The room is thick with the sound of your father’s sobbing and the wet, rhythmic slapping of palms against your skin. The man groping your pussy lets out a low, predatory hiss, his fingers hooking into the edge of your panties and tugging them aside to get a direct feel of your wet heat. He doesn't care about your shock or your trembling; he only cares about the way your heart-shaped ass quivers under his touch. "Such a tight little thing," he grunts, his eyes roaming over your flushed face as he deliberately digs his fingers deep into your folds. "Your father might be a failure, but he certainly bred a perfect little slut for us to play with." The degradation is absolute, a calculated stripping of your dignity in front of the one person who should have been protecting you, but who can only watch in agony as you are treated as a piece of meat.

You try to pull your dress to cover your panty and pussy, and tell them to let you go, they all just laugh,