his body irresistible. I suggested that I visit Slava's apartment for some work on my pelvic thrusts. The man was a fucking machine. It was vanilla sex but great vanilla sex. I rationalized that since I hadn't said my wedding vowels yet, fidelity was not a requirement.

After I walked down the aisle I planned to be faithful. Well, that was the plan. Anyway, I burned up more calories and fat cells riding Slava's cock outside the club than exercising with him inside.

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

Robbie freed a tit from her bra and a large boob became visible. Denise had told me she had just taken her youngest off the tit a week ago. Her nipples had that big sloppy look women get when an infant is using them for a binky several hours a day.

He captured the big spongy nipple between his teeth and stretched it outward. Denise kept a smile on her face but I could tell he was hurting her. When he stopped, there were teeth marks on her areola.

I allowed my mind to fantasize that it was my knocker that he'd bit and I felt a reaction in my cunt. First week I was there, the upperclassmen take the female plebes into the restroom and use them for a urinal. You have to thank them after you drain their bladders," said Mary Ellen.

I decided that West Point must be more fun than I had envisioned. That provoked an immediate reaction from Lois and Mary Ellen. They unzipped his trousers then lowered them. They extracted his semi-hard cock from his boxers.

I had the opportunity to see what a general officer's cock looked like, pretty much the same as everybody else's. I pushed out of my mind that there was a genuine case of multiple incest happening a few feet away. Mary Ellen, the dutiful daughter had slipped her dress and bra off and was kneeling on the floor in front of her dad, sharing dick-sucking duties with her mother who was leaning over in her husband's lap.

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

That was followed by Trace's filling my mouth with piss and me swallowing several large mouthfuls. I glanced at Trace who had a "what are waiting for" look on his face. I stood up, reached back to unzip my dress, grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it over my head.

The bra and panty were off in a split second. I placed my hands on the General's naked thighs as I knelt down. Lois and Mary Ellen had gotten him hard and from my vantage point had been performing a credible job of head. However, maybe he was just proving a point.

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

For all her verbal protests, Lois's body language said she loved to have her ass whipped. She was shifting her butt from side to side as Trace fingers stroked between her labia.

He licked one finger and put a digit inside his Mom's anus. Mary Ellen said something I couldn't here but it must have been a request for some of Trace's handball action because he quickly placed his other hand on Mary Ellen's rear and started massaging her sex. I'd been in stocks before and it's hot as hell to have your cunt worked when you know the next step is a good ass whipping.

You're helpless, wondering how bad it's going to be and then somebody parts those pussy lips and strokes you where it counts. Fingers work their way into your cunt and asshole so you're penetrated and violated by whoever's back there.

Maybe it's the fact that you're aware that the moment's pleasure will be replaced by some serious pain and after that, a good fuck. A woman in a stock is truly helpless. She can't even see who is behind her. Her pussy and ass are completely vulnerable. Whoever designed the Donaldson's playroom was a genius. In its vanilla state, it looked like the comfortable home entertainment center of a Weston mansion. All the equipment and furnishings were hidden built-ins. Dark oak cabinets contained high quality implements for causing pain.

Wall panels concealed fold out benches, stocks, and crosses. The ceiling contained sliding panels that hid chains, hooks and racks that could be used to suspend a slave. During my time with the Donaldsons, I got to know the capabilities of that room first hand. My experience of home or even club dungeons was unpainted two by fours where utility not esthetics was the overriding concern.

If a whipping bench was upholstered, it was vinyl with cheap brass upholstery tacks. Overall quality was at the level of a decent vocational high school. Woods were solid, not veneers. Upholstery was either Italian leather or first quality French or Belgium chintz. It shouldn't matter whether the St. Andrews Cross that you stretched on while someone is whipping the flesh off your tits is made from Second Grade lumber from Home Depot or hand shaped mahogany or cherry but somehow it does.

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

I sucked my first dick when I was a ninth grader at Winthrop High School. I was invited to a friend's birthday party and we played a form of oral spin the bottle. There were no adults around. I won or lost the spin depending on how you look at it and had to spend ten minutes in the closet with Clarence Yates, a boy I thought was cute.

As soon as the closet door shut, Clarence unzipped his pants, pushed me to my knees and placed his cock against my lips. Given that I had never even kissed Clarence or held hands, it was a little further than I was prepared to go. I knew what he wanted. I wasn't stupid just inexperienced. I'm going to tell everybody you're frigid," said Clarence turning toward the door.

After all he was only asking me to do something I knew I was going to do someday soon Giving blowjobs was a frequent topic of conversation among my girl friends and me. The fact that you couldn't get pregnant made it a no risk situation. Besides, doing what the boys wanted made a girl popular. I blew Clarence, tasted semen for the first time not bad, not bad at all got a quick kiss for my efforts and returned to the game when the kitchen timer sounded.

