Being a sex trafficking “victim” has surely made for an interesting life. It seems like only yesterday I was bound and beaten in the basement of a well-paying man. It started when I got snatched off the street as a young girl and taken into a big warehouse.
They stripped us, cleaned and waxed our tiny, trembling bodies, and then bound us with manacles and shackles. We were marched up onto a stage to be sold like livestock. I later learned that’s all I was: a sexy toy made for the pleasures of men.
I was lucky to have been bought by a kind Master, one who fed me, brushed me, took care of my basic needs. In return, I was the best little cocksucking slut he’d ever met in his life. I did everything that Master asked and gave him every inch of my body willingly. Even if I hadn’t been compliant, he would have taken it. I was, and still am, just pretty pussy property after all.