【Stories of disciplining my wife in mainland China】(18)

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(18) Another Chapter of Spring Dream Chronicles

Because it was a spring dream, most of the memory of the dream disappeared or vanished after waking up, and the content was not

very reasonable . The only constant was that the main characters were always me, my wife, and a group of men whose faces I could not see clearly.

Dream Scene 1:

On a summer afternoon, in a standard factory building in a self-run economic development zone in a certain town, the afternoon sun weakly

shone through the iron windows onto a corridor about ten meters long. The slightly old factory interior did not become

brighter because of the light. On the contrary, the power of the residual heat of the sun made people and the scenery at this moment drowsy, like a faded

photograph, yellowed and old, which would be blown away by the wind.

I stood in the middle of the aisle, leaning against the wall, my gaze piercing through the small storeroom in front of me. Inside, there was only a

rickety four-legged table and two wooden chairs. One of the two warehouse workers was slumped over the table,

scribbling aimlessly on a piece of paper, while the other stared blankly at the messy arrangement of the storeroom and the scattered

packaging trash, making no attempt to tidy up.

A lifeless landscape, lifeless personnel, an uncompetitive rural industry. My gaze drifted further,

looking out the small window of the storeroom. The view outside wasn't much better; if it weren't for the wall in

the middle, it would be impossible to tell which side was inside and which was outside. Occasionally, the clattering

of pedals or the dust kicked up by speeding motorcycles reminded me that this small village was still

functioning.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my wife carrying a washbasin out of the bathroom at the end of the corridor. I guessed she'd

run out of the bathroom to cool off because it was so hot. She was only wearing a white t-shirt and pink athletic shorts,

with . 'I guess this is a gentle breeze?' I thought.

Just as my wife reached me, the people in the room also looked in my direction, and

the three of us—my wife, the migrant worker, and I—formed a perfect line. As if it were pre-arranged, I quickly stripped my wife of all her clothes,

picked up a supermarket plastic bag that had been blown by the wind from the floor, and put it over her head. The plastic bag even had

the words "Saving customers' needs is our mission" printed on it!

I pushed my wife into the storeroom, and the corridor was left with only scattered toiletries and water stains

left by , silently recounting what had happened a few minutes earlier:

the two men in the room had swiftly stripped off all their clothes and pressed my wife face down on the table. The young

man was fair-skinned and so thin that you could see every bone in his skin. The acne scars on his face indicated his age;

he was probably only fifteen or sixteen years old! He impatiently parted his wife's fair legs, spread

her plump buttocks to expose her vulva, and with a "whoosh," inserted his penis. About ten minutes later

, the young man ejaculated, injecting a large amount of white fluid into his wife's vagina.

The dark-skinned, burly middle-aged migrant worker was the complete opposite of the young man's physique. His robust frame, dark skin

, and weathered face gave him an honest and silent air; I guessed he was probably a farmer who had lost his land,

forced by poverty to come to the village to do odd jobs. He threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, walked to the table,

picked up , and made her lie face down on the wooden table. His wife's buttocks were sticking up high, her vulva and anus completely exposed, a feast for the eyes.

He took a steel ruler from the drawer and began to slap his wife's buttocks repeatedly. With a "smack,"

a red welt immediately appeared on her snow-white skin. As he slapped her, he muttered, "You

slut, I work hard outside, and you cheat on me at home. Let's see how I deal with you." He

didn't stop until her entire buttocks were bright red from the slaps, and he forced the semen that the young man had just ejaculated into her vagina out of her vagina. The white

liquid slowly flowed out of her vulva, dripping down onto the table in thin streams.

The wife was turned over and made to sit on the wooden table. The migrant worker lifted her legs high and spread them open, then thrust his penis, as hard as the yellow

earth, into her hard. Each thrust forced her pink labia into her vagina,

and when he pulled out, he turned them back out. The vaginal fluid and the young man's semen mixed and foamed into a thick, white, sticky liquid, and

new vaginal fluid kept flowing out of her vagina.

The migrant worker kissed his wife's cheeks and murmured from time to time, "Oh...so good...I love you...

wife...I...I...don't go..." His wife's long, messy hair was scattered on her face, and her large, soft

breasts bounced and swayed up and down with the intense rhythm of the thrusting.

An old man and a young man were enjoying their wives with great enthusiasm. The young man used his wife purely as a tool for sexual gratification, having sex

with her genitals twice and having her ejaculate in his mouth once. He even added a footjob, which was quite modern.

The migrant worker, on the other hand, saw his wife as a substitute for the wife of the man who cheated on him back home. He vented his mental stress on his wife

and physically abused her. He violently raped her,

making sure to penetrate her core with every thrust. Every stroke had to make a "slap slap" sound from the physical contact.

His rough hands kneaded her breasts until they were red and swollen, as if he hated her and wanted to squeeze them to burst out

milk.

As the sun was about to disappear below the distant horizon, the heat gradually dissipated, replaced by gusts of mountain wind.

