Harumi sobbed as she sat in her living room and watched the tape. She knew she shouldn't, but she wasn't expecting to remember every sensation as it was displayed on the screen.
It was the second of the locker room scenes. She was bent over the bench with Steve's cock driving into her mouth with loud, wet slurps. Every time he rammed forward, her throat seized up with the memory of it choking her. On the screen, she appeared to be smile and moan at every point, but she knew it was only the kayfabe that kept the smile on her face. Inside, she was screaming and trying to keep her strained smile wrapped around the cock.
In sympathy, her throat seized up as she watched the television. Every thrust of the black cock brought a shudder through her body. She wanted to gag from the memories just as much as she wanted to look away.
The camera panned back to Andy. The blond was holding her hips with both hands as he raped her ass again. The thick, angry red cock pistoned into her asshole, stretching it painfully apart as his entire length disappeared into her tiny hole. He was brutal and fast.
Her body responded to the images on the screen, her asshole tightening in fear and her pussy growing slick. She hated that she enjoyed it, more so that her body grew slick even knowing that she had been forced into the video. They raped her ass and fucked her roughly and, somehow, she found her pussy growing slick just watching it.
When she left the studio, she hated Teruo and Andy but not Steve. Steve was the only one nice to her, he was kind and gentle. He was also the one who stopped the fourth and final scene before it got too much for her.
But now, as she watched the two Americans pounding her tiny body between their hard-muscled forms, she couldn't help but feel anger for both of them. They had violated her, stolen her virginity and plastered it on the screen.
Her true hatred was for the one man not on the screen, Teruo. He said it was going to be a little video with gentle sex. It was gentle, at first, but she never wanted him to do what he did. He had her raped on the screen and she was too weak to stop it.
Through the tears, she picked up the VHS box. The check for eleven million yen slipped out, but she ignored it. Flipping it over, she stared at one of the publicity pictures of her idol career. The background were images of her being fucked, raped, and violated. The pixelation couldn't hide the memories.
“Fallen Idol.” The title left a bad taste in her mouth and a burning humiliation that would never go away.
With a sob, she dropped the box and buried her face in her hands. She had made a mistake again, another mistake of many. And there was no way that she could ever face the world again.
Her muffled cries of faked pleasure filtered through her sorrow. She peeked through her fingers to see Andy fucking her face. He had a grip so tight that his knuckles were white and she had scabs underneath her hair. His cock was powerful as it tore into her throat. She remembered his balls slapping against her chin as thick streamers of drool and cum poured out of her lips.
Harumi remembered the orgasms and the pain. She remembered the sharp waves of pleasure of having a cock inside her pussy, but also the fear of suffocation when they fucked her throat, and the pain of her ass. By the time the recording was done, the pain had subsided but she still remembered being ripped open.
“N-Never again,” she sobbed. “I will never do this again.”
Teruo bowed deeply, his hands in his pocket. He straightened and left her apartment, closing the door behind him.
She wanted to call him back, to make him take the money, but it was the only thing good to come out of the horrible video. She picked it up and set it aside. She would be careful from now on, no more mistakes, no more splurging, and no more videos. Ever.