Sorry I haven't been updating, have been going through a lot of personal issues right now, but I will finish the story, it just may take awhile. Please be patient with me. I love reviews. Whenever I refer to someone as "him", it will be her captor, anyone else I refer to as him, I won't have quotations around the word. Thank you for understanding.

Suddenly I heard a knock at the front door, followed by what I assume "him" opening the door, and some talking. A lot of talking, by multiple different voices. I didn't like the sound of this.

I heard footsteps get closer and closer to the door of the basement, two different footsteps to be exact. One I guessed to be "him" and the other one I'm assuming to be his dealer.

Sometimes it isn't always "his" dealer, its whoever will give him drugs, or even money I have found out. I don't know his name, he just makes me call him "master". I hate him so much, even more then "him"

The door opened, and "he" came down the stairs, but the guy with him I did not recognize, I have never seen this man before, and I didn't have a good feeling about this.

Now, Reba, this is a good friend of mine, you better be respectful and do what he asks." "he" said to me. "he" turned to look at the guy who came down with him. "If she gives you any issues at all, let me know." "he" tapped his "friend" on the shoulder and went back upstairs to his other "friends".

The guy stood there and looked down at me and smiled a sinister smile, I knew I was in for a day of hell.

I came to find out how many men were upstairs with "him", six to be exact.

I was able to count them when they all came down, one after the other, taking their turns on me, back to back to back, with no breaks in between. "He" was the last one to come down and take his turn, high as a kite. No surprise there.

I was in so much pain, and was bleeding down there. I struggled to stand after awhile after I finally found the strength to get up.

They all left after the last guy was done, and right before "he" came down.

I stumbled to the tiny bathroom I had in my cell. Usually I had to have permission to shower or else I would be punished, but I honestly didn't care, I was going to risk it. I needed to clean myself.

I was in there for a long time, I have never felt so dirty in my life. This isn't the first time being raped, and I'm sure it won't be the last, but this was the first time there was that many "men" at once.

After a long time, and the hot water running out, I decided to finally get out. I had some raggedy, dirty old clothes that I had no choice to change back into. A raggedy, holey, plain white t-shirt, and grey sweatpants, minus underwear and bra.

When I got dressed and stepped out, I seen a big tray of food laying on my mattress, with a bottle of water. My "award" for being "good".