"God, what a specimen..-" a man's voice trembled with anticipation.

The man's crazy eyes flashed in the light of a lonely, dim light bulb in the room. He walked around you like a shark looking for prey. A hand in a leather glove grabbed your chin, turning your head in different directions, looking at you.

All that came out of your mouth was a tired, painful moan. Your arms and legs were tightly tied to the wooden chair you were sitting on. His mouth was taped shut, and his head was just unbearably sore from the blow inflicted a couple of hours ago.

"My little treasure, I won't give you up to anyone. I won't hurt you if you're a good girl/boy."