The Mysterious Gift, Author: Unknown

Word count: 12250

"Ding-dong," a crisp doorbell rang, waking me from my sleep.

"Who is it?

" "Excuse me, I'm here to greet you. This is a mystery gift from Dongli New Residence, part of your purchase of a villa from our company. Please check it." The person who rang the doorbell answered politely.

"Heh! Not bad! This real estate company is quite efficient." I muttered to myself as I put on my pajamas and opened the door.

It was a beautifully packaged box, about the height of a person, carried by two people. "What's this?"
I asked the deliveryman with a smile. "We're just delivering the gift to you. We don't really know what it is. You'll find out when you open it."

This was indeed quite mysterious. With curiosity, I saw the two deliverymen off and began unpacking the box layer by layer. I was stunned. The gift was a woman dressed as a bunny girl, severely bound by colorful ropes made of some indescribable material—and this woman was none other than the beautiful saleswoman who had helped me when I bought the house. I finally understood what she meant by "buy one get one free." This was truly fascinating. It was rare for a real estate company to understand my tastes so well.

The saleswoman in the box was about 1.7 meters tall, with skin like jade, a full figure, and an undeniably stunning physique. Her hands were bound in a backhand-like position with seven or eight colorful thin ropes, her ten fingers wrapped together with a thin, gelatinous substance. Four other thin ropes started at her elbows and shoulders, wrapping in a figure-eight pattern in front of her firm breasts, then tied to the other elbow and shoulder, ending at her wrists. Strangely, there were no knots, and the ropes adhered perfectly to her silky skin without any gaps. Her legs were also bound with about ten thin ropes of the same material, with some ropes crossing over each other and adorning the intersections with different colored sequins.
The rope around her ankles went all the way up to her feet, completely securing the woman's approximately seven-inch black high heels.

Two thin ropes also passed through her genitals, wrapped around her waist, and then ran upwards to her wrists, so that even the slightest movement of her wrists would tighten the ropes around her genitals. At this moment, the thin ropes around her genitals were completely soaked in the woman's vaginal fluid, glistening in the sunlight (damn, I'm getting a little excited just writing this).

The woman's eyes were unbound, but her mouth was sealed with something of the same material as the rope binding her fingers, and her mouth was stuffed full of something that looked like a rubber ball, decorated with colorful sequins. "Damn it, who tied her up like this? So creative! It seems there's a skill to be found in every profession; to tie someone up like this, it must be quite an art for this real estate company.

Because she couldn't speak, the woman's eyes kept blinking at me, as if she was trying to tell me something, or perhaps asking me to untie her. A woman's eyes really do speak volumes; I finally understand that today.
I couldn't wait to untie the ropes binding her mouth. Forget about art; I just wanted to have some fun. But when I eagerly tried to untie the ropes, I discovered that these wretched ropes were made of some unknown material—they had no ends and were incredibly strong. Scissors, knives, and pliers couldn't cut them. (Ugh! This is a Swiss Army knife I bought in Switzerland; it can't even cut a rope. I'm going to buy a plane ticket and return it to sue them for international fraud.)

At this point, red marks were already visible on her body. I knew that the thin ropes binding her for so long must have been excruciating for her." Like a thorn in my side, it wouldn't go away. Looking at her pained expression, I felt a strange excitement. I closed my eyes, and a scene seemed to appear before me: "I frantically tore and snapped the ropes binding her, kissed her, ravaged her, and then had a wild time with her… (Ha!
This is prohibited content, 150,000 words deleted)."

Opening my eyes, I saw a girl still tightly bound by countless ropes. Now, the ropes were like frantic bloodsuckers, relentlessly burrowing into her smooth, satin-like skin. Due to prolonged lack of blood circulation, her skin had turned a pale purple. She writhed incessantly, emitting weak, feeble moans, her brow furrowed, her eyes tightly closed. And I could only watch. Suddenly, I felt a pang of guilt. A young, beautiful girl lay before me, severely bound, like a lamb to the slaughter, groaning helplessly. And yet, I felt a strange excitement. Damn it, I actually wanted to take advantage of her vulnerability and do something shameful to her.

(I too was born under the red flag, grew up in a privileged environment, and received education from my teachers. From a young age, I dreamed of becoming a pillar of national construction, a fine Young Pioneer and member of the Communist Youth League. Such a young, promising, ambitious, handsome, and dashing man, yet at this moment, has such filthy and despicable thoughts—shameless, utterly shameless! However, although I am excellent, I am still a man after all. How could I not be moved by such a girl? Besides, God forgives the mistakes of young people. (Although I am over 30, my heart is still young.) So I forgive myself. Ha!)

