The forest air was already cooling, smelling of pine needles, damp earth, and the smoke from the fire I'd long ago extinguished. I crawled into my sleeping bag, buried my nose in the cool nylon of the tent, and tried to read on my phone. Silence. Only the wind in the pine treetops and some distant, unfamiliar sounds. I felt like such a brave traveler, so independent. Alone in the forest. Independent, no fucking way. The first thing that alerted me was the creak of a branch. Not a natural sound, but a loud, cracking one. I froze and listened. My heart suddenly responded with a dull thump in my temples. "An elk," I immediately reassured myself, "or a boar. They don't attack first." Then I heard voices. Men's. Rough, slightly hoarse, interrupting each other. They were getting closer. And through the thin tent awning, I saw three dark figures, illuminated by the moon. They were walking straight toward me. "Oh God, no. No-no-no..." I pressed myself against the floor, holding my breath, as if that would help. As if they couldn't see my acid-green tent from a mile away. "Oh, look who's come to visit us!" a deep bass voice boomed right above my head. The tent shook from the impact of the guy line. "Hey, who's there? Come on out, my dear, let's meet!" Laughter. Rough, undisguised. My toes went cold. "I... I'm not alone!" I cried, my voice trembling treacherously. "My boyfriend will be back soon!" "Oh, how scary," mimicked another voice, younger and more brazen. "We'll wait for you. Come out, or we'll tear the tent apart. It won't be good." I didn't move. A paralysis of fear gripped my entire body. The last straw was the sound of a zipper unzipping. Long, sharp, like a scream. The flashlight beam hit me right in the face, blinding me. “Well, here we meet,” said the first one. I saw three of them. The oldest, the one with the deep voice, was large, with a weathered face and a thick stubble. The second was skinny, with a predatory gaze and a crooked grin. The third, silent, simply stared at me with wide eyes, like a child with a new toy. He was tall and broad-shouldered. "Guys, please," I tried to crawl further into the tent, but it was tiny. "I have money... Cigarettes... Take them and go." "We'll take the money," the skinny one grinned, peering inside at me. "And you too. So juicy, all alone in the forest. You asked for it." He grabbed my leg and pulled me sharply toward the exit. I screamed, my fingers digging into the sleeping bag, into the rug. Dirt clogged my nails. I fought back, kicked, but there were three of them. They were strong. They laughed while I sobbed. I was dragged out onto the cold ground. The pine needles dug into my back through my thin T-shirt. “Hold her,” the elder one said to the skinny one. He pinned my wrists to the ground with his bony hands. I was immobilized. The older man leaned over, and his rough fingers grabbed the hem of my T-shirt. A sharp tug—and the fabric tore with a soft, silky crunch. Then he tugged at the elastic of my shorts and pulled them and my panties down my legs. I closed my eyes, trying to retreat into myself, but the cold night air on my bare skin brought me back to the nightmare. “Beauty,” he croaked, and his rough palm lay on my stomach, then crawled down to my pubis. I screamed again, and the elder spat in my face. Warm, thick saliva ran down my cheek. — Shut up. If you scream, it will get worse. The skinny guy who was holding me leaned towards my ear. - Come on, bro, have fun. We'll deal with you later. The older man unzipped his fly. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. His cock was huge, thick, veined. It was already hard. He pointed it toward me, toward the rawest force of my body. “No… please…” was all I could squeeze out of myself. He didn't answer. He pushed my legs apart with his shoulder, leaned down, and I felt a dull, burning pressure. He entered me without warning, without caresses, in one powerful, tearing thrust. The pain was sharp and deafening. I howled, but he was already moving inside me, deep, all the way to the edge, hitting my womb with each stroke. His belly slapped against my thighs, his breathing became heavy and hoarse. I lay there, looking through tears at the pine trees and stars above his head. He fucked me methodically, cruelly, as if he were pounding the earth. I smelled sweat, cheap moonshine, and his skin. “Fuck, it’s so tight,” he groaned, speeding up. He came quickly, with a low groan, pouring a stream of hot, sticky sperm inside me. He pulled out his soft cock, and I felt the cum leak out of me onto the ground. “Now it’s my turn,” the skinny one said immediately. He let go of my hands and pushed me onto my side, almost onto my stomach. I tried to crawl away, but he grabbed my hips. — Where are you going? We've only just begun. I felt his fingers dig into me, spreading my buttocks. Then I felt something hard and sharp at the very forbidden entrance. "No! Not there!" I started to cry hysterically. "Exactly there," he spat on his hand, lubricated his cock and placed it against my anus again. "Relax, sweetie, or it will hurt." The pain was a thousand times worse. He entered slowly, persistently, tearing me apart. I screamed until my voice gave out. He entered fully and began to move, his thin hips slamming bukvoeb.run against my ass. It was a dry, burning hell. He moaned, cursed, and grabbed my hair, pressing my face to the ground. I choked, pine needles and earth filling my nose and mouth. He came on my back in hot, sticky streams. I lay there motionless, covered in sperm, tears, and dirt. I thought it was all over. The third, silent one, came up to me and turned me onto my back. His face was strangely focused. “Open your mouth,” he said quietly. I didn't understand. He ran his thumb over my lips, forcing them apart. Then he brought his cock to my face. It wasn't as huge as the first one, but it was hard and smooth. “Suck,” he ordered. I resisted, clenching my jaw. He grabbed my hair and forced my mouth onto his cock. He went deep into my throat, and I started gagging. Drool ran down my chin. He began moving his hips, fucking my throat. I couldn't breathe, tears streamed down my face. He looked down at me, and there was a strange curiosity in his eyes. He used my mouth for a long time, changing the rhythm, sometimes going deep into my throat, sometimes hitting my tongue. Then he pulled out abruptly and came on my face, on my lips, on my closed eyelids. They laughed, looking at me. At what I had become. "So, slut, did you like it?" the older man asked, lighting a cigarette. I didn't answer. I just lay there, staring at the night sky, no longer seeing the stars. I was just a piece of flesh, used and discarded. They searched the tent, took the money and the phone, and left, their laughter echoing from the thicket for a long time. And I lay there. Covered in their sperm, with pain between my legs and deep in my soul. The forest became quiet again. But now this silence was the most terrible thing in the world.