I don't know why I was arrested or how long I've been in this cell.
I was walking home when the police car pulled up beside me on the street. He got out, looked me straight in the eyes, directly and deeply, like I'd never been looked at before.
He saw me, I think he saw my soul, my nature. Then he asked for my documents, handcuffed me, and put me in the back of the police van.
He brought me here, took off all my clothes, and tied me up so I couldn't protect myself, stand up, or see my hands.
I eat everything he throws on the cell floor for me to eat: leftover food, dog food, pieces of fruit, or bread. He takes his penis out of his pants, and I drink all the urine without choking, or I suck his penis to drink his semen.
I am obedient, submissive, and affectionate with him. I don't complain, I don't question, I am just obedient, resigned, and affectionate. Even so, I don't understand why he hits me so hard and treats me with such brutality and cruelty.
Every day, two or three times, he comes into the cell and whips me many times, hard, without mercy, until I almost faint, and then he rapes me.
It's not an interrogation; he doesn't ask questions; he insults me, kicks me, and laughs at my crying.
My back hurts a lot; I feel hungry, cold, pain in my wrists and buttocks. But I can't understand or hide that I get aroused, my penis gets hard, and I ejaculate when he enters the cell.
The cell floor is covered in urine, tears, sweat, blood, and semen, everything I spill.
Its delicius
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