Sitting in the backseat, Catherine gazed at a passing pine forest through the tinted glass of a car. She clearly heard the breath of Karim and the driver, and from this she wanted to spit, cleanse herself from any traces of interaction with these two. “Interaction” - this is how she told herself about what had happened, trying to erase from memory the images of foreign members joining her in the throat and the vile feeling of urine flowing by the neck. Erase just as she erased many similar memories of her adolescence ... that is - not until the end.

Catherine did not think about what to do now - only about what she could have done differently before. This task, however, looked no less unsolvable. What were the options? Tell your husband about yourself right away? “Hi, my name is Katya, but they used to be called Lena, and I’m the daughter of the gangster about whom half a country about ten years ago was rattling - yes, they killed me then, too.” No matter the beginning of dating - this is putting it mildly. But then what? Say before the wedding? So, Andrei still wanted to go into big politics in those days - but where to go with such a wife? Already then it would be regarded as a betrayal. At what point did this become a betrayal? When when?

“Get out, Elena Petrovna,” Karim’s mocking voice intruded on her thoughts. - Here, however, will turn to you a little differently.

Yeah, she guessed.

The brick private house was suspended above it by its three floors, peering out from behind an iron fence. Grinding his key in the high gate, Karim threw it wide open, and, roughly grabbing Catherine by the arm, pulled him inside. Behind her, she heard the sound of a departing car - we agreed on everything without her.

Squeaking grievously, the door of the house slammed shut behind Karim and Catherine, cutting off that path to escape (“Although what kind of escape there is, have mercy” - she grinned at herself). In the spacious room opposite the window there was a wide sofa, and there were three men on it - muscular and skin-headed, with naked torsos. Their faces, it seemed to Catherine, were not too disfigured by their intellect. Karim sat in a chair next to him, and Catherine had nowhere to sit.

- Do you undress yourself or help? - threw her Karim.

- Not a cripple yet, I can handle it.

The beige coat went on a hanger, and Catherine remained in a skirt and blouse. She felt four gazes on her when her fingers ran along a row of buttons, spreading them out ... Under the blouse was a red lace bra supporting her rather big breast. A man with tattooed arms, sitting closest to Karim, covered his groin with his hand.

“Throw rags on the floor,” ordered Karim.

A soft skirt flew to the floor after the blouse; then Catherine took off her shoes and pulled off her pantyhose, remaining in front of four men in red underwear. A belated sense of shame crept into her thoughts, and she froze in confusion.

The man sitting in the middle of the couch got up and, going up to Catherine, took hold of her bra strap, pulled it off and let go. The woman gasped, and a soft red mark remained on her skin from the click.

- A bit old woman.

- Yes, she is normal, in my opinion, - the tattooed from the couch responded.

They talked about her like a thing, like a mare, and that was disgusting to her.

“These guys will fuck you up like the last whore,” Karim responded to her thoughts.

“I already guessed that we were not here to discuss high fashion,” Catherine smiled grimly.

- Hear, red-lip slut? I hired these guys. I had to pay them to agree to fuck you.

- I do not know why you called impotent, who have only loot, not women, but your work.

In response to this bold remark, standing next to Catherine, the jock weighed her a biting slap.

- So her, Max! - Karim laughed.

Max wound Catherine's hair into his fist and nuzzled her with his nose in his armpit, covered with thick black hair.

“Lick properly, you cheeky fuck,” he growled.

The taste and smell of someone else's sweat were disgusting to Catherine, but she licked diligently - and felt like a straining cock tucked into her thigh. “It would be better if I were impotent,” the woman thought wistfully.

“It's time to uncover those loose tits,” came the thick bass of the third of the jocks, a giant giant with a thin scar on his cheek.

In two steps, he was next to Catherine and roughly pulled her to him, pulling out from Max. One sharp movement tore her bra over her head. Another jerk - and red panties painfully dug into the skin, plaintively cracked and flew lace rag to the floor. Catherine instinctively reached out to cover her nakedness, but then the giant grabbed her by the throat and pressed her to her, letting her feel a strong erection. The woman tried to escape, but the hand squeezing her throat was supposedly forged out of steel - and here she was really scared. Wriggling with all her body, she wheezed the stifled "Please" and scraped the giant's chest with her fingers.

The iron grip did not open immediately, but it did. Catherine often breathed, greedily gasping for air - and immediately a savory spittle flew into her open mouth, and the giant's unkind fingers slid between her legs.

“Better not twitch whore,” he hissed, squeezing Catherine’s chest.

Fingers moved, then touching the clitoris, then gently squeezing the labia, then making his way further into the soft female vagina. Catherine was scared and disgusted, then her body refused to obey her, and downstairs she became treacherously wet. “It's just physics,” she persuaded herself, but she still could not help feeling ashamed of her physics.

- And the bitch wants to fuck her!

With these words, the giant threw her onto the couch with his head on the tattooed peasant - and, on the move, slammed his pants and rushed at her. His penis was proportional to the body, and when he drove this large object to Catherine from one blow to the very balls, she pulled it up.

