“This is our doorman,” her companion explained, and turning to the man in livery (later she was able to make sure that it was a real livery), he added quietly: “Tell us that we are here.”

The figure silently nodded and departed, stepping silently in a soft, bestial step.

The fat man pulled Vika somewhere sideways. Passing along a corridor hiding behind an inconspicuous door, they found themselves in a small room, which, as it was not difficult to guess, served as a medical office. Her companion turned out to be a doctor.

“I never thought that it would be possible to appear in front of a camera with a bare ass only after passing a medical examination,” Vicky snapped ironically, taking off her jacket. For some reason, with the fat man, she immediately felt completely free.

- You will live here for some time, drink, eat. And if you have syphilis? ..

Having carefully examined Vika, he slapped her ass.

- All hockey. Now let's go to Bob: By the way, if it's not a secret, where did he pick you up?

- Not a secret. In the Museum of Fine Arts: There was one exhibition there.

- Intellectual acquaintance means? ..

Veronica deliberately yawned and reached for her panties. Fatly admiring her body fat man winced, but said nothing.

Coming out of the office, they went up to the third floor and knocked on some door, behind which wild explosions of laughter were heard. The laughter fell silent, the door opened, and Vika found herself in a stuffy, smoky room. Here Bob and two more unfamiliar men waited for her. They were all pretty tipsy.

- Well, like a cunt? - grinned Bob. - Fine?

He spoke, despite his Caucasian appearance, almost without an accent.

- All hockey.

“Fine, fine,” Bob glanced at Vika with a greasy gaze, then got up, walked over to her. For some time he silently studied her point-blank. He looked into his eyes, straightened his hair, felt his chest. It remains only to check the teeth. Veronica introduced how his hairy paws crawling in her mouth. Br-r.

But Bob was not interested in teeth. Feeling the hips and abdomen, he climbed up to Vika under her skirt and began to squeeze the girl between her legs.

- What are you doing?! ... What are you doing! - scared whispered Vick.

But Bob spat on all her lamentations and confidently continued his. Veronica bit her lip. Everything turned out much worse than she thought. To hell with the money. Now she just wanted to get away from here quickly.

“That's what, baby,” Bob suddenly changed his tone. “Tell us a little about yourself.” Biography so to speak. We still hire you, ”he grinned. - So, your name is Veronica, right?

- Yes.

- Well, what is your last name? - Bob folded his arms over Napoleon. “And be so kind,” there were metallic notes in his voice, “speak louder.”

- Why do you need my last name? Vicki’s voice was trembling noticeably.

“Well, baby, this is no good,” Bob sang again in a gentle, gentle voice. - The questions I ask here. - And, turning to one of the guys, nodded. - Give me her handbag.

Veronica instinctively pressed her handbag to her, but the guy jerked it so that she left in her hands only a “meat” torn strap.

Bob opened his handbag, rummaged in it and took out a passport.

“Veronika Loznyak, born in 1965, is Russian,” he read in a singing tone. - It is registered at the address: Moscow, Shcherbakovskaya Street: well, and so on, - he put the passport in the drawer. - Yasnenko. You see how simple it all is, and you were afraid: Well, now take off your clothes.

“Give me your passport,” Vika said plaintively.

- No, baby, your passport will lie down while here. And do not make me repeat twice, I do not like it.

Veronica dutifully took off her jacket. Then she got rid of the blouse and began to unbutton her bra.After some time, he followed his jacket and blouse, and his breasts splashed to freedom began to sway in the rhythm of a slow tango. At this time, continuing to rummage in her purse, Bob fished out her student body.

- Do you study at MSU?

“Yes,” it was pointless to hide now.

- Clearly, clear. And which department? - Bob looked at her inquisitively and, noticing that she lingered with shoes, added with a mockery: - I hope my questions will not prevent you from undressing further.

- Art History. - Dropping her shoes, Vick began to skirt.

- Art critic? - The guys looked at each other. - Well, it is piquant doubly.

Taking off her skirt, Vika remained in pink transparent tights and openwork bikini-shorts. She started for them, but Bob unexpectedly stopped her.

- Enough, enough.

Veronica tore her eyes off the floor and looked at Bob. He got up from his seat, his Caucasian, slightly sheep eyes were bloodshot, his mouth was half-open. He approached her. Sweaty palms patted her breasts, walked through the slim camp and legs pulled into pantyhose. Then they slid a little higher and, climbing under the panties, began to paw the girl eagerly.

Stuck into the panties from the sides, Bob struggled to pull them up. Slowly, with gusto. Openwork fabric stretched, cracked, but Bob did not weaken the grip. Panty strapped into a harness dug Veronica between her legs, entered her pussy, cutting it in half. Finally, when the pain was already unbearable, there was a crash of tearing material: Two strokes with a penknife and a rubber band was cut, still holding the panties in some way. Rustling between the legs of their mistress, they were in the hairy paws of Bob. The gazes of men, as if by magic, stared at the dark triangle of hair, teasing them until then from under the bikini. And bitter tears of powerlessness, pain and humiliation rolled uncontrollably down Vika’s cheeks.

She was thrown on the table. Having received several good slaps in the face, she did not try to resist. The panty hoses were still on her, and she, trying, according to Bob’s instructions, to make a hole between her legs, with despair of the doomed, scratched, pulling the elastic material to the sides. The eyes of men stung her chest, thighs, stomach. Butts not removed from the table, bread crumbs, seeds husks unpleasantly pricked the bare back, eats into the skin: Finally, she managed to hook the seam with her nails and make a small hole, which was not difficult to expand.

Carnivore glancing at the girlish body stretched before him, Bob climbed onto the table and unzipped his pants. Vicki caught her breath. No longer able to observe all these preparations, she closed her eyes. The very expectation of humiliation turned into no less humiliation.

Having penetrated the bottom of her abdomen, the male member rested against the outer lips of the pussy, and then gave a groan inside. Vika squeezed her eyes tighter and bit her lip. There was a tense silence in the room, broken only by the dimensional creaking of the table and the quacking of Bob. Seconds stretched unbearably slowly: Finally, Bob froze and, somehow lowering, rolled down from her. After him were his buddies, first one, then the second. The first, before climbing up on the table, leisurely put out a burning cigarette on her thigh. Burning through her pantyhose, she left a scarlet spot on the white skin. Veronica screamed from the unbearable pain, but for some reason this cheered up the peasants, and everyone loudly roared: The last was a fat man, and Bob completed the roundabout again.

Vika lay still, without opening her eyes. Her whole body seemed to be smeared with thick black mud from head to foot. She was disgusted with herself. Disgust and shame unbearably pressed on the temples, filling them with a dull, formless pain.

“Get up, come,” came from far away. In the first ... Read more →