Days of being kept

In Beijing, everyone knows about the Heaven on Earth Club. But many say the real Heaven on Earth isn't the one behind the Great Wall Hotel; it's not a place just anyone can get into, not just men, but women too.
But I got in, and easily.
Because I had a nice butt and a pretty face. Because I was young; I skipped a grade in middle school, and the year I enrolled at a prestigious university in Beijing, I was just two months shy of 18.
So they had no reason not to take me, and I had no reason not to go. Because I needed money, and more importantly, because even if I didn't go, in this already corrupt city of Beijing, my youth and body would only benefit some stinky kid at school.
Since that's the case anyway, I might as well sell myself and make a little money. So I came to Heaven on Earth, and apart from having to kneel and serve, everything else was great. I really liked this place. It wasn't very big, but it was luxurious—the kind of luxury I'd never seen in my hometown. My hometown isn't the countryside, and I'm not the daughter of a laid-off worker. I've seen luxurious places before, but when I walked in here, I was still taken aback. I didn't know what to do with my hands and feet, afraid of breaking something—something I could never afford to pay for.
Because I'd already come to terms with it, even though it was my first time working as an escort, I didn't feel awkward at all. I skillfully applied what I'd been trained to the customers, kneeling respectfully and humbly beside the sofa—actually, it wasn't as difficult as I'd imagined; it was just kneeling. I felt like a young maid from an old-fashioned mansion, but my body wasn't that of a maid.
I must have been lucky to encounter such a big client on my first job. A few middle-aged men were drinking and laughing, discussing business deals worth hundreds of millions. And they were just drinking and chatting; they only made a few jokes about the girls serving us, without taking any further action.
I was quite puzzled. If they wanted to chat and drink, there were obviously designated places here. Why come to a private room that cost several times more? It wasn't until they were all slightly tipsy and saying their goodbyes that I realized everyone had taken a female companion with them—but no one had chosen me.
This greatly damaged my confidence, and I dejectedly prepared to ask for leave after the last guests left.
But when only one person remained in the room, pouring themselves a drink, I realized that the companions had all left, leaving me alone. The worry I
had just felt about no one choosing me suddenly turned tense. What should I do if he wanted to take me out?
I secretly glanced at the man on the sofa. He was middle-aged, and I couldn't tell his age. He seemed to be in good shape, without a beer belly, and had a square face. If you saw him on the street, you would never guess he would come to a place like this. Just like if you saw me on campus, no one would expect me to be kneeling here in heavy makeup at night.
The man finished his drink, stood up, and walked over to me—just moments before, my girlfriends had been crowding around, while I, the newbie, had been on the sidelines, handing them odds
and ends. Now that this man was here, my heart pounded, and my face flushed.
Although thanks to the internet and the booming Japanese adult video industry, I knew about relationships, and I even dared to work in a place like this during my first week of school, no man had ever actually touched me before, and I didn't know if I was ready.
I stood there dumbfounded, head down, until someone pulled me up from the ground and I heard a slightly hoarse baritone voice: "I didn't see you drinking earlier!" My face was red; I didn't dare look at him, but I didn't dare leave, or even answer. All the training I'd received was long forgotten. In a daze, I was pulled into his arms.
The smell of alcohol mixed with his masculine scent reminded me of my father. I stumbled and was pulled out the door. The air in Beijing in September was finally a bit cooler. The night breeze blew against me, and I finally came to my senses. I asked, "Um... um... I need to tell the supervisor..."
He laughed, his voice loud, and asked, "New here?" while lifting my rosy cheek, his round eyes fixed on me.
I turned my head away, courage and the cool breeze blowing in, and said, "Yes, so what?"
"Do you know where we're going?"
"No!" I answered truthfully.
He laughed again, and then the car arrived, a luxury car whose brand I didn't recognize—at that time, I only knew Mercedes and BMW.
The car was large, but he sat in the front with the driver.
Then the car sped across the Beijing night sky.
I peered out the window; the city was brightly lit, and many people were on the streets, carrying many sorrows and joys, going home or leaving home.
I wasn't familiar with the roads in Beijing, so I didn't bother to memorize the directions. I just stared blankly outside until the man pulled me out and led me to a villa. A magnificent villa, and this was the place where I was about to be defiled.
Well, it's a pretty good place anyway. Since women are going to be taken advantage of sooner or later, it's good to choose a great place. My mood seemed to lighten up. I quickly showered in a bathroom that was even bigger than my dorm room and ran out.
But I didn't expect him to be sitting on the sofa wrapped in a towel—oh well, thinking about it, how could such a big house only have one bathroom!
So I quickly walked over, gently sat on his lap, and then…and then I had absolutely no idea what to do—I had no experience!
Fortunately, things in bed don't require the woman to be too proactive. Even though I'm just a poor student and he's a big boss, he still has to take the initiative.
The man's large hand reached into my open bathrobe, kneading my breasts, and then he laughed, "How old are you?"
I was stunned for a moment before I understood what he meant. He was clearly mocking my small breasts!
Damn it, I want big breasts too, but it's impossible.
I pouted and didn't say anything.
He seemed to like me like this, gently rubbing my nipples with his fingertips.
God…how did he know my standard masturbation technique! My nipples seemed to be the most sensitive spot on my body; I couldn't bear it even when I did it myself, let alone with a strange man. My body went limp instantly, and I just wanted to lean on something, so I naturally nestled into his arms, very naturally, very naturally.
Although he was a seasoned lover, he probably hadn't seen me like this before—a prostitute, yet acting like a daughter in her father's arms, a little shy, a little happy—so I could feel his breathing become heavier.
But my heart was racing, and my breathing was rapid! He was truly an expert, calmly and patiently touching my body, from the sofa to the bed. I bit my lip as he carefully touched me from head to toe, not missing a single part of my body. When he parted my legs, I gritted my teeth to keep my body from trembling too much, but he still noticed.
