Master and slave

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

Without
any discomfort, I knelt before my master. This was what I had anticipated and loved. My body was naked, my breasts exposed, but around my neck wore the collar my master had placed on me. The collar was made of black genuine leather, contrasting perfectly with my white skin. A chain hung naturally from the collar, making a pleasant sound with every movement.
On the west wall was a large mirror. I turned my head and saw my master in the mirror, so sexy, so tender. My master, wearing pajamas, sat upright in a chair, like a statue. My master's gaze was fixed on my naked body, a gaze filled with deep affection and love. My master's hands, with their graceful, well-defined bones, were gently stroking my hair, occasionally turning my head to kiss his exposed penis beneath his pajamas.
As lovers who had been deeply in love for many years, my master had always shown me boundless tenderness, and I, in turn, loved my master deeply. My master was my life, my sun, the lover I would forever follow and serve. I withdrew my gaze; my master's penis was hard and erect, like a towering jade pillar. My tongue lightly licked it, occasionally moistening it with my lips. I could feel the warmth of his penis, and with it, I could feel his pleasure.
Savoring his fragrance, my heart was filled with immense joy. As my master's penis trembled, I quickened my sucking pace. My head shook incessantly, and the chains connecting me to the collar rattled and jingled, like music to our joyful union. My master pushed my head away, pulling his penis from my mouth, but I still followed it, reluctantly, chasing after the object of my dreams. My
master laughed and said, "Little darling, your lower part is itching too, isn't it? It's time for me to give you pleasure, to give you pleasure." My master pulled me by the chain on my collar, leading me to the mirror, making my face face it. I lay on the ground with my hands on the ground, my white buttocks raised like a dog. By this time, my genitals were incredibly wet, my thick labia trembling, waiting to be penetrated, waiting to be penetrated by my master.
My master stood behind me, one hand holding the iron chain binding me, the other stroking my wet genitals. I couldn't help but moan; that tingling sensation made me unable to suppress my sexual urges. I felt as if I were walking in clouds, floating on air, this was my blissful moment. My master's hand continued its controlled movements, moving over my shaved genitals. My master said: "Why are these freshly shaved pubic hairs showing again?"
I moaned, wiggling my hips, truly resembling a female dog in heat. I pleaded: Master, please enter my body, I want to become one with you. Seeing my eager expression, Master smiled, withdrew his hand from my genitals, and gently patted my buttocks a few times, like a dam about to burst, then a flood crashed down. The masochistic factors within me amplified my sexual pleasure once more, and I moaned even more unrestrainedly.
Master's penis was also unusually hard, smoothly entering my genitals. At this moment, my genitals rhythmically opened and closed, receiving Master's entry. When Master's penis was fully inside my wet, slippery lower body, I felt fulfilled, not only physically but also spiritually.
The master released the iron chain from his hands, placing them on my crotch like a general, and I was the warhorse he commanded. The chain slid down my neck, and with each thrust and penetration, waves of pleasure surged through my body like tidal waves. I groaned loudly, shaking my head violently, the chain trembling with my movements. I turned my head and took the chain into my mouth to suppress my moans—
the master was thrusting violently behind me, my genitals enduring his relentless impact. This impact was love, a profound truth of humanity. I enjoy this impact, just as I enjoy love. I even hope this impact, this love, can continue throughout my life, never ending—
nestled in my master's arms, I feel happy and secure, a sense of belonging and freedom. My master's shoulders are broad and supple, the standard shoulders of a man, embodying strength and warmth. My body, on the other hand, is soft and boneless, smooth as jade, often described by my master as a sexy mermaid. My master's arms embrace me, which, in his words, is called "winning the heart of a beauty."
The bedroom lights are soft and peaceful, and gentle music is playing intermittently from the stereo system. When my master and I both reached our climax and lay sprawled on the floor, what I loved most to hear was his murmured words: "Zhao, my little Zhao, I love you." It was his voice from the bottom of his heart, an absolute and genuine expression. And I could only reply tactfully: "Master, I love you too, I am willing to be your slave forever."
After washing, my master led me to the bed and untied the chains from my collar. I looked at his limp penis, gently stroking it, and said: "Master, will you still tie me up?"
My master lowered his head and kissed me, saying: "What do you say?"
I knelt before my master, putting my hands behind my back, and said: "Master, please tie me up."
My master pulled a red rope from beside the pillow on the bed. Seeing that rope sent a burning sensation through my lower body, as if the rope were an extension of my own body. He threaded the rope through the iron ring behind my collar, then wrapped it twice around my upper arm, tied a knot, and pulled it to the front to bind my small breasts. Under the rope's binding, my breasts began to rise, like two mounds. Looking down, my face flushed, and I could feel my breathing quicken.
After binding my breasts, my master pulled the remaining rope behind his back and tied it, without binding my forearms and wrists. This was an improvement my master made after binding me multiple times. This way, my hands still had some freedom, allowing me to maintain my balance as much as possible. Moreover, with this binding, my arms wouldn't become numb due to poor blood circulation after a night's sleep.
During the binding process, I could feel my master's excitement; his penis began to harden and rubbed against my body from time to time. At the same time, my body also began to feel sensations. I squinted my eyes, moaning softly, fully savoring the feeling of being tortured.
With the clanging of the chains, I knew my master had taken out the shackles I had to wear every night—a pair of stainless steel shackles weighing over nine pounds. My master's hand grasped my kneeling ankles, and I could feel the coolness of the shackles against my skin. With a click, the shackles were on my ankles. Then, the other one—
my master lay on his back on the bed, smiling as he looked at me, at this bound and shackled slave, his erect penis standing proudly. I shifted my knees, dragging my shackles, and moved closer to my master. I bent down and brought my lips to his penis, slowly sucking on it as if it were my own delicious meal.
