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Chapter 45 – Pre Trip Party III
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 and 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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"Stability ball, we're on fucking stability balls, I said aloud attempting to clear my pain clouded brain.
"Are you all right, Major," asked Lt. Nancy Mavis in a weak voice.
"No, I'm not all right. I want to die," I said. There was not an inch of my body that didn't scream with pain. When Nancy and my torture session started hours ago, we had been beaten with rubber truncheons over every inch of our body. During and after the brutal beating we were savagely raped. My tits and pussy had the teeth marks to prove it. Nancy was subjected to the orifice expanding attention of five Marines while I endured the most fiendish high tech tortures that my depraved and psychotic sister-in-law backed by billions in Pentagon research funds could devise.
"We're in a cage," said Lt. Mavis looking around which wasn't easy given the degree of tension in our limbs.
The two of us were on our backs strapped over two large inflated balls. They were exactly the kind found in the workout room at Camp Gardez. Stability balls are supposed to improve the quality of the workout by forcing you to isolate on certain muscles. Basically, workout stability balls are inflated polymer spheres that range from one to four feet in diameter.
We used them every day in our Pilates class. I'd say the ones under Nancy and me were over a meter in diameter. Straps around my widely separated wrists and ankles stretched me almost to the floor. My back formed the letter, 'C' over the top of the ball. That alone was damn painful.
Nancy and I were facing opposite directions. When I looked over I could see her cunt was open. She also looked eight months pregnant like me.
"Is the same thing in your belly as mine?" I asked looking at the over stretched skin covering her enormous bulging abdomen.
"Piss and shit, what's in yours," responded Nancy.
"The same, most of it from my sister-in-law in Texas," I said.
"Mine's local. After they broke the records, they stuck a clear plastic tube down my throat and attached a funnel. Then each of the five took a dump in the funnel. I slowly filled up to where the last guy couldn't get all his inside my belly," said Nancy.
"At least yours is fresh. Mine was produced over a number of days in Texas. The piss had most of the water removed so it had the consistency of cane syrup. My guts hurt so bad," I whined.
"You could stick your hand up my ass or pussy and never touch the sides. I bet I have to wear diapers to keep my turds from falling out my ass," said Nancy who seemed on the verge of hysteria.
"God I wonder what they are going to do to us next," I said. At that moment, Robbie and Larry entered the room.
"Mustafa is going to be late. So I get to spend some quality time with my sister-in-law," said Robbie opening the door to the cage and stepping inside. I saw that he was carrying one of those flexible canes that the Marines like to use on Afghan prisoners. They set your body on fire and they don't leave a mark nothing for the human rights watchers to bitch about.
Larry was right behind him and similarly equipped. They were both still dressed like women on their way to a cocktail party. They looked like the kind of whores that showed up at an Officer's Club on weekend nights hoping to get laid. What a fucking bizarre night it was turning out to be, one to tell my grandchildren about if I survived.
"Don't hurt me anymore. I'm beyond my limit," said Nancy to Larry who had stepped up to her and put his hand on her swollen belly.
Larry apparently took umbrage at Nancy's remark because he stepped back and slammed his cane across her abdomen creating a bright red stripe. Lt. Nancy Mavis was a Class A screamer. The woman could really howl and she cut loose with a yell that would wake the dead anywhere but Afghanistan.
"I'll tell you when you reach your limit, cunt," said Larry.
Larry's blow took Nancy beyond her limit because she began crying hysterically once the pain in her tummy subsided enough that she could get her breath.
"Can't let you have all the fun, Larry," said Robbie raising his cane and bringing it down on my watermelon sized belly. I let out a wail of anguish as my arms and legs strained against the straps.
"Think we got time to give them ten and then skull fuck them," said Larry. "It may be a while before Mustafa shows up with the circus?"
"We'll make time. Mustafa can wait. Bastard's late anyway," said Robbie. You want to call it or shall I?"
"I'll call it. I love the way this bitch screams. It's so fucking primal."
Larry yelled, "One," and the two cross dressers simultaneously landed the flexible canes down on our very tight stomach. Even without an abdomen stretched tight as a drum it would have created a level of pain considered unbearable.
