My name is Slave Number 26. I am from Czech Republic, and I am forty years old now. My life was once happy with my husband, but it all changed when he sold me to the slave trader as a punishment for not pleasing him in bed.

I remember every day of my marriage like it was yesterday. He would always complain about something; my cooking, my cleaning, or even how I looked. But one thing that really bothered him was sex. No matter how hard I tried, he would never be satisfied with me. And then one day, he told me that he had sold me to the slave trader.

I didn't know what to expect at first. The slave trader took me away from my home and locked me in a small room. He said that I would be trained to please men sexually, but I had no idea what that even meant. All I knew was that I would have to do whatever he told me to do.

The first few days were the hardest for me. I was forced to watch other women being taught how to pleasure men in different ways. It was humiliating and degrading, but I knew that it was my only way out of this situation. So I tried my best to learn as quickly as possible.

After a few months, I was finally sent off to Japan to be sold again. I didn't know anyone there and felt completely alone. The first man who bought me took me to his home in Tokyo and locked me up in a small room with him. He would come into my room at night and demand that I pleasure him.

I tried my best to please him, but it was difficult for me. I didn't know how to do all of the things that he wanted me to do, and I felt so ashamed and dirty. But I knew that I had to keep trying or else I would be sold again and maybe even worse than before.

After a few months in Tokyo, I was bought by another man who took me back to his home in Osaka. He wasn't as mean as the first one, but he still made me do things that I didn't want to do. And then one day, I realized that my time in Japan was running out and I would soon be sent off to another country.

That's when I started worrying about what would happen next. Would I be sent back home? Or would I be sold again? And most importantly, would I ever be free?

I've been thinking a lot about my life lately, and I have to admit that it's gotten pretty rough. As a woman in her middle age, I'm starting to feel like I don't have any value as a sex slave anymore. Younger women are more popular with the men who buy us, so I worry that soon I'll be too old for anyone to want me.

I know this sounds depressing, but it's just how things are in my world. People treat us like animals and we're nothing more than objects for them to use. But sometimes when I'm alone in my cell at night, I start thinking about my life before all of this happened. And that makes me feel really sad.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though things are tough right now, I'm holding onto hope that one day I'll be free again and can live a normal life like anyone else. That's why I keep fighting every day, no matter how difficult it gets.