Torture The Widow

Chapter 34 – Family Style S&M

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

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

Copyright 2004

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"It hurts," complained Monique. "My tummy hurts."

"Why are they doing this to us, Rozz?" asked Carl. "My guts are ready to burst. I got to shit."

"Please Ma'am, I got to go potty," whined Sandra to Wynona.

The Witherows were getting an enema together courtesy of the Mapes and my temporary brood did not understand the whats and whys of intestinal irrigation. I didn't want to frighten them by saying something like; "They're cleaning your gastrointestinal tract out so when they stick their hand up your ass they won't get shit on it. It's supposed to hurt. Welcome to the world of S&M." I merely said it must be part of their ritual and try to relax.

As if anyone could relax with your guts cramping like all hell. The Mapes certainly knew how to give an enema. I would have sold my soul to evacuate my bowels. Still like any enema freak, the agony of the cramps is followed by the unalloyed joy of empting your guts in long powerful spews of filthy brown water that smell like overripe shit. A true enema lover adores the foul odor they make when the half processed feces explodes into the light of day.

It was the end of the second day of cutting cane for the Mapes plantation. After dinner, Ellis Mapes informed we slaves that the Witherows were invited up to the big plantation house for the evening. That morning when the Sheffields came stumbling down from the plantation house I asked Deirdre what had happened. I was sure I had heard her screaming the night before.

"We're forbidden to talk about it,' replied a tight lipped Deirdre who looked considerable the worse for wear. "They said if we told anyone that we would regret it and believe me they can make you sorry you were born." Deirdre moved away from me looking worried that she had said too much. The Sheffields were moving gingerly and their backside was covered with fresh whelps. Deirdre nipples had the telltale signs left by alligator clamps. Sarah, Deirdre's usually sarcastic and snippy acting stepdaughter looked like someone had definitely taken the wind out of her sails. She was hobbling around moving as if her pussy had been raped with a sandpaper cock, a distinct possibility when I thought about it.

So when Ellis informed us that we Witherows were next I got excited as only an S&M pain pig can when she suspects a full blown torture session is in the offing.

Ellis made us wipe our feet at the front door then led us through the nicely appointed home to the basement. The Mapes may have looked and talked liked the locals but they sure lived much better.

"Mapes Plantation was started in 1735 by the youngest son of Lord Stanhope, Lyle. It was originally named Caroline Plantation after his first wife. It was abandoned in 1760 when Anthony Stanhope was killed by Caroline's lover who happened to be one of the slaves that worked the plantation. The authorities hung both the murderer and his family for the crime," said Ellis as we were walking toward the large mansion. "They were my forbearers."

I figured Caroline Stanhope had encountered an ancestor of Amos and discovered the joy of being stuffed with enough black dick to make her toes curl. Lyle Stanhope must have happened upon their adultery and engaged the fornicator in fisticuffs where he lost his life.

"The plantation was restarted by Phillip Stanhope in 1770, a cousin and continued in operation under several of his descendants until 1947 when my grandfather who had made a considerable fortune during World War II returned to the island of his birth and purchased it. Approximately three thousand acres are cultivated in sugar cane. An additional thousand are planted in a variety of other crops. We are currently building a winery in hopes of creating a product suitable for export," added Ellis.

I looked over at my make believe husband who was eagerly following Ellis' lecture. I could tell Sam would have loved to be taking notes and asking questions.

Ellis conducted us down a hall and through a doorway that lead to stairs descending into a spacious, clean, dry basement that was well equipped for a variety of S&M practices. I immediately sized up the situation and Sam had some understanding that the various racks, posts, whipping benches, whips, and chains were not part of a museum exhibit. But I don't think my ersatz three stepchildren had a clue.

"Oh shit," whispered Sam almost under his breath.

The rest of the Mapes were waiting for us, Wynona, her teenage children, Mathew and Alisha and Ellis's brother Ed and his wife Bea. They were fully tricked out in S&M garb that would have passed quite nicely at NYC's Hellfire Club. Seeing that the Mapes family was about to engage in an S&M session with the Witherow family as submissives set me to wondering about the role of family life in the practice of sado-masochism. I'd heard of parent and siblings as S&M practitioners but never met one. Most S&M parents keep their lifestyle a secret from their minor sons and daughters. Certainly there were plenty of man and wife teams practicing together but I couldn't think of anyone else outside of my in-laws the Donaldsons who treated S&M as the family hobby like it was camping or sailing.

