[darkstalker]

this one took me a bit to do, so i hope you enjoy.
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“AAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!” Clare shrieks, feeling the last of the air leave her lungs as the scream leaves her lips. The wood is twisted in her tender folds and she winces, tears streaming down her cheeks as the final sparks of the fire burn in her scarred skin.
The men around her laugh and the wood is withdrawn with a quick jerk, burning blood splashing on her cheeks. She breathes raggedly, each breath of air coming in a slow wheeze.
“Well look it that,” says the old man, smiling a toothy grin with a smile that bares gaps from missing teeth. “Seems the whore really enjoyed it!”
She turns away, sniffling. Her body is wet and sticky, the leather sticking close to her skin and feeling highly uncomfortable now. She can barely stand the look of them, how they leer down at her.
A boot slams down on her stomach and she coughs blood, feeling the heel grind in her stomach. “Think we should give the bitch a break boys?” says the old man. His boot is pressing down into her skin, pushing down into her flesh and she can feel her ribs starting to creak. “What you say girl?” he says. “Ready for some fun?”
“Go fuck yourself,” says Clare, her face turned away from them.
“Oh no,” says the man, “that’s what we have you here for.” And he begins to laugh. These men, Clare thinks. All of them, they’re monsters. They...
She hears the man’s pants jangling, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. “Well the bitch is wanting boys!” says the man. “She said to fuck so let’s get a fucking!”
“What?!” says Clare suddenly, turning with a quick jerk of her head, her eyes going wide seeing the grand phallus before her, its body black in shadow, but large and thick like her wrist. “Wait...” she says. “NO!”
The old man positions himself between her legs spreading her wide, her legs splitting painfully as her muscles twitch. She is screaming before the man has even penetrated her and his penetration is anything but gentle. The old man slams his body into her, his girth pushing fully into her bloodied hole and she screams loudly, tears welling in her eyes.
“Look at her,” chuckles one with an unshaven look. “Sounds like a stuck pig, she does!”
“Certainly squeals like one,” says the rat like visage of another.
But to Clare these images are blurred, her tears masking her sight as the pain in her hips ravages her body, the wet blood slapping against her hips as the old man slams into her with an ungodly large phallus that slams against the walls of her cervix with each blow.
She can feel the walls of her bloodied womb scrape against the lumpy form pushing into her, slamming back against her again and again. All she can do is scream and writhe beneath the old man’s grip, his nails biting down on her skin.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says, pushing her legs back down over her head. “Bet you’ve always wanted to be fucked this way after hacking the master’s servants down with your sword.”
What she wants to say is fuck you, the only thing that comes out though is an anguished cry. A scream mixed with horrified tears as pain rakes through her body, ripping her senses away from her. The blood at her loins flows down her hips, wetting the skirt more fully, the man’s thrusting becoming more violent as he pushes against her harder and harder.
“I’m just going to be the first you little slut!” he says, slamming against her repeatedly. “We’re all going to fuck off in your pussy. Make you howl at the moon!”
His words to her are unintelligible. All she can hear is a scream that seems to keep going. The beating against her loins increases in tempo, beating against her faster, until the man is jerking, his seed filling her. Clare continues to cry, feeling the wet heat from the man fill her loins. The sickly fluid is hot and cool at once, moistening her burned insides.
The man lowers her legs slowly to the floor sliding his phallus from her groin with a slick pop, his member shooting erect and full, its head shining with blood and fluid from her hips. He stands up walking around her and looks down on her, smiling. “Now that I’ve satisfied you some, you need to satisfy me,” he says in a thick accent.
Clare does not respond, feeling the fluid work on her loins and seep into the wounds, some mixture seeming to relieve the pain. A light drool comes away from parted lips and she barely notices as her head is lifted, lips pulled roughly and the phallus shoved in down to her throat. Only when it is pushing down into her thin neck where she can taste the slime and bile on it, her own blood coating the skin, does she wake up and begin to gag.
“Now don’t be like that,” says the old man. “Just want you to clean me up is all. Now get sucking you whore.” With this he begins to thrust rapidly in and out of Clare’s mouth. She gags on it, feeling all her secretions and more on the sickening thing, but unable to push it out as she gags trying to breathe, the member jamming itself down into the hollows of her throat. A mixture of puss and blood flow into her mouth as she gags on the man’s member, desperately trying to breathe.