“There is a better case for your mouth than a scream,” the tattooed man laughed, exposing his weapon, and poked his reddish head into her lips. Catherine obediently opened them, and, pushing the back of her head, the man planted it on herself.

Max went to the sofa and put Catherine's hand on his rearing sexual organ.

- Hand me off for now, bitch for three.

Meanwhile, on the stairs, there was a hurried knock of women's heels, and a girl with a tray fluttered into the room. She was wearing a small skirt and a blouse, her hair was blond and wavy, and she looked like a child, yesterday's schoolgirl, who by some ridiculous incident turned out to be among all this debauchery.

- Karim Rafikovich, wine? - Her clear, clear voice was heard.

- Yes, Alla, thank you.

Allochka poured Karim a full glass of red and for a moment she froze, as if in doubt.

- May I see, Karim Rafikovich? She finally asked in an extremely innocent voice.

- Ah-ah, such a nice girl - and wants to look at such things! Look, of course.

Then Allochka sat on the floor next to his chair, hands folded in her lap, and stared at the drama play that played out in front of her and Karim. The men switched places - now Catherine was lying on top of the tattooed and sucking on the giant with the scar, and Max, spitting in her anus, was getting ready to take her from behind. When his hefty Elda pushed through a narrow hole with effort, Catherine, without stopping the blowjob, groaned in pain.

- So to you, - groaned Max, entering deeper and squeezing the hips of the woman to the red marks.

Soon, Catherine began to feel that it was just some kind of dream, some unrealistic nightmare, from which she could not wake up. She is a decent woman, wife, mother! - could not even keep track of which men have it to where. Her whole body was sticky, everything hurt; there was squelch, and grunting, and groans — hers and men’sKareem was masturbating, looking at all this violence, and Allochka was sitting motionless, like a small elegant statue - but her eyes were worn thin and her breathing was a little lost.

Finally, the first jet of semen poured over Ekaterina’s face — the tattooed man had finished, holding her hair tightly and making a low growling moan. His thick sperm flooded Catherine with her eyes, forcing her to close her eyes; bitter drops slid into her mouth. She did not already see where someone felt only rough touches and heard wheezing; felt like a new seed pouring on her ravaged body ...

Exhausted, Catherine fell to the floor as soon as the men's hands let her go, used and no longer needed.

- Crawl to me! - Karim’s voice came from somewhere above and to the side.

“You don’t need to crawl, you don’t need anything, you need to fucking die and that's it,” Catherine flashed through her head, but a tangible kick under the ribs immediately saved her from such thoughts. No matter how tired she was, she could still feel pain, and, like any animal, did not want this pain. She crawled to the voice on the floor, clinging to sticky fingers and not opening her eyes. Blind kitten stuck in hard men's knees.

“Remember, Lena, it's all forever,” the boring and pompous words of Karim fluttered somewhere on the edge of consciousness. “You have always been a whore in the shower, and now this is all outside!” Nipple, whore for three males, disgrace feminine ...

Another jet of sperm hit her in the face and began to flow down her cheeks - like tears. “It is strange that I do not cry,” Catherine thought with some surprised indifference.

- Open her eyes, Alla.

Warm and seemingly gentle female fingers erased the mucus from her stuck together eyelids, but I didn’t want to open my eyes - the world around us wasn’t so good that I wanted to see it too! However, the new kick turned out to be quite a weighty argument, which convinced Catherine to take a look.

Karim was lounging in a chair and smiling. Catching Catherine's muddy look, he casually waved his hand up to the side of the shelf above his chair.

“There's a camera over there.” Good should have been a video, aren't you?

- Yeah, - only Catherine responded. Well, of course, the camera was supposed to be. It could not be.

- You have every chance of becoming a star. Maybe in this crazy modern world not everyone will be impressed by the history of your youth - oh, poor girl, they will say! - but it’s harder to regret this girl, isn't it? This married girl sucks three in turn without a twinge of conscience, and only champing and smacking of faces is worth it.

- Yeah.

- Do you want this video to be watched by your dear hubby voters?

- Not.

- That's fine ... But sometimes for the sake of this will have to do something, figure out how to.

- Yeah.

Finally, Karim was convinced of the senselessness of verbal mockery of the victim, unable to squeeze out more than one word in response - and, without saying goodbye, went to the second floor. It was followed by the rest of the torturers of Catherine - and she closed her eyes with relief. She didn’t know how many minutes she lay on the dirty floor, motionless and silent, when suddenly there came out of the rustling silence around her — softly and gently — her old, hated, alien name:

- Elena Petrovna ...

Having focused her eyesight with effort, Catherine saw Allochka's angelic face with pupils dilated with excitement above her.

- To help you ... Elena Petrovna? Will I help you clean up? - With a slight gasp, the girl asked in a slightly flirty voice.

She stood over Catherine fully dressed and completely out of place in this house - a depraved virgin, an innocent prostitute. She smelled of some good perfume, and she looked at the woman in front of her almost with admiration.

“Well, you work for them, Alla,” Catherine said quietly and wearily. - Go you, Alla, fuck.