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The new guys thought capturing a woman to rape was "fuckin' rockin'! Right fuckin' on!" And somebody grabbed her ass. They begged to see her, but Ferrari, who seemed like a bit of a leader, told them to wait until they got back to camp. This took all of a minute before she was lifted out and stood on a small boulder, surrounded by seven lust-eyed men who pawed and discussed her body in the most disgusting, demeaning terms, as if she were not there. She closed her eyes, and gritted her teeth, helpless to stop them. But neither could she stop herself from crying in her utter humiliation, her tears flowing freely from her screwed-shut eyes. Every woman knows that men objectify them, but never, never had Liane felt so thoroughly like a piece of meat. Not a person. Not even an animal. Just a thing. A thing that was made to be ogled, played with, and fucked. She thought, as she would often during her coming ordeal, that her entire life had been a lie. She had always thought herself the equal of men, and before that, boys. Now, standing on a rock surrounded by men who were free of society's constraint, she realized that in truth, they only thought of her as "fuck-meat". That's what one of them called her, and it stuck in her brain. Fuck-meat. Honours in high school, a BA in history, and for what? So she could be well-educated fuck-meat. Smart, stupid, happy, sad, horny, fearful, dead, alive, or tearfully humiliated, they really did not care, so long as she had large breasts and three holes.