As a former sex slave, I was trained to please my master in any way he desired. For ten years, I lived in a world where my only purpose was to satisfy his every whim. But now, as a free woman, I crave something more. I want to feel the raw power of a dominant man taking control of my body, using me for his pleasure.

As I lay on the bed, naked and vulnerable, I feel a mix of fear and excitement wash over me. He approaches, his hand gripping my hair, pulling me up to face him. “You belong to me now,” he growls, his eyes filled with a primal hunger.

He wastes no time, slamming into my tight little hole with no warning. The pain is exquisite, but I welcome it, craving the roughness of his touch. He continues to pound into me, the sound of his flesh against mine echoing through the room.

But it’s not enough. I need more. “Whip me,” I beg, my voice barely above a whisper. “Punish me for my past sins.”

He grins, pulling out of me and grabbing a leather strap from the nearby table. He brings it down hard on my ass, the sting sending waves of pleasure through me. With each strike, I feel more alive, more free.

For a moment, I forget the years of bondage and suffering, lost in the pure ecstasy of the present. This is what it means to truly live, to be alive in every sense of the word. And I will never go back to the life I had before.