Torture The Widow

Chapter 3 – Whore On The Floor

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 2003

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“Rozz, what a disgusting little bimbo you’ve become. An officer and a lady doesn’t behave that way,” said Denise digging into my rib cage with the pointed toes of her Ferragamo pumps.

“Poor Trace, it’s good he can’t see you now with your face covered in filth,” commented Mary Ellen taking a cue from her sister-in-law and pressing the heel of her Bally stiletto heel into the back of my hand. “He obviously made a huge mistake when he married you.”

I whimpered from the physical and emotional pain I was suffering. The Donaldsons excelled at a great number of things involving BDSM. One of their core competencies was humiliation and degradation. At the moment, they were acting as a well-trained unit focused on making me feel like a worthless piece of shit. Of course when you’re on your back with your face and hair covered in drying spit, snot, and cum, that’s not difficult. When I looked around, I could see that the entire family was enjoying my situation.

The Donaldsons were seated on both sides of the limo smiling down at me. Mary Ellen, Denise, and Lois were sipping Dom Perignon from Waterford’s Chantilly flutes. I recognized the crystal pattern because Trace and I had service for eight, a wedding gift from a Saudi prince the General had befriended. Robbie and the General were downing Jameson’s Reserve from matching crystal tumblers. I would have killed for a drink of hard liquor to numb my pain but keeping me on alert and on the edge was all part of their plan.

I was on the limo’s floor, face and hair covered in my own saliva and mucus, sucking Sergeant Amesbury’s black nuts while I stroked his hardening cock. Mascara and eyeliner was smeared down my cheeks. Robbie had made a point of using his thumb to smear my lipstick around my mouth before he face fucked me. I must have looked God-awful.

“As I recall Sergeant Amesbury, you enjoy ass play. Is that right, Sergeant?” asked the General deciding to make a game of it.

“Yes Sir,” responded the Sergeant.

“When was the last time you took a dump?” asked the General.

“Right before we left, Sir.”

“So your anal region may be a little stained,” said the General.

“That’s more than likely, Sir.”

“Would you like the Captain to clean your crack of any fecal material, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Captain, you heard the Sergeant, “ said the General.

We all have our preferences and licking fresh shit off someone’s asshole is low on my list of wants. However, if I refused, Mary Ellen just might take me somewhere and empty a clip in my body. Trace had told me she’d already killed one man, a fellow student who dumped her in high school.

“The poor bastard though he could play the four F’s with my sister,” said Trace referring to the ‘Find her, Feel her, Fuck her, and Forget her’ cliché. “He was a jock, took her out on the fifty yard line one night and busted her cherry.”

“And she was upset?” I asked surprised that Mary Ellen gave a damn about loosing her virginity.

‘Well, she had a thing for the guy, you know, first love and all, she was just a freshman,” said Trace.

“You sister felt scorned,” I said.

“Yep, especially after he told everyone how easy she’d put out and how much she loved to suck his dick and swallow his load.”

“And she got a away with it?”

“No one ever found the body. She fabricated an alibi that the police couldn’t shake. She took him into the woods and started by putting a Black Talon slug in his ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists,” said Trace.

Being a nurse, I can imagine the agony associated with having eight bone dense joints shredded by a bullet designed to break up on impact.

“Then she gave him a while to consider his sins, even making an audio recording of him screaming and begging her not to kill him.”

“Does she still have the tape?” I asked the question in order to confirm my worst suspicions about Mary Ellen.

“Probably, Mary Ellen liked to jerk off while she listens,” said Trace that night on our Hawaiian vacation when he’d gotten drunk out of his mind and ran his mouth.

“Mary Ellen finished the guy off with a set of antique skinning knives that were reputed to belong to Kit Carson, the legendary buffalo hunter. You should hear him scream when she took his nuts off one-by-one. That’s on the tape, too,” said Trace.

Knowing that my sister-in-law was capable of castration was not a comforting thought. That night in Maui, I was slowly sucking my very drunk husband’s cock as he recounted Mary Ellen’s tale of revenge.

“Afterwards, like the true soldier she planned to become, she buried him in a very deep foxhole. No one ever found the body. Mary Ellen says the secret is to bury them deep, six feet or more,” said Trace.

One thing I also learned was that Trace was a little afraid of his baby sister. He should have been. I started out to become a psychiatric nurse then switched to OR because the pay was better. But I know a psychotic when I see one. Trace also let out that she had killed all the family pets on multiple occasions and set the family mansion on fire after she got a low grade on a math quiz. Any normal human being ought to be scared shitless by Mary Ellen Donaldson, soon to receive her commission in the US Army.

Following orders, the Sergeant knee walked a one eighty and leaned forward so his butt was in my face. There was no point in pleading with the Donaldson’s. The prospect of watching their daughter-in-law degrade herself eating an enlisted man’s shit was too much of a turn on.

