I only regret that it was all in vain back then.

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

Today, I met my master.

Since that person left, I've reverted to my old habits, frequently logging onto BDSM websites, looking at those blood-pumping pictures and videos, chatting aimlessly with acquaintances and strangers in chat rooms, forever wavering between my inner desires and reason. Finally, I decided to find a real master.

Luckily (or unlucky?), without much trouble, my master appeared. Gritting my teeth, I decided to meet him.

Naturally, I made quite a few preparations beforehand. In our QQ chat, my master remained polite and courteous, not in a hurry to meet and train me, only discussing our respective thoughts on BDSM. Trust slowly grew, as if I were about to meet an old friend. We agreed to meet in a public place, so if I felt uncomfortable, I could turn around and leave immediately. I got a new SIM card, took my ID out of my wallet, changed into clothes and shoes without any brand names, and set off.

My master appeared. I'm not a very imaginative person, and before meeting him, I hadn't imagined what my master would look like. I also knew I shouldn't have too high expectations of online acquaintances. But my master exceeded my expectations. He looked to be in his early thirties, tall and strong, with handsome features, and most importantly, a calm and trustworthy demeanor.

He was carrying a black bag... could it be...? When we decided to meet, he said he wouldn't force me; I could choose not to come out and leave quietly. But if I was determined to "train" him, he would bring the necessary tools. Thinking about this, I couldn't help but blush.

"Hello, shall we go?" my master asked, his voice as calm as his personality.

"...Um, sure." I hesitated for a moment, clearly understanding his implication. Since I was here, why not give it a try? I lowered my head, feeling him take my hand, and involuntarily followed him.

It seemed my master was quite familiar with this area; we hadn't walked far before entering a hotel. I secretly glanced at it; it looked pretty good, with a four-star sign. It seems that according to online acquaintances, the higher the star rating, the safer the hotel, right? The hardware and soundproofing will be better... Hmm? What am I thinking?!

Entering the guest room, the host closed the door, and the atmosphere in the sealed space suddenly became heavy. I stood frozen at the doorway, unsure what to do.

The host walked to the sofa in the living room and sat down (the host had ordered a suite, quite spacious), glanced at me, and said, "Come here." His voice was cold, completely different from before.

I quickly went over; shouldn't I kneel down at this point? Yes, kneeling was the right thing to do.

"Hmm? Quite clever." I secretly glanced at the host, a hint of a smile on his face, but why was he still so cold?

"Go get that bag. I didn't tell you to stand up, crawl over and get it!"

Uh... it seems the training has begun. A faint excitement rose within me. I crawled over, retrieved the bag, and handed it to the host.

"Take it off."

This word, usually carrying erotic connotations, sounded completely different coming from the host's mouth, devoid of any desire, just a straightforward command. I slowly undressed—shoes, socks, shirt, jeans. Why was the weather so warm? Why couldn't I wear more layers? After taking off two layers, I was left only in my underwear. I looked up at my master, questioningly. His gaze remained indifferent, as if saying, "Continue." I gritted my teeth, unhooked my bra, and then took off my panties.

A fleeting look of admiration crossed my master's eyes, before returning to boundless indifference. He opened the bag and began to show me the tools he had prepared. A nine-tailed whip, a hand slap, a vibrating egg, rope, leather handcuffs, leather leg irons, a blindfold, nipple clamps, several gags, several vibrators, anal plugs…anal plugs?! Good heavens, this seems a bit too much… My body stiffened.

My master arranged these tools on the coffee table, glancing at me mockingly with each item he picked up. Why did it feel like a game of cat and mouse to me? After taking them all out, my master paused slightly, seemingly considering which ones to use on me first.

“There are some other things that are inconvenient to bring out, we'll talk about them later (later?!). I remember when we were chatting, you said you longed for bondage, whipping, and spanking, so let's start with those.”

The master picked up a rope and began to wrap it around my body. Soon, I was bound in a turtle-shell style. Having frequented the bar in the compound for so many years, although I'd never even experienced online BDSM, my theoretical knowledge was quite extensive. The master's ability to create such a style in such a short time clearly showed his skill. The thin cotton rope made my skin bulge, especially my sensitive lower body, which felt extremely uncomfortable from the friction of the rough rope. Next came the handcuffs and leg irons.

“Go, into the bathroom,” the master commanded. Moving around made me realize the severity of the turtle-shell bondage even more; the slightest movement sent waves of numbness and tingling through me. The chains between the leg irons were short, making it difficult for me to move into the bathroom.

Standing in front of the large mirror, I could hardly believe it—was this really me? Red ropes crisscrossed my snow-white skin like a spiderweb, my hands bound behind my back, emphasizing my shapely figure. My master clearly saw the surprise in my eyes, whispering in my ear, "Do you feel beautiful? Don't forget, this is a gift from me. How should you express it?"

"Thank you, Master," I said sincerely.

"Good, there's an even bigger surprise to come." My master stroked my face, my lips, my breasts. The mirror reflected a tightly bound naked woman and a well-dressed gentleman, the atmosphere ambiguous.

My master carried me into the bedroom, placed me on the bed, and gently blindfolded and gagged me. Instantly, the world went dark. The unknown filled me with fear and curiosity, and my body trembled. "Don't be afraid, trust your master," I told myself. At that moment, my master whispered the same words in my ear.

With my sight gone, all my senses became abnormally sensitive. Despite the thick carpet, I could still hear my master walking around the room, and even feel the slightest movement of the air.

My master's hands landed on my chest, kneading and occasionally attacking the most sensitive tips. I felt my face gradually heat up, my thirsty skin constantly craving more caresses, yet even more caresses seemed unable to satisfy me. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my left breast, encountering trauma at the very moment I most craved gentle caresses. Then, the same pain returned to my right breast. Oh, I know, it's those nipple clamps, such delicate and lovely things causing such pain. But soon, perhaps due to numbness, the pain gradually subsided and became bearable. It turns out that time can heal all pain, whether physical or spiritual, just like that person, gradually fading into the distance, and haven't I gone through the same thing?

While I was lost in thought, the pain in my nipples suddenly doubled. Ah, it was my master gently fiddling with them, how cruel! It hurt even more than when they were clamped, making me involuntarily let out a soft groan from behind the gag.

"Does it hurt a little? How about this?" The tone was still teasing, but a buzzing sound came from the master's direction. Soon, something touched my lower body; at first, it was tingling and numb, but gradually, the feeling turned into pleasure, as if an electric current radiated from that source of pleasure throughout my body. Gradually, even the pain from the master's occasional flicking of my nipples became a stimulus, increasing the speed of my descent. Ah, no, please let me go! I want to escape, but bound tightly and held by the master's strong arms, I had nowhere to run, only to fall, fall and fall.

Just when I thought I was about to reach the bottom, the vibration stopped. Why, why! Why now! I made a muffled sound from my throat, expressing my dissatisfaction.