My master closed his eyes, enjoying himself immensely, occasionally letting out a groan. I served him even more diligently; it was my duty as a slave. I knew that my master's happiness was my happiness, and likewise, my happiness was my master's happiness. My master was enjoying himself, and his penis gradually grew larger and thicker under my teasing. I stole a glance; at this moment, my master had completely lost his dignity, like a newborn experiencing love for the first time.
I smiled, wanting to play a joke on my master. I withdrew my tongue from my master's penis and gently rubbed it a few times with my teeth—
as my teeth rubbed together, my master, who was lying on the bed enjoying himself, let out an exaggerated cry. I raised my head and asked with a hint of schadenfreude: What's wrong, master? What are you calling out for?
My master reached out and pinched my small nose, saying: You want to murder your husband? See how I deal with you.
I feigned fear, desperately trying to break free from my master's hand pinching my nose, saying, "This servant wouldn't dare again, this servant didn't mean it, please punish me, master." "
Alright." My master said, "Then tell me, what is the punishment for murdering one's husband?"
My mind raced, and I said, "According to ancient laws, murdering one's husband is punishable by being paraded through the streets on a wooden donkey and slowly executed."
My master pinched my nose harder, saying fiercely, "Then tell me, how will I punish you?"
Seeing my master's expression, I couldn't help but want to laugh, but my nose was sore from being pinched, so I couldn't laugh at all. I looked up and said, "This slave truly didn't mean it. Please forgive me, Master. If you wish to punish me, please love me and use your penis to vigorously violate my genitals."
The Master laughed, released his grip on my nose, and said, "Aren't you ashamed? You've just been penetrated, and you still want it."
I lay on top of the Master, using my unbound hands to grasp his erect penis, and said, "No, no, this slave just wants it, every day, all the time, imagining Master's big bird penetrating me."
Actually, I felt no discomfort as I said these words. My master is my beloved, and I am his pet. In our interactions, we have cast aside all pretense and masks. We are immersed in the game of love, endlessly enjoying it, our hearts in perfect harmony.
My master says: "Without rules, there can be no order. You murdered your husband; you may escape death, but you will not escape punishment. I hereby sentence you to act as a female dog for a day, as a warning to others."
I nestled in my master's arms, swaying my body and pleading, saying: "I accept your punishment, but tonight I want to sleep with you. Tomorrow, may I act as your female dog again?"
My master shook his head, helpless at my pleading, and pulled me into his arms, saying: "Alright, alright." Tonight I'll sleep cuddling my little slave.
Seeing that my master has granted my request, I'm overjoyed. Tonight I can sleep again in my master's broad, warm embrace, instead of being like a female dog dragging a chain, curled up in the basement or at my master's feet. I lie on my master's chest, sticking out my tongue and gently licking his breasts, as docile as a cat. I know my master enjoys this licking too.
Sure enough, my master's arms tightened around me, and I lifted my shackled legs, trapping my master's penis between my vulva. I love this position. In my mind, it's as if my master's penis is an integral part of my body. Only when it's inside me or when I'm gripping it do I feel fulfilled and pleasurable.
My master's hands gently pat my back, and that tender gesture moves me. I enjoy happiness in my master's arms, and at the same time, I secretly vow in my heart that I will obey my master and be a good slave. No matter what my master asks me to do, I will do it. I want to make my master happy and love me.
Thinking about the punishment my master will give me tomorrow, my face flushes slightly, but at the same time, I feel a sense of anticipation. Because I know that every time my master punishes me, he loves me even more. The thought of being naked, unable to stand, forced to live like a dog, of the jingling bells hanging from my collar and nipples, and especially of the thought of a real dog's tail being inserted into my anus, made my genitals gradually wet again.
When I woke up, my master was already up, and the space beside me was empty, leaving only his scent. I used my unbound hands to support myself on the bed and slowly lifted myself up. Perhaps it was the sound of the chains dragging on the floor that startled my master, who asked from the kitchen: "Xiao Zhao, are you awake? Wait a moment, I'll be right there."
I went to the kitchen door and saw that my master had already fried eggs and heated milk, placing them on the dining table. I quickly said, "Master, these are tasks that your slave should do, how can you trouble yourself?"
The master wiped his hands with a towel, walked up to me, kissed me, and said, "Let's make an exception for today."
I smiled; I knew this must be a trick by the master. Every time before the master was about to punish or discipline me, he treated me exceptionally well, showering me with care, and this time was no exception. Thinking of the master's words last night, his decision to sentence me to be a bitch for a day, and seeing his current behavior, I understood everything.
I leaned against the wooden door of the kitchen, shaking my bound body, and said, "Please, master, untie your slave. After I come out of the bathroom, I will properly accept your punishment and be a good bitch."
My master laughed, bent down, and scooped me up in his arms, carrying me towards the bathroom. My stainless steel shackles dangled naturally, the chains rattling.
In the bathroom, I struggled to get down from his embrace, but he stopped me, holding me close in front of him, his hands scooping up my legs. So, I was held by him like a baby. My head rested against his chest, my face flushed. I could see my two pale legs stretched out horizontally, and I could see the shackles on my feet dangling. "
Master, I can't pee like this," I said shamefully.
My master didn't say anything, but held me and turned on the tap next to me. Water gushed out, the sound of which aroused my urge to urinate. Then my master whistled softly and gently, as if I were truly an innocent baby being held by an adult to urinate.
The urine finally gushed out, like a silver jet shooting forward. I quickly raised my legs to prevent the urine from hitting the iron chains of my ankles. My master's hand moved down, touching my labia and my urethra, itchy and tingling. I tried to hold it in, quickly saying, "Master, no, it's dirty—"
My master's hand touched my genitals, saying, "Haha, how could that be?" A virgin's urine is the finest thing in the world, how could it be dirty? Especially for a virgin like you, it's even more sacred.
I wiggled my buttocks shyly and said to my master, "Master, that's enough, please put me down."
My master's hand continued to caress, touching my anus. He brought his head close to my ear and said softly, "It hasn't been cleaned yet."
