[darkstalker]

Vivian stares at an empty space in the dark room, her body light with a sheen of sweat. Some of it hers and some of it having fallen from the bastard who fucked her. She squeezes her legs shut, rubbing them together, her vagina a pit of fire.
Caleb is quickly jerking at the ropes on her wrist, pulling the knots out. Though Vivian could perhaps use this to her advantage to escape, she doesn’t. Her body is too tired and sore. Her cunt is sore and abused, the rest of her simply ravaged and tired.
She cries sadly as her hair is jerked up. “Time to get up bitch,” says Caleb. “You’ve had plenty of time to sleep already!” He slaps her across the face once, feeling his erection coming up again as the Asian whore moans in pain.
“You’ve got a long day ahead of you, gook, so you’d better get started!”
He drags her down the hallways, through the rooms, just tying off his sash as the poor Asian struggles against his grasp, crying for him to not be so rough with her hair. Soon she is stumbling down the stairs, nearly tripping over herself as she comes down.
Caleb hurls her forward, making her fall the rest of the way down the marble stairs, her knees hitting hard against the solid floor, palms slapping painfully. She weeps quietly, her chest heaving.

Ahmed watches from the dining room table, leaning back against the counter in his own robe. Caleb is none too gentle with the woman but Ahmed doesn’t really care. He paid for her services. What he does doesn’t matter unless he breaks her too far.
And the look of her there, how her robe has fallen open, exposing her soft full breasts, still raw from the night before, globes hanging from her chest, nipples erect from fear. Her hair is plastered across her face, a light sheen of sweat before her. The look is priceless. Ahmed smiles and takes a sip from his still warm drink.
“It is good of you to join us Vivian. Did you enjoy your night’s festivities?”