Clarence showed he was a gentleman by complimenting me on my cocksucking in front of the others. I made several more trips to the closet that night and even got a few pointers on technique from an older kid named David something. Over the years, I honed my oral skills, learned to swallow cock for a throat massage from my science teacher, Mr. Kellogg who had a long skinny dick he nicknamed the tonsil tickler, and in general became a first class cock-sucking whore.

I was out to prove that to the General as I forced my head downward taking his cock past the opening of my throat. As I've said before, humiliation and degradation are the fuel that strokes my libido. Somehow, I lucked out and found a family just as interested in degrading me as I was in being degraded.

I looked up at the general to show him how much I was turned on by what he was doing. Behind me I heard the sound of canes swishing through air. I suppose Trace and Robbie were taking some practice swings limbering up their arms. I heard a, "ready" followed by the swish, the sound one of those flexible cane makes when it lands on bare flesh followed by two loud screams. My mother-in-law was a full-throated screamer but Mary Ellen came out with more of a loud yelp. After the next impact, both females managed to scream out one.

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

There wasn't any doubt in my mind that he meant it. I concentrated my efforts on the General's cock while behind me, the women counted each blow of the cane. My mother-in-law was having the shit whipped out of her by her oldest son and Trace was doing the same for his sister.

I found it hard to concentrate with all the screams and sobs behind me. At some point, they halted for a minute and I heard Robbie say, "Denise, get your ass over here.

Mother's ready to eat your pussy. Lois mumbled a sobbing yes and the whipping resumed. I could hear slurping sounds as Lois's mouth serviced her daughter-in-law's cunt. I handed it over and dove back to cocksucking. That old fuck's been interrogating Chechen POWs. He's got some good ones," said the General. Most contained scenes of torture that he had acquired over his career.

He had some rare vintage stuff practically dating back to the first cameras. He once made me ride his cock while I watched the Mine Police of the Peabody Coal Company torture the family of a Kentucky union organizer. It was made circa and transferred to DVD by some collector. It was silent and grainy black and white.

Still, you could get off watching the twelve-member family strung up naked in a shed being abused. The young girls were raped and the boys sodomised while the parents watched. The big burly thugs of the Mine Police took their time with the younger children. One of the daughters was pretty so they gang raped her.

The initials of the United Mine Workers, UMW, were branded onto both their buttocks and these were deep brandings the kind that left a horrible scar. They used bullwhips on the mother and father; smaller flails on the children. The youngest child looked to be six or eight. The fact that she was still a kid meant nothing to the Mine Police. She got the same abuse as the others. At the end, they castrated the father and the two oldest boys. They covered their wounds with hot tar to stop the bleeding then put the family on a coal train bound for Philadelphia.

I guess the struggles to unionize the coalfields were serious business. The general described it as an important piece of Americana, essential to understanding the history of our country. I had no idea where he got most of his collection and was afraid to ask. The DVD magazine had found what the general wanted. Over to one side, the whippings had ended. Trace and Robbie were fucking the women.

Mary Ellen was servicing Denise's pussy. Her feet were on the top of the stock and you could hear Denise encouraging her. I had a moment of doubt whether I wanted to marry into this family of incestuous sadists but I quickly suppressed the doubt.

I was into the same things they were and fucking my in-laws didn't strike me as beyond my limits. The screen opened with some weird Russian military march playing in the background. I was sitting astride the General raising and lowering myself as I massaged his nuts. His hands were working my tits hard. Loud screams drew my attention to the television where two chubby Chechen rebels were hung up by their tits.

The girl's feet were six inches off the floor. A wire cable looped around each dark red boob. The girl's hands were handcuffed behind their back. A couple of handsome young Russians were circling the girls.

The Russians were stripped to the waist and did not look bad at all. Each Ivan had some sort of electrical wand. When he touched their bare skin, you could see a blue electrical arc and then hear some of the most ungodly screams as the girls kicked and twisted. I usually wanted to do whatever my partner wants, especially if it was nastier. The General handed me some lube he got from an end table drawer. Astro-Glide seemed to be the house brand.

I lubed both of us up then slipped him past my anal ring. Trace and the others had finished and everyone gathered around to watch me take my father-in-law's cock up the ass.

On screen the Russians were still having their fun with the terrorists. They were using butane lighters to burn their armpits and behind their knees. The Chechen's were tough and they certainly could scream. I've never been hung by my boobs and don't intend to start. I've had them bound with sash cord at the base and whipped. It's weird how they balloon out and the veins appear. The DVD provided some arty images of the Chechen's tits in the partial sunlight from the shed's skylight.

