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"Hey, bro, why don’t you bind her ankles again? The whore could escape, now." The voice of the enormous brute, the Chief of the gang, boomed: "No, she won’t. She’s all fucked up, you see? This one will go nowhere now, I tell you". "Maybe you’re right, but if she turns and run? You know we’re all working now, and the Interstate is just a few feet from the front gate, and we have to keep that open." "Who cares? If she tries to get through the garage, we’ve got our two bros that are there dismantling that Caddy, no? So she couldn’t pass, and the front door is locked. No way." When they exited the door, she heard one last phrase "No, she won’t be able to get away from the garage. Be sure, we’ll have a few days more to have fun with her."
Slowly, she tried to understand her condition. The bed was very big, all covered, now, with stains of blood and sperm leaking from her cunt and asshole. She felt a wreck; all her genital zone was numb from pain. Her body was covered in scratches and bruises, but all little enough to mend quickly; so she tried to move her legs, slowly, surprised that she was really free. Her ankles were, at least; her wrists were solidly bound together behind her back. And there was nothing she could for it, the duct tape being too strong for any effort to free herself.