【Xin'er】(The End) Author: Xiao Qiu

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Author: Xiaoqiu
Word Count: 49218

Chapter 1

Before the white-lacquered wooden-framed French windows, beside the dark brown leather sofa, on the round oak coffee table,
unique patterns were outlined. On the platform, a red book sat, depicting the lips of a man and a woman, embracing and kissing. The
sensual woman's full lips nibbled at the man's stubble-covered mouth, gently pulling, reluctant to let go. The five large characters,

"Love is Incomparably Desolate,"

profoundly encapsulated the author's inner thoughts. It was also the book my master had recently been engrossed in
reading. I often wondered what was so interesting about these difficult books that made him read
them , savoring the extraordinary insights gained from each reading.

I could only see neatly trimmed nails; it was a familiar, thick hand that casually picked up the end of the book and brought it to
his lower abdomen to read. The pages flew, dancing gracefully under the manipulation of his fingers.

Before me, naked, I knelt obediently at his feet, cupping warm
water from a basin in my hands, carefully pouring it over the soles of his feet, washing them with tenderness and affection. It was as if I were
washing away all the grime, leaving only the most beautiful parts.

Splash…splash…

“Yearning to possess, so I try to let go…” The owner of those legs pursed his lips, looking at the printed words in the book in his hands
, softly reciting: “…yearning to be deeply loved, so I pretend not to love too deeply…”

His left hand held the book, his right hand folding the pages; his black and white shirt exuded a
gentle and refined air. Yet, his two bare feet, glistening with water droplets, looked bizarre and surreal.

“…What seems like self-destructive emotion, isn’t it also a kind of ‘perfect’ love…”

His toes wiggled up and down, water droplets floating in mid-air, like a mischievous child, and I knew
what he wanted me to do. This unspoken understanding is the result of long-term accumulation, not something cultivated in a short time. The towel at the bottom was lifted,
wrapped around both feet, and the excess water was dried. In the soft sunlight behind, it shimmered with a halo of light.

"Mmm..." I savored my master's words, repeatedly chewing them over in my heart. I held his feet in my hands,
softly calling out. I knelt respectfully beside his legs, displaying my most submissive posture, "...Master..."

My lips parted slightly, my wet tongue protruding, my face feeling hot, a lingering shame clinging to me. However,
my long-trained nature gradually took over my actions, skillfully manipulating my body.

Licking.

My toes and tongue made direct contact. The unique texture and feel spread through my nerves to my
mind. My oral mucosa secreted wet saliva, brimming with a visceral desire to savor it, like a delicious
meal.

Huff! Glug! Chirp! Glug!

The gentle murmur of tasting echoed like the flow of a river, its continuous vocal lines sketching out notes, playing
the sweetest melody.

"Xinnu, is it delicious?" A gentle voice spoke again, completely different from the man on the book cover.
The face before me was smooth and clean, while the character in the book was rugged and bold. The pupils behind the glasses, half-closed, revealed
a deep appreciation, burning my face with their intensity, and teasingly said, "Haven't you had any for a long time, and
you've been missing it terribly?"

I slightly turned my head and closed my eyes, avoiding my master's gaze, my hands still serving, obediently licking, and
shyly replied, "Master... please stop..."

I pleaded softly with shyness, while lewdly tasting my master's toes, not even
sparing , experiencing this complex and contradictory sexual desire, both pleasurable and thirsty.

"Look at me," he commanded with unwavering authority.

"Hmm..." Shyly, I secretly opened my eyes, looked up at my master, and respectfully replied, "...Yes,
Master."

The sunlight behind me shone directly on him. The hazy light and shadow made the man in front of me indistinct. I don't
know if it was my master's gaze or the heat of the sun, but my body felt even more restless. It was as if a flame was
burning rapidly inside me, but it had nowhere to be released, buried shallowly beneath my skin, ready to burst forth.

Glug! Chirp! Huff! Glug!

From my toes to the soles of my feet, the taste buds on my tongue carried a faint salty taste, and the masculine aura of a man. This
was clearly a very dirty act, but I enjoyed it immensely, and was reluctant to part with it. Or rather, I
could not do such a degrading thing to any other boy or girl but my master.

Especially under his gaze, I licked even more vigorously, hoping to receive his praise. At the same time, a tingling and itchy
sensation gathered in my lower body, as if it were condensing on my clitoris, swelling and becoming engorged with blood.

"Hoo...ha...hoo..." The moist breath from my nose carried the unique scent of my master's feet,
a deadly addiction that filled my nostrils.

Instantly, my whole body trembled involuntarily. My vaginal opening tightened, the honeyed cave within me. My
master matured mound, as if invited, greedily and longingly sought his affection.

"Master..." I pleaded, looking up.

Snap!

The book closed and was casually placed back on the coffee table.

Leaning forward, my master's right hand appeared before me. A slight hook of his index finger, a seemingly simple action,
made my body react even more strongly. My heart pounded wildly, resonating with the teasing of his finger, saliva
filling my mouth, which I swallowed with a gulp.

"Xin Nu." His enchanting words echoed in my ears, the command I had long awaited, "
Raise your head, expose your neck."

"Yes, Master."

I obediently tied my hair up; this was my master's most basic requirement. Firstly, because he liked my neck, so fair and translucent
. Secondly, he was worried that my long hair, reaching my back, might get caught in my airway during training, causing an unnecessary risk of suffocation.

This simple yet thoughtful rule touched me deeply.

Then, my master on the sofa took out a collar he had meticulously made for me, about the thickness of my middle finger, made of red woven
leather, with a small metal tag hanging from the front, engraved with:

"Slave Xin'er."

The four simple characters were full of symbolic meaning. Every time I saw those words, I
felt as if my soul was being ripped away. My solidified personality in reality was stripped away, projected into
the body of my master's exclusive sex slave. In this world where it was just the two of us, he was my only one.

"Huff...huff..." My breathing became instinctively rapid.

My master asked, "Whose collar is this?"

"It's...Xin'er..." I quickly corrected myself, saying shyly, "...No, it's Xin'er's..."

"Correct answer, my good slave."

As the collar drew closer, the pain of my soul being torn apart intensified. Specifically, it felt as if my
moral compass had been stripped away, leaving only my wanton self. Especially when the collar's chains loosened and fastened around my neck
, a wave of overwhelming shame shackled me, a torrent of memories surging from my consciousness,
reminding my slave status before my master.

Utterly unreserved, at his mercy.

Crack!

The collar tightened, and my pounding heart gradually calmed. The blood in my body rushed
through converging on my earlobes, neck, nipples, navel, back, buttocks, toes, even
my beloved cunt, clitoris, and anus.

My veins throbbed with a desperate thirst for more favor.

"Go, Xin Nu," the master commanded, rising. "To the room."

"Yes, Master."

One after the other, one walking, one crawling. I followed closely behind my master, half a meter behind, like a loyal bitch,
not daring to overstep my bounds. My breathing became lighter, my body swaying from side to side with my limbs, especially my buttocks, enjoying my
shameless and lewd appearance.

We walked through the corridor, heading inwards. After passing the first resting bedroom, we arrived at our most frequent training
room .

Throughout the entire process, we didn't exchange a single word. However, that subtle yet powerful aura constantly enveloped
me. Not to mention, I was so addicted to this sensation that I unknowingly became overwhelmed with desire, my genitals becoming wet and
sticky .

Thump!

The door closed.

Only after entering the room did I realize that my master's tools had been prepared beforehand. Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine,
and trembled. It wasn't the cold weather, but the equipment inside that terrified me.

A huge wooden-framed full-length mirror, opposite which was a human-shaped black iron cage, designed according to my body shape.

I was forced into a doggy-like position, tightly bound by a densely woven iron cage.
While —its purpose is self-evident.
The areas around my breasts and buttocks were open, fitting snugly against my skin and distributing my weight. There were also two holes in my buttocks for easy insertion and
removal of various sex toys.

...Ugh... why this torture device again today?!

Memories of my last "enjoyment" of this thing slowly surfaced. Fragmented
images of memory sprayed through my mind—the near-exhausted dizziness and the endless orgasms were indescribable
. And today, there was a huge mirror, clearly meant to make me indulge in
debauchery .

Just thinking about the scenes ahead made my body begin to contract and secrete fluids, accompanied by an unbearable itch,
actively lubricating my sensitive passages in preparation for any eventuality.

"Master..." I hesitated slightly, pleading, "...Please, don't..."

"Hmm?" The master took a brown leather riding crop from the wall and coldly asked, "You have a problem with that?"

He flicked the tip of the crop, sending ripples through the air. Dressed in a black suit and white shirt, holding the riding crop, the master
exuded a sadistic aura, yet remained impeccably composed.

"No, Master." I instantly curled up, bowing my head and prostrating myself on the ground.

Then, the tip of the crop pressed against my cheek, the cold leather rubbing against me intensifying my fear
. I was terrified that the next second, the master would slap me hard across the face.

...The excruciating pain of being whipped on the face was something I would never forget.

"Raise your head." The whip forcibly lifted my chin.

By then, my eyes were brimming with tears. Even though nothing had started yet, I was already crying out of fear. Yet,
the slave nature within my soul betrayed my reason, and I kept inhaling the scent of leather, both fearful and expectant
of the master's whip.

"Master...please don't..." I pleaded softly.

*Snap!*

Without another word, intense pain surged through every nerve, making me see stars. And my uncooperative
body, in the agony, even lost control of my bladder. I clearly felt that as my cheek was slapped, several drops of urine
uncontrollably .

"Ugh!" I cried out.

Warm liquid drenched my inner thighs. Immediately, a slippery, pungent smell
wafted through the air.

Oh God! This is so shameful...

Then, the whip returned to my chin. My master's expression remained unchanged; his pupils behind his glasses
held a mixture his characteristic gentleness and sternness. His steady right hand, without any hesitation, gripped the whip firmly,
and he said, "Go to the cage, move!"

My heart skipped a beat as the command was given.

I must say, the word "move" is always the keyword I dread hearing most from my master. An indescribable sense of oppression arose
, forcing my actions to obey my master's demands.

"Ugh..." I wanted to resist one last time, but my body wouldn't obey.

Right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot, the rhythmic movement guided my steps, resignedly leading me into
my dog cage. Restrained, confined, my space for movement rapidly diminished, my limbs were forcibly bent, my elbows and knees
supporting my weight—it was extremely uncomfortable.

