Left with what you gave me. Now I must go on, and everyone looks at me, asking how, when, why? Their curiosity is violating more than your rape. They want to live vicariously through you, look at what you did, voyeurs. They act innocent, but hungrily they gather up the details of your crime against me. How many armchair rapists are there out in the world? Just like a game they imagine the details of their called shots and by the popular “hits” they measure their satisfaction. Damn you all, I was captive, a sex slave, and all that want to see my story are freaks! You drool at the story, thinking you wish you had me, and what you would DO! I tell my story and you hungrily lick it up, thankful it wasn't you who got caught, but your imaginations betray your feigned innocence. It happened to me, yes, but why do you pretend to care? Your jealous that it wasn't you who commanded my sex for years. Fuck you all! Of the thousands of “likes” of my story, most are perverted “wannabe's” you don't have the fucking courage to do what he did to me. Your worse then he is, you pretend innocence more than he! Yes I was a captive, made a sexual slave, but do you have to lust after his experience? Fuck you! I see you, I know you, your internet anonymity is a farce because I know and see you! Stop lusting after my story you fucking perverts!