During the Middle Ages, the French invented the torture of filling a person's stomach with water or excrement then putting something round like a log under their spine to tighten the abdomen even more before going to work with a scourge.
General Donaldson has several rare drawings from the fifteen and sixteenth century of prisoners being punished that way. I remember one set of wood block prints in particular. It showed a large square in Paris filled with several thousand spectators. In the center of the square is a raised platform. Guards lead a noble woman out, Marquesa Marie Duchamps, a member of the court who had refused the king's reasonable request for oral sex on the ridiculous excuse that she was happily married to the Marquise and considered adultery a sin. In the second drawing she is stripped naked in front of the crowd. That one always got my juices flowing. I'd love to be forced to remove my clothes in front of a large crowd. The guards are shown placing their hands on her privates. Her husband is nearby helplessly looking on. Next they stretch her on a rack with a round piece of wood under her lower back so she is bowed upward. One of the guards uses a wooden mallet to hammer large wooden pegs in her ass and pussy. Her facial expression indicates she is not enjoying their attention. The guards and some spectators are shown pissing and shitting in a large bucket. Madame Duchamps has a funnel inserted in her mouth and they pour the bucket in the funnel forcing her to swallow using a wooden pestle. Once she is seriously full of feces, two guards apply scourges to her abdomen. At some point she regurgitates covering her face and upper body in vomit and shit. The final drawing is of the women being tossed almost lifeless in a cart and driven away. I considered it one of the General's best examples of period erotica.
But it is one thing to look at wood block prints while you masturbate and quite another to endure the torture. Robbie landed a couple of shots right on my pussy to make sure that it was hurting in all the right places. The skin on my abdomen was almost translucent. My normally inward navel was an outtie. I was wondering if I would get permanent stretch marks that I would carry to my grave.
There was nothing to be done except endure. As soon as the count reached ten, Robbie hiked up his tight skirt, slipped hiss thong to one side and forced his cock between my lips. I really didn't suck his cock although I tried. Like Larry said, it was a skull fucking where I held my mouth open and Robbie rammed it down my throat. Because it was the kind of degrading and de-humanizing sex that he loved, he blew his load in short order and a couple of tablespoons of jism joined the piss and shit concoction in my tummy.
Just when I thought he was done, he got another idea.
"It's not right that your gut's filled with Mary Ellen's shit and none of mine. I got a hot turd you can chew on," said Robbie turning around and positioning his ass over my face.
"No," I screamed.
"All right, another ten no twenty on the tummy," said Robbie picking up the cane. "That should change your mind."
"I'll eat it. Go ahead," I said leaving my mouth wide open to indicate my change of mind. I couldn't take another blow from the cane on my stomach. It was already bright pink and glowing. It felt so hot.
"Good idea, let's see if Lt. Mavis likes to eat her shit right from the source," said Larry turning around to position his rear over Nancy's face.
Robbie held his ass cheeks apart as he lowered his rear to where it touched my lips. I put my lips around his sphincter. I heard him grunting and I could feel the strain. His anus slowly opened. With a few more grunts and the type of pushing that could give you a bad case of hemorrhoids I had a half-inch of his shit in my mouth. I put my lips around the turd and sucked it into my mouth as Robbie pushed. It was several inches of soft shit that I had no choice other than to chew up and swallow.
"Water?" I begged. It felt like my mouth was packed with foul smelling and tasting fudge. I needed something to wash it down.
"Sure, Roz, open wide," said Robbie.
Seconds later, his piss landed in my mouth. I didn't have a choice. I used the piss to masticate the turd and swallowed. My lips were smeared with brown and the smell and taste were overwhelming.
"Mustafa, you're late, you freaking bastard," boomed Robbie still dribbling urine in my open mouth. He shook his pecker off and pushed it back under his thong then lowered his skirt.
When I looked toward the door, there was a wizened elderly Afghani. He was standing quietly between two apes that were obediently holding his hands. I'd had enough primate zoology to recognize the species. They were orangutans.
"Are Sadie and Emmy Lou ready to have their snatch eaten?" joked Larry. "Roz and Nancy are just dying for some lesbo sex with your girls. Aren't you Major, Lieutenant?"
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