It can be considered a one-night stand.

"Should I take off my shoes?" Before entering, seeing him already lightly kick off his sandals and step barefoot onto her floor
, she asked with a slight hesitation.

"Then don't take them off." He understood her hesitation; many girls who are very conscious of their image have this kind of concern when visiting
someone else's home. To be honest, not to mention girls, even a grown man like him
would probably feel
awkward .

"Never mind, I'll take them off, so I don't leave footprints on your floor." She said understandingly,
though she still blushed slightly the moment she took off the first shoe.

He felt that she didn't need to be shy; who says that pretty women can't have slightly sweaty feet?
Besides, her feet didn't actually smell that strong. Of course, he couldn't say this entirely well-intentioned comfort
aloud, otherwise, she might burst out the door with a bright red face.

"Your place is quite charming, though things are a bit cluttered..." The first part wasn't entirely
polite. He was a designer, after all; if his own place was messy, he'd be
wasting his job.

He hadn't originally planned to suggest she come over, even though his wife happened to be in Guangzhou on a business trip. It still
wasn't a good place for them to commit a crime.

A hotel? That seemed too suspicious, and her place was too far, equally
implausible. Besides, her words implied a willingness or desire to visit his place.
Regardless there were deeper implications,
how many men would still feel guilty after a beautiful woman they'd fantasized about for years expressed such a sentiment?

In a different setting, the two who had been chatting quite animatedly needed to warm up again to get into a comfortable
conversation. Of course, adding a show-off of his home made things easier,
even though he always thought such presentations were boring. He tried to hide this feeling
to avoid making his tour seem clumsy.

In this situation, the master bedroom was naturally a somewhat ambiguous place.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second about whether to show her there, but since the master bedroom door wasn't closed, it
was only natural to go in and take a look. Besides, there was a large wedding photo of him and his wife above the bed,
usually one of the things guests loved to see in a house.

Surprisingly, after entering the master bedroom and absentmindedly complimenting him that "his wife is quite beautiful,"
she suddenly said something that immediately changed the previously lukewarm atmosphere.

"Let me guess how many times your wife has spanked you on this bed... 100 times?"
She suddenly turned around and looked directly at him.

This was the first time he had ever heard her say the words "spanking." Of course, she didn't know that just last night,
he had indeed been spanked by his wife, who was about to go on a business trip. But to him now, this
was nothing short of a blatant provocation. In a moment of impulse, before he could defend himself, his right arm had already pulled
her into his embrace and started kneading her. The speed of this series of actions surprised her slightly, but she didn't intend to
push him away. She just giggled and exclaimed, "Your conduct is really improper. You've been touching girls' butts for 5 years, and
you still haven't changed..."

Standing behind her, he had no time to answer. He even lifted her t-shirt and
kneaded . These mounds of flesh, slightly smaller than an ounce, had long been the object of his lust. Now that he
had them in his grasp, he was somewhat reluctant to immediately peel off the last layer of clothing covering them.

"If your wife finds out, she'll beat you so badly your bottom will be a bloody mess..." she
murmured .

He remained silent, continuing his passionate work on her upper body, and even took the opportunity to pull her t-shirt
off completely over her head. The t-shirt carried a faint scent of her perfume and an even fainter smell of sweat.
He secretly took a deep sniff and threw it on the bed. The mixed scent quickly aroused his lower body, pressing
against her round, full buttocks through two layers of cotton and two layers of denim. These were the
buttocks . Although he had almost become passive in front of his wife, now, facing her beautiful buttocks,
his desire to take the initiative swelled rapidly within him.

He turned to the side and pulled a bundle of cotton rope from the large wardrobe beside the bed. He had been bound and tortured countless times by his wife with this bundle
of rope but today he was finally going to turn the tables and take control. He unfurled the rope
and whispered in her ear, "You won't object if I tie you up, will you?" As he spoke, he
draped the middle of the rope behind her rounded neck.

