Someone else finds Cassie.

The rough stone scrapes against her bare back as she tugs desperately at the ropes. "Damn. Damn. Damn."

"You stupid bitch," she whispers to herself, her voice hoarse from her previous screams. "Shouldn't you have seen this coming?"

Her body trembles, not just from the cold, not just from exhaustion. But because... because she enjoyed it.

"Disgusting," she hisses between her teeth.

"I'm scum. Worth nothing." The words sting worse than the welts on her wrists. But she deserves it. Deserves every humiliation, every pain.

"Do I really still think I'm more than that?" she sneers into her own ear.

"A hole. Just a wet, willing hole." Her knees tremble as she tries to stand up. But the shackles on her ankles hold her down. Just as she deserves.

"Are you still begging in your head?" she mocks to herself.

"Are you secretly hoping he'll come back? That he'll use you even more?" Her breathing quickens. Her nipples are hard.

"Do you see? Even now. Disgusting.

"Cassie trembles in her restraints, the ropes burning her skin. Her thoughts circle, an endless stream of shame and anger. ("They were all right..."), she thinks, gritting her teeth.

"My stepmother said it. My sister said it: 'You're nothing but a cheap slut. And now ... Now you've proved it."

A cold laugh rises inside her.

"Chelsea and Vicky always knew. That's why they gave me these tattoos, isn't it? 'Freely available'. 'Use me' and whatnot. It's all true. They saw what I really am long before I knew it myself." But then a spark of resistance. ("No. That's not true. I was a good girl. A few days ago, I only had sex with one boy. I was practically innocent. I was ...")

("What you WERE?"), the voice in her head sneers. ("Look at you! Your body already counts in the double digits of fuck partners, and all because of those tattoos! Because they knew YOU before you knew yourself!")

She can feel the ink burning under her skin, as if the words were branding her.

("No ... I was **** ... I never wanted this ...")

("Liar!"), the voice screams back. ("Then why did you moan? Why did you beg? Why are you wet between your legs, even now that you're standing here alone, tied up?") Cassie pulls at the restraints, but they hold. Just like the truth.

"I ... I hate it..." she whispers.

("No. You hate yourself. Because you know they were right. Chelsea. Vicky. Your sister. All of them. They knew what you were made of. A little whore who was just waiting to be used.")

Suddenly a noise. Footsteps. Her heart races. Part of her wants to scream. But another part ... Another part is waiting.

She trembles in her bonds as the footsteps come closer. A strange laugh cuts through the silence.

"Well, there she is," grins the voice. "My buddy said I could use you. Is that true?"

She presses her lips together and doesn't answer.

"Hm." A dull knock - he taps her cheek with the back of his hand. "He also said you call yourself a 'public urinal'. Truth or lie?" "That ... I never said that ..."

"Okay." Suddenly the footsteps move away. "Then wait until he comes back, then I won't help you."

"WAIT!" Her heart is racing, this guy could free her.

"I ... I said it! I'm ... a urinal. Please, help me."

A long silence, then she hears: "Open your mouth." Cassie opens her lips, trembling, and the first jet hits her brutally on the shoulder. Warm, biting, and splashes into the side of her face. She flinches, chokes, but keeps her mouth open. She can't believe that the guy is really peeing on her.

"Fucking bitch, hold still," he growls as the urine runs down her neck and over her breasts. A few splashes hit her cheek, her lips, but nothing ends up in her mouth.

"Can't you even do that properly?" he laughs contemptuously as he stops. Cassie is still trembling, her mouth painfully wide open, when the stranger suddenly slides a hand between her legs. His fingers dig into her and his laugh is malicious as he feels the wetness.

"Oh? You didn't mention that," he sneers as he presses himself tightly behind her. His other hand grabs her hair, pulling her head back.

"Seems like you want to be used after all." Cassie shakes her head, trying to protest, but he spits into her open mouth. His spit tastes of cigarettes, beer and mold.

