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European Nightmare Part V

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not endorse any of the actions depicted in this work. Please do not read if you are easily offended or have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality.

Author's Note: We would greatly appreciate any feedback, suggestions or ideas for continuing the story or characters. My email address is [email protected]. So please feel free to contact us. Enjoy.

The smoke from an extinguished cigarette curled in thin blue tails in the air. As he studied the documents, the gray-haired detective's furrowed brow began to sweat slightly. The years of work on the case consumed him, costing him his wife, his family, his home and most of his friends. All he had left was work, and the work was in this business. Despite repeated requests from above to give up on the problem and move on, he kept coming back, obsessed with solving the problem. He woke up thinking, fell asleep thinking, and even thought about it when he had to poop. He knew he was a stereotypical detective engrossed in the investigation, but a stereotype; was lost to him. The case remained at a dead end for years, with mysterious disappearances inevitably leading to unsolved cases, allegations of human trafficking and high-level corruption, and an apparent disinterest from his superiors, whom he believed should be handling such cases. In recent years, his drinking and smoking habits had spiraled out of control, and the few people who still cared about him were deeply concerned about his health.

And now it's back. On the same day, Detective Daniel Hanneman received a call from Berlin about three missing British schoolgirls in Munich. The UK is putting pressure on German law enforcement to find them and catch the perpetrators. Given the similarity of this disappearance to many of his other disappearances, his superiors assigned him to the case, even though the district commissioner seemed surprisingly uninterested in such an important matter. He had all of his files from previous cases in front of him and on his laptop were the files that had just been sent to him. He lit another cigarette and absentmindedly looked at the photos of the three missing British girls. They matched the profile of the others he was looking for; young and beautiful. It annoyed him that several valuable English sluts had disappeared before his superiors had shown the slightest interest in his work. At least it's finally being taken seriously. Clutching his cup of coffee, he took a deep drag and looked at the display case in front of him. Another night awaited him, sleeping very little and searching for an important, elusive clue.

There must be something, he thought, that unites the victims. Maybe they went somewhere where they were noticed and captured. Ten girls have disappeared in the last two years, all in the same area. Daniel looked at the map he had created: the red circles indicated places that tourists and young people could visit; Bars, nightclubs, hotels, parks. I look at the girls. files and then his card, he noticed something. When the three girls' faces were published, they received few calls, mostly from perverts telling them what they hoped had happened to them. But one of them claimed to have seen them walking down a street with about a dozen bars, very close to their hotel and in the right area. Daniel cursed himself for not seeing this sooner, probably because he hadn't slept in the last few days. He looked at the time — 01:20. If he hurried, he could check out a few places before they closed. It would make more sense than sitting here for hours looking at the same documents. Daniel felt old and a little exhausted, but with a slight spring in his step, he set off.

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Greta looked at the two women like pieces of meat or wallpaper prints and frowned in concentration. Very specific and very high standards have been applied to their clients for many years. Even though it was one of his less eccentric requests, she still wanted to do it right and took her time with the decision. As she moved her gaze from one woman's body to another, she judged her based on her experience, capturing details that an untrained eye might miss, comparing her figure, facial expression, muscle tone, and even her nails and haircuts to standards . One woman in particular worried her, a tear rolling down her cheek. Without the two naked women, it could be an ordinary business meeting: an elegantly dressed woman in an expensive suit speaks to two equally well-dressed men in an inconspicuous and expensive office. But this was clearly a very different meeting. The two men held their charges firmly in an upright position and the stern blonde focused her gaze on the body The woman harassing her walked around the table to get a closer look.

“Stand up properly,” he said. Greta snapped impatiently at the man holding the woman. He immediately raised the woman's arms, forcing her to sit up even more. Greta's piercing gaze slid over every inch of her black skin as the woman stood trembling before her. With a brisk pace intended to instill fear, Greta walked around the woman, checking her curves and skin for any imperfections that might make her unsatisfactory to the customer. She ran her hand over the cleft of the woman's buttocks, her white hand contrasting sharply with the dark red color of her smooth skin. In order to keep the touching to a minimum, as her client had requested, she still had to feel this girl's ass. Almost everyone else found the girls stunningly attractive; Slim yet curvy, both with toned bodies, proud and perky breasts that stand out on the chest, flawless skin and soft yet sexy and feminine facial features. But Greta saw girls like that almost every day and had to look deeper. She squeezed her bottom tightly and looked satisfied as she returned to her chair and looked at the documents. After receiving the request a few weeks ago, she immediately began purchasing goods for her customer. An extensive search yielded results, and Greta narrowed the list down to these two: a black man from a suburb of Paris and an Asian man from a boarding school in Macau. In truth, for Greta it didn't matter where they came from, all that mattered was that they were at their best. These two were.

“Yeah, they’ll do a great job,” he said. Greta said without looking at the two men: “Send her away.”

"Yes, ma'am," they both repeated at the same time before shooing the two women out of the office.

Greta sat down and relaxed. The stress of this task had been weighing heavily on her for the last few days and it was a great relief to finally complete it. She did an excellent job and fulfilled the wish exactly. Admittedly, the two she chose would be welcome additions to her own collection, not to mention his much smaller but growing collection. The girls she had matched with him over the years had been almost exclusively white European, and she knew from experience that a little variety was always good. When her thoughts actually turned to her own collection, she realized that even though there were a lot of Asians there, there was only one really dark one and a few interracial ones. To this end, she noted in her diary that she would send her scouts to search for suitable specimens. When she returned to the present, she turned on the surveillance cameras in the basement and enjoyed looking at each of her new toys. The last few days couldn't have been better, but she was still worried. A few days later she had special guests, very loyal customers who expect quality. Although the new acquisitions would be perfect for her, Greta was worried that they would still be too crude. It was a race against time with nothing to lose, so Greta turned off the monitor and packed up her things. Another long day. However, not as long as with her new slaves.

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This time Lucy was woken up not by the dreaded alarm clock, but by the mechanical clicking and whirring of the electronic door slowly swinging open. Because of the dark hallway, Lucy couldn't clearly see the figure standing at the entrance. It was neither Mehmet nor Hassan, and although it looked like a woman, something about its elegant demeanor made her think it wasn't Greta. She struggled to make out the details, but soon she didn't have to try anymore as the creature entered the dark room. As she slowly shifted her gaze from her graceful legs to her silky black hair, the prostrate girl's face reflected both surprise and astonishment, mixed with a little fear. In front of her stood a classic oriental beauty. Her toenails were in perfect condition, painted a deep shade of red, and she wore impossibly high heels that fabulously framed her long golden brown legs, or at least those visible through a long, black patterned cheongsam that hung just below her. Knee, large wound on one side almost reaching thigh. Lucy's eyes continued their long journey up the woman's elegant body: the figure that hugged the dress emphasized the athletic body underneath, the thick fabric stood out seductively and hid the woman's breasts. Her throat seemed endless, adding to the grace that oozed from every pore. Her face resembled the most exquisite figure on priceless Chinese porcelain, her features were soft, delicate, but impassive. Her jet black hair was tied back gracefully and her luscious black locks were held in place by a single jade hairpin. The beauty and purity of the woman's presence was mesmerizing.

"Come".

The voice matched the face perfectly, spoken with a practiced grace that was almost hiddencompletely the accent that was just suggested. With that single word, the woman turned in one fluid motion and walked away, leaving only her fragrant scent in the dark room. Lucy was nervous. She and her friends had seen nothing but horror in this wretched place, and she expected it to be the same here. Just because this woman hadn't tortured her personally didn't mean she wouldn't be tortured if she followed her. And yet, despite her fears, Lucy knew that disobedience would do no good. So she staggered to her feet, the sleeplessness and physical exertion of the last few days making her weak and stiff, and began to follow the fragrant trail of the exotic guest. Her gait was awkward and the long masturbation of the last few hours had left her labia red and sore. She crossed one arm over her chest and pressed the other to her crotch to protect what little modesty she had. As Lucy turned the corner, she saw a woman standing at the end of the hallway. It was amazing how quickly she moved across the floor, her eyes beckoning the stumbling girl to follow her. And so Lucy did, her long legs dragging on the ground as she tried to walk down the stone corridor. Eventually she caught up with the oriental beauty, who silently opened the door to her right and slipped inside. Lucy followed him in silence. The woman climbed the stone steps effortlessly. Lucy paused and then stood wearily, hoping the flight would be short given her numb legs. Still covering herself and bowing her head, Lucy's mind swam in an ocean of memories of what had happened and fear of what was to come.

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Tied up in completely different positions, the two girls in the basement felt like the hours passed very slowly. The stone walls echoed to the rhythm of the car driving in and out of Holly, punctuated by the intermittent groans of pain and shame from the two victims. In complete darkness, the mechanical noise became even more frightening, reminiscent of an ominous laundry in a harsh area. But the two teenagers didn't care what their torture chamber sounded like, they focused on the pain that tormented their bodies and the fear and depression that consumed their minds.

Olivia tried to remain silent so as not to irritate her new wound, which, although she didn't know it, had been done so skillfully that it healed quickly. Unfortunately for them. The initial sharp, unbearable pain was replaced by a dull ache that only worsened as she involuntarily moved her mouth. And it wasn't just my mouth that hurt. Due to the abuse of the last few days, her whole body ached and she groaned every time she twitched. Her breasts were bruised from the squeezing and twisting and one nipple was particularly swollen and red. Her pussy was in constant pain. Her brutal rape when she first woke up was painful enough, but every time she was tortured there, the situation got worse. But what hurt more than the physical pain was the psychological pain of knowing there was no immediate escape. She had already been forced to humiliate herself, and being a little smart, she knew exactly the reason for her recent injury. She had watched enough porn, seen enough pictures on the Internet, and heard enough people talk to understand why Greta wanted her to have a longer tongue. Olivia tried her best not to think about what the future held for her, but she just couldn't shake the terror that gripped her. Only by having a clear head could she hold back her tears.

Holly across the street had an even sadder case. She couldn't suppress a whimper, even as the mechanical clatter of the machine rhythmically shaking her red, wet pussy drowned out the sound of her pathetic whimpers. Having never been fucked for the first eighteen years, she had now been fucked almost non-stop for the last four hours. In truth, she lost track of time and the sounds of her automatic rapist faded into the background. But what hurt the most wasn't the constant slaps to her buttocks, causing permanent bruises with each stroke, but rather, strangely, the fact that she came many times. She didn't try, but after hours of being fucked, she couldn't stop it at all, each orgasm coming faster and faster, her pussy now slick as an oil slick, and the lube was squirting out the top of the rubber, the dildo, and her her own juices beginning to pool on the floor beneath her. Her entire body trembled with each climax, a wave of pleasure coursing through her and then immediately being replaced by the underlying pain of her exhausted body. Each orgasm was minor, the monotony of sex stimulating her slowly and methodically, but the constant stimulation was almost as emotionally draining as the pain that followed. At first she enjoyed it almost like a rare moment of pleasure in an ocean of pain. Although she hadn't had sex before being trapped in that horrible basement, Holly was no stranger to orgasm. But The constant brutal fucking of the machine while she was bound and bound was a far cry from the gentle touch of her fingers in her comfortable bed at home. She soon began to dread any impending orgasm, causing her to constantly associate pleasure with pain. Worst of all was the throbbing pain of her huge breasts, which were now just a lump of pain and were so squeezed that it hurt even without being touched. But with her head and arms held tightly in the heavy wooden blocks, her heaving chest was forced to hit the hard wood, causing even more pain to her magnificent breasts. Although the sound of her huge mounds hitting the wells was quiet compared to the other sounds in the basement, her whimpers were audible with each impact and did nothing to ease her suffering now. And the intense heat she felt in her latex bodysuit made her sweat so profusely that it contracted slightly along with her tears and pussy juices, causing even more discomfort. Her body was wracked with pain, Holly felt like a factory farm animal waiting to be slaughtered. And as she suspected, her torment wouldn't end any time soon.

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An amber light flooded the metallic forest of worship vehicles that stretched as far as the eye could see across the desolate landscape. The white haired man was used to the sight, but it still made him smile as he rubbed his swollen stomach. Jeremiah now spent so little time there that he liked to keep a photo on the wall of his home office as a reminder of where his happiness began. All that black gold beneath the surface allowed him to sit here in $10,000 snakeskin boots in a room furnished with the most expensive paraphernalia money can buy. However, this was not the best part of his wealth and influence. With a groan of pleasure he looked at the blonde head bobbing up and down on his erect member. He placed his right hand on the back of her head and pushed her down, causing her to gag as his cock slid down her throat. Despite her education, she still needed a job; Her struggle to deepthroat him needed to be tempered. He had been dating a smart little college girl for three weeks, and despite his best efforts, he still didn't like her the way he expected. It would take some time, but he was confident he would get her there eventually. Of course, with the help of Greta Schweinberg, he would turn her into a good little sex slave in no time.

Still, he had to admit that she had come a long way since he first welcomed her. All those trips to Germany had whetted his appetite and, following Greta's instructions, he set about getting his own little toy. When he saw this, he knew it was perfect. The decision to give her an internship was easy for her. Her face when she woke up in his basement was an image and her shock and fear a constant reminder. He really enjoyed taking the little slut up a few notches since her Harvard education did nothing to stop his whips, his bonds, or his cock. He fucked her in every way imaginable, used her in ways she could never have imagined, and caused her pain beyond her wildest nightmares. Of course there was a small investigation, a trivial matter as his army of lawyers prevented the police from approaching him. While people were still searching for that piece of rock, her mouth was full of his swollen cock and his head slid deep into her throat. Six minutes passed and he began to worry, the feeling of her hot, wet tongue on his sensitive penis was one of life's greatest gifts. As he stood up, he grabbed her head with both hands as the girl continued to bounce up and down on his cock. Without warning, he pulled his cock out of her mouth, enjoying the way she still reached out to satisfy him, or at least avoid punishment. Leaving just the tip of his cock in the pleasure cave of her mouth, Jeremiah moved forward and rammed his cock deep into her throat. If her technique had been better he would have let her finish him off alone, but he wanted to fuck her pretty face.

“Look up, you stupid whore,” he said. The Texan shouted at the girl: “Remember, I want to see those eyes.”

He continued thrusting back and forth, pushing her hair aside so he could look into her eyes and fuck her face. The girl looked up, her mouth open like an obedient dog's, her long eyelashes perfectly framing her stunning sapphire blue eyes, sparkling in the light and quietly crying out for help. Looking down, he was sure she already knew he wasn't going to show her any mercy, pushing his cock back and forth, his big, round belly obscuring her perfect face from time to time. He held her hair tightly in his hands and threw his head back lustfully. The brutal mouth rape filled the room with gagging as he pumped his cock in and out of her.