A future Eisenstein allowed the camera to linger over the bloated breasts before switching to the anguished expressions on their faces. The Russians are prone to convert human suffering to great art. Ivans hauled the two girls further off the floor using the pulley and attached a net to their ankles. Soldiers loaded ten-kilogram weight plates into the net until each girl was carrying an extra two hundred pounds on their breasts.

There was more artsy camera work. You could tell the narrow cable was starting to cut through the skin. Blood was dripping down their abdomen. The General was watching the screen as I gave him the best ass fucking I knew how. I was squeezing his dick with my gluteus maximus each time I came up, then relaxing on the down stroke to take him up by shit chute as far as he could go. I was also doing a little wiggle when I hit bottom.

My hand was working his balls. I was pulling out all the stops for my new father-in-law. His eyes were fixed to the screen. I later learned that without that type of torture and snuff video stimulation, the General had a hard time getting his rocks off. There was a loud crash from the screen and one of the Chechens had separated from her tits. She was flopping around on the floor spewing two fountains of blood from her chest. She was already pretty used up and didn't flop long before she was still.

The other Chechen landed on the ground and that put the General in overdrive. He tightened his grip on my boobs repeating in a whisper some Russian phrase. Trace had told me his father spoke several languages. Finally the General hit the big O splashing his jism deep inside my ass mixing with my shit. I was covered with sweat and my nipples ached from his mauling.

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

I wanted my new father-in-law to like me. Tomorrow if she can't recognize and name the family, we're going to punish all of you. It will not be pleasant. I had no idea what he was talking about as I was pulled to my feet. Robbie and Trace pulled some wire cables with belted cuffs down from the ceiling and restrained me by my wrists. They adjusted the tension while Mary Ellen and Denise placed a spreader bar between my ankles forcing me into a wide legged stance.

In less than a minute, I was strung up. My feet barely touched the floor. Lois had loaded another DVD and there was a group picture on the big screen.

It looked like something you get on a Christmas card, husband, wife, daughter, and son. Everyone looked dressed for church. The screen changed and there was another family. Lois again read the names.

Intuitively, I understood I was supposed to be learning the names of their relations. We went through five sets of family pictures then back to the first one. I got three of the four correct so Denise only delivered one blow by the cane on my ass.

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

Mary Ellen took my left nipple in her mouth and sucked so hard I wanted to scream. When she had my dug stretched out, Denise grabbed the very end between her nails and pulled it out while Lois let the jaws of the clamp snap shut at the base. I lost control and screamed my head off. That slowed absolutely nobody down. The three women repeated their procedure on my other nipple. It was the kind of mind numbing pain that gets in your head. The next set of family pictures were displayed in sequence and Denise laid a dark red stripe across my ass every time I made a mistake.

I figured my ass was beginning to look like a street map of NYC. I centered myself and focused. I managed to learn them and got through the review with a since mistake.

Trace retrieved a tall aluminum tube from a hidden closet. It had a square platen on one end and a very nasty looking dildo on the other.

It was one of those kinds where the latex had been molded into sharp spikes that covered the surface. I'd seen that kind used before to punish a disobedient slave. A vagina is a sensitive area and having it raked with hard latex spikes hurts. The positioned the tube under me and worked the dildo inside my vagina while I shrieked in agony.

I was begging Trace to stop. That was pointless of course. He knew what I really needed. The platen was bolted to the floor and the height adjusted. Robbie held me in place by pushing down on my shoulders until it felt like the tip of that dildo was going to come out my navel. I was still resting on the balls of my feet but barely.

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

Amyl nitrate brought me around and the name learning process resumed. To keep it interesting, Denise switched to a different type of whip and there was a new and exciting type of pain each time I made a memory mistake. My pain clouded brain struggled to focus.

I would lift the five toes of each foot off the floor then set them down one by one. I'd always used that before to maintain my concentration under duress. The pussy buster was kept cocked so at any moment they could almost instantaneously immerse in pain. It had a pile driver effect. The shock went in waves up my backbone and bounced around in my brain.

Denise and Mary Ellen started caning me back and front when I failed to recognize a member of their clan. They kept at me until 4: It was the most prolonged and intense whipping I ever endured.

Mary Ellen would masturbate me as a distraction or force a nasty looking dildo up my ass. Denise ass fucked me with a strap on while I named family members. They called that making sure I displayed grace under pressure.

When they finally uncuffed me, I could correctly identify all seventy-eight members of the Donaldsons'extended family. I couldn't walk however and my back and buttocks were on fire. I had to be helped back to Trace and my room. I slept until noon. I had to dig deep in my stash of painkillers to make it through the day. That's one of the few perks of being a nurse. I guess that my capacity to learn under pressure impressed the Donaldsons.

The General and Lois presented me with a pair of stunning diamond earrings to wear to the party. Mary Ellen told me how pleased she was with me as a sister.