Fortunately, the other support points of the cage distributed my weight.

Click!

The sound of the dog cage locking also proclaimed my freedom, stripped away by my master.

"Huff...huff...huff...huff huff huff..."

I gasped for breath, my heart pounding violently. Because the mirror in front of me reflected
my naked body without reservation. The inky black wire mesh, my milky white body, my lewd and wanton self, my flushed face and hazy
, seductive eyes, exuded an alluring attraction.

Yet, even the unseen private parts gushed forth more fluids, driven by an intense shame, increasingly resembling the very nature of
a sex slave , permeating every cell.

At that moment, I wanted to close my eyes, to escape this shameful scene. Unexpectedly, my master, already aware of my
mischievousness , instructed, "Chew on the bone, and focus on yourself."

"Ugh…"

I hesitantly begged for mercy, feigning resistance. But immediately, I received my punishment.

*Smack! Smack!*

Two sharp, piercing sounds cut through the air, striking my buttocks precisely, swiftly and heavily. The burning,
numbing heat mingled with my painful cries.

"Ahhh!"

Not even a shred of resistance or willfulness was given to me. This was my master during training—decisive and cruel.

"Xin Nu." The whip traced the marks left by the blows, making me tremble uncontrollably, terrified of
the pain that might strike at any moment. The torment felt like torture, awaiting my response. "Bite, move."

"Yes… Waaah… Master…" I choked out.

A burning, throbbing pain shot through my buttocks, and tears streamed down my face like raindrops. In the mirror was a
woman with teary eyes, her tightly pursed, wet lips slowly opening to reveal her pink, sticky mouth as she bit into the
specially made dog bone.

"Hmm…" A muffled groan escaped her lips, unable to close.

"If you had just behaved earlier, wouldn't it have been better?" My master came to my side, adding sarcastically, "
You 've been letting yourself get beaten for nothing. Is your butt itchy?"

"No… no, it is…" I protested pitifully.

The dog bone was designed to be thick and large; after only a short time of gnawing, my cheeks felt sore from being stretched open.
Saliva, which should have been swallowed, slowly accumulated in my mouth, causing great discomfort.

*Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

* Another round of unexpected whipping followed.

"Ah! Ooh! Ahh! Ah!" I instinctively twisted, searching for a place to hide. However,
in this confined iron cage, there was no room for escape. "Ugh! Ugh! No… Ooh!"

The entire training room was filled with the sound of the master's whip and my miserable screams. These ten
lashes on made my saliva flow freely, soaking my entire bone.

"Ugh… Ugh…" I cried out in pain.

The numb and swollen skin of my buttocks felt like it was being burned by fire. Then, the master's hand stroked my
face, and he pulled on the leash next to the dog bone, tightening it.

"If I don't give you a good spanking, you're naughty." He made sure the object in my mouth was firmly in place. "It's only been a short time since
I properly disciplined you, and you're already starting to disobey me."

He fiddled with my bangs, making my lewd reflection in the mirror even clearer. The addition of the dog bone
amplified my shame even more. Collar, cage, dog bone—it seemed only an ear or a tail was missing. A beautiful, living
dog was about to appear before my eyes.

And this beautiful dog was me.

"Uh...no, I dare...uh..." I stammered.

The master ignored me, leaning down and reaching out his left hand to play with my soft breasts, while his right hand, using
the length of the riding crop, penetrated between my legs, rubbing the hard leather tip against my anus.

"Heh, or... are you deliberately making a mistake so I can punish you severely?" the master chuckled. "Just
that dishonest."

His fingers pinched my nipple, slowly rubbing it on his fingertips. A tingling, pleasurable sensation immediately surged
through me. It was completely different from the feeling of touching myself; one was gentle and ethereal, the other was heavy and solid.

The master's strength, with its simple teasing, made my nipples hard to the point of discomfort.

"Ugh... mmm..." I let out a soft moan, playing along with the master's caresses.

My two engorged nipples were alternately played with. Especially when they were scratched and poked by his fingernails, it felt like
an electric shock, coursing through my entire body again and again.

At the same time, his stiff riding crop rubbed back and forth between my thighs, flipping and hooking, teasing
my labia and clitoris, an indescribable agony. A yearning for more, yet an emptiness that could never be satisfied,
stirred by the whip's churning, made me feel my juices gushing forth, echoing my shameful, lewd desires,
wet and slippery.

"Mmm... Master, Master... Oh... Ee-ha..." The pleasure transmitted from my sensitive spots circulated within my
body, rising and falling with my breath, splashing out wave after wave. "...Master, mmm... Haha... Human...

Slave... Mmm... It's so uncomfortable... Ugh... Itchy..."

If I weren't trapped in this dog cage, I think I would have already thrown myself into my master's arms, letting him do as he pleased, indulging in wanton
moans and cries. But, imprisoned, I was merely my master's sex toy. My
suffering wouldn't end until he was satisfied.

"Torture me, shall we?" Just as I was about to lose myself in desire, my master spoke.

He abruptly stopped, leaving me stranded in that awkward, unsatisfying position. Further progress brings greater
pleasure, while retreat is cruel torment. The peaks of pleasure emanating from my body plunge me into this endless
hell of desire.

"Mmm... Master, Master... Ugh..." My appearance is utterly degrading. The wanton
woman in the mirror, chewing a dog bone, is completely unlike her usual reserved self. Hungry eyes, flushed cheeks, and glistening beads of sweat
highlight my most shameless flesh. "...Spare me... Ugh... Hahaha... Slave, slave..."

Like a prisoner tormented by ants, every cell in my body yearns for sadomasochism. The scene in the mirror shows
my nipples hard and burning, as if about to burst. And on the floor below, a pool
of semen has dripped silently, telling my true nature: a shameless sex slave.

"Want pleasure?" My master's voice comes again.

Suddenly, I realize my nipples are being clamped shut by my master. The pair of
red were mercilessly fastened to my nipples by my master, producing intense pleasure without any pain.

*Jingle bells!* *Jingle bells!* *Jingle bells!*

The bells rang loudly, caused by my master's manipulation. But after the pleasurable sensation came the excruciating
pain, tormenting my nipples with the shaking of the bells.

"Ugh! Ughhhh!" I cried out, my head thrown back, my lips aching from the clamps.

Yet, a hope lingered within me, a yearning for more, more intense sadism from my master, a way to thoroughly punish my perverted
body. In a flash, my vagina and anus contracted and writhed rapidly, as if afraid my master wouldn't notice my
true feelings, declaring them with the most sincere action.

*Plop!*

The next second, something finally filled my empty body. Some cool, realistic dildos poke at my
sensitive sphincter muscles, then plunge straight into my rectum, stretching open the inner walls. At that moment, my master stands
behind me, watching the instant my anus is breached.

So good! So incredibly good!

An indescribable feeling quickly fills my intestinal walls, exploding into sparks of desire,
igniting the very genes of my soul, creating a dazzling display.

"Gulp... um..." My eyes widen, but no sound comes out.

Then, the master began to thrust the dildo in and out of my anus, making
lewd and shameless sounds.

*Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop plop! Plop plop!*

Only in front of the master would I be so wanton, even in my anus. The secreted fluid
easily made my chrysanthemum bud emit such unbearable thrusting sounds.

"Xin Nu, can't hold back anymore?" Another violent thrust.

"Oh…" My mind was blurry. My

violently trembling body betrayed my impending climax. Only under the master's manipulation
could reach the eve of an anal climax. Just a little more stimulation was needed to reach the peak I longed for.

"Master…uh…man…give, give…uh…give Xin Nu…" I pleaded incoherently. Under
the master 's thrusting, my most primal lust was revealed: "...Oh...uh...a reward, bestowed upon my slave...ha...

orgasm..."

"Hehe, then I'll give you an orgasm." The master smiled with satisfaction, intoxicated by my pleas.

In an instant, it felt like I was in heaven, incomparably blissful. The sweet smile on his lips made my mind lose its
composure , and I didn't notice my surroundings under his smile.

Snap!

The unexpected whip struck my clitoris precisely. The master in the mirror smiled with
a hint of cruelty. After the whipping came the continuous assault on my anus.

Thud! Thud Thud Thud! Thud Thud Thud Thud!

The shock...dizziness...like the last straw that broke the camel's back, my erect
clitoris, which had been almost bursting, was instantly released in excruciating pain—

orgasm!

In an instant, I completely stopped thinking. I must have lost the ability to think long ago, from the moment I met the master
, my entire soul was immersed in this training. I followed his instructions step by step.

And now, it was time to enjoy the fruits of my labor, which made me dizzy with the pleasure of being tortured, my vision gradually
blurring , and I lost consciousness...

If I could, I desperately wanted to be utterly wanton under my master's training until he was satisfied. In fact,
my sensitive body didn't have that kind of spirit and stamina. Often,
I would collapse .

In front of the full-length mirror, in the dog cage, this shameless female animal, I reached
the ultimate . Then, my special dildo was inserted into my cunt and anus at the same time, and with alternating and continuous piston-like
movements, I repeatedly succumbed to lust, gushing endless amounts of vaginal fluid, until I completely lost control of my body.

I don't know how much time had passed, but a comfortable feeling spread throughout my body. It was warm and cozy, like soaking in a hot water pool, all
my pores open, floating in this free space. Then, steady sounds filled my ears, resonating
like vibrations.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

In a daze, I slowly woke up. Completely naked, I lay on my side on my master's lower abdomen, my hair scattered
, rising and falling gently with his breath and heartbeat.

His left arm was around my shoulder, his fingers slowly stroking my hair, a satisfied happiness enveloping me.
Then , a piercing pain shot through my body, like popcorn bursting in my joints.

"Ouch..." I groaned in pain.

"Slave..." My master noticed my reaction and said calmly, "...You're awake?"

This nickname, "Slave," made my control over my body even more concrete.
The feeling of being confined in the dog cage just now felt unreal, like a dream. However, the sensitivity of my two private orifices emphasized that I had indeed experienced
that training.

"Was it good, Xin'er?" My master lowered his head, smiling with narrowed eyes.

Immediately, I felt a surge of grievance, my nose stung, and tears welled up. I didn't know
why I felt so sad; perhaps it was because I had only been focused on my own pleasure and hadn't made my master feel the same way.
Throughout our time together, I always felt I hadn't given my master an equal return.

"Why are you crying?" he frowned. "Silly girl."

