Author Topic: Klub Rape - Vol. 7 - Harm's Universe ©  (Read 2042 times)

Offline [Bubbles]

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  • ...and you will know me by the trail of the Ravish
    • ...And you will know me by the trail of the Ravished...
Klub Rape - Vol. 7 - Harm's Universe ©
« on: October 05, 2021, 10:19:08 PM »
(**DISCLAIMER**  - This is fiction. Don't do anything like this in real life; reality has laws against this type of behavior for a good reason. If this story fuels a disconnect with reality in you so deep that you can't stop yourself from acting it out on unwilling participants, then that shit's in you, it's straight-up Gatorade!  And I'd appreciate it if you got some help and didn't continue to read my stories!)

The Fraternal Order of Kappa Rho

The boys of KR were part of a longstanding tradition at Langston Prep. Kappa Rho was a tradition that had been passed down for generations, no one quite knows how it began as its founding members have held that secret close to the chest, but the tradition lives on. Each year two new inductees are added to the existing 6 members. These 8 boys carry on the proud tradition of formally introducing young girls to their worst fears.  Kappa Rho, when discussed amongst mixed company, but to the boys it was, is and always will be Klub Rape!

Victor Banks-
African American, Senior, President, The Planner, Son of African Prince
Eli Rothenberg- Jewish, Senior, VP, Mother owns 12% of all diamonds sold domestically
KGB- Junior, Real Name Unknown, Russian, Master at Arms, Muscle, Father ex-KGB
Rafi Hershey- Sophomore, American, Kappa Rho dynasty, father was KR Class of 75, founding member.
Oliver “Bear” Johns – Sophomore, Caucasian, Son of a wealthy entrepreneur and engineer, star athlete, junior national powerlifting
Roy “Hammer” Hamm – British Exchange student, connections to a less than savory overseas drug lord, Mother was a former spy for MI-6, tech savant
Jason McAvoy – Father was a founding member, Old Oil Money from Texas, Reckless & boisterous, usually known to be a hothead, invited out of tradition.
Omar Abdul – Old Money from the Middle East, parents unknown. Brilliant, chemical engineering prodigy, Quiet and contemplative.

_________________________________________________ ________________________________________________


Chapter 7: Try the Twelve


“Listen, I don’t want to do this.”  Jason explains.

“AAAAYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

His hands gripped the small body, by his estimation, she couldn’t have been more than 4’5” tall.  The very notion of how old she might have been made his stomach turn.  His hands slid to her shoulders as he set her upright on the bed.  “I need you to know how sorry I am,” he whispers, unsure if the guys can see and hear or just see him.  His eyes shifting in the darkness trying to reassure the shivering girl as he notices the sole source of illumination in the room, a small red dot in the corner, near the ceiling, from a night vision camera behind plexiglass. 

“I don’t want to do this, but out there,” he says pointing in the dark, only to realize how irrelevant his actions were.  “They have someone I love, and I’d do anything to save her. So I’m sorry, and I’m going to make sure they pay for….for all of this,” he says softly pulling the naked trembling body into him.  He feels her let out a sigh, she smelled sweet, like honey, “they will pay I promise, but I have to do this” he adds hoping that his words grant her some level of solace for what’s about to come next.  “I’m sorry, I know this is going to hurt,” he says softly.

He can feel her shaking her head no as Jason rolls her onto her stomach. “EEEEEEEEE, OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIISSSSSSS” Her hands had been zip-tied behind her back to prevent whatever resistance she may have put forth, and Omar had taken the liberty of removing her clothes.  His hands reached up to the girl’s head, her hair was short, probably a pixie cut, his hands maneuvered around her head further, feeling the cut that had been left of her forehead. Probably punishment for resistance to her kidnapping, Jason pushed past that, feeling the bit between her teeth, her jaw and cheeks were distended around it as whoever placed it her secured it intentionally tight so that it would inflict pain.  His chubby fingers fumbled around her head until they got to the padlock at the back of her head that held the bit in place.  There was nothing he could do to make this any better and he knew time was of the essence. His hands slid down to her shoulders, reaching around her pert body, Jason’s curiosity got the best of him as he slid his hands between her tiny bee sting tits.  Gripping her flat chest he pulled her back so that her ass hung off the bed. 

His hands continued down her body until they reached her hips, her body was smooth and unblemished.  Jason’s hands slid down between her taut ass cheeks. A breathy sigh escapes his lips as he continued exploring. His fingers trembled as he recoiled from the rush of excitement and shame as he ran his index finger alongside her little bald slit.  Her body jolts in response to the presence of a hand where none had even been before.

She wiggled, her body shifting on the bed until that terrible moment of violation, feeling Jason’s digits at her soft lips, she kicks backward catching Jason in the knee hyperextending it in a fairly unpleasurable manner. “GAH!” He howls stumbling backward monetarily gripping his knee “fucking bitch!” He barks, his hand instinctively balling into a fist as he draws back and sends it crashing into her side. Her body contorts after the blow as she howls in pain bucking on the bed unable to attend to the injury as Jason is fairly sure he could feel a rib or two cracking. 

He breathes in through his nose, his hands rubbing either side of his knee that felt like it was throbbing, he shifts his weight to his left leg wincing as he does.  “Okay, then, let's just get this over with,” Jason growls frustrated at himself, once again a girl he was trying to help or be kind to have used the moment as a chance to hurt him.  “This was never going to be fun for you, but now it's going to be a fucking nightmare” he promises making his way around be the bed. “you,” he scoffs, “ohhhh, you’re just like the rest of em,” he grunts kicking his leg behind him again and placing light pressure on it to make sure he was could still put weight on it.  “Well fucking fine by me!”

His hands grip around her ribcage sending shockwaves of pain through her body, her broken rib sending enormous waves of pain through her little body confirming Jason’s suspicions that he’d either fractured or broken something.  “Let’s cut the foreplay,” he grunts, his body slightly askew from only putting partial weight on his right knee.  Jason’s tongue wiggles in his mouth as his lips pucker delivering a mouthful of saliva into his palm.  His other hand quickly unzips his fly, he’d wasted enough time trying to reassure this girl who he was going to have to ruin regardless of her comfort with the situation.  The two Viagra had already started working their magic, and it only took a handful of strokes for Jason’s chubby uncut cock to spring to life.  His eyes narrowed and focused in on her surprisingly firm and full ass, bending his knees he wasted no more time.

