Memories of abuse

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 16:21:59

I'm 27 years old and work as a clerk in a foreign company. As for my looks, I know men would rate me 80 to 90 out of 100. I recently broke up with my boyfriend of two years because I felt he was too effeminate. After a while, I lost all excitement being with him. He wanted me to make all the decisions. At first, it felt good; he loved me so much and listened to everything I said. But as time went on, I found he was sometimes even more effeminate than me. I wanted someone like an older brother—strong, capable, and able to protect me. I didn't want a little sister. So we broke up. I

was quite depressed after the breakup, but now I'm better. Because I'm busy with work, I don't have any lingering worries, and my mood is much lighter. Today is Friday. After finishing my work, I can enjoy a week's vacation granted by my boss—perfect! To avoid causing trouble for the company, I did a lot of extra cleanup work, and it was already past 10 pm when I finished.

On my way home, I was so immersed in the joy of tomorrow's vacation that I didn't notice anything changing around me. Suddenly, someone rushed out from behind, grabbed me around the waist, and pushed me to the ground. I was terrified; my mind went blank, and I forgot to resist. The person pinning me down forcefully twisted my arms behind my back, and I felt him tying my wrists with something. Only then did I think to struggle. I tried to twist my body, but the person sat on my buttocks, easily stopping my struggle.

As I tried to scream, a pair of leather shoes appeared in front of me—it was another person. He squatted down, reached out and lifted my chin, pinching my cheeks with his fingers. It hurt so much! I had to open my mouth, and he stuffed a wad of cloth into it, then tied a cloth strip between my teeth and behind my head. I could only whimper, the sounds so distant and powerless through the cloth. Then a black cloth was put over my head, and I couldn't see anything anymore.

Oh God, someone save me! The person sitting on me had already bound my hands tightly. He then sat on my lap, binding my ankles together. I felt a force pulling my hands and feet together; the bound areas were both painful and numb. I was powerless to resist and could only go with the flow. I clearly felt my hands touch my feet, then be firmly secured by ropes. I felt like a shrimp curled up backwards, lying helplessly on the ground, at their mercy.

After a while, I heard a car stop beside me. Someone picked me up and placed me in the car. I couldn't hear anyone speaking, only the sound of the car starting. The person who carried me laid me across his lap and kept reaching his hands to my sensitive areas. I tried to twist my body to escape, but how could I get far? He would sometimes put his hands inside my shirt, kneading my breasts, and sometimes inside my skirt, touching my genitals. I was panting heavily, filled with both hatred and fear. The car drove around for a while before finally stopping. Two men carried me for a distance, then put me down. The cloth covering my head was removed, and the bright lights made it difficult to see anything. After a while, I finally saw two men squatting in front of me.

One was taller, the other shorter. Both wore masks made of women's pantyhose, only their eyes and mouths were visible, so I couldn't see their faces. The taller man waved a knife in front of me. I was terrified, afraid they were going to kill me.

The taller man said, "Beautiful lady, do you know why we're wearing masks? Because we don't want to kill you. As long as you're obedient and cooperate, we'll let you go when we're done. Nod if you understand."

He seemed to know what I was thinking, and hearing this lessened my fear somewhat. "As the saying goes, it's better to live a miserable life than to die a good death. I'm only 27 years old, and my good days are just beginning. I don't want to die like this."

So I nodded with difficulty. The short man untied the rope that bound my hands and feet together, and I finally felt a little more comfortable. I stretched my waist and pulled my legs in front of me. The shorter man unzipped my skirt and easily took it off, while the taller man slapped a knife against my face and said, "Cooperate, understand?"

I thought, "I'm lucky to be alive. It seems I can't avoid being raped. In this situation, tied up like this, there's no point in resisting. Anyway, I'm not a virgin, so what's the big deal? I'll just grit my teeth and bear it." So I nodded.

