The dancing sunlight

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

My phone rang again. I didn't answer, knowing it was that familiar number. Through the dirty car window, I saw a thin figure in a black women's coat talking on the phone.

"Hello!" I picked up the phone.

"Where are you?" The voice on the other end was that of a girl speaking fluent Mandarin, and it was coming from the person in front of me. The voice sounded slightly nervous.

"I'm looking at you," I said with a mischievous grin. The girl looked around in surprise, her long hair swaying slightly, quite beautiful.

"Why can't I see you?"

"Because I used to be a guerrilla fighter." With that, I hung up and stood up from behind the car, waving in her direction.

Finally, she saw me, seemingly a little incredulous, but slowly walked over: "...Is it you?" Perhaps because of the evening chill, her voice trembled slightly.

"Of course, doesn't it look like me? Am I Wu Qilong online? A little disappointed now?" I said, feigning composure.

"Oh, no, no." She laughed, seemingly enjoying my forced humor. "I've been seeing your profile picture so often, I always thought you were a chubby person." She put away her phone, her unmade-up face radiating a bright smile. Her ordinary clothes couldn't hide her youthful energy, and a faint scent of Lux shower gel was refreshing.

"Oh, I see. Actually, I'm not exactly poor yet, just getting older, and my belly's gotten a little rotten."

Clearly, I had successfully won her over. So, I picked up the heavy bag, hailed a Xiali taxi, and a minute later, we were already navigating this materialistic city in the afterglow of the setting sun.

As night fell, we got out of the car and arrived at a neighborhood on the city's outskirts. Gazing at the wheat fields in the distance, a hint of fear flickered in her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not a womanizer."

She smiled, quietly, like the last ray of sunlight leaping from the horizon.

So we settled in a corner of a small tavern that looked like a converted stable. A few lazy waiters reluctantly looked away from the boring TV program, brought us the menu, and then lazily served the food.

We drank Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), ate the somewhat gritty food, and began a simple conversation.

Her name was Yang Guang, from a northern border city. After graduating from vocational high school, she left her parents and that small town. At 18, she came alone to this city, a place full of cunning, hypocrisy, dust, and filth that everyone in the country longed for, carrying only her hard-earned instrument and a little bit of her parents' blood and sweat.

In a dilapidated, sweat-soaked, greasy little hotel in the city center, she practiced tirelessly day and night, traveling throughout the city to visit teachers. With a little bit of education from a small-town high school, she finally passed the entrance exam for a university after three months. For several years, she attended classes during the day and worked at night, struggling to support her enormous expenses with her own income, and now she was about to complete her studies.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the thin tin walls. She lit a cigarette, the alcohol unable to erase the weariness from her face, a weariness that should have etched on someone her age, a weariness born of chronic sleep deprivation that left her with dark, sunken eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the distance, reflecting the bittersweet experiences of the past few years, the uncertainty of the future, and more… something only she could truly understand.

It was unimaginable that a young woman, without any outside support, had buried her colorful dreams, forgotten fashion and enjoyment. There was nowhere to vent her frustrations, no warm embrace to lean on, not even the courage to reveal her pain to anyone. She could only struggle, struggle, struggle, for an unknown future… experiencing the hardships that adults should bear far too early—a terrifying prospect for anyone.

Finally, our conversation ended with sighs. We, already overwhelmed with emotion, paid the bill and, braving the city's characteristic gale of the season, stumbled into the night, into that small room we would never forget.

This was a typical lovemaking spot. The spacious room contained only the bed, and the flickering lamplight in the wind seemed to foreshadow a romantic evening.

Under the dim light, Yang Guang's cheeks were flushed, and her talkative mouth fell silent. The playfulness in her eyes instantly turned into shyness as she sat on the bed, silently watching me.

"Should you do it yourself or..." It was my first time, so I cautiously probed.

She just stared at me silently, her gentle gaze revealing clear anticipation.

