*Pay attention to the triggers that will occur in the book* *before starting to read*.

1.Domination and Submission: The unequal power dynamic between the master and the slave, highlighting her submission to his desires and commands.

2.Violence and Torture: Scenes of physical and emotional violence, including cruel punishments and psychological torture that reflect the brutal nature of a disturbed sadist's relationship.

3.Humiliation and Degradation: Situations in which the slave is humiliated, degraded, and exposed to embarrassing situations that reinforce submission and domination.

4.Control and Restriction: The use of physical restraints, such as chains, collars, and tethers, to symbolize the master's absolute control over the slave.

5.Sexual Exploitation: Explicit sexual exploitation, including scenes of forced intimacy and unconventional sexual practices that challenge the boundaries of pleasure and pain.

6.Manipulation and Subjugation: The master's manipulative tactics to maintain control over the slave, exploiting her vulnerabilities and deepest desires.

I invite readers to enter this provocative and challenging universe, aware of the sensitivity of the topics addressed. It is my intention to provoke reflection and understanding, encouraging a reading that goes beyond the superficial and delves into the emotional and psychological layers of the characters.

Feel free to curse, fight with, and badmouth the characters. However, I hope you will respect me as an author and not offend me with words that can hurt me; after all, this is a fictional story. I created it, but I do not practice or support the protagonist's actions.

This book was a challenge from my readers, especially Tania Campos, who are in my WhatsApp group, where they chose the Dark Romance theme. So, if you don't like the genre, I ask you not to start reading.

This is the first edition of the book, which will only feature the protagonist Helena's narrative. The second edition will be released on Kindle, with Kirill's narrative.

Follow me on Instagram for more information, @daycastro_autora

Without further ado, let's venture into this new story, where emotions will make you fight an emotional battle between love and hate, pleasure and pain. May the strongest feeling win...

Ottawa, Canada.

I left home furious with my mother for having fought with my father and thrown him out. My father has always been a good man, and she has always been very hotheaded. While he is the calmness, she is the storm.

But nothing justifies throwing him out. I told her I would go live with him because no one can stand her. She locked me in my room and said I wouldn’t leave the house. I jumped out the window, and now I’m walking the streets without a dollar in my pocket, since she handles all the household money.

I don’t know where my father is living, but I know where he works. The problem is walking all the way to his job. By my calculations, it’s going to take about two hours or more to get there.

I stop in an alley and know that I will cut a nice path if I go this way. The problem is that everyone talks badly about this place; they say there’s a bag man who takes girls to sell their organs.

The police have been called several times, but they always leave without finding anything. I look ahead, where I have the choice of making a huge detour or going through the alley and getting back to the main road.

I cross myself three times and enter, praying that nothing bad happens to me. When I see the end of the alley, where I can already see the cars speeding by, I smile with relief and run to get out of this dreadful place quickly. But as soon as I reach the end, I feel a blow to my face and lose consciousness at once.

(...)

I open my eyes and find myself on a cold bed. I look to the side and realize it’s the same bed used in morgues.

Female Trafficker: — She’s awake; I think it’s better to put her to work in the brothel. Her blood type doesn’t match any of our clients.

Male Trafficker: — But we’ll receive much less. Alive, she won’t bring us much money.

Female Trafficker: — Then we can rent her out; that way, we’ll have money every month.

I listen to their conversation without understanding much, but it seems that he wants my organs, but she wants to sell me. But to whom?

— Please, let me go; I swear I won’t tell anyone. — They look at me and start laughing.

Male Trafficker: — I think you’re right; it’s better to sell her soon. Call Nora and negotiate with her. Tell her she’s a fifteen-year-old, virgin, and has an innocent face, so she’ll pay much more.

I start to cry and squirm. I should have believed that alley wasn’t safe. Now I’m about to be sold like merchandise. The guy approaches me and gives me an injection in my neck, which makes me black out again.

(...)