I shook my head and said, "I don't want to now." "
How can that be? I'll be playing the role of a female dog later, and a tail will be inserted here. How can it not be cleaned now?" My master's hand continued to caress, speaking gently.
I rested my head in my master's lap, closed my eyes, and said, "Master, can I not insert the tail?"
"No." My master said, "You murdered your husband; you should have been executed by slow slicing on a wooden donkey. Now, I'm showing you mercy, and instead of thanking me, you're making demands. Besides, how ugly is a bald-tailed dog?"
Seeing there was no room for negotiation, I didn't insist. I figured I might as well serve two masters, so I had to do as my master said.
After I finished relieving myself, my master turned on the shower. My arms were still bound. Warm water poured down from above, soaking my skin—it felt wonderful. My master carefully washed me, and I, like a doll, passively accepted his service and affection. These moments were my happiest times, filled with a profound sense of bliss, a blissful intoxication to feel my master's hands, the warm water flowing over my body.
Breakfast was also fed to me by my master. I sat upright at the table, my feet shackled with stainless steel anklets, my white breasts and arms bound by red ropes, a black collar adorning my high neck, like a captive princess. My master, sitting beside me, smiled and gracefully fed me breakfast. He seemed like a responsible man—more specifically, a lover, a husband, or a father. In any case, the man in my heart was just like my master.
I instinctively swallowed the food my master fed me, behaving utterly obediently. I knew that what my master loved most was my docile nature, so no matter what, I was always a dutiful slave. My master looked at me and smiled, and between swallows, I would squint my eyes, shamelessly purring at my master, occasionally sticking out my tongue as if to kiss him.
My master laughed, took some milk in his mouth, and brought it to my lips. I quickly raised my head, opened my little mouth, and accepted my master's grace. The sweet milk flowed through my mouth, and then, my master's tongue slipped in, intertwining with mine. A warm current of happiness instantly flowed through my entire body, but unfortunately, my arms were still bound, preventing me from embracing my master. I could only straighten my body and rub my breasts against hers.
I knelt before her, as docile as an obedient female dog. My master lovingly untied the ropes binding my arms and breasts, then reached out and gently stroked the marks left by the bindings on my skin, with a care as if stroking a fine piece of jade. Then, she moved behind me, bent down, and unlocked the shackles on my feet, placing them beside me.
My master stroked my hair and asked, "Are you really willing to be a bitch for twenty-four hours a day without any complaints?"
"Yes," I replied, "I am willing to be your bitch without any complaints."
My master said, "Being a bitch means you will no longer be able to stand or walk, and you will no longer speak human language. Can you do that?"
I nodded and said, "This slave can do it. This slave likes being a bitch. Please dress this slave up."
My master kissed me first, then took out two small copper bells and carefully tied them to my nipples with red silk thread. As my master's hands tied the copper bells to my nipples, my breasts began to harden and swell. My body inexplicably became excited, as if I were born with a masochistic nature, and all of this was what I liked and expected.
Next, my master took out two larger bronze bells. I knew they were ornaments for the collar around my neck, the mark of a female dog. I also knew that once these two bronze bells were attached to my collar, my identity was that of my master's female dog. No matter what movement I made, these two bronze bells would ring, reminding me of my female dog status. At the same time, I also knew that after wearing these bronze bells representing my female dog status, my identity changed from slave to female dog. I would no longer be able to stand and walk, nor speak human language.
I laid my hands on the ground, stretched out my long neck, and let my master hang the two jingling bronze bells on my collar. After my master hung it up, I shook my head, and the two copper bells rang cheerfully, crisp and melodious. My master patted my bottom and said, "Aren't you going to thank your master for this gift?"
I wiggled my bottom and barked twice, even this slight movement made the copper bells on my collar and breasts jingle. My master laughed heartily, then took two knee pads and put them on my left and right knees respectively. I knew that it was my master's love for me, and also a kind of protection, so that even if I knelt or crawled for a long time, my knees would not feel pain or discomfort.
The stainless steel shackles were put back on my ankles, but this time, not only my ankles were shackled, but my wrists were also chained by my owner. However, the wrist chains were much shorter and not as heavy. To make crawling easier, my owner connected the wrist chains to the ankle chains with another chain. This way, when I crawled, I could easily pull on the shackles with a simple lift of my hand.
Finally, my owner took out my last ornament: a real dog's tail. However, the dog's tail had been modified by its owner. The front end was a transparent silicone tube, hollowed out with a sphere inside. This made it easy for the owner to insert without it slipping off easily, and the hollow structure also prevented the flow of gas inside my body. Behind the silicone tube was the dog's tail, black and furry.
Seeing that object filled me with fear. I remembered when my owner first inserted that dog's tail, each time it stretched my anus painfully, burning and making movement very difficult. Of course, after many insertions, my anus could easily accommodate it, but the past pain still made me wary of that dog's tail.
The owner placed the silicone tail in my mouth, making me hold it. Then, he touched my shrunken and dry anus, applied some glycerin, and began to rub it. Soon, my anus relaxed under his rubbing. He removed the tail from my mouth, which was covered in my saliva. He brought it to my anus and easily inserted it—
I instinctively let out a soft "ah" as he inserted the tail, and then I felt my anus fill and begin to contract. I lay on the ground, wagging my tail to thank him, while the bells on my collar and nipples jingled, a scene of unparalleled lewdness.
He slapped my buttocks and said, "Alright, now our bitch can exercise."
I opened my mouth and barked twice, then stretched out my limbs, dragging the chains on my hands and feet, and circled my owner twice, just like a real pet dog. Only, my disguise as a pet dog was more strenuous, as the shackles restricted my freedom and increased my burden.
My owner glanced at the wall clock and said, "Savor this moment. Tomorrow at this time will be your moment of freedom."
I looked up and barked twice in response.
My owner dressed, tied his tie, and, as dashing as a prince, tucked his briefcase under his arm. I knew my owner was going to work and would be leaving my sight. Reluctantly, I nuzzled my head against his legs, displaying an affectionate gesture. My owner took a thick felt mat and placed it in front of the computer desk in the study, leading me there. I knew that would be my home.