Then he looked at me with some surprise, then parted my already wet private parts, carefully touching them with his finger, and said, "How old are you?" The same question, but with a different meaning.
I didn't answer. He didn't ask again, but he didn't stop either, only saying, "I'll be gentle!"
I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry. Women who sell themselves are really cheap! My virginity only earned me a "I'll be gentle!"
I suddenly felt very sad, but the situation didn't give me any time to process my feelings. My fair body was turned over, and he used his hands to spread my buttocks apart—he didn't even spare that part!
My tears still fell. My body had no privacy left; every part of me had been seen and touched by this man.
He pulled me up abruptly, seemingly oblivious to my expression, or perhaps even enjoying it. I knelt on the bed, while he stood on the floor, his penis erect and unobstructed.
I understood his meaning; I knew I had no choice but to continue. I pressed my hands against my knees to prop myself up, leaning forward slightly, my forehead against his abdomen. I opened my mouth, and his penis, still glistening with semen, slid directly into it. The salty taste mixed with his masculine scent. Having such a large thing in my mouth was indeed uncomfortable. I held it like that for a while, then began to move my head back and forth, just like in AV movies.
Women are indeed adaptable; soon I was used to the feeling of having something in my mouth. I started trying to swallow the penis deeper, or lick the tip with my tongue, just like in AVs. I served the man diligently, needing no instruction, just as women have done for thousands of years. This ability seemed to be ingrained in my blood.
So when I lay in bed staring at the mural on the ceiling, I didn't feel much pain down there, nor did I cry over the brutal violation of my private parts, which I had kept hidden for over a decade. On the contrary, I quickly felt the legendary pleasure—yes, a captivating feeling, completely different from when I masturbated. It was fulfilling and intense.
The man's body pressed against mine, and strangely, I didn't feel any weight at all. Instead, I felt a little bit of happiness. Although I was just a prostitute, I thought that after doing this a few more times, I wouldn't have such childish thoughts anymore.
He seemed to have completely forgotten his promise, or perhaps he preferred the feeling of a woman moaning beneath him when he was deflowering her, or maybe he was dissatisfied with my dazed expression. In any case, I felt him suddenly increase his strength. The mature man's body slammed into my thighs again and again, his penis rampaging through my newly-womanized body. The pain quickly overshadowed the pleasure, and my low moans turned into loud cries of pain: "Sir, be gentle!"
"What did you call me?"
he shouted, thrusting even harder, completely losing his former elegance.
"Big brother, be gentle! Be gentle!"
He ignored me and continued to brutally ravage my body. I didn't know what to call him, so I gritted my teeth and pleaded, "Husband, please be gentle!"
He still wouldn't stop, continuing to sneer as he fucked me.
I almost despaired. The man who had been drinking alone in the club, laughing and asking me how old I was, was gone, replaced by a sneering demon! Men really are all perverts, that's true. There are only two kinds: rich perverts who have money and ability to do evil and poor perverts who have no money and ability but can only fantasize.
I cried, not knowing what to call him, while he continued to fuck me, slapping my not-so-full breasts. The pain stimulated my nerves, and the special pleasure tormented my body. I changed my words and begged for mercy until I cried out, "Daddy, please have mercy on me!"
Only then did he take a deep breath and growl. Then I felt a sudden heat in my body, knowing that I could finally rest.
But this was just my delusion. He was very strong, and soon he fucked me again.
When I woke up the next morning, I was lying in bed, my body aching. I struggled to get up and checked the time, and was immediately shocked – it was almost 10 o'clock!
I had a class with the dean of the college at 10:30,
and I absolutely couldn't skip it! I quickly put on my clothes, only to realize that I had left my clothes at the club. This was the club's uniform, and it was incredibly revealing! But there was no one in the villa, so they weren't worried about me stealing anything. I was utterly helpless. I reluctantly put on the club uniform, tore off the tags, and then ran out, covering my chest, intending to haile a taxi and rush to school.
The taxi driver was kind enough to turn a corner and stop for me on the other side of the street, saying, "We're here! No charge!"
I then realized I had no money on me. I thanked him sheepishly and slipped into the school under the driver's strange gaze – thankfully, I wasn't stopped by security.
Since it was still early, I went straight to my dorm, changed my clothes under my roommates' surprised looks, and walked into the classroom with a rumbling stomach and a huge stack of books. **********
...

Although the hillside was steep, the Tripitaka Master, having been a monk since childhood, had worked in the temple fetching water, chopping wood, sweeping, and helping in the kitchen since his youth. Later, he traveled the world, practicing Zen and worshipping Buddha, so he was naturally agile and quickly arrived at the valley.
The valley was overgrown with weeds and teeming with insects and snakes. The Tripitaka Master parted the weeds and was greatly surprised to see the person who had called for his help.
The person in the weeds was also sizing up the Tripitaka Master: a dark-skinned young monk, his gray robe torn in several places and studded with withered grass, appearing somewhat destitute, but his expression was resolute, and his every move exuded an extraordinary air, quite different from ordinary monks.
What came into the Tripitaka Master's view was a lonely, pitiful little girl kneeling on the ground amidst the weeds. She looked to be no more than ten years old. Not only was she naked, but she was also shackled with thick iron chains. Her hands and feet were bound behind her back, and a large iron pillar protruded from the ground and pierced between her buttocks, rendering her unable to move.
The Tripitaka Master silently chanted Buddhist mantras, thinking angrily, "What kind of evil person would torture someone like this?"
Seeing the elder approaching, the little girl exclaimed joyfully, "Master, why did you only come now? Quickly save me, and I'll guarantee you a journey to the Western Paradise!"
Although the Tripitaka Master was puzzled as to how such a pitiful girl knew he was going to the Western Paradise to obtain scriptures, he didn't dwell on it. He simply stepped forward, found some stones, and prepared to break the girl's shackles.
The young girl said, "Master, these iron shackles are made of the finest cold iron from the North Sea. Ordinary axes and chisels can hardly move them. I'm afraid you won't be able to break them!"