The shorter man pulled my underwear and pantyhose down to my ankles, then he untied the ropes binding my feet. I really wanted to kick him, but I didn't dare. He took off my high heels, then my underwear and pantyhose, and now my lower body was naked. The taller man helped me up and led me to a small table, which was slightly lower than my thighs. Some, about half a meter wide and a meter long.

The tall one sat on the table, wrapped his legs around my waist, and began to unbutton my shirt. The shorter one squatted behind me, took a wooden stick about forty centimeters long, stood it upright behind my knees, and then tied knots with rope around my thighs and calves, tightly binding the stick behind my legs. After both legs were treated this way, I found that I could no longer bend my knees and could only stand straight.

Then the shorter one spread my legs apart and tied my ankles to the legs on either side of the table. At this time, the tall one had already unbuttoned my shirt, and the shorter one untied the rope binding my hands. "Ugh, my hands are numb from being tied up..." The tall one didn't give me time to think and commanded, "Take off your shirt and bra." My legs and waist were under their control, and there was a gleaming sharp knife in front of me. Any resistance was impossible. I obediently took off my shirt, but taking off my bra in front of strangers was really embarrassing.

"Snap." "I was hit on the face, which startled me so much that I quickly reached behind my back, unhooked the bra, and took it off my shoulder. Just like that, my full breasts were exposed in front of him. I suddenly realized that I was completely naked... The short man didn't give me any time to cover myself. He immediately twisted my hands behind my back and said to me, 'Grab your right arm with your left hand and your arm with your right hand.'" "

I had no choice but to do as he asked. I felt him tie my forearms, which were folded together, together with a rope. Then another rope was wrapped around each arm twice. The shorter man started to tighten the rope between my arms, pulling my arms closer together and stretching my shoulders back to their limit. He tied a knot behind my back to secure it, and then wrapped the remaining rope around my already bound arms. He pulled the rope upwards, and when he saw that the rope I was pulling was forcing me forward, he held the rope on my back with one hand and wrapped the rope around my neck with the other, then back around my back. He pulled the rope downwards to shorten it as much as possible, and finally tied it to a rope behind me.

My arms were hanging behind me like that. I didn't know what kind of binding this was, or why he was doing it this way." It was so complicated; I just felt it was much more uncomfortable than just having my wrists tied. The places the rope passed through were painful, sore, and numb. Even more annoying was that the rope around my neck was making it hard to breathe, and even swallowing hurt. To relieve the pressure on my neck, I had to try my best to tilt my head back, and to ease the pain of my shoulders being pulled back, I also had to push my chest forward. Looking straight ahead with my chest out was the perfect way to look at me right now.

You know what? Actually, what women fear most being seen isn't their lower body, but their breasts—it's simple, because they're close to their face. But now, not only could I not hide my breasts, I had to try to stick them out as much as possible, showing them to the man in front of me. I saw the big guy's eyes staring at my chest, his eyeballs practically popping out; the humiliation and anger I felt were indescribable.

Finally, the big man's gaze fell on my face. He reached out and untied the gag from my mouth, removing the wad of cloth stuffed inside. Finally, I could breathe freely again. Just as I was about to beg him to let me go, he made a shushing gesture with a knife over my mouth, making me swallow my words in fear. He then took a strange object from his pocket, with a ring in the middle and leather straps on either side. He ordered me to open my mouth, and I had no choice but to obey. He inserted the ring flat into my mouth, wrapping the straps around the back of my head. As the straps tightened, the ring inside my mouth gradually stood upright. Although it was covered in leather, it was still very hard, pressing painfully against my upper jaw. I had no choice but to open my mouth to its upright angle. By the time he fastened the straps, the damned ring was completely upright, and my mouth was stretched to its maximum opening. He then took a rope. "Oh my god, they seem to really enjoy tying women up. This is endless! I'm already tied up so badly I can't move anymore. I can't resist! Just let me go after you're done raping me!"

