Torture The Widow

Chapter 8 – Sisterly Love 2

Please take note! Adults Only Literature

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

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

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

Copyright 2004

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Oh please, spare me. Have you ever heard such obnoxious bullshit? Brooke is an absolute hypocrite. She calls me a slut. I'm not the one who my sophomore year in high school went into the boy's locker room with another slut and sucked off the football team. The coach caught her and she was suspended for three days. Nor was I the one who got so drunk at her junior prom that she didn't object when her date sold her ass for $100 to this business man he met in the lounge at the Marriott. After the guy fucked her, he dumped her unconscious naked body in a laundry gurney, put it on the elevator and sent it down to the crowded lobby. Her date bragged to the entire school that he pimped her for a Ben Franklin. She makes the worst choices when it comes to men.

As for Regine and Chloe, those two self-righteous bimbos used to make pocket money working bachelor parties where they did mega-fucking. I'm talking taking on a crowd of horny guys and doing the groom right out in front of everybody. I've seen them come back to the dorm with their hair matted down with cum and every orifice leaking the good stuff.

I'll recall the rest of her nonsense and leave it to the reader to decide.

After Trace issued his orders, the men picked me up and tied me to the bed. Leather straps bound my wrists and ankles to the headboard. Someone shoved a pillow behind my head and another under my butt. I was in the same position you were Rozz except I wasn't wearing a wedding veil. How utterly shameful the way you acted on your wedding day. You should know you were moaning and making sounds like you were enjoying what they were doing to you. I'm surprised Trace didn't have the wedding annulled.

I was shaking like a leaf, utterly terrified and begging them not to rape me. I felt so exposed and vulnerable as this big soldier climbed up on the bed with a hardon. He put his hand on my pussy then forced a finger in my vagina. He grinned at me when the digit glided inside my vagina.

"Why you little slut, you're already wet," he said as he withdrew his glistening finger and held it up for me to see.

Poor Regine and Chloe say they were identically bound on twin beds in an adjacent room. Chloe cried her eyes out when she told me what happened. This was after Charles dumped her for in his words demonstrating what a drunken harlot she was. We three girls have spent hours in Starbucks and at O'Hare's talking about what happened. While we accept some responsibility, it's you Rozz that are mainly to blame since it was your wedding. And it was your in-laws family and friends that did those awful things to us.

It's not by accident that all four of us were tied in the same way. Those soldiers had done this sort of thing before. I heard them talking about it. They laughingly referred to it as Rape SOP where SOP stood for Standard Operating Procedure, a military term. I'd hazard a guess we weren't the first women those GIs had tied up and raped in exactly that way.

It's hard to imagine how you could be made more available to a rapist. You head is propped up against the headboard so you can see what's happening. Also it allows them using their own twisted military terminology to 'skull fuck' you.

What an ugly way to describe making love to a man's penis with your mouth. From the eight grade onward, I've always taken a great deal of pride in my skill and willingness to provide oral pleasure. Men appreciate and value a woman who knows how to give good head. Referring to such a beautiful act as 'skull fucking' is sick and perverted. I don't care if those soldiers are our country's heroes, they should be more careful with their language.

My wrists were tied to the outer post of the headboard. My ankles were tied inches above my wrists. It's a good thing I'm a gymnast and flexible. Poor Regine had trouble walking after we released her. She said it felt like her hip sockets were dislocated.

Their Rape SOP provided access to all three of our holes. I found out pretty quickly that I could be skull fucked while another soldier was raping my ass or pussy. Once I was tied down, things happened quickly.

"Kiss it," said the soldier straddling me and placing his cock against my lips.

I kissed it although it smelled like it had just left someone's pussy. I suspect that was yours, Rozz. Regardless you know how horny I get when I'm drunk and know I'm going to be taken advantage of and there's nothing I can do about it. Still, I hate my weakness for enjoying forced intercourse.

"Now lick it, you stupid bitch, and tell me how good it tastes," said the soldier.

I have a hard time maintaining my sense of morality when I'm being verbally humiliated. I eagerly passed my tongue over his slimy cock head.

"It tastes wonderful. I love the taste of a dirty dick," I said continuing to lick the glandular secretions of your pussy mixed with semen off his pole. My eagerness was showing. My control was slipping away.

"Open wide slut," said the soldier pushing his rigid member past my lips. I got a better understanding why the term 'skull fucking' was accurate. My head was pinned against the headboard and could barely move. On the other hand the soldier had complete freedom of movement and he proceeded to use his hips to rock back and forth thrusting deeper and deeper into my mouth. In a matter of moments, he was forcing himself into my throat causing me to gag.

"Choke on that cock," said the soldier when I gagged. Drool spilled over my lower lip when he withdrew. He gave me a second to recover then back in he went this time cutting off my air supply.