I slowly stepped forward and gently unbuttoned her clothes. She closed her eyes, letting me remove her clothes layer by layer. When her slender body was exposed before me, I asked hesitantly, "It'll be cold in this weather. We're going to play SM games, shouldn't you wear some clothes?"

Sitting on the bed, she didn't open her eyes: "Maybe it will feel different this way!"

"Then should I tighten it a bit?"

The answer was a slow nod.

I stopped talking, opened my bag, and took out tonight's props—cotton rope, handcuffs, a leather collar, ankle bracelets, and a homemade gag. First, I folded a rope in half, then in half again, tied several knots, and put the top knot around Yang Guang's neck. At this moment, her voice became unusually rapid. I pushed the slipknot upwards, letting it tighten around her slender neck, helped her up, and passed the remaining rope under her crotch, splitting it into two strands. I then separated them from behind her buttocks and wrapped each strand around the bottom knot in front, then around her back, reversed the positions, and wrapped it around the front again to wrap around the second knot… until it was completely connected to all the knots. I readjusted the lengths of each strand so that the rope tightly bound her. Each time I tightened, she responded with a soft moan.

"So, our first lesson is the Chinese style."

She opened her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering, looked down at the strange attire on her body, and nodded with a moan.

I took out another rope, folded it in half, and wrapped it around her hands, then wrapped it horizontally twice and tied a knot. The remaining long ends were brought to the front, folded back so her hands could only be held tightly behind her waist, and then wrapped around her arms, passed through the rope binding her body behind her neck, down through the rope binding her hands, and pulled upwards until I couldn't pull any higher.

I took out a shorter rope, folded it in half, passed it through the knot on her stomach, tied several knots, separated her sensitive areas, and pressed the knots against her clitoris and anus, tying them tightly behind her body. Now, before me was a pitiful, bound girl.

"Done, you can open your eyes now."

She looked down at herself, her arms trembling and struggling, whether from cold or excitement. Realizing she could no longer control her upper limbs, she closed her eyes again and groaned even louder… The masochistic feelings she had endured for over twenty years finally erupted!

I looked at the dark blue cast iron radiator behind me (it had stopped working because the heating fees hadn't been paid): "Want to try the feeling of chains?" I

didn't need to hear any answer. Perhaps her reaction triggered my sadistic tendencies. I roughly pulled her to the pipe, took out a leather collar, which was reinforced in the middle with two steel wires and fixed with silver rivets. There was a keyhole at the buckle. I used it to fasten her neck, and then used two anklets of the same material to fasten her slender ankles.

The chain was specially made, about 5mm in diameter and 1.60 meters long, connected at one end to a shorter 200mm chain in the middle. I secured the collar to the top with a padlock, threaded it through a radiator pipe in the corner, and then secured the other end to leather ankle bracelets. I also used a lock to fasten the handcuffs to the height of her hands, which were bound behind her back. As I looped the handcuffs around her small hands, which were already tightly bound, her breathing became unusually rapid. I deliberately let her experience this sensation, gently tightening each buckle, and her body, bent over by the ropes binding her lower body, convulsed with a "click-clack" sound.

Finally, I finished my work, slowly backing away while admiring my creation: the ropes, gleaming under the light, were arranged in a regular diamond pattern on her pitiful, snow-white body. Every inch of the rope seemed to contain boundless energy, recklessly eroding every elastic patch of skin. In her pleasurable struggle, I could almost hear the slight friction of the ropes pulling against each other.

Poor Yang Guang tried to dodge the cold pipe behind her, but with the clanging of the chains, she seemed completely unable to control her legs. One foot had barely taken a step when she suddenly stumbled, tripping over the other. With a cry of surprise, she lost her balance and fell to the ground.

I rushed forward and tightly embraced the little girl, bound like a dumpling. Gently, I straightened her, but she didn't exert any strength, limp in my arms. With a soft moan, she slowly opened her eyes, her expression filled with tenderness, expectation, and deep affection.