I screamed inwardly. He wrapped the rope across my breasts, around my back, crossed it, and then around my chest, this time tying it under my breasts. After tightening the rope, he tied a knot, then threaded one end through my cleavage and fastened it to the rope across my breasts. My chest was already as pert as it could possibly be, and the pressure of the two ropes pushed my breasts out even further. Suddenly, I felt my breasts were much larger than usual. I never imagined my breasts would become so big. "

If I walked outside, I'd definitely be a heartbreaker for men. Damn it, why would I think of that at such a terrible time?" The big guy jumped off the table, and the smaller guy pushed me down onto it from behind. The big guy moved my shoulders to adjust my position, so that my breasts were hanging off the edge of the table. He handed the remaining rope from under the table to the shorter man, who took it, wrapped it around my waist, pulled it down hard, and tied it under the table. My abdomen was now completely pressed against the table, and I couldn't move anymore.

Only then did I understand why they had tied wooden sticks behind my legs. The table was lower than my spread thighs, and because I couldn't bend my knees and my abdomen was pressed against the table, my buttocks were sticking up high. I could clearly feel my lower body completely exposed to the air, and my spread legs had also spread my labia apart. I could feel waves of cold air passing over my lower body. I felt like a female dog (how awful) waiting to mate. The worst part was that in this most humiliating position for a woman, I actually started to feel a strange pleasure.

I began to look forward to their further abuse. I really didn't understand what was wrong with me. The tall man placed a water glass in front of me, right in front of my mouth. I looked at the empty glass in front of me in confusion. "Give me some water? Doesn't seem like it..." They started surrounding me, commenting, as if to say I was pretty hot. Suddenly the shorter guy left. When he came back, he squatted behind me, grabbed my feet, and said, "What are you doing? Oh my god, he's putting on my shoes, the high heels I just took off."

The heels were at least five centimeters high. After putting them on, my heels left the ground, and I was standing on tiptoe—no, I should say lying on tiptoe. The high heels had become a form of torture, forcing my buttocks higher into the air. I felt my entire lower body struggling to break free, my waist feeling like it was about to snap. "Oh my god, I'll never wear high heels again!"

I almost cried. At that moment, I had no strength left to support my head, and I slumped down helplessly. Ah. I understood the purpose of the water glass in front of me. The ring in my mouth stubbornly remained erect, forcing me to keep my mouth wide open. This rendered my oral cavity completely immobile, making swallowing impossible. Saliva production seemed many times greater than usual, flowing down my lips and tongue, forming two glistening lines on my upper and lower lips, stretching into long strands, dripping into the cup. These two must do this often; they were fully prepared.

Honestly, this was something I had never experienced or even imagined. Although I felt deeply humiliated, I was increasingly aroused. The shorter man began to caress my entire body, from my back down to my buttocks, thighs, and calves. My skin trembled with his touch, and the areas bound by the ropes began to ache, turning into a tingling itch that seeped into my heart and spread throughout my body. Instinctively, I tried to twist my body, but the ropes prevented this. A tremendous turmoil then gathered in my lower body.

The short man suddenly said, "Beautiful lady, you're very pretty and you have a great sex drive. Look, I've only been at it a couple of times and your nectar is already flowing." Hearing his words, a surge of heat rushed to my head. It was true, even though I couldn't see, I could clearly feel my genitals secreting, flowing, and dripping, just like my mouth. "How can I feel sexual desire during rape?
No, I haven't been raped yet, what's wrong with me? When did I have such a strong sexual urge? God, I don't want this. It doesn't make sense."

Just as I was lost in thought, something warm, moist, and soft slid up and down my vulva. Based on past experience, I knew it was the short man licking my genitals with his tongue. Ah, it felt so good! My whole body trembled immediately. I wanted this feeling. I desperately clenched my buttocks, hoping to grab his tongue and keep him there forever. The big guy stripped naked in front of me, revealing a thick penis. To be honest, my boyfriend's penis couldn't compare. He reached out and kneaded my swollen breasts, occasionally pinching my erect nipples.