My master placed his hand on my head, stroking it affectionately. The two completely different
feelings of intertwined, indistinguishable. Suddenly, in a hazy state, I remembered those lines my master had recited:

"Yearning to possess, so I try to let go. Yearning to be deeply loved, so I pretend not to love too deeply."

The profound meaning spread through my heart.

"Ignoring my questions, are you planning to disregard me?" My master's voice immediately turned colder. "Xin Nu,
haven't you disciplined me enough?"

"No, Master," I quickly replied.

My ingrained slave nature prevented me from ignoring his words and actions. I quickly raised my head,
looking my master, begging for his forgiveness.

"Hmm." A thumb brushed aside my bangs, gazing into my eyes. "That's a good girl."

Then, the master's gaze shifted, returning to the horizontal line in front of me. For some reason, I heard
a muffled groan in my ear, but I didn't make a sound. The groan was faint, but I knew it was my own.

Strange? Where was it coming from?

Instinctively, I followed the master's gaze and turned to look at the television at the foot of the bed. The screen was brightly lit, showing
a close-up of a pair of full breasts, two delicate nipples hanging vertically, each adorned with a bright red nipple bell. The swollen
peaks revealed the blue veins beneath the skin, a visual feast against the pink skin.

Then, the bells jingled, and the woman inside cried out.

The camera panned to the back, revealing a pair of bright red buttocks, restrained by a dark iron cage. Two dildos of
different sizes took turns entering and exiting the vagina and anus. The rhythmic thrusting sounds were delightful, and abundant
love juices gushed forth, creating yet another captivating scene.

My face flushed crimson, and the image of the woman inside flashed through my mind…

The image shifted upwards, focusing on a full-length mirror. A woman with her hair piled up, chewing on a specially made dog bone,
moaned wantonly. It was indeed myself!

“Master!” I cried coquettishly, throwing myself into his arms.

“Don’t you like admiring your own slutty state?” Master grinned mischievously.

“No, Master,” I cried, my ears burning with shame, “Please spare your slave…”

This blissful feeling was my favorite moment during Master’s training. Being able to lie peacefully in his
arms, indulging in playful teasing like a child.

However… even sweet moments have their moments of awakening.

In the evening, we left the training room. My master kindly escorted me back to my student dormitory, but I was a little
reluctant to leave . After all, he was married and never stayed out overnight.

"Qi, I'll text you when I get home later," he called me by my real name. "See you next time."

"Okay."

Chapter Two

March, winter passed by unnoticed, and the sun came out. The warmth of the sun and the comfortable temperature
made the weather exceptionally pleasant. The lazy atmosphere made people relax unconsciously.

"This kind of weather is perfect for shopping on weekends!" my best friend Fanny said. She was a Chinese-American who
came here from overseas as an international student. Therefore, her every move was filled with her habitual American exaggeration, shouting:
"I can shop all day without getting tired!"

She always said this, but after shopping for about an hour, she would look for a nearby coffee shop,
ostensibly but actually to go in, enjoy the air conditioning, and relax.

There was no way around it; she was tall and plump and couldn't walk too much.

However, despite being only twenty-one years old like me, a fourth-year student at an ordinary university,
she wore a one-carat diamond ring on the ring finger of her left hand, signifying that she was already married.

Her husband, eight years her senior, was a Taiwanese businessman she met in an off-campus club. He frequently traveled between mainland China and mainland China, with a
promising . He was witty, humorous, handsome, and extremely self-disciplined, with no scandals whatsoever.
Therefore, even though Fanny was still an undergraduate, she trusted her husband completely and willingly
married him at a young age.

I often told her, "You're so lucky, your husband loves you so much."

"Your husband is great too," was her reply. "He's rich, owns a house,
is , and spends a lot of time with you. He's definitely happier than me."

Of course, I also know that my boyfriend has a good personality, is good-looking, and loves me very much. However, loyalty to
friends sometimes outweighs concern for girlfriends. He can
ignore me with a phone call or an invitation. So, I can't imagine what it would be like to marry this man.

...What if it were my master?

Hmm, I really can't imagine... Would I be like a henpecked husband, wholeheartedly taking care of my master's
daily , and then being subjected to sadomasochistic games by my master every night until bedtime?
Would my already wanton body be trained to be even more debased and utterly worthless, turning into my master's exclusive sex toy?

Just thinking about this makes my lower body naturally wet.

Ugh... I'm such a lustful slave...

Especially since I just received my master's training a few days ago, the lingering masochistic desires in my body haven't dissipated yet. Just
recalling that scene makes my vagina and anus contract incessantly. It's as if I'm telling myself, hoping that kind of
pleasure will come again.

Fanny ordered two iced orange juices, one with ice and one without. She likes to bite the ice cubes while drinking,
making a crisp crunching sound, with a blissful expression on her face. As for me, because of my master's request,
I dare not drink the iced drink.

So the two of them sat at a table outside the coffee shop, chatting and drinking. Suddenly, Fanny brought up
the topic of the future and marriage.

"Qi, after you graduate, are you going to continue your studies or go to work?" She took a deep sip of
orange juice . "Even if you don't go to school or work, your boyfriend should be able to support you, right? Why don't you just
register for marriage?"

"Hmm…yeah…" I

replied absentmindedly, my mind still racing. Fanny wasn't wrong; this wasn't the first time my boyfriend had discussed marriage with me. He wanted
me to marry into his family after graduation, to be a full-time housewife, serving his parents and him. However, in today's society,
the status of full-time housewives is generally quite weak. In my family's eyes, it was extremely unworthy. From my

parents' perspective, it was understandable that they were reluctant and unhappy about their daughter, whom they had raised for so many years, marrying into someone else's family and becoming a maid.

From my own perspective, I felt that women should have some savings and preferred to work, not rely on men for support.

"Think about it, you're newly married and already have money and a house, you don't need to worry about anything." She went on and on, "
All that's missing

is a car, and life will be wonderful. You just need to focus on taking care of your health, and you can prepare to be a mother." As soon as she finished speaking, I immediately blushed.

"What…" I retorted, "...What do you mean by 'preparing to be a mother'?"

"Pfft!" Fanny used a straw to scoop up some ice cubes from her glass, slowly nibbling on them,
teasing me with an ambiguous tone, "Why are you shy? I'm telling the truth! Isn't marriage all about wanting a child? Otherwise
, why get married? Just be boyfriend and girlfriend. These days, many things can't be done after marriage.
Don't tell me you've never had sex with your boyfriend."

"Um…" These sharp words left me speechless. I lowered my head, blushing, and stammered
, "...Yes, I have."

"Internal ejaculation, or with a condom?" Fanny pressed, seizing the opportunity. "Judging from your innocent appearance, I can tell you haven't
experienced the joys of sex yet. My husband, on the other hand, is like a honeymoon after a short separation. We make love as soon as we meet, three times a day plus a late-night snack,
leaving me completely exhausted, with a sore back and weak legs the next day. And he especially likes to ejaculate inside me without a condom
. Sometimes he's even perverted, playing with my anus with his fingers while he's with me."

She crunched on an ice cube, getting more and more excited as she spoke. I didn't agree, my face flushed, unsure of
what to say. I couldn't very well tell her that besides my boyfriend, I also had a dedicated SM master who, under his tutelage
, even without physical sex, had allowed my clitoris, vagina, and even anus to experience extreme
orgasms and unimaginable squirting.

"It's a pity we don't get to spend enough time together." She shrugged, a hint of regret in her voice. "
Besides , my belly isn't cooperating. We've been married for two years, and I still haven't given him a baby..."

I quickly comforted her, "Don't think too much about it, just let nature take its course."

"It's okay!" she immediately returned to her usual self. "Even without pregnancy, life is
still comfortable. But I'm so glad I got to experience the unique pleasures of being a woman so early. And it's even
legal."

She laughed heartily.

Then, she covered her mouth with her hand and whispered, pretending to be coquettish, "Qi, let me tell you something. I've been researching how to do enemas these past
few days ... Since my husband is so eager to play with his anus, I might as well let him have some fun and less
regret. I have to say, the feeling of an enema is quite wonderful, that feeling of all the filth going down the toilet is unexpectedly..."
"How comfortable it is."

Fanny recalled absently, a look of pleasure in her eyes.

Hmm... I kept my mouth shut, suppressing the honesty of my inner thoughts. I had experienced the feeling of enemas many times under my master's training
; it was practically one of the preparatory activities before the game.

If I had to say, what I loved most was being plugged with an anal plug and bound all over after the enema, kneeling before him
and begging for mercy, or being played with by all sorts of props. The pleasure of being released after enduring to the limit was
indescribable.

"Look at you—hehe, are you starting to fantasize too?" My best friend laughed lewdly. "If you're
interested, let's do it together another day, I'll give you the enema, hehe."

Glug!

I couldn't help but swallow, the image of my master performing the procedure appearing in my mind.

Fanny continued laughing, "Just like in those porn movies, they use a long, clear syringe, fill it with
water. Then, they press you down on the table, pull your underwear down to your knees, rub the needle against your anus
, and insert it. They slowly pour the water into your rectum. After enjoying your shy expression, they release
you, letting you cover your butt and rush to the toilet in a panic..."

"You're so annoying!"

Her words painted a vivid picture, making me think of my master's past training. Under my best friend's lewd talk
, my anus contracted and writhed with her voice, and my rectum cramped, as if I were being given an enema by my master
. As a result, my private parts secreted more fluid, sticking to my underwear, like the slippery feeling of menstruation
.

"Oh! Our Qi-ye, you can actually be shy." Fanny was just like a prostitute in a red-light district.
"Are you also feeling a little horny, you little slut?"

"No way." I pouted, pretending to be angry.

"When you have free time, why don't you watch some porn? It'll definitely help warm up your relationship,
" she suggested, explaining, "Of course, I don't mean you have to be as promiscuous and
obscene as the women in porn. After all, most of them are just acting, even faking moaning and climaxing. But the actresses and
actors are indulging in sex lewdly on that small screen. Do you think they're really doing it?" "

Isn't that right?" I asked, confused.

In my experience, I rarely watch porn. Most of the erotic films I've watched are filmed by
my master . They record the moments of their training with their master through video. Therefore, I
intuitively believe that the patterns in porn are also real.