S&M was growing more mainstream in America. It was almost as easy to buy a whip as a loaf of bread. Would the future be families of dominants whipping the shit out of families of submissives? Instead of inviting your neighbors over for cocktails would it be an invite to experience hot candle wax dripping on their privy parts.

That brought up the more personal question of why Rosalind Donaldson considered being outfitted with nipple clamps a desirable condition. I'd taken every psychology course my college offered in an attempt to find out what mutant synapse in my brain led me to love a good thrashing. But I never came close to understanding why the agony of a tawse across my buttocks stimulated my Bartholin glands to manufacture lubricant and my clit to stand at attention. The fact that I could orgasm from the effect of an expert whipping made me a data outlier on the continuum representing womankind's reaction to extreme pain. Studies have shown that females who can auto-climax while being whipped are rare.

"We'll start by thoroughly cleaning you out," announced Bea interrupting my reverie. The Mapes took the Witherows by the hand and seated us in a row of five enema chairs. I looked around appreciating their dungeon as Ellis Mapes strapped me down.

Whoever designed the Mapes family dungeon had done a terrific job. (It turned out to be Edward Mapes, Ellis' brother.) Rows of incandescent bulbs hung from the ceiling providing excellent lighting. The floor was non-slip tile interspersed with multiple drain traps. There were water faucets with neatly coiled hoses conveniently placed along the walls. Piss, shit, blood, vomit, snot, saliva, etc could all be quickly washed away. Equipment cabinets lined the far wall. Restraints were primarily Velcro that in my opinion is much faster and easier to work with than leather that becomes stiff and inflexible over time especially when it is repeatedly soaked in body fluids. Plus Velcro is washable.

Ed, who I later learned was a gifted craftsman and amateur inventor, had created an enema chair that he should patent. It had a tubular metal frame with a broad base for stability. The frame held a rotatable molded plastic chair with an adjustable rim seat. There were Velcro straps for your torso, legs, and arms.

I noted that over in the corner were more of the enema chairs and they were stackable. That struck me as a stroke of genius. It's one thing to design an enema chair but to make it stackable takes brilliance. Ed Mapes was obviously an undiscovered talent when it came to designing S&M apparatus. I made a mental note to inform the General about Ed's chairs.

Once secure in the plastic chair, Ellis released a stop and rotated me one hundred and eighty degrees. I was now upside down ass pointed toward the ceiling. Ed ran his hand over my sex pushing a finger in my holes for reasons of male curiosity and to emphasize I was a slave open to his probing. He pulled my labia apart and used his thumbs to open my vagina then leaned in and gave me several long licks that caused me to sigh with pleasure. The first moments of an S&M session where I am totally helpless and the dominant conducts a manual investigation of my sex organs is always a treasured one. A man I didn't know had his fingers inside my pussy feeling around. There was nothing I could do about it. What could be better than that?

"Will this hurt, Rozz?" asked Sandra alarmed at having her butt pointed toward the ceiling while Mathew conducted his own inspection of her private parts.

"Yes, but it usually hurts some people more than others," I replied.

"Honey, we can't have you shitting all over the place," added Wynona.

"I wouldn't do that," said Sandra.

"We'll see," said Wynona playing the role of the wise matriarch.

"Quit whining, you two," said Carl directing his remark to his sisters. Since our fantasy vacation began Carl had developed a taste for practices requiring objects to be inserted in his ass; so he was anxious to get started. Bea had several fingers in his anus and she was stroking his cock occasionally licking the head.

"Some people do this for fun," I said seeking to console Sandra and Monique.

"Your Momma's right. Lots of folks get their jollies from being cleaned out. There are chat rooms on the Internet for people who just love the clyster," said Bea.

"Clyster, what's that?" asked Sandra. I had to admit that the children did gain important knowledge on the trip.

"That's the water nozzle I'm going to stick up your bottom in a minute. Here's what it looks like. My husband Ed made these in his shop. They're stainless steel," said Bea holding up a shiny six inch enema nozzle that had a black inflatable collar. Tubing to the collar connected it to the inflation bulb obviously adapted from a standard blood pressure instrument.

Ed worked some lube in my anus then pushed the nozzle inside and inflated the rubber collar.

"Ah," I sighed as I felt my rectum being forced open to accept the clyster.

"Stop," screamed Monique as the cold metal found its way past her anus.

