“Dad, why are we moving again?” A 16 year olds Gwen asked, her voice muffled by the cardboard box she held.

Her father, Peter, paused his frantic packing to look at her. The bags under his eyes seemed to have deepened overnight. “It’s just time for a change, Gwen,” he replied, his voice strained.

Gwen had always been a daddy’s girl, but lately, he had been distant, preoccupied with something she couldn’t quite understand. The doorbell rang, a harsh sound that sliced through the tension in the room. Peter’s eyes widened, and he bolted to the door.

“Stay here,” he hissed at Gwen.

She heard the muffled voices of unfamiliar men in the hallway. Their words were low, but she could feel the seriousness behind them. Gwen peeked into the living room, watching her dad’s shoulders slump as the conversation grew more intense.

The men were large, dressed in dark suits. Their expressions were stern, their eyes cold and calculating. They glanced around the apartment, taking in the meager furniture and the half-packed boxes as if sizing up the value of their surroundings.

“Look, I’m good for it,” Peter said, his voice shaking slightly. “I just need more time.”

The taller of the two men, with a scar that curled from his ear to the corner of his mouth, stepped closer. “Mr. Hart, we’ve given you plenty of time,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “Our patience has run out. We need the money, or we need something of equal value.”

Gwen’s stomach knotted as the man’s gaze drifted towards her. “Hm, I think there’s a way your debt can be paid”

The shorter, stockier man followed his companion’s line of sight and sneered, noticing Gwen’s wide-eyed stare.

“What do we have here?” he said, taking a step in her direction.

Panic surged through Peter’s body as he stepped in front of her, shielding her with his own. “You leave her out of this, please” he said shakily, his hands balled into fists.

The taller man’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting from Gwen to Peter. “This isn’t a negotiation, Mr. Hart. You’ve made your choice, and now you face the consequences.”

Before Peter could react, the man with the scar lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Peter. Despite Peter’s desperate struggles, the tall man easily overpowered him, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. The air was forced from Peter’s lungs with an audible thud.

The shorter man took advantage of the distraction and grabbed Gwen by the wrist. She screamed and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. He wrenched her arm, twisting it painfully behind her back as he dragged her into the center of the room.

Her dad, now handcuffed on the floor, yelled for them to stop, his eyes wild with fear and desperation. “Take anything, just leave her alone!” he begged, his voice cracking.

The stocky man holding Gwen sneered as he tore the fabric of her shirt, the sound of the material ripping echoing in the small apartment. She struggled against his grip but his strength was overwhelming.

“Daddy!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with fear. Peter’s eyes bulged with horror as he watched the scene unfold. The scarred man leaned down, his breath hot against her cheek, whispering, “You’re going to watch us fuck your sweet little daughter, as a punishment for not paying us on time” His words were a knife in Peter’s soul.

The stocky man’s rough hands pushed her down onto the hard floor. He wasted no time in tearing away the rest of her clothing, leaving Gwen exposed and trembling. His tongue snaked out, licking the tears that trailed down her face.

“So pretty,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with malice.

His hands moved to her small breasts, squeezing and kneading the tender flesh. Her skin crawled with as his wet mouth closed around one of her nipples, sucking and biting down hard. She cried out, the pain shooting through her body. The taller man knelt beside her, his scarred face a mask of twisted pleasure. He took the other nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Gwen’s body responded despite the fear, her breath hitching as her nipples grew hard and sensitive.

Her father’s pleas grew more frantic, his body thrashing against the floor. “Please, no! Stop!” His voice was raw with desperation. The veins bulging in his neck as he strained against the handcuffs that held him in place.

The stocky man’s meaty hand slid down her trembling stomach to her most private area. Gwen’s breath caught in her throat as his rough fingers began to rub her virgin pussy. She felt the wetness seep out of her, a mix of fear and an unwanted arousal. She tried to close her legs, to shield herself from their probing hands, but the other man held them apart.

The scarred man chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Looks like she’s ready for us,” he said to his partner, who grinned back.

“Let’s break her in good.” The stocker one said.

Gwen felt a thick, calloused finger pushed into her, making her gasp. Her eyes watered as the man’s digit invaded her, stretching her. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her moan. But it was too much. She couldn’t hold it in.

“Look at your daughter, Hart,” the scarred man taunted, his voice low and vicious. “Look how wet she is.”

With a sickening feeling, Peter forced his eyes to at Gwen’s wet cunt. The tall man’s hand was on the back of her neck, pushing her face into the carpet. The stocky man’s finger was buried deep within her, pumping in and out with a cruel rhythm. Peter felt a part of himself die as he watched.

Each sob and moan that tore from her lips was a dagger in Peter’s heart, a reminder of the unspeakable price of his mistakes. The men took turns kissing, sucking licking Gwen. The scarred man now behind her, his pants unbuckled, his erection pressing against her exposed flesh. The stocky one held her down, his hand on her throat, chuckling as she writhed beneath them.

“Please, Stop,” Peter choked out, his voice barely audible.

The scarred man ignored him, his pants now around his ankles. He grabbed Gwen’s hips, his thick, veiny cock nudging against her entrance. She screamed, her body tensing, but the stocky man’s hand tightened on her neck, silencing her protests.