"They're not doing it, they're just tempting you into that kind of world. Those moaning, thrusting
, abusing , and ejaculating acts are like sexual harassment, relentlessly teasing your vulnerable erogenous zones, like a pervert on a train
..." Fanny finished her glass of orange juice. "...You want to escape but can't, you want to scream but don't know how, you
can't resist, and finally you fall into it."

Then, she moved closer to my face, her high nose almost touching mine. In that instant,
the feeling of looking into my eyes was alluring, very sensual.

"You understand? It's like marriage." Fanny licked her lips. "Wrapped in a sweet sugar coating of worldly desires,
creating a beautiful scene, but not knowing what marriage tastes like? How to maintain it. Only those who have been married
understand the meaning of marriage. Relying solely on others' sharing and fantasies is like a bubble, illusory..." *

Smack!*

After saying that, she kissed my lips like a naughty child, the cool, sour taste of orange. Then, she downed the remaining ice cubes in
the glass , crunching them in her mouth.

"Ha! That's refreshing." She stretched contentedly. "Let's go, let's continue shopping."

Suddenly, I realized how unbelievable this married classmate was! Her attitude towards marriage was so strange
, it was as if I were meeting her for the first time.

In the evening, neon signs flashed in a dazzling array of colors. The city's nightlife was awash in a glittering, decadent atmosphere.

Fanny had an appointment with someone else and had left early. I, however, remained in the city, waiting for my boyfriend to have dinner with
me. Sure enough, as I expected, he
was still absent at our agreed time due to his friend's invitation.

I was annoyed but helpless. My boyfriend's message, "Sorry, I'll be late," sealed my fate, leaving me waiting
here. I could only play on my phone to kill the time.

Instinctively, I used a messaging app to update my status, and also to whine and complain
, asking for a pat on the back to soothe my wounded heart. As you can imagine, he was a little annoyed when he found out. He asked
where and offered to drive over to keep me company.

I quickly reassured him, assuring him I was fine.

After all, my master also has his own family, especially on weekends, which are a time for him to spend with them.

From my perspective, not disturbing his daily life is my
bottom line before we became master and slave, and it's also a matter of honesty from my master.

Thanks to smartphones and the ubiquitous internet, my master and I can use messaging apps
to ease our lingering sadness. The darkness and loneliness of the night prevent my negative emotions
from flooding out and overwhelming me. It wasn't

until an hour and a half later that my boyfriend finally arrived, driving late.

As usual, he explained his lateness. He had arranged to play mahjong with friends, but when the time came,
no one could take his place, so he couldn't leave the table. Being one player short could easily offend the other three and damage
their loyalty. That's why he was so late.

Naturally, our planned dinner reservation fell through, and we had to find another restaurant.

In the car, I rested my elbow on the passenger side window, absentmindedly watching the passing night scenery, the lights
flashing white and yellow. No smile, deliberately avoiding eye contact with my boyfriend—it was my way of expressing my emotions.

He understood my displeasure and anger, and while driving, he made reservations for another restaurant. Finally, we hurriedly ate dinner,
filling my stomach and palate, and returned to his rented apartment.

Hmm… I've always thought of myself as a woman who's easily moved to tears.

Enjoying a delicious meal, my boyfriend's apologies—even after dozens of similar situations, I ultimately choose to be
forgiving and understanding. Not to mention, I obediently went home with him instead of my school dormitory.

The reason is obvious…

the apartment is on the fifth floor, a 10-ping (approximately 3.3 square meters) suite, which my boyfriend's parents rented at great expense for him. After all, he…
He's the only son in the family. As usual, the first thing you see when you walk in is a filthy room piled high with clutter and trash.

Strangely enough, many of my friends' boyfriends are the same; there are very few exceptions.
It's as if men are genetically predisposed to a lack of tidying up. No matter how clean a room is,
it turns into a pigsty within three days.

Therefore, the first thing I do every time I arrive at his rented place is to tidy it up for him.

Conversely, my boyfriend habitually strips down to his underwear, grabs a drink from the fridge, immediately sits on
the sofa , and watches TV with the remote, taking my actions for granted. Even though we're in the same
room, it's like we're in two different worlds, worlds apart.

He laughs heartily while watching the program, while I'm like a maid, carrying a pile of cleaning supplies, sleeves rolled up,
working . Suddenly, I recalled my conversation with Fanny that afternoon… If I really married my boyfriend, would I be
happy, as she said?

Is it possible that after I turn thirty or forty, the same drama will endlessly play out every day?

I dare not imagine it, nor do I want to.

A thought flashed through my mind, and I thought of my master again…

Gentle and refined, self-disciplined and proactive, he put me at the center of everything, letting me wander in
the world he created for me. He was strict and dictatorial during training, but gentle and considerate at other times. I didn't need much trouble or complaint, just obedient obedience
was enough . It was an addictive intoxication, deeply inescapable. Compared to my boyfriend's childish words and actions,
it was like heaven and earth.

However, apart from these shortcomings, my boyfriend was also very good to me, so his flaws did not outweigh his virtues. Of course, if he could
improve , I would love him even more.

After getting ready, I went to the bathroom alone, took off my sweaty clothes, and prepared to wash up.

In the bathroom, there was a large wide mirror, supposedly left behind by the previous male tenant. I don't know what kind of perverted thinking
that landlord was having. Such a large mirror could
show my naked body from different angles at any time.

Hmm… this design flaw is easily exploited. If it's not a playboy, it's
the scene every fujoshi (female fan of male-male romance) loves…

so, ever since my boyfriend moved to this new apartment, he's fallen in love with making love with me in the bathroom. Although
showering is nice, the cramped space inevitably makes me feel uncomfortable.

*Splash! Splash!

* The faucet turns on, and the showerhead sprays water. A hot shower after a workout is always invigorating.

"Qi, I'm coming in to shower," my boyfriend calls from the living room. Without waiting for my reply, he
'll , "Hehe, let's shower together." With that sly grin, I know what he's up to. He perfectly embodies

the most passionate behavior between boyfriend and girlfriend . His youthful, energetic, strong body is only covered by underwear. Instantly, a strange scent wafts through the shower's dampness, transforming into a crimson trail, expanding the enclosed space. It's a mixture of male sweat and the pungent smell of his groin, thick and quickly filling my nostrils. It smelled awful, but it instantly put my nerves on edge. "What are you doing..." I covered my chest with one hand and my private parts with the other, frowning as I said, "...You always come in when I shower... Ugh! Like a little male dog in heat..." The more I complained, the more smug he became. His primal male instincts immediately overwhelmed his reason, and in a few quick movements, he pulled off his underwear and aggressively moved towards me. Even if I wanted to stop him, it was useless; he remained obstinate. It must be said that, regardless of age, this hunger and aggression for procreation is deeply ingrained . They don't need any learning; they can instinctively act on it. Even my master does this... My boyfriend hugged me from behind, and we were both immersed in the steam from the showerhead. His strong arms encircled my waist, and his burning body temperature radiated from my back. His entire body pressed tightly against mine without any gap. It was warm, very warm, even more intensely hot than the hot water shower above. I braced myself against the mirror, catching glimpses of my wet, hazy body reflected in the water droplets , mature and alluring. My breasts drooped, sculpted into delicate little cherries , flowing down to my flat stomach, disappearing into my tender buttocks. "Mmm...ah..." His intimate touch ignited me instantly. "...Let go..." I protested irritably, only to be ignored. My boyfriend's hands swept over my breasts, and I immediately felt my legs go weak. Then, his fingers climbed onto my nipples, expertly pinching and playing with them. An electric, stimulating pleasure surged through my body. "Mmm!" I moaned. I don't know why, but I could never resist his caresses, like a hungry stomach desperately needing nourishment from my boyfriend to fill my empty body. Then, I proactively asked him for more, like a greedy little cat. "Mmm..." My moans were drowned out by the sound of water, but I could clearly hear them myself, "...Oh... harder ... Oh... so good..." The large hand in the mirror kneaded my breasts, turning my skin a natural apple red. It spread to my collarbone, neck, and even cheeks, alluring and seductive, indescribably beautiful. I gazed at him, and he gazed at me. I squinted my eyes in enjoyment, my hair falling down, wet droplets clinging to my lips, eliciting a snicker from him: "Feels good, doesn't it? Your nipples are so hard." "Mmm..." I responded with a muffled groan. Suddenly, he tightened his grip, grabbing my sensitive nipple. I winced in pain, tilting my head back, glaring my boyfriend in the mirror. At that moment, I felt something hard pressing against my buttocks. Ugh... it was my boyfriend's penis, engorged and swollen. A sinful scene was unfolding before us. Even though I've seen myself like this many times, I still feel shy and wanton, making my face flush and my heart race, arousing my desire. In this respect, my boyfriend is very similar to my master, taking pleasure in embarrassing me. However… their methods are vastly different . One is direct in flirting, the other is restrained and coerced; it's hard to say which is better, but the latter makes my desire surge even more. However, I'm more relaxed with my boyfriend, on an equal footing, unlike the obedient . I control my emotions and the rhythm of sex. "Want to be fucked?" he asks bluntly, sucking on my earlobe, "to be fucked by my darling husband's big cock."

"Want me to enter your little hole?"

"Come on..." I twisted my body.

My boyfriend rubbed even harder, manipulating my two little nipples, constantly rubbing them between his fingertips. With the help of
warm water lubrication, the pleasure was doubled.

And, there was a mirror.

This wicked and lewd toy was simply designed to torture me. Both the owner and my boyfriend
liked to see me in heat.

"Mmm... Hah... No, don't play... Oh... Nipples... Oh..." I moaned softly,
my coquettish words sounding like a coy invitation, "...Mmm... My little hole... It's itchy... Hah..."

My lewd words made my boyfriend more and more excited, and I became more and more unbearable. Unconsciously, I twisted my buttocks,
lewdly guiding his penis to the right position. Under the caress of the warm water, the wet feeling spread through
my nerves.

...I want to be penetrated...

"Qi, I want you."

Just when I was about to lose my mind, my boyfriend also spoke. His usual frankness revealed
his truest desires.

"I...give it to me..." With him taking the lead, I naturally responded, "Insert...insert it in..." It was like

a scene before a big bad wolf devours Little Red Riding Hood.

The naked, alluring body, covered in clean droplets of moisture, made me want to lick it a few times—
that was lost in passion. My boyfriend kissed and caressed me, from my ears to my neck, playing with my breasts with one hand and
stroking my trembling body with the other.