"Calm down," I whispered to Monique and Sandra who were getting overly anxious at having six inches of cold stainless steel shoved in their behinds. The pressure created by inflating the rubber collar that was just inside their rectum caused them further alarm but Carl responded favorably with a long pleasurable sigh. Males have the advantage of a prostate. I predicted a future in which Carl would be no stranger to intestinal irrigation.

"What are you using for a solution?" I asked Wynona as she wheeled in a cart containing five two-liter pumpkin style enema bags.

"An old Mapes family recipe, sterilized sea water mixed with local herbs," answered Wynona. Interesting I thought. The only old family recipe in my family was for peach cobbler.

The bags were suspended from hooks in the ceiling. Hospital style tubing connected bag to nozzle. Ellis made a final check to see that all was properly done. He gave Carl's anal collar a few extra pumps.

"Yeah man, that feels good," breathed Carl. Sam looked a little worried at that remark. Having a potential gay son takes some getting used to.

"Can't have you blowing out all over the place," said Ellis as he squeezed the black rubber bulb expanding and tightening Carl's gasket. "Now, it's tight as a frog's butt."

"Release on three," said Mathew taking hold of the stopcock in the tubing above Sandra.

Mathew counted to three and I immediately felt the warm water trickle into my bowels. I've had everything from plain tap water to heated wine in my guts but I have to say that the Mapes family recipe created the worst cramps I had ever experienced. My intestines took on a life of their own. I could feel my large intestine squirming around inside my body cavity and the pain was intense. I was also sweating like a pig.

"Suck my cock while I rub your belly," said Ellis pulling off the Velcro fastened codpiece covering his peter then placing it against my lips.

Sucking cock while upside down and experiencing intense abdominal cramps is not easy but I managed it. Sandra was working on Mathew's pecker and Monique was gobbling Ed's. Carl and his dad were munching rug from Bea and Alisha who had held back from earlier involvement but had now joined in. Alisha was humping her pussy on Sam's mouth like a woman in heat. She had one hand on his cock slowly pumping it and the other on his back hugging his mouth to her pussy.

"Eat that black pussy," whispered Alisha to Sam acting out her black woman's fantasy of forcing a middle class white man to lick and suck her cunt.

"We don't won't the women to have too good a time," said Wynona handing a large rubber dildo to the three Mapes men. Ellis located my vaginal opening and worked the simulated cock inside my hole. More pressure in my guts was the last thing I needed. Being dildo fucked while accepting an enema is a yin and yang thing. The dildo fucking felt great in my twat but its pressure added to my sense of discomfort. The Witherow daughters were moaning and pleading for the Mapes to stop. The desire to expel the nozzle and empty your bowels grew exponentially as the moments went by.

I looked up to see Alisha tightening a cock ring around the base of Sam's dick as she jerked him off with one hand while sucking his cock head. Carl was getting the same treatment from Bea. Neither of the two male Witherows was going to come until that was removed.

The Witherow daughters were sucking cock; taking a very stimulating cocktail up their ass and being dildo fucked all while suspended upside down. What a rush? Nothing that exciting had happened to me when I was their age. Kids these days are so lucky. Sweat was pouring off my body in a steady stream. There was a steady drip onto the tile floor.

Finally, I heard a loud gurgle above my head as the pumpkin bag emptied and collapsed. The Mapes stepped away leaving us to our misery.

"Let's give them ten," said Wynona glancing at her wristwatch. They pushed the dildos in out cunts as far as they would go and left them there.

The girls were sobbing and moaning as the Mapes repaired to a far corner of the room, turned on a television and proceeded to enjoy an S&M video of several Mexican cops torturing and raping three American college girls they had arrested.

It was a very long ten minutes. Monique and Sandra wouldn't stop whining. Sam kept mumbling something to himself about paying $25,000 to be tortured. Only Carl and I were getting a thrill out of the enema.

Ten minutes finally over the Mapes returned to rotate us upright then deflate the rubber collar. The enema and nozzle exploded out of my asshole like they were jet propelled. Ellis and Ed washed our shit down the drains with the hoses and we got to repeat the enema this time with much warmer water.

The upside was that there was only a five-minute holding period but once they got us upright they made us beg for release.

"Say I'm just a piece of white trash that loves sex with people of color," said Wynona to the Witherows. We all dutifully repeated that in unison.

"Say I love to suck dick and eat pussy of colored people," said Wynona. Once again the Witherows responded in unison. That struck me as kind of juvenile but the Mapes seemed to enjoy it. I suppose humiliating white people is fun if you're not one.