He pressed himself to her little asshole, looking down in the darkness, puckering once more sending saliva onto her ass that his free hand quickly slid to her sphincter. “No need in starting out slow, eh?” he mutters closing his eyes and letting gravity do the rest as he leans over the bed. 

Her response was immediate. Her legs splayed, kicking behind her as the pain caused her to lose what little purchase she may have had with the poured concrete floor.  Suddenly she wasn’t cold, or hungry, or afraid.  There was only one thing in her world. Pain. Raw, intense, blinding pain. Somehow, she could only see white in the darkness. As if the pain created an ivory overlay of reality.  Each time she thought the pain would subside another inch slid inside her rectum, that she was forced to accept more of Jason stretched her hole. The stifled screams were the stuff of nightmares. As her entire body retreated from Jason, trying desperately to regain the footing she’d had in order to propel herself forward, but it was to late, with one guttural grunt Jason forced the last 3” of his cock into her until his balls were resting on her smooth little slit.

The tears seared her cheeks as her face distorts around the rubber bit, her eyes closed so hard she thought they’d never open again as the cock in her ass felt like it might rip her apart. Jason’s firm grip around her chest only sought to make matters worse as she was forced to endure the additional pain of his body weight on her; pressing her into the bed making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

The strange feeling of his cock leaving her ass was cause for relief, as Jason’s hips shift away she felt like all her insides might go with it. Jason’s eyes rolled in his head as the girl's tight little orifice stretched over every inch of his cock, squeezing his cock head as he pulls completely out of her ass. The soft sucking sound of the vacuum left behind greets him as her hole begins shrinking back to normal.  For one beautifully naive moment, she thought the nightmare was over.
 His stance widens as he breathes in deeply feeling the young thing under him desperately trying to squeeze her little hole unused to the gaping open feeling she was experiencing. Jason chuckles licking his lips he could feel her desperation, his hands around her ribcage betrayed her ragged and panicked breaths.  He stood behind her, his head forcing her once puckered hole open, enjoying feeling the power her imposed on her, savoring the moment for every delicious second of suffering it caused.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” Her squeals were ear piercing as Jason committed to his next intrusion into her rectum; he propelled himself forward as he pulled her petite body backward, impaling her on his cock.  Her frantic screams could be heard outside the soundproofed room, an impressive feat that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Well she’s a fucking screamer,” Victor comments entering the viewing room.

“BLOODY HELL! MAN! FUCK!” Hamm bemoans as his intense focus on the monitors and the overall erotic nature of the images on them had left him blind to Victor’s entrance. “Can you please never do that again?” Hamm says glancing down the darkened hallway Vic had just appeared from, his hand clutching his heart as 15 CCTV monitors captured every second of the destruction that took place in each room.

“No promises,” he says patting Hamm on the back.  He gazed at the row of monitors on the wall.  One for each room, the lobby, the bar, and outside.  “How has it been tonight?”

“Constant, but the early word is that the alumni love this year’s batch,” Hamm says sliding across a clipboard with a stack of papers attached to it.  “I’ll save you the trouble,” Hamm adds pointing at the documents, “Marisol has seen the least action, I guess Latinas aren’t in season; the good Doctor drew the short straw and is on anal duty tonight, the twins have been the most popular by far, but surprisingly Candace has gotten the best reviews and is described as,” he grabs his glasses of the table next to him sliding them on his face as he thumbs through the reviews, “eager to please, a competent cocksucker, appropriately deferential.” Hamm says taking his glasses back off, “I gotta be honest after all that crying and moaning I didn’t expect this kind of performance, I guess headmistress Rose knows what she’s doing.”

“It would appear that way,” Victor says only partially listening to the reviews as he zoomed the camera in on Jason’s room, watching him pound away on the whimpering girl under him. “And how’s he been doing?”

“Almost nonstop for three straight hours.” Hamm says winding back the footage, “he cums in her ass, fucks her twat. Cums in her twat, he fucks her ass. He stopped once about 45 minutes ago, took another two Viagra, and went back in.” Hamm says with a blithely chuckle.  “I think ya put the fear of god in em mate.” He says as they watch Jason continue his tour d’ force. “But speaking of Rose, are we good for next year?”

“Oh we’re good, she’s going to come at me with both barrels, which means you’ll have free reign all year.” Victor says as his attention shifting to Quinn who was being double teamed by two Kappa Rho alumni who started a law firm together a few years ago, they always had a nose for the most damaged girls.

“You really are a saint. I’m gonna see if we can’t get you proper knighted when I go home.” Hamm says reveling at Victor’s ability to execute a plan.

“I’d settle for just seeing Tottenham wipe the pitch with Liverpool.”

“Keep dreaming,” Hamm retorts as Victor says leaning in inspecting each monitor closely. 

“Fuck is this the best view?” Vic says squinting to make out what exactly was happening in each room.

“Nah, hold on a bit.” Hamm reaches over to the larger 36” monitor mounted to the wall on their left, powering it on, “what ya wanna see?” he asks.

“Bring up room five,” Vic says tapping one of the smaller screens only to see the image transfer in full HD to the larger view.

Room 5

The entire room smelled like sweat. However, Quinn’s mind was elsewhere, which was fortunate because at that exact moment her legs were high in the air as two gruntings, hairy, Italian men thrust into her in concert. Their breath was hot on her neck as the full filling she was experiencing was becoming all too familiar.  Her head bobbed up and down in rhythm to their forceful entries into her pussy and ass. The bump she took an hour ago was quickly losing its steam and the reality of her life was starting to invade her mind the way a sunny day cuts through light curtains on summer mornings.

She hadn’t touched the ground in 30 minutes and she was fairly sure her legs were asleep. She glances to her left, trying to wiggle her toes, only to find them non-responsive, then glancing to her right to find the same. “Yah,” she moans as her head is yanked back by the man who was inside her ass as he pulled the handful of hair to ensure he maintained unbroken eye contact with the other man in her aching pussy.  Despite the fact that both of her holes were raw, and tears had been rolling down her cheeks for the last 10 minutes, Gerard and James hardly noticed, as this had little to do with Quinn.  Each year they returned to Kappa Rho to engage in a test of will and virility.  They would only fuck a girl together with very simple rules, the first to cum loses.