"I wasn't wrong about you back then, you really are a rogue..." She wasn't particularly surprised, nor
did she object. Clearly, after the past two weeks of conversation, she was well-prepared for any possible scenarios when they
met .

Encouraged, he skillfully pulled the rope across her shoulders, through her armpits, and around her fair,
plump arms. He could even hear her extremely faint moans.

Next, he would tie her hands, knot them, and finally suspend her bound hands through the rope loop behind her neck and knot them again.
This completes the bondage. He had fantasized about this countless times, but now that he was actually doing it,
his hands were trembling. Even now, he still couldn't believe that he was about to complete
the bondage. It was like a beautiful dream. Just thinking about being able to do
whatever him almost unable to control his part, which had become harder than iron and stronger than steel.

But at this moment, the doorbell rang. For the couple in the house, this was obviously a sudden
and huge blow. He hesitated for a moment about whether to complete this dreamlike bondage, but she
obviously didn't dare to delay for a moment. Taking advantage of his loosening of his grip, she shook off the ropes binding her body and quickly
put on the t-shirt that had been taken off on the bed. Seeing her reaction, he had no choice but to quickly stuff the rope
back into the cabinet, pull her back to the living room, and wait until she was sitting upright on the sofa before opening the door.

...Thank goodness, it was just a delivery person! Finally, he had gotten rid of the uninvited guest in the entryway.
He let out a long sigh, carefully closed the door, and returned to the living room. She was sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed,
staring intently at him with her large eyes.

Seeing that expression, a chill ran through him. When a woman having an affair suddenly has such clear, unwavering eyes,
the situation usually becomes complicated; at the very least, a second round of "warming up" is inevitable.

Sigh, this unlucky delivery… He couldn't help but feel frustrated; his once-vigilant little brother had
somehow become limp.

To his surprise, she spoke up very readily: "Want to continue?"

"Even you're so agreeable, what else can I say?"

"Could we do it on the sofa? I feel too guilty on your bed…"

"Our house is at the end of the building; the bedroom is safer. The living room is next to another apartment's living room, and
I'm worried that if you moan—or rather, make noise on the sofa—it won't be good for the other people…"

"Bullshit! You're the one moaning…" She glared at him fiercely, but he had already picked her up and
carried her back to the master bedroom.

After placing her on the bed, he immediately opened the closet door and took out the bundle of rope again.

"You rascal, still want to tie me up? You're so persistent, I'm practically a female convict here..." she complained
, but she had already sat up on the bed, kicked off her slippers, leaving only black cotton socks on her feet. Then, she consciously
turned to face him sideways, putting her arms high behind her back and puffing out her small chest.

Her posture almost made his nose bleed immediately. He was about to swing the rope when he saw her lower
her arms .

"What's wrong?" He realized his voice sounded so impatient.

"Can we tie her up later? I'm suddenly a little scared again. You're already more than twice as strong as me,
and if you tie her up..."

His mood, which had just improved, began to resent the untimely delivery again. If it weren't for this unexpected turn of events, her
bottom would probably be as red as a ripe peach by now. But what could he say now? He
could only throw the rope on the bed. Since she wouldn't let him tie her up now, perhaps if they talked for a while longer, her interest would return,
or perhaps her guard would relax. He could only cling to this hope.

"Or... you could put the rope away. You probably won't need it today." Seeing that he
had compromised, she immediately pressed her advantage.

These words almost brought him to rock bottom. He had dreamed of seeing her bound hand and
foot , and just now, he was about to have his wish fulfilled. But in those three dark minutes, the situation had taken a sharp turn for the worse. Now she had actually
sentenced his dream to death. This was truly cruel. A woman's emotional changes were indeed a
natural phenomenon with no discernible pattern. He felt like Bayern Munich in the 1999 Champions League final, who had
almost touched the trophy, only
to be dragged down from the highest podium at the last moment by Sheringham and Solskjaer.

"Unless..." Almost dejected, he had just reached the cabinet when her tone suddenly changed.