Seeing the girl's extraordinary knowledge and her composure despite her suffering, Sanzang admired her greatly. He couldn't bear to see her suffer and frowned, saying, "Young benefactor, please rest for a moment. I will go and gather some help. I will definitely rescue you!"
The girl replied, "Master, as long as you are willing to rescue me, I can get out. As long as..."
Sanzang blushed and shook his head repeatedly. But the girl pleaded repeatedly, and moreover, the area within a hundred miles was deserted. Finding help would be extremely difficult. If he left this girl alone here, and she were to be eaten by tigers, leopards, snakes, and insects, it would truly be his sin.
Thinking of this, the monk Sanzang could only nod. He reached into the girl's ear and felt around; sure enough, there was a thin needle. He held it in his hand, composed himself, and then gritted his teeth, inserted it into the girl's fair private parts between her legs.
The girl let out a soft moan and said in a coquettish voice, "Master, please go away so I can come out. I don't want to startle you."
Sanzang had already covered his face with his sleeve and retreated to a distance.
The young girl thought to herself, "This stinky monk really hasn't been near a woman. I told him to insert the golden needle into my vagina, and not only did he not understand, but after explaining for so long, he still inserted it wrong! This time it's really inserted into my urinary tract... Ugh! Oh well, as long as this treasure is inside me, I can get away!"
With that thought, she whispered, "Big!"
The thin needle flicked and turned into an iron rod as thick as a wine glass.
The little girl had never had such a thick thing inserted into her urethra before, and she immediately screamed, her face turned pale, and sweat beaded on her forehead. But after the wave of pain surged over her head, a wave of masochistic pleasure arrived as expected. The little girl's scream turned into a soft moan, and she whispered again, "Vibrate! Turn!" Not long after, she said, "Stronger! Bigger!" and so on. Accompanied by the girl's screams and cries, the sound rang out from the bushes until a mournful cry soared high into the sky, and then a little girl slowly crawled out of the bushes.
Her thin face was covered in sweat-drenched hair. Before Sanzang could help her up, she kowtowed and said, "Thank you for saving me, Master!"
Sanzang took off his clothes and draped them over her shoulders before asking her questions.
It turned out that the little girl was originally a spirit born from nature, who had cultivated herself into a demon. She was highly skilled but also audacious and reckless. Later, she was punished by the Heavenly Court and not only was she turned into a child, but she also suffered torture and abuse.
The girl sighed softly, "After being tormented like this for five hundred years, I've grown accustomed to my female form. In fact, I can't eat or sleep without some cruelty! I promised to help my master on his journey to the West to retrieve the scriptures, and in return, I'd regain my true form. But now I have no such wish. It's just that this desolate wilderness is so boring, so I'm accompanying my master on this journey, carefully serving him along the way. I only ask that my master punish me whenever he has nothing to do!"
The little girl's eyes were filled with tears, her expression pleading and pitiful. The monk Sanzang sighed, "I will treat you kindly. How could I punish you without cause?"
Seeing that Sanzang hadn't refused, the little girl immediately became happy and smiled, "Master,
please give me a name!" "Call me Master! " "
Please, Master, bestow upon me a name!"
"..."
"I already have a Dharma name, Kong'er."
"..."
"Master, wait for me!" ********** ...
(II)
I love Beijing, I've loved it since I was a child. As a kid, I loved Tiananmen Square.
Later, when I actually came here, I sat there all day, staring intently at Tiananmen Square, until the police came and asked if I had any business—"Relax, relax… I'm just an innocent mistress!" I love the atmosphere of Beijing, I love the people here, I love a city where I can see 300 concerts, dance dramas, operas, and concerts a year.
I hate my hometown; the people there love to deceive, and some even seem proud of it, which is annoying. But I don't like the many foreigners in Beijing, and I don't like Beijingers calling everyone "foreigner." I never use that word because it always carries a hint of envy and jealousy. Foreigners are foreigners, after all! I hate the way foreigners look at me. Am I paranoid? I can always find a hint of selection in their eyes, as if I'd beg them to come running.
But the men I see in clubs have the same look in their eyes, and I really do—if my dad beckons, I'll go running. You could say I'm pathetic!
I love Beijing, but I can't settle down here. I've got my eye on an apartment between the East Third and East Fourth Ring Roads. The complex is beautiful, and the apartment itself is nice. I don't like big apartments, and the one I'm interested in is only 99 square meters, with two bedrooms, two living rooms, and two bathrooms—perfect for raising children or bringing my parents to retire.
But the price… I think someone like me, a typical college student, shouldn't even dream of living in Beijing. I should just roll back to my hometown. Even if I really wanted to live in Beijing, I shouldn't be looking for an apartment within the Fifth Ring Road, I shouldn't be aiming for a two-bedroom, I shouldn't be buying a new apartment. I should be choosing a 10-year-old, secondhand apartment somewhere in Beijing, a 60-square-meter apartment, and then thank the landlord for being kind enough not to raise the price or sell it to someone else while I was raising the money.
I like to overthink things. Like right now, I just finished class and was about to grab a bite when a man in black pulled me into his car at the door. Only then did I realize I'd achieved the ultimate dream for many girls—being kept! Was it because of my excellent performance last night, or did Dad think I was young, juicy, and delicious, and although my breasts were a little small, I still had a lot of potential?
But seriously, he didn't even ask for my opinion! Whether it was deflowering me last night or wanting to take me in today, he just informed me directly. Although I had no reason to refuse since I was kneeling next to the sofa at the club, Dad, you could at least have come out and said a few words to me! Sending a middle-aged man in black to pick me up like this—if I hadn't remembered the license plate, I would have thought it was a kidnapping!
I sat in the back seat, with a small LV handbag on the seat next to me. The man in black said it was a gift from Dad, and that Dad had already returned to Shanghai this morning. Returned to Shanghai, not going to Shanghai, meaning Dad isn't from Beijing, which means he won't stay in Beijing forever. So, I'm quite free?
