Chapter 1

Victoria. 12 years before the above events

I wanted to disappear. Dissolve, so as not to succumb to the power of panic horror, which turned the body into a weak-willed, devoid of strength shell. I closed my eyes, closed my eyes to pain, bit my lips so as not to howl. But it was not possible to escape to his imaginary world even for a second.

Sobs of friends in misfortune, groans, sobs, selective curses broke through an unstable blockade of shock and rejection. There were about fifteen of them - young, frightened, cowering on the concrete floor of the bunker. I was afraid to look into the eyes of each of them, knowing full well that I would see in them a reflection of my own gaze: hunted, lost, full of horror before the unknown. And the fact that it was not worth waiting for good, each of us perfectly understood.

I pressed myself against the cold wall, pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged my broken knees. The rough rope dug into my wrists from this movement, my fingers stabbed. It was possible to try to gnaw through the bonds, but I, like other comrades in misfortune, trembled with fear. Each of us perfectly remembered how the initiative of the blonde with a tattoo on her back ended, who dared to rush on two guards in balaclavas.

Her scream still rang in my ears, along with the sound of tearing fabric and kicks in rough grinders against her tattooed ribs. But the worst thing was not even that. How to erase from consciousness what these animals did to her later right before our eyes?

We were told to watch. We were so scared that we did not dare to disobey. They pressed against each other, sobbing in horror, while each in turn, wrapping her matted hair around his fist, brutally raped her in the mouth. Each of us for the first time saw such cruelty and did not imagine that such a place exists in the world that was once familiar to us.

The blonde was suffocating under the pressure of the rapist. His huge cock seemed to be ripping through her mouth, shutting off oxygen. She was literally shaking from a throat spasm, but the beast in a balaclava did not even think of stopping. A heavy scrotum slapped her chin, wet with saliva, and he himself slapped her cheeks with particular sadism. This went on for quite some time. In the end, the unfortunate woman could hardly breathe, literally hung, held only by his hand.

Yes, creature! - finally growled the bull, pulling the unconscious girl by the hair, pushed her away from him, pouring sperm over her pale face in black streams from the carcass. - Get it, pacifier!

The girl seemed to be in a semi-conscious state. But this did not save her from further bullying. While the rapist, who had satisfied his lust, kicked her in the stomach with a heavy sock, buttoned up his pants, the second grabbed the poor thing by the nipples and pulled sharply, forcing her to her feet.

And what about me? Disorder, - he mockingly muttered, patting her cheeks, shiny from the predecessor's sperm, and tried to insert his fingers into her mouth. - Lick, creature!

It is unlikely that she now understood what they wanted from her, but the two sadists did not care about the well-being of the victim. Unable to get a response, the man with a nasty chuckle took out an incomprehensible device from his pocket, consisting of leather straps and metal rings connected to each other in a kind of cylinder. None of us understood what it was and why he needed it. Trembling with horror and not daring to take our eyes off, we silently watched as he inserted this construction into the blonde's mouth with a sharp movement, tearing out a weak moan from her throat, and with one movement of his hand tightened the belt around her neck.

The girl almost fell - her legs no longer held her, and a friend came to the rescue. He jerked her bound hands, winding her behind her head, hit her back with his fist, forcing her to kneel. The second hastily unzipped his rough military pants, freeing his cock. He ran his head along the blonde's lips, literally flattened by the metal of a terrible gag.

Prepare me!

One of the girls almost lost her temper when the freak began to rape her in a gagged mouth, but another held her back - hugged her, but not gently as a sign of support, but keeping her from a fatal act. None of us had any choice but to watch the act of merciless, barbaric rape. And then it turned out that it was still not the worst.

The girl was thrown to the concrete floor. Having smeared saliva on his thick process, the rapist parted her elastic buttocks and, laughing nastily, with a sharp movement entered the tight ring of the anus.

From the throat of the unfortunate escaped inhuman scream. Alas, this did not stop the scum, which had no right to be called a man. Someone closed their eyes, but immediately the second freak in the balaclava took a step forward, raising his fist.

Watch, bitches!

And we had to watch this nightmare to its end. Watch, not having the opportunity and courage to come to the aid of a sister in misfortune. To fix this horror in memory for life, realizing that soon the same thing awaits us. But within each was hope. The hope that we will be found, released, saved from such a terrible fate. That's the way a person is. Alas, our hopes were destined to choke in agony very soon.

When it was over, the blonde finally lost consciousness. She was dragged away, especially without ceremony - they picked her up by her bound hands and dragged her along the dirty concrete floor. Beads of sweat broke out on her back, and streams of blood mixed with semen flowed down her thighs.