He moved down, past my navel, to my wet, burning genitals. His hand explored the secret
place with practiced ease. Since following my master, I had developed the habit of shaving, which allowed my boyfriend to directly touch my most
sensitive spot.

"So wet...squeaking, is it because you're thinking about my big cock?" He asked knowingly, his fingers lightly
touching my clitoris, slowly pulling back the foreskin.

"Ugh!" I cried out in intense stimulation.

"Qi, your little hole is contracting non-stop." My boyfriend reminded me at the right moment, and swayed his hips,
thrusting in deeply: "Ah, it's in."

"Oh..." My mind went blank.

An indescribable sense of satisfaction filled the emptier part of me. With the final piece of
the design after my master's training, my body was complete.

"I want... umm..." I cravedly supported myself against the mirror, feeling my boyfriend's doggy style penetration all the way in.
"...So big, so full... haha..."

His penis unfurled inside my cavity like tea leaves, perfectly fitting my flesh walls. At the familiar angle,
it penetrated all the way to my core. Then, my whole body tingled with unbearable itchiness, pleasure surged wildly, as if my blood was surging,
carrying waves of joy that washed over me from head to toe.

Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!

My tender body, glistening with moisture, was being forcefully thrust into from behind by my boyfriend. A contradictory expression of resentment and
pleasure crossed my face—emotions beyond words.

My lips parted slightly, letting out a sweet moan. His tongue skillfully darted about, licking the sensitive nerves on my cheeks,
earlobes , and thick neck. The sounds of his sucking echoed continuously, seeping into my very
being.

"Mmm... harder... good, so good... ha... oh..."

I moaned incessantly, accompanied by my boyfriend's teasing of my nipples. From shyness to enjoyment, it culminated in a
torrent of sweet, wet fluids.

My legs parted slightly, and he thrust into me with all his might, indulging in primal instinct, procreation in the bathroom...

Chapter Three:

The Battle of the Intestines, a tapestry of passion and desire, the lovemaking between a man and a woman, savoring each moment of pleasure. From the bathroom to
the bedroom, from standing to lying down, our sweat and bodily fluids mingled, an unforgettable experience. Afterwards, my entire vagina
was filled with my boyfriend's hot, thick semen; I could feel the liquid flowing out with every movement.

It was wet and slippery, a feeling of complete satiation, like being stuffed. More specifically, it was like a parched desert
cactus receiving a timely rain, its thirsty cells quenched, restoring its life force.

My boyfriend, having finished his "service," was panting heavily, his eyelids twitching, like a stallion drained dry,
lying exhausted on the bed, not wanting to move. He hadn't been lying down for more than a few minutes before falling into a deep sleep, snoring softly.

"Snoring...snoring..." he breathed steadily.

In contrast, my sexual desire hadn't completely subsided; my heart was pounding, enjoying the hazy
afterglow of orgasm. Unconsciously, I relaxed against the headboard, savoring a moment of peace and comfort. This
sleepless night, alone, inexplicably reminded me of how I first met my master.

Like tonight, in the dead of night.

I vividly remember that time, the first time my boyfriend brought up our future plans, discussing marriage arrangements,
during the summer after we'd been dating for two years. Of course, we talked about it happily, dreamily, and with great anticipation.

Then, over the weekend, we invited both sets of parents to our first meeting at a high-end
rooftop restaurant with a beautiful view.

The food was delicious, my favorite Western cuisine, and the scenery was stunning, with mountains and water as a backdrop. Unfortunately, both sets of parents
were rather cold, and they didn't see eye to eye. Although it was just a simple meeting for dinner, a fierce undercurrent of conflict was brewing between the parents.

The dinner ended on a sour note.

Afterwards, I was caught in the middle of the conflict between my boyfriend and my parents, feeling like a pig looking in a mirror, caught between
two evils, leaving me physically and mentally exhausted, and gradually developing depression.

Anxiety, insomnia, and frequent sudden breakdowns and tears filled my nights. With no one to confide in
and no idea how to express myself, I blindly searched for ways to escape, trying smoking and drinking to numb
myself.

Unfortunately… the results were limited.

The bitter taste of cigarettes, unlike what others called a cure for loneliness, made my lungs feel uncomfortable and nauseous; my entire
respiratory tract was filled with the smell, causing frequent coughing. Alcohol only provided a temporary sense of euphoria; it felt great and
lightheaded , but the loneliness only intensified afterward. I couldn't understand why people said these two things could alleviate depression.

It must be a lie!

Since the effects weren't as expected, I looked for other ways to pass the time when everyone else was asleep and I was awake. I started
watching movies and reading novels extensively, and joined messaging groups, skimming through this vast, miscellaneous
collection to while away the nights.

Unintentionally, I came across the realm of SM, a subtle and indescribable world.

I became addicted, quickly, and without even knowing why, I fell madly in love with this forbidden secondary sexual
culture. I was intoxicated by countless novels, photos, and
films inexplicably helped to metabolize my long-accumulated negative emotions.

I felt like the protagonist of these stories, experiencing torture and transcending
the shackles of the body to elevate my soul. Gradually, I began to fantasize daily about being possessed by a master I willingly submitted to,
to be wantonly insulted, abused, and tormented, with my body and soul firmly under his control.

Whether in daily life or even during sex with my boyfriend, I would unconsciously fantasize about various
BDSM scenarios, becoming incredibly aroused and masturbating to orgasm, regardless of time or place.

Classrooms, stairwells, dormitories—anywhere safe and secluded was my
playground , leaving behind traces of debauchery…

But the more I indulged, the less satisfied I felt. Even after reaching my peak, my mind was filled with the urge for more masochistic and depraved acts,
yet I didn't know how to alleviate this suffocating feeling. Relying solely on my fantasies felt like something was missing; I
couldn't experience the ultimate pleasure I craved. In this state of burning masochism, I turned my attention to my boyfriend. I made

suggestive advances during sex, but he showed no interest whatsoever. He thought it was because he had become more vigorous and
capable , easily bringing me to orgasm, greatly increasing his confidence and pride.

With no other choice, I impulsively
declared myself master to a man I frequently chatted with and had feelings for in a SM group.

At that moment, I felt strangely calm. It was like a key entering a lock, easily opening the deepest hole in my heart,
releasing my true self.

Quite unexpected and impulsive, two novice masters and slaves intertwined in a unique
bond . During this period, every day was a novel enjoyment, filled with an intense and intimate relationship that even surpassed
the years . I wanted to chat and flirt with him anytime, anywhere, day and night.

As for my boyfriend, he remained oblivious to my melancholy, completely unaware of my inner turmoil. This clandestine
behavior, however, also filled me with a sense of dread, yet I was also captivated and intoxicated by it.

Thankfully, it was just online flirting; otherwise, I might have ruined my entire life.
After , the man's words lost their charm and gentleness from before I became his devoted follower. Beyond chatting, he demanded more about
my real-life privacy, such as my real name, personal information, nude photos,
and , acting superior and showing no respect whatsoever.

Even in front of other friends in group chats, he maintained a masterly demeanor, restricting everything and calling me
"bitch" or "slut," severely damaging others' perceptions of me and eroding friendships.
Friends who used to joke around with me gradually fell silent.

Therefore, a nameless fear permeated my heart; this was not the master-slave relationship I desired. Not long after, I decisively
chose to leave him! I fled, abandoning all means he could contact me, ensuring he could never find me again.

Predictably, the consequence of this retreat was returning to a solitary and empty realm, once again entangled in melancholy,
wandering aimlessly in the silent night, night after night.

Until about half a year ago, on a whim, I joined an unusual local SM group. The group members were all like-minded people who enjoyed SM and writing, often creating various erotic and sadomasochistic interpretations
through a chain-reaction approach . Among them was a man who claimed to be thirty years old, who, through his unique emotional writing style, moved among the many women in the group, crafting countless BDSM scenarios with completely different styles, such as rape, pure love, science fiction , modern themes, torture, outdoor exposure, etc., which amazed and impressed me. According to him, he was an amateur writer, specializing in erotic SM literature. And these girls were happy to reveal their most hidden, innocent, and submissive nature in front of him, even publicly in the group chat, without any concern. Each encounter left both sides thoroughly satisfied, and some girls, under his half-seduction and half-coercion, boldly shared their current physical states in the group chat. Phrases like "My pussy is soaking wet," "My panties are so sticky," and "I want to kneel before you and beg you to fuck me"—bizarre and explicit displays of wantonness, as if hypnotized. Some even posted real-time photos and short videos, shamelessly flirting in the group chat, just to satisfy his demands and desires. Unbelievable… yet I couldn't help but believe, filled with curiosity. In this morally constrained Chinese society, how could anyone dare to openly admit their sexual desires, even publicly in a group chat? However, in the online world, whatever you say, ensuring your own safety isn't such a big deal. No amount of speculation could change the fact that this man's writing style so easily entered my heart, triggering my insatiable masochistic desires and drawing me involuntarily into the storylines. I fantasized that I was one of the women he described, experiencing different forms of discipline. I suddenly realized that while reading his articles, I would masturbate, and I would read them repeatedly, indulging in this spiritual communion of discipline, experiencing unprecedented pleasures and being filled with astonishment. So, I once again mustered the courage to take the risk. Outside the public chat group, I secretly contacted him— my dear master, Ting Sheng. Heaven was merciful; my master was slightly surprised and puzzled by my initial impulse, subconsciously building up a cold and indifferent resistance, though retaining a trace of tenderness. According to him, not many people would seek him out privately; most used him as a human massage stick to relieve their momentary lust. Afterwards, they would discard him, only contacting him when they felt like it. This caused my master a lot of unnecessary trouble and embarrassment. Gradually, he created a lonely and cold atmosphere for our conversations. After several deep conversations, under his guidance and instruction, I awakened a long-lost self. I realized that the pleasure my master experienced with others was far less intense than the pleasure he felt when interacting with me. It was like watching someone else light a bomb, and the difference between that and lighting one myself created a violent and enormous storm of desire that tore my soul into pieces, which he then pieced back together. Quite simply, I succumbed to his grasp… In the end, I fell into his clutches and became my master 's exclusive slave. Not long after, I even took the initiative to invite my master to meet and share some precious private time. I remember that day was a Monday, the weather was sunny and bright, and my master and I agreed to meet near the school at nine o'clock in the morning.

We were to meet at the train station. To make a good first impression, I went to the salon beforehand for a haircut and perm, and bought a
light pink dress with ruffles at the chest, paired with cute high heels adorned with butterflies. I arrived at the station half
an hour to wait.

