Kriss hated to be so helpless in the hands of that man. She could not even see who he was, how he looked like. But by the way he was panting, he must not have been much of a trained athlete. He kept mentioning he was a businessman and that would probably have made him somewhat overweight. The type of man she would usually have sent sprawled and puking with a single kick. And there she was entirely at his power.<br/><br/>At these thought, Kriss roared in frustration and humiliation. Her right leg kicked blindly in front of her and she dug the nails of her fingers into her palms.<br/><br/><strong>"Let me go!!!! Or you'll regret it!"</strong>she barked, although her strangled voice was not conveying much authority.<strong>"My friends will rip your balls and roast them if you don't free me right now!"</strong><br/><br/>The man continued to drag her backward, grunting and panting. And suddenly he dropped her and once again she fell, ungraciously, the yoke and her head banging on the floor. Once again she tried to lift the yoke, bracing on her feet, bridging her belly up, contorting her legs but never able to lift the heavy rail sleeper more than a couple of inches before its weight brought her back down. At some point the man touched her wounded heel with his shoe, causing her to yelp in pain and twist her leg away like cut-off worm.<br/><br/>When he lifted her off the ground, she tried to kick him with her feet but she had not enough momentum for that. Moment later, she felt that her yoke was hanging from something. She reached down with her toes but she could not touch anything, however thin she stretched her legs. Unbeknown to her, the tip of her feet was only inches from the concrete floor. As far as she was concerned though, it might have been miles away.<br/><br/>She was about to protest when he punched her in the back. The violence of the blow made her body swing forward and pain explode in her kidneys. She tried to kick backward with her booted foot but only met thin air. More punches rained on the small of her back and on her sides, each one making her jerk like a punching ball and moan in pain. The double-punch in her belly made her curl her legs upwards and let out a stream of bile out of her gasping mouth, which was stopped by her head bag and remained sticking against the lower part of her face. Winded, her belly screaming in agony, her legs fell back, twitching and swinging around loosely.<br/><br/>The pig used her lack of reaction to get closer, right against her back. She could feel his panting breath against her back, against the branded skin that was revealed by her torn tank top. And then his hands reached under her top and explored her breasts through her sport bra. She grunted in disapproval and squirmed a little, but she was still winded and too weak to really oppose any resistance. Her mouth was gaping wide under the bag as she was still trying bring back air into her burning lungs through her strangled throat.