From what I could see the enema was much clearer but three is the general rule in enemas and Wynona showed up with another set of bags this time containing a very cold mixture.

Monique started screaming when the cold enema flowed into her intestines. I felt like my guts were going to jump through my skin. I'd done the hot then cold thing before. Your bowels definitely do not like it.

They let us suffer for five minutes once the bags were empty. On the television, a big titted blonde coed was sucking a rotweiler cock while a German shepherd pounded her pussy. Her two buddies were looking on in horror. Behind then there was a whole kennel of dogs waiting to be serviced. The pups were barking and waging their tales anxious for a little human sex.

A half dozen Mexican Federal police were looking on encouraging the pups to enjoy themselves. The girl was showing serious enthusiasm understandable given that moments before the police had her wired to a wall plug and were shocking the shit out of her private parts. Given the choice between having 120V at 30AMPs traveling in a circuit from your nipples to clit to cunt to ass or sucking doggie dick the choice is obvious. "Come to Momma, Fido, she's just dying to be your bitch."

Once they returned us to the vertical, we had to pay a price to get rid of the enema.

"Swallow some piss and we will take the clyster out," said Bea holding her nephew's cock in her hand aiming it toward Sandra's mouth.

"I can't do that. Please don't make me do that," said Sandra.

"Yes you can. Now don't hurt Mathew's feelings and refuse to drink his pee," said Bea.

"No, I can't," said Sandra.

"All right, we'll leave you there," said Bea.

Bea and Mathew moved to my front where I dutifully opened my mouth trying to set a good example for my stepdaughters. A stream of golden yellow landed on forehead blinding me. Bea corrected her aim and the flow moved to my mouth. I swallowed two mouthfuls and Ellis deflated my nozzle collar permitting me to shit my brains down the drain. Next they did Carl and Sam who both proved to be up for ingesting urine. Monique showed she could handle a piss cocktail leaving Sandra the only one still holding two liters of icy seawater in her bowels.

"What's it going to be, Sandra?" asked Bea.

"All right," said Sandra.

"Good, since you have been difficult you can drink from the source. Don't waste a drop," said Bea.

Mathew placed the tip of his pecker in Sandra's mouth and slowly pumped her full of his kidney's waste product. He must have prepared for this by consuming several liters of water because he went on and on. He was practiced at letting slaves drink from the spring. You have to exercise control stopping when they have a mouthful then allowing them to swallow before you proceed. There are some great water sports experts at the Hellfire Club. I've seen a sub spend thirty minutes draining the tank of a dominant. He wound up with a round little belly that sloshed when he walked. Not to blow my own horn but I'm no slouch when it comes to draining a bladder. Having a stomach full of warm pee is a great way to start an evening of edge play. Plus the taste of piss in your mouth and the aroma in your nose sets the tone for what is to come. You're nothing but a piss drinking whore and deserve what happens to you.

When Mathew was finally done, they let Sandra empty her bowels. I never saw a girl so happy to take a shit in my life. They hosed us down with warm water then rotated us ninety degrees and started packing our asses with vegetable shortening. I mentally complemented Ellis noting that what I assumed was an enema chair had other uses, i.e., fist fucking. My back was toward the ceiling and my butt was facing Ellis who had donned a latex glove. His gloved hand was reaching into the can grabbing a small amount of shortening then forcing it up my ass. Sandra and Monique were not having a good time. Carl seemed to be enjoying it and so did Sam. I love the feel of another person's fist in my orifices.

"I'm in," said Mathew once he got his fist past Sandra's anal ring. Alisha was working on Monique.

"Oh fuck that hurts, take it out," screamed Sandra.

"Look Momma, I'm in to my elbow announced Alisha as she pushed her long skinny arm up Monique's ass.

"That's great, now do their pussy," said Wynona.

Depending on how you look at it, it's either an advantage or disadvantage to be male since you only have one hole to be fisted in.

We girls were grunting and groaning as we took a fist in both holes. Fisting is probably the purest form of S&M I can think of. Is there anything more personally humiliating and degrading than having someone's arms inside your body violating your sexual organs? Ellis's fingers slowly worked the inside of my uterus, as his other arm was elbow deep in my large intestine. Wynona queued us a CD on the stereo and the room filled with the sound of reggae. The fisting assumed the beat of the music and the dungeon filled with grunts, groans, and screams against a background of Bob Marley's greatest hits.