I lay diagonally on the mat, arranging my shackles, looking just like a docile female dog. I tried my best to lean back, avoiding the contact of my tail with the mat. My owner took a book from the bookshelf and placed it in front of me, saying, "You're a cultured female dog. When I'm not around, read a book; it'll keep you from being lonely and missing me."
I barked twice to thank my owner for his care. I knew it was *Sadomasochistic Subculture* by Li Yinhe, a book my master and I loved to read. Its elegant cover concealed a wealth of content, especially the appendix, Wang Xiaobo's translation of *The Story of O*, a classic of sadomasochistic literature.
My master knelt down, kissed my lips, and then flicked the bell attached to my nipple, making it ring. Only then did my master smile with satisfaction before leaving the room—
I watched his figure disappear outside the door, and heard him lock it, first the bedroom door, then the steel-barred security door. Now, I was alone in the room—no, a dog, a female dog draped in chains and bells. I reclined on the felt mat my owner had placed there, aimlessly flipping through the pages of a book, my heart filled with thoughts
of my owner—my classmate from middle school, you could say a childhood friend. I remember how we met was a coincidence, just like the saying goes: fish find fish, shrimp find shrimp. In this vast sea of people, to have a friend like my owner as a lifelong partner is a kind of happiness for us.
During my middle school years, I became fascinated by being bound and restrained. Back then, I had a physical connection to these scenes and descriptions in movies and books; whenever I saw such scenes, I felt a surge of heat and a sense of pleasure. Sometimes I would fantasize that I was the one bound and restrained, in a dark prison, on a terrifying execution ground, shackled and imprisoned, being escorted—
so, consciously or unconsciously, I always liked to put my hands behind my back, as if bound, or stand under a big tree on campus, or under the flagpole on the playground, indulging in these imaginings. I could also always feel a pair of eyes constantly watching me, as if they had seen through my secrets.
The owner of those eyes is my current master, a man who is both quiet and somewhat rugged. Of course, this is a secret we only revealed to each other many years later, after we had both entered society and reconnected. It seemed as if it were fate that brought my master and me together, that I found my place, and that my master gained me, his obedient slave.
The first time I came to my master's house, I was still a shy girl. Back then, I would blush when I walked hand in hand with my master on the street and bumped into acquaintances. In my master's bedroom, I saw a magazine for the first time, I think it was "Hong Kong Crime Cases," with colorful covers featuring various beautifully bound women. At that moment, my breathing quickened. I never imagined that my longing would actually come true.
My master's hand rested on my shoulder, and he asked: "Do you like it?"
I didn't speak, rolled up the book in my hands, and closed my eyes. I simply couldn't answer such a question. Although this scene had appeared countless times in my dreams, I always believed it could only exist in dreams—
my master gently lifted my head, and a kiss shattered all my defenses. I nestled in my master's arms, as docile as a kitten. My master and I flipped through the colored pages together, turning the pages of stories about bound women. In my heart, how I longed for those bound women to be me!
But when my master brought his lips close to my ear and softly asked, "Shall I tie you up too?" I still shook my head reservedly and said, "No, I'm scared." My
master smiled and said, "Don't you trust me?"
I said, "No, I believe."
My master asked again, "Don't you love me, or don't I love you?"
I didn't speak, but turned and hugged my master tightly, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. At that moment, my body heated up, and tears streamed down my face.
After a long while, I left my master's embrace, knelt down in front of him, put my arms behind my back, bit my lip, and said, "Tie me up, I'm willing."
My master was also very excited. He picked me up, kissed my slightly closed eyes, and then brought my arms from behind to the front, carefully binding my wrists together with a rope, as if binding a fine piece of porcelain. That was also the first time I was truly tied up. I tried to move my wrists, and there was no discomfort or pain, only that my hands, which were usually free, were now restricted, crossed together, and held by a rope. –
Ring ring – The ringing of the phone brought me back to reality. I looked at the wall clock; it was almost ten o'clock. I sat up from the felt mat, dragging the chains around my body, and crawled towards the desk where the phone was
, truly like a female dog. From the caller ID, I knew it was my master's phone. – I didn't dare pick up the receiver. I knew I had to maintain a female dog's state at all times, whether my master was there or not. I touched the speakerphone button with my nose and then barked twice.
My owner laughed and asked on the other end of the phone, "Is this Xiao Zhao? Missed me, didn't you?"
I still didn't speak, just barked twice more, then wagged my neck affectionately, letting the bell from my collar ring out.
My owner laughed heartily and said, "Alright, alright, you're allowed to speak on the phone, say, 'Missed me?'" With my
owner's permission, I leaned over the phone and said, "Missed, missed you so much! Master, when are you coming back?" "
Soon." My owner said, "I still have some work to do, I'll finish it right away. By the way, what do you want to eat? I'll bring it back for you when I go home at noon."
I wagged my tail and said, "I want to eat you, and I want KFC too."
After hanging up, I licked my lips, then swayed back to my doghouse, dragging the chains on my hands and feet. As I crawled, the brass bells on my collar and breasts jingled, lewd and stimulating.
I swung my tail, which was inserted into my anus, and used my chained hands to caress my breasts. The sound of the chains and the bells aroused me. I missed my master. I missed his love, his caresses, the whipping of his body on my buttocks, and the penetration of his penis into my vagina.
By this time, my genitals were already wet, but without my master's permission, I couldn't masturbate; this was a rule he had set for me. Even when he wasn't around, I couldn't disobey, because I was a very obedient female slave, a bitch, and I could never disobey my master's words.
So, I could only fantasize, fantasize about my master's warm penis slowly penetrating my genitals. And I could only reach my orgasm in my fantasies—it was on that occasion, in my master's house, after he tied me up, that he possessed my body for the first time, transforming me from a girl into a real woman. After a brief period of pain, the pleasure of sexual intercourse filled every cell of my body. It was a completely new feeling, like thunder and lightning, like ocean waves, bringing me to a new realm of life.