(Reader's comment: Enough with the nonsense, get to the point quickly, or I won't reply to your post.)

(Ugh! I give up, okay? Considering how hard I worked to write this, at least give me a couple of replies! I won't waste any more
words, okay?)

I looked at the girl in front of me guiltily. "I'm sorry, I really can't untie the ropes, but don't worry, I'll go find the developer right away. Although I don't know if you're doing this willingly, I promise you, once the ropes are untied, I absolutely won't force you to stay with me, even though I've liked you since the day we bought the house." I said to her with apologetic yet gentlemanly manners.

"Waaah, waaah, waaah," she looked at me, nodding repeatedly towards the packaging boxes I had already dismantled.
Could the secret to untying the ropes be hidden inside? I suddenly realized and quickly searched the packaging boxes.

Sure enough, I found a booklet. Opening it, I almost fainted. I won't go into the polite words beforehand; the key point was that because I bought the house with an installment loan, the girl's restraints couldn't be removed until I paid off the full amount. (Ugh! This is outrageous! This is blatant coercion, utterly disregard for human life!)

Furthermore, the company will be holding an SM sports meet in a month, open to all owners of Dongli New Residence. The competition is divided into three main categories and six sub-categories: speed racing, ninjutsu, and teamwork. The winner, Master, will receive permanent access to a "gift" from the company (if they don't participate or fail, the gift will be taken back after the meet—what a load of crap!). They will also become an honorary member of the company's SM club, participating in all club activities. The slave will be freed from the company's restrictions, becoming Master's exclusive slave, with Master having absolute control over them (becoming a lifelong slave, or returning their freedom).

Sigh! Coercion it is! For this girl, it's worth the gamble.

"Do you want to participate in this competition? Don't worry, if we can win, I will respect your choice. I hope to be your friend, not your master." After reading the gist of the booklet to the girl, I carefully asked her a question.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," the girl nodded repeatedly.

"Alright! I'll take that as your agreement. Since you also want to participate in this sports meet, let's work together! I'll go sell my stocks now and raise the money to pay the full amount. Just bear with it a little longer." With

all the formalities completed, I successfully obtained the tools from the developer and untied the ropes binding her.
Her name is Li Lexin, 22 years old, 170cm tall. Two years ago, due to her mother's serious illness, she sold herself into slavery at this real estate company to pay for her treatment. She underwent a special training program and became a professional slave. She had been given as a gift to several masters, but eventually returned to the company (her mother had passed away, she had no home, and the company was now her home). She knew about the sports meet; the company had held them before, but she was still in training then, so she wasn't sure about the specific events.

She told me that in the past two years, she had deeply come to enjoy being a slave, and she was willing to do her best to participate in the sports meet with me. Firstly, she was very curious about the sports meet; secondly, and most importantly, when she was bound in front of me, she sensed an unprecedented sincerity in my words. Although I wasn't handsome, she had a woman's unique intuition; she believed I was the man who could give her lifelong happiness, and she was willing to be my friend (that's what I called her). (Ha!
This is fucking weird, could this be the legendary love at first sight? I have the same feeling for her, ever since I first saw her when we bought the house.) Enough

of the chit-chat, let's get back to the point. Since we're a perfect match, and both of us are willing, let's start preparing for the sports meet together. I put up a banner in the center of the room to encourage us to strive for our shared dream: "One Dream on Earth" (Ha, sounds familiar, right?
But the meaning is slightly different; it means that as long as we have a shared dream, we can create a new world). In addition, I introduced her to my two pets: a blue-eyed mixed-breed Persian cat and a purebred Chow Chow.

…After a frenzy of shopping (for related SM items), we officially began training and established a strict schedule.

First was racing training. I believe the foundation of racing is balance; if you fall halfway down, no matter how fast you jump, it's useless. So the first step in training was balance.

Because we didn't know what the actual competition would be like. I could only use my imagination to the fullest, and she gave me a lot of advice based on her past training experience.

The first day of training began at 9 a.m. after a warm breakfast together, starting with binding her hands.

"You'd better be prepared! Once we start, I won't hold back. Treat it like a real competition,"
I said to my little Xin Xin with a mischievous grin.

"Hmph! I'm not afraid of you. Come on! Tighten it as tight as you can. I won't do it if you loosen it," she stubbornly retorted, raising her head.

"Then I'll begin," I said, feigning a fierce grin.