"Not now," the master said coldly. "When is decided by me, not you. Only I can control when you are happy and when you are in pain. Now, it's time for pain."

But it was too late then .
The second time, the master wielded his mighty hand, his small test of skill, his pert buttocks causing the obedient slave great suffering .
[Date: 2006-05-10] Source: Author: [Font: Large Medium Small]

Hello everyone, I'm back again :p I've been restless all day, wanting to check the response to my posts on the forum, yet also wanting to put down my work and continue writing. When I finally came online, I was a little disappointed. Quite a few people read it, but very few replied. I want to thank those who did reply; you gave me motivation! (Actually, it's just my inner chatterbox who couldn't resist popping in, haha!) (Li Family Courtyard)

Seeing Aiyu's post made me realize this problem: should I post about emotions or real experiences? Since it mainly focuses on the psychology and feelings of a submissive, emotions seem more appropriate… Please, moderator, decide! Thank you~

This part was written today [em07]

------------------------------------------------------I am a separator line---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Two: The Master Tests His Skills with a Giant Hand; The Obedient Slave Suffers from a Huge

Blindfold Removed, the Gag Removed, and Light Returned to My Eyes. I then realized my earlier indulgence and felt ashamed.

Before I could finish feeling ashamed, the master deftly positioned me on his lap. I've always been interested in spanking, and I'm naturally very familiar with this classic position. However, I was pampered at home growing up and never got spanked. Are most people who enjoy sadomasochism those who haven't experienced hardship? This topic is worth studying…

“…I'm asking you, tell me yourself, how much?” Huh? I had actually been lost in thought and missed my master's question.

Damn it! “Let me think… 30, no, 20, okay?”

“Okay, then 30!”

“Ah, I said 2… ah!”

My master completely ignored my protest, and his huge hand slammed down. Ouch, this was no small matter. The most embarrassing thing was that my hands were locked behind my back, and all my weight was pressing on my soft stomach. I had to support my legs to balance the weight, so my buttocks naturally became the easiest target. Each slap brought a burning pain, gradually spreading from slow to fast. I initially had a bit of a strong sense of self-sacrifice and wanted to grit my teeth and endure it without uttering a sound, but the pain seemed endless, only intensifying until it became unbearable. I couldn't help but cry out.

My master didn't stop my screams, but focused solely on slapping me, sometimes left, sometimes right, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, choosing locations at will, leaving palm prints on every inch of my skin.

After what felt like an eternity, the punishment finally ended. Luckily, the room was quite soundproof, otherwise I probably wouldn't have had the face to leave.

"So, how was your first spanking experience?" My master's voice came from behind me.

"It hurts... it burns," I said, feeling wronged.

"That's because I wanted you to feel pain. Looks like you haven't had enough. What's next? A whip or a slap?"

Was he asking me? It didn't seem so; I'd better keep quiet.

"Alright, then let's do hand slaps. You tell me how many?"

"Uh…20…"

"Is 20 enough? How about 40?"

"…………" Oh God, I get it. Asking for less won't get me approved anyway.

"But I want you to know beforehand that the hand slaps are far more intense than the palms, and I'll be gagling you because I prefer the sound of suppressed screams. So, if you find it unbearable, you can untie this; it's our safe word." The master said, tying the gag strap behind my head again, and then shoving something soft into my hand. Uh, it seems…like…like a latex penis. I had no choice but to hold it tightly, my heart filled with fear of the torture to come, and perhaps a little bit of anticipation. Was it really that terrible? *

Thud*, the first slap landed on my buttocks without warning. Ouch! It hurt! It felt like my skin was bleeding. I couldn't help but reach for my buttocks with my handcuffed hands.

The second blow was delayed. I turned my head slightly, but couldn't see my master's expression. I only heard him coldly say, "Want to cover it up? Will you take it off yourself or should I do it for you?"

I hesitated for a moment, then obediently moved my hands away. "Very good, 10 more strokes." Uh...

two! This blow was much heavier than the first, meaning my master was a little angry. This time, naturally, I dared not cover myself with my hands again, and had to suppress the urge to struggle, enduring the blow.

Obviously, my master was very satisfied with this. The next few blows were similar to the first one, and although they hurt, they were still within a tolerable range. I groaned softly, afraid of giving my master more reason to punish me.

...Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, I felt like I couldn't hold on any longer. My legs, which were on the ground, were trembling, and my body couldn't help but struggle.

...Nineteen, twenty, just as I was gritting my teeth—no, biting the gag and waiting for more blows to fall—my master stopped. I couldn't believe it. Was it over? I didn't know whether to feel relieved or regretful. My master seemed to pick something up, and suddenly, something was inserted into my body, vibrating incessantly, causing the still-bound tortoise shell-like bindings to produce strange sensations.

Twenty-one, the hand slapped down mercilessly, but then came the master's caresses, his large, slightly cool hands stroking my burning skin, slightly easing the pain. But as I craved more, I was met with the next slap. Between anticipation and endurance, I finally counted to thirty.

The next slap was delayed; my master merely gently caressed my skin. Was he plotting something again?! The pain lessened slightly, and the stimulation in my lower body gradually became clearer. After the overwhelming pain, my senses suddenly sharpened; even my breathing affected the ropes binding my body, producing an unparalleled pleasure. My breathing became rapid, afraid of accidentally letting out a groan.

My master's hand stopped, and I thought I heard a soft sigh, "Ready." Before I could understand, a new round began. This time, there was no time for me to catch my breath between each slap; the pain accumulated exponentially, no, exponentially. I no longer cared about restraint and struggled with all my might. If it weren't for the gag, I'm sure my screams would have attracted the police. In my struggle, the ropes binding my lower body no longer brought pleasure, but cruel torture to my most delicate and fragile flower.

Fortunately, this torment didn't last long. My master's hand began to caress my buttocks again, while the other reached to my chest, caressing my breasts, occasionally casually touching my nipples. Combined with the vibrations in my lower body, it made me feel itchy. Just as I craved more, my master's hand withdrew. Alas, it seems my torment wasn't over yet.

"For your first punishment, your performance was not bad, but that's also because I only used light to moderate force. Now there are five more slaps; I will use more force. If you can't take it, you can use the safe word. Okay, I'm going to begin." My master's voice was calm, but why did I feel a chill?

*Smack!* I couldn't hold back and screamed. It turns out that this thing, no more than 30 centimeters long and less than half a centimeter thick, could cause such pain. It seems the owner had held back in the previous blows. Should I let go and stop this torment? In that sudden downpour, I didn't have time to think; I only knew to hold onto the thing tightly. But now, I have a choice: should I let go?

*Smack!* Another smack. I almost gave up, but I didn't let go. I can do it, I told myself. Just a few more, and if I can't take it anymore, I'll use this magic weapon. Time and time again, I finally got through it, I persevered. It

was finally over, although the pain hadn't lessened, at least I knew it wouldn't increase.