Later, I learned that it was also my master's first time. Like me, he had also freely released his virginity that night. Looking at the deep red stains on the sheets, tears streamed down my face—tears tinged with sadness, but mostly with relief.
Seeing my tears, my master seemed at a loss, trying to untie my bound hands. I refused his kindness, holding my bound hands to my chest as if holding my fate in my own hands. I buried my head deeply in my master's embrace and whispered, "From today onwards, I belong to you. You won't abandon me, will you?" "
How could I?" My master said, "I will love you forever, for all eternity, never to be separated."
Hearing his words, my heart filled with happiness. I squinted my eyes, pressing my face against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, I could feel his warmth. I knew in my heart that from this day forward, I belonged to someone, like a drifting boat tied to a tranquil harbor.
After a moment, my master said, "Untie the rope from your hands. From now on, I will never bind you again. I will serve you like a princess."
I shook my head, still pressing my face against his chest, and said, "No, I want you to bind me, for all eternity, forever by your side." My master smiled, somewhat doubtfully, and said, "Do you really want that?"
I nodded solemnly and said, "Yes, when you tied me up, I felt a sense of belonging. I knew then that I belonged to you, that I was your private property. When you tied me up, all my pride and arrogance vanished; I was merely your appendage."
My master held me tighter, and I could feel his penis growing thicker and harder, its warm, comforting touch against my skin. I knew that my master loved me even more now—a love that transcended ordinary love, a sublimation, a higher realm.
My master's hands caressed my skin, caressed my naked body, making me feel the moisture of the rain. He brought his mouth to my ear and asked, "Zhao, will you listen to me?"
I nodded and said, "Yes, I will always listen."
"Alright." My master said, "Kneel before me, okay?"
I quickly rose from his body and knelt respectfully before him, my bound hands supporting my weight on the ground—a sight I will never forget.
My master placed his hand on my head, the solemnity almost ritualistic, and then said, "Call me 'Master,' okay?"
I hesitated for a moment, but finally uttered—"Master."
My master continued, "Are you willing to be my woman, my slave, even my bitch?"
This time, I didn't hesitate and said, "I do."
My master continued, "Are you willing to be bound, restrained, and imprisoned by your master with ropes and chains?
" Hearing words like "ropes," "chains," "bound," "restrained," and "imprisoned," my defenses completely crumbled. I hugged my master's legs with my bound hands, pressed my face against them, and murmured, "I do, I do, I want my master to bind and imprison me forever, forever and ever, for all eternity."
From that first time I had sex with my master, we began living together. We rented a suite with a basement on the outskirts of the city as our home. To the world, we are a loving couple, just another ordinary pair among millions of lovers. But in our private world, when we are alone, I am my master's gentle slave, his obedient bitch.
More precisely, I am a slave to love, a slave to ropes and chains. In my master's love, I find fulfillment in life and sex; bound by ropes and chains, my deepest desires are fully sublimated. And my master, in my gentleness and obedience, finds his ideal, cherishing and loving me even more.
Both my master and I have jobs, and while working, we miss each other. When we finished our work and returned to our beloved little house, I would kneel before my master, begging for his caresses and for him to bind me with ropes into positions he desired. Sometimes I was clothed, but more often, I was naked, my pristine white body exposed, watching my master create beautiful patterns on my body with red, white, and black ropes. My
master's binding technique was excellent; each time he bound me very tightly without making me feel suffocated or uncomfortable. And in each of my master's bindings, I experienced the feeling of being restrained and humiliated, experiencing the feeling of a heroine or a female slave that I had fantasized about since childhood—
not long after, it was my birthday. On my birthday, I received a gift from my master – a real dog collar and a heavy stainless steel chain hanging from it.
When I woke up in the morning, my master wrote "Happy Birthday, Little Bitch" on my bare chest with my lipstick. Then he took out a rope. I immediately asked, "Master, didn't you say you were going to take me out to buy a birthday present? Why are you tying me up?"
My master laughed and said, "Of course! What if a slutty bitch like you runs away if you're not tied up?"
I lay on the bed, pleading, "Fine, I won't run away!"
My master pulled me to his side, kissed me first, then put the rope around my neck and asked, "Tell me, are you a slutty little bitch?"
My body was already limp. Under the stimulation of my master's kisses and the rope, I dared not resist any longer and quickly answered: Yes, I am a slutty little bitch, I am my master's slutty little bitch.
My master pinched my nose and asked again: Then, shouldn't you, this slutty little bitch, be tied up so you don't run away?
I twisted my head, breaking free of my master's hand, and said: Yes, please tie up this slutty little bitch, tie her up however you like.
My master laughed, kissed me again, took the rope off my neck, and first made me put on flesh-colored bodysuit stockings with a flared crotch. Then, using the rope in his hand, he carefully tied it into a parallel figure eight around my breasts, making my two white dove-like breasts even firmer and more ready to take flight. Then, the master told me to drag the rope still bound to my breasts to the bathroom to get a sanitary napkin.
I handed the napkin to the master with a puzzled look. The master smiled mysteriously, placed the napkin under my genitals, and then, using the remaining rope from binding my breasts, coiled it around my waist, tied a knot, and then passed it down through my genitals, tying the excess rope behind me.
My face flushed with shame. Although the master had bound and played with me like this before, it had always been in our own room, in our own world. Now, could I really go to a faraway place like this, and be completely at ease in a bustling crowd without any abnormalities? – I began to doubt my own abilities.
Just then, my mistress took out one of my favorite floral velvet cheongsams from the wardrobe. I quickly stretched out my arms, letting her put the cheongsam on my naked, rope-bound body. Then, she took my white high-heeled shoes from the shoe rack and slipped them onto my stockinged feet.
While I was still immersed in the memories of our initial encounter, I heard the door open. I looked up at the wall clock; I knew my mistress had returned, the mistress I'd been waiting for had brought me KFC.