Actually, I was already aroused from the little guy's thrusts from behind, and now I was in the excited stage. I started to look forward to being raped. I knew my vaginal opening was open because a cool breeze was seeping into my body through it. I breathed heavily, moaning in my throat to express my excitement. I heard the little guy shout from behind, "Your clitoris is coming out, great, you're so horny!"

To be honest, I really hate being called a slut; it's so insulting. But at that moment, I felt really good. The little guy attacked my clitoris, rubbing, licking, rotating, and thrusting with his tongue, blowing and sucking with his mouth. At that moment, I cried out like a female cat in heat, swaying my hips up and down and side to side to match the little guy's tongue. "

Hurry, hurry, I'm almost there, almost there, ah..." I cried out in my heart. Finally, it felt like an atomic bomb had exploded on my clitoris, becoming incredibly hot. Then, like a shockwave, the heat quickly swept through my entire body. Ah, I screamed loudly, it was so stimulating! If it weren't for the annoying ring in my mouth, making my voice sound like a distant cat's meow, many people would have heard it. Really, this was the only regret of this orgasm, because I couldn't release my satisfaction in any other way.

The short man stood up, and then, a round thing pressed against the entrance of my vagina. "It's coming, it's finally coming, I'm about to be raped, come on! Hurry up."

My body was already prepared to be raped, really, no matter how he raped me, I was willing. My brain had completely lost its resistance; the needs of my body had become the priority. His glans squeezed in, oh, it was so big, I could feel my vaginal opening being stretched open, the tightest part being stretched sore and numb, the feeling was so intense, so exhilarating.

This was the first time such a thick penis had entered my body. Don't laugh, but before this, I didn't know men came in different sizes. My boyfriend could satisfy me, so I thought he was the best. I never imagined that someone so short could have such a large penis. But this short guy was naughty; he only let the head of his penis go in and out of my vagina, repeatedly but refusing to go deeper, leaving me feeling incredibly empty inside. I clenched my vagina tightly to express my dissatisfaction. The short guy laughed and patted my butt, saying, "Little sister, can't wait? Squeeze me a few more times."

As I clenched again, he thrust in without warning. My vagina was already very wet, and I couldn't hold on to him at all. His glans kept hitting my cervix, and my vagina was completely filled. That feeling of being filled was wonderful. I trembled with excitement and let out a satisfied scream. The short man began to thrust long and powerfully, and my vagina tightly enveloped his penis. With each wave of attack, I was quickly brought to the peak of pleasure again. I could clearly feel the spasms in my lower abdomen and lower body, and a wave of heat surged from deep within my vagina and spread to every part of my body. This orgasm was much more intense than the previous one. I felt as if my whole body had been reassembled. The short man stopped, as if waiting for my climax to subside.

The big guy lifted my chin, his erect penis pointing straight at my lips like a machine gun. I had experience with oral sex before, but I was always in control; I wouldn't let my boyfriend's penis go too deep. But now, all the control was in the big guy's hands. Unlike the little guy, he went straight in the first time.

To be honest, when he first entered my mouth, the hot penis touching my cold lips felt strange. But as he went through the rings and kept going deeper, the head of his penis hitting the back of my throat, I couldn't take it anymore. And he, he'd only gone halfway.

