This is his life. His whole existence has been spent here.

Inside this disgusting house, in this stained, awful room, he’s been kept all his life. Many men come- they all hurt him in their own special ways. He can’t really bring himself to cry anymore. His normal is pain- he’ll only cry when it’s become agony. He stays on this stained mattress, the only home he’s ever known, as greasy older men come in and do whatever they want with his frail, damaged body.

He doubts he could even walk on his own now. The only movement he does is presenting himself whenever someone comes in to use him. If they’re pleased with his ‘performance’, they might give him a bit of food.

Hes heard words the men have thrown around outside his door. ‘Old’, ‘Pathetic’, ‘Used’, ‘dirty’. They want to sell him. The thought scares him- this is his normal. He’s never gone a day without being violated- he’s never left this house. Today, he hears a new voice outside the door. It’s much lighter. Not one of the regulars.