…I hoped my master would praise me when he saw me.

Needless to say, I followed his instructions, tying my hair in a ponytail to reveal his beloved white neck, and wearing
a silver chain resembling a choker, subtly hinting at my wanton slave status, hoping he would notice
my little scheme.

As the appointed time drew closer, I became increasingly nervous. I worried that my master might
have something come up and couldn't make it. My mind was filled with negative thoughts as I paced back and forth in the station hall,
looking around anxiously.

At 8:55, five minutes before our agreed-upon 9:00, my master finally appeared.

To my surprise, he wasn't dressed in a gentleman's suit and shirt, but rather in very fashionable youthful attire. A black crew-neck
top, iron-gray fitted trousers, and a white faux-blazer—he exuded style and youthfulness.
A dark brown leather briefcase completed his look, making him appear like a trendy man in his early twenties.

Without a word, his aura alone told me he was my master at Ting Sheng.

The figure drew closer, his features becoming clearer. Short, neat hair, straight, thick eyebrows, full, sensual lips,
and deep eyes hidden behind blue metallic rims. Without hesitation, he walked straight towards me.

"You're Qi... no, Xin'er." He stood in front of me and said matter-of-factly, "I'm Ting Sheng.
Nice to meet you."

His soft, deep voice, calling out my nickname "Xin'er," sent a shiver down my spine
, my heart pounding with the nervousness of first love. Suddenly, I didn't know what to say...

"Um..." I blushed and lowered my head, too shy to move. "...Hello."

"I've arrived. Sorry to keep you waiting." He smiled, incredibly charming, and extended his hand in invitation.
"Let's go."

"Okay..."

Perhaps my reaction was too shy, because he casually hooked his arm around mine, as if to
ease my nervousness. Then, he tilted his head slightly to look at me and suddenly kissed me.

Oh!

In the middle of a crowded train station, I never expected
him to —bold, natural, and completely unpretentious. His lips were soft, with a faint minty scent. His
kiss left me speechless, my mind blank, unsure how to react.

My cheeks flushed instantly; I knew they were burning red. This kiss dispelled my embarrassment, arousing a
subservient desire within me for my master. My honeyed depths uncontrollably gushed forth a torrent of fluid. For the first time in my life,

I…I was wet…before the face of someone I was meeting for the first time.

His eyes, behind his glasses, gleamed with a bewitching light. He released my lips, leaving a lingering, hot
taste and moisture. His smile flattened into a horizontal line, and he calmly whispered in my ear, "Go to
the toilet now, take off your underwear. Wait, I need to check."

What…training? Had the training begun?

My brain froze, I was completely dumbfounded. Wasn't our first meeting supposed to be about chatting and eating? Why
this sudden turn of events?

Caught off guard, my mind raced, unable to find any answers. Despite this, my body reacted strongly and
intensely, overwhelming my reason and morality. The joy and pleasure of this command, the craving for the ensuing
humiliation, sadism, and unknown yet anticipated stimulation—all fueled my desire.

"Don't move!" my master added.

"Yes…" I uttered instinctively, "...Master."

My face flushed so much I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. It was just a simple command, yet I
felt an overwhelming urge to kneel and submit. Waves of pleasure erupted throughout my body, shattering my
last shred of composure.

Even the title "Master" slipped out.

Dazed, like a puppet on strings, I was led uncontrollably to the bathroom by my master
. When I regained my senses, my right hand clutched a wad of lace fabric—my
underwear .

Oh God! How could I have done such a thing…?

My master then embraced my slender waist, his eyes filled with omniscient understanding. Seemingly satisfied with my performance,
he nodded slightly and decisively said, "Put your underwear in the inner pocket of my coat."

"Yes, Master," I replied in a whisper, obediently complying.

"Yes...that's right, very good..." he said magnetically.

The role I played inside had shifted from "Qi" to "Xin'er," merging the online and real worlds.
Under this double surge, I suddenly lost myself, losing my autonomy. My right hand, holding the underwear, obediently reached into
my master's coat pocket, placing it firmly, silently telling myself—

I am my master's slave. I must obey his demands.

Tension, shame, and all sorts of emotions completely different from my usual self lingered deep within my body, like an
unbearable itch, wave after wave. Clinging to my master's arm, all my nerves were tense, and I kept
glancing around, completely burying my head in the sand.
It was .

Next, we went to the south side of the station, where there was a lovely little coffee shop.

The decor was elegant, the lighting bright, and the walls featured a walnut wood grain design. The simple European-style chairs, bathed in
sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, were surprisingly fitting and charming amidst the aroma of coffee beans. Feeling chilly

with my bare bottom, I followed my host into the shop. As soon as the door opened, I was enveloped by the delicious
aroma , and my initial tension instantly eased.

"Welcome, how many are in your party?" the waiter immediately greeted us, asking, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Two, we have a reservation," my host replied, giving his surname and phone number, speaking with practiced ease. "Could you please arrange
for us to sit by the window on the second floor?"

"Sure, please wait a moment."

A few minutes later, my host and I were seated at a couples' table on the second floor, a slightly secluded spot. A large
floor-to-ceiling window stood before us, above which was a vintage-style crystal chandelier. The table was a square, obsidian-colored piece, furnished with
two burgundy fabric sofas with armrests.

On the table were two exquisite white porcelain mugs, with wisps of smoke and fragrance wafting around them.

My drink was a hazelnut latte, my master's was a mocha cider, and there was also a plate of fragrant marinated beef and cheese
sandwiches , making my mouth water and my mouth water. I hesitated to make a move, looking at
my master with a mixture of expectation and fear of being hurt. Like a little puppy waiting for "start eating," I hoped my master would speak soon.

He smiled and said slowly, "You can eat now, Xin'er."

"Yes, Master." With permission granted, I happily began to eat.

After all, I got up early and went straight to getting ready, rushing out the door in a hurry. I had no
appetite , but was only looking forward to seeing my master. Surprisingly, he had anticipated that I hadn't eaten breakfast and specially
ordered sandwiches for me, specifically for me.

In no time, I finished the whole plate of marinated beef and cheese sandwiches, and even drank almost all of my latte. I
licked the bread crumbs sticking to my lips, still wanting more. I must say, the slightly salty sandwich paired with the rich
latte was an indescribably delicious combination.

And compared to the light meals at typical cafes, the sophistication and charm of this little shop were truly exceptional.

The owner across from me didn't utter a single word, just watching me eat with keen interest, not missing a single
detail . His right hand rested on the armrest of the sofa, sipping his mocha, occasionally
the steam from the cup fogging his glasses, but he didn't seem to care.

His left hand rested on the table, his index finger tapping occasionally, the meaning of which I couldn't decipher. Later
I learned it was a habitual gesture when he was thinking.

"Hmm, finished eating?" He took another sip of coffee, looking very intellectual and refined. His eyes darted down
, staring at the empty plate without the sandwich, and he asked疑惑地问道, "Xin'er, don't you like onions?"

"Ugh!" My heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Deliberately concealed, there were only two slices of onion on the plate, looking as if they were left over from too much fiber.

For some reason, the owner saw through my act.

*Thump.*

He put down his coffee cup, resting it lightly on the table, and reached out to pick up the two onion slices I had left. He turned his palm up, placing
the onions in his hand, and said slowly, his eyes narrowed, "Wasting food is bad… Lower your head and lick it clean like
a dog , understand?"

Each word was enunciated clearly. He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if afraid I wouldn't understand.

Immediately, I frowned… The smell and bitterness of onions had always made them a picky eater for me. Fortunately, it was
a weekday morning, and there was no one around except our group of customers. Therefore, the owner was so bold as to
directly lay his palm in front of me, leaving me hesitant and unsure what to do.

"Do it!"

Ugh! The effect of this direct reprimand far exceeded the shock of words. Although the tone was
calm , the stern authority allowed no room for resistance. Or rather, ever since we met, I've
been unable to resist him.

"Hoo... Waaah..." I pouted, looking pitiful, "...No..."

This pouting, coquettish plea was always my best defense against my master. In the past, when he gave me punishment
orders , this expression was all it took for him to soften.

Subconsciously, I adopted this tactic.

"I won't say it a second time," my master glared at me fiercely. "Xin'er, do it!"

His uncompromising gaze terrified me, leaving me helpless. Suddenly, I felt my master's figure
grow , like a mountain, pressing down on me

, making it hard to breathe. "Waaah... Yes..." I had no choice but to obey.

I lowered my head to meet his gaze, slowly bringing my lips closer—twenty centimeters, fifteen centimeters, ten
centimeters , five centimeters... until they were almost touching his palm, then I stopped.

My lips parted slightly, my tongue darting out. Soft, tender flesh wrapped around the onion-like flesh of his palm.

...It tastes awful...

A wave of disgust washed over my taste buds. I wanted to vomit but dared not. Even with my mouth full of saliva
, it was useless. Instinctively, I made a face contort in disgust.

"Chew, swallow!" My master saw through my plan to swallow it whole and stopped me.

"Yes..." I closed my eyes and chewed, squeezing out the juices from the onion, releasing
even more of that pungent, disgusting taste.

Glug!

It was unpleasant, humiliating, and filled with resentment, yet I had no choice but to obey. After a struggle,
I finally swallowed this vile food.

"Heh, not bad." My master grinned smugly. Then, he took out
a wet wipe from his handbag and slowly wiped the grease off his palms.

This scene made me feel a little relieved...At least he didn't make me lick his palms...Being forced to eat
onions was already pitiful enough. If I had to lick the remaining juice clean, I promise I'd cry.

However, this real-life experience of being forced into this situation far surpassed the shock of reading about it. My entire being felt a surge of desire
, like water being poured into a sapling.

Then, my master took out a bulging brown paper bag from his purse, seemingly full of something.
A chilling fear gripped me from within the opaque bag.

"Master…" I asked weakly, "…what's inside?"

"You'll find out when you open it," he replied calmly. Turning to the side, he intently surveyed his surroundings, muttering
knowingly to himself, "Luckily, there are no cameras from this angle…"

A shiver ran down my spine, and I asked again, unsure, "Master, what did you say?"

"I said, it's quite safe here for now," he answered calmly.

What?!

My heart pounded, a wave of unease washing over me, a feeling of being bullied rising within me. I felt as if I was about to
face an even greater challenge of masochism, right now.