I quickly leaped from the felt mat, truly like a female dog, crawling on all fours to the living room door amidst the clanking of chains on my hands and feet and the jingling of bells on my body, waiting for my master's arrival, waiting for his affection—
the door opened, and my master's tall figure appeared so welcoming in my eyes. I couldn't forget my place. Although I wanted to be like a normal woman, embracing my master and expressing my love, I was now just a female dog, my master's female dog. I could only bark twice, then use my chained paws to hug my master's legs, pressing my face against them, letting the tears of longing flow freely.
My master put down what he was holding, knelt down, and held my head in his arms. He first licked away the tears streaming from my eyes, then slipped his tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately. I responded to his love with equal passion; our tongues swirled intensely during the kiss, and our hearts pounded wildly.
This continued for a long time until we calmed down, then we reluctantly parted. My master asked me, "Zhao'er, did you miss your master?"
I remained kneeling before him. Hearing his question, I wagged my tail and barked twice in response. "
Master missed you too, my little bitch," my master smiled, bent down, and patted my smooth, white bottom as a reward.
Then, the owner took out a stainless steel dog chain with padlocks at both ends from the cabinet behind the door. He first locked one end of the chain to my collar, then led me—a naked female dog covered in chains and bells—to the dining room with a clattering sound.
Our dining room has beautiful tables and chairs, where we usually eat. But this time, the owner led me, this beautiful female dog, to the coffee table and locked the chain to its leg. Because of the chain's length, I could only kneel before the coffee table, with no freedom of movement.
After locking me up, my master left on his own. Bored, I knelt there, fiddling with the chains binding me, listening to the sounds of him washing his hands and fiddling with things in the kitchen. To be honest, I wasn't a good slave girl. Spoiled since childhood, I was no match for my master when it came to preparing food and drink.
Not long after, my master returned to the room, carrying some cups and plates and his favorite beer. I tilted my head back, wiggled my tail and tail, and barked twice, trying to please him.
My owner smiled, put down the items he was carrying, sat down on the sofa, reached out and stroked my face and hair, praising me, "Good boy, my Zhao'er is so good." I stuck out my tongue and licked the hand my owner was using, just like a dog.
My owner placed a shallow plate on the floor, then took out the KFC he had bought for me, my favorite food, from the paper bag he had brought. It smelled so good! I greedily sniffed, barked twice, then lay down and picked up a piece with my mouth, slowly chewing and swallowing—
actually, eating with your mouth isn't easy; if you're not careful, you can easily get food on your face, making it oily and messy, like a smear. The hands were strictly forbidden to be used. Just as the master said, when a female dog is being used, the hands are no longer hands, but rather the forelimbs of a female dog; and the forelimbs of a female dog are only used for crawling, not for actual use.
While I was eating, the master's hands were not idle. He leisurely drank beer while occasionally rubbing my firm breasts. As he rubbed, the brass bells attached to my nipples made a pleasant sound. And I, too, felt my heart flutter under the master's rubbing, my lower body becoming wet as if overflowing, and I swayed my body from time to time. So, amidst the sound of the chains and the brass bells, I also let out lewd sounds of "ah, ah."
Perhaps my lewd expressions and moans infected my master, for his hand slowly moved down, beginning to touch my smooth, moist vulva. I squinted my eyes, fully enjoying the sensation, my hands, which were bent over the ground, barely supporting my swaying body. I instinctively withdrew my hands, lay prone on the ground, and tried to raise my buttocks as high as possible to facilitate the caress of my master's fingers.
My master's hand caressed and teased my vulva, and amidst waves of pleasure, I could feel his hand parting my labia and beginning to touch my clitoris. When my master's middle finger rubbed my clitoris, the waves of pleasure were like electric shocks, almost unbearable.
I struggled, trying to leap into my master's arms, but the leash connecting my collar to the coffee table leg was still locked. The leash restricted my movement whenever I tried to move. Fortunately, my master understood my intention. He stopped stroking my clitoris and untied the leash—
allowing me to lie across his lap. He sat comfortably on the sofa, watching me use my teeth to pull down the zipper of his trousers. But after that, I was powerless. I could only watch his penis, erect and proud, inside his underwear. My
master smiled, a sly smile, as if wondering what I would do. I stuck out my tongue and, through my master's underwear, carefully licked his penis a few times. Then, I raised my face, wagging my tail and forcing an embarrassed smile, looking at my master pleadingly.
My master patted my smiling face and said, "No other way, huh? Want to eat my sausage, don't you?"
I lowered my head, a blush rising on my face, and barked twice.
With my master's help, I finally took his treasure into my mouth; it was thick and warm. And my master's hand moved back to my genitals, to my vulva, to the clitoris that brought me endless pleasure.
I was immersed in the pleasure my master gave me; it was the spring breeze of my life, the cornerstone that held my master and me together. In this endless pleasure, I couldn't forget my duty as a bitch, a slave; I also had to give my master even greater pleasure.
I gently sucked on my master's treasure, occasionally teasing his glans with my tongue. I could feel my master's excitement, because as I sucked on it, he also let out soft moans. And his hand, which had reached down to my smooth genitals, moved faster, occasionally rubbing my clitoris vigorously.
That kind of pleasure was indescribable. I could only sway helplessly under my master's caresses, making the brass bells on my collar and breasts, as well as the chains connecting my handcuffs and shackles, make pleasant sounds. It was like beautiful music, accompanying my intercourse with my master.
And that sound was something my master loved. I could feel my master's treasure growing thicker and larger, and I could feel the powerful force of the semen about to gush out. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, burying my head to allow my master's treasure to penetrate deeper into my throat—
like a flood bursting its banks, like a spring of sweet water falling from the sky, my master's semen shot into the depths of my throat. Just when I felt like I was about to suffocate, my master's treasure pulled out slightly, giving me a chance to catch my breath. However, the remaining semen stayed in my mouth.