"Unless what?" He felt like he'd grasped a lifeline and quickly
turned to . "Unless... unless I tie you up instead." Her beautiful eyes stared at him, and
she uttered this bombshell in an almost wicked tone.

The speaker may have been unintentional, but the listener was definitely affected. This bombshell, striking deep into his soul
, almost knocked him unconscious. He stared blankly for a long time before forcing himself to remain calm, saying, "How can that be... I'm a grown man...
"

"What's wrong with being a grown man? Don't tell me you've never been tied up by your wife, never been
spanked ..." Seeing that her casual remark, two-thirds of which was a tentative one, had elicited such a strong
reaction from him, her curiosity quickly swelled.

"Of course not, do I look like a man being bullied by his wife?" He realized the situation had suddenly become somewhat
unfavorable , and his face flushed red. Everyone encounters the situation of a cooked duck flying away
a few times , but now the situation is that this duck is going to turn around and devour him, the one who eats the duck, alive. This kind of
frustration is not something everyone can bear. "

There's no contradiction at all. Being tied up and spanked by your wife and being a coward are two completely different things. Do you agree now ?" As she continued to coax him, the bundle of rope he had been holding had unknowingly fallen into her hands. 　　With his tacit consent, she stripped off his t-shirt and then hugged him from behind. "Just to satisfy my curiosity," she whispered in his ear this time. Her warm breath tickled his ears and heart. Soon, his nipples were in her small hands, being played with she could let go at crucial moments . The intimate gestures his wife often made before binding him had basically dispelled his determination to resist. So when she confidently put the rope around his neck, all he could do was let the rope in her hands wrap tightly around his shoulders and arms. 　　Of course, overall, her movements were still a bit clumsy, but considering this might be her first time being bound, her performance was quite good. Besides, attitude is everything; her meticulousness made the ropes binding him very secure and in place. This tight restraint made him think breaking free before the binding was finished, but at that moment, she tightly tightened a horizontal rope across his already erect nipple, completely shattering his last line of defense. Two minutes later, he finally succumbed to her, becoming the kind of thing he had originally intended to turn her into—a large, fleshy dumpling. 　　The moment she tied the last knot, he was startled. How similar this was to his wife's first conquest of him! How had he fallen into the same predicament with this dream girl? Was he destined to be controlled by the women he loved? 　　[Full Text] After completing the bondage mission, she sat back on the bed, but her smugness wasn't outwardly apparent. In fact , her face showed neither pride nor mockery. She simply looked him up and down with curious eyes, like a little girl examining a strange toy, so innocent that he wondered if she was performing performance art. 　　At certain times and in certain situations, a woman's innocent gaze is far more lethal than a seductive one, especially when...

Based on his understanding of her, he was certain that the look in her eyes was genuine, but he couldn't
fully comprehend it, or rather, he couldn't understand why the girl who had been so proactive just moments before had become so quiet and withdrawn
after , like a complete stranger.

Regardless, under the scrutiny of those two gazes, he felt increasingly ashamed, lowering his head in shame to bury his head in
the sand, his heart filled with a complex mix of emotions—if he had a hundred feelings, they were all the feelings of
shame under his superior's gaze.

