She’d been well brought up, gone to church regularly and sung in the choir, been head girl and always helped strangers who asked for directions. The latter has been her downfall. He’d taken her by surprise as she directed him to the local library, bundled her into the back of a car, and since then she’d been the plaything of these men.
Over and over her body had been taken, forced to submit to indignities of which she’d never dreamed. To her shame, her body had begun to betray her. She couldn’t help herself. Despite her morally upright, wholesome values, she’d soon responded willingly to the disgustingly depraved activities she was forced to perform, and submitting to their instruction - while terrifying initially - also felt horribly right.
Soon, despite the humiliation she felt being completely naked, with her legs spread open like any wanton whore, the attentive stimulation between her thighs felt so good she was begging for it to continue. When they told her to say “please fuck my cunt, please make me cum”, she parroted it back to her captors willingly, hardly flinching at the vulgarity. Despite the twinge of shame she felt, the hovering sense of degradation at being used like this, it also felt too good to want it to stop.