After Melissa had done everything to please him, she now simply knelt obediently andallowed her mouth to be used as a sex toy. She's been through a lot in the last three weeks, but she still hasn't gotten used to it. It was impossible to believe that this could happen to anyone in the 21st century, especially in the United States. She continued to reminisce, trying to remember her life before all this suffering. When she applied for a generously paid internship, she felt like her life was amazing. A high-achieving student at a prestigious college with a great circle of friends, a loving, supportive family, a smart guy who was also a very good-looking college athlete - and then she landed a coveted job at a big company. Her future life will be the envy of many contemporaries. However, all of this has disappeared. One moment she was having coffee with the company boss and the next moment she woke up tied up and helpless in a dark basement. In the days that followed, he raped, tormented, tortured, humiliated and destroyed her, robbing her of all self-esteem. Although she was determined to escape, she knew that she had to wait for the right time and obey him as much as possible to avoid his various tortures and punishments. What upset her most, however, was the arbitrary nature of his painful torments. Even complete submission to him and everything he demanded didn't stop him from inflicting unimaginable pain on her. Her screams of pain and tears of fear seemed to be music to his ears. Since she was very attractive, she could at least understand why this fat old man wanted to fuck her over and over again, but that didn't explain the terrible torture he gleefully inflicted or why he talked to her like she was a vermin . All she could do was wait and hope that someone would eventually rescue her from this hell on earth.

Jeremy didn't care what the little slut thought as he rammed his cock down her throat. All he cared about now was the way her mouth around his cock pushed him closer and closer to climax. With a loud groan, he pushed his cock down her throat until it was up to the hilt, enjoying the sound of her choking on his cock. His whole body was shaking, both hands holding the girl's face tightly to his crotch as he came, groaning loudly, shooting wads of his cum down the girl's hissing throat, feeling her muscles spasm around his cock as she despaired tried to breathe. She swallowed as much of his cum as she could just to get some air. He listened as she coughed and sprayed him with cum, laughing as she desperately gasped for air. He waited until he was sure she was panicking before pulling his hips back, giving the girl some precious oxygen. A thick line of cum extended from the tip of his gradually softening cock into her petite little mouth, and more cum flowed from her mouth onto her chin. She coughed again, sending more of his thick secretion from her throat into her mouth. But Jeremiah was not happy.

“Don’t you dare cough like that,” he said. He growled, the pleasure of his orgasm now replaced by the pleasure of watching her deteriorate and "swallow every last drop." And be grateful, little bitch.

Melissa looked away and swallowed the cum, barely able to hide her disgust. She already knew that the only way she could avoid further punishment was to swallow every drop of his cum. With her hands tied behind her back, she had to run her tongue along her chin to collect everything she could. But even when she did, her ordeal wasn't over. She felt her tormentor's stubby finger stroking her face as if she were a child in a high chair, gathering up all the sperm she couldn't reach and scooping it into her mouth. Melissa was forced to humiliatingly suck the cum he had collected from his finger, trying not to cough as he pushed his index finger and then his middle finger deep into her mouth. He squeezed the end of his cock to drip the remaining cum onto his fingers and then put his fingers back in her mouth and pushed them back and forth like a pseudophallus.

“That’s it,” he said. Jeremiah grinned. "I bet you already have a thing for cum, you dirty slut." Show me it's all over.

With a heavy heart, Melissa stared at her captor, trying unsuccessfully to hide her shame. She reluctantly opened her mouth until she finally looked at him with her mouth open and her tongue reaching up to her chin. She felt like a dog performing in front of its owner, and the comparison wasn't wrong. She looked up at the man's wrinkled, lustful face as he lowered his hand and tilted her face from side to side, checking every crevice of her mouth. Apparently satisfied, he sat up and still looked expectantly at the kneeling girl.

“Come on, bitch,” he said with a hint of anger on his face, “Show your fucking gratitude!”

Melissa closed her eyes, ready to find out more.another act aimed at humiliating her. She couldn't decide what was the worst; The frequent sexual abuse he inflicted on her, the constant physical pain he inflicted on her, or the psychological torment he subjected her to, steadily eroded this proud girl's self-esteem. They were all unimaginably terrible, and yet she didn't need to imagine them happening. To make matters worse, his appetite seemed to never end as he continued to plunge to new depths of desperation that never failed to surprise Melissa. She still had every intention of escaping and bringing him to justice, but she was beginning to doubt whether she would be here for many more years. The thought of spending her life locked inside this kinky, fat cunt chilled her to the bone. As if reading a script, Melissa sighed and repeated exactly what he had expected her to say.

“Thank you for your sperm, Master.”

“Please, slave,” he said. Jeremiah replied, “Are you forgetting something?”

With another sigh, Melissa leaned forward and, with the tenderness Jeremiah always liked, kissed the end of his member, now hanging limply from his dangling scrotum. In the life she knew before, she would never have considered going near this man's cock, but now she had no choice but to practically worship him. It was hard to believe how far she had fallen in just a few weeks: from a successful and ambitious young woman to nothing more than a sex slave.

"Good girl." Jeremiah said patronizingly, patting his slave on the head to reaffirm her submission, “Stand up!”

He barked the final command at her, the transition between the tones shocking even Melissa, although she had already expected such naked anger from him. She obeyed immediately and struggled to her feet, even though she couldn't use her arms. She spread her legs slightly and stuck out one high-heeled foot. She paused to compose herself, kicked off, quickly but tremblingly stood up on both feet and used all her strength to lift herself off the ground. She swayed angrily from side to side, trying to stand tall and still, desperate to avoid his wrath. The ridiculously high heels he had put on her made it incredibly difficult to stand still, and she swayed like a newborn gazelle as she stood before him, nervously waiting to see what he would say to her next.

Jeremiah watched as his captive swayed from the side, struggling to control the stripper shoes he had forced her to wear. At a good six inches tall, they made her slightly taller than him, but only because he allowed it. Everything she did was because he allowed it. He couldn't believe he had lived this long without such direct physical power over another person. As he returned to the edge of the table, he didn't take his eyes off the girl who stood hesitantly in front of him. He could only remember a few women in his life who were so extremely attractive. Everything about her was from a teenager's wet dream; long, lean legs, a strong ass, a toned, flat stomach, graceful arms and legs, a face that could melt hearts, and eyes that, at least to Jeremiah, were designed to be filled with fear. Her crowning glory, however, was her breasts. When she entered his office a month ago, his eyes were irresistibly drawn to the mounds that her snow-white shorts tried in vain to hide. He could only do his best not to stare at her with a grin as the stuck-up bitch talked nonsense, and this was the first interview he had ever sat through with angry excitement. When she left, he knew he had to get his hands on those juicy tits and jerk off while he thought about squeezing his face between them. His first look at them, freed from their tissue prison, was awe-inspiring: each of them was a flawless example of perfect breasts. Although from a distance her breasts appeared to be only slightly larger than average for her tall, slim and athletic body, a hands-on examination revealed that this was not true. Checking her bra size confirmed that Jeremy has his own pair of DDs to play with. And he had to play with them. In the last few weeks he had beaten them, twisted them, tied them up, kicked them on their doorsteps, stuck his cock between them and committed all sorts of other acts of torment and torment. Whatever he wanted to do with those balls he did, the more pain he caused the better. And now he had another idea.

Although she tried her best not to think about the pain she was feeling, she now had more time to think about the old man's lustful gaze directed angrily at her. Although her expressionless face tried to rob her of the painful pleasure, he was sure her body was screaming in pain, especially her severely abused breasts. With her hands tied behind her back and her elbows tied tightly, her tits jutted out invitingly and he took the opportunity to adorn them appropriately. Two leather belts ran across her body.on either side of her tits, squeezing them together and ending with a strap at her belly button. A thin strip of skin extended down her back from there between her pussy lips and along the crack of her ass before connecting with the rest of the mankini outfit on her back. Each of her perfect pink nipples had a cruel clamp digging into the sensitive nubs with jagged teeth that did anything but tear the skin, and the rest of her sensitive globes were clamped in place with a row of colored plastic clothespins. Melissa's tits had been numb for a long time, so each needle didn't hurt, but it added a tingling tone to the painful clamps on her nipples. She had to walk all day with a belt rubbing against her sensitive genital area and the skin rubbing against her labia until it bled. Aside from the current torture, the pain of the past few weeks also caused her entire body to be in constant discomfort.

“OK, bitch”; Jeremiah said as he pulled up his pants and put his shirt back on, "Stand in the damn corner." Just a few things need to be sorted out and we can be on our way. There we will properly train you.”

Melissa didn't know what he was talking about, when he mentioned it there it was still a shock and she tried not to let her thoughts run away. She walked slowly and carefully to the corner where she was supposed to stand, facing the wall so as not to distract her captor from his work. She used to be proud of her strength and independence, but now this smart, beautiful young woman stood in the corner, naked, bound, tortured, and began to cry.

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The smell was the first thing Lucy noticed as she walked through the door behind the elegant Asian man. Having barely smelled anything other than sweat, tears and fear in the last few days, the overwhelming scent of incense and sensual oils was more than welcome, the power of the scent overwhelming her physically. In front of her hung a bright red curtain decorated with a golden dragon. Behind him, Lucy could hear the sounds of oriental music, punctuated by the occasional sounds of men and women seemingly howling in ecstasy. She stopped dead in her tracks as her emotions overwhelmed her, stopping the woman in front of her. One look from her sultry brown eyes was enough to almost startle Lucy, who without hesitation went off again, still limping slightly, to fetch a black cheongsam. With surprising grace, a long olive arm reached out and pulled back the silk curtain that hung from the ceiling.

Lucy gasped at what she saw and followed her guide again. She could hardly believe her eyes as she stumbled across the room. Her pace seemed to slow down so she could take it all in. Lucy could see colors on all sides that she had almost forgotten existed in the basement; Red, gold, green, blue and royal purple. The smell she smelled on the other side of the curtain was even stronger here: candles burning on all sides filled the room with the sweet scent of a Turkish bath. What caught her most attention, however, wasn't the smell or the candles. All along the walls of the hallway were sheer fabric curtains, behind which scenes Lucy could hardly believe were taking place, scenes straight out of an adult film, every kind of sex she could imagine in front of everyone. She stumbled after a jasmine-scented woman and saw a man and a woman, two men and a woman, two, three, four women and a man; It seemed like every possible option was offered. The variety was also extraordinary, from simple sex to combinations of dominance and submission, which were particularly astonishing given the participants' obvious willingness. It's obvious that the three girls were kidnapped not just by a crazy trio, but as part of a much larger and more sinister operation. The woman's snap of her fingers stopped her from staring at the sexy sights for too long, snapping her out of her dazed, almost trance-like state and causing her to stumble quickly to keep up. As she saw the end of the corridor, she wondered what new and bizarre scenes lay beyond. When the woman waved him away, Lucy was almost disappointed.

Beyond it was another dark corridor, much less impressive than the room of sexual delights she had just come from. What Lucy didn't see in the room was the main entrance to the room, a large round door that customers came in and out of. Despite the majestic nature of the heavy crimson wooden door, itself adorned with a large golden dragon, Lucy did not notice it, so absorbed was she in the X-rated scenes around her. Behind the stage was a dark and gloomy room that looked much more like what she had experienced in captivity. Without a word, the elegant figure walked ahead of Lucy and then turned sharply to the left to open the heavy wooden door. Lucy had to run to get throughbecause she knew it wouldn't be open to her. When Lucy entered she was overwhelmed by what she saw. It was not as dark as the other rooms she had been forced into, but she was bathed in the light of many candles, their scents wafting to her in an exquisite aroma. She saw that the walls were dark red and the dark shadows on the wall flickered in the candlelight. In the middle was a large porcelain bathtub with clouds of steam coming out of it. Lucy could hardly believe her eyes, her instincts telling her not to expect the warm bath she had just poured herself to be intended for her. She stood motionless, waiting for instructions from her guide. With an elegant gesture, the dark-haired woman turned to Lucy, her eyes showing no emotion. The piercing gaze caught Lucy's attention as she bent low, trying to cover her body, unlike the proud and confident girl she had been just a few days ago.

“You are very lucky,” he said. She spoke the same practiced English as before, everything connected with her grace and elegance. The woman could see that the young Englishwoman was taken aback by a statement she thought was so obviously false, and continued, "The lady has chosen you." You will not be like many of the girls who have come through this doors go; a piece of meat for all these old men to fuck and torture.”

Lucy knew the woman was talking about her friends. Apparently what she had seen on TV when she was forced to fuck herself with a dildo was a glimpse into her future, especially now that she had seen the extent of the operation they were involved in. Not only had she been kidnapped for the sick, perverted pleasure of a crazy woman and her obedient, lustful friends, she also realized that they had been brought in as new recruits to an underground international sex slave gang. It was like something from the news or a sick and twisted movie. Except Lucy knew it was completely real and happening. She listened to what she was hearing, but her mind wandered as she wondered how desperate her situation was.

“Instead, you will work here,” he said. - said the woman with clinical coldness, - with others who were chosen. Your job is to make your customers as happy as they want. You also have the opportunity to help the Mistress and clients while having fun. You will learn everything you need to be successful.

Lucy was shocked at what she heard, but couldn't help but feel relieved at what she knew she was avoiding. As much as she felt sorry for her friends, she was still relieved that she didn't have to constantly be exposed to what she experienced and saw in this dungeon. Even at this early stage she seemed to have accepted her fate and learned to enjoy her new surroundings. As she thought about it, she felt terrible, but she also felt a certain pride at being chosen as special. And even though she knew she was overanalyzing her situation, she was glad that she was able to escape the situation she found herself in. In fact, she was so happy that she would no longer be bent over and fucked with nipple clamps that she completely missed being expected to help torture girls just like her friends.

“First you have to be bathed and perfumed,” he said. The woman continued: “Then we can begin.”

With these words, the elegant woman led them into a steamy bath. When Lucy saw this, her mind raced. She felt like she was betraying her friends by accepting this hospitality and giving her captors legitimacy they didn't deserve. But the water was so inviting, and as she thought about it now, the smell it gave off, as well as the smell of sex from her genitals, was obvious. She hesitantly approached the bathroom step by step, each step a silent betrayal of her former life. Lucy closed her eyes and thought about what she was doing. She was drawn to the bathtub and accepted the situation she found herself in. But a combination of discomfort and fear of giving up caused her to move inexorably towards the warm water. The enticing scent of jasmine wafted towards her as she walked to the edge of the white porcelain bathtub and opened her eyes wide to see rose petals scattered across the surface of the water. It was a luxurious bath that Lucy wasn't used to, even when she was free. As she approached the first step, she slowly raised and lowered her foot. Her legs hurt terribly and the water dragged her uncontrollably. She walked faster and climbed the steps to the surface of the water, then took a deep breath and stepped forward.

As the water touched her ankle, Lucy sighed. She had almost forgotten how wonderfully warm the water felt on her skin, and the added bath oils gave her skin a silky kiss. She felt a real orgasm as she sank into the water, the heat so intense she could barely stand it. Simply magical. Lucy couldn't help but smile at the joy she felt as she gently descended into the steaming water. For a moment she tried to forget situations and just enjoy the bath, knowing that at any moment she could disappear again into a world of shame and pain. Deep in the bath, water splashing over her neck, Lucy slid down and closed her eyes, floating into the world of dreams. She then slid further and plunged her head into the water, momentarily breaking out of the hell she was in.

