From the first, I knew that this night would eventually come. But I never imagined it would come this soon.
I’d been working for about a year as a professional submissive in one of those Hollywood S&M nightclubs when something I’d never expected happened. One night after the club closed, I
was sitting at the bar enjoying an after-work drink with the manager. The last thing I expected was to be drugged.
I awoke to learn to my dismay that they’d sold me to one of the most infamous S&M brothels in Bangkok, a place known for the short life expectancies of even the most beautiful of submissives.
I quickly discovered this place was nothing like the Hollywood S&M nightclub scene. Here the welts, bruises, and scars were all real. The whispered rumors among the submissives concerning
special client orders were more disturbing, where clients paid extra to torture one of the brothel’s submissives to death. Even when a woman would mysteriously disappear, I’d tried to ignore
all the rumors, even though I suspected the rumors were true. That was until tonight. Because tonight I can no longer ignore the rumors because now, sadly, I know the truth.
Earlier this evening, they brought me downstairs, deep beneath the brothel’s main floor, to where they maintain a heavily sound-proofed torture chamber, one reserved for special client orders,
and secured my wrists within these overhead restraints.
It seems that a wealthy Englishman has taken a fancy to me. Negotiating with the brothel’s madam, he’d purchased my life for two hundred thousand dollars. Tonight, after he finishes upstairs,
he’ll bring his 9th century Saxon short sword down here and use it to run me through. I’ll die screaming in agony simply for his sickly perverted amusement, with his sword’s razor-sharp blade buried
deep within my guts.
It’s ironic. I’ve always had a fascination with bladed weapons like knives and swords. I’ve often fantasized about being murdered with one, the painful, sickening sensation of cold hard steel being
savagely twisted in my guts as I die.
Still, I never imagined being sold to an infamous S&M brothel in Bangkok as a sex slave. Or that six months later, I’d be fated to painfully die upon the razor-sharp blade of an ancient sword within
the brothel’s torture chamber. Just lucky, I guess...