My master put me down from his lap, making me stand up straight, his movements careful, as if I were a fragile object. He gazed at me for a moment, then raised his hand and wiped away the tears on my face. Tears? I actually cried? How embarrassing, I should be like a brave heroine, not a crybaby.

"Very good, you will be a very good masochist. Now, this is your well-deserved reward." My master's voice held a gentleness he hadn't shown before. He lowered his head, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, and then down to my chest. His soft lips sucked, sometimes gently nibbling, sometimes teasing with the tip of his tongue. The tenderness after the storm made me tremble slightly. Just now, when I lay on my master's lap, I could feel his hardness. Now, is it really about to begin?

But then, it was all in vain.
Chapter Three: The Nine-Tailed Whip Dances, Inflicting Torture; Three Ropes Tightly Bind the Beauty
[Date: 2006-05-10] Source: Author: [Font: Large Medium Small]

I think I must be crazy, staying up all night, not working, writing this stuff. The biggest problem is… there's no guarantee anyone will read it. Oh well, once this is finished, I must get back to work!!

--------------------------------------------------- Still a dividing line --------------------------------------------------------------- (Li Family Courtyard)

Chapter Three: The Nine-Tailed Whip Dances, Inflicting Torture; Three Ropes Tightly Bind the Beauty Just

as my body went limp and I was about to collapse, my master stopped and raised his head. In his eyes, I saw desire, his and mine. Why not continue? I was ready, even eagerly anticipating it.

My master continued to tease my nipples, his other hand gently caressing my lips, whispering in my ear, "Don't rush, don't be greedy for a little pleasure, you deserve more." As he spoke, the gentle caress turned into a clamping grip on my cheek, and the itching on my chest transformed into the pain of being tightly pinched. My body trembled again, this time from pain. Was this the so-called reward? My master's logic was anything but simple. The

tortoise-shell bindings were finally removed, but they left purplish marks. How long had it been since we entered the room? An hour? Two hours? Later I realized that time had passed much faster than I had imagined.

Next was the thing beneath me, covered in my bodily fluids when it was removed. My master looked at me with a teasing gaze as he removed it, seemingly unable to hold it properly, letting it slip back in several times. I blushed, glaring at him with what I thought was anger. So, he feigned innocence, letting it in and out several times before finally removing it from my body.

Then, he began to study the gag. Why hadn't I drooled a single drop after lying face down for so long? Haha, luckily I'm clever! As someone with a slight case of mysophobia, how could I do something so unrefined as drooling? That would be disgusting!! My secret was to push the gag out as far as possible, then I could basically swallow my saliva as usual, and then quickly put the gag back in… Of course, this secret was later discovered by my master, which naturally brought me severe punishment—a punishment I'd rather forget! But that's another story. At the time, my master was fooled by me. Since I had lost my great function of making me drool, the gag was temporarily abandoned.

He replaced the cotton rope with hemp rope. This time, my master used a high hand bondage (I haven't reviewed this in a long time, so please point out any mistakes, thank you). My arms were raised to their highest point, my shoulders ached terribly, but my chest became even more erect. Because my desire had nowhere to go, my nipples remained erect, growing increasingly rosy. Since the target was so obvious, the nipple clamps reappeared. No problem, I'd get used to it after a while.

"Go, lie down by the bed." With my master's help, I finally got into the position he wanted. Oh my god, the focus was once again on my poor buttocks! Could it be?! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my master pick up the nine-tailed whip. If I'm not mistaken, let me mourn for my buttocks for three minutes.

"Since you said you wanted to try bonding, spanking, and whipping, let's experience them all together. Of all the whips, the Nine-Tailed Whip is probably the lightest. The others are quite long and inconvenient to carry, so we'll try them later (!! I did try them all later, and I'll write about my experience then). Same as always, how many times do you want?"

"..." I hardened my heart: "30."

"Okay, 30 it is. But your butt has already suffered a lot today, and further beatings might injure it, so I'll let you off the hook. 10 on the butt. Also, 10 on the breasts and 10 on the genitals. The safe word is still the same." The master resumed his cold tone, with an air of absolute authority. As a lamb to the slaughter, how could I dare to say no?

Walking behind me, the master seemed to test the waters with a few swings in the air. My muscles tensed, waiting for the whip to fall.

Snap! The expected pain added another wound to my already tormented butt. I shouldn't struggle anymore. The nipple clamps touching the sheets were excruciatingly painful, but it was okay, it was only ten lashes, I wouldn't die. Without realizing it, I felt like I had suddenly grown up.

Silently counting to ten, I breathed a sigh of relief. Behind me, my master let out a soft "Eh." I waited, but there was no further response

. After a while, "Stand up," my master's voice sounded normal. I obediently stood on the ground, waiting for the next ten lashes.

What I hadn't expected was that the ten lashes on my breasts included the nipple clamps. Even without the gag, I still didn't dare to scream, perhaps wanting to preserve my pride. With each lash, I could only hiss and gasp for air; all I could do now was clench my teeth.

My master seemed to be deliberately trying to knock the clamps off during these ten lashes, each one aimed at my nipples. I desperately wanted to bend over and escape this ordeal, even for just a second. But I dared not, afraid of suffering even harsher punishment.

Ten more lashes. It was May, the room was air-conditioned, and I was completely naked, yet beads of sweat glistened on my skin.

"Lie down on the bed, get into position." Get into position, oh, it was the poor thing's turn… I plopped down on the bed, but then jerked back up due to the excruciating pain in my buttocks. Glared at by my master, I carefully lay down, spread my legs, and groaned, "This is awful!"

My master, however, didn't rush to act, first playing with my breasts. His palm rubbed my nipples, which were still incredibly sensitive from the recent injury, causing both pain and itchiness; the two rosy points quickly hardened again. Then, my master reached down; they were already wet. Unexpectedly, he lightly patted them twice, eliciting a gasp from me.

My master straightened up and began to wield the whip. This time, besides pain, there was something else. Dozens of leather strips covered all the sensitive areas, the whip's tip often reaching unexpected spots. My lower abdomen grew increasingly hot, yet I had nowhere to vent it, only craving more whippings, which I considered a form of caress.

This time, the ten lashes seemed to end in the blink of an eye, and I grumbled in dissatisfaction. Looking up, I noticed my master's genitals were erect. Heh, my master seemed to have discovered my secret, and somewhat embarrassed, he casually gave me another lash: "What are you looking at? Haven't you had enough?" I quickly turned my head away, sticking out my tongue.

The whipping ended, but instead of untying me, my master threaded another rope through the mattress and tied my legs apart. This was a very practical trick, since not every bed has a frame to use. Next, my master quickly stripped off his clothes. Wow, not bad physique, especially his wide-open... well, it seems my master had already warned me not to look around if I didn't want to be whipped! Before I could even turn my head, my master pulled my hair up and shoved his penis into my mouth. I wasn't even paying attention and ended up doing a deep throat, almost choking. Even so, tears welled up instantly. I didn't dare to be negligent and immediately used all my skills to serve him diligently. My master was very clean, with no odor whatsoever, only a faint scent of shower gel, which I could tell was Dettol, a brand I also liked.