But when I opened the handbag and saw the crisp stacks of RMB inside, I realized, "He who eats another's food is bound to him; he who takes another's gift is bound to him"—the ancients were right! Holding this heavy little handbag, that strange feeling made me realize I wasn't free. I had to be there anytime, anywhere, whenever my father ordered me to, and I had to be naked at any moment. I was nothing more than a plaything!
Now I understand why rich people like to keep young girls as mistresses. You have money to keep cats and dogs to play with, but what's better than keeping a living person as a plaything? Not only can they cry and laugh, accompany you to the halls of society, and go on trips with you, they can relieve your boredom and let you vent your frustrations, but they also have bright eyes and white teeth, all kinds of figures, mature women and cute girls, arrogant and energetic girls—you can choose them all, and not only are they guaranteed in quality, but also in quantity!
You don't want to be a sugar daddy, but there's a long line of people willing to be. Single-parent families, laid-off workers, the poor, the sick—there are plenty of daughters from such families, and they're willing to do anything, to fulfill any request from these perverted older men. So, holding the money, pouting, and sighing, I, a girl with nothing special about me but youth, had to be careful serving a big client like my dad…
The man in black took me to dinner, then dropped me off at the school gate and drove off. As I stepped out of the luxury car with my LV handbag and walked into the campus, it felt like I had a sign on my head saying I was
a sugar daddy, making me want to die. Luckily, I was a freshman, and almost no one knew me. I quickly made my way into the dorm. The good thing about the dorm was that it was often empty. My two Beijing roommates went home every day, leaving only a busty, bespectacled girl who loved spending time in the library, so I was often alone.
I lay in bed for a while, checked the time, and then made a decision—instead of going to Zhongguancun to buy an Apple laptop, I'd take my books to class. While a mistress may earn a lot, her relationship with someone else might not last. I'm not foolish enough to think I can be made a wife and marry into a wealthy family. So, while a university degree may be cheap, it's something I can use for a lifetime. This was my plan from the beginning, and now I'm implementing it.
Sitting in the classroom, I overestimated my mental fortitude. The multiple changes in my identity these past few days have made it impossible for me to hear what the teacher is saying. Bored, I can only stare at my roommate's large breasts. Damn, even if she's a year or two older than me, I estimate my breasts won't grow that big even in five years. I pessimistically think my breasts will only hover between an A and a B cup, so I stare even more intently at the bespectacled girl's large breasts, from the classroom all the way to the cafeteria, then the library, and finally back in the dorm. I vent all my resentment about having small breasts on the bespectacled girl's large breasts.
But unexpectedly, just as I finished washing up and was about to stare a little longer before going to sleep, the bespectacled girl suddenly whispered in my ear, "If you like, you can touch them!"
Huh? I turned around and saw the girl with glasses, a little surprised, but she had a "since you're begging me, I'll reluctantly agree" look on her face. Did she misunderstand? I was just resentful, I didn't have any lesbian tendencies! But looking at her big breasts, I really wanted to verify—they're so big, did you get implants? So
… the girl with glasses cooperated by unhooking her bra, and I smiled wickedly and hugged her from behind, my hand easily slipping into her breasts… It's simply unfair! Big is one thing, but they're also so bouncy, and the girl with glasses has incredibly good skin, like the skin that solidifies on milk, so soft and smooth, even I, as a girl, can't resist touching it! The feeling of my fingertips gliding across her skin was intoxicating. Damn, I finally know why girls like lesbians, I immediately want to use my whole body to feel the softness and smoothness of her skin.
So… we curled up in my blanket, I wrapped myself around the girl with glasses like an octopus, rubbing against her happily, so smooth, so soft! After playing for a while, the girl with glasses, this "true lesbian," couldn't stand the intimacy and begged me to comfort her. Seeing her pitiful look, I agreed.
So... like a fish swimming, I nimbly turned and swung my tail on her body, completing a 180° rotation on the small bed without getting up, and disappeared deep into the blankets. I swam between her legs, but before I could even decide whether to actually comfort her, I was hit with another blow—this girl was still a little white tiger! The skin between her legs was just as soft and smooth, like a child's. I was jealous—she really had a beautiful body from head to toe!
I simply rested my head on her smooth mons pubis, preparing to feel it with my cheek. But the girl with glasses moved in one step, wrapping her arms around my waist, her tongue skillfully and deftly sweeping across my clitoris, then sucking it tightly. I tensed up like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on. Although I often rubbed it with my fingers when masturbating, this was completely different from being sucked by a woman's mouth!
I covered my mouth to stop myself from screaming, then prepared to retaliate. The little white tiger was indeed delicious and juicy; her already slippery skin was even more slippery with her wet lower body. It took me a lot of effort to pry open the skin on her clitoris with my fingers. I grinned wickedly and pressed my lips to hers. Mmm… the taste was wonderful, and the feel was even better. I could feel the bespectacled girl's legs clenching tightly, but my head was in between, so her efforts were futile. Let me taste her!
But I severely underestimated the bespectacled girl's lesbian prowess. My feeble licking only gave her pleasure, while I myself was nearly brought to incontinence by her. If I weren't afraid of being heard by everyone in the building, I would have screamed already. In the end, my poor sheets were half wet, mostly with my own fluids! As the bespectacled girl, looking completely satisfied, climbed off me to wash up, I immediately fell asleep, utterly exhausted. Before falling asleep, only one thought crossed my mind: "Women really understand women's bodies best!"
In the morning, I sat on my bed with a bitter face. First, my dad deflowered me, and then my dorm's lesbian friend, seemingly unaware of my true nature, shoved me. These past two days have been quite eventful! Looking at the time, it was almost ten o'clock, just like last time. Do I always wake up at this time after being violated? Can't I even sleep a little longer? My life is so miserable! The girl with glasses seems to have run off a while ago, probably to the library again. That's fine, since no one's in the dorm, I can check my price. Five bundles, 10,000 each, which means I'm worth 50,000. That bag is probably worth 10,000 too. Dad's really generous...
