I have trouble opening my eyes, still nauseous from being knocked out. Can’t move arms - under me somewhere. Head up, on pillow? Something in mouth, filling it, wrenching my jaw open. Too open. Hurts.
Flickers of light. A room. Sounds of men laughing. In front of my eyes two beige mounds. Past them two legs, wide spread, then, in the distant darkness, men.
More awake. Struggle to move. Can’t. Arms bound. Something tight around my forearms. Ankles, too. Can’t pull legs together.
Scared. Where am I? My cry for help a thin moaning noise that attracts attention. Between my bare breasts, I see down over my belly to my crotch. All naked. Squirming.
I heave and jerk, plunging up and down on the bed against the pitiless ropes holding me, helpless to stop them, those men gathering at the foot of the bed, talking about my body as if it were meat, something for them to grope and spank and rape and whip. Something I can’t prevent. But which, with my head up on this pillow, I have to watch.
A meaty hand surrounding a beer bottle comes closer as I watch. The bottle’s neck poking painfully at my breasts before sliding down over my belly. I try to jerk away, to ask them not to, to scream, to plead, to beg, to cry out, to squeal helplessly as the hard glass is shoved into my cunt, further and further, until the wide part hammers my clit.
I scream, keep on screaming, writhing and shaking until I faint.
