Dressed in a wight shirt, low waist jeans, and barefoot, I find myself handcuffed, with my arms suspended over my head. I don't know what's happening. It looks like an interrogation, but I have done nothing. The guy I see in front of me looks like he's about to hurt me, and I don't even know why. I'm so scared. I beg him to let me go and tell him that this must be some kind of mistake, but he is not listening. He clenches his fist tightly and punches me hard in my belly. I bent over with pain, but the handcuffs are still holding my arm above my head, so I can't fall on the ground. Desp...

Dressed in a wight shirt, low waist jeans, and barefoot, I find myself handcuffed, with my arms suspended over my head. I don't know what's happening. It looks like an interrogation, but I have done nothing. The guy I see in front of me looks like he's about to hurt me, and I don't even know why. I'm so scared. I beg him to let me go and tell him that this must be some kind of mistake, but he is not listening. He clenches his fist tightly and punches me hard in my belly. I bent over with pain, but the handcuffs are still holding my arm above my head, so I can't fall on the ground. Despite me continuing to beg and persuade him, he does not want to stop. He keeps punching my stomach and face, totally beating me up. I'm being beaten to a pulp. The smashes are so brutal that I start vomiting, rolling my eyes, and sticking out my tongue. Vomit bursts from my mouth, and I can't stop it. I'm in great pain, and my stomach and guts are ruined. Bruises appear on my face and belly. Eventually, I'm untied, but I'm too weak to fight back. I simply stand in the spot while my belly is being punched some more. I feel like a punching bag. Sometimes I fall to my knees to retch and vomit.
Finally, the interrogator lets me go, and I fall to my knees with my arms wrapped around my stomach. I suffer for a while, gasping for air and dry heaving. I vomit everything you have left.