According to the man in black, this is my meeting gift and living expenses for the next two months. So, roughly speaking, I'm worth about 100,000 a year, enough to buy about 5 square meters of housing. The house I want is at least 80 square meters, so even if I'm kept by someone, it would take 16 years without eating or drinking, assuming the price doesn't go up! Looking in the mirror, I don't think Dad would support me that long. Is Beijing really not the place for me?
Okay, okay, Dad seems to be rich and powerful. If I'm careful, maybe he'll buy it for me sometime. Damn, am I daydreaming? Or do I just not understand the rules and inside stories of being kept? Anyway, Dad's not here now, so I can't think of anything.
So... I saved the money and continued my daily life of going to and from school. It seemed that my previous work as a hostess at the club and my subsequent relationship with a sugar daddy had all disappeared, leaving only an ordinary student.
When I woke up in the morning, the three empty beds in the dormitory made it feel like summer vacation. But I didn't get up late today, and the big-breasted bespectacled girl hadn't left early either. The reason the three beds were empty was because I had been sleeping in her bed every day since last time. Although it was a bit crowded, wasn't it better to be more crowded? -- Now, the bespectacled girl's smooth skin was the only comfort in my life. Today was the weekend, and the bespectacled girl didn't seem to have any intention of getting up, but I had to get up. So, I got out of bed naked to wash up. I had to get to the airport before 10 o'clock -- Dad was coming to Beijing today!
(III)
I looked up at myself in the mirror in the washroom. My hair was fluffy, and I was still a little sleepy. Although I wasn't wearing makeup, my pretty face, which I could still be a little narcissistic about, was completely student-like. I guess I'd call myself lucky. I was kept by my father less than a month after I started working as a hostess, so I didn't have a trace of the "street life" associated with it.
Similarly, I have almost zero alcohol tolerance, don't smoke or gamble, and hadn't made any female companions in my previous hostess circle. Therefore, I lack the common sense of being a mistress, and I can't further enter the so-called "mistress circle," which leaves me feeling somewhat lost, relying solely on my instincts.
For example, today, the driver, a middle-aged man in black, only told me that my father would be arriving in Beijing at 10 am. The gist of it was that I should wash up, shave my body hair, and if I had a boyfriend secretly, I should deal with it to avoid him getting in the way. Yeah, that's roughly what he meant. He didn't mention picking me up at the airport. But I still really want to go to the airport, and I don't know why—to please? To show respect? Or…
gratitude? I don't know what it is, but I just really want to do something for my father, besides using my body.
Sigh, I still have many troubles to deal with right now. I have very little body hair, so my legs and forearms are smooth, and my pubic area only has a few sparse hairs. But a few days ago, that awful girl with glasses insisted that girls should have smooth, white hair, and she shaved all my pubic hair off, clearly just for her own convenience. Now I'm a little white tiger. I just secretly shaved it again in the bathroom, but I don't know if my dad will like it. Ugh, what a hassle. After
washing up in the bathroom, I went back to my dorm and started worrying again. I don't have any clothes suitable for this occasion. My clothes are all too student-like, and since I look small, sometimes people at school mistake me for a middle school student on a visit. It's not that I don't want to buy clothes, but buying clothes is purely a social activity for girls. Girls only go shopping alone when they're feeling down. But right now, I can't find anyone to go shopping with. Besides, the only hobby that girl with glasses has is spending time in the library. Besides, I can't tell her that I'm being kept by a man.
The bigger problem was that I was completely unfamiliar with Beijing and had no idea where to buy suitable clothes. The only shopping places I knew were Wangfujing and Xiushui Street, but those two seemed somewhat out of place for my needs. In short, I had no choice but to go to the airport in my school uniform; maybe Dad would like that style.
I was gesturing wildly in front of the mirror in my dorm room when my cat finally woke up, poking her head out from under the covers and asking, "An'an, where are you going so early?" (My name is Xia An'an, and my cat's name is Qiu Aiyang. We're like the lily song, one like "summer," the other like "autumn.")
"Me…" I really hadn't figured out how to tell Qiu Qiu, so I just casually replied, "I'm going to the airport to pick up a classmate!"
Qiu Qiu continued, "A boy?"
"A girl!" I answered. "Introduce her to me!" Qiu Qiu's eyes shone with a strange light. "What? You want to expand your harem again!"
"Oh, is An'an jealous?"
"Hmph, just wait till I get my hands on you!" I took the opportunity to give the girl with glasses a good rub on her smooth, silky body before finally getting the little cat back to her bed and quieting her down. I was finally out of school. Beijing's traffic jams are notorious, but thankfully the subway system is fairly well-developed for the country. The subway station was near the school, and after a few stops, I could transfer to the light rail and head straight to the airport.
Perhaps because of the time constraints, the subway wasn't crowded, so I sat down and looked around—looking at handsome guys! I have to say, Beijing truly is the center; the nation's elite gather here. Even in our school, there's everything from promising young men to dashing playboys—it's dazzling. But rather than risk trying to capture the restless heart of a young man, a clear and simple deal with a middle-aged man is more suitable for a naive me.
I was gazing out the window, lost in thought, when suddenly someone called my name, "Xia An'an!"
I looked up and saw a "familiar face"—a boy from my class. We hadn't spoken much, but we were "familiar" because in just over a month since school started, I'd already heard he'd had four girlfriends; he was a typical playboy.
But being a playboy isn't something you can just become. This guy's name was Jiang Dongzhi. Well, he had basically all the qualities that attract girls: good looks, great physique, the handsome and sunny type. His hobbies included being a member of the school basketball team and band, and supposedly, he came from a wealthy or powerful family.