I put a hand on each of his butt cheeks and widened his crack. There was a wide brown streak on each side and a good size dollop on his asshole. Sergeant Amesbury’s crack hadn’t been visited by toilet paper after his most recent defecation and that was no doubt a deliberate act. When my nose was six inches away, the strong aroma of fresh shit filled my nostrils. I breathed outward to clear my nostrils and dove face forward into that musky crevice. My nose, lips, and tongue immediately came in contact with a thick coating of shit. It had been a put up job. The General had worked everything out with the Sergeant before we left. Eat it or die I told myself.

“Make sure there’s a good layer of shit for the cunt to eat,” was how he probably expressed himself to his driver.

I didn’t have a choice. I started on the high end of his crack and licked downward, swallowing whatever gathered on my tongue.

“Shit eater, shit eater, Roz is a shit eater,” sang Denise in a singsong little girl’s voice. She was becoming intoxicated. Robbie was already half blown away. This was going to be some night. There wasn’t too much on this earth that a drunken Robbie and Denise weren’t up for.

“Trace told me he made her drink her own piss the night he met her,” said Mary Ellen.

“Eating feces comes natural to some women, like dogs,” added Lois in one of those inane indecipherable remarks that I never managed to fathom. Sometimes I think my mother-in-law checked her sanity when she married into the Donaldsons.

It took several minutes for me to ingest the layer of shit surrounding the Sergeant’s anus. My stomach did a couple of flip-flops but I kept it down. After he was reasonably clean, I tongue fucked his anus while I reached between his legs to stroke his hardening meat pole. Sergeant Amesbury was well endowed and ordinarily the anticipation of taking his meat rocket in my manholes would have gotten me excited but I was distracted by the possibility that I might not survive the evening.

“She looks like she’s been eating brown gravy with a crooked spoon,” announced Denise when I’d finished and the Sergeant turned around. His shit was smeared all over my nose and cheeks.

He tumbled me on my back placed my ankles on his shoulders, positioned his cock head at my opening and drove it home in one swift downward plunge. No woman’s cunt can take that kind of all at once intrusion painlessly especially when the intruder is the large economy size.

I yelped as I felt a searing pain travel down to my cervix, hit a wall of flesh and bounce off. The Sergeant must have been briefed that causing me pain would get him a three day pass. He rammed his groin against my pubis as if he were trying to sink a nail in an oak board. I groaned in agony each time he reached bottom. To add to fun, he tugged up my knit dress, took my nipples in his giant hands and proved that he could lift me off the floor solely by pulling them upward. I screamed in pain as my breasts caught on fire. He pounded away until I heard the General speak.

“Finish in her ass, Sergeant,” said the General.

Mary Ellen helped the Sergeant turn me over by the simple act of inserting her fingers in my nostrils and twisting. I thought she was going to rip my nose off or at the least break some of its delicate bones.

I heard and felt the Sergeant hawk a gob of spit on my anus. Five seconds later, I put my fist in my mouth to muffle my screams as the Sergeant split my rectum open and sunk it home to the point I felt his balls smack into my labia. The Sergeant reached forward, grabbed my hair in his hands, pulling my head back to where I thought my neck would break. I could feel some of my hair tearing free from my scalp. Thank God, the Sergeant didn’t last long. He announced his climax with a scalp tug that almost left me bald.

The Sergeant slowly disengaged, straightened his clothes and returned to the driver’s seat. The General closed the partition. I was on the floor breathing heavily and hurting in a dozen places. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

I heard another whirring sound and looked up to see the sunroof panel sliding back.

“Stand up,” ordered Mary Ellen.

I wearily climbed to my feet. When I stood up, I was looking out over the limo roof. There was a crowd of people entering the funeral home.

“Tell her to clean up. She can’t go inside with shit on her face,” said the General from below. “She’ll smell up the place.”

“Powder your nose, dear,” said Lois passing up my purse and a handful of wet wipes.

I used the wet wipes to clean the shit and dirt off my face. I was combing my hair when I felt my dress being raised. I started to lower myself to see what was happening but Mary Ellen barked out for me not to move. I felt a leather belt being tightened around my naked waist as I flipped open a lighted compact mirror and started brushing my hair in place.

“Spread them and don’t move,” ordered Mary Ellen.

I couldn’t see what was happening below but I felt something slippery ease past my sphincter and go on a long journey that ended deep in my colon. Whatever it was it was thick but flexible because it traveled along my lower GI track like it was on a search-and-destroy mission. It left a dull ache somewhere above my belly button. As a nurse, I’d threaded tubes down patient’s throats and up their assholes. This dildo was inside my small intestine knocking on the door to my stomach.

“I’m surprised that didn’t come out her mouth,” was Denise’s comment from below.

“Hold it in while I do the other one,” said Mary Ellen.

I could feel Denise’s hand in the crack of my ass keeping my muscles from involuntarily expelling the unwelcome intruder. Another hand parted my labia and I felt another well-lubricated dildo that seemed far too wide for my pussy cram itself in the opening.

“Don’t move, Rozz, you are about to get the thrill of a lifetime,” said Mary Ellen.

Mary Ellen started to push. The proverb about ten pounds of shit in a two pound bag leaped into my mind as my vagina was wedged open. Mary Ellen was pushing so hard she almost lifted me straight off the ground. At first the dildo only moved an inch or so. It hurt so bad I put my Coach handbag in my mouth and bit down on it.