Actually, before meeting him, I had seriously considered this question, but I was too embarrassed to say it. Was I supposed to say to my master, "Dear master, because I'm a bit of a germaphobe, please wash your penis beforehand?" Thankfully, a weight was finally lifted from my shoulders.

I was diligently licking when my master pulled away and made me lie down again. He examined three or four vibrators for a while, finally choosing one of medium thickness, which relieved me. The vibrator went in easily, but I didn't realize how powerful it was until I turned it on. Deep inside, I couldn't tell which part of it was rotating, and I couldn't tell if it was uncomfortable or pleasurable. The tip outside was touching my clitoris, making me want to twist and wriggle to escape. But then my master took out a rope and tied me around the waist to the mattress. This time, even that little bit of movement was gone, and I could only helplessly endure the vibrations and rotations below.

My master wasn't idle either. He moved the vibrator all over my body while sucking and licking my breasts. But whenever it got to the crucial moment, he would either remove the vibrator or bite my nipples hard. I couldn't help but moan, my face burning. All the pain was forgotten, and I almost blurted out "Give it to me."

Finally, finally, the master showed leniency, allowing the pleasure to build up smoothly, rising higher and higher, until it finally erupted. "Ah~!" I trembled, tensed, and twisted, drowning in an unprecedented orgasm.

However, after the unprecedented orgasm came unprecedented pain. The vibrator was not removed, continuing to vibrate and rotate. My clitoris, incredibly sensitive after the orgasm, could not withstand such violent shaking. I struggled frantically, but was held firmly on the bed, my legs unable to move, left to endure the onslaught. Each vibration brought endless spasms, and I screamed "No!", tears streaming down my face.

But at that moment, it was all in vain.
Chapter Four: The Dust Settles on the Master and Slave, Like a Unpolished Jade Revealing Its Heart's Voice
[Date: 2006-05-10] Source: Author: [Font: Large Medium Small]

(Li Family Courtyard)
Why, why ahh ... 555~~

I've been thinking about going back to the compound to check on things these past few days. I'm so glad to see so many people reading and replying. Thank you, thank you! So I wrote another section, which includes some H-scenes :p I'm not really good at this… The second half is about my interactions with my master after our first training session. For those looking for explicit scenes, it might be a bit boring, but for submissives who genuinely want to find a dominant in real life, I think communication is very important. Although everything revolves around the master, submissives also have their own rights and desires; otherwise, this game would be meaningless, and they might as well become real slaves.

Looking back at the previous posts, several submissives said it read like a novel. At first, I was a little indignant, but later I got over it. Aren't they just praising me? If I were reading this post, I would also think, "Since S is so good, so perfect, why break up?" "...From chatting to meeting you today, I have strong feelings for you. Although it was only our first mediation, I've already seen potential in you, like a rough gem. The more it's polished, the more surprising and exciting it becomes, attracting me to explore further, to know what treasures are hidden within, even though the polishing process will be extremely painful." These were the words my master said to me then, and what moved me. But we were both wrong. Sadomasochism has no end. We never know when to stop, always wanting more, until only a thin layer remains. In the end, I was a qualified M, every word and action perfectly conforming to the model female slave manual. But then my master realized that what he liked wasn't this polished gem, but the original rough gem. So he desperately tried to unearth my original pride and stubbornness. But we can never go back... Like Xiao Guo in "My Own Swordsman," she became more and more sensible and understanding, saying, "The world is so beautiful, yet I'm so irritable, no good, no good." But in the end, we started to miss the domineering young lady from before... Oh no, I'm getting sentimental again. Is the early morning when people are most vulnerable?

I'm not saying anything more, everyone check out the forum :d

============================================= I am the older brother's double-line divider ============================================

Chapter Four: The Dust Settles on Master and Slave; A Jade Unearth Reveals Its Heart's Voice.

Climax, pain, another climax, another pain, I don't know how many times I went through this cycle before I regained consciousness. My lower body was somewhat numb, because the ropes left deep marks on my body from the struggle. I was panting, watching my master sit on the sofa watching the TV on silent. The light from the screen flickered on his face, obscuring his expression.

"Ugh..." I shifted slightly, hoping to get his attention.

"The performance was intense, I was almost considering stuffing your underwear in your mouth. Luckily, the soundproofing here is pretty good." My master walked over, looking down at me.

"I..." I started to speak, but then realized my throat was dry. Forget it, I'd better keep quiet.

My master started untying the ropes, then ordered me not to move, before going into the bathroom. I was feeling a little uneasy when my master returned and told me to turn over. Confused, I did as he said.

Suddenly, I felt a cold sensation on my buttocks. "Ah!" I couldn't help but gasp.

"Don't move, apply some ointment. Go back and use some antiseptic shower gel; there are a few broken skins."

"Uh..." I secretly turned my head. Sure enough, my once snow-white skin was now red and swollen, with a few faint, darker lines. It didn't hurt too much. How ruthless!

The cold towel quickly warmed up, and the master tossed it aside, scrutinizing my buttocks. Oh no! Had I aroused his interest again? I quickly tried to make conversation: "Master, do you... need...?" I glanced furtively at his crotch as I spoke; thankfully, it was only half-erect, quite cute.

"Ahem, we made some kind of agreement before we met, but it seems someone has forgotten. Let me think if I should help her remember." The master turned to examine the pile of tools on the coffee table.

"Uh..." Right, when we discussed the meeting, I repeatedly confirmed that there wouldn't be any actual sexual intercourse, and now I've completely forgotten! How embarrassing!

"However..." The master finally turned his head back, seemingly without any intention of using any torture devices: "It's been almost half a day since we met, and this seems to be the first time you've called me 'Master.' Have you decided to accept me as your master? I hope you'll think it through before you answer."

I paused for a moment, realizing I was right. But in my mind, kneeling naked before my master meant I had accepted him as my dominant. In the days leading up to our meeting, I'd read countless stories of girls being tortured and killed while playing sadomasochistic games, and submissives lamenting online dominants who disregarded their feelings. It wasn't without fear. But now, all my unease had vanished. Although it was my first real experience, I could feel my master showing restraint and considering my feelings. Moreover, throughout this training, he had been pushing me to orgasm after orgasm, while he himself had suppressed his desires. I doubt many boyfriends or husbands could do that. I was truly lucky to have met such a dominant. Better to kill the innocent than let the guilty go free!

With that thought, I got out of bed, knelt before my master, my face flushed, but resolutely began to serve him. His penis rapidly swelled in my mouth, filling it completely. I tried hard to recall all the techniques of oral sex, my tongue lightly touching the round head, occasionally gently probing the opening at the front, teasing the tender mucous membrane inside. Slowly moving down the shaft, I pressed slightly on the protruding vas deferens (please correct me, everyone, I've always thought it was the vas deferens, is it?), all the way to the testicles. I took them in my mouth, one, two, gently sliding them, then turning back, circling the groove again and again.

