A moment later the leg of John’s worn blue jeans caught on a bit of rusted wire.  It tore open a small hole.  John swore - just the fucking thing he needed was to ruin a pair of pants, which were too damn hard to find these days - but then he got an idea.  He wasn’t a particularly clever man, even he could admit that, but in the Old Days he used to make jewelry and had done a fair bit of twisting wires into shapes and forms.  Back then it had been fine silver and custom designs, but like everything else, he’d make do with what he had.<br/><br/>Leaning down, he picked up the wire; it was an old coat hanger, rusted but still flexible.  John pulled out a multitool - his pride and a mark of his wealth as a captain, it was only missing a couple pieces and had a functional knife, even.  He used the tip to cut the wire off at a sharp point.  "Hey, boyos, hold her still.  I've got something fun in mind."  He wiggled his eyebrows, a kid about to pull a prank, and they all laughed.  When he moved in, though, John made damn sure the murderer’s legs were pinned down before moving in front - a kick could ruin his whole night, and his wife's too, for that matter. Then he felt around the cloth on the side of the prisoner's head until he found her ear.<br/><br/>"Hold her fucking head still!"<br/><br/>He jammed the sharpened end through her lobe with a grunt of effort - it wasn't as easy to jam it through the cloth and flesh as he thought it would be, and pulling the rough wire through the hole took some force.  At least he got to enjoy the girl's reaction while he took out his tool again.  A bit of clever twisting and there was enough of a ring to hold the thing in place, and still a couple more feet of wire to work with.  Now, at least, he could control the girl's head better - if she jerked away too hard she'd lose her whole fucking ear.  Leaving a hoop dangling down, John lined up the pointed end again, this time through the cloth and the girl's septum.  It took a bit of doing; the cartilage was high, and the nares had to be forced wide.  Finally, fed up, he just swore and shoved the wire through with the satisfying crunch of hard cartilage, a sound like a raw egg dropped on the floor.<br/><br/>It still didn't line up as well as he'd hoped, which he blamed on the bitch moving around and whining so much – it was amazing she could make any noise with how little breath she must be getting - so John had to jerk it around a bit and finally used the pliers again to get it all the way through.  A few more bends brought in the dangling length on each side of her nose, twisting them together beneath the septum.  Rust cracked off as he worked, the smell of iron strong from it and the rivulets of blood trickling steadily from beneath the hood.<br/><br/>The last piercing was through the opposite ear.  He used the lobe again, liking the sense of symmetry, and managed the stab with a bit less effort; it seemed he was getting better with practice.  It left just enough wire for another few turns, securing that end as well.<br/><br/>Stepping back, John admired his handiwork.  It wasn't like the jewelry he used to make, in a different life, but for a coat hanger it didn't look half bad.  The overall effect was two rings through each ear, joined to a coil beneath the girl's nose, with one hoop going up to pierce her septum and the other, larger hoop hanging down over her mouth.  It had an interesting effect, a sort of metal Indian exotic thing, and the other men gave grudging words of approval although they still looked a bit confused about the purpose.<br/><br/>John scooped up a few old trash bags - he didn't have any rope on hand, and anyways it was too valuable for a use like this - and knotted them together, and then to the bottom hoop.  "Makes a lead, see?  Can stay out of kicking range, but still lead the bitch with a tug.  Probably a really fucking painful tug, too!"  He chuckled a bit, and demonstrated by jerking the lead around  and then guiding the captive in a few circles.  After letting a couple others try it, John's impatience began to war again with the thrill of his own cleverness.  "Lets get a move on, boys."<br/><br/>They continued through the compound, then out through an old cargo container that served as the passage through the wall.  The air outside the compound seemed to smell different, just a few feet away from the safety of patrolled walls; John always hate it.  "Around the block.  Any of you that want can fuck her there, then we'll get back inside."  He jerked the girl along after him, eager to be rid of her and tired of her slow, sniveling pace.<br/><br/>The spot he chose for his men to rape her was an old fountain.  It was empty now, of course – the plumbing hadn’t worked in fucking ever – but the rim was a nice height to bend a girl over.  He’d even taken his wife here once, when they were younger and more adventurous: the journey a bit outside the walls for a bit of carnal fun was a common dare among the kids.<br/><br/>John pulled the bitch forward to the lip, dragging down on the lead to bend her over before tying it off to a bit of old plumbing.  “Get it over with, we don’t have all fucking night.”  It never even occurred to him that the position pushed her freshly branded stomach right up against the fountain edge, where every thrust would make it grind and rub.<br/><br/>Four of the other men took advantage of the opportunity for a bit of cunt and ass.  They undid her belt, pulling her pants and underwear to her ankles and stepping up, one by one, to shove their filthy cocks into the exposed holes.  The rest laughed, at first, and gave joking advice, but they grew bored midway through the second rape.  After that it was mostly silence, except for a bit of a laugh when the third guy opted for her asshole instead and earned a particularly notable exclamation.<br/><br/>It was the last man who took forever.  He complained about everything, too; that her holes were too stretched out to be any use, that the copious dripping rivulets of other men’s cum were grossing him out, and that shit and blood and piss were everywhere.  Eventually he shivered a bit, his cock expunging a token jet of white semen onto the girl’s thighs, and then he zipped up.  “Goddamn, for such a hot ass you’re a fucking lousy lay, bitch.”<br/><br/>They took a moment to put the slut’s pants back on – not out of kindness, but because they weren’t technically supposed to be gang raping her and if anyone was watching, the pants thing made it a bit too obvious.  John thought about just leaving her like that – tied and bent over – but after a couple minutes of discussion they figured that if her corpse started rotting here they would probably smell it from the gates, which wasn’t fair to the guards there.  Jerking the plastic bags loose, John gave her an almost affectionate pat on her well fucked ass.  “Good luck.  Sorry I didn’t give you a turn, too, nothing personal – wife just wouldn’t like it if I didn’t come home ready, you know?”<br/><br/>With a last round of slurs and jokes, the guards headed back towards the safety of the compound.<br/><br/>