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The fat fingers squash and roll my dark buds. Down between my legs my vagina feels wetter than when Salarin first opened me. The sense of the hot desert breeze over moisture makes my sense of exposure worse. Something sticky is trickling down the inside of my leg. My vulnerable front hole is not to be left unattended for long. The next of the Hunters’ men is already stepping up. This one is a bearded giant, rather overweight, and I tense in my bonds at the sight of this one, anticipating penetration with an organ that matches the size of his body. japan His prick is average size though, and the worst thing about being raped by him is the way my head presses against the sweaty flesh of his chest, so even after he’s gone I can’t escape the scent of his body odor. Thus it continues, on and on and on. By about man number ten, I’m weakened severely. My arms and thighs, unnaturally stretched by the restraints have no stamina left for fighting to protect me and I hang limp and accepting as cock after cock enters me to dump its load of slime. There is so much of these men’s fluids in my holes that I am thoroughly lubricated, and in that sense the sensation of being torn lessens, but at the same time a deeper soreness builds and builds with each successive rape, until my holes seem to burn with pain. But being rubbed raw does not deter my nanotech, which continues to keep me aroused throughout. I feel as though the unending sexual stimulation is sinking me into a trance, but the tech mercifully spares me the dishonor of climaxing during rape. Perhaps it needs prolonged stimulation to my clitoris rather than my vagina to achieve that goal. Each man’s rough exploratory fondling of my button is brief – a gesture to claim complete possession of me, rather than to give me pleasure, and no-one seems interested in that part of me other than as another vulnerable place to hurt. Once the number of rapes I’ve endured is into the high twenties – that’s high twenties just in my pussy, and a slightly lower number in my backside, I’m so exhausted and lost in unending misery that I begin to lose awareness of reality. I’ve been raped so much by now I’ve lost count of exactly the number of violations I’ve endured. Faces begin to blur, man after man, an old one, a young one, a fat one, a hairy one, ones of different races, ones with big cocks, ones with small cocks, circumcised and uncircumcised, but all with the same merciless inhuman expression as they take their turn to rape me. Glancing down in a moment between partners I see blood streaked down my thighs, as red as my hair. It says something about the male psyche that anyone still finds me desirable when blowjob I’m such a wreck. I’ve been sweating heavily even though the heat is going from the day. My hair is matted to my skull. And I feel soiled, so soiled that an eternity of cleaning will never remove the sensation of so many touches on me. Dribbling streaks of filth run so far down both my thighs that they’re reaching my ankles. My buttocks are so slick it’s like they’re oiled. They slip and slide against each other with the few movements of my pelvis I can still manage. It is at some time in the thirties that I pass a point where I’m so massage ruined that I’m too unclean for the taste of some. One waiting man changes his mind and steps up behind the helpless Palonae instead of me, and to my eternal shame I’m relieved when he begins to rape her. Another fellow is determined it is me that will bring him to orgasm, but he finds me too soiled to penetrate. His solution is to masturbate into one hand while he touches me with the other, and then wipe his seed over my face, leaving it dripping down my cheek to degrade me in a new way. With the man who japanese follows him, it’s back to business as usual. By the early forties it’s as if I’m looking at the world from inside a dark tunnel, able to see the sunlit afternoon of the desert camp only in the small visible asian circle at the end of the tube. I can’t feel anything now – no hands, no cocks, no pain. It’s cool down here in this vast concrete pipe, and I don’t seem to be restrained. In one direction I see light, and the desert. In the other direction the tunnel goes into to complete darkness, and turning my back on Aghara-Penthay, this is the way I run. 21 - Sixth The deafening noise of a woman’s conquest being broadcast across The Zone brings me reluctantly back to consciousness. Wearily I lift my head to look at the sky, and discover it is my own humiliation that is being shown to the galaxy. It starts with footage of the moment Salarin exposed my breasts. It's half past six when I'm done with eating it. So japan fucking crazy. “What is your age, Claudia?” “Kanna! My thighs flexed as I rode him, my breasts heaving. That all died away though as her cries assailed me. She went japanese over and bent down pulling a collar off the wall. She grunted in protest, not knowing what they were after and feeling annoyed at the violation of blowjob her personal belongings – which was much more of an affront than the violation of her body, something she had just grown to accept as part of everyday life. My heart was racing as I heard her leave out the front door, get in her car and drive off. I'm not finished with the lesson yet, I'm now going to teach you how to cause ANY woman to have the ultimate orgasm and I promise you she will want it many times and probably never say no.. Within just a few minutes we are kissing hard, our tongues entwined and our hands exploring each other. “How is that a punishment?” “It’s a bastardization of the hymn, obviously. Your body will ache for it, crave it like massage a drug. Sometimes three times. She grinned mischievously, and added a asian second finger to my tight filth, and I rewarded her by bringing her face to my bosom, and suffocating her with my breasts. I stepped out and spun for her.