Oh, right, he had one less hobby: flirting with girls—a real womanizer. Even though everyone knew he was a playboy, girls still flocked to him, which Qiuqiu resented. While I didn't have any negative feelings towards him, I was wise enough to keep my distance. And then, unexpectedly,
I ran into him on the light rail today. Since we were classmates, I reluctantly greeted him and then prepared to continue admiring the scenery. Unexpectedly, he sat down right next to me. A world-famous but unknown perfume mingled with his masculine scent, wafting from him—a pleasant aroma, yet it made me feel a little awkward. I shifted slightly to the side, but he remained seated, which slightly improved my impression of him.
Then he started asking questions, seemingly intending to chat indefinitely. I, however, tried to respond politely, hoping to reach the airport quickly. Thankfully, the light rail arrived at the Capital Airport soon. I made an excuse about running out of time and ran off, only to hear him call out behind me with a laugh, "See you later!"
"I don't want to see you later!" I thought to myself as I searched for the pick-up point.
The Capital Airport is huge, and there are so many people… I wandered around for ages before finally finding the arrival gate, but as soon as I sat down, I heard someone say in my ear, “‘A little while’ is pretty quick!”
I jumped up like a startled cat, turned around, and saw Jiang Dongzhi standing behind me, smiling at me. I blushed a little and said, “What are you doing here?”
“This is the arrival gate. You’re here to pick someone up, of course I’m here!”
“…Huh? What do you mean, of course I’m here! I’m asking you, what are you doing here?” This guy was clearly teasing me. I asked angrily, but he avoided answering and started talking about school, clearly trying to change the subject.
But he was incredibly eloquent, and he steered the conversation to other topics after only a few sentences. It took me a while to realize what was going on, and in a fit of anger, I blurted out, "Are you trying to woo me?"
He hadn't expected me to be so direct. He paused for a moment, then laughed and said, "You can think that way!
" I retorted, annoyed, "Do you know who I'm here to pick up today?"
"No…" I took a breath and said, "I'm here to pick up my sugar daddy!"
"Sugar daddy?"
"Yes, the one who's supporting me!" I looked at him defiantly. He froze, staring at me for a moment, then… burst into laughter, almost bending over with mirth. “Haha, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of a girl rejecting a suitor like that! What are you thinking with that little head of yours!” He tried to touch my head, but I dodged him. I stood up, hands on my hips, but could only look at his collarbone. I looked up at him and said, “You don’t believe me?”
He suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist and said, “How much do you want for me to be your sugar daddy? I’ll pay double!”
I yelled and jumped out of his arms, angrily… "What are you doing!"
He looked completely innocent and said, "Nothing! Just wanted to talk about the price of being kept!"
Amidst the stares and whispers around me, I ran away again as fast as I could, Jiang Dongzhi muttering, "Next time, think of a better excuse!"
I circled around twice, finding a secluded spot to wait for my father's arrival, but to my dismay, despite watching every person exiting the station, there was no sign of him. I waited until an hour after the plane landed before finally boarding the light rail, feeling utterly lost. On the train, I secretly texted the driver, only to be told, "The boss uses the VIP lane." Dejected,
I returned to my dorm and collapsed onto my bed, feeling utterly lost. Qiuqiu wasn't in the dorm; she was probably at the library. I lay on the bed listlessly for a while when my phone rang. It was the driver calling, and the message was simple: "Pick me up in ten minutes." So urgent? I thought to myself, "Dad just got off the plane; doesn't he need to rest?" But I had no choice; I could only quickly pack my things and run downstairs.
Opening the car door, I discovered my father was already inside.
"Dad!" I greeted him softly, eliciting a chuckle from the driver.
My father laughed too, then gestured for me to sit down, saying, "Call me whatever you like; I'm almost as old as your father anyway!"
I obediently climbed into the car, sitting a little awkwardly next to him, biting my lip as I asked, "Dad, are you tired from the plane ride?"
My father seemed to understand my unspoken question, smiling, "Come with me to get something to eat later, then I have a meeting tonight. I'll come see you again tomorrow."
"Oh…" I hadn't eaten breakfast at the airport, and now I was indeed quite hungry.
My father patted my head, saying, "It's all old guys at night. Hanging out with them all day makes your brain stiff. Talk to me, it'll make me feel younger!"
"Dad is still young!" I couldn't tell my father's age at all, and after talking to him twice in one night, he really seemed young, both inside and out!
Dad laughed, then shook his head and said, "I'm not young anymore. I can't understand the thoughts of young people like you!"
My thoughts? What thoughts? I looked at Dad strangely, but he said, "I heard you've been studying hard at school lately, not going out to play, and not spending the money I give you. I just can't understand that!" I froze. My every move had been observed by Dad.
Dad shook his head and said, "I'm getting old, so I have to be careful, so..." He pointed to the driver, "Old Li is very familiar with people at your school, so he inquired about you..." The so-called inquiry was actually about my every move, "...but your behavior has made me very curious, so tell me, why did you do that?"
"I..." I didn't know what to say for a moment. "You're with me, isn't it for the money?" Dad continued to ask. I bit my lip and lowered my head, saying, "Yes..."
"Then why don't you spend it?"
"Because...because I want to save it...I...I want to buy a house in Beijing."
My father looked at me with some surprise, then asked in a strange tone, "Don't you know that if you please me, I'll naturally buy it for you?"
What? I was stunned. Me... am I worth that much money?
Then, for some reason, Dad suddenly became interested in my body. After eating a little something, I followed Dad to the main house. While I was taking a shower, Dad was resting on the sofa, and the driver was making Kung Fu tea. "Old Li, what do you think?" Dad suddenly asked. The driver gave a somewhat simple smile: "An'an is a good girl!"
"Pure-hearted?" Dad laughed, "Actually, she's probably a bit silly..." The driver replied, "Silliness is purity!" Dad suddenly said, "In a few days, let An'an choose one of the apartments I reserved in the last development, and then transfer the ownership to her! I want to see if she's really silly, or just pretending!" "
What if she's really silly?" the driver asked.