Fortunately, she wouldn't remain innocent forever. Perhaps seeing his embarrassment, she understandingly broke the silence: "Being tied up means you can't do anything naughty. Is there anything you need me to do? Let me make it clear, I can't do
things like changing diapers or anything like that ; I don't have children yet..." 　　"What do you take me for?" he said, somewhat annoyed and embarrassed, then smiled shyly and said awkwardly, "I do have a request." 　　"Go ahead." 　　"Could I see your breasts? I mean, without a bra." 　　"I really underestimated you. Even tied up like this, you're still up to no good." 　　"You know, if it weren't for that delivery guy, I would have seen everything." Seeing that she wasn't surprised or furious, he continued, "We don't know if we'll ever meet again. You can't let me leave this world with a lifetime of regret, can you..." 　　"You're so mean..." She hesitated for a moment, "Really want to see? Okay, you can look, but you can't touch! Hehe, I forgot, you're tied up like a dumpling, you can't touch me even if you wanted to..." She took off her t-shirt, paused slightly, and finally decided to put her hands behind her back to unhook her bra. 　　This was one of the actions he most enjoyed seeing beautiful women do. Firstly, he liked the way she put her hands behind her back; secondly , and more importantly, this action allowed him to see the most visually appealing parts . This is similar to how students sometimes love the days leading up to a long holiday even more than the holiday itself. 　The worst part was that just as his heart was pounding in his chest, she stopped. "Um... I still feel a little embarrassed to take my clothes off in front of any man other than my husband..." 　　Hearing this, he knew what was going on. Sure enough, no matter how much he tried to persuade her, use sweet words, or even threats, she refused to reach behind her back to undo the small clasp. 　　Finally, he had to settle for second best and ask to see her bare feet. "What's so interesting about feet?" Her face flushed slightly. "You're not going to tell me you have a foot fetish, are you?" 　　"You can rest assured about that. The difference between me and a foot fetishist is even greater than the difference between a smoker and a drug addict ," he explained without a guilty conscience. "I'll only take a second look at a pair of feet if the following two conditions are met: 1. The owner of the feet is a young and beautiful woman; 2. The feet themselves must also be young and beautiful. Obviously, you can easily meet the first condition. As for the second condition, on the day you wore sandals, I took a look through your stockings and, considering the shape, skin color, and texture of your bare calves, I think the quality is basically guaranteed." " 　　You naughty boy, I knew back then that your eyes were never idle." Everyone loves to hear nice things, and she just hoped that her smile wouldn't seem too smug. 　　“Besides,” he continued, explaining his sound reasoning, “I really have no other choice now. Of all the parts of your body that aren’t exposed yet, only your feet aren’t considered sensitive areas. Since you’ve already refused to remove your bra, what other part of your body could I possibly expect to see more private than your breasts?” 　　“You’re such a hopeless scoundrel!” 　　Hearing this, he knew things were looking promising. Sure enough, she began to shyly and hesitantly take off her right black cotton sock. Halfway through, she hesitated again, only to meet his eager gaze embarrassed to change her mind halfway, she reluctantly removed both socks, revealing a pair of small, delicate feet, about size 35, with a perfect balance of bone and flesh. 　　This was a historic moment, as it was the first time in over five years of knowing her that he had seen her bare feet. But before he could get his fill of looking, the shy woman had already adopted a sitting posture similar to that of the Han people before the Wei and Jin dynasties, hiding them under her buttocks. This was the first time he had felt resentment towards the fullness of her hips. 　　Just as he was lamenting that his reading speed, though quick enough, wasn't quite up to par, she raised her right hand and ran it through her hair. This gesture, which she had never done in front of him today, revealed a short but rather . 　　She hadn't shaved her armpit hair! To be precise, she hadn't shaved it for at least the last 10 days. No wonder she had been avoiding raising her arms since they met . Such a beautiful woman had gone out without shaving her armpit hair— a strange excitement welled up in his heart. 　∩ Yes, then he thought: in this day and age, if a beautiful Shanghai girl or woman hadn't specifically shaved her armpit hair before meeting a man alone in a sleeveless dress, it usually meant that the man wasn't important to her. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. The warmth he had felt from her gentle yet forceful approach earlier had been greatly diminished. He reminded himself again: never be presumptuous . Others are just playing with you. Once they're done playing, the result will be that you go your separate ways. 　　"You didn't shave... didn't shave your armpits? I remember back then..." Despite knowing it was inappropriate to ask such a question, he couldn't help himself. 　　"Back then, I shaved them clean every day, so clean it was like they weren't even there, right? Now I'm married, a haggard housewife, so sometimes I'm too lazy to shave, and it was so cool the other day..." She interrupted to explain, then suddenly realized she didn't need to explain at all. "Why are you bringing this up with a girl? You're so annoying ..." She then tightened her arms and glared at him to make her stance clear. 　　"I've satisfied your curiosity, now shouldn't you completely satisfy my thirst for knowledge?" Since hiding her feet, which she disliked being exposed, her discomfort had almost vanished. 　　"You... what are you going to do..." He basically understood what she meant, but in this situation...