"Swallow. Now." She chokes, but his fingers in her hair leave ****. With a stifled moan, she obeys and swallows it, then feels him penetrate her hard and brutally from behind. No foreplay. No mercy. Just the painful thrust.

"I like you best like this," he growls as he takes her. "Tied up. Gagging. And completely helpless." Every thrust drives her forward.

Every thrust makes her moan. And again and again, when she thinks she can't take any more, he forces her to swallow his spit.

"Nice and deep, bitch," he laughs as she chokes. "That belongs in you now. Just like my cock." Cassie's body reacts, even as her mind resists. Her hands twitch in the restraints. Her hips thrust towards him. And her mouth ... Her mouth remains open.

Cassie's body is a contradiction in terms - trembling with shame but dripping with arousal, his hands digging into her hips as his hard cock fills her without pause. A stifled moan escapes her lips, but he doesn't give her time to collect herself. She hears his breath - hot and reeking of beer - in her ear. "Tell me how much you love swallowing my spit." Cassie shakes her head, her bound arms twitching uselessly. CLATCH His slap on her bare thigh makes her cry out.

"I ... I LOVE IT!" she squeezes out. "I LOVE SWALLOWING YOUR FUCKING SPIT!" He laughs and spits directly into her open mouth.

"Prove it. Swallow slowly. Let me see your throat twitch." She chokes, tears streaming from under the blindfold, but she obeys.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she forces her body to swallow the disgusting liquid. She feels his triumphant grin without seeing it. "Now beg!" he commands and begins to fuck her again, each thrust calculatingly hard. "Beg for more. Beg to be fucked!"

"PLEASE ... PLEASE MORE!" she moans in time with his thrusts. "More what?" He slows down, leaving her agonizingly empty.

"PLEASE FUCK ME HARDER! PLEASE USE ME LIKE A PIECE OF MEAT!"

"Well done," he sneers and gives her what she has asked for.

His hands clasp her neck, not ****, but threatening. "But don't forget what you are."

"I AM A USELESS FUCKHOLE!" she screams, her voice breaking.

"A PUBLIC URINAL! A BITCH THAT'S ONLY GOOD FOR THAT!"

He groans with satisfaction and speeds up. "Exactly. And afterwards?"

"AFTER THAT, I'LL STILL BE HERE!" she howls as if in ecstasy.

"I PROMISE! I'M ALL YOURS!" That's enough for him. With one last, brutal thrust, he comes inside her while Cassie continues to hold her mouth open ready for the next load of spit, but it doesn't come.

Without a word of farewell, Cassie hears footsteps moving away, Cassie still hanging tied up, her wrists aching from the ropes, her bare skin covered in a mixture of sweat, cum and dried urine.

The wind brushes over her, icy cold, but she barely feels it - not through the burn of shame eating her from the inside.

"You disgusting bitch," she whispers to herself, her voice a broken croak.Her tongue automatically passes over her lips - and immediately she gags. The taste. His spit. Still there. A disgusting, bitter film in her mouth. "Swallow it," he had ordered. And she had obeyed.

"You should have choked," she hisses at herself. "You should have choked. Choked to ****. Anything would have been better than this." But her body ... her damn body had just gone along with it. Had swallowed. Had even - she pressed her legs together as the memory swept through her - thrust her hips as he'd taken her from behind. Cassie gagged, her body writhing in the restraints as she desperately tried to rid herself of the sickening taste of his spit. Her stomach cramps, her throat tightens - but nothing comes. Just a dry cough, a **** sound that brings tears to her eyes.

"Please ... please don't ...", she gasps, while her saliva drips from her lips in thin threads. ("You didn't just obey"), hisses the voice in her head.

("You enjoyed. You moaned. You begged.")

A twitch between her legs. No. No, no, NO-but it's too late. Her skin is already hot, her breathing faster. She smells herself. Her own desire. ("See?"), the voice sneers. ("Even now. After all this. Your body wants more.")

Cassie tugs at the restraints, but they hold.