[darkstalker]

Reinhardt watches, amused at the struggling woman beneath him, her body bucking violently as the men press the pin deeper into her lovely hole. He loves watching her sweat streaked breasts mash themselves against the hard floor, hearing the holler of her screams as he keeps his boot pressed down on her temple and more, how inch by inch, the head and then the neck of bowling pin begin to push down inside the girl’s guts, tearing apart her sphincter. He doubts she has ever taken anal, much less with something this size. Poor girl. Her hole will never be the same. Not that he cares... much.
“Push it in boys,” he says with a grin. “Make the whore feel it!”
The men grin, shouting crude remarks as they push the pin further in, twisting it and slapping at the base. The girl beneath him screams, howling her lungs out. He pays it no mind, it’s like music to his ears to hear her suffering like this.
No. While the hot Mexican sauce does make sliding the pin in a little easier, he doubts this comes as much if any comfort to the girl, who is screaming. No doubt her hips are burning horribly as the sauce burns her sensitive inner walls. When the pin finally goes in with a thunk, her anus sliding fluidly over the neck, he commands the men to stop.
“You feel that,” he says, kneeling down next to her head. “That tool wedged tight in your sphincter? That’s what you can cum on tonight whore!” Only tears and a light whimpering come from her.
He grips her hair, jerking her upright roughly and half drags, half pulls her across the floor, her legs kicking out blindly, the pin wobbling in her hips. Lifting her up next to a metal crate, he drops her, enjoying the howl that escapes her lips as some of the pin drives itself further into her guts. He grips her hair, hard, pulling her forward before she can fall back. “Now bitch,” he says. “This is how it’s going to work. We’re going to fuck your tits, your mouth, your pretty little braid and all the while you’re gonna’ fuck that little tool between your legs. You don’t stop. Not till’ we tell you to and you’d better be fucking it hard or else we’re going to do worse to you.”
“Please....” she begs, the tears streaming down her face.
“Do you understand!?” he yells, slapping her across the face. A small strand of blood escapes from where the lip has torn. She stares, wide eyed, lips quivering and when he shakes her head violently, she nods. “Good. Now start fucking and tell us how good it feels.”

Alicia stares, half mad with delirium. She’d felt as her sphincter got spread open, hearing it tear and then how that head started pushing into her, little by little, spreading her further as if she were giving birth to a child, but in reverse. The hot sauce had only made it worse.
The bastards. They’d put that stuff on purpose, just to burn her insides. She can still feel it burning, stinging, eating away at her wounds and open sores caused by the large object pushed violently into her body, and now she’s expected to fuck it? Fuck the tool lodged into her bowels while her hips scream and cry in agony? But what choice does she have?
“Start fucking whore,” the man says. “I want to hear your fat anus squelching against that lovely pin of ours!”
With tears streaming down her face, she lifts her body, only then realizing how perfectly lodged the pin is in her body. It comes down with a thunk as her hips come down, eliciting a cry from her lips.
“That won’t work at all,” says the man. “You two,” he growls, “tie the neck of that pin to the crate. I want to see this bitch gyrate on the thing!”
She simply stares incredulously, watching and feeling as the rough hands string a rope beneath her, the rope tightening just below her anus and the pin pulled taught as it is tied down to the crate. The men laugh after securing the horrible object and slap her ass. “Should be good now,” they chant.
“You heard them,” says the large man, “start pumping.”
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she complies. It hurts. Oh god, it hurts! Her bowels feel like they are stretching, ripping....
“Gah!” she moans, the veins bulging on her neck.
“She likes it,” a man hollers. She is met with a slap, cracking across her face, a hard hand suddenly gripping her scalp. “That’s a good start. Now start pumping, bitch. We know you love this.”
With bitter eyes she begins thrusting up and down on the pin. Her anus still pulls at it, gripping the head tightly, pulling it against the ropes, but the ropes hold it firm enough so she can feel it slipping out as she pulls up, but she comes down again, the pain excruciating each time. As she lifts up again slowly to lessen the pain the man’s hand suddenly goes down on her head, slamming her down on the pin’s head. She lets out a loud cry, the pain sudden as the head slams into her guts.
“Faster,” says the man, “lest you want me and my men to keep slamming you down on it.”
She moves faster now. Forcing herself despite the pain. Tears and a constant moan escape her lips, but she presses on, fearing what more the men can do to her if she doesn’t. She can feel the warm blood leaking down the device, pooling at her anus before dribbling down against the hard body of the pin. But she has no choice. She uses her own blood as lubrication, coming up and down on the pin quickly to avoid being slammed on it.
The man grips her braid, pulling her head back. “Keep going,” he says.
Shivering, she does so, pumping her body up and down.
“Looks like the bitch is cold boss,” says one man.
“Then let’s not keep her that way men. Bring the heat rub.”
She shakes her head, already hot and sweaty from the dancing and pain. She can’t endure more. “Please...” she begs.
“Don’t worry,” says the man, squeezing some of the fluid from the tube. “We’ll get you all warm and toasty soon enough.”
“No...” she whispers, watching him as he slaps his hands together, rubbing them quickly. He walks up behind her, dipping his hands under her tank top. “Don’t stop bitch. Never stop till’ we say so.”
His hands squeeze roughly at her tender tit flesh and she nods. “Good,” he says, slowly massaging and squeezing her breasts meat, slowly rubbing the cream onto her sore body. “Come on men. Join in. We want this bitch hot and ready when we start cumming on her.”
She sees the men surrounding her and shakes her head, the tears running down her cheeks. “Please...” she whispers. “Please stop...”

__

The men all gather around, surrounding her. Each squeezing from a tube that’s passed to them and picking up another when its emptied. They all paw and grip her. She moans piteously, begging them to stop or at least be more gentle. None of her words are heeded.
Men grab at her breasts underneath her top, squeezing and pulling. She can feel at least three different hands pawing at her tender flesh, pinching and rubbing the heat rub deep into her. They squeeze and pinch at the ends of her nipples, pulling them like the rest of her breasts so as to rub the heat lotion into the smallest of crevices on her buds. She cries and is rewarded with a slap.
“Stop crying bitch. We know you like it! And who told you to stop pumping? Get going unless you want worse!”
So even though the men are digging hard, calloused fingers into her body, she does so, pumping her body up and down the warm trickle of blood running down her anus. And the men don’t stop. Her shoulders, her back, neck, stomach, legs and ass... all of it is covered in the lotion, the men pawing and pushing hard fingers into her already hot and sweaty flesh. All the while she is forced to continue thrusting on that hard body while they violate her. It’s almost too much when one of them begins to rub the lotion onto her vaginal lips. Then another and a third even dips his fingers in, pulling at her tender folds. She yelps at these intrusions but it’s taken in by laughter from the men, they enjoying the spectacle. But most of all it’s her tit meat. This even for a second, is not ignored. She swears they have probably rubbed three or more tubes onto her tit flesh and continue to do so.
By the time the men are done her breasts are soaked, nipples hard and erect from fear, clearly visible against her red tank which works no more to conceal her body then a transparent clothe of a pinkish hue. Her body is sweating severely, taking a reddish tint from her exertions. All of her, wet and sticky. It only seems to turn the men on more as she can see several of them rubbing and stroking their thick cocks. She can only wonder how violent they’ll be when they actually choose to penetrate her.
“Alright,” says the aged man. “I think that’s enough for the set up. But we’ll warm her up a bit more before the main event.”
He goes towards the table of vile instruments and picks up a long segmented rod which he taps lightly on his palm. “Now,” he says. “For phase two...”

******