It looked like the bag contained something that would terrify me, but I didn't know what it was.

"Now, open the paper bag." My master raised an eyebrow, his expression malicious. "
Put everything inside on, right here."

Ugh!

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"I said, empty the contents and put them on, right here," my master said decisively. "Do I
need to repeat myself?"

"No…Master."

I hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out and grabbing the paper bag. The bag felt heavy, like my feelings.
Under my master's gaze, I lowered my head, feeling both ashamed and fearful, and opened the brown paper bag…

Chapter Four

A pink butterfly massager, a special metal anal plug, a bundle of bright red cotton rope, a brand-new jar

of Vaseline , and a pack of alcohol wipes were neatly and quietly placed in a paper bag, revealing the owner's personality and meticulousness.

Each item was a tool the owner habitually used to train me via text, voice, and video. It seemed familiar, yet unexpectedly strange. This whole set was identical

except for the anal plug, which was slightly different from the one in my dorm . Wow! My fear subsided considerably, but my body still trembled uncontrollably. But… how could this be ?! Besides the last three items, how could the first two be brought out in this setting? This is a coffee shop! "Master… can… please not…?" I asked shyly, my voice trembling. "…It's too… too shameful…" My body's masochistic desire betrayed my heart, my eyes fixed on the items inside. I clearly wanted to refuse, but my plea sounded more like shy coyness. My lips were dry; the taste of food and coffee mingled, a unique bittersweet flavor. In a daze, my right hand had already reached into the paper bag, touching those toys I both loved and hated. "Hiss..." I gasped. The feel and the appearance were exactly the same as the treasured items hidden in my dorm drawer—the set of training tools my master had bought for me. "Do you need me to teach you how to use them?" my master reminded me at the right moment, a smile like a crescent moon on his lips. "I'd be happy to." Ugh! Once again, under my master's words, I felt my genitals contract violently, squeezing out the slippery . I quickly squeezed my legs together, but the pleasure overflowed, and I clearly felt the pink clitoris rubbing against my underwear. "No, no, no..." I hurriedly refused, my teeth chattering. An indescribable shame washed over my soul and body, like a fatal attraction, an addiction I couldn't bear to break . My right fingertips had already touched the jar of Vaseline, the clear, odorless liquid resting on the table. "Huff...huff...huff..." I breathed heavily, "...ha...huff..." Slowly, the lid opened, revealing a milky white, semi-transparent paste. This skin-lubricating product was the most agonizing instrument of discipline for me. Especially after my master ordered me to shave my smooth genitals, covered in a thick layer of Vaseline, that torturous time would continue from day to night. Slippery and sticky, no matter what I did, it felt like being constantly caressed, yet it was also the preparation my master made before each session. Click! The lid popped open, and my middle finger scooped up a thick ball. Under my master's indifferent gaze, I shyly slipped the Vaseline into my bare skirt, where I wasn't wearing underwear, and applied it to my bare vulva. "Ugh..." I squinted, biting my lip and moaning softly. I could feel my master's gaze in front of me, admiring my humiliating actions. And then, to prevent my mischievousness, she added , "You need my asshole too, don't forget. Not just the outer layer, but the inner layer as well, at least two finger joints." ...She didn't give me even the slightest chance. The cool touch on my genitals felt like a weak electric current, one wave after another, pumping into my sympathetic nerves , amplifying and increasing. I also realized that being disciplined in public, that inexplicable fear of being discovered at any moment, was invisibly increasing my body's sensitivity. Wriggling, twitching, the contraction and release of my opening were my most direct expressions of intimacy. Sticky, lustful fluids had long since filled my slits. Now, with the help of Vaseline, my buttocks were like a door covered in honey, ready to be breached at any moment. "Mmm... Oh..." The tender flesh was hot, slippery, and wet, teasing me with my fingers, tantalizing my thirsty desire to be penetrated, moaning, "...Ha-hoo... Oh-mmm..." My legs couldn't stay closed, and my fingers continued to tease me, as if under hypnosis, repeatedly applying Vaseline, faithfully carrying out my master's commands, my entire lower body covered in Vaseline, including my anus. A burning desire consumed me, driving me wild with passion. Finally, I finished, looking up at my master. He smiled, taking another sip of his rich mocha from his mug , as if savoring my actions like a side dish. His left fist rested on his cheek, and he slowly said, "What about next? What should we do? We'll do it as we say." Indeed, my master had no intention of letting me go. The increasingly forceful and coercive commands showed no sign . Like squeezing toothpaste, he squeezed out my shame little by little until it was all gone. "Master...no..." I felt my heart was about to burst, I could almost hear . I put on a coquettish expression, trying to gain his pity, "...Here, no..." "Say it, say it clearly!" Master was merciless, glaring at me coldly, "Then, do it!" "Yes..." Resistance was futile, I pouted helplessly, "...Master." My hands had already opened the alcohol wipes and carefully wiped the two toys in the paper bag to disinfect them. However, this feeling of exposure and humiliation also made me bolder, enjoying the increasingly intense surge of desire, and gradually took the toys out of the paper bag. Pop! The sound of a bubble of restraint being popped echoed in my heart. The rupture of that membrane also made me relax . Following Master's wishes, I, ashamed and embarrassed, took the butterfly vibrator and the metal anal plug out onto the table . Across from me, his eyes lit up. He looked slightly surprised and appreciative of my actions, his whole body becoming excited . "Slave... Xinnu..." I loosened my clenched lips, "...I'm applying... Vaseline... to Butterfly and... and the anal plug ..." After saying that, I admired my own courage. My vulva and anus were incredibly wet. Thick, lustful fluid mixed with Vaseline flowed into my rear. This unimaginable scene appeared before my master, whom I was meeting for the first time. His smile widened, his usually calm emotions fluctuating. He faced me, quite satisfied, but his eyes kept darting left and right, probably checking my surroundings. In the large second floor of the coffee shop, even in a secluded corner, I could still be discovered. Yet, my master's thoughtful actions warmed me; the feeling of being valued was reassuring and comforting. "Are you sure you've applied the lubricant?" My master slightly moved his sofa chair, using his body to block me from view.

This added another layer of protection to my bold actions. "Next, what should I do?"

He then waited for my next move.

I knew very well that he liked my shy, lewd words; the more embarrassed and wanton I was, the happier he was. I also
sensed my master's desire. With my left hand, I pulled up the hem of my dress, slightly parted my tense legs,
and gazed at him with what I considered my most alluring eyes, my face flushed. I symbolically kissed the butterfly on my lips, and then
slowly inserted it into my vagina.

"Mmm... Master, it's inside my cunt..." I said seductively, my lips half-open.

The vibrating dildo attached to the butterfly was easily swallowed by my vagina, stretching and pressing the inner folds of flesh together
, allowing me to clearly feel the texture. The ample lubrication meant no pain at all; instead,
I felt throbbing, eager anticipation for the dildo to begin moving. Or rather, ever since that surprise
kiss , I haven't been able to suppress the lust within me, which has been flowing endlessly.

Now, my former fantasies have become reality, and my mind is beyond my control, controlled by my body, following
my master's commands.

"The rest of the anal plug, understand?" He raised his right index finger and drew a counter-clockwise circle, explaining the movements
. "Turn around, kneel on the sofa, spread your buttocks, and insert it all the way in."

The instructions became more and more scathing with each one, the exaggerated actions pressing on my sense of shame, letting the lewd "Xin Nu"

burst out of the phone screen, displayed in the world with unparalleled realism, without reservation. It was as if my primary personality was being
imprisoned, and my secondary personality was beginning to emerge.

Ugh...

my consciousness kept clashing and conflicting, but a voice kept telling me, "You can't turn back, this is the dream you've
longed . You are your master's slave, Xin Nu," and the bright eyes of my master waiting for me intertwined into an invisible
chain, binding me and suppressing me deep within the mountain called "sadomasochism."

"Yes, Master."

I couldn't believe I'd uttered such the crucial word of submission, agreeing to this shameful command.

Shoes off, I turned and lay face down on the sofa, all my senses reveling in the masochistic pleasure, willingly
becoming a slave, obediently following my master's orders. Through my hazy eyes, it was as if I were observing myself,
cleverly adopting a third-person perspective, watching my lewd appearance before my master.

My upper body lay on the sofa, knees bent, buttocks raised, my cleft naturally widening, blooming into a dazzling,
glistening flower. My left hand pulled my skirt up to my waist, exposing my round, sexy buttocks. The light brown opening
was wrinkled, covered in traces of vaginal fluid and Vaseline. Not to mention, my pink cleft was tinged with crimson.

Looking back, my eyes shyly misty, meeting my master's pupils, my right hand grasping the metal anal plug, inserting it into
my anus.

"Oh…" The first round bead widened my anus, causing a slight soreness. The squeezing, writhing, contracting sensation
was incredibly .

"Oh..." The second bead opened a little wider, penetrating deeper. The sphincter contracted at
the junction of the two beads, fitting even tighter.

"Ugh!" The third bead was fully inside. The thick, smooth friction stirred the sensitive nerve
pathways in my rectum. The moment it entered, I almost couldn't hold on any longer, teetering on the edge of orgasm.

It was both uncomfortable and torturous; not being able to orgasm at will was pure torture. Especially with both my front and back holes
filled, separated only by a thin membrane, I could feel the two toys subtly moving and
operating .

My mind tightened, my muscles tensed. A fatal wave of overwhelming pleasure instantly engulfed me. I
was immediately overcome with uncontrollable, intense agitation; a tingling, itchy sensation gripped the depths of my skin, driving me mad.

I felt dizzy, yet my reason remained clear. I was addicted to the experience of real-life discipline, and even on my first try,
I found myself unable to escape this quagmire. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank; no matter how hard I tried, I was still sinking.

"Going crazy, aren't you?" My master left the sofa, grabbing a red rope and coming to my side.

"Huff... um... ha, master..." The rope end rubbed against my cheek, brimming with a desperate
yearning to be bound and restrained. "...Spare... oh... please, my slave..."

I begged for mercy while twisting my hips, enjoying the intense stimulation of being subjected to this lewd abuse. Completely oblivious to the dangerous environment I
was in a public place where even the slightest mistake could ruin my life. At that moment, I was intoxicated by
the pleasure of humiliation, lost and unable to extricate myself. Whatever my master asked, I would faithfully obey.

Snap!

