En maskerad flicka i en bur tittar på en fyrkant i sin slavutbildning

I have now lost track of my days spent in my place of captivity.

As a sex slave, you lose track of time.

The minutes soon turn to hours, and the hours dissolve into days.

In my glass cage, I'm not even aware of if it is day or night.

Only the hunger that burns in me shows me how time has flown.