At 5:15, the factory was deserted, except for a woman's body on a wooden table and a pair of legs limply hanging down…

Dream Scene Two:

A view of a residential complex, the sweltering transition from spring to summer. The property management had stopped the air conditioning,

making the air inside the rooms stifling. Everyone had their doors open to allow air circulation, and faint

air molecules drifted through the fine mesh screens into the rooms. 'Maybe it will have some effect!' I thought.

At this moment, I stood outside the screen door, watching the naked man and woman lying on the bed inside. It looked interesting;

the woman seemed to be begging the man beside her to have sex with her, but the man remained unmoved, refusing her sexual desires.

The two began to speak in hushed tones, ending only when the woman nodded.

The environment seemed to suddenly become quiet; even the sound of the air moving could be heard. Her long hair flowing over her shoulders, she

got out of bed and put on only a pair of extremely high white heels. Her gait became

unnatural ; the heels were so high that her knees involuntarily bent to prevent her from falling. The woman

carefully pushed open the screen door and stepped out. Our eyes met instantly, and she immediately stiffened, quickly lowering her head. After

a long pause, she finally uttered, "Husband." Hmm, I could hear the dryness in my wife's throat.

Heavy breathing came from inside the door; I heard it, and so did my wife. As if given a command,

my wife slowly squatted down, changing her position from standing to a dog-like prone position, sprawling naked in the hallway.

Her long arms were wrapped around her back, pushing her buttocks outwards, her beautiful anus exposed in the hallway. She contracted and relaxed her anus repeatedly

… I think my wife had been given the shameful command by a man to expose her asshole in the hallway

.

Time flew by, and sometimes I seemed to hear the sound of someone climbing the stairs, growing

louder and louder as they approached. I could tell from my wife's back that she was also very nervous; her muscles looked tense, her anus

stopped opening and clenched tightly, her body began to shrink involuntarily. If there were a hole in the ground, I

guarantee she would have crawled into it immediately.

The man coughed, and my wife sprang up from the ground with a sigh of relief and hid back in the room. As she passed me,

she lowered her head and avoided eye contact.

Back in the room, my wife eagerly began licking the man's penis to claim her reward. "It's not particularly big!"

I asked myself. Seeing my wife greedily sucking on the stranger's penis, a warm current immediately flowed through my lower

abdomen . The physiological reaction came so naturally and directly,

before the jealousy even arose.

After strategically having his wife serve him for a short time, the man gave her a new instruction. This time, she had to

squat the ground with her legs wide open, her hands spreading her labia majora to expose her entire vulva. He was systematically and gradually training

his wife to get used to outdoor exposure; it seemed she was heading towards an unknown future.

This training session was quite long; several times, even though footsteps reached the top of the stairs, the neighbor

didn't turn in but instead went back downstairs. The story of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" teaches us that people's courage grows

. Without the master's command, the "bitch" in front of a certain apartment building upgraded her training on her own,

inserting two fingers from each hand to spread her vulva wider. I could tell at a glance that her clitoris was protruding

and erect, her vagina was darkened in color due to engorgement, and her labia minora were thickened and fleshy red. She was

incredibly lewd.

Another low cough signaled the end of the training, bringing the illusion back to reality. This time, my wife's steps were much lighter as she went back to

her room . She even forgot to look at me before passing by, her mind completely

elsewhere. The man carefully examined her body: beautiful breasts, a slender figure, long, beautiful legs. Her breasts were large,

round, firm, and elastic, with pale pink areolas and small nipples slightly larger than red beans—truly a

sight that would make any man drool. Her naked body was laid bare before the man.

His wife knelt on the bed, her buttocks raised, allowing the man to stand behind and penetrate her. The man

inserted his wife's body, thrusting harder and harder, the union of their genitals continuing unabated, the love juices at their point of contact

wetting their pubic hair. In the dim moonlight, the man fought valiantly, each thrust causing his wife's labia

to fold open. I watched my wife having sex with another man, a bittersweet feeling mingled with the sourness in my heart.

As they continued, the man changed to a more exciting method. He withdrew his penis, then

stood up from behind, holding her legs and bending her knees, like helping a child urinate. His wife wrapped her arms around his neck, her vagina wide open. He

lifted her buttocks and inserted his penis into her vagina, then began thrusting in and out, constantly

changing positions and taking turns fucking her. His technique was unexpectedly skillful, bringing his wife wave after wave of pleasure,

her mind a complete blur, devoid of any sense of shame. She could only sway her body in response to the man's thrusts and moan, her juices flowing

freely down her thighs, soaking them. Finally, her vagina was filled with the man's semen.

Before going to the bathroom, the man tossed a bag to his wife. After emerging from the bathroom, he dressed in sportswear,

running shoes, and a hat, and took a walk with his humanoid dog, which wore a collar and leash.

I watched my wife, with a dog tail-shaped ornament inserted into her anus, slowly crawl forward on the floor. I turned to leave, but

then noticed a piece of paper under the dim lamplight. It read: "I, Zhang X-li, a married woman, voluntarily

serve as my master Yang X-zhan's human-shaped dog, doing everything in my power to satisfy his needs… Signed by: Zhang X-li

."

(To be continued)

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