-------------------------------------------------- ---------------------

Greta's footsteps on the stairs signaled the beginning of the next torture session for the other two victims. But due to the noise in the basement, neither Holly nor Olivia heard the click of their heels on the hard stone steps and therefore did not realize that their next session of pain and humiliation was inevitable. Greta chose to turn off the lights and maintain her exit to maximize the girls' surprise and fear. Despite the darkness, she knew how many steps there were and she walked down with determination. Even though she knew what she was doing was important to her company, she enjoyed spending time here the most. It would be great to see what the night did to their little pets. She could already hear the rhythmic, throbbing sound of the mechanical dildo stabbing into the tortured pussy of the big titted cow she loved to torment. It would be awesome to see her broken little slut locked up in those sticks, as well as squishing those ridiculous melons with her claw-like claws. And then there was the pleasure of the future pussy licking expert, which she had had no problem with until now. Although she will have plenty of time to have fun with the little princess; It's not that she doesn't have enough toys. While it was a chamber of secrets for the two English schoolgirls, for Greta it was a palace of pleasure. She took the last step and walked slowly across the floor.

The sounds were as magical as the sights that would soon await her. She floated slowly across the floor, listening intently to the many sounds that echoed around the room. The loudest sound came first, a rhythmic tapping sound, similar to the sound of a washing machine, but much more exciting. What was really music to Greta's ears were the quieter sounds, the moans and sobs of the two abused girls suffering from the humiliation she had forced upon them. They liked Olivia's muffled moans best, and Greta stood over the table and listened. She pressed her ear right over the poor girl's mouth, smiling and enjoying the audible evidence of Olivia's pain. Greta's practice was not to express emotions, and smiling was a rare joy for her. She was able to have some fun under the cover of darkness, and the element of surprise added another twist to the girl's torture plan. Greta pointed her fingers and squeezed Olivia's left breast as hard as she could with a big grin. Greta dug her claws into the soft, supple flesh and listened as her moans grew louder. Like a conductor before an orchestra, Greta experimented, trying to change the sounds that came out of her muffled mouth. Greta squeezed the delicate pink flesh of the sensitive nipple with her fingers, listening to the muffled squeaks that grew louder and higher as the mound twisted roughly and her sharp nails dug mercilessly into the baby's chest.

If her mouth hadn't been stuffed with bandages, Olivia would have screamed at the top of her lungs as Greta's long nails dug into her nipple. At first she was sure she was having a heart attack, the pain in her chest was so sudden and intense. It was only when fingers twisted her areola that she realized one of her tormentors had returned to add to her misery. Olivia had her nipple twisted like the dial on an old television and was squealing like a pig. Her mouth was stuffed with gauze, so she couldn't make any real sounds other than whimpers. Although she had tried for several hours to keep her noise to a minimum, this time she could do nothing: the pain Greta caused with just her nails was very intense. Squirming got her nowhere as she was strapped in tight and her only option was to squeal as Greta's other hand moved to attack the teen's other breast, now twisting both nipples violently in pleasure. Olivia arched her back in pain as Greta tugged at her chest in the darkness. As she tried to suppress her screams, Olivia heard the unmistakable laughter of the figure above her. It was still a shock to her that someone could take so much pleasure in another person's pain. As her tits were brutally pulled and twisted, Olivia squealed again, her nipples feeling like they were being ripped from her chest. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the abuse of her tits ended and the room suddenly brightened.

"Light!"

In the sudden light, Olivia saw the face of her tormentor, who not only raped and tortured her, but also cut and physically mutilated her, standing over her the leather dominatrix outfit she received the moment she first woke up in that hellhole. It was all so terrible and as she looked helplessly at the grinning face of the evil one above her, Olivia couldn't hold back her tears.

"Stop crying!" Greta spat, the smile on her face turning into unimaginable anger. “Or I’ll cut off your damn clit.”

With that intimidating threat, Greta walked around the table and examined Olivia's thin but slim body. She really had a great figure and Greta knew she would explore it more in the next few days, especially her beautiful long tongue. She squeezed Olivia's firm, firm tits as she moved down her body. They were exquisite, Greta thought, unusual for such a small girl. Although Holly's melons won the award for best breasts in the small group, this sweet, bubbly cunt's bouncing tits definitely deserved an honorable mention. Many customers went crazy for them and made great toys for them to play with and punish them. Greta ran her long nails over her victim's toned stomach, finally reaching her crotch. When she felt the rough stubble, she made a mental note to shave her toys so they would be in perfect condition. Finally she reached the girl's pussy, which was still red and looked very sore. Her fingers slid over the suffering girl's delicate pussy lips before slipping into the narrow groove of her vagina. Greta wanted to make it clear how helpless this little slut is and how she can do whatever she wants with any part of her body. It was also a beautiful little pussy, pink but with pronounced lips and a nice tight hole. With this catch, Greta hit her mother's bull's eye; three tight babes, each gorgeous in their own way. And knowledge of English was a big bonus. Just the thought of what she would personally do with their young, flexible bodies in the next few days made Greta wet. As she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of Olivia's pussy, she thought about it, barely noticing the grip of Olivia's pussy on her long, manicured fingers. But when she felt the girl's natural reaction to the juice escaping through her fingers, Greta paused; She didn't want Olivia to have fun. She brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them, savoring the taste of her young pussy juices. It was time, she thought, to move on to another victim.

“Hassan,” Greta called up the stairs, his footsteps following behind her voice, “Please take care of her bandages, feed her and clean her.”

With that, Greta walked purposefully across the room, leaving Hassan to keep an eye on Olivia. Greta couldn't stop smiling as she looked at the helpless girl trapped in the stocks. Her hatred for everything Holly represented was instinctive and it was an amazing sight for the embittered German to watch that cunt being humiliated. When Holly heard the click of her heels on the floor, she looked up to see if Greta had anything in her hand that could cause her more pain. Her doe-like brown eyes quickly filled with tears, not only from the pain she was currently feeling, but also from the thought of the most likely horrific torture. Greta knew her innocent little slave's thoughts and tried her best to take advantage of her by directing a threatening and angry look at her. Greta walked slowly, putting the fear of God into Holly, and her utter helplessness only made the situation worse. Holly couldn't take her eyes off the approaching mistress because she didn't want to endure any unpleasant surprises. Greta knelt down, a look of false compassion on her face, her face inches from the helpless girl's tear-stained cheeks.

“How did he like the damn night?” Greta asked, with the same compassion as a mother talking to her child and caressing Holly’s face, “Did he keep coming?”

Greta waited, not sure if Holly understood that her mistress was expecting an answer. Instead, Holly looked directly into her tormentor's eyes, trying in vain to see anything that could appeal to the woman's humanity. As her mouth loosened, she considered a final plea for mercy for a moment, but quickly rejected it; She already knew that this woman had no mercy. In a daze, Holly could only stare blankly at the woman who had taken so much pleasure in tormenting her and was now talking to her as if she were nothing more than an animal.

CLAP!!!!

“Answer me, cunt!” Greta snapped, giving Holly a hard slap across her latex-covered cheeks. The sound and her high-pitched scream echoed through the room. “Did you like it?”

“Yes, madam,” he said. Holly said, coming to her senses and not daring to wait for another hard slap.

“Did his pussy get wet when he was fucked?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Did he keep coming?” Greta continued to maintain her condescending tone.

“Yes, my lady”;

“Then what does it say?” Or is it an ungrateful cunt?”

"Excuse me,Thank you madam."

"Better"; Greta said getting into shape as if she was about to get up and leave before acting like she had forgotten something and squatting down again, "Wait." Remind me, "Did I say we could finish?"

Holly's eyes widened at the question as she desperately tried to remember what exactly she had been told when they left her. She remembered how rude they had been had been put in her place and that Greta had said something about her being a "dirty whore". Who should have been rewarded? Did that mean she was allowed to cum? Not that she had a choice; if he was fucked for that long , any girl could achieve orgasm no matter how hard she struggled. Wouldn't Greta have expected that she wouldn't cum at all during the test?

“I…” - Holly stammered as she thought about this, desperately searching for words that would spare her any punishment for her insubordination: "I don't know..."remember, Mistress, I…”

The sound of latex slapping filled the room again and Holly screamed again. Greta twisted her face into a snarl and leaned closer to Holly's shiny black rubber face to continue her interrogation.

"No!" Greta shouted to Holly from just a few inches away, "It's not 'I', 'I'" or whatever his damn name used to be! This is a worthless cunt! So answer my question. I told you it could cum!?”

Holly knew she had no choice but to give in to Greta's ridiculous demands. She hadn't been given explicit permission, she was sure now, but she was also sure she had no choice but to come. She had forgotten that Greta wasn't concerned with what was fair or even physically possible. Instead, Holly realized, she would be making arbitrary rules that the girls would inevitably break, just so they could be punished for pleasing these sick bastards. Now knowing that no matter what she said, she would have to endure even more terrible pain, Holly steeled herself before answering.

“No, ma’am,” she said. - She murmured, trying to hold back her tears.

"No?" Greta asked with mock surprise, “But he said he was finished.” Many times. Did he forget that he has to ask permission before cumming?”

"But... Madam, this is..."

“Has he forgotten that he no longer controls his own body?”

“No, my lady. But...”

"So if he knew he wasn't given permission to cum, why did he cum so often?"

"Madam, it was impossible..."

"Is she such a slut that she can't control whether she cums or not?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, please, that wasn't..." Holly said, tears streaming down her black cheeks as she desperately tried to avoid the now inevitable punishment. She was killed by another brutal blow to the face that filled her black eyes with stars. Greta stood up and walked around the tied up girl, using the dizziness she caused to confuse her victim. She examined the back of her toy, looking at the puddle of pussy juice dripping onto the floor beneath the slut's battered cunt. As she examined Holly's body, Greta was pleased to find that her tits were slapping against the wooden block that held her head and arms, and hoped that this would make her large udders even more sore and sensitive. As Greta turned off the dildo responsible for Holly's forbidden orgasms, the phallus slowly stopped, half buried in her pretty pink cunt. Greta threw one leg over Holly's straight back and sat directly over the wooden block that supported her lower body. This position reinforced the idea that the girl was not human as she was now being ridden like an animal. Greta leaned forward slightly, reached under Holly's torso and greedily grabbed the hanging balls. Greta squeezed the mounds of soft flesh, pressing her cunt against Holly's back and feeling a shiver of pain run down her spine. She knew this slut's melons would be sensitive, but the reaction pleased her and she couldn't wait to punish those fat tits even more.

"That's right, cunt," Greta said, her fingers still massaging the supple flesh of Holly's tits, "since she can't be trusted to control herself, being a whore who can't control herself, can’t she be rewarded with additional stimulation.” What to do with your disobedience, cunt?

Greta almost immediately emphasized the need for a response by digging her nails into each breast, doing everything she could to avoid scratching the skin with her sharp claws. Holly wailed in pain but got out what she thought Greta wanted to hear.

“This must be punished, madam,” he said. She said through gritted teeth, not just because of the humiliating nature of what she had to say, but also becausefrom the burning pain that permeates every bruised breast.

"Say, 'This cunt needs to be punished, Mistress,'" Greta said, loosening her grip slightly as Holly obeyed her commands.

“This cunt needs to be punished, Mistress.”

“I agree, Tits,” he said. Greta said the name she had given the slut at the beginning had just come back to her, "but how can such selfish disobedience be punished by such a useless slut?"

“I…that's how it should be,…" Holly struggled to say anything. How should she choose her punishment? How could she decide which part of her body would suffer pain next? Not only could she not imagine that she would choose to suffer pain, she was also sure that anything she suggested would be rejected and result in further punishment. She couldn't win and with her body already wracked with pain, she was numb and didn't want to put herself through more suffering.

"Faster, cunt!" Greta said, digging her nails into those luscious mounds again, making Holly whine again, "Or does she not want to please her masters?"

“Yes, madam,” she said. Holly said quickly despite her pain, knowing that's exactly what Greta wanted to hear but she doesn't know how to punish her.

Holly thought this answer would reassure Greta as she accepted that it was her job to always please her masters. However, Holly was still too proud to fully please her evil mistress. Maybe she would have asked for the punishment to be chosen for her if she had said how worthless she was and that she wasn't worthy of choosing her own punishment. Maybe when she begged to have her breasts beaten with thin wooden rods, when she begged to have her pussy stretched with the most gigantic dildo, or when she begged to have all of her nails ripped out one by one while she played loudly Voice shouted that she had complied with your wish and avoided any surprises. But Holly couldn't do anything to ease her pain because Greta was having too much fun, even though her time with these wonderful girls was much shorter than she wanted. This happened with every new catch and unfortunately always seemed too short to me. Once she had them working for her, she would have very little time to play with them; By the time her clients were done with them, they would probably need a rest, and even if they were available, she would be busy with new toys. It was a shame, but it had to be this way if she was to maintain this rare bastion of debauchery at the high level she expected. But as she squeezed the fabulously soft flesh of Holly's suffering tits, she knew these would be especially hard to give up. Many had breasts as large, some even larger, but few were as symmetrical, round, strong or perfectly formed as this little English dog. She thought about keeping this toy for herself, but she needed it for a very special customer. Maybe later she will get this slave with the big tits. In the meantime, she extracted as much sadistic pleasure as she could from those mounds, mentally recording the screams and squeaks to replay in a quiet moment.

“It’s a shame, Tits,” he said. Greta said with a broad smile, roughly massaging the heavy balls in her hands, "If it had devised its own punishment, its generous mistress would have carried it out, even if it had been lenient." Even if he only asked his owner, tickling his toes is all I would do. But since she's a lazy, useless cunt, I have to decide the punishment. This is going to be uncomfortable, you asshole. But first we have to do something about these damn udders.”

With these words, Greta looked at Hassan, who had examined Olivia's mouth. Hassan obeyed in silence and shouted up the stairs, which the girls didn't understand. The barking of Turkish words echoed sharply through the room, followed shortly by the sound of footsteps as Mehmet entered, dressed simply in boxer shorts and carrying a small bag in his hands. Refrigerator box. Without saying anything to Hassan, he approached the sobbing girl and the cheering lady. As he placed the box next to Holly's body, his gaze focused on the dangling breasts clutching Greta's arms. He was certainly very lucky to have had those huge tits in his hands at least once, and he certainly had even more chances to squeeze those big tits and penetrate deep into her various holes.

Greta opened the small container that Mehmet had bought. A column of steam rose from it as the cold inside the box met the slightly warmer air in the basement. Mehmed walked over and handed his employer a pair of thin latex gloves. On a whim, the German reached out and flicked Holly's tits a few times, just to draw a littleThe girl shuddered and sat on her as if she were riding a horse. After putting it on, Greta reached into the misty contents and pulled out a large plastic syringe, frosted on the outside, with a long metal spike through which she could inject the cloudy liquid inside. Greta aimed the syringe at Holly's right breast and was about to push it in, but stopped. What was she thinking? How could she not panic the bitch by showing her the needle that would be stuck deep in her chest? With a wry smile, Greta swung her leg over the girl's back and walked forward again. She leaned down in the same position in which she had slapped Holly's cheeks moments before, and still smiling, she slowly brought the terrible syringe to Holly's eyeline. When Holly saw a mysterious liquid dripping from the syringe, she screamed and shook violently from side to side, causing all three of her tormentors to laugh as her writhing movements failed to loosen her bonds. Not knowing what was in it, Holly was more afraid of the syringe than the tools used to torture her. She forgot her previous uselessness and began to beg.