“It’s not going to go. I told you it was too big,” said my mother-in-law.

“Yes, it will,” said a breathless Mary Ellen. Fortunately, the dildo began to move again. Inch by inch it traveled inward forcing out the walls of my cunt. Later that night, when I saw the girth of what Mary Ellen forced inside me, I almost fainted. It was the size of salami.

I was trembling and sweating by the time I heard Mary Ellen announce the Eagle had landed.

“There, nice and snug,” commented Mary Ellen.

“I bet she walks bow-legged,” said Denise.

“Rozz was never a graceful girl,” added Lois.

“She likes having big dildo rammed in her holes. Trace said she was the biggest pain slut he ever met. He used to dildo fuck her ass for hours. He married her because he thought she was such a hot piece of ass. What he didn’t realize was that she’d fuck anything with a pecker,” said Robbie.

“This will hold them in place,” said Mary Ellen. I felt her attaching a narrow leather strap to the back of the belt, hooking it through an eyelet on the top of my anal dildo, then the same with the dildo in my pussy. She completed her circuit by attaching the end of the strap to the front of the belt then tightening it to where I was in acute pain from the force of the strap running down my ass crack and surfacing right at my navel. My clit was uncomfortably trapped under the leather strap. There was no way those dildos were coming out until someone detached that strap. I took deep breaths trying to control the pain.

“That’s right, Rozz, breathe into the pain and don’t whimper. The General hates whimpering,” said Denise. “So be quiet and still during Trace’s eulogies.”

At that moment I understood that I was going to Trace’s wake with a pair of dildo’s inside my cavities. However, they weren’t done.

“Now for the catheter, we can’t have you pissing yourself during your husband’s wake,” said Denise.

I felt a sharp pain as Denise guided the narrow tube into my urethra. In a hospital, a nurse would never catheterize a patient that wasn’t sedated. It’s dreadfully painful to feel that tube progress through your piss pipe to your bladder. I hoped that Denise knew what she was doing. If you feed in too much tube, you can puncture the bladder and the patient dies of infection. I clinched my teeth and prayed as the tubing wound its way to my bladder and stopped. Next I felt a plastic pouch being connected to the catheter and then fastened to my waist belt. I felt my labia being stretched out. When I looked down I saw that Denise had my labia fully parted.

“Be real still Rozz, this is going to pinch,” said Mary Ellen.

I saw that Mary Ellen was holding a Purple Heart in one hand. I watched in terror as she forced the pin on the back of the medal through my labia. That hurt like all hell. Mary Ellen screwed the back on the other side of the lip while once again I chewed on my purse to keep from screaming.

“Here’s Trace’s other Purple Heart,” said Denise.

That brought about another moment of exquisite agony.

“And his Kosovo Peace Keepers NATO medal,” said Mary Ellen.

My God they were pinning my dead husband’s medals to my pussy lips.

“And this is the Bronze Star he won in Nasarif,” said Denise.

My cunt was on fire. I felt dizzy. I wanted to reach down and rip Trace’s medals from my labia.

“Have you two finished fucking around? We need to get inside,” said the General.

“Yes, except for a couple of pictures. Spread your legs wider, Rozz and smile,” said Denise.

That’s pretty clever, General,” said Robbie. “It also looked damn painful.”

“Yea, I suppose so,” said the General. “Rozz’s got some serious pussy lips on her. Did I ever tell you about the female VC Major we caught in Sixth Corps? She had these loose, saggy pussy lips like she’d fucked every VC from Uncle Ho down. It was right after I arrived for my second tour. I was assigned to MACV, working with General Diem. He liked to perform his own interrogations. Problem was, the Major was a tough bitch and hadn’t said a word. General Diem used a soldering gun to slowly burn her pussy lips off. Took those suckers right down to the surface without a drop of blood. She screeched like a banshee. Smelled like somebody had burnt the Thanksgiving Turkey to a crisp.”

“Did she talk?” asked Robbie.

“Yes, after he burnt her clit off. Waste of time though, we already knew what she told us. General Diem shot the screaming bitch in her pussy hole. Rammed the barrel of an AR-15 in as far as he could shove it and unloaded a full clip General Diem was a creative bastard. You girls finish making those photos and let’s get inside.”

I stood there while several automatic flashes fired. When I bent over to look, there were four medals pinned to each side of my labia major. There were drops of blood on my thighs. The plastic bag was hanging there waiting for me to fill it. The pain of the dildo’s and medals was all I could think about.

Mary Ellen squeezed up through the sunroof beside me. She placed a wide leather collar around my neck and buckled it. I could barely bend my head.

“Ready, General,” said Mary Ellen fastening one end of a leash to the collar. I wanted to die from the pain and humiliation. I was walking into my husband’s wake dressed like a whore, stuffed with dildos, and being led on a leash by my sister-in-law. There was a catch bag hanging below the hem of my skirt. Trace’s medals were pinned to my cunt and would show when I sat down.

“Let’s go. It’s time to bury my son,” said the General wearily.