Vivian raises her head slowly, a bitter rage curling her fist. Ahmed smiles. She still has some fight in her. Good. It is unfortunate when these women are broken in too easily. Setting the cup aside he picks another full glass filled with a thick pink liquid. He places it on the table next to a set of folded garments. A blouse, suit jacket, matching skirt, hose and black bra and panties matching what Vivian had worn the night before. After all, she needed to look presentable, at least at the beginning.
“Well,” he says. “I assume you must be hungry.”
Vivian stares from Ahmed to the glass of pink liquid. Her stomach rumbles in protest, indeed wishing for some sustenance. “With our “special” guest,” he says, “I give them protein drinks. Saves on time and energy and gives all the essential nutrition the body needs. Gets them to work quicker. But...”
He throws open his robe, his penis popping out erect, dimpled off color blotches marring its skin. “They still need to work for their food. Like all little whores.”
He stretches out his open hand to Vivian and smiles. “Come my little Asian whore, and drink from your master’s warm muscle before you drink from his cup.”
Vivian leans her head into her arms, sobbing. How can she have come down so low, to be degraded as this?
Ahmed sighs. Even after the video this one will still need to learn. But that is part of the fun after all. “Caleb, if you will, bring Vivian here so she may perform her duties.”
Caleb kicks her in the back, loving her moan and grips her hair, half dragging the screaming girl towards Ahmed. He presses Vivian’s face against Ahmed’s balls, rubbing her cheek against them. “You know what that is, you fucking gook! That’s your pay! Now get to work you bitch!”
And he throws Vivian forward, none too gently against Ahmed, who folds his arms with a grunt as her head bounces sharply against his swelling balls. “More careful next time, my friend,” he says. “More careful...”
“Now Vivian,” he says, parting the hair from her face so he can look on her wide eyes. “Be a dear and pleasure your master,” he says, slapping his dick against her forehead.
Tears stream down her cheeks. “Please....” she says. “Don’t do this! I haven’t done anything...”
Ahmed quickly plugs her nose, making her open her mouth wide to catch a breath of air, and jams his cock down into her throat. She gags instantly as he grips her hair, pulling it back while pressing her forward against him. He penis isn’t really that big or even that thick, about average for a man his age. But he is none too gentle or patient.
He presses her down all the way against his cock, her face plastered against his hips, nose filling with his pubic hairs. He holds her there, enjoying how she gags, slapping futilely at his hips. He winces as a sharp jab runs up his leg. Well maybe not so futile. He’s not as young as he once was. Still...
He holds her there for another few seconds then pulls away suddenly, letting Vivian gasp and suck in lung fulls of air, spit coming down as drool down her chin. Before she can breathe for long his cock is plunging into her open mouth once more, sinking deep into her throat. Again he holds her pressed against his hips for a few second then lets her pull away, gasping, only to ram his dirty cock back in between her soft lips. He repeats this several times, shortening how long she can breathe off his cock but lengthening the amount he holds her against him.
Though her slaps pain him more, those bulging eyes with her lips pressed lovingly around his muscle like a velvet glove keep him going. Soon he is pistoning her mouth, pumping quickly, pulling her head off his dick for only seconds before ramming his cock to the back of her throat with a sharp jabbing pain and pistons her once more.
Vivian can hardly breathe, Ahmed gives her no time to adjust to his length, which is average, but not so with his viciousness. The back of her throat stings badly and the walls of her cheeks burn as Ahmed slams his dick against them, pushing against the elastic flash to make them bulge out.
He ends up pushing her head back against a chair and fully humping her mouth, his hairs almost in line with her nose, keeping her from breathing at all, her skull being pounded against the hair walled chair while her throat goes raw. The chair creeks and thumps with Ahmed’s pounding.
Vivian slaps at his hips, but feels her arms growing weaker, the lack of air starting to affect her. The men around her laugh, chuckling.
“Didn’t know the old man had it in him!” she hears what sounds like Jackson say. She is not sure, and it does not seem to matter as her vision is starting to blur. Her arms fall to her sides, eyes closing as Ahmed continues to thrust away into her mouth. Then he cries out and pulls out of her, jerking her hair back, bringing her back from unconsciousness only to spray his load over her face and chin, sickly amounts sticking to her hair.
“Well that was a real gusher!” she hears Jackson say dimly. The clap of his hands sounds distant. Caleb says something as well but she can barely make it out as her mind begins to fade again. Then a sharp pain.
A slap across her face bringing her back. And another.
Ahmed doesn’t like these weak whores passing out as he is having his fun and he slaps her hard to bring his point across. “Wake up you filthy whore! It is not time to sleep. You have much work to do!”
“Ahn!” Vivian groans. Her arms come back up weakly as the man slaps her repeatedly. When he is sure she is awake he grips her scalp, jerking her hair and leans her across the table. She moans piteously, trying to push his hands away from her.
“If you even think of trying something like that again your punishment will be most severe Asian whore. Now drink your cup before it grows cold.”
He releases her, tossing her back to the floor where she falls, her robe spilling open, revealing her full breasts. She lies there, breathing heavily when one of the Russians comes over with his phone and snaps a shot. Vivian turns away from the flash and hears the click of a second and third. She lifts her arms to her face to block it from being seen, fairly certain it is already too late.
“Get up,” says the Russian, gripping her by her already pained locks, and pushes her against the table. She stares at the drink before her and lifts it in a trembling hand.
Ahmed easily removes the drink from her, wiping his cum stained hand across the rim and pushing semen in with the pink fluids. Vivian stares wide eyed, her body shaking. Ahmed leans close to her, with a finger wiping away what cum there is in her hair and on her face, and dips it in with a soft plop into the drink. The white fluid sinks into the pink mixture, sliding inside.
Ahmed pushes the drink towards her and nods. “Now... drink.”
Vivian shakes her head. Fear and sweat beading on her body. “N-no. I won’t do this!”
“Men?” he says.
Jackson is quick to respond, gripping her arms and pulling them tight behind her. Anton, still holding his phone, grips her nose, plugging her nostrils. Vivian struggles against the men, snorting but can do little as weak as she is from earlier exertions. Her mouth opens and shuts like a fish and Ahmed comes, drink in hand, lifting it towards her lips.
“Now.... you will drink, and you will swallow or you will choke on it.”
He begins pouring the contents of the drink into her mouth. At first Vivian resist, trying to spit it out, the pink froth spilling over her lips and over her chin onto her chest, but soon it is filling her mouth and she has little choice but to swallow or begin to choke. She swallows the noxious liquid quickly in gurgles, her throat gulping loudly. When she is done with the glass she feels Ahmed’s fingers on her face, cleaning off the sides of her cheeks and her chin of the liquid and wiping it on her tongue, sticking it back into her mouth. Then again for that which dribbled down her neck and splattered onto her chest.
She is forced to swallow every last bit before the Russian lets her nose go and Jackson releases her arms. She gasps, falling towards the table, her robe slipping from her shoulders, her large breasts fully exposed to the gawking crowd of men.
She can hear as Anton’s phone clicks, taking pictures of her degraded position. But she can barely make herself care. She simply rest for a moment, gathering her energies.
She hears a loud clap next to her face and jumps from the loudness of it. The man is Semen, who stares at her with narrowed eyes.
“Hurry it up, you filthy American cow,” he says. “We do not have all day!”
He rips the robe away from her shoulders, leaving her bare of anything save her skin.
“If you want to cover up,” says Ahmed, “you’d better put on the clothes I had Al’mar gather for you.
Vivian turns quickly, gathering the folded clothes and pressing them to her chest. Intending to find a private place to change she moves to her left and is blocked by Jackson. He folds his large arms across his chest, sucking his lips in. “Where do you think you’re going you fucking gook! Just put on the damned clothes already!”
“Bu-but a room?” Vivian asks desperately.
“You can change here ho! Now get going!” His hands clap loudly before her and Vivian hugs the bundle tighter to her chest, whimpering.
“I would suggest you hurry,” says Ahmed. “Unless you want the men to dress you themselves.”
This gets her moving. Quickly she is separating the clothes out and donning the black panties and bra. It is when she is putting these on that she realizes something is wrong. The panties bite at her crotch, digging in between her lips and the bra won’t close fully behind her, the material squeezing unnaturally at her well endowed bosom. “These are too small,” she whines.
“I know,” says Ahmed. “I wished to promote your figure more so I had Al’mar purposely gather you some clothing that was smaller.”
“But..” says Vivian when Jackson walks up behind her, gripping the ends of her bra and pulling her back, snapping the clasp in place, the wire biting painfully into her skin. Vivian cups her breasts, her mouth opening in a quiet “O” as feels her pained breast.
The man walks around her, slapping her breast by the side, making it jiggle. “Yeah, you cunt. Finish with the dressing.”
Vivian turns, finding the motion difficult, and dons the blouse, finding it a bit smaller then her other so she has to leave it partially open, the skirt tight around her hips as she places it on, barely shutting at the button, hem rising up almost to her pussy.
The only things that are not smaller then her actual size are the shoes and suit jacket, which fits her snugly. But the whole attire feels uncomfortable. A mockery of what she wore the night previous.
She can see Anton snapping photos of her cleavage and hips and places her hand slowly over her breasts in a vain attempt to cover herself.
“Well,” says Semen, clapping his hands together and getting up from the stairs. “We should get going. We have a long day ahead of us, and our whore needs to get acquainted with her new clients at the firm.”

******

also added an image i drew of what vivian looks like in my head. enjoy!