It was a steel-faced, iron-willed, high-stakes game of chicken as the loser at the end of the night surrendered 1 share of stake in the company for each margin of victory.  Which, on occasion shifted the balance of power in was presently a 52/48 split.  As it stood Gerard hadn’t held the controlling interest in nearly 3 years but was currently up 5-to-1 and was committed to winning the company back this year.  His desires of course did not factor in the comfort or pleasure of the girls they took each night, he was willing to fuck Quinn until she bled if that was what it took.

“That’ll do, room 3,” Vic says shifting his attention.

Room 3

Maddy was disgusted with herself but was already sporting a black eye for accidentally muttering the word “stop” once tonight.  In the corner of the room sat a 68-year-old man who was casually reading the Wall Street Journal. She wasn’t necessarily into older guys, and certainly not that old, but Maddy wasn’t servicing him. She never thought a situation would arrive where the idea of a 68-year-old fucking her mouth wouldn’t have made her skin crawl, but what was happening now was far worse. As an alumnus of Kappa Rho, the old man was entitled, by rule, to bring one guest to alumni nights.  However, that guest had to be male, and related to him, it was like Kappa Rho’s recruitment program.  In this case, he brought his 11-year-old grandson who was currently thrusting wildly into Maddy’s mouth with all the vigor his little body could muster. 

Linus Bronson III was a regular chip off the old block. When he saw Maddy he marveled at her size, he’d never seen a girl that big in real life before.  Her tits were massive (to him), he spent a solid 10 minutes simply slobbering over then when he got into the room.  That was bad enough but when Linus senior told her to suck him off she nearly puked right there. He wasn’t sure what that meant or how to feel about it at first as he laughed and giggled but only a minute after Maddy began he wasn’t laughing anymore. 

“His balls,” senior chimed in.

“What?!” Maddy said looking up somehow even more disgusted than she just was.

“Do you need a reminder of your role tonight Miss Parker?” He says quickly folding his paper in half and setting it down next to him revealing the electric wand that he’d ‘motivated’ her with earlier.  She adamantly shook her head, diving her face back down between his legs, her tongue lapping at his little testicles. 

“Ohhhhhhh” he moans spreading his legs wider giving Maddy the access she so desperately didn’t want. He pulled her head towards him encouraging her to accept his little sack into her mouth, reveling in the warmth of her tongue.
“Deepthroat him,” senior then chimes in again hearing his young protégé building to his first orgasm.

Maddy sighs and transitions his cock back between her lips, it didn’t take much longer after that, as only took thirty seconds later he was pumping her mouth full of a surprising amount of cum. 

When it happened Maddy sat back aghast as it rolled from her mouth, Senior just laughed, “ya know in Texas we got a sayin’, its always the baby rattlers you gotta watch out fer’, they always shoot the most venom.” He chuckles, spitting a bit of his chewing tobacco in the corner. “Now swallow it.” He says going back to reading.

Quinn closed her eyes and swallowed the cum, along with whatever pride she had left.

“Again,” Linus the 3rd says sitting up, “do it again.” Maddy looked at him with sympathetic eyes, but only received a look of cold heartless compassion as he awaited her obedience.  Senior never even looked up from his paper as Maddy glanced back at him hoping to talk the young American psycho down. “I’m waiting he said indignantly,” as if his little cock not being sucked was offensive. Maddy sighed as she repositioned herself between his legs only to hear senior finally pipe up.

“Now ya know,” he says, giving Maddy a glimmer of hope that she wouldn’t have to do that again, “its more fun if you hold her head then you can control the speed lil fella.” He adds before spitting into the corner again.  Maddy was aghast as she looked at him disgusted, he was giving rape pointers. Though her disgust was short-lived as Linus stood up on the bed quickly grabbing her head and forcing his limp cock to her lips.  “DO IT AGAIN!” he commanded clearly having no idea how it worked but simply chasing the feeling.

“That boy is gonna be president one day,” Vic snickers.

“What of KR or the country?” Hamm inquires as they watch.

“Fuck, why not both, Trump did it and he’s a goddamn moron. Let’s see room 4.” He says as he notices the twins.

Room 4

Jane had to look away. She just couldn’t watch anymore. At the beginning of the night the girls were forced to draw lots, most were standard use but in Claire’s case she got inarguably the worst lot you could draw.

She had been chained in the corner all night on her knees which were red and bruised.  Her soft sobs were constant. The man standing in front of her was motionless with his hands in front of his body. He shifted his weight onto his toes bouncing up and down.  “Swallow”

A pained moment of silence filled the room as Jane heard the soul-crushing gulping sound on the other side of the room as her twin swallowed a mouthful of piss. As he stepped away and came back to Jane; she knew what was expected, she simply opened her mouth and allowed him to pick up where he left off before nature called. From her peripheral view, he could see Claire whose face was blank…empty and expressionless, or maybe it just seemed that way as it had been coated with more than 23 loads of cum according to the small blackboard with tally marks above her head.
 
Clarie would have loved to clean her face off but the handcuffs keeping her wrists secured behind her back prevented such foolishness. When this first started, she’d considered just spitting the piss and cum back at the men, only to be informed that the large metal bowl under her that was quickly filling would need to be emptied before she would be released from this position.  It was possible that Rafi was bluffing when he shared this information with her, but when he informed her that it took the last girl 2 days before she could leave she simply accepted what was her fated role.

Jane would have begged for mercy for her sister but she’d lost the ability to talk hours ago. It may have been Claire's responsibility to swallow any fluid these heartless assholes could produce; it was Jane’s job to get them to that point.  The O-ring spider gag was doing its job keeping her mouth open and the lock at the back prevented her from changing that fact. Her jaw ached and her throat was raw from being repeatedly and violently pounded by 18 different men with cocks that would make porn stars blush. However, despite losing her voice (and lunch a number of times), it was hard to feel bad for herself when she knew the end result of the facefuckings she received would be another load of cum on her sister's face or down her throat. She’d never wanted their father more in her-

-BLAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- The mixture that erupted from her mouth and onto the floor was the same bright pink as it had been all night, probably from the cheap pizza they were fed during their 10-minute lunch.  Jane couldn’t figure out why all the men were snickering and pointing while they were eating but it was beginning to make sense.  They knew what was coming.

