They fuck her

The actor reaches down and grabs Amara's hair, pulling her to her feet. He spins her around, and the director rips off her dress, leaving her naked and exposed.

The other men in the room close in, their eyes gleaming with excitement. The actor forces her to her knees, his grip on her hair tightening as he pulls her head back. The director steps forward, his erection jutting out from his pants. He forces Amara's mouth open, pushing his penis inside. Amara gags, her eyes watering as the director starts to thrust into her mouth. The actor behind her pulls her hips back, forcing her to arch her back. He enters her from behind, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The other men in the room watch, their eyes fixed on Amara's body as she is ****. One of them steps forward, his hand reaching out to touch her breast.

The man behind her twists her nipple between his fingers, causing her to wince in pain. Another man comes up behind him, his hand reaching around to grope her other breast. The room is filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the slapping of flesh against flesh. Amara's mind is in a haze, her body numb to the pain and pleasure that is coursing through her. She feels like a rag doll, being passed around and used for their own sick desires.

The director pulls out of her mouth, his penis glistening with her saliva. He grabs her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

His eyes are blazing with anger and desire, his face twisted into a cruel grin. He slaps her hard, the sound of his palm hitting her cheek echoing through the room. Amara's head jerks to the side, her eyes watering from the pain. The men in the room cheer, their voices filled with excitement and lust.

The actor behind her pulls out, his penis still erect. He spins her around, his eyes fixed on her breasts. He grabs them, squeezing them hard, his fingers digging deep into her skin. Amara cries out in pain, her body numb to the ****. The director steps forward, his penis still erect.

He laughs, a cold, mirthless sound, and spits in her face. The saliva drips down her cheek, mixing with her tears.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" the actor sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "You love this, don't you?" He twists her nipple again, and Amara winces in pain. The other men in the room laugh, their voices echoing off the walls.

The director grabs her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You're nothing but a toy, a plaything for us to use and discard," he says, his eyes blazing with anger and desire. "You're lucky we're even bothering with you."

Amara's eyes fill with tears, but the men in the room become upset with her display of emotion. One of them steps forward and kicks her in the stomach, causing her to double over in pain.

"No crying," he snarls, his eyes narrowed with anger. "You're here for our pleasure, not your own."

The director grabs a handful of Amara's hair, pulling her back to her feet. She tries to stand, but her legs are weak, and she falls to the ground again.

"Get up," the actor growls, his voice low and menacing. He grabs her arm, yanking her to her feet.

The director and another man each take one of her arms, and they drag her over to the bed. The other men in the room gather around, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

The director pushes her down onto the bed, and the two men climb on top of her. She struggles, but they are too strong. One of them grabs her legs, spreading them apart. The other man positions himself behind her, his erection pressing against her anus.

"Please, no," Amara whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper. But the men don't listen. The one behind her pushes inside her, causing her to cry out in pain.