The ropes binding me tightly to the table prevented me from moving away. The damned ring in my mouth prevented me from biting him. His penis plunged deep into my throat, and I felt his pubic hair touch my nose. Then, my lips pressed against his body. Ugh, my stomach churned. Just before I was about to vomit, he pulled out. I gasped for breath, cursing the person who invented the ring. It not only prevented me from screaming freely but also turned my mouth into a helpless vagina. The big guy commanded, "Your oral sex skills aren't very good. Hurry up and use your tongue to serve me, or I'll go a few more deep thrusts." I could only

try my best to move my tongue around his glans, hoping he would have pity on me. The little guy behind me started thrusting again. My dissipated lust began to resurface. I tried to adjust the angle of my head to accommodate the penis in my mouth. Slowly, as it went deeper, I didn't feel so nauseous anymore. They worked in tandem, entering and exiting together, occupying both my mouths. I began to lose my senses; the power of lust overwhelmed everything. I felt satisfied when they entered, and empty when they left. My

sex life with my boyfriend before was also enjoyable, but these two gave me a completely new experience. Making love in this way—no, it was rape—shocked my body. Under their manipulation, I trembled and went mad. My body became increasingly sensitive, endless orgasms shattering me again and again, only to regenerate me once more. My entire body

was covered in sweat. The love fluid secreted from my lower body flowed down my thighs into my shoes, and saliva dripped from my mouth onto my chest. The shorter man behind me began to breathe rapidly, his thrusts becoming brief and rapid. Suddenly, he slammed into me with all his might, his thick glans pressing hard against my cervix. A gush of hot semen shot out, hitting my slightly open cervix. Unlike the previous orgasms, this time my uterus felt like it was exploding. My whole body trembled, my vagina gripping his penis tightly, as if trying to drain him dry. The taller man in front of me also increased his speed, thrusting deeply into my throat. At this point, I could barely breathe, in a semi-suffocated state. The urge to vomit disappeared, and my oxygen-deprived brain began to hallucinate.

Pleasure even came to my mouth, and finally, a thick liquid shot out, the hot semen burning my esophagus. I had never swallowed semen before; the taste was strange, completely different from the salty liquid secreted from the glans penis at the beginning. It was quite unpleasant. But he didn't leave me, so I had to tilt my head back and swallow the semen bit by bit with difficulty.

Finally, they left my body satisfied, while I entered a state of exhaustion, a natural reaction after extreme excitement. I vaguely saw them share the cup of saliva that had flowed from my mouth, praising my taste.

After what seemed like an eternity, they began to untie my restraints, removing the annoying gag. As I was helped to stand, air was expelled from my vagina with a sound like a fart, and the short man's semen gushed out. I suddenly felt very shy, blushing and lowering my head. I knew I must have looked beautiful then, so much so that they all exclaimed in unison.

They gently carried me into the bathroom, as I was too weak to walk. They placed me on a bed, washed my entire body with warm water, and massaged the areas bound by the ropes, where red marks remained. Finally, they dried me off, carried me to the bed in the bedroom, and embraced me. I curled up in their arms like a child, sobbing softly.

These two men began to tell me they had been watching me for some time. Because of my beauty, they didn't want to hurt me, but they were determined to have me. They said they wore masks to avoid putting themselves in danger, so I wouldn't be able to call the police because I didn't know what they looked like. Honestly, I was grateful to them. Otherwise, raping and then killing me wouldn't have taken much effort. They kept pantyhose over their heads; it must have been unpleasant. I even felt hot wearing them for

a long time. They asked me if I felt good that day, if I was satisfied during sex. I struggled internally, but ultimately, physical sensations prevailed. I confessed to them that this was something I had never experienced before. I was scared at first, but then it felt good.

But I was still puzzled by their actions. They told me this was a popular form of sex around the world, called SM or bondage. They told me that women have a deep-seated desire to be raped, and when they are in this state of extreme passivity, their physical potential is unleashed, allowing them to be completely immersed in sex and achieve orgasms that are unattainable through normal intercourse.

Really, I understood. When I went from fear to resignation, from freedom to confinement, my senses went from constantly searching to being focused. Completely dedicated to the theme of sex, I no longer felt ashamed of my transformation; I had simply reached another level—a level an ordinary girl would never know. The two of them actually begged me to stay and play again. Although I was still unwilling, I didn't dare resist too much. What if they turned hostile? I still wouldn't be able to escape. I told them I was too tired today and needed to rest. Could we do it tomorrow?