算１００% 明白，也只能揣着明白装糊涂。

“用屁股想想也知道，我想听听你的叫床声啊！绑都绑好了，你觉得我会放
过打你屁股的机会吗？”其实说出这句话，她也是鼓起了勇气的，但是她相信，
她不会遇到真正的阻力。即使思想准备再充分，这句话对他来说也还是有极大杀
伤力的，比刚才那一句她要绑他的威力更胜几倍，他再次变得满脸通红，呼吸也
急促起来，甚至几乎要晕厥过去。“

我记得你给我看过的某篇英译佳作里有这么一句话：“男人总是在他淘气的
光屁股被揍得热腾腾之后，才会是个乖乖的好恋人'。 I plan to show this to my husband
, but the problem is he's far away, so I plan to test it on you first, even though you're not even
my lover, let alone my sweetheart… “

Being tied up by a woman is certainly humiliating, but compared to being spanked by her, that's
nothing . Of course, in the past two years, his fantasies about her have gradually shifted from purely masochistic to masochistic as the main
focus and feminine as a secondary focus, then to a mix of both, and finally to masochistic as a secondary focus and feminine as the main focus. And judging by the current
trend, it might even become purely feminine in the not-too-distant future.” (He was quite
chauvinistic very dissatisfied with himself, but some things are beyond his control.) Otherwise,
he wouldn't have unconsciously used her and his wife as models to write "Alternative XX." But now that she
was actually going to spank him, it was still hard for him to accept. After all,
every . Although perhaps in a woman's eyes, being spanked wouldn't necessarily
damage a man's image, it wasn't an easy hurdle for him to overcome.

"Come here, lie on my lap!" "

To be fair, he wasn't as adept at playing the leading role as his wife, which shouldn't have
made him so distraught. The problem was, the mystery surrounding her that had existed in his mind for years was now playing
a huge role. His legs started moving uncontrollably towards her, as if against his will.

Like lying on his wife's lap, he lay on her thighs. Physically, this feeling was
commonplace for him (although psychologically it was clearly not). To her, a 180cm/70kg..."
The weight of a grown man weighing around 100 pounds resting on her lap was clearly unprecedented for her.
Despite being mentally prepared, she still felt a little uncomfortable for a moment due to the weight.

Fortunately, she quickly adjusted. She composed herself, reached down to his abdomen to catch his belt buckle, and
pulled his jeans down to his knees, revealing his narrow yet
round and firm . After examining them for a while with a mixture of greed and shyness, she hooked two fingers of her right hand
around the elastic band at his waist. "No! Don't take off your underwear... don't..." He suddenly remembered something crucial.

It was too late; his still-swollen and red buttocks were already exposed to her.

"My God!" she exclaimed almost dramatically, "How come it's already so red and swollen before I even hit it? Who did this
?"

"Who else could it be?" "My wife..." He muttered these words in a low voice, his face flushed and filled with helplessness.
He secretly resented his wife for the unprecedented beating he'd received last night. Even with
his eloquence , he couldn't erase the impression in his dream girl's mind that he was frequently spanked by his wife.

"I knew you'd get a spanking," she said, not forgetting to kick him while he was down, "and you still won't admit it..."

Unexpectedly, yet predictably, after saying this, she seemed somewhat lost. After all,
this was the first time in her life she had the right to arbitrarily dispose of an adult man's buttocks.
She spoke enthusiastically, but inwardly she was unsure how to fully exercise this right.