"What's the matter, cunt, can't breathe," taunted the soldier looking down on me with a grin on his face as I struggled to bring air in through my nose and down to my lungs. He placed his fingers over my nose pinched my nostrils shut and I panicked. His cock was blocking my windpipe. I started thrashing from side to side totally freaked out.

"Knock it off, Simpson, this ain't Afghanistan," said Robbie who was standing nearby.

Simpson reluctantly released my nostrils and pulled his dick out of my mouth. I took a deep breath to refill my lungs. Smothering is not my preferred way to die. My eyes were watering. Simpson wiped his slimy cock over my face.

"Major says I can't have any more fun with you."

"I couldn't breathe, please, just fuck me," was all I could manage.

"Funny, neither could that woman in at Gardez that knew where her husband was hiding but wouldn't let us in on the secret."

"She told you after you smothered her with your cock," I asked?

"No, she didn't say a word, she just choked to death on my peter," said Simpson allowing his cock head to rest just inside my mouth. I was doing my best to suck it and keep him happy. There was a yearning in my cunt that I wanted satisfied. I needed cock inside me.

"Her sister gave him up when she saw what happened and we told her she was next," said Simpson.

"Hurry up, Simpson, you're not the only one that wants a piece of the bride's sister," said someone I couldn't see.

"Those whores in the other room, are they friends of yours?" said Simpson.

"Yes, they go to nursing school with Rozz and me."

"I'll fuck them next. Where do want it, pussy or ass?"

"Pussy."

"Your getting it in the ass," said Simpson as he moved down. He applied spit to his cock and my rectum then shoved his dick past my anal ring in a manner calculated to cause me maximum discomfort. Every damn sex manual says the secret to enjoying anal is to take it slow. Simpson must have read those manuals with the opposite intent. He forced his penis in as far as it would go in one swift thrust. I screamed in pain that occasioned some laugher and encouraging comments from his comrades. If a girl as looking for sympathy and understanding from that bunch she was looking in the wrong place.

As Simpson ass fucked me, he discovered my nipples and proceeded to use his teeth and fingers to cause me pain. Begging him to stop seemed to encourage him. Regine and Chloe were subjected to the same kind of brutal behavior. This is an excerpt I wrote down from a conversation we had at Starbucks.

"You know since they're soldiers defending our country, I didn't mind them raping me. I just wish they hadn't gone about it so rough," said Chloe sipping her latte.

"I agree that putting out for the men in uniform is patriotic in the war against terror. But did they have to chew my nipples off," said Regine. Some sadist had actually bitten both her nipples off during intercourse. Poor Regine thinks that her disfigured breasts are one of the reasons that Keith told her to move her stuff out of his apartment.

Regine has consulted a plastic surgeon to repair the damage. She's expecting you and Trace to pay for the reconstructive surgery or she's planning to sue.

"Thank God they only mangled mine. I thought that I was also going to come back to college nipple less," said Chloe.

"Mine looked and felt like they'd been in a blender," I said. All three of us had deep bite marks on our breasts that haven't healed. I bet we have scars.

"My throat was sore for a week. I sucked on a lozenge from morning to night," said Chloe. She was referring to the after effect of having multiple cocks forced down your throat.

"My asshole still looks like hamburger," I said.

"I'm surprised we didn't get an infection or some horrible disease. My back door was a little nasty and they kept making me clean their cocks with my tongue," said Regine.

"Oh, you too, isn't that the most disgusting thing anyone ever made you do," I said.

"I never heard of a wedding where the guests were forced to eat their own shit until your sister's," said Chloe.

Rozz, I lost track of the times that cocks covered with feces were presented to my mouth to clean. I'm a fastidious person about things like that. If Coleman wants anal, he has to tell me beforehand so I can take a mini-douche to clean out my rectum. My idea of personal hygiene is not having a penis covered in my own feces thrust in my mouth for a tongue bath.

Of course, you Rozz were too drunk to mind that men were pushing shit-stained cocks in your mouth. One of my last memories of you that day was your head hanging off the bed while one of the last soldiers left standing skull fucked you. After he finished I looked over at you and saw there wide brown stains around your mouth. What a disgusting pig you were on your wedding day.

After Simpson finished, another soldier replaced him. He finished quickly and I was mounted again before I had a chance to catch my breath. After that they rolled on and off me ever few minutes. Mostly it was one at a time but there were occasions when I had a cock in my mouth and another one in my ass or pussy.

I'm genetically predisposed to enjoy impersonal sex I'm sorry to say. And there's nothing more impersonal than a gang rape. You don't know their names and their faces blend together after a while. Its quick, brutal, and it goes on until your body parts are rubbed raw and you can't distinguish between pleasure and pain. Each thrust hurts like hell but you don't want it to stop. You glad when one guy finishes but even happier when the next one mounts you.

