Ever since I was in a relationship with a dominant, sadistic partner whose body chemistry matched mine, I've been turned on by adult videos. The pleasure I felt back then is unforgettable, and I often recall it during masturbation. But I chose a serious, kind man as my husband—the kind of stable, peaceful life where you feel guilty even thinking about complaining. Still, something is missing. I crave being forcefully taken, being ordered to do dirty things. The male actor I met for the first time seemed gentle at first, but his eyes were sharp and intense. Just his gaze alone made me wet. I know I'll be squeezed tightly, overwhelmed with intense pleasure, and though I swear I won't climax even if I say it feels good, deep down I know I can't keep that promise. It's not because I can't resist—it's because I secretly hope for punishment. While begging for forgiveness, I also strongly desire more. When a vibrator is thrust inside me or an electric massager torments my clit, the pleasure becomes so intense I can't control my emotions. I climax over and over, unable to think of anything else. Just putting on the dirty lingerie he hands me and tells me to change into makes me wet instantly. Called a cock-loving woman, I reach orgasm again and again. More, more—I want to be ruined, wrecked completely, until I break apart.