Her hands patted as the hips of a fairly prominent minor league baseball player who hardly acknowledge her protests, moans, or projectile vomit and simply kept pumping himself deep into her throat. She struggled to breathe or clear her throat in lieu of his onslaught.

“Like we fed them for their own enjoyment,” Hamm chuckles. As Victor gets back to directing the show.

“Let’s go to room-”

A heavy hand on his right shoulder spins Vic around “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SON?!” Liam McAvoy had been expected though his RSVP was never officially received.  However, despite his frustrations, he’d forgotten that Victor grew up not the son of a king, but the son of a warlord who became king. For his troubles, a full-force left hook connected with Jason’s father’s right cheek sending him backward into the leftover cables and cameras the guys hadn’t used for setup.

Victor’s surprise always turned to rage.  But he managed to stifle it, turning to Hamm to begrudgingly admit. “Okay, yea, I understand your reaction now.” He gathers himself, ensuring his tone was appropriate before progressing on to deal with the business that was Jason’s father. Liam rose from the floor straightening his cheaply tailored suit, always trying to impress. Victor pointed defiantly at Liam halting what would have been another approach. “I promise you, if you keep coming you won’t like the result.”

Liam knew Vic was only 18, but his confidence in his own fighting prowess compared to that of a boy he knew had murdered at least 27 people in his father’s power grab and subsequent regime allowed cooler heads to prevail.

“Where is my son,” Liam reiterated, substantially calmer and possibly too afraid to take another step but still wanting answers.

“He is busy cleaning up his father’s mess.” Victor informs him forcing Liam to swallow hard.

“I told your father I’d handle it.” Liam says trying to reason with the son in a way the father clearly wasn’t apt to receive.

“We have little confidence in your ability to handle this situation. Your wife, the drunken whore that she is, took a life, of ONE OF OURS!” Victor says pounding his chest as he steps forward, his accent revealing itself through his rage.  He maintains unbroken eye contact as he closes the distance between himself and Liam. “She would have been a doctor,” he says calmly as he comes face to face with Liam. Despite the fact that Liam is 3 inches taller, the power dynamic couldn’t be clearer as Liam’s eyes find the floor.  “And you, like the coward you are, sent her out of the country.”

“WHAT COULD I HAVE DONE!?” Liam roars, finally unable to defend himself or his wife’s actions. “YOUR FATHER WOULD HAVE-”

“Have what?!” Victor demands.

“They call him the butcher of East Africa Victor,” Liam says.  His explanation falling on deaf ears as Vic turns back to Hamm.

“I don’t call him that, I call him Baba,” Vic says looking at Hamm who munches away on a Snicker’s he’d found in his pocket.

With a mouthful or peanuts and chocolate Hamm simply responds, “I mean I call him Sir, or King, I did call him Mosi once, it was weird.”

“That was weird,” Victor confirms before turning his attention back to Liam. “You owe us a life…a debt. You know where I’m from, we have a saying.”

“Debt will make a man bargain with death.” The thick east-African accent that finishes the proverb emerges from the darkened hallway leading to the room. King Mosi Baak-Diaw (which Victor had shortened to Banks upon coming to America.)

Exasperated by the continual jump scares Hamm bemoans, “Seriously, I’m putting a light in that hallway. Like tomorrow.” Hamm chimes in undercutting the tension.

“So, Liam,” Mosi asks as he enters, two massive bodyguards flanking him on either side dressed in dark fatigues. “Are you ready to bargain with death?”

Whatever gumption and spine Liam had previously shown when dealing with Victor quickly disappeared. Victor crossed the room embracing his father.  Their features a striking portrait of one another. Hard, stone-faced men who had seen things that would keep most from sleeping well at night. “Baba, it is good to see you.”

“And you my son,” he says planting a kiss on Victor’s forehead before turning to Hamm.

“Sir…uhh Sire? Your highness.” Hamm settles on, standing and bowing.

“Roy how many times must I tell you, please call me Mosi.” Hamm awkwardly smiles, softly shaking his head as he makes eye contact with Victor, affirming what they both thought. It was weird.

“Mosi, I-”Liam’s thoughts were cut short by the pair of hands around his neck.

“YOU! WILL CALL ME KING!” Mosi demands, a fiery rage in his eyes. Liam was dropped to his knees as his air supply was taken from him, his mouth moved to form words, but nothing came out as Mosi squeezed with rough-hewn hands that had escorted many men from this world. Liam had no choice but to yield, holding his hands high in surrender, only then was he released. 

Mosi pulls a handkerchief from his suit pocket, dabbing it around his mouth, as he seethed at Liam. “King,” Liam faintly whimpers from the floor. Mosi holds up a finger, silencing Liam.

“You do not speak to me, you only listen until spoken to,” Mosi adds frustrating Liam even further unable to address the very issue that brought him here. “Is everything in place my son?” Mosi asks walking past a desperate Liam.

“Yes father,” Victor says succinctly.  It was incredible to watch Vic’s change in disposition with his father around. He stood up straighter, his answer was more matter of fact, he even held his chin higher.

“Then let us show Liam what his debt has purchased,” Mosi says patting Victor on the back. Vic grabbed Liam by the scruff of his collar. 

“Let’s go,” Vic says hoisting Liam up with little effort.  Mosi, Liam, and Vic made their way out the soon to be well-lit hallway (if Hamm had anything to say about it) and into the larger common room where scores of men who had emptied themselves a number of times into terrified girls sat enjoying coffee and drinks. They quickly made their way through the crowd-drawing hushed whispers as to the King’s presence in America.

Liam, hadn’t appreciated being dragged through the room by his suit jacket but with the King’s guard shadowing directly behind them he thought it best not to make a scene. They arrived at room seven. A stoic king, a fuming son, and a confused father. Vic glanced up at the camera just outside the room. “Do it.” He said.

Hamm knew what was about to happen as he moved to the larger control panel that controlled not the cameras but the lights. Bringing the lights up inside the room then adjusting his attention back to the screen.

