Khaiya fought. She fought as much as she could in her weak, trembling state, as Selka and Mei both unchained and moved her, and chained her again, but her struggles were for naught. She found herself on her hands and knees and a thrill went through her, her body aching for more even as she felt sick, felt like she could vomit if she had anything in her to throw up. She shifted against the chains, trying in vain to rise back up, sobs or terror and shame choking in her throat, but she was trapped.
And soon, she felt a second metal cock at her ass--and let out a strangled cry as it pushed inside her, even while the first slid into her sex.
She hated it. And she loved it. All at once, the two feelings roiled inside her, the pain and humiliation fighting against the artificial pleasures of the flesh. She had never liked anal, ever. She had given it a try with a very persuasive partner, and had found she didn't like it, and had never done it since. She hated it now, hated how it felt, and yet her drugged body loved it and she could hear herself crying out, moaning and screaming even as she clenched her eyes shut, trapping the tears there, and willed it to end. Willed it to be over.
Willed herself to die.
She couldn't do this. Fuck, she couldn't do this. She wanted to die even as she heard her voice cry out for more, a voice that surely couldn't have belonged to her, and she sobbed as her head swam and her nerves sang. She couldn't do this. This couldn't be happening to her. This couldn't be her life. She couldn't do this.