Kayla Cumsalot 1844-332-2639 x 357

In his hidden room, I lay naked on a dirty, sweat-stained mattress. I don’t know where he is or who he might be with, but I do know that he’ll be back. He always comes back for me. How long I’ve been here, I couldn’t say. Hours turned to days, and days felt as though they had passed into months. No one will find me here in his hidden room.

The bruises from when he took me no longer grace my skin but instead are replaced with the chaffing from the cuffs that keep me chained just A few feet from my mattress. I know it pleases him that I no longer cry at the sight of him. Instead, I can usually hold my tears in now until he gets too rough.

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