The scream that echoed from inside the room dwarfed any other that had occurred that night. Seconds later Jason came barreling through the door where Vic provided the same greeting he’d given his father earlier. Jason was sent crashing into a nearby table upsetting a number of the guests but not nearly enough to become vocal about it given the tension in the room.

Liam, as expected, rushed to his son’s side. “Dad!?” Jason replies with a horrified look on his face. He pushed his father away, still to disoriented to stand but unable to gain separation from his father as he covers his face with his hands.

Pushing back against Liam’s efforts to understand his action.

“I DIDN’T KNOW!” he screams, “I didn’t know, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have, I didn’t know, I DIDN’T KNOW!” He continued what appeared to be mindless ramblings, despite Liam’s best attempt to shake his son from his manic episode.  His head whipped around looking for a towel, or cool water, anything that might help his son’s condition.

That’s when he saw it.  The cheap plastic beads. The kind you find in bargain bins in craft stores in middle America, the kind that they had at the overpriced summer camp he sent his daughter to last year. Wrapped around an ankle that hung motionless off the edge of a dirty mattress where the cheap hot pink and pastel blue beads that spelled out Emmie.
Liam released his son as if he were made of radioactive materials. Looking down at Jason who shook his head unable to explain his action with anything other than, “I didn’t know.”

Victor’s hand again pulled at Liam’s collar as his free hand motioned KGB and Rafi.  They already knew their roles in tonight’s performance. Pulling in a small table and two chairs into the room where Emmie lay motionless on the bed.

As Liam reached his feet he needed no further assistance and staggered into the room, his hand over his mouth as his eyes saw the carnage.  Her face was covered in bruises so thoroughly she could barely see out her left eye, her mouth was gagged, more bruises lined her neck, ribs, and thighs.  Her legs up agape revealing the cum that was still dripping from her ravaged holes.  Smatters of smeared blood in the shape of handprints manipulating her body into more agreeable sexual positions coated her inner thighs, hips, and ass from hours or repeated rapes.

Liam’s face was emotionless. Blank as he saw what was left of his little girl laying there on a stained mattress clinging to consciousness. Then it showed. At the bridge of his nose, the slightest wrinkle, narrowing eyes, the slightest tremor and twitch in his cheek as his jaw clenched. Mosi could see it building, his hands coiling into fists. Mosi had seen that fire, it was the same fire he felt when his wife had been murdered by a rival tribe, that was the fire he built an empire on, but that fire had to be focused in order to build, otherwise---

Like a flash, Liam darted from the room raining down fierce and merciless haymakers aimed at Jason’s face. The boy was not prepared. The blitz was so forceful and unexpected that before he couldn’t mount a defense and suffered a devastating series of rights to his face and head. No words needed to be exchanged, Mosi allowed him his outburst for a few more seconds before he casually motioned Victor and the rest of Kappa Rho to break it up. 

Mosi calmly sat at the table that had been set up in the room with Emmie. As Liam was pulled from his son it was clear Jason had a broken nose, busted lip and was missing a few teeth, his face was a crimson mask as his hand reached up for his father still muttering the only words he could muster in defense “I didn’t know,” which would have been unintelligible if not for the fact that it’s all he’d been saying since the lights went on. Rafi and KGB escorted him to his seat in Emmie’s room.

Liam’s fists were covered in blood as he was brought into the room and forced into the seat opposite Mosi. “Mr. McAvoy, I appreciate your anger, but I would ask you to remain calm. The night is far from over, and we have much to discuss.” Liam was seething and could hardly see straight, he quickly stood from his chair, causing the two guards he’d forgotten about to take an aggressive approach towards him. He stood down quickly as even at 6’2” the two men Mosi had brought dwarfed him by the head.  Returning to his seat it took all his focus to stay seated.

As Victor felt content that Liam was more docile, he turned and exited the room, no sooner than he exits does Hamm reappear.  Carrying a bottle of scotch and two glasses. He sits them down on the table and nods at the King, “Mosi,” he says flashing a nervous smile. His nod is promptly returned, and he exits with his head held high.

Upon leaving Eli stops Hamm at the door, having missed most of the action due to being preoccupied stuffing Candace’s ass full of cum, only to watch her squeeze out the load onto the concrete floor and lap it up like an obedient dog.  He found himself truly amazed with Miss Rose’s ability to condition a whore with no sense of self preservation or dignity.

“Dude, what is with the bowing and the nodding.”

“He’s a king man!” Hamm explains as if the answer was self-evident.

“He’s Vic’s dad,” Eli retorts, having himself been to Mosi’s family palace for big game hunting a year ago failed to see why Hamm went the extra mile with all the pageantry.

“I’m British mate, royalty is a different thing for us, it’s like you Yanks and the Kardashians.” He says continuing on to room 4, intent on getting his chance to enjoy all the rides offered tonight.

Mosi leaned forward grabbing the bottle of Glenlivet 12 Single Malt Scotch, quickly cracking the seal and pouring two glasses half full of the scotch.  “Now,” he begins as though he’s teaching a lesson, “most people well tell you the Glenlivet 21 has the smoothest finish, and they’d be wrong. The Glenlivet 18 has a very unique bite to it, but it finishes smooth with none of that medicinal hit on the tongue, but that doesn’t necessarily make it the best. 15 is great sure, but the price point is always, consistently, wrong.” He says emphasizing his point with deliberate pauses. He bring the glass to his nose inhaling just a bit. “You smell that?” He asks despite the fact that Liam hasn’t touched his glass yet.  “That’s the 12. Twelve years, its so immature, raw, inexperienced.” He says as a heavy-set Indian man enters the room.

Liam’s face shifts and he attempts to stand only to be quickly set back in his chair by the guards who had repositioned themselves substantially closer.  The man begins undressing as though this were his own home and the bitter realization of what was about to happen sank in. “Don’t do this,” Liam says, that anger and rage that was there moments ago turning to desperation. “Please.”

Mosi continues, taking a sip from his glass. “Now some people will tell you that the 12 isn’t old enough yet. That it doesn’t know what it wants to be, and to break into that cask that’s been sitting there for 12 years untouched is just a crime.”  He sighs, taking another sip, “But I’ll tell you this…Every man, should try the 12. Every. Man.
 