“Please, madam”; Holly cried desperately, tears streaming down her face, "Please don't hurt...use this thing...please take control of it...this cunt is begging..."

A familiar sound filled the room as Greta Holly hit hard again. The blow was so hard that Holly almost lost consciousness and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Even Greta was surprised by the force of the blow, although unlike Holly she was glad that it caused so much pain. In fact, there was genuine anger behind the slap, for she had had enough of the pathetic meowing that the tethered cow was apparently capable of. At least before she was silenced, she didn't have to listen to all the pathetic crap that those snooty English girls were always saying gave of themselves.

"Shut up, cunt," Greta said, her anger evident in her voice, "She never tells me what to do." It only demands what I tell it. Now he'd better keep quiet while I stick this in his chest."

With that, Greta moved the syringe, looking steadily into her captive's eyes, reached through the bars holding Holly in place, and slowly inserted the needle into the flesh of Holly's right breast, knowing full well that the thick syringe would cause discomfort, if not pain would. She buried herself to the hilt and squirted the liquid deep into the flesh of her tits. After emptying it, Greta took out the needle and handed it to Mehmet, never taking her eyes off the beautiful brown saucers in a shiny black case. Greta replaced the empty needle with a full one and repeated the process on Holly's other breast. Greta shook her toys again. It had nothing to do with what she had just done, but because she loved feeling those bouncing tits and how the shame of every caress, pinch or squeeze of her massive tits tormented the slave. She reluctantly squeezed each ball before standing up. Her vagina was now almost level with Holly's face, and her wetness made the teenager see how much Greta enjoyed hurting her.

“Sisya should be fed, watered and then punished,” she said. Greta said as she walked back across the room, "I'll come back later to play with it."

Greta returned to the table where Olivia was still lying. The bloody bandage was removed from the girl's pretty little mouth and a small plastic ring was inserted to hold it open so she couldn't speak and her tongue took longer to heal. It also made feeding easier for her: Hassan now placed the apparatus he was using back in the dark. Olivia's skin was shiny from the water he'd washed her with, and her wet blonde hair was slicked back and falling to the table. Next, Greta saw that the stubble around her pubic area had been shaved clean by Hassan's skilled hand. Olivia had been neglected while Greta preoccupied herself with her big-breasted friend, but that was about to change when she picked up a small bottle that Hassan had left on the table.

“Everything’s nice and clean, baby,” she said. Greta whispered and caressed the tied girl's stretched stomach: "Now let's get this pussy smelling nice and fresh."

As she did so, Greta pumped up the bottle to spray a fine mist onto the freshly shaved lips of Olivia's spread pussy. It took a few seconds, but when Greta grabbed the girl's head again, the reaction was worth it. The first sign of the spray's effect was Olivia's eyes almost widening in surprise and pain. Then there was a squeak. Despite having her tongue cut out, Olivia's high-pitched squeak filled the room as she furiously pulled at the straps securing her to the workbench. Her pelvis jerked up and down and her upper body writhed in pain as the acid spray burned painfully into her freshly shaved genitals. Mehmet iGreta enjoyed the sight of her writhing in vain in her bonds, her efforts failing to ease the excruciating pain coursing through her sensitive cunt. Olivia couldn't see what the spray had done and was sure her skin had burned. The pain was so intense that vivid images of flesh dissolving ran through her mind. Greta knew that wasn't true; She would not cause any permanent physical harm to any of her toys. Why would she ruin such a beautiful pussy? Instead, the only evidence of Olivia's excruciating pain was the slight redness of her groin, the fiendishly painful spurts that left no other mark, and her desperate screaming and unbearable struggles. Greta laughed loudly at her desperate movements, her beautiful breasts bouncing as she moved with all her might. With her legs and arms immobilized and her head tied down, Olivia could only rock her torso from side to side and lift her pelvis before her tight little butt fell back onto the hard wood. All of this was magically linked to the girl's beautiful features, twisted into a pained grimace.

"Why are you screaming?" Greta asked, still laughing, her voice full of mock disbelief, "I spray some scent on your pretty pussy and you act like I tortured you." What an ungrateful little slut you are!

Of course, both Greta and Hassan knew exactly why she was screaming. It was true that Greta had sprayed Olivia's vulva with scent to freshen it up after the exertions of the last few days. But the searing pain Olivia felt was greater than anything a man could experience when spraying aftershave on a cut. Greta added an irritant to the scent. It did not dissolve the skin like a strong acid, but it caused severe pain even on fresh, intact skin. But for the freshly shaved, abused and naturally sensitive Olivia, it was unbearable. Greta tirelessly stroked the sensitive skin with her gloved hands, knowing full well that this would only worsen Olivia's pain. In fact, to Greta's delight, her delicious screams became several decibels louder. Greta smiled expectantly, picked up the bottle again, placed her gloved hand directly over Olivia's already burning crotch and carefully sprayed the liquid onto just her gloved fingers. The glove was now dripping, Greta ran it over Olivia's stomach, covering more of her skin with the sour scent and spreading the liquid all over her stomach and sides. Although this skin was largely untouched, the irritant was so strong that it still stung, radiating pain from the pubic area to the torso, following the trail of the latex glove as it snaked higher and higher. Now with both hands on the girl's body, Greta rubbed her torturous fingers over the girl's ample breasts, squeezing the mound of flesh firmly, pushing it against her ribs, and lifting her slick fingers to Olivia's tits. As she applied the spray to the flexible orbs, she took special care to rub the tantalizing nectar into Olivia's proud nipples.

As the intense pain in her crotch subsided and the pain in her chest became less stabbing, Olivia's frantic efforts faded, knowing it would be impossible to escape the woman now squeezing her breasts. The lack of severe pain brought relief to Olivia, as it meant that her precious sex had not been damaged too much. But when Greta ran her hands again over Olivia's supple back to the freshly shaved area, the pain returned with a vengeance. Another scream filled the air as Olivia began to writhe madly again. But the mud-white hands of her tormentor presented a terrible surprise. The fingers were still covered in fluid and Greta slipped her middle finger between the lips of Olivia's tender slit. As she continued her descent, the German listened to the captive girl's high-pitched squeal and smiled as she pushed the tip of her middle finger into the hot passage of Olivia's vagina. Although Olivia couldn't believe it, the pain became worse than before. It was like she was on fire as Greta pushed her long, bony finger deeper into the hole. Her blows were so strong that the strong shackles binding her to the table began to creak, rubbing the skin on her wrists and ankles painfully. Greta didn't care. Instead, she moved the majority of her hand to both of Olivia's holes, her index finger joining her middle finger in Olivia's pussy, pushing it as deep into her as she could until she was buried to the knuckle, while her ring finger slid down. , along Olivia's crotch until it pressed against the tight and unpenetrated bud in the girl's ass. She raised her thumb to rub the liquid directly onto Olivia's erect clit and reached out to Greta's hand Pianist poking a tied up teen's virgin ass.

“AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! !!!!!!!!”

Olivia's squeal was almost supernatural, it was so loud and high pitched. Greta looked up to make sure the girl hadn't lost consciousness; In all her years she had never heard a scream like that. Maybe it was the ring gag, a newly extended tongue, a low pain threshold, or just a love of screaming, but Greta could hardly believe what she was hearing. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. When she heard beautiful babes like Olivia screaming in pain, she just couldn't understand why so few people had done what she had done. Greta strained every tendon in her arm so that all her fingers caused excruciating pain to the most sensitive part of Olivia's body. At this point the table was rocking under the force of Olivia's struggle and Greta leaned forward to push her fingers as deep into the schoolgirl as possible. With two fingers in her pussy and one in her ass, Olivia looked like a human puppet, and her violent, writhing movements made it appear as if her puppeteer was in the throes of a violent epilepsy attack. Olivia's newly cleansed body was sweating from the exertion, but the girl who was one of the strongest and best athletes in her school still did everything she could to free herself from her tormentor and give him some sort of blessed relief. Greta was amazed at the little girl's strength and never imagined that such a small figure could withstand such efforts and such a determined little dog. Furthermore, she even went so far as to say that she was impressed by the little cunt's will, expecting these three rich English girls to immediately turn around and submit, but even though she almost immediately broke the kinky will to resist and the pussy sobbing big tits weren't far behind, this bold blonde was more of a competitor. However, this did not disappoint Greta. Not in the slightest. It just meant that breaking this bitch would be even more fun. And if that hadn't happened by the time their clients arrived, they would have gotten an even better deal, playing with not just an obedient toy, but one that could withstand their heinous punishments.

“There’s a lot of fighting in this movie,” he said. - Greta said to Hassan and the stress of her own efforts was reflected on her face.

“We have to change that,” he said. He chuckled, enjoying what this would mean for both him and Olivia.

“Nice tight ass we can play with too,” she said. Greta continued, “Can you hear that, cunt? Your pretty ass will be torn to pieces very soon.”

The thought of Olivia's sweet little virgin bud painfully opening gave Greta an idea. Reluctantly, Greta pulled her ring finger out of its cozy home with a light pop, aligned it with Olivia's already stretched vagina and slowly inserted it. The slippery liquid coating her fingers helped the new intruder penetrate the still squirming girl's wet pussy, who barely noticed the fresh pain her overstretched pussy was causing her, instead of the searing pain of the scented stimulant. With firm pressure and strong resistance, Greta inserted her middle finger into the narrow passage up to the knuckle. Wasting no time, she lifted the little finger of her right hand and placed it at her entrance. She pushed three fingers out, creating a gap big enough for the tip of the last finger to slip through, but she knew that was all the cunt could handle at the moment. She hoped that the girl would be so free that Greta, in great pain of course, would be able to stick her fist in and fuck the slut with it. She knew how much pain she could cause as she rammed her knuckles into the woman's cervix. As much fun as it would be to stretch that pussy until she couldn't take it anymore, it would tear her apart and ruin her for future customers. There would be plenty of time for that since she wasn't planning on leaving her toys anywhere anytime soon. In fact, Greta imagined a time when both girls would be bent over with both hands buried in their young pussies. In the meantime, Greta has to content herself with fucking Olivia with her four fingers already inside her. Greta moved in and out easily and began to rock inside the girl's wet cunt.

Instead of enjoying this new feeling, Olivia writhed just as violently as before, desperately trying to escape the woman's clutches. Unlike the rest of her body, where the pain subsided as the fluid evaporated, her warm, moist holes retained the moisture and the pain still burned in the most sensitive areas. Added to this was the incredibly painful stretching of her vagina as her fingers ripped it open so hard that Olivia thought she was being torn in half. In recent years she has inserted many things into her vagina: cocks, fingers,Sex toys and even some vegetables. But Mehmet's huge cock was the biggest she had, and that was only about a day ago. Now she felt even more tense and the pain was unbearable. Luckily for Olivia, Greta decided she had stretched the girl enough for now; The couple she rescued Olivia for would love to play in a nice, tight hole. She removed her hand and smeared the liquid on the girl's lower half one last time, causing her even more pain, before she slapped Olivia's cunt hard and stood up.

"My goodness, Blondie." Greta was genuinely surprised and approached the still beating girl: "How mad you are." But don't worry baby, I'll beat it out of you soon. When I'm done, you'll be just as obedient as that proud, slutty whore up there and that pathetic cow over there. You will be a good little sex slave who only thinks about pleasing me. But unfortunately now I have to deal with tits. No need to panic, girl, I'll be back." With these words, Greta returned to where Mehmet and Holly were waiting.

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As Lucy looked at herself, she was completely stunned. She could hardly recognize herself. Her long, thin body, dripping with water, was covered with evidence of the difficult times she had endured. She ran her gaze over her body and thought about each time. Her brown nipples on her small, firm breasts were swollen and red. The tanned skin of her toned stomach was covered in red spots from rubbing against something hard. Her pussy was also slightly red between her legs. When Lucy turned around she saw that her bottom and thighs were covered in constant bumps and welts. Lucy looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. She couldn't believe what those three crazy people in the basement had done to her, or what they had forced her to do to her friends. But all that seemed to be long gone as she stood in front of the mirror, freshly washed and her whole body smelled pleasantly of jasmine. And her room wasn't luxurious, but it wasn't a dungeon either. There was a single bed in one corner, a toilet and sink in the other, and a mirror hanging on one wall that she was looking into. The lighting was soft, the furnishings minimal but not unpleasant, and the smell of the burning candles on the bedside table was more than tolerable. When Lucy looked back in the mirror, she saw what had happened to her hair and face. Dark black lines framed her brown eyes, making them appear even more sensual than usual. Her hair was pulled back into a tight but still damp ponytail. Her skin was covered in light foundation, her nearly flawless skin needed minimal help. Lucy knew she always looked good, but the work the Asian woman had done a few minutes ago was very impressive. As soon as she thought about it, the door opened.

As she led Lucy out of the first dark room, the woman who had accompanied her after the bath came in. Wearing the same long black cheongsam, she appeared to be a radiant picture of elegance and class. Once again her face showed no emotion as she entered, and her quick entry without a silent knock indicated that Lucy no longer had any privacy. In her hand she held a long blue dress, the silk of which shone in the soft light. She walked quickly towards Lucy and seemed to glide effortlessly across the floor. Without taking her eyes off Lucy, she stood a few inches away before handing her the clothes. Lucy happily accepted the soft material. It had been a few days since she had been covered, and although she was proud of her body, she wanted to regain at least a modicum of modesty.

"It's not proper for a high-class whore to be exposed all the time," the woman said as Lucy eagerly put on her sky blue dress. "Instead, she should point out her treasures, showing just enough flesh to seduce, and no more." Easy to hide perky breasts. The sides of the robe were pulled up, revealing Lucy's right leg on her thigh. The shoulders were stretched and the clothes hung easily on the girl's athletic body, which currently resembled a human mannequin. As Lucy looked in the mirror, she met her gaze with her dresser, but heard nothing of the beautiful but cold face that stared back. She didn't even notice that she was being called a slut, and the derogatory word was nothing compared to what she had already experienced.

“Come,” said the woman and turned away abruptly, “we still have a lot to show you.”

“Excuse me,” Lucy called after the woman, her voice hoarse as she hadn’t spoken for hours, “what’s your name?”

With an exasperated sigh, the woman stopped and prepared to answer. She turned around and looked at Lucy with that lookthreatened, which sends shivers down her spine. The woman returned with frightening calm and radiated integrity. She may have been only an inch taller, but she towered over the cowering Lucy, who was slumped in fear. Your answer was correct.

“My name,” her slightly accented voice said slowly and methodically, “doesn’t matter. Just like yours. What your name was before you arrived and who you were no longer matters. Now it just depends. Whatever you did before, you must forget it. This is your life now. You will be taught to use your body to please your masters and that is all you need. If you do it well, you will feel good; otherwise you will be punished severely. Now follow me, there is a lot to do.

Feeling like a scolded child, Lucy stood still, then, her shoulders slumped, she crept behind the woman, out the door and down the hall.

