Ogre's cock was a monster. Even if Kriss' vulva had not been stitched closed, the rape would have been painful. She felt torn open, ripped apart. She was banging her roller skates into the man's back to little effect. With each of his thrusts she was yelping with pain.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, the older man had prepared his instruments and was approaching her face with his barbarous tool. She tried to turn her face away but the other man had clamped his knees on both sides of her head and she could not move. The black, dripping points got closer to her eyes, which were now wide open with terror. Ink rested the points on her forehead and using a piece of wood as a hammer, began to tap it into her skin.<br/><br/>Kriss had never been tattooed and she did not know what the old man was doing. To her, it felt as if he were trying to hammer the dirty nails into her skulls. She got frantic and squirmed with all the strength she could muster, arching her back away from the tree stump, fiercely jerking and kicking her legs, and contorting her arms as much as she could. Each blow of the "hammer" was echoing through her skull and she felt blood running down her brow. The pain was not so intense, but the idea of having her skull broken open was terrifying.<br/><br/>She was so scared that she barely noticed Orge spurting his semen into her raw vagina. At some point he moved out of her and this she felt as a great relief as her vagina was allowed to take again its natural shape and she was no longer crushed under his weight.