After pondering for a while, she decided that delaying any longer wouldn't work, so she steeled herself and slapped him.

This long-awaited slap was somewhere between a hit and a grope. Although he expected her not to hit hard at first,
he was still slightly surprised. He couldn't even tell if she had started hitting him until her eighth slap
landed. Only then could he finally confirm that this was the level of force she dared to give him at this stage.

After 20 strikes, he still felt nothing, but she stopped and asked somewhat nervously, "Does it hurt?"

This was a difficult question to answer. If he told the whole truth, it would be tantamount to telling her he was asking for a beating
; if he exaggerated, it would seem unrealistic. Therefore, he could only vaguely reply, "It
hurts a little."

She was incredibly clever. Although it was her first time experiencing SP and she was quite reserved, she could easily detect
the evasiveness in his answer. She quickly deduced that she hadn't used enough force, so from the 21st strike
onwards, she noticeably increased the pressure, even though, in his eyes, it was still too light. The key issue was that
her swing frequency was too low, making it difficult to maintain continuity and thus approach his SP
tolerance threshold. Of course, he couldn't point this out to her. To avoid spoiling her mood, he even
considerately made occasional noises... A few low moans escaped his lips, though his acting skills in this area were
truly mediocre. And as the one initiating the session, it wasn't appropriate for her to frequently stop and demand passive evaluation of her work.
Therefore, their first spa session proceeded uneventfully in this slightly awkward atmosphere.

Even a steamed bun is still food, a village chief is still a cadre, and a virgin's initiative is still a spa session.
After about 100 strokes, the redness on his buttocks was at least slightly deeper than before the beating began. Finally seeing the results
of her work, she stopped and asked him on her lap, "Is it okay to stop here?" His

democratically charged request for her opinion left him somewhat amused and exasperated. She had taken the initiative, but she didn't know
when to stop; he couldn't very well tell her he wasn't quite done yet.

"It's up to you," he finally managed to say after a long pause.

A few minutes later, having put his pants back on, he stood before her, letting her
scrutinize him again with innocent and curious eyes.

"I still can't understand how anyone could enjoy this kind of activity." "She seemed to be asking him, but also
to herself, 'What pleasure can one derive from this?'"

"Untie me, my arms are numb." Seeing that she still showed no intention of untying him, he interrupted
her pleas, reluctantly demanding to avoid looking into her eyes.

"Untying me like this seems too easy on you, hmm, let me think..." she said with a half-smile.
"...How about this, you kneel down and lick my feet, and I'll untie you." Today, she always
caught him off guard at crucial moments.

She never expected that her half-hearted condition would immediately enrage him. He glared at her, his eyes
wide with fury : "What did you say? Say it again!"

"Tch! What are you so angry about? It's just kneeling down, isn't it?" She hadn't fully realized the seriousness of the situation.
"You get spanked by your wife every few days, you must have knelt on a washboard quite a bit too."

These words struck a nerve. Ever since his wife had developed a passive tendency, what he hated most was
people equating henpecked husbands with being afraid of their wives. He had often
argued with his close female friends about this issue, and even though she was his dream girl, she had no right to make such remarks in front of him.

"I'll say it one last time, I'm not afraid of my wife! Don't lump me in with you Shanghai men!"
Although he tried to lower his voice to avoid disturbing the neighbors, his tone was still
almost a roar. His face, which had been flushed with shame, was now clearly flushed with anger, and his
arms, tightly bound behind his back, began to struggle against the ropes.

"Are you angry? I didn't really want you to kneel, I was just kidding..." She was
startled angry? Please, please
don't be angry, okay?"

He was still furious and didn't answer her, just panting heavily, turning his head away, unwilling to look at her.

"Don't be angry! Okay, I was wrong, alright? Just pretend what I said earlier... just pretend I didn't say anything
..." She looked up at him, who was almost a head taller than her.

