Ingrid and Mercedes, her face glistening with Karen's juices, smiled at each other over Karen's prone body. "What a slut," Ingrid said, tweaking Karen's nipple, bringing a twitching response from her. At Ingrid's words, shame and humiliation rushed through Karen. What had happened? What had they done to her? Her body, covered with sweat, ached from the beating she had taken. Between her legs her thighs felt sticky and warm. She shuddered in revulsion at the way she had reacted. The pleasure of a moment ago was forgotten, and she began to quietly cry as she remembered her body's betrayal, remembered the way she had screamed out during her orgasm, thrashing about, no better than some worthless whore, cumming uncontrollably, unstoppably. She sucked in her lower lip and thought: maybe now they'll let me go...maybe now...please let them let me go...please. She was interupted in her thoughts when she heard Ingrid say, "I'm glad I asked a couple of my friends from Padduck over. They'll love this cunt." "Nooooo...," Karen moaned, "please...let me go...haven't you done enough?" "Done enough?" Ingrid replied, "You loved it, you cunt. I've never seen anyone pop her cork like you just did. Hell, watching you get your rocks off turned me on...hmmm...maybe I will send you home for now; I'm sure Merc and I can take care of my friends. I do need a good fuck." "Wait," Mercedes broke in, "when I was sucking her off, I noticed she's still a virgin." Surprised, "What, she hasn't been popped? A slut like that?" "Nope, and I really want to see her get stuck for the first time." "Why not?" Ingrid shrugged, "I'm sure the boys will have plenty left for us. Let's go get the bitch cleaned up for 'em." Noooo, Karen thought, wasn't it enough that they had beaten her black and blue, that they had turned her body against her, humiliating her? Now they had invited men over to abuse her. She didn't know if she could take anymore.... Ingrid and Mercedes quickly unclasped her arms and legs and half-dragged half-carried her across the room and down a wide hallway. They pulled her unrestisting body through an open doorway into a large shower stall with nozzles protruding from every wall. They reattached her wrist bands and, pulling her arms up and apart, clipped them to the top edge of the stall. Karen let out a sharp cry as cold water instantaneously struck her whole body. She jerked her chin up to remove it from the painful spray, and began shivering uncontrollably. The hard, pulsating spray felt like it was flaying her alive, driving against her whipped flesh, sending ice cold sparks of pain through her body. Slowly though, the water began to warm, and her shivering began to subside. She noticed vaguely, through the spray blocking her vision, Ingrid and Mercedes leaving the room. Oh, God, let them not come back, she thought, and began to relax for the first time since she had been kidnapped that evening. The water helped, beating into her sore muscles, massaging her bruised skin, sluicing down her stomach and thighs. She became more and more relaxed, and hung her head, letting the water beat against her scalp. She slumped down and began to doze off, the tensions of the evening, as well as her own orgasm, draining her of energy. After she did not know how long, the water snapped off, and she raised her head groggily. Standing before her were Ingrid and Mercedes. Ingrid stood bare-footed, attired in black stockings held up by a black garter belt. Bikini leather panties barely covered her pubic hair, and her stomach was bare. A black bustier squeezed her large, round breasts up and together. Black lipstick adorned her lips and she had touched her eyes lightly with mascara. She stood heavily on one leg with her hip thrust out, her hand against her hip and a cruel grin on her face. Beside her, Mercedes was completely naked except for a studded black leather collar around her neck. Karen noticed with a shock that she did not have any pubic hair, which, combined with her slight frame, made her look like a young girl of 11 or 12 years. Her stance, though, belied her slim hips and small breasts, for it was confident and sure. She was holding a large towel, and walked casually up to Karen and began to dry her off. After her long shower, Karen's skin was hyper-sensitive, so she squirmed away from Mercedes, who just more vigorously rubbed the abrasive towel against Karen's tenderized skin. Finishing by drying her hair, Mercedes then unclasped her wrists, leaving her leather cuffs on, and Ingrid and Mercedes gently took her by the arms and began walking her back to the main room. She was beaten, physically and emotionally drained by her experiences, and they knew it. Held between them, she asked, "Please can I go back to my room now? I can't take anymore." "Sure you can," Mercedes smiled, "we've got two virile young men just waiting to fuck you." Karen moaned, "Noooo...please..."; interupted by a stinging slap from Ingrid, shocking her out of her daze and back into this horrible reality where she was beaten and raped again and again. "Shut up, slut," Ingrid growled, "and behave. It'll only be as bad as you make it." She had to escape. She just had to. She knew she couldn't take anymore abuse; it would drive her crazy. Her body was still sore, her shoulders aching from when she had hung her weight from them, her skin burning from the aftereffects of the switching and the shower. Her classmates weren't holding her too closely; she could easily twist away from them. She was sure she could outrun them once she got away, and then she would make it to the highway and someone would pick her up. She would tell the police and they would be arrested. Even if she didn't make it, even if she froze to death outside, it would be better than this torture. Her thoughts were broken by a long, low whistle: "Damn, you sure did a number on her. She's a looker though." She jerked her head up at the voice and beheld two young men, naked, their clothes piled on the ground beside their feet. Both stood about 21 years old and 5'10, and where one was stocky and brown-haired, the other was slim with blond hair. It was the slim one who had spoken. Without thinking, she twisted from the girls' grip, turning as she did so, and ran toward the door. She heard cries of "Shit" and "Son of a..." and the sound of pounding feet on the hardwood floor following her. She was halfway to the door when a