She and I helped each other apply body makeup to cover last night's bruises and scrapes. That night at the country club I was able to correctly greet and name almost all the guests.

In fact, according to Lois, I didn't miss a one of the seventy-six I'd been trained on. The engagement party was very elegant. So when approaching the wake Mary Ellen warned me about not forgetting family members, my mind flashed back to that night and I pictured each of those photos clearly in my mind. He was my father-in-law's brother, Trace's uncle. Corwin was the black sheep who broke tradition and went to the Air Force Academy instead of West Point.

His wife Cornelia and their teenage son Corwin Junior and daughter Priscilla were standing there too looking down at my medal festooned pussy and tits. I'd not been to many military wakes and I hadn't recalled that one of the traditions was to display the fallen heroes medals beside the coffin.

I suppose when you think about it, Mary Ellen had shown considerable creativity in pinning Trace's medals to my labia and using my pussy as a display case. Flying home, I had expected that the Trace's family would treat me with the respect due their son's wife and widow. What I hadn't known was that some prick had sent Trace a DVD containing over two hundred images and a couple of MPEG videos of me going wild during hospital staff parties. He'd forwarded that on to his family right before his Humvee drove over the mine.

Apparently, he also said he was going to divorce my whoring ass as soon as he got back from Afghanistan. I guess the video of me pulling a train for a dozen black orderlies then doing some serious muff diving with a pair of Latino nurses struck them as improper behavior for their son's wife.

The finale of the video was me doing a bukkake with the orderlies. My face was uniformly covered with jism that I greedily shoved into my mouth and swallowed. I was so fucking out of it I don't recall anyone with a camcorder taking close-ups of me acting like a pig whore. One other problem was that I appeared to be having the time of my life. I was the epitome of a cock-crazed slut. My explanation that I was drunk out of my mind and doing serious drugs did not impress my in-laws.

I made a note to never again inject 20CC of Demerol into my femoral artery. It had seemed like a great idea at the time. As soon as I hobbled into the funeral home with Mary Ellen tugging on my leash, she unzipped my St. John's knit dress and made me step out of it. I experienced the utter shame and humiliation of being naked in front of half a hundred well-dressed members of the extended Donaldson family. Mary Ellen hadn't allowed me to wear any underwear so I was fully on display.

I have to admit the exhibitionist in me came into play and my nipples hardened when I realized there were a hundred eyes staring at me. I was left standing attired in black stay ups. They were the expensive kind, Wolford's Satin Touch 20 with the four-inch band of black lace at the top, very sexy but not entirely appropriate for a wake. For an all American family, they didn't have any problem with dressing their daughter-in-law in the finest German made hosiery.

Not surprisingly, my ridiculously high five-inch Ferragamo pumps with ankle straps were manufactured in Milan, Italy. They were damn hard to walk in especially with my sister-in-law jerking my leash when she felt the urge. Circling my waist was a leather belt of unknown origin. Piast Dynasty 9th century - Kiedy slonce bylo bogiem An Ancient Tale: Haperek Ha'aharon Marco Polo: Japan Early Medieval Period: House of Habsburg Maximilian I Borgias: Union of Sweden and Norway: False Dmitry I Imperial Spain 16th to 17th centuries: Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay, ; devastation for Paraguay Haiti: Capetian Dyanasty, House of Borbon Restored Edward the Seventh a.

Lee "Disneyland" Willie and the Yank: Phaak prakaat itsaraphaap The Legend of Naresuan: First Spanish Republic House of Borbon Second Restoration The Story of Gen.

Khartoum -- Morocco: Pre-World War I Period. Victor Emmanuel II Cannon for Cordoba -- soldiers against Mexican bandits on the Texas border ca. Tsar Alexander II the Liberator Ventsenosnaya semya The Romanovs: My nash, my novyy Interim Period Between World Wars. Scott Fitzgerald Spirit of St. FDR was quite a political figure in her own right.

A Story of Huey P. X Blue Brave: Second Spanish Republic Spain: Finns prepare for Soviet attack in Karelian region. Hunde, wolt ihr ewig leben?

Dogs, Do you Want to Live Forever? The Fall of Berlin: The Decline and Fall of Il Duce a. English and Hungarian languages. Planning of the Holocaust: Janusz Korczak runs a Jewish orphanage in Poland; he and his orphans are sent to Treblinka on August 6, Warsaw Ghetto and Uprising Warsaw, Poland: Un eroe italiano Perlasca: War Criminals Escape and the Search for Them: Zycie za zycie Life for Life: Nan Jing da tu sha Black Sun: Atom Bomb Manhattan Project: Unmei no toki Pride: The Story of H.

Blame It on Fidel! First Chechen War Dec. Ek Prem Katha Mutiny: Truman, president, Give 'Em Hell, Harry!

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