----------- ------------------------- ----------- --- ------------

While Olivia was still meowing, squirming and fidgeting around the table, Greta calmly walked over to Mehmet, who had just finished with Holly. The girl tied up in the same position must have heard Olivia's torture and knew she was coming, so Greta approached slowly to prolong the agony of anticipation. For their business and their sadistic nature, merely causing physical harm to the girls was not enough. Greta had to torture every facet of her being until there was nothing left of her former self. Seeing a proud and rebellious person transform into a docile and obedient shell was the greatest pleasure to her, and there was something about pretty young girls that made it even sweeter. Although she saw men the same way, Greta found no greater pleasure than tormenting a woman while she thought of nothing other than pleasing her. Then Greta can enjoy the results.

As she approached Holly, she noticed that despite what she had told Olivia, the girl was far from fully prepared. For now, she could answer when asked, as Greta expected, but only to avoid further punishment. The dog did not fully understand her situation and did not know that she would continue to be tortured while she still had a sense of self-worth; In Greta's experience, such a process would take many long and very pleasant months. As Greta looked at the latex-covered body, she had to smile because she looked so pathetic and helpless. Greta really enjoyed having such an arrogant slut with big tits completely at her mercy. The sight of girls like her running around like they owned the house made Greta burn with rage; They parade their ridiculous melons down the street, on the covers of magazines and newspapers and all over the internet, compressing them into giant cutouts. Every time she came across a decent sized pair, even one like Olivia's, Greta felt like she was torturing them all. And it felt so good. With a glance she sent Mehmet into the darkness before bowing again to the bound girl.

“After he has been fed and watered, is he ready for punishment?” - said Greta cheerfully.

“Yes, madam,” he said. Holly said without hesitation, her throat no longer as dry and her voice therefore less hoarse.

"Fine. Does he remember why he's being punished?

"For cumming, Mistress."

"Why is he being punished for cumming?"

"Because... I was told no."

"That cunt was told "She shouldn't cum," he said. Greta said impatiently, "Say it!"

"This cunt was told not to cum." he said. Greta said, looking up to see Mehmet returning from the darkness, "Now let's begin."

With these words, she nodded to Mehmet, who returned with various instruments in his hands. Holly couldn't see what was planned was, but that didn't matter; not that he wanted her consent before torturing her. As Mehmet placed something on the floor, Holly heard a throbbing sound and the tension of anticipating how much it would hurt her next time would be normal now, and the added fear of what was being injected into her chest tormented her. Although she tried not to think or speculate that it was some kind of antibiotic that prevented infection or a hormone that stopped her from getting pregnant, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was happening at any moment something terrible could happen. Maybe it was her imagination, but her chest felt... tingly. But no matter what happened, she had to concentrate because she knew that torment would come next.

Reaching through the sticks, Greta held Holly firmly in place, grabbing one of her pendulous breasts and squeezing the sensitive mound of flesh with characteristic roughness, but now she was almost groping, as if discovering something hidden within. Seemingly satisfied, Greta gave the tit the usual punishing slap and then repeated the same with the other tormented breast while looking up.abstract, concentrating on what she is doing, like a doctor during an examination. Long, bony fingers dug forcefully into Holly's chest, as if she were checking the ripeness of a melon at a greengrocer's. Greta beat her chest harder and moved her gloved hands to cup Holly's sweet, innocent face. The pain from the spray she had used on Olivia lessened over time.

“They’re almost done,” he said. - said Greta, knowing that her words would only confuse the girl even more. - Mehmet.

Suddenly Holly felt a sharp pain in her pussy. With her hands still clutching her face, Greta could only let out a muffled scream, but it didn't ease the pain. As she burst into tears, another sharp pain shot through her body. Not knowing what was causing it frightened Holly, and the inability to see what was happening to her most sensitive feminine area only made her fear worse. Since her upper body was tied to a wooden block, she could not escape Mehmet's actions and her attempts to escape were in vain. All she could do was look into the cold, unforgiving eyes of her sadistic captor.

Mehmet looked at the girl's pussy, which he had filled with cum just a few hours ago. Just remembering her riding on his cock, those big tits almost suffocating him, he could almost feel her vagina squeezing his cock tightly. Now things didn't look so tight anymore. She had already taken it inside her virgin cunt twice, no small feat for a cock his size. But the hours she spent watching the machine pound her pussy had revealed the delicate blossom of her sex. Such was the beauty of the young flesh that Mehmet knew that with time the girl's flexible labia would soon close. But now wasn't the right time for that. He attached two large alligator clips to her, their teeth digging cruelly into her sensitive lips. At each terminal was a thin, rubber-coated wire that led to two metal boxes the size of a car battery. If Holly could see it, she would know what would happen, but all she could feel was the pain of the biting teeth. With her outer lips now parted, Mehmet ran his finger over her inner pussy, feeling her tremble under his touch. His middle finger moved up the slit until he touched the nub of her clit. With a tenderness that belied his intentions, he massaged her gently, knowing her body would react contrary to her intentions.

The pain in Holly's crotch began to subside as the clamps attached to her labia soon reduced the blood supply to her sensitive vagina so that she now only felt a dull ache. This continued until she felt a finger slide along her sex and over the hood that contained her clitoris. The finger was very sensual, as if it had nothing to do with the man who had abused, raped and tortured her. Unlike the previous treatment, the light touch was almost pleasant, and if her body had not been in pain, she would certainly have enjoyed Mehmet's gentle massage of her sensitive clitoris. As the friction continued, Holly closed her eyes and tried to enjoy it, knowing that these brief moments of pleasure were rare. It was a feeling she thought no longer existed for her: a warming tingling sensation spread from her crotch and eventually filled her entire body. She had felt it on her hand many times while she lay in bed, and for a moment, despite all the suffering she had endured, she could imagine being there again. But even in that chamber of secrets, Holly couldn't imagine how quickly that pleasure would turn to pain. In an instant, the calming glow in her crotch turned into a cauldron of white-hot, searing pain, her hands stopped cupping her face, her eyes grew wide, and her screams echoed off the stone walls.

Mehmet grinned as the little crocodile's vicious teeth sank into the girl's swollen, throbbing clit. He massaged it until it stood proudly above her body, peeking out from beneath the hood with its usual dull anticipation. He had aroused many women in his time by often seeing the sight, but only recently had he used his abilities to harm those who gave him pleasure. And yet he definitely liked it, this slut's scream sounded like music to his ears. He wasn't always like this. As a child, he always tried to respect women, although of course his good looks meant he was constantly in demand. It wasn't until he arrived in Munich and made his way to that godforsaken bar where drunk sluts were crawling all over him that his taciturn attitude towards them, as well as his ability to attract them, first caught the attention of this strange woman. He remembered his first experience in this castle, when he saw a young woman's beautiful face contorted not with joy but with pain. It was a grotesque, disgusting sight. And yet he couldn't look away. He didn't sleep for days afterward, tossing and turning as images flashed through his mind. He thought about going to the authorities and telling them about the terrible things he had seen, but he actually knew something.will never be the same again. Not only could he not forget the girl's beautiful, pain-filled eyes, he wanted to see them again. In the pained cry of this new dog, he felt that he had found his true calling in life.

Holly had no such epiphany, just a scream of pain as her clitoris was brutally bitten by the biting metal of the clamp. This new torture surpassed the previous one, each new pain seemed to surpass the previous one. She fought back against this new attack, but even as she lashed out, she knew there was no escape. Despite her best efforts, the clamps that held her flesh remained motionless, and her grip seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. Holly's eyes looked into Greta's, no longer begging for the mercy she knew wouldn't be granted. The German woman stared back without any emotion other than a hint of joy at her prisoner's pain. It was still strange to Holly how anyone could enjoy the pain of another, especially an innocent teenager who had done nothing to him and whose whole life lay ahead of him. Something in the woman's life must have confused her because she couldn't believe that someone without deep motives could be so cruel. Then, through the pain, Holly felt another touch on her back, which now seemed painfully familiar. The pressure on the tight bud of her anus was positively warm and pulsating, the unmistakable touch of Mehmet's cock moving towards her to tempt her. She instinctively tensed her ass muscles before the feeling returned. She could not prevent her parachute from falling through, and attempting to do so would have resulted in further torture. Hesitantly and with a heavy heart, Holly relaxed as best she could and resigned herself to the inevitable.

Mehmet didn't need a second invitation as he confidently pushed his cock into her tight ass. Mehmet didn't care that Hasan had already raped this bitch. The second hole was just as tight as when he fucked her virgin cunt. As he slowly moved forward, the walls of her hole squeezed his cock tightly, intensifying the warm embrace. He was already using the girl's flowing juices to generously lubricate his cock, so he had no problem sliding in even further. His hands gripped her wide hips as he pulled himself deep inside her until he was pressed right against her hot, clothed latex. Buttocks. He stopped with his cock all the way inside, his hands roaming over her stomach and teasingly approaching her hanging breasts. He looked at Greta and made it clear that he was next to her and could begin the next phase.

Greta's eyes did not leave the bound girl's eyes, as she only perceived Mehmet's signs in her peripheral vision. Her long fingers reached behind Holly's back and grabbed the battery, dragging it along the floor to give her easier access to the controls. By placing it directly behind the wooden piston, Greta was ready to inflict even more pain on the poor girl. But first she had a few words of her choice.

“Is your pussy butt tight, Mehmet?” Greta asked, looking directly at Holly but seeming to ignore her.

"Like a glove"; Mehmed replied with a big smile on his face: “But it could have been stronger.”

“Does he want to please his master?” Greta asked Holly and it took a moment for the girl to realize that she was the intended target.

“Yes, madam,” he said. The answer came.

“Then we have to make his butt fit even better,” he said. - said Greta and flipped the switch on the battery.

Holly's scream would have woken up the whole of Munich if the room hadn't been soundproofed. Her entire body tensed as a strong current flowed through each clamp, the effect not of an electric shock but of actual pain. It felt like her pussy was on fire. Each clip carried its own current, burning through the thin but sensitive flesh it was piercing. And it had the desired effect: Holly tensed every muscle in her body, the smooth walls of her ass clenching violently around Mehmet's cock inside her, the pressure almost painful. He grinned as he tried in vain to push the plunger in and out. Then he leaned forward, his cock still deep inside her, until he was almost flat on her back. It didn't take a genius to figure out where his hands went. Like moths to a flame, his large hands grabbed the girl's huge tits and squeezed them just as hard as her ass squeezed his cock. If Holly could have screamed any more, she would have, but all her screams were swallowed up by the pain of the battery, which showed no signs of abating. She couldn't believe that despite the lack of painful attention, her breasts had become even more sensitive. As the vice-like Mehmet happily squeezed her tits, his cock penetrating deep into her ass and her cunt receiving a painful electric shock, Holly found herself in a world of pain. And the people around me really liked it.

“How is his ass now?” Greta asked as if she was servicing a machine and not torturing a person.

“It’s so tight I can’t fuck,” he said. Mehmet said and his smile implied thathe wasn't unhappy about it.

"Well, we wouldn't like that, tits?" Greta asked, knowing full well that she wouldn't get an answer. “He needs to loosen up his ass so he can get fucked properly.”

At the same time, Greta reduced the battery current. Holly's relief was small but noticeable: the sharp pain in her crotch had subsided enough for her ass to loosen its tight grip on Mehmet's cock. When he was finally able to move, he did so immediately, his hands digging into the flesh of her breasts with renewed vigor, twisting each ball furiously in his palms as he pulled his cock from her ass until only the head was inside. Holly realized too late what was about to happen, not that she could stop it. Mehmed pushed forward with all his might, shaking the wooden restraints as his thrusts slammed into her. As soon as he started, his tight ass blurred, slapping back and forth against the firm buttocks of the girl beneath him. Knowing that nothing would stop him and her own need for pain far from satisfied, she increased the intensity of the current again with her eyes closed and listened intently to the inevitable scream, this time with a roaring, almost hoarse effort, while Holly listened incomprehensibly screamed the sky again, her body froze in pain. The electricity burned through the clamps holding her pussy and Holly, who couldn't see, had no idea of ​​the damage. For all she knew, her lips and clitoris were literally burned. Overcome with panic and pain, all she could do was scream, scream as loud as her lungs would allow.

Greta allowed herself a quick look at Mehmet as he beat the girl. It was clearly far from finished, giving Greta more time to enjoy the exquisite sounds of her toy as she screamed. But things couldn't go on like this. The girl had suffered greatly and would continue to suffer, but there must be a period of time, however short, during which she could not be subjected to further torture. It wasn't fun to drive a girl crazy, at least not too quickly. But until Mehmet poured his seed into her, she didn't stop tormenting the helpless girl, because she never tired of hearing that scream. She leaned her head over the stocks and looked at Mehmet's hands, knowing she would be happy with the result. They didn't disappoint us. The punishment he inflicted on Holly's melons was what this slut deserved and the German smiled broadly at the rough treatment of those huge tits. It was a magnificent sight that Greta wanted to see again and again as long as the pussy was still usable.

Mehmet roared in pleasure as Holly's ass squeezed his throbbing cock tightly. He hadn't raped a girl before, and while that wasn't his only motivation, the unique grip of that tightest of holes was something to be enjoyed whenever the opportunity arose. The fact that she was resisting him only made it more pleasurable as he took her against his will and stretched his cock to sizes he never thought possible. When he was on the verge of release, he still didn't slow down to prolong his pleasure, but instead continued pounding Holly's battered ass in complete frenzy. Without giving the screaming slut a break, he leaned over and pulled on her heaving breasts once more in a final scream of pleasure, plunging deep inside her and tugging on her hanging tits as he contracted to climax. His cum shot deep into her bowels, his body twitched and her body was still stiff with pain. When the wave of pleasure subsided, he opened his eyes and looked at Greta, both of them smiling. Greta reluctantly turned off the battery, ending most of the pain burning in Holly's crotch. With equal reluctance, Mehmet released his iron grip on her breasts and pulled his softening member from her smooth bottom. It wasn't easy for him to remove the clamps that dug into her flesh, but he did: first the larger clamps clamped her lips and then, with a slight movement of her clitoris, the last ones. With his cock still dripping cum, Mehmet stood up and gave Holly one last spank before returning to the shadows with the device.

“His punishment is complete,” he said. Greta said, stroking Holly's cheek like a loving pet owner, "Will it ever disobey its owner again?"

“No, ma’am,” she said. Holly said, holding back tears of embarrassment, but also relieved that it was all over.

“Okay,” Greta replied before motioning for Mehmet to give her something. Holly clearly hadn't suffered enough at their hands in the last few hours as the German wanted to impose another penalty. Mehmet handed it to her, but Holly, with her head fixed, couldn't tell what it was. She soon achieved enlightenment. Greta showed two familiar objects: a thin needle and a gold ring, similar to the ones Holly saw when her nipples were pierced.

“Does he remember what they’re for?” Greta asked, ignoring Holly’s wide eyes and shaking of her head. — Since she got her big tits pierced?

“Yes, madam,” he said. Holly almost managed to get out, read moreTears welled up in her round brown eyes.

“Well, since he has such a big udder,” he said. Greta continued: "She should look more like the cow she is." His owner decided to put a ring through his nose so he could carry it with him. Is that a good idea, idiot?

