A reflection on why our lives are so different

Finally I got tired, and her final whipping as my girlfriend was complete, a truly emotional stepping stone for both of us, making me feel quite moved. I looked at her, naked and restrained and crying and covered in whip marks, and thought philosophically for a moment. We were two humans, born around the same time as each other in the same country, who lived in the same house together, yet look how different our life experiences were. One human born had gotten lucky in the gender lottery, one hadn't.

No matter how good and obedient a serving **** girlfriend she was, she must have thought very often, such as in times like this when she was restrained and whipped for close to an hour, why her experience had to be the way it was, why she couldn't escape her physical form. Her very own body, the thing we are all born with, was used against her and imprisoned her, whenever her hands and legs were tied or her neck collar leashed to something, trapping her in her own prison of flesh, and when I did something like whip her or **** something massive up her tiny asshole, the experience of her body became hell, but she could only lie there, unable to escape, wondering why her life experience was this way, sobbing, wishing she could be anywhere else. But knowing she could not, she served me devotionally anyway. Now it would be her own body that was used against her to imprison her when she would be shackled to the labour cart, deprived the basic human use and free movement of her arms which had evolved to move and hold things and were now turned against her to restrain her forever.