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Two days of continuous rape was something she could not even imagine, but, after so many abuses, her body simply got somehow used to it. Or maybe the pains and sufferings of her sexual enslavement were being surpassed, in her humiliated brain, by other stimuli, the primary ones, hunger, thirst. It was almost 72 hours since she’d eaten that small, stylish salad with Ginger Johnson in LA, the night before she’d had only two small sandwiches, and now she was hungry, desperately hungry. She tried to ask for something to eat to Wayne, and what she got was a large glob of cum in her mouth, with the words "That’s it, slut! Eat cum, that’s your dinner!" But then they realized that they’d really have to give her something to eat. It was no use having such a good piglet to play with and having her starve to death. Besides, they had to eat themselves anyway.
Wayne went with the car to a nearby McDonald’s, to take back some food. While he was away, Claudia was ‘cleaned’ with a water nozzle that was rudely shoved up her pussy to wash the dogs’ cum, and they let the water run a few minutes in her battered hole; the same was done in her asshole, like an enema, while her mouth was let to her, that had to wash it and her teeth, gargling carefully. She was happy to get a wash, even if this meant that they were planning another rape. Then, she could put a sort of supertight minishirt that covered only a part of her body, then she could sit with them and was handed her dinner.