Charlotte's Taken Fantasy

Charlotte sits across from the therapist, legs crossed tight, and the words start pouring out. Inside her skull a different scene runs hot. She’s already stripped, wrists locked to her ankles, face down on the floor. Hands grab her. One man forces her mouth open, pushes deep, and the next one waits right behind him, fist in her hair. Spit runs down her chin, thick strings breaking as they slap her cheeks, call her names, laugh when she chokes. Another cock slams into her ass—hard, bare, no pause—and she yelps around the shaft still lodged in her throat. Her body jerks between them, airtight, no space to breathe. The men take turns switching holes, never letting her settle, each thrust rougher than the last. She comes the first time with tears on her face and cum dripping from both ends, and they don’t slow down. They use her until the fantasy blurs into one long, violent blur of flesh, noise, and the sting of open palms on her ass.