Twenty-nine more

The rest of the night proved to be an ordeal to say the least, Druuna’s fortitude not being strengthened by the fact that she would climax ever so often, something which would be brought to the attention of the bandits who would offer lewd commentaries about her loose character.

Every so often, someone would appear with a bucket of cold water that was tossed onto her, haphazardly cleaning the remains of the bandits’ ejaculations off her, only so that her wet skin could once again be sullied with more jizz as new men came in and fucked her.

In the end, she could do little more than to lie still on the ground, on her ass or on her stomach depending on which of her holes that the other party wanted to stick his cock into, while her pussy, asshole and mouth was used to bring them off, sending more cum landing on her nubile body.

Still, Druuna’s strategy of feigning something resembling consent was paying off for her, she hadn’t been hurt physically in any substantial way, and mentally she was coping thanks to her sheer will to get through this.

The men would maul and grope her tits and ass, or roughly stick a finger or two up her pussy, but that was not as bad as a broken arm or leg or a bashed nose.

Dawn broke, and by now most bandits were coming back for seconds. By now, the novelty of fucking her had worn off to the point that no one bothered pouring water onto her anymore, meaning that her appearance was soon turned into one of her skin being glazed with more or less dried-up jizz and her full head of jet-black hair being a tangled, greyish mess.

Eventually, a man ceased fucking her and no one took his place, leaving Druuna tired, weary and sobbing, but still alive and able to drift into a dark, dreamless rest.