The color drained from Liams face as in the few seconds it took Mosi to opine over his scotch the man had dropped his pants and was already positioning himself at Emmie’s swollen pussy lips.  “Please, I’m begging you don’t do this.”  But it was already too late.  The soft thudding sounds of an obese middle-aged actuary working his fat cock inside Emmie’s little slit had already begun.  For 7 and a half minutes, the massive man pounded away inside Emmie’s gaped hole, only stopping after a flurry of forceful but short thrusts and a loud groan. Liam watched as the man pulled his cock from his daughter who was so mentally broken that she hardly made a sound while a man nearly four times her weight forced himself into her.  The man wiped himself on her ass cheeks leaving a trail of semen running from her hole and down her legs. 

Pulling his pants up without a word he tucked himself in and exited with a cordial nod as if passing a co-worker in the hall between the bathroom and the coffee maker.  As though this was simply a normal part of his day.  Liam’s face was contorted and distraught. Having been forced to watch his daughter’s destruction. 

Mosi tilts the glass back, finishing his scotch, twisting his mouth to savor the flavor. “You know what,” he says standing up, “maybe they’re right, maybe 12 too young…but ehhhhh.” He sighs unzipping his pants pulling out 9.5” that was roughly the size of a coke can. “The only way to really be sure is to try it yourself.” He says reaching into his suit jacket pocket pulling a small key from it.  He makes his way around the bed with unbroken eye contact with Liam his half limp cock dangling as he walked. Liam, who was no longer trying to restrain himself at this point was openly crying, as his only outlet for the untenable situation.

Unlocking the spider gag at the back of Emmie’s head Mosi quickly held it up to his cock, it was obvious he would have never made it past the gag.  He tosses it aside climbing onto the bed. He pulled Emmie’s body towards him so that she was no longer hanging half off, how the man who just finished using her had left her. Mosi continued pulling until only her head hung off the opposite side of the bed.

No words need be exchanged as the message was clear, his strong fingers pried Emmie’s mouth open with little resistance, and with some effort, he slid himself into her mouth.  Her neck twists as she instinctively tries to escape her invader between her lips, but Mosi simply applies greater pressure, securing her head in place. Liam watched his daughter's jaw being pushed to its limit as Mosi had no intentions of backing out until his entire length had traveled into the little fuck puppet beneath him. Inch after swollen inch disappearing and finally eliciting a reaction from the nearly unresponsive girl.

As he finally restricts her airway, her body violently convulses, trying to expel the massive organ depressing her tongue and invading her throat.  Mosi smiles as he pumps further into her despite her body’s autonomic response. Watching as his cock bulges her throat and snakes its way deeper down her throat, appearing to sink under her sternum. 

“PLEASE, NO!” Liam said as if it wasn’t already too late. Emmie’s body shot back to life as breathing became a more and more distant concept. Her fingers clenched in on her hands and then extended, her body simply unable to cope with the weight of it all.

“A life for a life, right Liam?” Mosi asks casually as he thrusts himself into an increasingly desperate tween’s mouth. Slowly Emmie’s wriggling began to dissipate, even at best it was more of a passive defense her body put up than an active attempt to free herself. But finally, her limps start to go limp… the kicking stops…her hands relax, falling back to the bed.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE!”
Liam screams, bringing a smile to Mosi’s face. His hips retreat withdrawing from Emmie who rolls onto her side gasping for air and sputtering back to life. A thick stream of saliva rolls from her open mouth as she resumes breathing, just barely. “S..she-she’s yours.” Liam says teary-eyed.

“Was that so hard?” Mosi asks, rolling Liam’s daughter back onto her back, holding the conversation as he pinches her cheeks forcing her mouth back open despite her still recovering from his last assault. “Had you simply done what was necessary we wouldn’t be here today?”

Mosi enjoys the sensation of the young body beneath him writhing as he slides himself back into her mouth, the near brush with death making her far more lucid than his previous incursion into her throat causing her to be a bit less compliant, but Mosi didn’t mind as overpowering her took little effort

Having surrendered Emmie, Liam saw no further reason to suffer the indignity of watching this savage choke his daughter repeatedly.  He stood from the chair drawing the ire of the two guards who moved between him and the door. Liam, slumping over defeated simply admits, “you won, don’t make me watch too.” He says praying there is a sliver of mercy in the King’s body.

Smiling as he grips the back of Emmie’s head feeling her throat attempt to expel him again and again as he simply forced his way further down. Looking up for only the briefest of moments adding, “I said every man should try the 12.” He says grunting as he thrusts into her his massive arms pulling on her head to make sure he’d gone as deep as he can before pulling back and finishing his thought. “and I meant every man.”

Across the hall, Victor and Eli had relieved Hamm of his duties overseeing the cameras. He knew what was coming next as he settled into the padded leather office chair. Neither had exactly paid close attention when Hamm had set all this up. Eli stood next to Vic as he worked the keyboard dragging and dropping, clicking and scrolling trying to figure out how Hamm set up the monitors. Eventually, he managed to navigate to room 7 and bring it up on the larger monitor. Eli, dragging in a chair from the hall, sits beside Vic excited to watch this unfold. “I can’t hear anything,” Eli says reaching back for the control, causing Vic to push his hand away.

“Just watch, trust me you won’t need the sound,” he adds as the animated scene inside spoke volumes.

Victor could read Liam like a book, watching him processing the reality that was in front of him, while Mosi, his hands gripped around Emmie’s head and neck controlled the squirming girl’s desperate attempts to breathe, pumping his hips into her continually as his massive organ burst, spilling copious amounts cum so thick into her throat and mouth that her body, with nowhere else to store it forced it through her nasal cavity and out her nose in a last-ditch effort to continue breathing.

Mosi, stepping back and tucking himself in his trousers smiled and motioned to Liam. Vic watched as Liam processed it all. Like any processing grief, first, it was denial, shaking his head and knocking over the table and chairs in the room, sending the bottle of scotch across the floor. Then isolation as his arms wrapped around his body, he retreated to the corner shaking his head no as Mosi spoke.  Vic knew exactly what he was saying.  He was telling Liam that he could either stay and watch the other 43 men in attendance tonight take their turn with Emmie, or he could get it over with now and spare those torrid images of his daughter being ruined as she was fucked senseless for the next 6 hours.  Then came the anger as Liam made a mad dash for the door, only to be sent flying backward by the guards who exerted little effort in denying him exit. Next was bargaining, he pleaded, shouting, begging for mercy that would never come. Then the depression, the dark realization of the truth as he animated gestures and vain attempts at escape stopped.  He stared at his daughter. Vic tilted his head sideways as he watched Liam climb onto the bed, whispering something in Emmie’s ear.