I've spent some time talking about this with Doctor Graves, my therapist. He considers me a very interesting case. He plans to organize a seminar of his colleagues and me at his cabin in the White Mountains.

At some point the soldier with the giant cock raped me. I'm not very large down there and his penis felt like somebody was showing the blunt end of a baseball bat in my pussy. If my vagina wasn't already soaked in semen from a dozen ejaculates and stretched to the hilt, he would probably have ruptured something.

Oddly, enough, he made me tell him my cell phone number. He promised to call me and take me out for dinner when he's home on leave. He's from this area.

Lex, that his name, gives the kind of fuck a girl finds it hard to forget. Long smooth strokes that end up in territory not previously visited. He was sweet about it too. He thumbed my clit as he screwed me and I got off while that club of his was rummaging around in my cervix or was it my womb. It was awesome. Since you owe me could you do me a favor and ask Trace or Robbie for Lex's email address. I'd like to stay in touch.

After Lex finished, I lost track of time. I got a bad case of pussy farts that occasioned more than one round of humiliating laughter. Why am I susceptible to them? Some of the nicer rapists honored my request for clit action and I climaxed fairly regularly. I suppose that before it was over, I had gotten my head into the gang rape and was encouraging them to abuse me. Once again I blame you for putting me in that predicament.

How many times were we raped? Chloe says she lost count after fourteen. She estimates between thirty and fifty but that sounds ridiculous. I recall overhearing conversations where soldiers who had raped all four of us compared notes. It was after mid night when the soldiers gave up and the dyke soldier appeared on the scene. That was weird.

Her name was Gwen and she was an Amazon. Muscles rippled on her tattooed covered body. She looked like a mixture of Latina and American Indian packed into a six-foot package that few men would like to face in the dark. She reminded me of one of those women you see on television competing in the Miss Fitness America contest. Given that there was not an ounce of body fat on the rest of her, I doubt that her large and very firm breasts were real.

"Let's get you untied," said Gwen. She was wearing a thong made out of that camouflage material our soldiers wear. That and a pair of combat boots completed her attire.

Gwen finished untying me and helped me out of bed. I'd been on my back for over four hours. I'd been raped countless times. When I stood up, my cunt and asshole expelled a large quantity of semen that cascaded down my thighs.

"How about my sister?" I said when I got to my feet. I got the surprise of my life when I saw what was happening with you.

Rozz, there was a young girl and I mean very young between your legs licking your pussy. You were moaning and carrying on as this sweet and innocent looking teen engaged in a serious session of rug munching. She was start naked and if a day over fourteen I'd be shocked. Twelve might have been more like it.

"There you are, Priscilla, we've been looking all over for you," said another women who had just entered the room. Based on resemblance I took her to Priscilla's mother. Mom was wearing stay ups and pumps. There was a bite mark on one of her breasts.

"Help me untie Rosalind. She pulled a train for Robbie's entire unit," said Priscilla.

I did recall the woman's name because I thought it was an unusual one. It was Cornelia and she was the wife of your father-in-law's youngest brother. Cornelia in no way seemed surprised to find her daughter eating your well-fucked pussy Rozz. What kind of perverted family did you marry into? These people may have money, power, influence, etc, but they have the morals of an alley cat.

Another woman wearing a sexy lace garter belt, hose, and pumps arrived. She had a nasty bruise on her cheek and when she turned around there were whelps covering her butt.

"Hi Cornelia, finally we get our turn with the bride. I'm surprised there's much left after Robbie's unit got through with her. Oh, hi Gwen and you're Brooke, Rozz's sister, I'm Patrice."

Patrice walked over and lay a serious tongue's thrashing kiss on Gwen. After Gwen, it was my turn to be on the receiving end of Patrice's tongue action. After all the rough and tumble I'd received over the last few hours, some nice gentle girl on girl action seemed like something my soul required.

"Oh you are so sweet, such a soft warm mouth," was what you cooed from the bed. Patrice and Cornelia were untying you and your eyes were open for a change. Little Priscilla was going to town on your sex. From the way she was going about it, I could tell yours was not the first pussy that Priscilla had eaten.

"Let's get the other two brides maid untied and then let's shower," said Gwen to me. A shower sounded terrific. I was caked with semen. Dried semen was matted in my hair and there were big splotches of the stuff on my face.

"Enjoy," said Cornelia as we left. When I looked back, I could see that you were awake at last. Cornelia and Patrice were pushing the twin beds together and Priscilla was munching your rug.