I couldn't bear to let go of her shivering, cold body. I pulled her tightly into my warm embrace with my left hand, lowered my head to gently kiss her smooth face, and slowly ran my right hand up her neck through her fragrant, soft hair, down her arms, and along her back to her hands, which were slightly purple from poor blood circulation. With a forceful pull, my perfect restraint, though not removing her hands from her back even slightly, caused her body to fall backward. Yang Guang, who had been quietly enjoying herself, let out a soft "Ah!" followed by a metallic clanging sound—we both fell onto the pipe.

Just then, the lights suddenly went out. My heart skipped a beat, because unfortunately, the main power switch for this place was in this room. I quickly released her, who was still trembling, stepped to the bedside, fumbled for my clothes, took out a lighter, and searched for the key on the bed by the dim light—because my lovely little Yang Guang was still chained to the pipe. Finally, I found the key, turned off the engine, and ran to his side. Using my experience, I fumbled for the small lock behind his neck. The commotion outside made me nervous, and in the darkness, she said urgently, "Quick, quick..."

Finally, I unlocked the lock, supporting the chain to prevent it from making a sound. But I sensed she hadn't moved—the pleasure of the shackles and the shock of the earlier incident made her only say helplessly, with a hint of a sob, "Help me!"

The knocking made me hesitate no longer. I scooped her up, threw her onto the bed, and wrapped her in the blanket. After tidying herself up in the dark, I casually straightened my clothes and opened the door.

Finally, after a flurry of activity and polite greetings like "sorry" and "thank you," the area was brightly lit again. Having seen off the uninvited guest, my heart was still pounding, and my penis had unknowingly stopped being erect. Taking a breath, I pulled back the blanket. Yang Guang, however, was relatively calm, still enjoying the pleasure of being bound.

I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and said, "Should I untie you?"

She shook her head, as if to say she was shaking her head. I covered her with the blanket again, leaned back on the bed, and lit a cigarette. In the smoke, the blanket beside me swayed slightly, and the chains rattled—she was savoring her pleasure alone. Thinking this, my sadistic tendencies reached another peak. I abruptly threw off the blanket, helped her up, and untied the ropes and handcuffs binding her hands, leaving the other restraints on.

"I want to hang you up, is that alright?" After all, we had an agreement, and we had to respect each other's choices.

She sat swaying uncontrollably, and from the corner of her mouth, in an almost inaudible voice, said, "I don't know..." Her long-term vocal training had given her a soft, seductive voice; anyone who heard it would faint.

I forced myself to stay calm and prepared a rope. First, I tightly bound one end of the rope to her wrist, where the marks still remained. The remaining rope was used to press diagonally upwards against her left arm, then around her body, along her delicate breasts, then around her right arm to the back, through the forward rope, and pulled tight. I turned back and looped the rope around her right arm to the front, repeating this several times. Then, I passed the rope under her breasts, and finally passed it vertically between her arms and body, pulling it tight. This way, Yang Guang's arms were pressed tightly against her body, and her wrists were slightly raised due to the close proximity of her arms and the pull of the rope.

After finishing, I patted her back and told her I was done. She shook her body vigorously, but didn't move at all. Her hands moved aimlessly for a while, as if trying to grab something, then she looked at herself carefully from front to back, her lips trembling, and groaned loudly, before collapsing onto the bed and rolling around—it seemed she had been moved and conquered by this bondage!

However, I didn't give up on torturing her. I took out a homemade gag and gently stuffed it into her mouth, securing it firmly. She seemed to enjoy this novel experience, moaning incessantly.

While looking at the ceiling beam, I took out a rope, tied one end to a knot near her neck on the back of the rope that had been attached to her body, and lifted Yang Guang, who was already exhausted from being bound and tortured, to lean against the wall. I continued to handcuff her, then swung the rope over the beam, tightened it, and tied it to a knot near her buttocks, securing it tightly. Now, Yang Guang could only support her weight with the rope and her tiptoes on the mattress.