When he remained unmoved, her tone became almost pleading: "What do you want me to do to calm down? This is the first time I've ever been so humble..." He didn't entirely believe
her claim of "the first time I've been so humble," after all, he wasn't anyone to her, and she had no reason to make such a sacrifice for a man who wasn't even her lover. However, he was certain that in her twenty-odd years of life, she had probably never humbled herself like this to a man of her own generation more than ten times. Thinking of this, his anger finally subsided a little. 　　"Unless... you untie me and sleep with me..." As soon as the words left his mouth, he himself felt that this condition was somewhat shameless, but only if this condition was met could his anger hope to subside; and she saw a glimmer of hope. He was still furious, but being willing to make a condition meant that there was room for negotiation. 　　"This is putting me in a difficult position. I really don't want to do anything that would betray my husband." Her expression turned serious, meaning there was no room for negotiation on this issue. "Could you suggest another condition?" 　　"Fine, I'll compromise one more time, you breastfeed me..." he continued, unwilling to give up. "Stop bargaining with me." 　　"Bullshit! I haven't even given birth yet, where would I get milk to feed you?" Her face flushed slightly. 　　“You don’t necessarily have to get anything out of breastfeeding. I just want to suckle your nipples…” “Is that so? Since you don’t necessarily have to get anything out, let me suckle your breasts instead. It’s much more convenient that way, and the effect is the same anyway …” As she spoke, she actually stretched out her hands and, before he could object, raised , exposing them completely. Then, she used her thumbs and forefingers to rub, pinch, twist, and squeeze, repeatedly playing with his newly liberated nipples. Once he became erect, she immediately lowered her head and used her tongue and fingers to wantonly ravage those two sensitive spots on his chest. Her techniques were even more , leaving him completely unable to resist and quickly succumbing to her. 　　Just moments ago, he seemed to be taking the initiative, but suddenly, inexplicably, he found himself in a state of being ravaged again. It was an unexpected defeat, and what was worse, although being played with on his nipples was stimulating, the pleasure never reached its peak, and his desire burned ever brighter, unable to be completely quelled. 　　“You little wench, wait till I untie you, I’ll give you a good beating, fuck you raw…” He groaned, a mixture of anger, humiliation, and frustration, still burning with rage. 　　Similar harsh words were common during his wife’s binding and tormenting of him; it was his form of resistance , something his wife was used to. The problem was, this time the target was her, and to her, these words sounded particularly harsh. “I know what you need most,” her voice suddenly hardened. “Another good spanking will calm you down.” 　　“What did you say?” He nearly fainted from anger. 　　“Didn’t you hear me? I’ll repeat myself, I’m going to spank you again! That last one was clearly too lenient ,” she said, enunciating each word clearly. 　　"This is impossible! How dare you!" This time he was truly enraged. She was the one who had angered him, yet he was the one who ended getting spanked. Even though he was 100% passive, this was an absolutely unacceptable and humiliating warm, wet mass of fabric was tied behind his head. 　　"You like women's feet, so here you can have these stinky socks. They've been worn for two days anyway, they should be changed." 　Even his mouth was gagged with her socks—something his wife had only done once or twice when he was in a particularly . Now, he was furious, yet he was subjected to this treatment. His eyes practically spitting fire. He struggled with all his might, but this novice had tied him up very tightly; he couldn't budge an inch despite his efforts. 　　"Looks like you need even tighter bindings," she said, turning his shoulders and tightening the ropes binding him. This action almost made him beg for mercy if he could speak. But her torture wasn't over yet. She opened the cabinet where he kept the ropes. She had glimpsed more than one bundle of rope there sure enough, a bundle of cotton rope and a bundle of hemp rope lay quietly inside.

About 7-8 minutes later, the rope was tightly bound around his body. This time, she used extreme force,
binding him until he was teary-eyed. If his mouth hadn't been gagged so tightly, he might have burst into tears from this beautiful woman's
novice bondage. During the binding process, he had
the urge to kneel and beg for mercy more than once. Fortunately, the remaining male pride in his mind prevented him from doing so.

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