When my master pulled his treasure from my mouth, I collapsed to the ground like a dead dog, panting heavily, completely devoid of any ladylike demeanor. My master, however, knelt down tenderly, affectionately caressing my face and body, caressing the woman who offered no resistance under his love. After catching my
breath for a long time, when I regained some strength, I struggled to lift myself and brought my head close to my master's crotch. I knew my place; I was a bitch, a slave, my master's bitch and slave. I had to serve my master; I had to clean his treasure with my mouth.
However, my master stopped me. I saw that there wasn't much semen left on his treasure. My master patted my butt, still adorned with the dog tail, and stood up, praising me as he said, "My Zhao'er, you're becoming more and more adorable and charming."
Hearing his praise, I felt embarrassed and buried my face in the ground, swaying the tail and the copper bells on my breasts, like a shy girl or a female dog, speechless.
After a moment, my master brought over a glass of water. This time, he didn't pour the water into the bowl on the ground for me to lick like a dog. Instead, he affectionately held me in his arms and fed me sips of water into my mouth, still stained with his semen, to clean my palate—
at that moment, tears of happiness welled up in my eyes.
The midday hours were, after all, brief. When my master went out to work again, I could only continue to crawl on the ground he had laid out for me, like a lonely dog, playing with the chains or bells on my body, reminiscing about the days I spent with him.
When we walked on the street, I felt extremely uncomfortable and a little afraid. I was afraid that others would see through my body and know that lewd ropes were bound to my fair skin. Because I wasn't wearing underwear, I could feel my genitals were cold; because of the lewd ropes passing through that tender place, my gait was slightly abnormal.
Most of the time, I would lean against my master's body and walk slowly, like a sick person. My master held me tenderly, embracing his beloved—a scene that perfectly exemplified the ideal of manhood. However, I could see a smug smile creeping across his face from time to time, and I could feel his hands occasionally stroking my back, sensing the ropes binding my body through my clothes.
Although I felt a little tense and uncomfortable, I was also incredibly excited and aroused. I knew it was my lewd and masochistic instinct.
When my owner and I arrived at the city's largest pet market, I naively thought my owner was going to buy me a kitten or a puppy as a birthday present. It wasn't until we passed the stalls selling kittens and puppies and reached the pet supplies section, staring at the leather collars and metal chains, that I remembered the words "Happy Birthday, Little Female Dog" written in lipstick on my naked body. Then I finally understood. My
face flushed, and my heart pounded as if a rabbit were inside. I blindly followed my owner, watching as she expertly selected the collars. My eyes were fixed on the collars. I knew that one of them might one day grace my fair neck, becoming my adornment. The thought filled me with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
Just then, my owner handed me a collar she had chosen, a mischievous grin on her face, and asked, "Zhao, what do you think of this collar? Would it suit my dog?"
My face flushed, and I took the collar. I carefully examined and stroked the exquisite leather collar, my heart pounding. The collar was black, adjustable, and studded with white pins along the leather edges. Looking inside, I discovered it was lined with a soft, plush material—so gentle and delicate. "
What do you think?" "Are you satisfied?" Zhao asked, her owner continuing.
I nodded without speaking, still clutching the collar tightly. "
Okay, this is it." The owner said to the shopkeeper, "Oh, and could you also add a chain to keep my dog from running around?"
The shopkeeper, busy with his work, asked my owner, "Is your dog a big dog or a small dog?" My
owner smiled and said, "Of course it's a big dog, weighing almost a hundred pounds. Oh, and—" she said, pointing to me, "it weighs about the same as her."
My face turned completely red, clutching the collar, overwhelmed with embarrassment.
Fortunately, the shopkeeper didn't take it seriously. Seeing my shy expression, he said to my owner, "Haha, the boss really knows how to joke. How can a person be compared to a dog? By the way, this big dog needs a thicker chain, otherwise it won't be able to be kept on." As he spoke, he took out a chain more than two meters long and placed it on the counter.
My owner stretched out his hands and weighed the chain in his hands. The chain made a rattling sound on the counter. I couldn't help but reach out my hand as well, touching the cold, white-glowing metal as if touching a treasure, touching the chain that would later be locked around my neck, touching my eternal love deep in my consciousness.
My master truly understands me. He noticed my affection and placed his large hand over mine as I stroked the chain, giving it a firm squeeze—as if to encourage me, praise me, or acknowledge my fondness.
This time, he didn't tease me about my shyness. He quickly paid, picked out a few padlocks and similar items, and then carried me away from the pet shop.
Next to the pet market was a serene park near a small hill, its lush trees dotting the verdant landscape.
My master and I walked along the shaded mountain path, nestled together like countless other lovers. The only difference was that behind my tight-fitting cheongsam lay ropes binding my body. Moreover, in my hand, a paper bag contained the collar I would wear, while my master's bag held a cold iron chain.
Thinking of this, a wave of pleasure surged through my wanton lower body—a kind of anticipation, an anticipation of obedience and love for my master. I imagined the newly bought collar on my fair, delicate neck, the heavy iron chain fastened to it. I lay beside my master, his hand holding the chain of my collar, like leading a real dog.
In a secluded spot, my master and I sat down. A gentle breeze blew through the forest, and fallen leaves swirled and drifted down, creating a picturesque scene around us. My master told me to kneel before him, took the collar from my hand, and held it to my lips, instructing me to kiss it—to kiss the collar that would soon be around my neck.
My master asked, "Do you like it?"
I blushed and nodded, lowering my head, but my eyes remained fixed on the collar.
My master asked again, "Do you like being my bitch?"
My face turned even redder, but the anticipation within me filled me with excitement. I placed my paws on the ground, crawling before my master like a dog. I murmured, "Yes." "Please…please, master, put the collar on your slave's head"—my
master's hand caressed my face, tenderly and affectionately. Then, my master parted my loose hair and placed the leather collar around my neck. At that moment, as the leather collar touched my skin, my heart pounded violently, as if that moment were a watershed moment in my life – just like the first time my master bound me with rope. My
careful master tested the collar's tightness with his fingers before gently fastening it. I could no longer contain my excitement; I buried myself in my master's arms, hugging him tightly, hugging the master who controlled my life.