It was picture time. Wynona produced a Cannon 8.1 mega-pixel camera and captured images for the family photo CD's of each of us being fist fucked. Then she hauled out camcorder and walked around filming. She decided we were not holding our heads up.

"They're hanging their heads down. I can't film their faces. Where are the nostril hooks, Ellis?" asked Wynona.

"In the first cabinet," responded Ellis his fist slowly rotating in my womb.

Moments later Wynona grabbed a handful of my hair and raised my head then inserted two hooks in my nose that were attached to the ceiling. It felt like my nose was being ripped off my face when she let go. The weight of my head was hanging by my nostrils. I've seen slaves led around my nostril hooks before. You are definitely being controlled.

Monique and Sandra started screaming and thrashing around when the hooks went into their nose.

"Now, smile for the camera,' said Wynona starting to film us again. My stepdaughters were begging her to let them go.

Thank God, they released us as soon as Wynona has her footage. They gave us some water and let us relax for a minute. The Mexican police were still breeding the girls with their canines.

"Where did you get the DVD?" I asked Wynona.

"On the Internet," answered Wynona. "Its from the collection of the General who used to head the Mexican version of the FBI."

"I thought it was real," I said.

"That's one's pretty tame. After the coeds had been dog fucked and branded, they're taken back to their hotel in Cancun to enjoy the rest of spring break. I have one where the women are Zapatistas. The police skin them alive at the end."

Break over we were taken to a partially mirrored wall of the dungeon. Our wrists were wrapped in Velcro and connected to metal supports in the ceiling. Ellis pushed a button and the Velcro strapping coiled around a drum in the ceiling until our arms were stretched high over our head. Next they secured our legs to recessed rings in the floor tightening them to where we were spread like a starfish. Ellis played with the adjustments until we were capable of only the slightest movement.

I was facing the mirror perhaps four feet from the wall. Being able to see everything that was happening or going to happen increased the eroticism. Ellis returns from a trip to one of the equipment chests with five pieces of apparatus that were folded up into a bundle of rods and hinges. I watched fascinated as the Mapes unfolded the rods to create a wedge shaped frame with a studded top edge.

Immediately it dawned on me. We were going to ride the donkey. I may be an unabashed pain slut but I hate the donkey. What I did not realize immediately was that this was unlike any donkey I had ever seen before.

After another trip to a different chest, Ellis returned with an armful of odd-looking dildos and butt plugs. They were odd in that they were long and thin and there was red tubing attached to the base. Ellis fitted a dildo and butt plug on the top edge of the donkey destined for me then slid it under me inserting both of the soft pliable objects into my orifices. Monique and Sandra got the same treatment. Naturally Sam and Carl got the butt plug only.

At this point it wasn't too bad. My feet were still on the floor. The shortening from the fisting made everything slide in easily plus I was definitely loosened up. I watched as Ellis connected all the red tubing to a machine that looked like an air compressor. He started the compressor and I experienced the sensation of the dildo and butt plug expanding and lengthening inside me. That was weird. Satisfied that we were all properly connected, Ellis switched off the compressor.

Ed kneeled down behind me and started turning an adjusting crank and I felt the top edge of the donkey begin to push into the area from my butt to my clit. I've ridden the Spanish Donkey before. I know how painful it is. Slowly the pressure built as my weight was transferred from my feet to my cunt. Sandra and Monique began screaming. Sam began to beg Wynona to let us go.

When we five reached the point that our feet were no longer touching the floor, they stopped raising the donkey. Ed switched on the compressor and the dildo and butt plug began expanding and contracting inside our cavities.

Alisha was going from Witherow to Witherow attaching a hospital hemostat to our nipples. We three females got slightly smaller ones on our clit and some sort of clamp was applied to the tip of Carl and Sam's pecker.

"Now for the fun part,' said Wynona attaching an elastic cable to a hook in the wall in front of us. She attached the other end to the hemostats and let the cable spring taut. I screamed like a banshee as my nipples and clit felt like they were being ripped off. Monique passed out from the pain but Wynona revived her with smelling salts.

"This will be the deepest and fastest fucking you will ever receive," said Ellis restarting the air compressor.

When I looked in the mirror I saw Wynona handing out floggers to her family. Ellis increased the rate of the compressor and the dildo and butt plugs were rhythmically expanding and contracting inside my body cavities. I would hear the compressor release blast of air and the dildos would explode like a car's air bag following the narrow path afforded by my rectum and pussy. Then the vacuum pump took over and they deflated drawing the walls of my orifices painfully inward. Once deflated, it almost instantly re-inflated. The stroke rate far exceeded what even the fastest male stud could attain. It was a very painful way to be fucked. I began to lose control and started screaming uncontrollably for them to stop. My family joined in as we begged the Mapes to cease torturing us.