heavy weight hit her in the small of her back. Strong arms wrapped around her as she fell forward. She barely got her hands under her as she fell, and fell hard against the hardwood floor, knocking the breath from her lungs. As she gasped for breath strong hands forced her arms behind her, where her wrist cuffs were clipped together, and she heard Ingrid say, "Stupid bitch...I'll fucking show her..." "Wait," a voice broke in, "I've got an idea." She recognized the voice as the slim young man's. Mercedes and the stocky man kneeled on either side of her as she lay there, gasping for breath, and wrapped a thick, leather belt around the crook of her elbows. Mercedes quickly pulled the belt tight, bringing Karen's elbows together, sending a painful strain into her shoulders, pulling them back and thrusting her aching breasts into the floor. "Roll her over," the young man said, and she was roughly rolled over onto her back. She lay there, her arms crushed painfully under her, her breasts thrust like an offering toward the ceiling, her lolling back on the hardwood floor. Everyone stood up as she began to regain her breath, and Ingrid and Mercedes grabbed her ankles, pulling them toward her head. In a second, Karen was bent painfully in two, her knees beside her head, her hair pinned down on the floor by one knee each from Ingrid and Mercedes, who also pinned her calves to the floor with strong hands. She struggled briefly, but found she could not move much. She was trapped there with her ass and vagina stuck gaping into the air. It was a humiliating position, and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the world around her. Ingrid leaned close to her face and hissed, "Now you're going to get it," and Karen's eyes widened in terror as she looked between her legs and saw the slim man approaching her backside holding a medium sized belt in his hand. The other man was slightly behind him holding the videotape recorder. Both of their penis' were coming to life as they thought of the punishment they were about to inflict. "You're going to have to learn your place, cunt," the man snarled as the belt whistled through the air, landing with a dull, wet smacking sound directly on Karen's cunt and mound. A blinding white flash of pain seared through her guts and temporarily blinded her, her body thrashing her hips up and out, trying in any way to escape the torment within her. Her voice was not her own as a horrible shriek escaped her lips: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGG. It seemed to go on and on in her own ears, and the pain kept building. She heard another dull smack and she exploded in pain again as the belt dug into the tender flesh of her vagina, her voice a siren wailing, her body thrashing around, banging again and again against the hard floor. Another smack and her whole groin was on fire, burning and aching, the pain overwhelming all her senses: she could not hear nor see, all she could do was feel. She wasn't sure if he hit her again, although he must have, for the agony kept increasing, building to an almost inhuman level where she thought her entire pelvis must explode, wished it would explode, just to release the awful agony which was consuming her. It was beyond pain, beyond sensation; it was as if at the end of every one of the nerves in her pelvis area a little fire had been lit. The noise had stopped, her mouth open in a silent scream. She half felt a weight lean against her, two hands roughly grab her breasts, mauling them between strong fingers, pressing them into her chest. She felt vaguely a jabbing around her vulva, and felt her hymen tear, the pain of that violation subsumed by the greater pain left from the whipping, merely adding more sensation to her already overburdened nerves. He was kneeling by her ass, his hands mauling her breasts, pinching her nipples, causing her head to thrash back and forth as his cock slammed mercilessly back and forth into her tortured vagina, thinly coated with the blood of her hymen. She thrust uncontrollably back at him, the fire within her an unbearable, burning pressure, a pressure which she, without thinking, needed to burst. She began grunting at each powerful thrust; her world had narrowed to the terrible, overwhelming, consuming sensation centered in her cunt. Suddenly the pounding stopped, and her voice rose into a kining, monotone wail. He pulled out, quickly losing hardness, leaving her hips bobbing up and down, her cunt gasping and sucking in air. Her mind screamed Nooooo...only a little more...a little more and it would all be over...she would overwhelm her senses and achieve oblivion...she needed just a little more.... Suddenly she was filled again with one brutal thrust as the stocky man slammed his cock into her to the hilt. He worked feverishly, slapping her tits, her face, pinching her nipples, calling her whore, slut, bitch, cunt. She didn't hear, didn't feel, didn't care, her whole body was on the edge. He punched his cock into her and ground his pelvis against her clit, sending her over the top. She froze, every muscle standing out in straining relief against her body; she screamed as every sensation--the bite of the belt into her pussy, the brutal tearing of her hymen, the slaps, the pinches, the awful, overwhelming pressure was sucked down, like a collapsing star, into one timy piece of flesh, her clitorus. Then it exploded in wave after wave of painful ecstacy, and she felt her body convulse with every pulse from her clit, her strength inhuman in the throws of her orgasm. She was free of restraining hands, free of the man's penis, which had filled her with seed the moment of her orgasm, free to bang her legs and ass, her shoulders, her head, again and again against the hard floor, flopping around like a beached fish. Finally, she doesn't know after how long, or if she lost conscousness as wave after wave of unbearable pleasure ripped through her body, she came to her senses. Her whole body ached, especially her arms, shoulders, and vagina, but she didn't care; she was removed from everything, like she was caught in that strange land between sleep and waking. Voices drifted down to her..."freaky...on tape?..every twitch...what a cunt...bite my prick off...shit." Hands lifted her, wrapped something around her, led her into chilly air which she hardly noticed, laid her down on a bed where she quickly fell into a deep sleep.