I don’t know where else to vent about this, so I’m throwing it out there to see if anyone has been through something similar, or if I’m just losing my mind.

So, I’m Ana, and I married this guy, Dmitry, about a year ago. At first, it felt like living in a movie. Picture this: a penthouse with breathtaking views, art on the walls that I’m sure costs more than I can ever imagine, and a life filled with fancy parties, designer dresses, and jet-setting around the world. The kind of lifestyle that you don’t believe exists until you’re living it. I mean, I didn’t grow up poor, but Dmitry's level of wealth? It’s something else entirely. I think that’s what drew me in at first. Or at least, I tell myself that’s why I stuck around, even when I should’ve seen the red flags.

Because there were red flags. So many red flags. I ignored them all.

Dmitry has always had this... control thing. I should’ve known when we started dating, but I brushed it off as him being protective or maybe just intense. But he’s not protective. He’s possessive. Like, to an unhealthy level. He never liked when I talked to other guys, even if it was harmless. He’d make comments about what I wore, but not in a sweet, "Hey, you look good in that dress" kind of way. More like, "You’ll wear that tonight because I said so." And I’d just go along with it. It was easier than fighting. I thought, "Well, he’s my husband now, maybe this is how marriage works?"

It wasn’t. Or maybe it was. I don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost perspective.

Anyway, the story I’m about to share is something I never thought I’d experience. It’s messed up, and I still feel sick thinking about it. But here goes.

A few nights ago, Dmitry came home, and something was off. I could feel it the second he walked in. You know that gut feeling when you just know something is about to go wrong? Yeah, that. He had these three guys with him. Big, intimidating guys. The kind that make you feel small even if they’re not doing anything overtly threatening. But the energy in the room changed the second they walked in.

We sat in the living room for a bit. The guys didn’t say much at first, just stood there, watching. Dmitry poured himself a drink, relaxed like nothing was out of the ordinary, but I could see something behind his smile. Something cruel.

Then he said it. "It’s time."

I can still hear his voice in my head, smooth as ever, but with this edge to it that made my skin crawl. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but I had this sinking feeling in my gut. I tried to play dumb, like maybe if I pretended not to know, this whole thing would just go away. I asked him if we could talk, like just me and him, hoping I could steer whatever was happening in a different direction.

But Dmitry just smiled, that cold, too-perfect smile, and said, “You know the arrangement.”

Arrangement. That word. I hate it.

I should’ve walked out the door months ago when this so-called "arrangement" was first mentioned. But Dmitry has a way of making things sound normal. Or maybe I was just desperate to believe him. He said, in no uncertain terms, that I was his trophy wife. That part of my "job" was to keep him happy, to entertain him and his friends. He never said outright what that meant, but the implications were always there, lingering in the background.

That night, though, he didn’t leave any room for misinterpretation.

He wanted me to "entertain" his friends. Right there. In our home. In front of him.

I froze. It’s like my brain couldn’t process what was happening. The guys were just standing there, waiting, watching. Dmitry was enjoying every second of my discomfort, my fear. I tried to reason with him, tried to plead, but he didn’t care. He was calm, almost eerily so, as he told me it wasn’t negotiable.

One of the guys stepped forward, and I couldn’t breathe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before, like my whole body just shut down, like I wasn’t even in control of my own mind anymore. He reached out, touched my chin, and told me to get on my knees.

I don’t even know how to explain what happened next. It was like I wasn’t even in my body anymore. Like I was watching it all from a distance, detached, numb. I did what they said because it was easier than resisting. It was like my brain told me it was the only way to survive the night. The first guy was rough, but then the others joined in, and it was just... I don’t even have the words for it.

The worst part? Dmitry was filming the whole thing. Like it was some kind of sick power move, like he got off on watching me be degraded. I can’t even explain the betrayal I felt, knowing the man I married, the man I thought loved me, was enjoying this.

I don’t know how long it lasted. It felt like hours, but maybe it was less. It’s all a blur now. I remember crying, begging them to stop at some point, but no one listened. Dmitry just kept encouraging them, egging them on like I was some toy for them to use however they wanted. By the time they were done, I felt broken. Not just physically, but emotionally. Like I wasn’t even a person anymore. Just... nothing.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Dmitry told me to clean up because there would be a "round two."

That’s when it really hit me. I was trapped. This wasn’t a one-time thing. This was my life now. I was nothing more than an object for him to use, to show off, to give to his friends whenever he wanted.

I feel like I’m living in a nightmare, but I don’t know how to wake up. I can’t leave. Dmitry has too much control over me—financially, emotionally. He’s isolated me from my friends, from my family. I don’t have anyone to turn to. And the sick part is, I think that’s exactly what he wanted.

How do you escape a man like Dmitry?

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