He imagined Liam must have been trying to reassure his daughter that he had no choice, that none of them did. That the only way for them to survive was for him to do the unthinkable.  But she’d heard that before, from her older brother only 3 hours ago. Now her father was repeating the same thing, she knew what that meant for her.  Lastly acceptance.  Liam stepped off the bed, hands unbuckled his belt and his pants slid down. As he attempted to roll Emmie prone in an effort to not have to look his daughter in the eye as he fucked her, Mosi quickly objected. Liam's head and cock hung limp as he approached the bed knowing he’d be forced to watch his daughter's face as he did this to her. He stroked himself, eyes averted from the carnage that lay before him on the bed trying to conjure a mental image of anything sexually appetizing, but his stomach was so turned by the day's events he couldn’t force himself erect.

Vic leans back, watching Liam’s pitiful attempts to get an erection, then a light went off over his head, turning to Eli with a smile.  “Send in Quinn, he knows her.”

Vic and Eli chuckle as he hops up rushing towards room 5, Eli doesn’t waste time explaining as he barges in to find Quinn jerking off two college guys on either side with the third guy in front of her, his cock glistening as is slides gently in and out of her mouth.

The room was quiet until the soft pop of a cock being prematurely removed from someone’s mouth and Quinn’s confused exclaiming, “gahhhh” and Eli hurried her to her feet and whisked her from the room. A chorus of “what the fuck bro!” echoed as he left with her, but her talents were needed elsewhere.  There was little reason to knock as Eli knew exactly what he was walking in on. 

Liam furiously pounding away at his flaccid cock while Mosi scrolled on his phone disinterested in his feeble attempts. “Mr. McAvoy?” Quinn says, suddenly remembering her self-respect and dignity, her arm crossing her tits, her other hand covering her cunt which was still leaking from the previous three guys she’d serviced in the last hour.

“Give me a fucking break,” Eli scowls pulling her hands down doing away with her façade of modesty. “Liam here needs a hand, well actually it looks like hands aren’t getting the job done, see if you can put your mouth to good use.” Eli says, his hands finding her shoulders, guiding her in front of Liam who looked confused. Aghast that the sweet girl he once knew was the same as the cum covered, red-eyed, tatted-up minx before him.

Quinn didn’t see why this cock in front of her face now would be treated any different than the previous 17 she’d seen that night just because he was the father of her ex. Her mouth opened as Liam’s hand moved aside and she simply took his length into her maw. Shock. Amazement. Disgust. Surprise. Liam was flooded with emotions, that were quickly mattering less and less as he watched Quinn gape her mouth wide and swallow his cock, for good measure extending her tongue just far enough to lick under his balls.  She could feel him growing inside her throat and shifted her breathing through her nose, a trick she both learned and mastered tonight.  Her hands reached behind Liam grabbing the upper part of his ass and using it as leverage as she began ramming her face against this pelvis.  Feeling his sagging balls crash against her chin. Her eyes closed, but if she took any lesson away from tonight, it was that if she did this to herself at least she was in some measure of control and she could manage her own breathing. 

GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUUWWWAAAKKKKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK --- GUUUWAKK ---GWAK –GWAK – GWAK – GWAK – GWAK – GWAK – GWAK- GWAK- GWAK GWAK GWAK GWAKGWAKGWAK. 

His cock was brought to life, and it didn’t take her long given her impressive performance of impaling her throat with appropriate vigor to see her hard work pay off.  As she popped his cock from her throat, glistening with her hard work she glanced up at Eli as if waiting for instructions on what to do next. With the same unceremonious nature, he again gripped her arm dragging her to her feet and out of the room, closing the door behind them. Liam was left dumbfounded by the resplendent display or oral skills from a girl who was too shy to give Jason his first kiss less than two years ago.

“I see Miss Bannister fixed your issue, perhaps now you can get on with it,” Mosi comments as he pens away at an email on his cell phone.

Liam had almost forgotten what was right in front of him. He practically held his breath, his cock gripped tightly in hand, still throbbing wishing it was back in the warm confines of Quinn’s throat. Slowly spreading Emmie’s legs he climbed atop her.

“Don’t be coy,” Mosi says, his attention shifting back to Emmie. “Tell her you love her.”

He’d come this far, and the fight was already gone from him. As he felt her tender entrance. “D-daddy?” Emmie says her one eye open, as if it wasn’t until this moment that she realized he was in the room with her. “Daddy what are y-”

“I love you Emmie,” he says slipping inside of her. Watching as his face contorted, confused by the intrusion, feeling her insides stretch to accommodate a girth that was significantly larger than his son’s or the portly Indian man. “I’m sorry but daddy loves you so much,” he says tears running down his cheeks.  He couldn’t stand to be here, like this, with her, a second longer than he had to and set himself to task.
 
His hips drawing back, pulling a soft coo of discomfort from Emmie who tried to wiggle away. His grip on her body tightening, adjusting so that his upper body kept her pinned to the disgusting mattress as his hips began hammering away at his daughter with short powerful strokes.

“Daddy nooooo,” she sobbed softly, unable to process why all of this was happening. First Jason, for hours Jason, and now… “OWWWW!” she squealed, not so much from the physical pain but the emotional pain as she writhed under his weight unable to escape his continuous jabs into her.

“Don’t fight baby please, I’ll be done soon,” he says no sure if his words are helping or harming. “Daddy loves you, just remember daddy loves you.” He whispers in her ear. His pale ass rose and fell, over and over until finally, he could feel it building.  The internal mental battle over his desire to cum, but not in his daughter. To end her suffering quickly, but trying not to hurt her.  Reminding her that he loved her while holding her to a bed and raping her. In a desperate attempt, she managed to free her hands from under him and pushed back, trying to create space to wiggle free. “STOP FIGHTING!” he roars, his mind torn as her dissent pushes his climax father away. He has no choice he couldn’t keep doing this. His hands grip her throat, squeezing hard, their eyes locking together as he let go of himself, not seeing his daughter under him, just an empty hole that needed to be filled.

