The following story inhibits content which may or may not exhibit the true reality of real, modern day issues. Do not take offence to any unaccurate depictions of these issues in society as they are clearly for the storyline. Thank you for understanding. Reader discretion is advised.
Ashlyns POV.
I was sick of this building. Sick of these faces. Sick of everything I've been put through this past year. All I owned was Ryan's oversized Fall Out Boy tee, the last one he had given me to wear, and a tight black lace thong and coordinating corset. I could still smell the warm embrace of Ryan in the tee that I always put back on after I'd been 'used', or atleast I'd like to think I could.
This past year of my life has been hell. Ever since being captured in that van the day I left Ryan's, I've been treated like nothing. I got maybe one meal a day if I was lucky. I had definitely slimmed down - I could see my ribs. The nights sleeping in the cellar were cold and lonely, making me long for Ryan's gentle touch; his fingers wrapped around my palm. Every day I was either forgotten or used unwillingly by a strange man I'd never see again.
I have not had any human interaction with anybody except for my rapists in about a year or more, I know I'm in the second December since I've left Ryan -- meaning I've been enslaved for over a year. I miss Ryan more than words could say and I hope he's having the time of his life. I'm sure he's gotten all of the success and everything he's ever wanted. I wonder if he thinks of me anymore. Probably not, I mean he probably has half of the USA drooling over those eyes of his I could've been staring into and saying a soft "goodnight" to if I didn't leave.
And then I heard a familiar voice which interuppted my thoughts.
"Hey Ashley, I've got someone special for you tonight."
"It's Ashlyn.''
"Whatever the fuck your name is. I'm giving you til the count of 3 to get over here bitch."
I got up from my corner and continued down the hallway. At this point I wasn't nervous. I was used to the emotional and physical pain of this and this is probably the 5th time today. I was a mess.
I entered a room that smelt of beer and cigarettes and a man in about his 30's waiting on the one lone matress on the floor waiting to rape a little 17 year old.
Disgusting.
He pulled off my tshirt and freed me of my thong, going to work and then passing out drunk. This one was bad, I could barely feel anything. Once I was sure he was out cold I pulled my thong back up, slipped on Ryan's tee and escaped back to the cellar.
These days I had been conteplaiting suicide. No one cared for me -- and I was nothing but a sex slave. As I cried myself to sleep, I told God my nightly prayers.
"Dear God ---
Please give Ryan all of the fame, hope, and success he needs. I know he'll handle it well God, so don't be hesitant to give it up.
And Please free me of this place and bring us back together, we are truly meant to be."