My master seemed a little surprised at first, but quickly relaxed and began to enjoy my service. I heard his breathing quicken, and his mouth throb slightly. Suddenly, I wanted to be mischievous, so I lightly bit his glans, very lightly, almost just a brush of my teeth. My master groaned, his penis jerked, and he glared at me angrily: "Fine, you asked for it." Saying this, he grabbed my hair and started deep-throating me. This was terrible. I couldn't vomit, and I couldn't escape. Tears and snot streamed down my face, and the muscles in my throat kept contracting.

I don't know how many thrusts he did, but his moans grew louder, and his member grew even thicker. Suddenly, a rush of heat shot into my throat, and I choked, coughing until my whole body trembled. I didn't even have time to clean myself. By the time I remembered, he had already finished… This was terrible. I knelt trembling on the ground, but he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes were expressionless, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. After staring at me for a moment, he released me and said, "Go take a shower. That's enough for today. We should all go home."

What? It's over just like that? I felt a sense of loss and mustered my courage to ask him, "Master, is there something I did wrong? Please tell me, I will try harder…"

"No, I'm tired. That piercing, demonic sound was exhausting. Besides…" He smiled at me, "There's plenty of time."

Oh, plenty of time! These are the most beautiful words I've ever heard! I quickly said "Thank you, Master," and got up to take a shower.

Back home, my whole body ached, but I couldn't resist turning on my computer to see if Master was online. Sure enough, he was online, and I quickly sent a big smiley face: "Hello, Master!"

"Hmm, good girl. Does it still hurt?"

"A little, but it's okay!"

"I've been waiting for you. I think some things are better said online, because when we're face-to-face, I'm the dominant and you're the submissive; I say what you want, and you do what I say. But online, we're equals, and I want to hear your opinion so it can be more perfect, don't you think?"

Uh… the atmosphere seems a bit serious. I replied, "Yes, that's right."

"I asked you a question, and you still haven't answered."

A question? Oh, that question about recognizing a master, right? I became serious as well: "Master, I am honored to have a master like you. I hope to be your sub. I am willing to accept everything you impose on me, whether it be joy or pain, it is entirely up to you."

"Very good. But before we finalize things, I hope you understand that what I am about to impose on you will not be as simple as it is today, it may be far more brutal. I think you have already felt today's training, I am focused on you. Because neither of us knows if there will be a second time, I hope that a girl who loves BDSM will have at least one real experience in her life, and a beautiful one at that. So, today I have been controlling myself. But if we become master and slave in the future, it may be completely different. As long as I am willing, I will go to the extreme. Are you willing?" "

..." I hesitated for a moment, and the torture scenes I often saw in Insex and Spider-Man short films began to replay in my mind. Should I let go now, or step in without hesitation? The pain and pleasure I just experienced today, the intoxicating and involuntary feeling, and most importantly, the ability to wholeheartedly trust and rely on someone, how long has it been since I had this? Well then, let me take this gamble! "Master, I do!" These three words, usually used in marriage proposals, came out so resolutely to me. "However, I have a question for you..."

"Go ahead."

"Do you have other submissives?" This question had been lingering in my mind for a long time.

"Yes, I do. I used to, and I still do."

Oh... Although I had already guessed this answer, I still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. It makes sense, though. Such skillful bondage techniques, such measured control—how could a novice submissive possess that? Such a submissive shouldn't be someone I could monopolize.

"But from our chat to today's meeting, I've developed strong feelings for you. Although it's only our first session, I've already seen potential in you, like a rough gem. The more it's polished, the more surprising and exciting it becomes, attracting me to explore it further, to know what treasures are hidden within, even though the polishing process will be extremely painful."

These words strengthened my resolve. After today's training, I felt the same way. Every time, I didn't know if I could endure it. Countless times I wanted to use the safe word, and countless times I held back, forever struggling with myself. Is this the feeling I wanted? However, now, I finally have a master who can help me achieve this. I am an extremely curious person and also want to know my limits.

"Okay, you can think about it again. You have a week to think about it before we meet again. If you change your mind, you can tell me during this time. However, if that happens, I also hope that you can undergo another training. I will let you know what the ultimate is."

Uh... Although I know I won't change my mind, I am still very tempted. The ultimate?! Maybe I should experience what the ultimate is first, and then tell my master that I have always wanted to be his M... Forget it, I shouldn't joke with my life!

But at that time, it was already a regret.
Chapter 5: The Little Slave Girl Enters the House, the Spicy Master Reveals His Treasures
[Date: 2006-05-10] Source: Author: [Font: Large Medium Small]

Hello everyone! I'm back again :p I've been on a business trip recently and haven't had the chance to sit down and write quietly. I can only recall things in my mind. Fortunately, I can write these things down in the last few years of May Day. I originally planned to update after that long post, but I couldn't bump it up myself :( So I had to start a new post. Please don't be offended, moderator :p (Li Family Courtyard)

I saw some messages from friends in the courtyard. Some were looking for submissives, and some wanted to discuss SM with me. Since I rarely have time to chat on QQ now, I'll write down my experiences and insights about real SM each time.

Regarding finding a Dom: The method is similar to others – chatting, via QQ or a chat room, and then getting information out of each other :d. I trust my intuition, so the chat times aren't very long. If you're not very experienced or want to be more cautious, you can extend the time appropriately, to one or two months, or even half a year. Because my main purpose is to find a Dom, I'm not comfortable with phone or video BDSM (I tried, but I always burst out laughing… I sincerely apologize to those Doms), so I always met people in the same city, and we met in person after chatting for a little over a week. Before the Dom mentioned in the article, I met another enthusiast who enjoys bonding, including both the bondage and being bonded. He gets really into it as long as there's rope, and sometimes he'll even play some whipping with me. He was a really handsome guy; my classmates even saw him in public, and they all agreed he was good-looking. It's a shame we only stayed together for three or four months (mainly because he wanted to make me his girlfriend… and at that time I hadn't met a real Dom yet, so I was a little unwilling to give up. My thought was that if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't do SM with other people).

Because we often chatted for an entire night, our conversations were quite in-depth. I also like reading theoretical things, so I think I can easily tell if someone is a real Dom or just trying to get sex. I suggest other women use this method too; only by reading more theoretical things can you truly understand the meaning behind SM. I recommend Li Yinhe's *Sadomasochistic Subculture*, although it's mostly plagiarized, it's still a good choice for those of us who rarely encounter foreign theories.