Most S&M session involve the torture of a single body part but the Mapes system had us hurting in so many places at the same time we began to wish they would kill you and get it over with.

My tenderest parts were resting on the narrow top of the wedge of the Spanish Donkey. I've seen women at the Hellfire Club go into a catatonic coma from being left on the donkey too long. It is the most horrible excruciating pain. One year they had a Spanish Donkey weekend at the club and the building was filled with screams of subs straddling the row of carpenter's saw horses someone had purchased from a local building company. They had planed down the top of the horse to create a flat surface only a quarter inch wide then nailed a narrow strip of iron across the surface. Your body from vagina to asshole was resting on that hard quarter inch. Most of the subs disappointed their masters by immediately screaming their safe word then begging the master to hurry and remove the restraints holding them in place. Everywhere there were subs rolling on the floor, hands clutching their cunts and whimpering in pain. The men were worse than the women.

Trace kept me on the Donkey for fifteen minutes that was about as long as anyone lasted. As part of the evening, the club owners re-enacted the 1855 diary of a twenty-year old New York girl that had joined the Abolitionist Movement determined to help Southern plantation slaves gain their freedom. She had traveled south to take part in the Underground Railway purchasing a small plantation near Natchez, Mississippi. In her diary, she claimed to be a virgin. The local slaveholders quickly found her out and raided the farm being used as a station on the Underground Railway.

According to her detailed account, they had begun by changing her virgin status to that of a well-fucked slut. They had stripped her naked then deflowered her while a substantial portion of the citizens of Natchez looked on approvingly. The local sheriff had gone first exercising the prerogative of the law. After that they had shaved her head, covered her in tar then rolled her in chicken feathers. For a finale, they had hoisted her onto a fence rail with the sharp edge digging into her recently raped pussy. Men had put the rail on their shoulders and carried her through the town for all to see. Her diary provided an accurate and exact account of the events of that night and how it felt to be "tarred and feathered and ridden out of town on a rail."

A femme that was new to the Hellfire club had volunteered to act the roll of the Abolitionist. She proved to be quite the screamer when the other actors hoisted the fence rail to their shoulders and lead her up and down the aisles to the enjoyment of the club's patrons.

My point is that when it comes to mind numbing pain, the Spanish Donkey has no equal and is usually applied singularly but the Mapes had developed an S&M session in which the donkey was only one of many forms of torture that the sub had to simultaneously endure. My nipples and clit were crushed in the business end of the hemostat and at that moment, Wynona landed a flogger on my back causing it to explode in pain.

The Mapes whipped the living hell out of us. I sounded long plaintive screams that I hoped Deirdre could hear at the slave cabins. And you could watch it all in the mirrors. Watching yourself being tortured added to the agony.

That night I developed incredible respect for Ed Mapes. His genius did not end with the design of instruments of torture. He also understood the psychology. Being able to watch yourself and your family being tortured add greatly to the experience. Because I could see them clearly, Sandra and Monique's pain became my pain. When I dared to look behind me I could see Wynona preparing to swing the flogger and I started screaming before it landed.

I began to orgasm and couldn't or wouldn't stop.

"Hit me harder, damn you," I screamed as the flogger slashed my flesh.

Since there were six Mapes and five Witherows, Ellis joined his wife in whipping me. The blows landed in quick secession as my pleasure centers rode the crest of greater and greater waves of sexual ecstasy. The thocka-thocka sound of the air compressor provided steady background noise to what was the most intense torture fuck of my life.

Finally after God knows how many blows, they stopped. Sandra had fainted. The other Witherows stopped screaming as the compressor was switched off and the Spanish Donkey removed. They revived Sandra with an ammonia ampoule. We were allowed to shower in a common shower room.

The Mapes issued us warm robes and took us upstairs to the family room to sample the wine from their new winery. We enjoyed their hospitality for several hours.

"We've still got a way to go," announced Ellis tasting the wine. "It's certainly not equal to even a mid level Russian River chardonnay.

I didn't think it was too bad but I'm not an oenophile. Sam chatted with Ed and Ellis about the world wine market. The kids made s'mores together. We women talked about the problems of raising teenagers.

I guess there is a place for family style S&M.