Dad chuckled as he sipped his tea, "Wouldn't it be interesting to let such a pure girl slowly fall into depravity in my hands?"
(IV)
There's a saying that goes something like, "Behind every woman you admire, there's a man who's fucked her to the point of being tired of it." It's a rather crude statement, but it vividly illustrates the awkward situation women face.
For example, right now, because I've recently been receiving training from an adult on the forum, instead of sleeping at night, I secretly hide in my room, naked, and urinate in the small basin I usually use to wash my private parts. I even lie on the ground like a dog, burying my head in the basin, letting the warm urine soak my cheeks, experiencing the feeling of suffocating in my own urine. I repeat this three times, and then drink the already cold urine mouthful by mouthful.
This is just one of the tasks. After I lick the remaining urine from my lips, still in that lowly, dog-like position, I slowly insert my fingers into my anus.
This is also my daily homework—besides drinking my own urine, I also have to insert my fingers into my anus for three minutes so that I can easily and quickly swallow and spit out even thicker things through my anus in the future!
And my last task is to try to eat the feces I just excreted! I begged for mercy from Lord S because I really wasn't ready to actually eat my own feces. Although I once held the feces I excreted on the bathroom floor tiles in my mouth and slowly smeared it all over my body, and although I once lay on the ground like a dog in a public restroom and licked the feces left in the toilet bowl by some unknown person, I still didn't have the courage to actually eat it!
Although I know that sooner or later I will eat my own or a stranger's feces, because I know that my essence is a slutty bitch, and the lowest kind, a toilet bowl for my master, a toilet slave, and I am willing to be a bitch, a toilet bowl, a toilet slave.
In my imagination, the first time I ate feces would be on a weekend, locked in the bathroom of a budget hotel room. Starting in the morning, I'd wear a blindfold, clothespins clipped to my nipples, and a large, vibrating dildo inserted into my anus. Then I'd crawl on the floor, practice oral sex and deep throat with the dildo, drink my own urine, and watch my own collection of perverted videos and pictures.
In this way, I'd control my masturbation urges with a chastity belt while simultaneously accumulating my perverted desires through various methods, constantly approaching and remaining in a submissive state, before finally relieving myself and slowly consuming it.
I'd type out my perverted plan word by word on my phone in bed, very slowly, because I'd use only one hand. My thumb and middle finger from the other hand are still inserted in my vagina and anus, respectively. I don't know when I'll reach 3,000 words, and I don't know if posting this report, which should have been sent to Master S tomorrow, on the forum will anger him! But some feelings just need to be expressed! Having finished explaining the training content I completed, I guess that's a reason to post it in the original content section. Otherwise, if it's all just my own rambling, the moderators will probably delete the post...
Hmm, so, let's go back to the initial statement: "Behind every woman you admire, there's a man who's had enough of fucking her." And the awkward situation women face.
From childhood, although parents don't intentionally provide sex education, and elementary and middle school health textbooks are vague, every girl naturally pays attention to her words and actions. From elementary school onwards, the top button of her shirt is always fastened tightly, and when squatting, she carefully tucks her skirt between her legs, and she doesn't dare touch boys, and so on.
From childhood, she guards the so-called pure image of a girl, but what is the purpose of all this carefulness? Is it so that one day, she can strip naked, kneel on the bed, stick her butt out, and be brutally penetrated by a man using his urinary penis? Where has all the shyness accumulated over twenty years gone?
I think 99% of women, regardless of their background, have experienced rear-entry penetration at some point!
Although the man also exposes his body to you, the difference between standing with your legs spread by the bed and lying on all fours like a dog with your buttocks sticking out is like night and day!
And everyone knows—the person you rode the bus with in the morning knows, the KFC breakfast vendor knows, the security guard at your workplace knows, the young man next door who just graduated knows, the uncle at the table across from you knows—they all know, they all know you'll be in this servile position tonight, waiting for a man to have sex with you! And you have to continue to pay attention to the height of your collar, to the details when wearing a skirt, you have to speak softly, have bright eyes, be reserved, be subtle, maintain a ladylike image, even though everyone knows you'll do something completely unladylike.
If the man on top, the woman on the bottom, the tight embrace represents the union of body and soul, then whether you're licking the man's genitals or having your buttocks sticking out as he penetrates you, it's all a manifestation of a woman's bitch-like nature! But, do women have any other choice?
And me? Twenty years ago, I cuddled a stuffed animal, nestled between my father and mother, my sister and I mimicking the adults applying makeup. Clumsily, I practiced the new tricks I'd just learned, holding up a rubber band at home. Ten years ago, I buried myself in countless papers and assignments, listening with a touch of admiration to my math-savvy classmate explaining word problems, scolded by the teacher for not wearing too many hair clips or hair ornaments. Just now, I drank my own urine, and because of it, I fantasized about being humiliated and tortured by men.
And what about ten years from now? Will I be lying naked in a filthy toilet, mouth open, a man's toilet bowl? Or will I be performing in front of five or six men, thrusting a Coke bottle into my anus? I can't imagine it, just as I couldn't imagine ten years ago that I would now be so willing and eager to drink my own urine. Life is always unpredictable, and what is its meaning?
My job is nothing more than a wage earner, just trying to make a living. At work, I'm constantly running errands, dealing with phones, printers, computers, and stairwells. At home, I watch TV to kill time, and year after year passes like this. I've been working for several years now, but all I've done is use my precious life to create a meager amount of value for my boss. I used to pin my hopes on love, on being a good wife and mother, watching my husband's smile every day and my children grow up. But recently, I was dealt a blow by Mr. S.
It seems I was too idealistic, but actually, it's because I always wanted to find some meaning or purpose in my life. Since I don't have a career, I can only yearn for love.
For the past twenty-odd years, I've spent most of my time studying, which earned me the qualification to run errands. The privacy and purity of my body that I've always cherished are now just a joke. Those days have probably been wasted! And the days to come will probably be no different. Men cheating is nothing new; philandering seems commonplace. I'll probably get tired of my wife's body soon enough. In the not-too-distant future, I'll probably be just another lonely housewife!