Holly knew she had no choice but to agree and accept this final punishment, but she mentally paused, still in disbelief that someone who didn't know her had no reason to hate her and no reason had to torment her. Even stranger was the fact that she seemed largely motivated by Holly's large breasts. She never asked about it, quite the opposite. She never flaunted her assets but often covered them up and wore baggy clothes to hide her gorgeous pair. This angered all the younger boys in her school as they peeked through the windows of the sixth form common room, desperate to see her tits, only to be rewarded with nothing but a tempting bulge. In fact, Olivia, whose breasts looked so good on her petite body, showed off her breasts a lot more often, giving guys a chance to admire her cleavage. From the story of the girl who left the one-time comment, Holly realized that Greta might have been jealous of girls with big tits, but that wasn't the reason to torment her so much. But the consequences would have been serious if Holly had not praised her new mistress and therefore assumed the image of an obedient slave and obeyed.

“A very good idea, madam,” he said. Holly said, visibly surprising Greta by responding with more than just the usual "Yes, Mistress."

"Fine. Now stand still, otherwise it will look very messy and its owner will be dissatisfied. And remember: all he has to think about now is pleasing his masters."

With that, Greta pressed the needle against Holly's septum, while her other hand gripped Holly's chin tightly, obviously preparing herself to fight the pain. The girl closed her eyes as if this could somehow ease the pain that was about to come. Soon she felt the cold tip of the needle press against the sensitive spot, and in response she winced and gritted her teeth slightly. Holly felt even more pain as the needle pierced her skin, but decided not to show it, determined to give this woman as little pleasure as possible. Soon she felt the needle go straight through, and although her nose hurt a lot, it was less than before, as previous torture had accustomed her to things that before would have been pure torture. The needle was removed and quickly replaced with a ring. It was surprisingly heavy and Holly was worried it would tear her septum. But Greta knew what it would cost; She would never have made such a fundamental mistake. She looked at her work. Holly looked amazing, her black latex face with her nose ring made her the perfect fuck toy. And that was before her tits and pussy were shown. Satisfied, Greta slapped herself hard in the face and leaned forward slightly.

"That's all"; She whispered, "It's starting to look like a perfect little slave." What's written there?"

"Thank you very much, madam," she said. Holly said, the pain in her nose now easing.

"Beautiful cunt. Now it's time to use Blondie properly. Soon you both will understand that your job is to please your masters. Mehmet, hang him by his tits. Oh, I want him blindfolded and gagged too. I don't want to hear his pathetic noises while we're playing with someone else.

Greta stood there, her legs stiff and aching from squatting in front of Holly for so long, but she showed not the slightest hint of discomfort. She had to look absolutely powerful so these girls knew she was in charge. When she was here, her entire personality had to be carefully thought out and realized. Of course, she was often tempted to get carried away, often made things up on the fly, and often suffered from discomfort, usually from remaining in positions for long periods of time or spending time using the same muscles when spanking or spanking a girl . But she never showed it. To Holly and Olivia, she always seemed in control, all-powerful and merciless, and that was exactly what she wanted.

When Greta went to Olivia, Mehmet began to fix Holly in the desired position. First he decided to gag her and blindfold her so that she wouldn't distract Greta from what she was doing to Olivia. Walking to a chest in the shadows of the basement, he opened it and saw a pile of bondage equipment piled up like a snake's den, all black leather with silver buckles, blindfolds, gags and handcuffs, corsets, hoods and gloves. Mehmet rummaged around a bit, found what he was looking for, and returned with a gag similar to the one used when she was first taken to the dungeon and a leather blindfold with a buckle fastened tightly around her head could be tied back to Holly. He approached Holly from behind, straddling her back and leaning over the sticks.

“Open” He ordered and Holly quickly complied. She heard Gretaorder her to “hang her by her tits”; But even though she was afraid of how painful it would be, she couldn't stop it and obediently opened her mouth to allow him to insert the hard plastic ball. He pressed her head firmly against the wooden board and secured the gag by tightening the buckle underneath her. tail and repeat the process with the leather blindfold. When he was finished, Mehmet looked into the girl's face. Like Greta, he leaned in front of her and looked at the almost completely camouflaged face of the creature in front of him. Without those big brown, helpless eyes it was less of a sight, but with a face covered in black rubber and leather, he enjoyed seeing the girl dressed like the archetypal gimp. However, he had little time to admire her, knowing that Greta would be dissatisfied if he didn't work quickly, so he stood up and continued.

Although he knew she wouldn't resist even if she were free, he didn't want to risk partially immobilizing her in a new bond before removing the current one. Mehmet went to the control panel in the corner of the room and pressed a few buttons, causing a motor somewhere to hum and a dumbbell suspended on two chains to slowly rise an inch from the ceiling until it was level with his chest. right above Holly's stocking. . He bent down and picked up a thumb-thick piece of white rope and, with a skill that some sailors appreciate, tied the rope around the crossbar, leaving a long end, which he handed to Holly. With unceremonious disdain, he straddled her back and pushed her forcefully onto the wooden block that supported her lower body. With his usual speed, Mehmet guided the rope under Holly's torso, just below her breast, pulled it tight and lifted her towards him. Mehmet continued to pull the rope tight, making two sufficiently long loops at the end and pulling the rope back under Holly. After connecting the loops to each of Holly's huge breasts and wrapping the free end of the rope around his hand to keep the rope taut, he used his free hand to insert her left breast into the loop and pushed it down to the base . her fleshy mound until it grabbed her breasts. He then repeated the process with the other breast, squeezing each breast just lightly. However, this will soon change. While still wrapping the rope around his hand, he lowered both hands and slowly tightened the loop at the base of her left breast, leaning slightly to the side and watching as the rope tightened around her breast. At first there was no noticeable change, but as the rope tightened and cut off the blood flow, her breasts began to swell and change color. Mehmet tightened the noose further, watching with wistful delight as Holly's huge breasts turned from the pale brown of her natural complexion to an angry red as the blood pooled in her swollen chest. He repeated the process with her right breast, listening with delight to the gagged girl's muffled sobs as the pain began to burn in her tightly clenched chest. Although her perky, swollen tits could have been tied tighter, Mehmet knew she would be in some pain. Just as she should have been.

Mehmet fastened her to the crossbar from which she was soon suspended, and freed her from her previous bondage by loosening the tight leather strap that secured her to the wooden block. Although Holly felt that her lower body was no longer bound, she recognized the futility of the struggle and remained motionless as Mehmet walked around the sticks, holding her by the neck and wrists. He reversed some of the latches holding the two wooden halves in place, removed the top, and freed Holly's neck and arms. Pretty sure she wouldn't try anything, he disappeared briefly and returned with several large zip ties, binding Holly's wrists tightly behind her back with characteristic roughness, and with a second zip binding her elbows together, forcing her to bend slightly . and stick out her swollen tits. Finally, he removed the wooden block holding her lower body, causing her crotch to fall to the ground and almost suffocate her on the sticks. After securing everything, Mehmet walked to the control panel and began lifting the dumbbell.

Mehmet couldn't see Holly's latex-covered face, but he knew it would contort in pain as the winch slowly lifted the dumbbell into the air. The first thing she felt was a slight tug as the rope stretched above her and tightened around her torso, slowly but inexorably pulling her upwards. Holly was worried about the unknown that awaited her and struggled to stay in her current position. It was no use and soon her neck was pulled out of the bottom groove. With her hands tied behind her back, Holly couldn't stop rising, and even though she twisted from side to side, the rope around her body tightened, lifting her toward the ceiling. Her toes still touched the ground, but each time she was picked up, her bandages became tighter both around her torso and at the base of her chest. Mehmet raised the dumbbelluntil her delicate, latex-covered toes lifted off the ground and stopped to inspect the floating girl. Her slim, toned legs hung from the ceiling like a piece of meat, flailing desperately, much to his delight. But what really turned heads were Holly's plump melons. Although her entire weight was not supported by the bound balls, the ropes applied intense pressure, pulling her into a violent pool of red blood trapped within her impressive mounds, the tiny, pale nipple piercings standing out against the dark, swollen flesh. She hung helplessly from the ceiling, her legs and body twitching slightly as Mehmet looked her up and down. “What a pathetic little slut she is,” he thought; hung, blindfolded, gagged, violated, pierced. He moved closer and caressed her firm side, her body felt hot. As he looked at the girl dressed head to toe like a fetish club cripple, he knew her ordeal wasn't going to get any easier; not at all. Meanwhile, Greta walked towards Olivia and Hassan, who were waiting patiently.

“Hello again, baby”; Greta said warmly as her hand cupped Olivia's breast, "Let's see how this new tongue behaves."

Greta opened her mouth with the gag and effortlessly pulled out the writhing flesh of Olivia's tongue, testing how long it was and how well it was healing. Greta smiled at her work. She extended it enough that licking Greta's pussy was even more enjoyable, but not so much that the girl couldn't speak or that it flew out of her mouth. And the cut was so clean that it was almost healed. But not really, and Greta didn't want to risk opening the wound again. A small inconvenience, but good things come to those who wait. However, things didn't quite go according to plan and Greta wondered what other tortures she should try in the meantime. Even though Greta was in a lot of pain, she knew that she was easier to let go of than her big-breasted friend. Her mind ran through all the toys at her disposal, including a huge man with a huge cock.

“It’s working really, really well,” he said. Greta said, removing her fingers from Olivia's mouth while the other still squeezed the soft flesh of her breasts, "Soon you'll be able to lick pussy like a pro." First: Even though Hassan didn't have a chance to fuck you , that's hardly fair, is it? And your pretty ass hasn't been fucked yet. We don't want you to miss out on what your friends had, do we?

Without having to explain exactly what Greta was planning to do, Hasan moved with enthusiasm, fueled by the knowledge that his cock would soon be deep in the girl's ass. But after Olivia unbuckled the strap holding her right leg and released it for a moment, she showed that she still had a lot of fighting strength left by kicking her leg angrily. His strength surprised Hassan. Greta stepped back and grinned as Hassan struggled with her wobbly leg, holding it up with both muscular arms. Although she really enjoyed the fights that Olivia showed because it made them even more fun, Greta couldn't let the little slut fight for too long because she still had a lot of work to do. While Hassan struggled to control her, Greta disappeared into the shadows, something Olivia already knew. Olivia concentrated on shaking Hassan's grip off her leg, not realizing what Greta was doing until it was too late. As the drover's double tines pressed firmly against the baby's nipple, Greta waited a moment for Olivia to open her eyes and realize what was about to happen before she pulled the trigger.

As the current passed through the cattle prod into the tit's sensitive flesh, a high-pitched squeak filled the room and Olivia's entire body jumped, all her muscles tensing at once. Her leg extended so quickly that Hassan hadn't expected it, hitting him square in the jaw and nearly knocking him over. Greta couldn't stop laughing, a combination of her shaking body and Hassan clutching his face after a helpless girl hurt him. It was even funnier knowing that Hassan had been humiliated and would now be particularly cruel to Olivia, even if completely involuntarily. Although she momentarily lost face and accepted that she was actually human, she found the feisty little slut's suffering amusing. While Hassan pulled himself together and spit out the blood, Greta leaned forward and whispered in her ear:

“Stop struggling, little cunt,” he said. She said with a slight grin, "Now you exist to please us." If your master wants to move your legs, let him. You let him do whatever he wants with you and you will be grateful for it. And since you were such a naughty little whore and attacked him, you will be punished particularly harshly. Fucking bitch.”

After saying this, Greta stood up.and with all the drama of a religious ritual, he held the stick vertically above Olivia and pressed it against her nipple again, as if he were stabbing her in the breast. Greta looked into her eyes, swallowed her fear and pain, and pulled the trigger. The girl shuddered again and the loosened leg twitched violently again. As her spasms subsided, Hasan approached her with a look of anger and lust on his face and grabbed her leg. He placed her now flaccid member on his shoulder and bent her back until he met serious resistance as Olivia's lithe and athletic body struggled to bear the load. To get revenge on her, Hassan continued to push and Olivia cried out in pain as he forced her foot to touch the table near her ear. He could tell from her contorted face how much she was suffering, but after what she had done to him, she deserved everything she got. Leaning his entire body on his leg, Hassan bent down and grabbed another leather belt that was on the edge of the table. Still holding her leg with his body, he locked her in the new position before stepping back to watch. Judging by the inarticulate meows, narrowed eyes, and tears, the pain in his stretched groin must have been torture. Hassan added to her torment by rubbing his fingers up and down her spread pussy. Olivia winced involuntarily at his touch, increasing the pain. Her obscenely spread legs caused such pain that she was almost certain he had done irreparable damage.

“What a pretty pink pussy that is,” she said. Greta said as she placed the probe on the table and reached her bony fingers out to touch Olivia's cunt, "You look so attractive stretched out, you slut." Unfortunately, Hassan won't be able to get his cock deep in your ass to get stuck when you're like that.

Olivia was in so much pain that she could not accept her tormentor's mocking, condescending words. Luckily, her current position was not permanent, as staying in that position for any length of time would have caused the little toy more damage than Greta would have liked. Although she loved that tortured face and that beautiful body contorted in pain, she needed to adopt a more tolerant attitude. She looked at Hassan and nodded for him to continue. He reluctantly pulled back, inserted a finger into Olivia's pussy and walked around the table. Knowing that she would be too scared to fight again, he had no problem cutting off her other leg. The pressure on her groin meant that when her leg was freed, Olivia voluntarily raised it, doing some of Hassan's work for him. He did the rest properly, bending her leg and attaching it to the other end of the table. Olivia's lower body tilted upwards, lifting her tight ass into the air. Her legs are still spread wide and her cheeks are spread just enough to expose the curved ring of her virgin ass. Hasan took off his shorts, revealing his huge, throbbing erection and a small drop of precum at the end of his head, and quickly climbed onto the table, obsessed with the feeling of her ass wrapping around his cock. Standing on the wooden table, he reached forward and ran his hands over Olivia's butt as he admired the tight little slut's ass.

Before Greta hired him, he didn't particularly like these petite girls and preferred Lucy's elegant beauty. Therefore, while Mehmed was chatting with other girls, he was the first to see the black-haired seductress, whose high cheekbones and arrogant demeanor attracted him like a moth to a flame. If he hadn't been there to identify and capture potential victims, he would have done anything to seduce and fuck them. He was lucky that the object of his desire was part of the group they had kidnapped, because while the other two girls fit the bill perfectly, Lucy wasn't the kind of woman they usually targeted: she was overly confident, confident and street smart. . But she too was cheated, drugged and violated, just like the other two. Hassan's luck became even greater when she was selected for promotion. It's been a long time since the girl they "recruited" They sent me there, but Lucy was special. Whenever he used the goods there, he only saw women who had grown up in Third World huts, not rich English women. There they were treated differently, meaning she wasn't as broken as the other two sluts and he could still enjoy the pleasure of fucking a woman who was just as passionate about sex as he was. But he began to appreciate the charm of such a girl, the sweet neighbor girl who was so adored in the West. He particularly liked how quickly they submitted so submissively to his will, he enjoyed how much stronger he was than them and how sexually inexperienced and therefore pleasurable their bodies were. It didn't matter that this bitch showed more fight and was used more often than some of the other girls. He had a cute little blonde's virgin ass to stick his cock in, a price any man would pay big money for. WITHHe placed his hands on her hips, squatted slightly, and pressed his wet member against the inviting rosebud spread before him. He knew it would be painfully tight at first, and for a moment he thought about rubbing the girl's pussy to get her juices flowing and lubricating her ass and his cock, but decided against it. As much as it had hurt him the first few times, it would hurt her even more, and this knowledge would help him overcome his own pain. He spit on his hand and rubbed his cock just enough to really penetrate her, then looked up and waited for his sentence to begin.