Taking a breath, I forcefully lifted her legs, using the remaining rope on the beam to wrap around her ankles, which were suspended in mid-air and bound by shackles. By the time I finished, I was drenched in sweat!

I got off the bed, ready to use my gentle caresses to bring her to ecstasy, but my pager suddenly went off at the worst possible time.

"I need to make a call now, so do you need to stay here a little longer?"

Under the lamplight, she answered me with a soft moan. The slight trembling of her hands and toes suggested that she was in a state of extreme excitement. Her elastic skin shimmered with youthful radiance under the fluorescent light, and saliva uncontrollably dripped from her mouth, drawing a long, glistening line in the air.

Controlling my racing heart, I stepped out of the room and stood in the howling wind blowing in my face. After a series of meaningless phrases like "You're too kind" and "Then I'll leave it to you," I finished the call. I glanced at my watch under the streetlight; about 20 minutes had passed. The little slave inside was still hanging there. I had never experienced being suspended for so long before, so I quickly ran to the door, grabbed the key, and opened it.

"Shall I put you down?" I rushed to her side. Hearing her breathing, I felt relieved.

The little slave didn't even open her eyes, slowly shaking her head—a girl with a strong masochistic streak, enduring the numbness of her bound and restrained limbs in an ice-cold room, letting ropes and chains ravage her once-proud young skin, releasing her emotions suppressed for twenty years naked before a man she had never known—this in itself was a poignant and beautiful scene, one that would move anyone!

I trembled as I stepped forward, letting my lips slowly roam over her cold skin, my hands grasping her breasts, gently kneading them. I felt her nipples engorged with blood from excitement, becoming like two adorable little stones. Her excited cries and desperate head-throwing proved that she was being pushed to the peak of this sadomasochistic pleasure.

After a burst of impulsive lovemaking, we temporarily stopped this sweet game, placing her on the solid bed and untying all the restraints on her limbs. We embraced, listening to the whistling wind, I held her tightly in my arms, feeling her soft breath.

After resting for a while, she reverted to her playful nature, stretching out her arms, marked with rope marks, to demonstrate her conducting skills, revealing her beautiful feminine charm. I couldn't help but lower my head to kiss her lips, and she playfully dodged, prompting me to grab the ropes binding her body. Her voice became urgent, "Trying to run away, my little slave?" She looked at me softly, closing her eyes happily...

After a long kiss, we regained our composure, nestled together in the wind, enjoying each other's passion. Suddenly, she opened her eyes, her beautiful eyes blinking with tears, and said in a soft, heartbreaking voice, "I miss home! Master, haven't I called you master before?" She hugged me tightly with both hands, saying, "I've never called anyone else that before, can you believe it? Although we're still strangers, you're the first person to let me experience such perfect torture... We don't know what will happen in the future, but I will always remember today! Could you... tie me up tightly to sleep? I've always wanted to do this, but I've never tried..."

I nodded, looking deeply at the pitiful girl before me, adjusted the ropes, and tied her up again, binding her legs to her thighs, making her look like a pair of horses with their hooves crossed, and then handcuffing her. "Could you make sure I can't speak?" This request was exactly what I wanted, so I put a gag in her mouth, helped her adjust to a more comfortable position, and turned off the light.

It was already 3 a.m. She hadn't slept all night; the rope around her genitals kept pressing on her clitoris, keeping her in a state of constant arousal. Amidst her groans, I remained awake, repeatedly asking if she needed the ropes untied, but she refused each time.

Soon, morning light streamed into the room. I untied the bonds she had clung to, and after washing up, we left the little room filled with love, romance, and fond memories, stepping into the dawn…

Back in the city center, I held her small hand, and she looked at me playfully. After saying goodbye, she skipped and ran off. Watching her retreating figure, I vowed to help this helpless wanderer.

"Hey! Will we meet again?" I called after her, who had already run far away.

She turned back, thought for a moment, and answered with only a lovely smile before running into the bustling city. Her graceful figure radiated joy and happiness, like the sunlight dancing and leaping from the treetops in the early morning after the wind…

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