They agreed, but demanded another round of binding, which they called "training." First, they bound my breasts. They made me raise my hands, binding them similarly to before, except they added two more knots under my armpits to connect the upper and lower ropes. It looked a bit like a bra without a fabric cover. They told me this would make a woman's breasts fuller and firmer. Although it hurt a bit, it was simple, practical, and very effective. Of course, there were many other methods, but they were afraid I couldn't handle it, so they wouldn't use them today.

After binding my breasts, they brought my hands behind my back. They first used a rope to tightly bind my elbows together, then tied my wrists together. I felt like I only had one arm attached to my back. Next, they tied a rope around my waist and then started tying knots in the remaining rope, tying one every two centimeters, several times in total. "Strange job." I asked them why, and they only told me it was a tool to arouse me. I said, "Ugh, don't use that word."

Strangely, my tone was more like a whining. They said, "Okay, let's call it being in heat then." After tying the knots, they made me kneel on the bed, pulled the rope through my lower body to my buttocks, looped it around my lower back, tightened it, and then tied it to my wrists with the rope around my elbows. The rope immediately sank deep into my lower body. I felt it part my labia, and the knots landed precisely on my clitoris, vaginal opening, and anus—the most sensitive areas.

"Ouch..." I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, my whole body instantly burning. As I collapsed weakly onto the bed, the shorter man tied a rope around one of my ankles, then bent my lower leg towards my thigh. When my heel touched my buttocks, the remaining rope was tightly bound to my thigh. The taller man then crumpled my underwear and pantyhose into a ball and stuffed them into my mouth. I saw him deliberately turn my underwear inside out, placing the crotch area closest to my genitals on the outside, and even holding it under his nose, sniffing it intensely. Looking at the yellowish stain on my crotch, my face flushed crimson with embarrassment. Everyone knows the physiological characteristics of a girl in her twenties; that area is rarely clean.

And I hadn't changed clothes these past two days because of work, not to mention the earlier fright, I'd even urinated a little... Oh dear, how embarrassing! But seeing his ecstatic expression, I also wondered what it tasted like down there. My tongue touched that sticky, slippery surface; it was a little salty, a little sour, and mostly smelled of urine. That's

probably where the term "slut" for women comes from. Then he took something like a mask and put it over my mouth. This thing was much more complicated than a mask. First, there was a cylinder at the mouth area, which, once inserted, prevented me from closing my lips. The outer leather covered my nose all the way to my chin, and both cheeks were completely covered. There were also three leather straps fastened to the back of my head, the top of my head, and my chin.

I felt like my head had become a package. Now, apart from sneezing, it was difficult for me to make any sound they could hear.

After I was tied up like this, they told me I had to go out for a bit to have a smoke. They turned off the light and left the room. I lay there, immersed in darkness, reflecting on the day's events. After a short while, the areas bound by ropes began to throb with my heartbeat, especially my breasts. Each heartbeat forced blood into them, while the ropes prevented blood flow back. I felt my breasts swell with each bounce, and my nipples began to erect.

My whole body began to stir. I tried to roll over, attempting to press down on my breasts to relieve the swelling. But even the slightest movement of my arms immediately pulled the ropes that were digging into my genitals. The friction they created made my whole body tremble. I wanted to curl up into a ball, but instead, my genitals protruded even further, intensifying the friction. I began to constantly change positions. No matter how I positioned my bound leg, it created a stark contrast with the other leg, making me feel as if I were split in two.

No matter what position I'm in—lying on my back, prone, side, sitting, or kneeling—it won't give me a moment's peace. I'm like an ant on a hot pan on the bed, constantly rolling around. And every change in my body pulls on that deadly rope, especially those knots, which are firmly stuck to my most sensitive areas, relentlessly gnawing at them. With the previous binding method, I couldn't move at all. Now it's much better; I can do many things, but the situation is worse. You simply can't find a position where you can stay comfortably. Having a choice makes me even more helpless than having no choice at all.

