She still couldn't move, but the ropes no longer hurt her skin; skin that was battered, bruised and covered in cum. She didn't remember being tied up and her tears had mixed with the dirt, forming a small patch of mud under her face. The world was cold and silent, and thoughts of freedom filled her mind. Sobbing quietly, she tried to rest for strength.

An eternity later, she heard the men speaking. Her body was facing away from them, but the camp was set up to comfortably carter to them all. In the centre of the tents sat a small fire, and the men around it talking. She could hear the men talking but could only understand one of them. Her mind was too blank to search it for details about the owner of the voice.

"Are you sure she's okay?.. But... We should still check... Yeah you're right, she was clear about that... Fuck you all, I'm doing it. I don't care about that shit. Don't fucking touch me!" Storming away from them, Muscles appeared and calmly scooped her up her. Neither of them spoke as he walked with her, laying her down on a blanket next to the fire. Warming some some water, he untied her and began washing her body with a sponge. He started with her torso, paying extra special attention to her nipples.

Her eyes were closed when he started washing her face. One eye, two eyes, rinse. Nose, cheek, cheek, rinse. Forehead, chin, rinse. Muscles put a finger under her chin and lifted up her head. "Look at me."

Opening her eyes as he washed her neck gently, she smiled. He sensually washed the rest of her body, admiring the woman laid bare before him. Rolling her, she realised how weak she was; he realised how much she had taken. All of her energy had been redirected to stopping the forming bruises and she was lightheaded. He ran his hand through her hair and leant in.

| CHOICES |

• "We really did a number on you. Are you okay?"
• "Let's clean that dirty pussy."