The room is dark, but the worst part is the blindfold covering my eyes. I can smell everything, including the blood that is leaking down my back in droves. By now, it’s probably coating the floor beneath me, making puddles.

When I shift my body, I can feel something wet and sticky beneath me, confirming just that.

The man cackles behind me as he readies his whip again. It’s not the first time that I have suffered from such abuse, though I had hoped those days were behind me.

This is ...