I admire Wu Yi. At least she never married and protected her sacred body as a girl since childhood. It was never touched by a man, so she probably doesn't have the same troubles as me.
Furthermore, if I have a daughter in the future, watching her grow up in my arms, from an infant to a little girl, then to a teenager, watching her laugh, cry, and bravely strive to grow into adulthood, and then… be fucked by a man? Is my daughter, whom I endured so much pain to give birth to and carefully nurtured, only to be humiliated like that by a man?
I don't know, just as I can't imagine my parents, resting in the bedroom across the hall, knowing that I was being trained by Master S and obediently drinking my own urine and probing my own anus with my fingers, I can't imagine it. Therefore, I don't know how to face the reality of my daughter being fucked by a man. And, with the blood of a bitch flowing in my veins, will that be passed on to my daughter? Will she, like me, indulge in the desire for endless humiliation, finding pleasure only through torture like a drug addiction? Looking at the headlines in the picture section, such as "16-year-old sex slaves," I feel a chill run down my spine!
I've been rambling on, but what I really felt was how pitiful women are. The things they carefully guarded as children, twenty years of reserve and shyness, are easily stripped away in an instant, and afterwards, they become increasingly worthless. Like I wrote in "The Days of Being a kept woman," it's all going to be a freebie for some college guy anyway. Rather than being used for four years and then breaking up, it's better to sell for a good price—at least then, they're worth something!
Later, like now, I'll probably be paid by oral sex, full service, or overnight! If I'm not a celebrity and not particularly attractive, a twenty-six-year-old woman is just street merchandise! Finding a good man to marry is probably the best outcome, then I start praying my husband will be faithful for a few more years, and that I can keep him around for a few more years—sounds bleak! But I doubt anyone will resonate with what I'm writing; there are mostly men here on the forum!
Okay, to thank everyone for reading my rambling, I'll paste some excerpts from "The Days of Being a Keeper" below—it'll also help reach the word count!
Previous summary: With the mindset that rather than being used for free by some guy in college for four years before being dumped, it's better to sell yourself for a good price, our classmate Xia An'an almost recklessly went to a nightclub to work as a hostess and, almost like winning the lottery, was taken in by a wealthy businessman. Thus began her unfamiliar yet colorful life as a kept woman.
I took a shower, wrapped myself tightly in a bathrobe, and quietly slipped into the bedroom. I took a few deep breaths, but my heart was still racing.
Although it wasn't my first time, I still felt nervous, even more so than before.
It felt like I wasn't my father's lover, but rather a novice prostitute on her first client, cautious, timid, and carefully smiling, as if afraid of offending an important customer. Perhaps I wasn't used to this role yet. The bedroom was empty. I sat somewhat awkwardly on the sofa, gently drying my hair with a towel, waiting for my father's arrival.
Click, the door opened, and my father strolled in leisurely, looked at me, and smiled. I stood up politely, smiling awkwardly, unsure what to say. My father seemed to understand my situation, smiling as he said, "Relax..." as he walked over, sat on the sofa, and waved for me to come over.
I obediently went to my father's side, and then, blushing, lifted the loose hem of my yukata as he requested, "Higher, um, higher!" Only after I awkwardly pulled the yukata up to my waist did my father sit on the sofa with satisfaction, looking at me with admiration. From my calves to my thighs, the width of my legs hadn't changed much; their slenderness always made me feel a little smug.
But from the base of my thighs, they suddenly became mature and full, the small mound between my legs round, full, and smooth, but its color was noticeably different from the surrounding fair skin. The slight discoloration made it even more eye-catching, and further down, two soft, wrinkled mounds... were getting a little moist.
I bit my lip, and for the first time, I felt lewd. Even though Dad hadn't done anything, just looked, I was actually aroused by shame… (＞?＜)…
My legs instinctively tightened, but Dad pried them open with his hands. His large, rough hands caressed my body, skillfully moving over my sensitive areas, from my clitoris to my nipples still hidden under my yukata. The constant stimulation made me instinctively writhe, but I dared not resist, only letting Dad play with me until I collapsed limply onto him. The
powerful masculine scent and perfume emanating from Dad assaulted my confused mind. His strong arms pressed my head between his legs, his erect penis slamming against my face, seemingly searching for an entrance.
I wisely opened my mouth, letting the salty penis push all the way to my throat. When I was in elementary school, I'd seen the little baby's penis next door and always thought it was small, white, and kind of funny. I never imagined back then that it would not only grow so big and thick, but that a girl would have to use her mouth to service it. I adjusted my position, kneeling between my father's legs. Following his instructions, I spread my legs, stuck out my buttocks, and pulled my bathrobe up to my waist, exposing my plump, white bottom. It felt warm and cozy in the sunlight.
My father enjoyed the soft warmth of my mouth while stroking my equally soft and moist private parts. After a while, my face was covered in his saliva, and my lower body was a complete mess. Sigh, it seems I lack experience and am too sensitive. At school, I was completely dominated by Xiao Qiu, and now I'm just as easily manipulated by my father. Yes, truly manipulated...
Soon, I was lying on the bed, barely able to breathe. But women are indeed a resilient species. In less than five minutes, awakened by my father's touch, I once again plunged into the pursuit of climax, only to be overwhelmed by a tsunami of pleasure. After
catching my breath, my body was awakened again by my father. To my surprise, even though I was exhausted just now, where did I find the strength to move my hips to match his thrusts?
Overwhelmed by pleasure, I began to consciously control the speed of my climax, hoping to savor that irresistible feeling a little longer. After several repetitions, I finally collapsed completely onto the bed, unable to move at all.
Finally, with my father's help, I opened my mouth wide and let him ejaculate directly inside. I twisted my body, not wanting to move at all, so I simply frowned and swallowed the astringent, fishy liquid in my mouth.

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Days of being kept

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