Regine and Chloe were still tied up. There was a naked soldier passed out on the floor. Some clown had stuck champagne bottles in the girl's ass and pussy. According to Regine and Chloe the finale had included shaking up a bottle of the 1996, uncorking it and inserting the spewing bottle in each of the girl's orifices. A good hard shove had buried the bottle inside. Both girls were moaning and whimpering. Regine had two nasty wounds where her nipples used to be.

I removed the champagne bottles much to the relief of the girls. We untied them. Regine screamed like a banshee when she straightened her legs.

"Let's go to my room. We can all shower and clean up," said Gwen.

It turned out that Gwen is a Lieutenant Colonel in something called Delta Force. She missed the wedding due to a late flight and only arrived when the reception was half over. Gwen is the adopted daughter of your father-in-law. Her father was killed in Vietnam saving the General's life. Her mother had died leaving no other relative so General Donaldson adopted her and raised her as his own. That's a pretty decent thing to do. I don't get the Donaldsons. Gwen characterized them as perverts with a strong sense of patriotism and honor.

Normally, I'm not one for lesbianism but somehow the situation called for it. We went to Gwen's suite in the mansion, took a shower and the four of us curled up in her king sized comfortable bed. There was one of those flat panel screen televisions on the wall. At first, we were all two keyed up to sleep. Gwen loaded a hardcore lesbian DVD into the player, opened a drawer of dildos, vibrators, anal love beads, clit stimulators and butt plugs. It was quite a collection.

One of the DVDs was about this girl's first fisting. I'd never been fisted so I asked Gwen to fist fuck me and she obliged. She donned a pair of latex gloves and coved my cunt in a lubricant favored by lesbians. It's called Probe and it does slick up your hole so large objects slide right in.

Chloe joined in. Regine had gone to sleep with two big band-aids on the breasts. Gwen gave everyone a couple of Vicodin to get over the pain of the gang rape. I fisted Gwen and Chloe. That was a first for me. It's very erotic to have your entire hand inside a vagina and then have the same done to you. We fooled around until 3:00AM then curled up together and slept until mid afternoon.

After dressing, we met our three dates that had been looking for us all over the house. They like us looked considerably the worse for wear. We were all terribly hungry so we helped ourselves to the large buffet. The food was terrific. I felt like I was dining at the Four Seasons. We politely thanked our host and hostess and departed.

In summary, I can only say it was the most bizarre and outlandish wedding reception I could possibly imagine. Although the part with Gwen was pretty nice, the rest sucked. I persuaded Coleman to write an account of what happened to the guys. It's pretty sick but here it is.

Sister or not, Brooke is a bimbo airhead. We can all agree with that. Regine and Chloe are in the same IQ range. The stupid cunts got fucked half to death and never figured out it was a setup.

It's time for a little confession. At the start of the reception, I had the following conversation with Robbie and Trace.

"Rozz, Robbie and I invited our unit to the reception, it was sort of last minute," said Trace.

"You mentioned that already, your mom said there was plenty of food and booze for everyone," I replied.

"True, but, we're short on the other commodity, poontang," said Robbie.

"Other than call an escort service, what are our options," I asked?

"We were thinking Brooke and your other two bridesmaids might want to do their patriotic duty, they young and attractive," said Robbie. "I'd let Denise help out but at eight's month's pregnant."

"How many are they?" I asked.

"Twenty two I think. I'm not exactly sure," said Trace.

"Twenty two, you're talking about pulling a train, not pulling some soldier into a spare bedroom for a quickie," I said.

"So they wouldn't be up for it even after you explained how the much the guys have been through in Afghanistan," said Robbie.

"Why worry about whether they are up for it. Let's get them drunk along with their dates. Tell your guys to treat it as a commando operation. When they get a chance, take them inside. Tie them up like you do me Trace and fuck their brains out. Brooke pulled her first train when she was a sophomore in high school. Regine and Chloe are also experienced at gangbangs. Those girls have engaged in team sports before," I said.

"Their dates won't mind," said Robbie.

"I wouldn't worry about it," I said.

Of course at the time, I didn't realize that Trace would add me to the rape party or that the two brothers on that solemn day would do me together. I have only a vague memory of the two of them pulling me out from under the table and taking me inside.

Because it hurt like hell, I do recall that they managed to get both their cocks in my pussy and asshole. You're talking serious and painful stretching when the Donaldson brother's cocks are sharing your holes. Later, I learned it was all part on the male bonding process.

On our honeymoon, Trace explained how Special Ops soldiers were especially close with one another and sharing a wife or girl friend with a horny comrade-in-arms was considered the proper thing to do.

Simon got pictures of the whole thing. His assistant worked the other bedroom where Regine and Chloe were raped. Oh, by the way, Trace and I did pay for a doctor to reconstruct Regine's nipples. They looked as good as new when he was done.