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... The owner's home was a very typical bachelor pad, decorated only in black, white, and gray, with occasional touches of red that only accentuated his rugged and cool demeanor. The furniture style was somewhat like IKEA, but not as childish—oh, right, it must be Scandinavian! I was still curiously looking around, unaware that the owner had already started closing the windows and drawing the curtains. Instantly, the once brightly lit living room darkened, and coupled with the dim light shining from somewhere, it felt like a dungeon. The owner looked at me with a half-smile and said, "What, waiting for me to do it?" Huh? Oh! I hurriedly and clumsily took off my clothes, kneeling before the owner in my most obedient posture. Thankfully, the carpet beneath me was soft—was it wool...? The owner produced a red collar from somewhere, complete with a long chain. This time, I snapped out of my daze and quickly leaned closer. The master put the collar on me, examined it for a moment, and seemed fairly satisfied: "Come, let me show you around." "Okay!" I was just about to stand up when the master's voice turned stern again: "Did I tell you to get up?" Oh... so that's it... Before I could even realize it, I was already being whipped on the bottom. When did the master pull out a whip?! Unlike the nine-tailed whip from last time, this whip was very simple, with a thin handle and only a small flat tip. I think it was called a riding whip, heh heh. Apart from startling me, it didn't seem to hurt too much. (In fact, my initial feeling was wrong; later, this whip became what terrified me the most, and I suffered quite a bit from it.) And so, with the collar on and the master holding the chain, occasionally cracking the whip, we began to tour the house. According to the master, he occasionally came to stay here on weekends because it was far from the city center and relatively quiet. Every building in this complex was a semi-detached villa, and the other unit in this building seemed to be unoccupied yet. Furthermore, during the renovation, the homeowner specifically requested double-glazed windows… This was clearly a threat, wasn't it? Wasn't it implying that I was helpless and had no one to turn to? Dizzy and disoriented, I followed the homeowner—no, crawled—going up and down stairs. I wanted to lie down on every bed I saw, but I still couldn't figure out how many rooms there were… Finally, we were back downstairs. Luckily, the house seemed to be regularly cleaned; my hands and knees weren't dirty. This time, the homeowner finally allowed me to stand up, but seeing his scrutinizing gaze, I preferred to remain prone. His eyes were clearly calculating where to start with me! Fortunately, it didn't take long for the homeowner to make a decision. He took out two red ropes and began wrapping them around me. First, he had me put my hands behind my back and tied them in a simple, elaborate style similar to a high-level bondage, with only one line around my breasts. Then, the homeowner took another rope and started working on my back, seemingly carefully binding my hands behind my back. After it was finished, my master led me down the stairs. It turned out that several ropes had been hanging from the second-floor railing sometime during the night! Several of them were tied to my hands behind my back. My master pulled hard, and I involuntarily straightened up, my hands tensing towards my shoulders. My shoulders immediately ached and hurt, and I couldn't help but groan softly. To lessen the pain, I started to whine to my master, "Master, can you be gentler? It hurts so much!" "Heh heh! This is what you call pain? You're already begging for mercy? Didn't you want to be a martyr? Don't try to bargain with me anymore, or I'll hang you like this for two days!" Huh? If I were hung like this for two days, I'd lose my arms. So, I obediently shut up, and my master continued pulling the ropes. To ease the pain in my shoulders, I had to stand on my tiptoes slightly, and although I dared not cry out again, I still looked at my master with pleading eyes. After the master checked that it was about right, he tied the rope to the stair railing next to him, then pulled up another rope, lifted my left leg, folded it at the knee, and secured it with a rope to form a right angle with my right leg. Actually, I'd seen this position countless times in SM movies and photos, but only when it happened to me did I truly understand the humiliation of wanting to disappear into the ground. I've always been proud of my body and haven't considered nudity shameful, so I can undress in front of the master quite readily. But this position completely exposed my most vulnerable parts, like waiting to be slaughtered. Even someone as bold as me couldn't help but blush with shame. The master finally finished, walked around me, seemingly quite pleased with his work, and then pulled back the curtain in front of me. Ah! So what he called a walk-in closet was actually a whole wall of mirrors! To my surprise, I saw myself struggling helplessly among the ropes (actually, I had secretly struggled while being tied up, but it was completely futile...). My weight was borne by my tiptoes and my hands bound behind my back, and with each breath, my body swayed involuntarily, struggling to maintain balance. The red leather collar around my neck and the dangling silver steel chain had become strange decorations. At that moment, I was beautiful! Before I knew it, my master was standing beside me, admiring my reflection in the mirror with me. When our eyes met, they were full of admiration and praise. I lowered my head and whispered, "Thank you, Master." "You're welcome, it's what I should do." My master seemed to suddenly become very interested, running up and down several times, bringing all sorts of strange things, scattering them all over the floor. Various sizes and colors of dildos, some electric, some manual; a dozen leather whips and hand slaps (it seems my master does have a preference for whipping...); all kinds of candles, and countless other things I didn't recognize. The owner stood in front of this pile of things, deep in thought with a serious expression. "Oh dear, am I going to have to try them all over the next couple of days?"

After much deliberation, my master finally chose the lightest item—a feather! He gently brushed my face with it, whispering in my ear, "My sweet little darling, let you enjoy this first." As he spoke, his hand and the feather moved downwards, brushing against my chest. The soft down gently caressed my skin, like the softest tongue, making me tremble uncontrollably. The feather tips teased my nipples, causing them to stand erect in a trembling motion, particularly dazzling against my snow-white skin. The stiff shafts of the feathers always pricked my soft body at the most intense moments, eliciting moans, yet clearly my desire grew stronger. I had forgotten the soreness in my shoulders, closing my eyes and fully enjoying the subtle caresses on my skin.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my nipples. Looking down, I saw that my master had just clipped a clip there! In the dim light, he laughed like a devil: "Feels good? Here, have one here too." He pinched my nipple, then mercilessly clipped another clamp onto it. I plummeted from the peak of desire, my brow furrowed. To my amusement and dismay, the clamps had bells on them; a slight shake produced a clear, ringing sound, making me tremble as I breathed.

To my further surprise, my master reached down and touched my genitals, catching me off guard (of course, bound like that, I had no room to dodge; it was just instinct). "Tsk tsk tsk, you're really sensitive. So much fluid in such a short time, it's a waste not to be a submissive!" he said, showing me his hand. Sure enough, my bodily fluids lingered between his fingers. How could I possibly be at a disadvantage? Without hesitation, I replied, "Master's methods are truly brilliant. Before we even got to the point, this humble servant almost lost her virginity. I've only aroused Master's burning desire; I'm so sorry!" Master looked down and, sure enough, his tent was erect again. Master wasn't angry. He lifted my chin with one hand, looked into my eyes, and still had a teasing expression: "Alright, I just love mischievous and stubborn submissives. Don't disappoint me." He casually adjusted the clip on my left breast, and I was instantly in so much pain that I couldn't speak. Master quickly picked up a hand-held paddle from the ground, pulled up a chair, and sat down behind me.

Compared to this, the hand-held paddle I had tried at the hotel last time was practically a miniature version. This one was square and looked extremely thick, probably 40 or 50 centimeters long, as wide as a man's palm. I couldn't help but shiver.