My master sat there, pushed my embrace away, and looked at me very seriously, saying: "To be a female dog, you must be more loyal to your master than a slave, do you understand?"
Seeing my master's serious expression, I couldn't help but want to laugh, but the collar around my neck, symbolizing a female dog, reminded me. I answered hesitantly, "I know."
My master said again, "Now say it: I am a female dog."
I opened my mouth, saying with some difficulty, "I...I am a female dog, my master's female dog."
My master smiled and pulled me into his arms. At that moment, kneeling before my master, I didn't feel any embarrassment or discomfort; I only felt happiness. My master kissed me passionately, and my tongue danced happily in his mouth, like two fish in love, intertwined.
After the passionate kiss, my master rested his head on my forehead, looking deeply into my eyes, and murmured, "Zhao, I love you."
I closed my eyes, and I could feel my tears of happiness flowing. Faced with my master's loving words, I could only feel grateful that I had met him in my life; it was my happiness. I shook my head and said to my master, "Master, I love you too, forever."
My master picked up the chain beside him and asked, "Will you put on the chain?"
My face flushed, and I nodded shyly. "
Aren't you afraid someone will see?"
I looked around; there was only dense forest, quiet and without a sound. "No." I said firmly.
My master stood up, looked around as well, and then carefully put the chain into the collar around my neck and locked it securely. During the owner's operation, I raised my neck to facilitate the owner's actions, and my docility was absolutely that of an obedient female dog. The slight clinking sound of the chain was the best music to my ears.
When the owner locked the chain, I could feel the weight of the chain, and my neck, which was originally raised, was involuntarily pulled down by the weight of the chain. Thinking of the conversation between the owner and the shop owner when buying the collar and chain, my face, which was already flushed with embarrassment, became even hotter. (14)
The owner took the dangling chain into his hand and gently stroked my hair with his other hand, asking me with concern: Are you uncomfortable?
I shook my head and said, "No." As I shook my head, the chain connecting to the collar rattled.
My master asked again, "What does it feel like to be a female dog?"
I thought for a moment and said, "Humiliation, and submission."
My master smiled, the hand that had been stroking my hair sliding to my face, gently caressing it, and asked, "Do you like it?"
I opened my mouth, took my master's finger into my mouth, and nodded.
My master said, "Can you crawl on the ground like a dog?"
I nodded, blushing and remaining silent.
The grass in the forest was soft and pleasant, and the air smelled of pine. My master pulled on the chain, turning back to look at me crawling on the ground like a dog. As I stretched out my arms and crawled forward, the hem of my cheongsam dragged on the ground, hindering my movement. I looked up at my master with a silly grin and said, "I can't crawl."
My master laughed and said, "You should wear jeans; that will do." After thinking for a moment, my master had another idea. He reached out, lifted the hem of my cheongsam, and placed it near my mouth, saying, "Bite it with your mouth, you little bitch."
Now I was speechless and could only obediently bite the cheongsam, slowly crawling under my master's guidance. As I crawled, the back of the cheongsam slowly drooped down, revealing my bare buttocks and the ropes binding me. The sight must have been incredibly lewd.
My master would occasionally walk behind me and gently pat my snow-white buttocks with his hand. I could only silently endure it. Now I truly understand that when a person kneels, all dignity vanishes, and the servility hidden within is fully revealed.
Although my master's pats were gentle, after a while, my buttocks still felt slightly sore and warm. The feeling of crawling on the ground, combined with the pain in my buttocks, made my blood rush. I didn't know if I was truly shameless, if I truly had no sense of shame. But what I did know was that I liked it, and my master liked it too.
The afternoon was long, but thankfully I could reminisce about the past, remembering the love between my master and me. Thinking back to that time on the mountain when my master first put a collar on me, and then looking at the cloak I'm wearing now, I couldn't help but smile. From being bound by a rope to wearing a collar and leash, and now this outfit, I've obediently accepted every idea my master has come up with. I really can't be sure what new idea my master will come up with tomorrow.
I glanced at the wall clock; there's not much time left before my master returns. Although my master will bring dinner back from outside, it won't be enough without soup. I looked at the kitchen, really wanting to make a delicious soup for my master so he can have a happy dinner.
But thinking of my master's orders, I hesitated. My master means I have to be in a female dog's state 24 hours a day, and this state isn't just formal, but also mental. Besides crawling on the ground, I can only lie on the ground, like a real dog. In that position, I was utterly incapable of doing housework or cooking. At the very least, I couldn't reach the sink or the stove—
I hesitated, but my love for my master wouldn't let me. Oh well, it's already like this, let my master punish me however he wants, I don't care anymore. With that thought, I dragged my shackles and slowly crawled towards the kitchen. Only when I reached the edge of the sink did I stand up, stretch my body after crawling all day, and then turn on the tap and wash my hands.
The refrigerator was fully stocked; perhaps this is one of the advantages of modern life. Fortunately, I had done housework many times before while wearing shackles and handcuffs, so making a simple bowl of hot soup was a piece of cake, and I could feel a sense of happiness while doing it. Because I am not only my master's slave and bitch, but also his woman when needed.
Amidst the clanking of my shackles, I practiced the symphony of pots and pans in the kitchen. Fortunately, it wasn't any tedious work, and the modern equipment in the kitchen spared me the pain of oil fumes and flames. In no time, a steaming pot of egg drop soup was ready.
How fragrant! I sniffed and smiled contentedly. After turning off the stove, I reverted to my identity as a slave bitch, crawling on the floor and slowly returning to the place my master had told me to stay in the study.
d8888d's reply: -------------------------------------------------------
Perfectly trained!!
d8888d's reply: -------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for sharing
d8888d's reply: -------------------------------------------------------
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d8888d's reply: -------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for sharing
d8888d's reply: -------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for your enthusiastic sharing.

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