The German woman knew Hassan wanted to start and she didn't blame him; In fact, she also lost patience because she couldn't use her new toy properly. But she kept him waiting for two reasons. One of them was her overwhelming desire for control. Although she worked with her employees, she didn't want them to take too much initiative or do anything without her explicit permission. She had done it too well and for too long to let an aspiring immigrant dictate what and when she should do with her slaves. Another reason was that she hadn't yet decided what else to do with Olivia. If Hassan had raped her it would have been extremely painful and humiliating, but at this point in the process she needed something more. She hadn't expected this, instead hoping that Olivia's tongue would heal and be used for its intended purpose, and the feeling of not being in complete control of everything was extremely frustrating. She tried not to show it so that the two Turks would see in her nothing other than the calm and collected personality that she had tried so hard to convey. With a practiced gait that hid her inner disappointment, Greta wandered through the dark corners of the room in search of inspiration. Their prison was so lit that those in the middle, their victims, could see no further, but one day, beyond the bright light, there was enough light to see a magnificent and terrible sight. Shelves of torture instruments hung on the walls; Whips, whips, shackles, handcuffs, dildos, etc. Everything you could imagine in a dungeon was there, attached to the wall or in boxes on the floor. Greta searched her mind for the perfect device that could inflict the required amount of pain or humiliation on the poor tied up girl. As she looked at the various objects, each time she remembered using them on a whore whose faces were contorted in pain as they endured Greta's wrath.

Hassan rubbed the tip of his cock against the crack of Olivia's cheek, her puffed hole just begging him to slide his massive cock inside her. His cock twitched in anticipation and he tried his best not to buck against the pretty slut. Greta was really angry and forced him to hover over the girl, unable to penetrate while she chose some sort of torture device. In truth, he didn't care if Greta hurt Olivia, he just wanted to feel the tight grip of her ass around his cock as quickly as possible. But it was all part of Greta's routine - to show that she was in complete control of both him and the girl. It was an obvious trick, and while it may have frightened the pathetic girls who bought them here, it had no effect on either him or Mehmet. But given the unholy joy he felt at her generosity, he owed a great debt to the woman who owned the property. It's annoying to have such a narrow hole in front of you and not be able to plow it, but the cost was worth it.

Greta could sense the disappointment emanating from the table, but it didn't bother her as she searched for the perfect companion to Hassan's abuse of Olivia. Although Olivia's new tongue couldn't bring Greta any pleasure, the sight of her slave's pained eyes would give her much pleasure. And now she knew she would be perfect for this spoiled little slut. The corner cupboard had exactly what she needed and Greta now relaxed; She took control of the situation again with a plan. With her characteristic walk, the leather-clad woman opened the cupboard and revealed a large candle, a small glass bottle of oil, matches and a small metal pan. Greta couldn't wait to get started, took the matches and lit the candle.

In the middle of the bright light, Olivia didn't know what Greta was doing in the corner. When the lights suddenly went out, Olivia panicked, not realizing that Greta had simply turned off the lights. In a state of heightened fear, she suddenly felt as if she had been blinded by these terrible people. She couldn't leave anything but these monsters considering how they had already treated her and her friends. But then she saw a faint light coming towards her, flickering like a flame and casting shadows on the ceiling above her. Still scared, Olivia winced as she felt a blow near her head and closed her eyes, waiting for a little relief from what was about to happen. She didn't dare open them, knowing from her position how Hassan's hands touched her thighs and the tip of his penis.presses against her virgin hole to be fucked in the ass, and Greta responds that this will involve disgusting torture. Your exams are about to begin.

“You can start, Hassan,” he said. Greta said, looking at the frightened girl carefully: “Start slowly.”

Hasan didn't need a second invitation. As soon as Greta finished speaking, he pressed the tip of his penis firmly against Olivia's sphincter. Not surprisingly, he faced great resistance; In this case there was a lot of fighting. But Hassan wasn't going to lose the fight with such a small cunt. As he pushed his cock further forward, he used his body weight to increase the pressure on her ass. With his right hand he caressed the outside of her thigh and cheek before forcing her down forcefully with a sickening slap that echoed through the room. He smiled as his large hand slapped her bottom hard again, and from her high-pitched squeak he knew it was causing a lot of pain. He hit her three more times with his right hand and twice with his left hand, all the while pressing hard on his penis. As he moved his left hand back down, he heard another noise and looked up to see Greta's hand resting on Olivia's already flushed cheek.

“Let it in your ass, Blondie,” he said. Greta whispered almost tenderly in Olivia's ear, "Remember that you only exist to please." Your master wants to fuck your virgin ass and you have no choice. So can you relax for your master, baby? Or, if you want, can you do it for me, your mistress?

Olivia's closed eyes caused tears to stream down her face. What did she do to deserve this? She always tried to be good and treat people the way she wanted to be treated, even people she didn't particularly like. The year before, she had even been polite to the creepy guy who had sent her those lewd photos. She rarely said a bad word about anyone, and yet here she was, tied to a table, ready to be anally raped while a sadistic woman prepared to torture her. Even though she had only been here for a few days, it felt like a lifetime had passed, and her life before the dungeon was just a mirage. And as if being at the mercy of these three wasn't enough, Greta's patronizing and seemingly loving tone only made the situation worse and only reminded them of their helpless situation. Talking to her like she was a child, a pet, or even someone caught up in all of this made Olivia feel like she was no longer human. She was determined to resist as hard as she could, but all she would gain was more pain and torture. So despite herself and with an almost overwhelming sense of shame, Olivia relaxed her rectum and reluctantly let Hassan inside her.

It wasn't much, but that instantaneous relaxation of Olivia's sphincter was enough to allow the tip of Hassan's cock to slide past the tight ring of muscle and into her hot and inviting breasts. Almost immediately, Olivia reflexively tightened her grip on his cock as if she could pull it out, but it was too late. This small intrusion into her soon expanded under his relentless pressure. But it was so tight that he almost doubted he would even fit in, although it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. He adjusted his legs on the table to get a better position, grabbed her legs and tried to penetrate her. He rose on his hands and pressed himself against her with his legs, then began moving deeper into her like a slow glacier. Olivia moaned as the massive intruder stretched her tight hole painfully, far beyond any engorgement she had ever experienced. It hurt him too, as her dry walls without lube caused a lot of painful friction, but the feeling of tension was worth it, and for him at least, the pain soon gave way to pleasure. Since his uncontrollable looks had already started, Greta decided to have a little fun.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. Greta whispered again, "Don't act like you don't like it, you little whore." Don't fight it; Just enjoy pleasing your master. Now open your eyes." The last sentence was interrupted by another hard slap from Olivia as Greta's other hand reached out and squeezed her breast. Reluctantly and with tears in her eyes, Olivia opened her eyes. She blinked back tears and looked at the man pushing his cock into her ass. He looked intimidating in the flickering candlelight, his face twisted into a twisted grin of lust. Above her, Greta looked down emotionlessly, not reacting at all as both moaned periodically in pain and, in Hassan's case, in pleasure. She kept her eyes on Olivia's beautiful face as Hassan, after spending almost three minutes, finally buried himself to the hilt in Olivia's ass. For a moment he simply enjoyed not moving enjoying the tight, warm grip of her ass around his throbbing cock. Greta leaned forward again, her sharp features looking even more intimidating in the flickering light.

“Now, girl”; Greta said as she removed her hand from Olivia's chest and reached for the bottle of oil she had brought to the table, "You are great at pleasing your master, but you do nothing for your mistress." You don't want that , or? What does your mistress like best?” Greta paused for a long time, as if she was waiting for Olivia’s answer. While she waited, she poured a small amount of oil into a metal pan and held it over the candle. “What I like most is watching my toys feel pain. And considering you live to please me, you're going to enjoy the pain, aren't you, slut?

Olivia knew she was in for some kind of torture, so Greta's words didn't shock her. In fact, her ass hurt so much that she could barely concentrate on anything else. Between the tears and the pain as Hassan slowly pulled his cock out of her ass and then plunged back in, Olivia couldn't think about what Greta was planning to do. That's why she didn't notice when Greta heated a small pan of oil just a few centimeters from her face. She was told to keep her eyes open, and she did so, watching as Hassan pulled his cock out until just the tip was inside her, pushed forward again with her accompanying squeal, and then repeated the process, Each time he pushed himself faster and faster, deeper. And now Olivia heard a hissing noise in her ear. Her eyes darted to see a candle with a pot hovering above it, just in time to see Greta pick up the sizzling metal plate and hold it right above her chest.

“I assure you, it’s going to hurt, baby,” she said. Greta said patronizingly, “But it won’t leave any lasting damage.” We don't want to ruin this beautiful skin right away, do we? With that she smiled at Olivia and knocked over the plate.

As the oil touched Olivia's soft skin, her scream echoed through the room. Partially anticipating the pain and the pain itself, Olivia howled loudly, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to protect herself from the searing heat. Her chest felt like it had been set on fire, and it demoralized her to feel like she would be forever covered in horrible burn scars. She found herself in a whirlwind of pain, the agonizing penetration of her anus coupled with the seething assault on her breasts. Greta turned it into a complete shitstorm by covering both breasts in burning oil, turning them bright red where it touched them but causing no lasting damage. Olivia didn't know that. Her entire existence became a sharp, searing pain in a searing ocean of friction as Hasan quickened his movements along her anal ring.

As Greta prepared to torture her upper body, Hassan began to move more easily toward her. The combination of his precum and the slight loosening of her walls allowed him to now penetrate deeper into her tight hole. He did so, his hands gripping her hips tighter as he leaned forward to get a better angle. Hasan was now fucking almost vertically and sped up even more, the vice-like grip of her virgin walls driving him crazy with desire and pleasure. Olivia's scream as the oil hit her breasts was another aphrodisiac, as was the shine it gave her perky breasts as Greta rubbed it on both breasts.

“Beautiful Scream”; Greta said, caressing Olivia's glistening mounds with both hands, "Now let's get those tits nice and oiled up before I add any more." And I want you to scream just like before. Can you do that for me, sweetie?

Olivia was too distracted to hear Greta's words. Even if she did, she wouldn't be able to answer the humiliating question as the pain she now felt blocked all thoughts. When Greta's hands stopped stroking her breasts, Olivia knew exactly where they were going and tried to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. This time Greta didn't hide anything from her victim and poured oil on the plate in front of her. As much as she hated to see it, Olivia knew that Greta wanted it and that it would be wise not to anger the floating monster. Greta moved the plate over the candle, put the bottle down, and with her free hand ran her long finger over one of Olivia's wet nipples. A few minutes passed of Hassan pounding in and out of Olivia until Greta heard the oil hiss and took it off the heat. She closed her eyes to enjoy the next phase and waited a while before dropping the oil again. With a wry smile, she listened joyfully to the painful scream beneath her. She could listen to screams like that until she died, especially if she caused them. As the crying turned to whimpering, Greta looked up and saw Hassan nearing his climax.

Olivia's final scream pushed Hassan over the edge. As the pain came, she tensed every muscle in her body, the walls of her ass clenching.it was so strong it almost hurt. He rose to her feet and arched her back even more painfully, plunging every inch of himself into her hole. As he looked at the shimmering red orbs bouncing lightly on her chest, he couldn't help himself. With an inarticulate roar, Hassan shook with pleasure, his cock quivering and filling her insides with a huge load of cum, his cock continuing to twitch inside her, each time squirting a thick glob of cum deep into her tight rectum. Even as he softened, he enjoyed the warmth of her ass rubbing against his cock. When the last of the cramps passed, he looked guiltily at Greta, noticing her annoyance that he had finished so quickly. It soon disappeared and Hassan hoped she would realize that Olivia's ass was so tight that it would last as long as possible. Greta waved him forward with a slight nod, and Hassan, with some reluctance, pulled his cock out of Olivia's now smooth bottom and waddled, his legs on either side of the girl, toward her head, a trail of white and red spots sliding across her stomach . . As he knelt on her chest, Greta placed her hands on either side of Olivia's head and leaned down again.

“Sorry, is your assfucking over?” Greta whispered menacingly, “I know sluts like you love this.” Now it's time to clean your master and use your new tongue. But don't worry, it will be easy. All you have to do is keep it out and let its owner clean themselves.”

Olivia didn't have time to do anything because as Greta finished, Hassan leaned forward and pushed his limp cock into her wide open mouth. She immediately tasted his salty cum as the tip of his cock slid over her tongue, flinching partly from the taste and partly because she knew where she was and tried as best she could to stop her tongue from poking Hassan. . But both the pain the tongue caused her and the restraints meant she couldn't.

“Show your tongue, bitch!” Greta screamed and hit the table: “Or I’ll cut it out!”

Having no other choice, Olivia stuck out her tongue. It hurt, but she could handle it, and it was definitely better than anything they would do if she didn't comply. So she persevered and discovered what Greta's little operation had accomplished. She opened her eyes for the first time since Hassan withdrew from her ass and saw his cock hanging out of her mouth like an elephant's trunk. From behind she could see her tongue creeping up long enough to touch the base of his cock. It was drawn out, not obscene, but enough to be noticeably different for the rest of his life. More tears filled her eyes as he rubbed his cock up and down her tongue.

Hassan moaned at the gentle touch of the slut's mouth on his cock, the sweet feeling making him twitch even though he had only just come. He stepped forward to bring his cock directly over her face, then leaned back and placed his weight on her breasts. As he moved his crotch up and down to clean his cock, his hands squeezed her slippery tits, knowing it would hurt. She couldn't do much with her tongue yet, so he started moving his cock, trying to wipe off every inch of dirt. He now cleaned himself up and looked at Greta, who nodded, signaling that his work was finished. He slowly released her breasts and rose from the table to the floor. Greta leaned over Olivia's face again and held the candle in her hand just a few centimeters from the girl's head.

“You did good, whore,” “ - she said, turning the candle in her hand, - soon you will learn to satisfy your mistress like a real whore. Now I'll leave you here so you can heal a little more. This hanging piece of meat doesn't need light, it doesn't deserve attention. But you're a good girl, so I wouldn't want to keep you in the dark. The only problem is that if I leave the candle on the table the wax drips and ruins it. So we have to find somewhere else to put it.” As she said this, Greta's fingers ran up her leg, up her cheeks and into her ass. Olivia knew immediately where this was going and struggled for a while, standing exhausted and useless. Greta handed the candle to Hassan, who began cutting the bottom into a cone with a knife, making sure Olivia could see what he was doing.