He shook the bed with vicious grunts plowing into her with his entire body weight as he screamed he could feel himself pumping load after load into her. “Oh my go-” he said softly, stepping back off the bed leaving Emmie laying, her eyes staring off into the distance as cum dripped from her. Liam looked at his hands, covered in his son’s blood having just released his daughter’s throat, unsure how he could have done that to her. He stepped back, looking at Mosi who stood up, moving over to Emmie to inspect that Liam had actually finished.

“Acceptable,” he says as he nods to the guards who open the door revealing a line of nearly 30 men awaiting their chance to ‘taste the 12’. Liam rushed pass the crowd as the next man stepped from the queue into the room where Mosi and his men exited.

“Daddy?” Emmie whimpers breathlessly as the next two men enter closing the door behind them.
Liam made a beeline to the nearest trash can which was positioned by the bar, hurling his guts onto the crushed beer cans and empty bottles that had been collecting there all evening.

“That debt is paid, a life for the life your wife took,” Mosi says standing at the bar as Bear poured him another drink, this time an expensive gin on the rocks. “Now what are we going to do about your life?” Mosi asks sipping his drink.
Liam looks up shocked, unsure what more he has to offer. “You can’t be serious.”

“I assure you, I am,” Mosi says setting the drink down abruptly as a bell jingles in the background causing a chorus of cheers to emit from the room. Liam glances around to see the bell, recently placed outside Emmie’s room with a placard about reading, ‘ring for good service,’ and two more men entering her room with sick smiles across their faces.  “It would seem you have little use for your son.”

Liam shakes his head, “fine, do what you want with him, he’s not the man I raised him to be.” Liam says his face contorting at Jason’s vile act, deflowering Emmie, only for his brain to quickly remind him that he had just done the same thing.  The mental image of his hands around his daughter’s throat as he pumped her full of cum sent his head back into the trash can, emptying what was left of his dinner into the bin.

“I have no real use for the boy, but I believe Victor still believes a point needs to be made, his life will do in exchange for yours,” the king says as if closing the deal on a business venture as opposed to bargaining for lives.  “But I can assure you Emmie will have a bright future for herself in my country, she will be bred by our finest warriors and scholars. She will live a life many American women would be fortunate to have, she will want for nothing.” A heart-breaking scream echoes from Emmie’s room. “Well, after tonight of course.”

“Can I go now,” Liam says exhausted by the events of the night. Mosi nods, having nothing left to say to the man. Wiping his mouth, Liam stands, hearing the bell ring again, followed by cheers as one man left, three more entered. Hanging his head, he made his way out of the room and back through the dark hallway he’d entered from.

The bell rang again.

Epilogue: The Next Day

“So this is what 8 million buys?” Mosi laments walking through the empty halls of what used to be the DeWall Humanities building.  Valorie Rose had converted the basement into a submissive breeding kennel for wayward tweens the year prior and when Victor saw the opportunity to improve on an already good idea, he leaped at it.

All ten floors had been renovated to Vic’s exact specifications.  The previously dilapidated building was intended to be the new Rose-Banks Memorial Psychiatric Trauma Center, if Mosi approved. The first floor was a lavish reception area. High ceilings and polished marble floors gave the impression of wealth. A massive arched reception desk with freshly printed stationery on it gave way to a series of large conference rooms where prospective parents would be convinced to send their broken and grief-stricken daughters and sons to cope with their traumatic rapes and the shell of a person those experiences had left behind.

A commercial kitchen and ballroom on the west end provided appropriate space for hosting the larger galas that would undoubtedly occur.  It was designed to properly host up to 60 VIPs but with the right chef, surely, they could cram 75 maybe even 80 in. On the east end was a series of quiet rooms. They were designed for those with light or sound sensitivity to retreat to if events were becoming too overwhelming.

Victor designed the second floor for offices. 12 to be exact, large and fully furnished with designer hand-made pieces he had flown in from Chile. If there were to attract the best talent to the center they would have to offer the best amenities. The offices occupied most of the north and south end with a gym occupying the east.  He’d imagined either Hamm or Bear could handle running the gym until they could get around to hiring an actual professional but it was relatively low on the list. The west end was a fully stocked bar that was kept behind RFID key cards to prevent anyone who shouldn’t be indulging in such things from doing so.

The third floor was converted lofts for any of the staff who needed overnight stays.  For this Vic spared no expense, the finest Swiss amenities to go with handstitched linens.  The walk-in shower was the highlight of the 20x20 bathrooms with heated floors.  The rooms feature a pop-out TV that is hidden via a well-crafted armoire dresser set. Each room had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked campus and could be whited out via the control panel near the door for maximum privacy.

Floors four through nine were divided in half, on the north end [REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED] to ensure that they were unique for each occupant.  This was a crucial part of the therapy process and maintaining it was of paramount concern.  The South end held [REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED - REDACTED – REDACTED – REDACTED]

On the top floor were reserved offices and suites for Victor himself and the Chief Psychiatrist Xander Law. Dr. Law had received his B.S. in Psychology from Harvard and we onto Oxford to receive two Ph.D.’s in Psychology and Social Theory.  His work had been published for the last 30 years and he all but wrote the modern book on exposure therapy and cognitively distortive behavior. Privately he consulted for intelligence organizations around the world, the CIA, MI-6, and the FSK, which is where he met KGB’s father.

They spent some time together in Russia, practicing together, though it's unconfirmed, many believe their work may have laid the groundwork for modern low impact enhanced interrogation methods.  Their practice only ceasing when the funding dried up from the Kremlin.  Forced to identify new ways to practice what he decided was an art form he hopped from China to the Philippines, to Brazil, each time invading INTERPOL who had become rather interested in his goings-on following a number of his patients being left in catatonic states. With each country a new name, with each name a new practice, and with each practice…. new patients.


To be continued in new series… Working Title - Law[X]
☮, ♥ & Sodomy

Offline LtBroccoli

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Re: Klub Rape - Vol. 7 - Harm's Universe ©
« Reply #1 on: October 08, 2021, 10:06:37 AM »
Bravo, Bubbles.  Excellent work.  Absolutely incredible.
Always close the program you were running before exiting the holodeck