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from between the boil covered legs of one of the men, she
realised why. Two of the men had poured tepid soup onto her back,
and it had run down her legs. The dogs, as hungry as their owners,
had wasted no time rushing toward Raylene, biting her, chewing on
her and licking the soup from the crease of her spine. Her eyes
screwed closed as one of the bigger dogs sunk his teeth into her
calf, all the while her body being fondled by a mass of hands. One
of the men positioned himself in between her legs, grabbed her
shoulders and thrust himself inside her. A few strokes later and it
was somebody else’s turn, and before long five or six men had each
filled her with their pungent ejaculate.
    As the night wore on, the abuse continued. Vincent’s words
echoed through Stacey’s head as she realised what he had meant.
‘It’s Friday,’ he had said, which meant the builders wouldn’t be
back for three nights. Of all the sexually depraved and humiliating
situations she had been in, she considered this the worst. She
wondered whether she would even make it to Monday, and if she did;
what then? She was more lost now than she had ever been
before.