Melinda screamed. Her body arched tightly across the back of the couch her backside lifted high into the air as she sobbed, writhing in pain and pleasure combined. It didn't matter how ashamed she was, or afraid she felt, they had complete control over her body and there was nothing she could do about it.

Her pussy clenched around the cock now buried within her core. She whimpered, her hips rolling, bucking beneath him. She groaned, sobbing, as she thrust back against the man, not caring which one now used her. They were both the same. Men who would and could use her at their whim.

She was lost. Trapped. Enslaved. She couldn't fight them. She didn't want to fight them. Not with how she would be treated if she disobeyed them. She didn't want that again, not the whip, not with how much it hurt.

She'd been introduced to a world of pain and humiliation since they had taken her from her world. Her home. Her life. Her body was forced against the couch with each thrust. Her core rippled, clenching around the cock in her body. A hand tightened in her hair, holding her painfully in place. Her scalp protested at the grip, small shards of pain lancing across her head.

She sobbed, tears burning a path down her cheeks. Her throat tightened, hands locked behind her back in a set of cruel cuffs. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into the palms of her hands. She twisted, trying to find a moment where she wasn't in pain.

It didn't work.

Nothing worked.

One hand tightened on her hip, the other in her hair, his grunts filling the room. Her thighs clenched. He was close. His cock swelled, pressing against her inner walls. Her breath burned in her throat. Her chest was tight. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust. Her nipples were hard and stomach taut.

She sobbed, lifting her head under the painful grasp that tangled within her hair. Her back arched tightly. Sweat beaded across her breasts and inner thighs. She tried to pull her hands free, but it didn't work. If she could brace herself, it would ease the pain. But she couldn't escape. She couldn't ease the pain.

Nothing would help her.

Nothing except the men leaving her alone.

"So tight. So fucking tight!" Carl snarled. Carl. The man she had planned on marrying. The man who had betrayed her. The man who now fucked her as if she was nothing but a lump of meat to be used, abused and tossed away when they were done with her.

She wanted to cry out, beg for mercy, but it wouldn't help. Nothing would help except her complete and utter submission. She was a slave; at the end of the day she was a slave, and they could do whatever they wanted to her, with her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I'm going to cum -- fuck, I'm going to fill the bitch!"

Please, god, just get it over with

Her body ached. She sobbed, twisting beneath him. She had to survive this. Push through and find a way to break free.

There was no freedom for her. No means to escape.

"Fuck back against me, whore. Yeah, that's it. Move for me!"

She had no choice, each thrust sent her hard against the couch. She'd be bruised across the line of her hips by the time they were finished, and she didn't even dare offer a protest.

"God!" Carl screamed. "Can't hold back!"

His cock pumped against her inner walls. Slick heat coated her being. She sobbed, arching beneath him, knowing he was about to cum. Knowing it wasn't something she could prevent. She knew she was helpless to their desires.

She knew this was the way she would spend the rest of her life -- a slave, chained, collared, used and abused at the whim of the ones who controlled her.