The first blow landed without warning. I blurted out "Ah!" before the burning pain in my buttocks overwhelmed me, before I could even think about the consequences. My master sat there leisurely, seemingly swinging the racket at will, yet each strike was excruciating. With each slap, I forgot my predicament, desperately trying to move my only controllable leg, wanting to get as far away as possible, oblivious to the throbbing pain in my shoulders and arms. In the vast space, the heavy thud of leather hitting flesh, my screams, and the crisp metallic sound of bells blended into the background music of an infernal hell.

After a dozen or so slaps, perhaps because I was running further and further away, making it inconvenient for my master to slap me, she seemed a little impatient: "Is this how you act as a female martyr? I don't object to screaming, anyway, your screams are quite pleasant, and no one around can hear you. Don't run away anymore!"

I looked at my master with teary eyes and whispered, "It hurts...!"

"Don't run away! Your master gave you this, so you have to endure it! And you've even learned to talk back!" My master seemed a little angry, stood up, and stood behind me. "It hurts? Then what do you call this?" My master reached out and grabbed my breast from behind. I had a premonition that my master was going to do something, and a chill ran down my spine: "Master, I'll be good, I'll endure it, I won't run away..." "

No, if I don't teach you a lesson, you won't remember." Saying that, my master fiddled with the two clips on my nipples. After clamping them for a while, my nipples, which had been somewhat numb, started to hurt terribly again with this movement. I couldn't bear to look at my miserable state in the mirror, so I turned my head to the side.

"Turn around!" My master's stern voice rang in my ears, accompanied by a tight pinch on my nipple. I had no choice but to turn around, looking at my master and me in the mirror, and my poor breasts.

Under my master's hands, my breasts were transformed into various strange shapes, and every time I moved, the clamps on my nipples would be pulled. Learning from my previous experience, I dared not scream, dared not move my body, and could only quietly inhale through my teeth. [The following text appears to be unrelated and possibly from a different source:

"Only then was it all lost,
Chapter Six: First Trial of Love, Candle Burns to Ashes, Tears Dry" [Date: 2006-05-10] Source: Author: [Font: Large Medium Small] Since the moderator isn't paying attention to me, I'll just keep posting like this :d Please also help me bump the previous post: Only then was it all lost, updated to chapter xx, because it has now dropped to the second page, and I can't bump it up myself........... Thank you! Also, I strongly condemn this setting!] (Li Family Courtyard) I'm glad to receive messages from several dominants, but if you go back and read my first post, you'll know I'm not here to find dominants, but simply to exchange ideas with everyone, especially submissives. Theoretically, in an SM relationship, the submissive is essentially in control, deciding the boundaries of the game and when to stop. However, this is difficult to achieve in practice. Even in a harmonious relationship like mine with my dominant, there are conflicts and contradictions because I voluntarily gave up my safe word. Fortunately, I met a good dominant, but I know many submissives aren't so lucky. Some submissives are actually suffering submissives who encounter humiliating dominants, while others are submissive/dominant submissives who encounter female martyr-type dominants, resulting in being forced to do many things they don't want to do. In fact, SM isn't about coercion. The things dominants force submissives to do are things submissives secretly desire, but are afraid to do because of their environment or long-standing upbringing. Dominators should be able to keenly identify these taboos and ruthlessly expose them, rather than brutally abusing submissives and doing whatever they want. Taking myself as an example, I have a low sensitivity to humiliation because my personality allows me to be very uninhibited when I want to, mainly as a "torture-the-female" type. So even though I can sometimes be tortured to the point of unbearable pain by my dominant, I still experience pleasure. I should say my dominant sensed this from the beginning and has always strived in that direction. Conversely, if the dominant starts with things like slapping, foot licking, or "golden touch" as some dominants in real-life experiences, I would be very disgusted, and the end result would be an unpleasant breakup. In the end, I did have foot licking, but that was after I had completely submitted to my master; I also had "holy water," which was my master's punishment. I've written this haphazardly because I actually wanted to offer some advice to dominants and submissives based on my own experience. Real BDSM isn't like what's portrayed in SM novels. The dominant should be clear about rewards and punishments, and what constitutes a reward and what constitutes a punishment requires the dominant to put in the effort to understand. This places high demands on the dominant because submissives are often ashamed or unable to express themselves, or simply don't know. Submissives aren't just a bunch of emotionless bodies; they have their own desires. Without pleasure, no one would willingly be arbitrarily violated. ----------------------------------------Divider---------------------------------------------- Chapter Six: First Encounters, Passion Stirred; Like a Candle Burning to Ashes, Tears Dried. Finally, the clanging and banging stopped. My master let me go, then returned behind me to pick up the paddle (is this really letting me go? -_-!!...). Looking at my uneasy reflection in the mirror, my master said, "There are still twenty more strokes. Count each one out for me. Don't scream, don't try to escape, or... you'll know what the consequences will be." "Yes, Master," I whispered, secretly trembling. Judging from how I had just acted, I probably wouldn't escape... Snap! "One!" I tried my best to control my body, no matter how hard my arms pulled on the rope. Snap! "Two!" Actually, seeing my master raise the paddle in the mirror, I had already tensed my muscles, but it was all in vain. Snap! ...

*Smack!* "Fourteen!" My voice trembled uncontrollably. My buttocks were burning hot, probably already bright red.

*Smack!* ... *

Smack!* "...Ah, ten, eighteen!" Only after crying out in pain did I realize my mistake, looking at my master with trepidation. His indifferent poker face remained unchanged. Had he not heard me?

*Smack!* "Nineteen!" *Smack!* "Twenty!" After enduring the last two blows, I collapsed, panting, as if that would lessen the pain.

My master stroked my skin from behind, his slightly cold hands gently easing some of the pain. I wished he would continue stroking me like that forever. But why was my master starting to take off his clothes? I turned my head in slight panic, but my master said nonchalantly, "You did quite well just now. I originally thought you wouldn't last ten blows, but you only cried out when it was almost over, so this is a reward from your master." Uh, so my master was very perceptive, while I was still foolishly secretly pleased... So, this is the consequence my master was talking about?

While I was still lost in thought, my master's thick penis had already penetrated my body. It had been wet for a while, and his entry was effortless. "Mmm!" I couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Being tied up like this made me so vulnerable to being violated. My master was much taller than me; he only needed to lift my waist to move in and out freely. Although each movement inevitably strained my aching arms, the fullness and pleasure in my lower body spread throughout my body. The sound of the bells on my chest and my uncontrollable moans intertwined into a lewd symphony. My master forced me to look up at myself in the mirror. My face was flushed, whether from joy or shyness, I couldn't tell. My master remained nonchalant, occasionally nibbling at my earlobe and neck, causing me to struggle.