At first, the panties and stockings in my mouth could absorb some moisture, but now they were saturated with saliva. As I moved, saliva streamed down my face. The unspoken, suppressed urges (please forgive me for using this word for myself, it's just too apt) were even more unbearable. My whole body was covered in sweat, as if I'd been washed, and my lower body was the worst affected area, with slippery, abundant lustful fluid secreting, staining my thighs and even running down to my abdomen. I began to long for those two men to return to my side; only they could extinguish my burning desire. Suddenly, the lights came on.

They stood by the bed, and without hesitation, I rolled towards them, offering myself to them. They caressed my entire body, and soon all my restraints were removed—the mask and everything else were gone. Relaxed, I wholeheartedly devoted myself to serving them, with my mouth, with every inch of my skin. They took turns penetrating my mouth, flattening my breasts and stretching my nipples, but this brought me not pain but pleasure. During this lovemaking, I gave them not only my body but also my soul.

When we finally calmed down, it was four in the morning. They agreed to take me home, but to give me a lasting memory, they had to tidy me up a bit more. This final binding was simple: the same rope tied around my lower body, tightened around my waist, passed through my lower body, and tied at my lower back. My breasts weren't bound. I put on a bra, a top, and a skirt. They then helped me put on my wet panties and pantyhose, and put on my shoes. After all this was done, my hands were bound behind my back, but this time not so tightly. See, I've gotten much more used to it. A black hood was put over my head again. They helped me into the car. When the car stopped, I was taken off. The hood was removed, and a tall man put a pill in my mouth. I was startled. He said, "Forgive us, we didn't use a condom today.

You probably don't want to get pregnant, right? Don't worry, this pill will prevent any problems. Also, please don't worry, my brother and I don't mess around. We're as clean as you." After I swallowed the pill, he held my handbag in front of me and made me open my mouth. The bag's shoulder strap wrapped around my teeth twice, and the bag hung behind my neck. I had a bunch of keys in my hand behind my back. He said to me, "You'll have to walk back yourself for those few dozen meters. Goodbye." The word "goodbye" sounded strange.

The car drove away. On the empty street, I walked home alone with difficulty. Every step the rope around my waist bit me. When I finally reached my door, I turned around and struggled to open the door. In the kitchen, I used a knife to cut the rope around my wrists. As I walked back to bed, I undressed. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, fatigue and drowsiness overwhelming me. I didn't even have the strength to untie the rope around my lower body, and I fell asleep. A

throbbing pain in my lower abdomen woke me; it was already past ten in the morning. I staggered to the bathroom, plopped down on the toilet, and ouch, the rope around my lower body made me jump again. Yesterday's thrilling experience flashed through my mind. I reached down to my lower back to untie the rope, but for some reason, my hands trembled violently. The urge to urinate made me give up after a few seconds, deciding to urinate first. Unable to hold it in any longer, as the urine gushed out, the rope inside my lower body transmitted the warm urine to my entire vulva. The burning stimulation and the relief of urination made me involuntarily groan.

Finally, I had to use a knife to remove the rope that had aroused me (no, it was rubbing against me, and even that wasn't it, it should be called… damn it, I hate it). Without the restraints, I felt relieved. Looking at the red marks covering my body, I was overwhelmed with emotions. What was yesterday anyway? Was it rape? I had been proactive, too. Was it painful? There was plenty of pleasure too. Should I call the police? Absolutely not, because Ms. Zhao from the company is a detective, and she often talks about cases at the company, as if her information is incredibly accurate.

She's also talked about rape, and those police officers are most interested in that kind of thing. They'll ask you about your position during the rape, how wide your legs were spread, how long the other person's penis was, and so on, in incredible detail. Why should I let them rape my mind again? Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore. Let it all pass! At least I'm still alive.

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