Let's get going soon, animals! - threw the self-satisfied rapist in the end, closing the iron door with peeling flakes of oil paint.

My companions and I remained to look at the impregnable doors. The stale air of the room reeked of blood, sweat and fear. And also sperm. I wanted to pinch my nose so as not to feel this nauseating smell. The shock was so strong that for some time there was an oppressive, dead silence in the cell. None of us still could believe that we were all locked up here - frightened, hungry, bound ... and now completely disillusioned about what happened next. Somewhere water was dripping, the silence began to be replaced by frightened sobs. The girl sitting next to her began to shake violently. Not realizing what I was doing, I leaned towards her, intending to console her, and at the same time reduce the degree of my own horror with a sense of unity. But the short-haired brunette recoiled, incredulously pulling her head into her shoulders.

Probably, I should have said that we have no right to become limp and give up, we must stick together, one by one they will quickly break us ... but I could not squeeze out a word. She sat and looked at her own wrists, bound with coarse rope. Fingers began to lose sensitivity, dampness made its way to the bones. But that was nothing compared to the terrible situation I was in.

One of the girls let out a long howl. Alas, after a visual demonstration of the blonde's punishment, no one rushed to console her and stroke her head. The captives cast disapproving glances at her, someone told her to shut up, and a tall red-haired girl, jumping up, grabbed her by the hair and hissed angrily:

Did you decide to bring us under the monastery? Shut up before I break your jaw!

The girls murmured their approval, and I hurried to look away. The scheme worked. I could only guess where we all ended up, but one thing was clear: reality with brutal rape was not the first time for these animals to scroll. The calculation was correct: not to let us unite, to disunite, to force us to shake alone, fearing for our own skin. Now anyone can easily pawn a tovarka to avoid a horrific fate.

I was involuntarily surprised that even in a state of shock and fright I can give a logical explanation to the visitor and see what is hidden from most of those present. “Stress resistance, analytical mindset, knowledge of psychology, adaptation and the ability to find a way out in crisis situations,” I recalled an excerpt from the description that the university provided to a large company that subsequently hired me for the position of assistant secretary of one of the members of the board of directors. I looked around and wiggled my fingers. Adaptation?! Are you seriously?

The girls started talking in whispers. The conversations boiled down to one thing - where did we all end up, under what circumstances, and that they would definitely find us. I crawled back against the wall and closed my eyes. There was not the slightest desire to join them: I did not share their sugary illusions.

"They won't find it! How easily you were all tied up and kidnapped, only says that a gang of professionals worked! And it is naive to think that they left traces. Nobody is looking for us! yelled an inner voice, and the realization that he was right made his blood run cold. Looks like I'm the only one with no illusions. Panic sucked into a dark pool, threatening to deprive of reason, squeezing with black tentacles. I clenched my fists - the rope dug painfully into the delicate skin of my wrists, but this pain sobered me up. Panic doesn't make it any easier. We must try to maintain a clear mind, if, of course, this is possible.

I didn't notice how I fell asleep. In an uncomfortable position, chilled from the dampness of the wall against which she leaned. It cannot be called perfect sleep. Sounds penetrated the veil of oblivion, fixed on the subcortex of consciousness. The clang of a door, a rude obscenity, a jerky order. Clang again. Sounds of greedy sips, bickering girls. And again silence.

I woke up because someone unceremoniously shook my shoulder. Persistent, but not rude. Waking up, I did not understand where I was, and began to look for a blanket. Hands did not obey. And when I opened my eyes, reality literally hit me in the face.

Bunker or cellar. Dim light, stale air, dampness. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed, fearing that now despair would prevail, and I would burst into tears, or, even worse, start throwing myself at the walls and yelling at the top of my lungs. She squinted her eyes at the palm with bright red nails, grimacing from the sweat that hit her nose and sweet, cloying perfume, and only after that looked at the owner of these characteristics.

Redhead. The one who, in the manner of a chav, told the crying girl to shut up and not cause trouble. I was immediately covered with a wave of rejection and disgust - in my eyes, it was she who was a traitor, shaking in her own skin. This one will sell for a penny.

What do you want?

Come on, eat here. Barely beat off these troglodytes. And water.

I looked down at the plastic plate folded into a boat in her bound hands. Contrary to expectation, it was not stale bread or prison gruel at all. Buckwheat, slices of tomatoes and cucumbers. At the feet of the sudden benefactress lay an apple and a plastic bottle of water. They obviously didn't want to starve us.

Vitamins, f**k. That's right, who benefits from turning us into withered skeletons with teeth falling out? Not even a pervert would buy these.