The pleasure gradually intensified, and my moans grew louder. At that moment, my master reached for my chest. After a series of crisp bell sounds, I winced in pain, but dared not cry out; every muscle in my body tensed. Perhaps the sudden tightening of his lower body brought pleasure to his master, for he, who had been silent until now, began to breathe heavily, and the speed of his thrusting increased immediately. His fingers skillfully explored my clitoris, teasing it subtly.

The powerful movements of his master inside me, the waves of pleasure from my clitoris, and the less unbearable stinging in my chest, which became a different kind of stimulation, all contributed to my rapid climax. I writhed wildly, my empty hands trying to grasp something, but I could only clench my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms, a soft cry escaping my throat. A few seconds later, as the afterglow of the climax faded, my master mischievously flicked my clitoris, causing me to scream again, my body trembling uncontrollably.

When I had almost calmed down, his penis withdrew from my body, still proudly erect. I looked at him questioningly, wondering why he hadn't ejaculated on me. As if guessing my thoughts, my master lifted my chin, looked into my eyes, and said, "The game has just begun, the best is yet to come..." He loosened the rope suspending me, and thank goodness, I could finally put my heels on the ground, no longer bearing my entire weight on my toes.

Then, my master turned to face me and said, "I've already rewarded you, now it's time to punish you, since you did make a sound. Now you have a choice: do you want to be punished again, or do you want me to punish your breasts?" Good heavens, I couldn't help but ask the heavens in disbelief, is this what they call giving me a choice? Knowing I couldn't possibly choose that board again, they might as well have just said "breast punishment" (forgive me, Japanese SM movies are just too advanced...). I glared at my master, annoyed, and said, "Thank you for the reward, Master. You're tired, so don't bother with that board." "Hehe, you chose this yourself." My master's hand reached for the two clamps: "Look down, I want you to see how you're punished."

My master gently grasped the ends of the clamps and pulled them outwards. What excruciating pain! The clamps gripped my nipples tightly, slowly sliding outwards under the pull, gradually elongating my delicate nipples. I held my breath in agony, my breasts arching forward. Suddenly, my master released them. I let out a soft "Ah!" and with a clinking sound, I finally saw my breasts return to their normal shape, though the clamps were still attached to the tips.

But the suffering wasn't over. My master found a chain, tied it to the ends of the clamps, and resumed the game. That wretched master! I wished he would just pull the clamps off completely; a short, sharp pain was better than prolonged agony. My master seemed to be enjoying himself, pulling the chain taut, applying only a little more force each time. My breasts became flattened cones, beads of sweat appeared on my chest, and my groans gradually turned into cries of pain.

Finally, the two clamps were pulled off, but the pain far exceeded my expectations. It felt like my nipples were ripped off along with them. I screamed and doubled over in agony, as if that would protect my poor breasts. My master was startled and quickly came over to check. After confirming that my nipples were still intact, he pinched them hard again. (It was later revealed that my master was particularly interested in breast torture and whipping, and even made several torture devices himself, which I will describe later. Here, I can't help but praise my master. Sadomasochism is actually a test of imagination, and my master always understands the psychology of a submissive, always pushing my psychological boundaries, while always being unpredictable. He is skilled at using combinations of various tools and homemade torture devices. Even though I have seen so many photos and movies, there are still many I have never seen before. Of course, while I feasted my eyes, I also suffered quite a bit.)

Next, my master took two red candles. Although I knew these should be low-temperature candles, the memory of being burned by candle wax as a child still sent chills down my spine. My master lit both candles at the same time and dripped them onto my suspended thighs. The scalding candle wax dripped onto my skin, hot but bearable. Afraid of displeasing my master, I feigned a frown and groaned a few times. My master remained unmoved, continuing to drip wax onto my thighs. When there was nowhere left to drip, he turned to the soles of my raised feet. This time, besides the heat, the dripping wax also had a slightly itchy sensation, an itch that ran from my toes to my heart. This time , my groans were more genuine.

Then, my master began to work on my breasts. My previous experience with dripping wax reassured me, and it made me fully understand how difficult it was for actresses in movies to perform, because at a distance of more than a meter, the wax dripping was almost devoid of heat. But watching my delicate breasts being ravaged by the candle still made me uneasy. The first drop of wax, less than 20 centimeters from my skin, still brought a burning sensation. Before I could even groan, the wax that had been accumulating in the candle dripped down, instantly staining my chest a bright red, except for my nipples. The internal heat continued to burn me, and I screamed, but dared not struggle too much, afraid that moving my position would give my master a new excuse (as it turned out, my master always found an excuse...). When I calmed down a little, my master cupped one of my breasts. I guessed what he was going to do and pleaded, "Master, no more, please don't, please, I really can't take it anymore!" My master grinned wickedly, "Don't want it anymore? Try it, just a little bit, it'll feel good. If you really don't want it, just say 'safe word,' and I'll stop immediately." #^#%@[email protected] What safe word? When we established our master-slave relationship, my master said the first time was an experiment for both of us, and once we truly entered this world, there would be no safe word; everything would be a gift from my master, and I would have to accept it all. Now he's talking about safe words!

When one plan failed, I devised another. I deliberately used a sweet, cloying voice to say, "Master, I'll listen to you, but it really hurts! Please, Master, have mercy! If you burn me, I won't be able to serve you anymore." A mischievous glint flashed in my master's eyes. "Alright, then serve Master well until you're burned." My master lowered his head and began to suckle my nipples. His nimble tongue sent shivers down my spine. Once both nipples were erect, he said, "Alright, now that you've served Master well, you can do whatever you want." With that, he poured candle wax onto my nipples. My nipples, still moist from the gentle licking, hadn't fully calmed down and were extremely sensitive to the burning pain. Plus, the distance was only about 10 centimeters, so I could almost feel the heat of the flame (but actually, my master let me off the hook; the moisture left after licking greatly reduced the temperature my skin felt, and besides, it was a low-temperature candle. Thinking about the ordinary birthday candles my master used later... I still shudder when I recall it now). I resisted the urge to struggle and instead pressed myself against my master (considering I was using a feigned innocence tactic...), emitting moans similar to those of a Japanese adult film actress (please use your imagination) while painfully pleading, "Master, I'm a good girl, I'll gladly accept anything you give me, as long as you're happy!" My master remained unmoved, continuing his assault on the other nipple until the candle burned out. Sigh, what a waste of my acting skills...

Thankfully, after the candle-dripping activity ended, my master released me. As soon as the ropes were loosened, I collapsed to the ground, partly because my limbs were numb from being suspended for so long (about three or four hours), and partly because the crying, struggling, and orgasm had taken a toll on my strength. My master let me rest for a while, then asked me to bring him food (actually, it was just the sandwiches and milk I had prepared that morning :p) to serve him, but he wouldn't allow me to remove the candle from my chest. Good heavens, why did I have to be so clever? I already guessed what my master was going to do next, but I preferred not to know; ignorance is bliss...

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I only regret that it was all in vain back then.

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