You get grabbed

A strong arm wraps around your waist from behind and yanks you into hardened muscle. Before you can scream, a rough hand clamps over your mouth.

“Did you really think we wouldn't see you?” a low voice growls in your ear.

You struggle wildly, but he’s too strong. He drags you backwards between two tall stacks of crates, pinning your body against his chest. The fear is in your head, chest, and everywhere, and you realise all at once what a situation you've find yourself in.

“You’re ours now,” he whispers, already sliding his other hand around your back.

Before long, the others have found their way to you, taking you deeper inside the warehouse. Your consciousness grows dim as a rough hand moves around your neck. And soon, the thugs seek to find suitable accommodation for one such as yourself...

After a while, you wake up naked on a pile of old sacks, changed into a newfound set of clothes. You're wearing a ragged linen dress, brutally short, reaching just a slight beyond your butt. No doubt, cut from some spare burlap sack they have around.

An iron collar has been fitted around your neck, with a rusty chain connecting it to a nearby pole. It's cold, heavy, and humiliating. As you move around the space, barely a step, the sound of a creaking door can be heard, and four men soon enter.

They circle you like prey. Their figures, casting long shadows. They're not subtle with their intentions either.

Soon their rough hands explore your body without mercy. One squeezes and feels your breasts, pinching your nipples until they are hard and aching. Another runs his calloused fingers over your ass. A third slid his fingers between your thighs, stroking your pussy lips and rubbing slow circles over your clit.

They touch you everywhere.

Groping. Squeezing. Teasing. Fingers trace your collarbones, pinch your inner thighs, squeeze your nipples, and dip just barely inside you only to quickly pull away. They spend a long time doing this to you, as if in preparation for something else.