Explore inside

Emily crept through the open doorway, running shoes crunching softly on the grit-strewn tile floor. The inside of the building was hollowed out by time—graffiti on every wall, shattered glass underfoot, vines creeping in through cracked bricks. Sunlight slashed through broken windows in narrow golden blades.

She moved slowly. The air smelled of rust and wet leaves. A damp draft kissed her bare midriff through the ripped window slats.

Then she heard it—a sound that didn’t belong to the wind or birds or creaking walls. A low groan. Rhythmic. Male.

Emily inched forward and peered around a corner, just enough to see.

Four people. All naked.

Two men had a woman between them—one behind, one in front, her legs spread wide, braced against a broken bench. The third man stood a few feet away, watching intently, one hand idly stroking himself. The girl’s face was flushed. Her breasts bounced with every thrust. Her mouth was open in a silent cry.

Emily froze.

Something hot flooded her stomach. The sight was obscene, raw, shocking—and more than that, it hit some nerve in her, twisted and deep. Her thighs clenched. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t look away.

Almost without thinking, her hand brushed up beneath her sports bra, fingertips grazing her nipple through the tight black fabric. A jolt ran through her. She sucked in a breath, lightheaded. Her free hand slid down, hooking under the waistband of her shorts just enough to press in against herself—barely, lightly, testing.

The heat between her legs pulsed stronger.

She bit her lip.

But then she looked again—closer this time.

The girl’s wrists were being held. Her movements didn’t match the rhythm. Her eyes weren’t focused. Her hips didn’t meet the thrusts.

Emily blinked.

And then the girl looked up—eyes wild, mouth forming a soundless no, and the man behind her drove into her again.

Emily’s chest seized.

It wasn’t consensual.

She gasped—loud, sharp, involuntary.