Memories of SM ----- A 170cm Busty Female M

My first experience witnessing a woman squirt was through SM. To briefly explain,
M is a law master's student. I won't go into the details of our initial contact and interactions; everyone seems to prefer the ending, don't you think?
One Friday morning, 9 AM, the agreed meeting place: Debao Hotel outside Xizhimen.
I arrived at the room early and waited. She was stuck in traffic and texted to say she'd be late, which made me a little angry; I was afraid her ass was about to get a good beating.
Half an hour late, the doorbell rang. A 170cm tall, voluptuous M stood outside, wearing a short skirt, with beautiful skin and a pleasant demeanor.
Upon seeing me, she seemed nervous, a little excited, and awkward .
"Come in," she said gently
. She clearly realized the consequences of being late, looking worried and timid.
Entering, closing the door,
a resolute voice commanding, "Kneel down!" The voice
hesitated at first, then obeyed. The weight shifted from 170cm
to 130cm. I stroked the slave's hair; she closed her eyes, enjoying it, much more relaxed.
Her ears were hot, probably from the excitement of the journey. When I touched her lips, she surprisingly opened them, her wet tongue unconsciously massaging my fingers.
Suddenly, two loud slaps, "Slap, slap!"
The slave snapped out of her pleasure, her eyes wide with surprise and fear, then she felt the burning sensation on her face. I vaguely saw the handprints.
"Two mistakes, find them yourself..."
She knelt there awkwardly, her mind probably blank. The air seemed to freeze, a tense standoff lasting about a minute. I, meanwhile, watched the television nonchalantly.
From the other end came a voice of self-reproach, "Forgot to call me master, forgot to kowtow."
I turned my head and saw what seemed to be tears glistening in her eyes.
"Crawl over on your knees to your master's feet,"
she said, moving towards me with her legs. "Crawl!"... I shouted sharply
. Then I saw an animal crawling on all fours, soon lying prostrate at my feet, its buttocks raised high.
These were all prescribed movements, trained beforehand.
I lifted her short skirt, and the whip began to lash out. The whip flew, sweeping across her thighs and genitals, accompanied by a cacophony of barking.
At this moment, I couldn't help but think of the phrase "one willing to hit, one willing to be hit." The world is truly wondrous.
Then came the bondage. This time, let's change the method. The chair was tilted back, the back facing upwards. The slave lay on her back, her upper body pressed tightly against the chair back from behind, firmly bound to it.
Her two legs were then connected to the four chair legs (I hope everyone can use their imagination).
After the bondage was complete, the biggest advantage was that her flower was blooming directly towards her master.
The slave was relatively fair-skinned, and her stamens were quite pink and translucent, glistening with dew, opening and closing with each breath.
I began my attack, starting with ice and fire: safflower oil + mentholatum + ice cubes.
I applied the safflower oil and rubbed it vigorously, kneading.
The slave writhed excitedly, the chair creaking.
Three minutes later, the slave was drenched in sweat, panting heavily, and muttering something no one could understand—perhaps singing a nursery rhyme?
Then came the cooling balm, applied, or rather, poured on, to
stop the first round of attacks! A damp towel was placed on the slave's face to wipe away the sweat. How considerate! The story continues.
A towel is placed over the slave's eyes, making it easy for her to relax (you can try this regularly to protect your eyes).
The slave is completely off guard.
Then the ice cubes are introduced. Taken from the hotel's mini-fridge, a condom is opened, and ice cubes are inserted.
This new weapon is used to lightly touch the slave's nipples. The slave suddenly contracts, probably quite surprised.
Then the abdomen, legs, clitoris, and lips are touched lightly, almost touching, with some of the melted ice water overflowing and dripping into the clitoris. A struggle and writhing
suddenly occurs. The weapon is then thrust into the clitoris, causing violent spasms.
The room is filled with the sounds of dogs barking and wolves howling—an animal world.
Suddenly, the animal spirit is withdrawn, naturally inserted, with wide, sweeping movements.
Whether it's the melted ice water or some mysterious fluid
, this parched area receives the spring rain.
In just five minutes, the slave is completely submissive, all instincts awakened
. Then, a heart-wrenching, tearful plea is heard: "Fuck...fuck...me, fuck me harder!"
(These kids nowadays are so good at English, it's quite remarkable!)
"Repeat," and then I heard even more urgent breathing and yearning
, "What are you? What is the meaning of your existence?" (This question is philosophical enough, isn't it?)
"Slave, bitch, lowly dog, serving the master, for the master's use, private toy," a series of nouns piled up,
and when the time was right, I took out a dildo, enormous, probably making all the men in the world ashamed and all the women blush. I
inserted it straight in, pushing it to the deepest point.
(Note the premise: due to the ice water and **lubrication, the slave was already very wet, gushing out; otherwise, without proper preparation, such insertion would have resulted in being sent directly to the maternal and child health center after the training.)
The piston movement began, not by turning on the power, violently thrusting
and then pushing all the way in, securing it with tape, but by turning the power on to the maximum,
the mouth above also opened, I had to go feed it, inserting it. The slave had probably been waiting for a long time, greedily sucking, but stopping from time to time, the stimulation below was too intense!
Bells were clipped to the nipples, producing a crisp sound, like the sound of a bullock cart being driven.
I rolled over to the bottom; I knew the downpour was coming, because the slave was already flushed and twitching slightly. With
a ripping sound, the tape was ripped off, startling countless curly pubic hairs (another reason I used tape). The slave screamed. The
assault was truly about to begin. A vibrating egg was inserted into the asshole, turned on, and
the dildo began to tremble, moving in various directions in three-dimensional space
, inserting, withdrawing,
inserting, withdrawing
...
The bells jingled, accompanied by a melodious and excited murmur.
Three minutes later, I saw a world map on the carpet, the ebb and flow of the tide leaving behind beautiful curves.
The slave's limp body breathed softly.
I used a towel dampened with hot water to wipe my beloved dog's body. This was another kind of soothing, another kind of spiritual training.
SM, although it is dominated by sadism, love and tenderness are always the lubricant.
Partners, we are companions for pleasure. The S is definitely not a cold-blooded beast.
Then, the ropes were untied, and the equipment was removed. I saw a more sincere slave
, grateful for the service, licking his master's body. His wriggling tongue was full of poetry,
his gaze was content, and he enjoyed the comfort. Watching TV,
is this also a miracle?! Isn't it?
Rebirth in SM!
I hope this SM world can be cleaner, less superficial, deceitful, and cunning; I hope this SM world can be more compassionate. It's a game, but responsibility is paramount, and it can't be a monstrous flood. Let selfishness go to hell
—past stories, deep memories, the next beautiful moment might be tomorrow, or perhaps it's between you and me, waiting for your exchange, searching for that genuine restlessness.

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