Roughing It
Don't go camping! I made the mistake of going out in the woods. It was kind of fun at first. Nature, animals, being by myself. Then I started hearing noises. Someone watching me. Everywhere I went I felt eyes on me. Every time I left my tent I felt like I was being followed. I woke one morning to something around my neck, the taste of metal in my mouth. I opened the tent to see that I wasn't outside anymore. I guess it was his woods, his hunting grounds. He stalked me and captured me. Now I'm his. A piece of meat for his amusement. Locked, exposed, humiliated, groped, penetrated, tormented. I can't tell if he's having fun with me, but why else would he treat me this way. He's sick and there's nothing I can do, but endure his every whim.