Kriss position was uncomfortable. The yoke and her ankles were resting on the metal frame of the bed while the rest of her body was resting on its coarse, worn, loose, stained canvas, which caused it to arch backwards noticeably. The yoke was forcing her head at an awkward angle while pressing continuously on the sores of her wrists and neck. Still, she had not slept for more than 24 hours now and her exhaustion combined to the whiskey to let her fall in a deep sleep. While Billing prepared her, she hardly moved at all. Her young body and mind were using the rest to recover from the heavy battering they had been subjected to.<br/><br/>The wake up was brutal. The bells rang in her ears, there was a hard shock in her skull as she slammed on the floor. Her eyes shot wide open as her brains emerged from the sleep and tried to remember where she was. She opened her mouth to moan and felt something shoved between her teeth and pushed deeper and deeper, parting her jaws painfully wide. Billing was sitting on her, hunched over her head as he tied something behind her neck. Her first reflex was to push him away but the yoke cruelly brought itself back to her memory.<br/><br/>Her confused, sleepy mind tried to sort out the new situation.<em>Where am I? What the fuck? Who's that? Wasn't he helping me? What is he doing?</em><br/><br/>She screamed through the large ring gag in protest but could not utter any coherent word. She glared at her aggressor. She tried to kick her knees in his back, but she lacked the leverage to do much damage. The bastard was sitting atop the bandaged wound of her branded belly, making it very painful to struggle.<br/><br/>At last she ceased her useless bucking and kicking. She could feel a strange feeling in her scalp, as if her hair had been braided, but she could not see what had be done to her, of course. Billing was looking at her with strange eyes, filled with lust, hate and some craziness. Again she tried to talk with him, to no avail. The gag was forcing her jaws so far apart the she was fearing the would be dislocated if she tried to fight it too much. Her lips were stretched very thin over her teeth.<br/><br/>As he told her he had recognised her, her heart sank in despair. She had not realised how much hate she had managed to generate in the previous years. She wanted to argue, to defend her point of view, to bribe him, but the gag ensured she could not say anything.<br/><br/>And then he showed his knife. She shivered as the cold blade touched the sweat-covered skin of her chest, as it slid under her tank top and bra, between the firm mounds of her breasts. And then her last piece of clothing, if one excepted her remaining shoe and her bandages, snapped off. Her proud boobs seemed to bounce up as they were released. She had always worn tight bras to ensure her breasts would not bounce too much when she was running and fighting. Suddenly, they were exposed in all their glory, with her darker areolae and hard nipples contrasting with her pale skin.<br/><br/>She wrinkled her nose as the man freed his cock and landed it on her chest. The sweaty, floppy, flaccid touch sickened her and she had to resist the urge to retch. Because of the yoke, she could hardly see it. She had to lift her head and press her chin against the wood to glance at her chest over her cheek bones. But she could feel the beast growing and swelling. Billing positioned it between her breasts and then pinched her nipples hard, bringing them together, wrapping her firm female flesh around the dick. She moaned from pain and disgust. She tried to utter a protestation, which once again came out like an incoherent babble.<br/><br/>And then Billing began to hump her breasts, rubbing his shaft between her hard-pressed boobs. Their sweats were mixing and providing lubrication. She could feel it grow even larger, while the hairy testicles rubbed back and forth against her skin. A fetid, fishy smell was attacking her flaring nostrils. Each thrust was grinding her sore back against the damp concrete. The pain in her nipples was burning. Droplets of sweat dripped from his face onto her.<br/><br/>The breast-fucking seemed to last for an eternity. Kriss was clenching her eyes, awaiting for him to cum, hoping he would leave her alone after that. But suddenly she was yanked by her hair and forced to sit up, and what followed was even worse. The turgid, purplish, pre-cum and sweat-covered cock was forced into her gaping mouth until it banged against the back of her throat. The next thrust propelled it even farther and Kriss' nose was flattened against the hairy, filthy crotch of her rapist.<br/><br/>And the rape continued. She could hardly breathe now as Billing rarely pulled his manhood enough to let air pass through. Her eyes bulged out, her face turned red. She felt the blood-gorged cock-head pounding against her gullet. She was gagging, she was retching, she was puking bile. As she could not expel it out of her mouth, she was forced to swallow it back, some of it making her cough as it flew back into her trachea. It also sometimes happened that some bile made it up her throat, from where the next thrust would piston it up her nose and down her nostrils.<br/><br/>Kriss was constantly kept on the verge of asphyxia. She had no longer enough air to moan. Instead she was producing hideous and strange noises that hardly sounded like coming out of a human mouth. Each pounding made her freshly pierced nose to bang and grind painfully against the man's pubis. She could not see anything else.<br/><br/>The mouth rape did not last long though. Suddenly, Billing shoved his manhood even deeper in his victim's throat and began to pump load after load into her. The sticky, warm stuff was spurted down her oesophagus and trachea, causing her to cough and retch helplessly. Kriss thought she was going to die, drowned in her own bile and the man's cum. Her belly was heaving in and out as she vainly tried to force air into her aching lungs. Her muscles were clenching hard as she tried to pull her arms out of the yoke once again. Her feet and legs were contorting and kicking the floor, to no avail.<br/><br/>At last the invading cock moved out of her mouth, followed by a thick, abundant gobble of saliva and bile, which formed an arching whitish rope between her stretched lower lip and the reddened shaft. Coughing and hick-uping, she puked torrents of slime down her gaping mouth and nostrils as she desperately tried to suck fresh air into her burning lungs.<br/><br/>Billing did not leave her time to recover. He half-dragged, half carried her out of the building and abandoned her in the middle of the street.<br/><br/>She was now completely naked, except for one boot and an old towel wrapped around her waist. Her proud breasts were now fully displayed, firmly pointing up, smeared with sperm, her cleavage slick with smelly slime. Something was pulling her hair down. At first she thought he had somehow bound her hair to the yoke but she quickly realised it was worse. He had bound weights to her hair and adorned them with barbs that clawed at her upper back whenever she moved her head. She could force her neck to straighten and lift the weight up, which allowed her to look straight forward, but she knew she would not be able to bear that strain for long and soon her face would be forced back, starring at the sky with her mouth gaping wide, the ring of wire coming from her septum resting across it. The only good things were that her branding wounds were less painful and she could now put more of her weight on her barefoot thanks to its bandaged heel and the flip-flop.<br/><br/>She had no idea how much time she had spent in the man's lair. Several hours at the least as she could see a faint glow appearing in the eastern sky. She had better walk as much as possible before the day came and the streets got busier.<br/><br/>Limping, lurching the yoke and its tinkling bells, trying to steer in the right direction without having to lift her head too often to rest her neck muscles, she continued her progression down the fifth avenue. After a dozen steps, she felt the towel begin to get loose around her hips. A few more paces after, it silently slid down her legs, leaving her stark naked.<br/><br/>She no longer cared about ringing her bells. However discrete she had tried to remain so far, she had always been heard and seen. Now she felt that she had better moving as fast as she could. And thus, with each step, the bells were ringing loud. At the same time, her own braided hairs were flogging her back and flanks with dozens of sharp barbs that soon covered her skin in bloody scratches. Her healed foot allowed her to walk faster now and she managed to walk through two blocks without making any bad encounter.