“Haha, she’s doing good,” says the old man. “A real trooper!”
The old man watches the girl’s legs squirm, the blood still flowing freely from her pale skin and motions to another man. “Wanna’ go next?”
A large hulking figure jerks Clare’s legs wide, making her scream against the penis in her mouth, the sound coming out muffled. She hears the jingling of his own belt being unbuckled and feels something like a fat slug jamming itself into her sore vagina, its thick size painful as it thrust into her. Like the old man the large one is no less violent, thrusting savagely, beating her hips like dead meat. With the old man using her mouth they continue to thrust, Clare feeling herself violated from both ends.
The men above her laugh, pawing at her skin, running hands over her stomach and squeezing her breast through the leather fabric she wears. “Nice tits the bitch has,” says the old man, holding her head with one hand while gripping one of her breast with the other.
“Shame we can’t see them,” says the large one, a thick meaty hand on her other breast as he pistons himself in her body. Clare squeezes her eyes shut, shame filling her. When would these men be through with her?
“No reason why shouldn’t,” says the old man. What does he mean by that, thinks Clare but the answer soon becomes apparent as she can feels the old man’s nails dig into her breast, feeling as the fabric is pulled and hears as the fabric tears, jerked from her body with surprising force.
“Mmmmph!” she moans. The cold air slaps against her naked skin and she feels the old man trace a finger along the edges of her scar tissue.
“What have we here,” says the old man, tracing his finger lightly over her skin. “This wasn’t made by us.”
“Silver bitch is gonna’ wish it killed her,” says the other, his fat fingers digging under her leather frame and pulling, ripping away her garment from the other breast. Clare squirms against the old man, trying to fight back her disgust and revulsion. Her mouth and cunt are battered by both men and now her upper torso is exposed to their leering gazes. Never had she thought she would have to worry about such things with normal men. But these were far from normal, and their hands probed her flesh as hungrily as any human lusting after a woman. How she wishes now the scars would deter these men from further abusing her.
As if in response to that mental thought she feels the loins of both men pumping more fervently into her orifices, as if aroused by her abuse. Quicker they thrust, pushing in deeper and further, slapping against her skin faster until the old man is once again spilling his seed, but this time in Clare’s throat instead of her vaginal folds.
Her eyes widen, feeling the thick seed coat her mouth and clog her breathing, the cum spilling from her nose blocking her airways. The man holds her against the hairs of his ball sack, Clare’s face buried to the hilt on his penis, unable to squeeze her teeth shut to bite, simply choking. “Ahhhhhnnn....” the man moans happily, feeling her struggle.
He is holding her throat and head against him, barely letting her move. She barely notices when the fat man spills his seed into her body throwing her legs off and spraying the rest on her thighs. It is hot and sticky dribbling down her legs. “No reason to waste my seed on a whore like this,” the fat man says.
But she does not hear him, instead kicking at the dirt trying to will the old man to release her. And he does, painfully slow, only pulling inch by inch until at last his penis pops out slick with her saliva and Clare gasp violently for air. Spitting and coughing, hacking with the pain in her lungs, her ribs expanding and decompressing quickly, sucking in mouthfuls of air through the thick cum clogging her throat.
She feels him suddenly massaging her breasts, kneading the flesh, his nails raking the soft skin. “Guess you forgot about your pussy now without being able to breathe eh?”
“You rotten bastard,” she hisses. “When I...”
“Next!” the man bellows, completely ignoring her.
“Going to be my pleasure,” says the rat man, kneeling next to her, spreading her legs wide.
“No! Please! Don’t!” she screams, to little avail feeling the thin lanky man ram his cock into her just as roughly as the other two. She cries out, her wet vagina hardly lubricated enough with all its burns. And the man begins to pump into her, Clare sobbing with the pains she feels from both ends now.

Elsewhere the creature writhes, feeding off her pain and growing, healing itself. “Yessss...” it hisses. “Yes, hurt her more.... her pain... brings life.....sssss...”
Its tentacles twist in the air snapping up the taste of the fear and agonies riding on its currents and the creature feeds on the warrior’s agonies.

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