London River: The Interrogation

Five thick bastards circle her in that freezing black room. London River’s strapped to the chair, wrists raw, tits heaving under the harsh glare. They bark questions. She spits back denials. That’s the spark. A gloved hand slaps her face. Another rips her top open. Electricity bites her nipples and she jerks, cursing through clenched teeth. Then the zippers come down. One cock slaps across her cheek, another yanks her hair, forcing her mouth open. She gags, drool running, while a second guy shoves in from the side. They fuck her face until tears streak mascara down her chin. Hands tear the rest of her clothes away, spreading her thighs. A thick cock rams into her cunt; she grunts, half pain, half hunger. Another presses at her asshole, forces past the ring, and suddenly she’s split wide, two dicks grinding deep while the others jerk off and wait their turn. The men rotate, switching holes without mercy. One yanks out of her ass, shoves straight into her throat, the taste sharp and filthy. She chokes but they hold her head steady. The double anal comes next: two cocks stretching her rear at once, the gape glistening every time they pull free. She’s gasping, body shaking, while another load paints her tongue, her tits, her open mouth. More follow. Hot spurts stripe her cheeks, her hair, until her face is slick and dripping, eyes half-lidded, still swearing she doesn’t know a fucking thing.