Dhaka Univercity Student

She wasn’t his bride, after all. And certainly not his wife. She walked back to her chamber, almost in a hurry, and dressed herself hastily. She yearned to feel the sun again, to walk in brightest daylight amid flora and fresh air, to taste again a bit of this freedom she had had to renounce so long ago... Out into the Renaissance garden, at least! Down she ran along the rose garden, opening her nostrils to the sweet scent of the diverse roses. Every now and then she would cup a flower’s head in her hands, to smell it and smile with the pleasure of recognition. Her beloved rosarium... She walked to the fountain in the very centre of the garden, sat down on the stone in her white tunic-like dress, the slender cypresses behind her back. Closing her eyes in the brilliant sunlight for a moment, there was something like a dream memory hitting her... The dark chamber, the torture room... A black thing in the corner, what was that? Had she truly seen it the night before...? Just opposite. He looked satisfied at her grimace and the tears leaking from her eyes. He pushed her against the second man, and he was against the wall. She was sandwiched between them and conveniently where Patrick had no choice but to watch in horror. “Please!” she cried, “Please, just don’t…” He grabbed his own dick, exploring until he found the entrance to her pussy, the second man reaching around to fondle her sore breasts. The first man suddenly thrust, and his eight inch, unnaturally thick cock was shoved into her pussy; he waited for her reaction. She bit her lip, trying to hold in the pain and the shame, but she finally broke when the man behind her insterted the tip of his dick into her tight, virgin ass hole. She cried out, her pussy not accustomed to such girth and her rectum CERTAINLY not accustomed to any foreign object, “Please!” she begged, “Please!!!” The man in front of her pumped in and out, in and out, biting her nipples and grabbing her ass cheeks as the man behind her.
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