One of the male guards pointed a crossbow to her stomach, letting her know that if she resisted, he’d shoot her and she would die an agonizing death... Danka obediently climbed up the ladder when the moment came. The guards secured her wrists and stretched her arms over her shoulders. Tears flowed down the dishonored girl’s cheeks as she felt the ankle irons wrap around her legs and heard the locks click shut. She was completely exposed, with her arms spread over her head and her feet resting on. Online, she could at least pretend she was attractive; here in reality, even with her best on, she was what she’d always been, all through high school. The frumpy one, the plain one, the one who sat on the sidelines, and watched the other kids dance. The wallflower, her mom had called her. And here again, the same thing - the men all flocked to the perky tits and big eyes, even when there was only vacuum between the ears. She wished she was not as intelligent as she was; maybe if she was. More

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