Your own words doom you

Your words become more urgent and frantic, almost panting as you feel the old air against your exposed body, your hands held behind you as your feet shuffle from linoleum onto rough pavement.

"Please. No, please don't. Give me clothes, let me go..."

The air hardens your nipples to attention, contrasting with the heat you feel from the hands now rubbing you. There are now six hands on your body; one holding your hair and hands behind your back, two more smacking your ass, and four others at your tits, pussy, and thighs, accenting and giving your words more desperation as you are pulled near a lampost, putting you on full display.

"Please, please, don't give me clothes...let me go...."

Your voice is breathier, your body bucking against the hands of the men molesting you,riding the fingers daring to penetrate you as your plea changes from one of protest into one of dark submission.

"Please, please......don't give me clothes....don't let me go...."

Their hands push harder, and farther, and you struggle not to yell the words as your ass gets grabbed and smacked, one final yank on your hair forcing your eyes open as the whisper in your ear becomes ominous, and the tension carnal. The current in your body is electric even as your mind forces you to struggle against the unrelenting grips on your body.

"Yell it."

"Please, please....don't give me clothes....don't let me go!" You struggle defiantly, egging them on further as you feel your ass get smacked again.

"Louder." Some of the hands pull back, but only to undo zippers as you give in to the inevitable, fighting them while giving in at the same time.

"Please, please..." you shout, a cock shoving itself into your embarrasingly wet cunt, and in front of you as the hand on your hair release you, only for someone else to pull your mouth down on a waiting cock, and your eyes see how many of them are surrounding you, wanting you, watching you get plundered on a public street for all to see....