"Here's an idea!" Greta shouted with mock excitement, "We can use your newly emerged ass as a little candle holder." Don't you want your ass stuffed with something big and beautiful, slut? With that, Hassan took the candle, whose flame was still flickering, and thrust it with pleasure into Olivia's still weakened bottom. The narrowing of the candle made the task easier and, aided by her whimpers, he inserted the candle stub into her gaping hole. Hassan took a step back to admire his work and Greta, who still towered over him.Olivia's face looked up and saw a candle sticking out of the girl's ass.

“God, God, you look so beautiful. You really are a good little girl, aren't you? The perfect whore and now the perfect human candlestick. This red wax drips onto your beautiful pink pussy and gives it a beautiful look. I'll give you some rest for now, but I'll be back and we can get you to work. Sweet dreams". After kissing Olivia on the forehead, Greta went up the stairs, followed by Mehmet and Hassan. Behind, two tied girls remained alone with the flickering flame of a candle. And hot wax.

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In the sixth bar, Hanneman felt like he wanted to give up. It was well past two in the morning and he could barely think straight, his head was spinning from the alcohol. Looking behind the counter, he saw the staff preparing to clean up as the night came to an end. This was his last attempt of the evening and he wasn't particularly optimistic about the results. Like all the other places, he went to the bar and asked the staff if they had seen the girls. A combination of time and his disheveled appearance meant that the replies he received were unsurprisingly short and impatient, adding to his distress. He put the girl's photos back in his folder, which he hoped would be full of depressingly empty evidence. As he was about to leave the bar and go home, his attention was drawn to a lone man propping up the bar.

"Looking for those three English sluts?" he murmured, looking even less presentable than Hanneman.

“Yes, kidnapped girls,” he said. Hanneman replied, slightly annoyed at the way he had mentioned her, “Do you know something?”

“A bunch of stuck-up idiots from the look of them,” he said. He continued, "But great." I wouldn't mind playing with them a little, if you know what I mean?

"Did you see them the night they disappeared?" the detective asked, his interest piqued by the drunken man's obvious knowledge of his targets.

“Oh, I saw her, I was sitting over there in the booth. They were sitting with two Turks, all three of whom were very drunk. You, the English, can't handle your drink?"

“Turkish men?” Hanneman continued to push, buoyed by the fact that he could finally take the lead.

"Yes,"; - The old man laughed indistinctly, and as he spoke he began to have hiccups caused by drinking. - In any case, the brown ones look like Arabs. These whores were everywhere, they got drunk so quickly. One moment they were just sitting there teasing, and the next moment they were getting carried away."

“Did the Turks take them out?”

“Oh yeah, I think they’re going to blow their brains out. Little one, I'll tell you what...”

"Did you see where they went?" Hanneman interrupted, not wanting to hear what the old pervert wanted to do with the girls.

“Don’t worry, they just put the whores out on the streets. I've seen one of the guys here quite a bit. Come to think of it, I'm sure I've seen him work here before.

Hanneman turned to the bartender questioningly and asked if she knew anything about it. But the woman didn't want to help. It's not that she didn't care about the girls, quite the opposite. When she heard that three beautiful 18 year old girls were missing, she shuddered at what they had to go through because she knew there was only one reason why someone would take girls like that. She also didn't refuse to talk to him because she feared that the man who kidnapped her actually worked at the bar. She was just a student working in a bar to pay for her studies and had no ties to the establishment. The only reason she didn't help was because she didn't have time to talk to two middle-aged drunken perverts because the bar was closed. It didn't matter that she had a police ID because she had seen her fair share of failed cops drowning their sorrows. Instead, she looked at the detective with pity and rang the bell at the counter.

"Time!" - she shouted, watching as the last visitors stumbled towards the door. Hanneman stood there for a moment. He knew he was close, but his only lead was a drunk old man who didn't seem to care about the girls he was looking for, and if he wanted to find out who was behind it and save his career, he had to both get as much information as possible. from him as best I could. As the man struggled to his feet, Hanneman did the same, trying to hold himself together despite the amount he had drunk. Both men staggered towards the door, the barmaid running behind them and practically pushing them out. As Hanneman left the bar, he looked at the man swaying back and forth.

"I'd like to pick your brain, if that's okay?" Hanneman asked, although he wasn't sure if the man heard as he stood there looking down.Street.

“It’s time for me to go home,” he said. The drunk man replied, "But I'll be here at the same time tomorrow." You can buy me drinks all evening and I'll tell you everything I saw that evening."

“They have a deal,” he said. Hanneman said before both men walked off in opposite directions. He walked with a spring in his step, or so he thought, and the drink sent him stumbling across the sidewalk. But he had an advantage! He couldn't return to the station with that; The words of a drunken old man were hardly enough to revive his career. But that was the beginning. If he could just get more information, find out who these Turks were, and investigate, then maybe, just maybe, he could solve this case and give his pathetic excuse for life some semblance of meaning.

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After bathing and resting, Lucy no longer struggled after her guide, but followed her, albeit a little timidly. Just being reminded of her situation after asking the woman's name was a blow to her. Her terrible memories of the dungeon and even the horrors her friends still experienced faded. She was brought back to Earth with a bruise, leaving her refreshed and rested but emotionally exhausted. And the corridor seemed to go on forever, making her wonder how big this complex was and where it even was. The more she saw, the more difficult it became and her hope of escape diminished accordingly. She shook her head to clear the thought, trying to concentrate and look straight ahead into the dimly lit corridor.

When she reached the door, the woman pushed against part of the wall and the door slowly opened. Lucy entered silently, her guide following her, and the door slowly closed behind her. With a click, the room lit up and the opposite wall suddenly became transparent, presenting a sight that shocked and horrified her.

The wall was obviously a one-way mirror because people didn't respond to the lights being turned on. Even if they could, they would probably be too distracted to notice. Lucy watched with her mouth open. On one side was a woman wearing the same clothes as Lucy, with a few differences. Her robe was a bright blood red color, open all the way down, with a red corset with black trim that was pulled very tightly around her stomach. Her large breasts were clearly not real: they stuck out over her chest like two beach balls and her nipples were incredibly erect. She wore long, thigh-high red leather boots that flared at the top and reached just below the thick bush of black hair that hid her pussy. She appeared to be around thirty years old and had a slim build, although it was hard to tell from her vampire makeup. Three things immediately struck Lucy. Firstly, how pale the woman was, her blue veins clearly visible in the dim light of the room. The second was a shock of bright orange hair, obviously not her natural color, but so bright it was almost blinding. The third and most noticeable thing was the two meter long bamboo stick she was holding.

Opposite her stood an equally intimidating figure: a man with the same bamboo shaft, his entire body covered in tattoos. Only his head and hands were not covered in ink. Even on his erect penis was the grotesque image of a spear with blood dripping from the tip, and it was even tattooed on his foreskin. Vile and shocking images decorated his body, including a horrific image on his stomach that Lucy assumed was a devil that twisted and writhed with the man's every movement. His clothes were just as chic as the woman's. Two spiked leather belts crisscrossed his chest, with small rings around his pierced nipples. The two belts were connected to a leather jockstrap that went around his waist, and a small loop was pulled so tightly around his scrotum that it was swollen purple. He wore a thick leather necklace decorated with metal around his neck. In contrast to the woman's stony expression, a crooked grin plastered his face, his forked tongue lolling out and dancing with joy. Lucy gasped when she saw him; Even through the glass, this man frightened her.

The grotesque nature of this man was so grotesque that Lucy didn't immediately see the third person in the room. When she saw this, her heart sank. Two thick brown ropes hung from the ceiling, holding the girl up by one leg and one arm. Her face was the embodiment of suffering, so full of tears and contorted with pain that Lucy couldn't see her features clearly. But she saw her battered body, her tanned skin covered in long red welts, no doubt the result of the work of those evil bamboo sticks. Barely an inch went unnoticed, indicating a continuous barrage of sadistic blows. Her crotch was particularly red and her pussy lips went from dark brown to bright red and pulsating. Although her breasts hung horizontally across her chest due to their suspension, they were clearly large and perky, suggesting a girl in her early twenties. But they too were covered by countless stripes. A thin trickle of blood flowed down The girl's dangling leg and her attempts to avoid the scythe's blows apparently caused the shackles that bound her to rub her skin painfully. It was a scene from an extreme BDSM porn movie, but Lucy knew it wasn't actors and the aloof girl didn't agree.

As Lucy watched, the action continued. Behind the girl, the man raised a stick and then, with an animalistic roar, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted into a grotesque smile, smashed a thick bamboo cylinder directly between the girl's pulsating labia. A banshee-like scream filled Lucy's ears, completely drowning out the sound of the impact and the man's cackling laugh. When the scream stopped, the woman standing in front of the girl raised her staff and hit herself in the stomach with it. The force of the blow caused the girl to jerk in her bonds and let out another spine-tingling scream, which brought a small smile to the red-clad woman's face. As the man raised his staff again, Lucy turned to the woman behind her.

“Please,” Lucy begged with tears in her eyes, “don’t make me watch.”

“You have to be careful,” replied the woman, completely unmoved by the brutal beating, “because soon it will be you.”

Lucy's eyes widened. She couldn't believe what she had just been told. The woman said that she was chosen and would not be tortured or raped by men or women; Now she was told the opposite. If she were beaten like the girl in the cell, Lucy was sure she would either die or go crazy. Nothing she had experienced at the hands of the sadists in the dungeon had been as bad as what she was seeing now. Still looking pleading in her eyes, Lucy began to plead.

“No, please, you can’t allow that! I can not stand that! Please, I will do anything! Please..."

"Quiet!" The woman snapped, visibly irritated by Lucy's requests: "You will do as you are told. I said it was a job to please your masters. Your masters don't just want you to fuck. They can fuck any cheap whore here as easily as they want. They want you to fuck them. You will learn how to truly please a man or woman with your body. But your owners want more and that's why they chose you. You've already shown that you can do it by beating your friend. Soon you will help your masters when they torture girls. You will soon love it. Just like her.”

Lucy looked around the room as another blow landed on the girl's back. She was wrong. She shouldn't be a girl hanging from the ceiling. Instead, she looked at the woman in red and laughed at the tanned girl's pained squeak. She couldn't believe that the evil woman who had so brutally beaten a helpless and innocent girl was once just like her. Did they really expect Lucy to take pleasure in the suffering of others? How could a normal girl like her take pleasure in inflicting so much pain on someone? Then she remembered what she had already done. The way she slapped Holly's tits with the paddle while she fucked her. How she pushed her pussy against her friend's face just to cum. How she got carried away and almost came while watching Holly get fucked and double penetrated. Lucy's heart sank as she realized she was already halfway to becoming that woman. She was no longer the same person as when she was kidnapped. As Lucy watched the woman brutally slap the screaming girl's tits, she knew she was looking at her future.

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As Jeremiah entered the small passport office, he tried to look confident, but he didn't feel it. He knew that the second part of the journey could go wrong, with dire consequences for him. But with a broad smile, he nudged the woman in front of him and pushed her toward the stocky man at the table. When he arrived on his personal, chartered private jet, there were no crowds to weave through and no rowdy crowds to give him away. In fact, it was much less dangerous than when he left the States with his precious cargo, but he was still cautious. He watched nervously as the blonde handed her passport to the man behind the glass, who studied it carefully, glancing back and forth between the girl and the document many times. Without seeing her face, Jeremiah had no idea if she was secretly telling him something was wrong. His heart skipped a beat as the man looked at him over her shoulder, his beady little eyes behind his glasses seeming to be filled with great disbelief. When the man finally smiled and handed him back his passport, he was relieved. The girl carefully accepted the document and stepped aside, leaving Jeremiah next in line.

“Wait for me there, love”; he yelled in his Texas drawl, stopping her. It was a great flight, truly the best he ever had. It didn't start out that way. It wasn't easy getting around the airport. If he were to avoid the busiest part of the airport on a private jet, he could be attacked by many people at any time. He knew about the missing person caseA college girl had caught the attention of the entire country, and as he walked with the stunning blonde he had kidnapped, he was afraid that someone would recognize her. He made her wear a low cap to hide most of her face, but when she handed him the passport he was almost shaking with fear. Of course, he warned her about what would happen if she tried to reveal who she really was, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it if she did. Luckily she didn't know that and allowed it. Just fifteen minutes later they were on his plane; Jeremiah, Melissa and his bodyguard Tyrus have six hours to kill. Of course, they didn't waste much time. While Tyrus plied his employer with a strong drink, Jeremiah forced Melissa to undress, something she had done many times since his kidnapping. Knowing that he would punish her harshly if she didn't comply, the girl immediately removed the loose layer of clothing he had forced her to wear, revealing the skimpiest of vest and shorts combination. He quickly turned on some cheesy striptease music and she started twirling around, knowing he liked it when she moved like a smelly stripper. Of course, Jeremiah would not be without physical pain; the thin wooden stick he always carried on the plane often calmed her down. As her hands roamed over her young, athletic body, he laughed every time he spanked her. She squealed with each stroke but continued stoically, first lifting her tight top to expose her magnificent breasts, then removing her shorts and spreading her legs wide to display both of her tight holes. To the uninitiated, it seemed like she was enjoying it and seemed like she had completely broken down in just three weeks, but that wasn't the case. Instead, she was simply trying to avoid further punishment, her survival instinct hoping that if she pleased the man, she would be spared his wildest wrath.

When Tire returned, they were not kind to the girl, they slapped her bottom until it was red, pinched and twisted her nipples until they became more and more swollen, tied her up in various awkward positions, and pulled her hair so hard, that they almost ran away. He pulls it out and inserts all sorts of objects, including his cocks, into her various holes. Jeremiah's climax was suffocating on Tyre. huge black cock as he fucked her with a bottle of champagne, stretching her pussy wider than ever before. Sure, she screamed and screamed during the hours of abuse, but that didn't matter; The two pilots were well paid, to say the least. After violently attacking the poor girl for several hours, they decided to sleep, bending her body into a tight bow and leaving her in that state while they rested. Then, just minutes before landing, they pounced on her again, treating her just as roughly as before. Tire then held her while Jeremiah dressed her and prepared her for the journey. He towered over her, holding a pair of black shorts with two thick dildos protruding from the inside. Despite Melissa's difficulties, he eventually inserted it into both her ass and her pussy. After putting her on, he sat her down, took out the remote and turned it on. When the two dildos began to vibrate violently inside her, she immediately jumped as far as the seatbelt would allow. The two men laughed as she tried to run away, but she was under strict orders not to do so. Her first orgasm came at the perfect time: her knees buckled as soon as she got off the plane.

Of course, he turned it off as she approached passport control, but as she passed him, he reached into his pocket and turned it back on, smiling as he watched her tremble from the sudden vibration. He gained his reward through the difficult part of his journey, although the difficulties for them were just beginning. He confidently walked up to the counter and handed his passport to the person checking him. This time Jeremiah wasn't worried at all. With a forced smile that looked bad on his rubber face, the man returned the passport.

“All right, Mr. Johnson,” he said. - said the man in broken English with a strong German accent: - I hope that you and your daughter enjoy your stay in Germany.

“Oh, I plan on doing thatto.”

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