I wake up, and now I’m in a white room, with mold-filled walls and a clothesline stretched out full of panties. I sit up with a terrible headache, and as I run my hand through my hair, I feel a bump on my forehead.

The door opens, and about ten women walk in, all appearing to be in their twenties or older. All wearing prostitute attire, and that’s when I realize the truth. I’ve been kidnapped to be a prostitute.

One of the girls looks at me, comes closer, sits on my bed, and touches my bump. I recoil in fear, but she asks me to stay calm.

Megan: — They took me the same way five years ago.

— You’ve been trapped here for five years? — She nods in agreement. — How old are you now? And what’s your name?

Megan: — My name is Megan, but here it’s Jennifer. I’m twenty-one. I came here when I was sixteen. I was trained until I turned eighteen, then I was sold at auction for being a virgin, but afterward, my ex-owner returned me here. Here we work to pay our owners and buy things for ourselves; we just can’t leave without their permission.

It seems like I’m trapped in a horror movie, but I look at all the girls around me, realizing that this is all too real.

Megan: — Don’t be scared. At first, it’s frightening, but with time, you get used to it. Sometimes we get some really good-looking men, but other times not so much.

I lower my head and start to cry; she hugs me, and I can smell her scent. A mix of perfumes with a strange stench. The door bursts open, and a woman with bright red hair approaches us. She hands a dollar bill to the woman beside me and looks at me.

Nora: — You will be trained for the auction. First, you will stay here with the girls who will teach you everything. On your 18th birthday, you will have to learn to be a good slave to please your owner. We will also take some pictures to put on the website to attract buyers.

— Why are you doing this? I haven't harmed anyone, and I don't want to stay here.

Nora: — I hope you understood everything I've said, as I will not repeat myself. — She says, ignoring my words, and turns her back to leave.

Megan: — It's better not to respond to her; she's the witch around here, and I've seen her hit several girls who disobeyed her.

— Where are we? — I pray that we are still in Canada, but the answer discourages me.

Megan: — We're in Russia, Moscow to be more exact.

I close my eyes, and a tear rolls down my face, the chances of my parents finding me here are almost nil. She gets up and walks to her bed, tucking the money into her bag. The girls line up to take a shower since the room is small and there's only one bathroom. I scan every inch, seeing the bunk beds. Then I spot a window with bars, allowing the moonlight to filter through.

I rise and approach it, feeling the night breeze touch my face. I let the tears fall in regret. Are my mom and dad looking for me? Will the police find me here? I lean my arms on the window ledge, lower my head, and begin to cry, already imagining my fate from here on out.

Helena,

My training begins as soon as I wake up at dawn. I'm taken by the woman with the red hair to a room where there are some... some... I don't know what they call them, they look like torture things. There are some things I know what they are, like handcuffs and whips. Other things don't even have names.

Nora: - The girls are going to teach you how to use all these things, I'm going to stay in the chair and watch you. Don't worry, you won't be penetrated, your new owner will do that. Take your clothes off. - I don't, and she yells at me. Scared, I start to take them off, crying.

I look back and see two women entering the room, they are dressed in black clothes that are super-tight to their bodies. The black is very reminiscent of electrical tape. One of them, the one with the black hair, takes my hand and sits me on the bed, and the one with the blonde hair approaches with an iron in her hand, which has two bracelets on each end.

She tells me to lie down on the bed and stretch out my feathers. I do, and she puts the bracelets on each of my ankles. I pull one of my legs, and that iron opens wider, and I get scared.

"I don't want to do this." I beg, looking at the woman with the red hair.

Nora: - Keep going. - She orders in a seductive voice. I notice that her breathing is fast and she's biting the corner of her lips.

The girl holds the iron high and turns my body over, placing me face down on the bed.

Nora: - Don't turn around, stay in that position. - I look at the headboard and see the woman getting up from the chair with a whip in her hand. - Even though you're 15, you're really hot, a real whore.