The rope tightened, pressing against my wet lips. It forced open my two rows of neat teeth, cruelly digging into
my mouth. Then, left and right, right and left, the tug-of-war making my lips ache.

"Ooh...it hurts..."

"Little slut, this is just the beginning." The master wrapped the rope around four more times, increasing its thickness and squalor, and
tied a knot behind my head. "Raise your head and bear it."

*Smack!*

My buttocks were slapped hard, the pain shooting to my head, and I was forced to raise my head. But the slap caused
my juices to flow freely.

"Ugh..." I had barely uttered a sound when I realized the master was at it again. He

quickly pulled the remaining rope down, pressing it against my back, through my buttocks where the toy was stuffed, and down to
my navel. He tied a knot, wrapped it around, and skillfully made a thong in the blink of an eye.

Then, he took out his phone from his pocket and pointed it at me, capturing the brilliant moment:

"Freeze, don't move!"

*Click.*

The flash blinded me, leaving a white blur.

This was a photo of outdoor humiliation, becoming one of the most beautiful images from my first real-life experience. In front of the sun-drenched
floor-to-ceiling mirror, a pure and beautiful woman in a pink dress, her hair tied in a ponytail, knelt helplessly on a burgundy
sofa. Her dress was lifted, revealing her round, white buttocks and private parts. She wasn't wearing underwear, but rather a vulva filled with
sexually suggestive toys and metal anal plugs, bound by a red rope and thong. The masochistic

image I had always dreamed of was exactly what I felt.

Afterwards, I don't know how I left the café. Perhaps the entire experience was too humiliating and shameful, causing
gaps in my memory.

I vaguely remember the owner taking many alluring photos from various angles before untying the red rope from my mouth,
leaving only the thong, and leading me, dazed and lost in masochistic desire, onto the street.
The noisy environment and polluted air made me realize I had left my seat on the second floor.

...How could I have walked out like this without any resistance? It's so, so embarrassing...

Afterwards, we went into the underground shopping mall next door.

I was shocked to discover that the two things inside me were simply a powerful weapon for conquering women. I thought that my
online training would make me used to the teasing of these two devices, and I was confident that I could endure it for a long time. But I
only realized in practice that walking and lying in bed are like heaven and hell.

Less than ten meters of stairs felt like walking on a park's fitness trail. Every step I took
triggered the nerves in my lower body. Squeezing, twisting, and assaulting a series of indescribable pleasures, pricking my
delicate body . The sensitivity of my body made me more clearly experience the operation of the butterfly and anal plug.

My anus was filled, wanting to contract but being ruthlessly expanded. The peristalsis of my rectum caused my vagina to tighten and relax in
a cycle. The thought of begging to be penetrated and ravaged by a man's penis gradually grew stronger.

The nectar wanted to flow out, but was blocked by the butterfly, only able to squeeze out
a little relaxation. Moreover, my body instinctively wanted to push these two things out, but I didn't expect the restraint of the trousers,
always managing to let out a slight gap before being pushed back in.

The repeated torment tore and tugged at my soul, endlessly cycling through the process of disintegration and reconstruction...

My master's pace wasn't fast, but his steps were large, each stride covering two steps, giving me a
strange feeling of being forced to keep up yet unable to.

"Master... can... can you slow down?" I asked breathlessly as I reached the landing halfway up the stairs.

The stairs, which I usually didn't pay much attention to, seemed exceptionally long today. Before I even reached the halfway point, my legs felt weak and
powerless, and I couldn't continue. The intensity of this first real-life discipline was stronger than I had imagined.

He paused, then whispered wickedly, "The slower you go, the longer it'll take."

His gentle, refined mask slowly faded, replaced by the cruel, stern face of a master, reminding me of the scene at
the coffee . His malicious gaze fixed on me as I tried to cower away. Then, his left hand
awkwardly slipped into his left pocket, his intentions clear. Suddenly, a jolt of fear flashed through my mind; I instinctively
knew my master was about to play another prank on me.

Sure enough, my jinx came true.

Buzzing…

I completely forgot about the butterfly inside my vagina, its built-in motor capable of being remotely controlled. Then it dawned on me—
the remote wasn't in the paper bag; my master had carried it with him, not forgotten it. A sudden vibration from my vagina
and clitoris sent me sprawling.

"Ugh!" I choked out, staggering.

Compared to the humiliating photography in the coffee shop, the humiliation of being forcibly controlled on the stairs surged through my brain with double
the intensity , coursing through my body, welcoming wave after wave of attacks. Meanwhile, my master,
seemingly prepared, held my waist, which only made the motor vibrate more noticeably! !

...It's definitely my master's doing...

The passersby were less than half a meter away, extreme fear gripped my heart, as if it were about
to burst from my mouth, my adrenaline surging wildly. My unusual appearance drew their suspicious gazes,
and I felt as if I were being scanned, terrified of being seen through.

"Mmm." I covered my mouth, preventing a groan from escaping.

I gritted my teeth, feigning composure, pressing my right hand against my lower abdomen, my knees pressed tightly together, pretending to be slightly uncomfortable,
appearing guilty. Despite this, the butterfly's operation continued relentlessly, actually increasing its speed, attacking my
sensitive spots.

"Xin'er, are you alright?" My master feigned concern, but his eyes held a look of amusement.

...Ugh, this is so mean...

"Giggle...giggle..." My teeth were chattering, my eyelids drooping as I endured it, mouthing a plea:
"...

Spare...my slave..."

*Plop!*

My struggles backfired. The consequence of forcibly suppressing my desire was a warm current playfully
resisting me. I didn't know if it was vaginal fluid or urine, but it soaked my panties.

...Oh dear! How could this happen...did I lose control of my bladder?

"Ugh." After the warmth subsided, my body went limp, and with a weak, exhausted moan, I leaned against my master, dizzy.
In fact, my face was so red that I couldn't face anyone, and I didn't want anyone to see it. It felt

like an orgasm, but not quite, just a tiny bit short, still an area I couldn't reach.

In that crucial next second, the toy inside me abruptly went out, as if under my master's precise control, it didn't even have the right to climb to its peak
on its own .

The base was all muddy, gradually wetting my thighs.

"Is it incredibly pleasurable...?" He put his arm around my shoulder and whispered, "...You're still
far it, Xin Nu. This road ahead is long..."

He then supported my slender waist, kneading my inner thighs forcefully, using the pain to enhance my focus and
keep going.

I don't know how to describe it... It feels like from the moment we met, the entire rhythm has been controlled by my master
, leaving me unable to even refuse. Every word, action, and inner reaction of mine is exactly what he envisioned, completely
under his control.

He constantly guides and provokes me, pushing me to my limits. Even these stimulating and daring training programs are far
removed from the erotic scenes described in texts, faithfully recreated one-to-one.

Many memories I only vaguely recall are slowly awakening and becoming clearer. The training methods my master once spoke of
are forming images in my mind. I collect, organize, and arrange them neatly.

My body was writhing with wanton desire, my two orifices itchy and throbbing. If it weren't for my last shred of reason reminding me that this was a public
place , I might have knelt before my master, or exposed my genitals, assuming any position he dictated, begging him
to fuck me hard, to destroy me, even if it meant ruining me.

It was unbelievable that I, so deeply infatuated with this masochistic act, could even abandon my human dignity, willingly becoming his
slave, his bitch, his sex toy. I only sought to fill the loneliness in my heart, the emptiness in my body.

"Hoo...uh...oh hoo..." I gasped heavily.

My master, however, gently protected me, his broad right hand hooking around my shoulder, like a lovestruck
couple . His left hand was in his pocket, maintaining a facade of aloofness.

Little did I know, this was all a facade, concealing his wicked heart.

Holding me tightly was simply to prevent me from having any chance to escape, even though I wouldn't resist anyway. His left hand...
In my pocket lay the butterfly's personal remote control. The vibration frequency constantly changed according to my master's mood,
watching my shameful and bewildered expression.

Low vibration, off, medium vibration, low vibration, off, high vibration, low vibration, medium

vibration, off…

a non-stop, incomprehensible rhythm. It played me in a state of limbo, each time I was about to reach climax, the rapid shifts
would interrupt my lustful thoughts, halting my escalating immersion. It felt like I was trapped in a glass bottle,
staring at the hole at the top, wanting to escape, but stuck, unable to move forward or backward.

"Oh… haa… oh…" I had no desire to linger in the surrounding shops. Compared to my master's enthusiastic
browsing, our roles were completely opposite. My entire focus was on the two holes stuffed with toys. "...

Mmm...Oh...Mmm..."

I didn't even have the strength to lick the saliva sticking to the corners of my mouth. I let the saliva flow down my chin, my eyes glazed over. I
was immersed in this time of being disciplined, as if hypnotized, unwilling to wake up.

Finally, led by my master, I arrived at a huge map wall in the center of the underground street's plaza.

My eyes were glazed over, my body burning with desire, and my sensitivity reached a peak. My mind was filled with the desire
for orgasm, orgasm, orgasm. Even when I tried to speak, the sounds that came out were just moans.

"Master...Oh...Man..." I called his name with tears in my eyes.

He released his support from my shoulders and walked behind me. My master's right hand pointed to a corner of the map, and his left hand
reached out of his pocket, resting on my lower abdomen, enveloping me in his chest.

I had no idea what he wanted to do.

"Xinnu, just follow Exit 4, and we'll arrive at our lunch spot."
After announcing the answer, the master's tone shifted: "You've been holding back for a long time, haven't you? You want a reward, don't you...?"

He deliberately kept me in suspense, gently breathing into my ear. The warm, minty breath entered my ear, and
my body involuntarily trembled.

"...Then, let's climax here!"

What!? I wasn't prepared at all...

Then, I felt the master's left hand grasping something hard in my lower abdomen, fiddling with it. I never
expected that the "pleasure" reward I had been so eagerly anticipating would arrive at this moment, catching me completely off guard.

Weak, medium, strong, up to the highest speed.

Buzzing buzzing buzzing buzzing buzzing buzzing...

In an instant, time seemed to stand still, and the accumulated pleasure of every cell in my body, unreservedly, converged all over
my cunt and anus, even my clitoris, instantly ignited and exploded.

Oh my god…

Yes, it seems so, right, I'm in the plaza of the underground city, in front of a giant map, surrounded by crowds
, in my master's arms. My legs are half-open, my body trembling, leaning against my
master first ever, deeply imprinted on my soul, an indescribable—

orgasm!

I… lost…

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