I close my eyes and lower my head, sinking into the mattress. I feel something cold pass over my private area. Afraid of what's to come, I shrink my body and am hit by a lash on my ass.

"Aaaiiiii." I scream in pain and she hits me again. I notice that the more I scream, the harder she hits me. I bite the pillow and try to control my screams so that she stops hitting me.

Nora: - That's right, you're clever, you've learned faster than the others. The more you shout, the more you'll get hit. Your pain isn't significant here, so you don't have to show it to me or anyone else.

I cry silently because of the pain I'm feeling in my ass. Until I feel a warm body pressing against me, and the pain increases. I sob quietly, praying that it will end soon. But it doesn't end, she uses almost all kinds of equipment on me, and if I was curious to know what it was when I came in here, I don't want to anymore.

Nora: - A break for lunch, and then we'll come back to continue training the slave. - She leaves and tells me to follow her. I put my hand out to hide my body, which is on full display. But when she looks back, she makes me take my hand away. - You don't have to hide, you have to show everything you've got. You have to make men look at you with desire, not like a shy beast.

"I don't want any of this, please let me go..." She slaps me so hard that I fall to the floor, feeling the cold combined with the pain of the lashes on my ass.

Nora: - I've already said it, and I won't say it again. Here, your pains, desires or anything else related to you is insignificant. You're a slave and you have to obey your masters. Even though I need you in one piece for the Auction, don't provoke me, because I can be very cruel to you. Now, get up from there and go on parade, not repressed.

I swallow back my sobs and struggle to get up. She puts her hand on my chin and turns my face to see the damage she's done. Then she lets go and tells me to step in front of her, threatening me: if I hide again, I'll be kicked in the back.

I take a deep breath and get it into my head that I'm wearing my pink Adidas sweatshirt, which is what I like best. We reach the food court. I look around and see the walls with a lot of mold, especially at the top near the ceiling. In the center of the area, there's a large wooden table with some long benches so that all the girls can fit.

She pushes me and tells me to sit down. The two women who were with me in the room take a seat in front of me, and the red-haired woman enters through a side door.

Loli: — Obey her, girl; she can ruin your life in here. — The black-haired one says, and I bite my lips to keep from crying.

"I was kidnapped; I was on my way to my father's work, I didn't want to be here."

Loli: — Ninety percent of the girls here were kidnapped. And if you think someone is going to find you, forget it. I've been here for fifteen years, and I have no plans to leave.

"Fifteen? You look so young."

Loli: — I was kidnapped when I was seven; now I'm twenty-two. I suffered a lot to accept this life, but once I did, everything changed. To make it easier, come up with a name for yourself; pretend you’re acting in a play or a soap opera. But do everything Madame Nora tells you, or it will be worse for you.

Nora: — Slave, bring coffee for two; I have guests. — She says, closing the door. I ask the girls where to find the coffee, and they point me toward the kitchen.

The cook doesn’t even look at me, just puts the cups and sugar on a tray and tells me to take it. She must be used to seeing naked women and girls wandering around here; there’s no other explanation. I go to the living room, knock on the door, and as soon as I'm told to enter, I go in.

A man in a suit is sitting with his back to me, but as soon as I place the tray on the table, he looks at me, starting from my breasts and moving up to my face.

Kirill: — Is there a child here, Nora?

Nora: — She’s fifteen, but she’s still in training for the auction.

My desire to ask him for help is strong, but if he's here, he must be here to buy women too, which would only complicate my life with the red-haired woman. He stands up, takes my hand, and makes me turn around. When I face him again, he bites the corner of his mouth.

Kirill: — I will love being at your auction and will be in the front row to buy you. What’s your name? — I search for a fictitious name to give him and come across some roses in a vase on the red-haired woman's table.

"Rose." I say automatically, and he furrows his brow at my response and lets go of my hand, telling me to leave the room. I exit and return to the table to eat with the girls, not understanding what just happened in there.