First, I took out a 10-meter-long rope and wrapped it around her neck, then passed it under her armpits, binding her upper arms, elbows, forearms, and wrists tightly together using a European-style binding method. Because I used a lot of force, the rope tightened into her flesh immediately, and she involuntarily arched her chest and lifted her head under the force of the rope, her shirt showing signs of bursting at the seams (she's a 75D! Heaven has smiled upon me, I'm so lucky!).
"I used to do weightlifting!" I grinned wickedly at her.

"Have you started binding me yet? I can't feel anything." She gritted her teeth and said to me defiantly.

"Fine! You've got guts, I'll make you cry later." After finishing binding her arms, I used the remaining rope to wrap it tightly around her waist a dozen times, then kicked her arms and tightened the knots with both hands. "Ugh! Ugh!" The rope binding made her groan involuntarily. At this point, her hands were tightly bound to her waist.

"How is it? Anything else to say? If not, I'm going to shut you up." I checked to see if there were any loose ropes and asked her with feigned concern.

"Aren't we practicing balance? Why do we need to gag you?" she protested.

"Of course! If you fall, you can use your tongue to regain your balance!" I laughed, trying to justify myself.

To my unreasonable excuse, she simply closed her eyes in silent protest.

I took out an inflatable rubber ball, stuffed it into her mouth, and inflated it until her mouth was completely stretched open. Then I completely wrapped her mouth with a silk scarf. (I'm an aesthete; I think duct tape is too stimulating for aesthetics, so I didn't use it.) I patted her cheek

and asked her in a conciliatory tone, "I'm going to tie your legs now, are you ready?"
(Of course, I knew she couldn't object.)

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she groaned, looking at me with disgust and anger.

I couldn't imagine what she would do if I untied her now—would she pounce on me and bite me? Heh! But I liked it.
First, I put a pair of 10-inch high heels (the kind where only the toes and heels touch the ground) on her feet, one size smaller than hers. I inserted a vibrator into her lower body and secured it with rope. Considering it was the beginning of practice and she needed time to adjust, I stopped tying ropes to her legs separately and instead used a leather strap to cover both her legs, from her ankles to her thighs, tightening the rope until her legs couldn't move at all.
Okay! Everything was done. Now the training began.

I first laid out foam mats around her (so she wouldn't get too hurt if she fell) and then slowly helped her stand up.

"You practice standing for half an hour without falling down, that's passing. Every time you fall, I'll add one minute. Understand? If you succeed, I'll go shopping with you this afternoon. If you don't, I'm sorry, we'll try again this afternoon."
I said to her kindly, but in a commanding tone.

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" She nodded at me.

"Start the timer now," I said, turning on the TV and starting the timer.

She truly deserves her professional training. Wearing such high heels, with her hands tightly bound and unable to maintain her balance, she actually managed to stand shakily for about five minutes on her first try before collapsing to the ground. Luckily, there were foam pads to protect her, otherwise she would have definitely bled.

I rushed over, "Does it hurt? Isn't half an hour too long?" I asked her with concern.
"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" She stubbornly shook her head.

"Don't push yourself too hard, this is only the first day, take it slow, take it step by step!" I hugged her and gently said to her, "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" She was still shaking her head, desperately trying to stand up.

"Okay! But you have to be careful, don't hurt yourself." I helplessly helped my little Xin Xin up.

Time passed by, "Five minutes have passed." I didn't even bother watching TV, I helped her keep track of the time.
"Ten minutes have passed, keep going, think about something else that's happy, the more focused you are, the less stable you might be," I kindly reminded her.

"Okay, not bad, 20 minutes already, victory is in sight!" Before I could finish speaking, she started swaying again. I quickly steadied her. "This isn't a fall, just rest a bit. Thirty minutes is a bit too long," I began to regret ordering such a long time in the first place.

"Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!" She seemed a little angry.

"Don't be stubborn! Communism is wonderful, but we still have to follow socialism with Chinese characteristics first!
Be a good girl, take it one step at a time. You've done very well today," I said patiently.

"Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!"

I helped her stand for a while, then let go and started timing again. This time she seemed more stable, standing motionless like a statue. Looking at her determined expression, I wanted to tease her, but I was afraid she would laugh and fall again.
Ten minutes passed quickly. "Okay, 30 minutes are up. Can you hold on a little longer?" I asked her excitedly.

"Woo! Woo! Woo!" She nodded.

"Hmm, how long can you hold on? If you can't, jump a couple of times. I'll be there to protect you." I removed the mats around her to prevent her from tripping while jumping.

Another 15 minutes passed, and she was still standing, completely still. "That's amazing! You're so incredibly talented!" I walked to the other end of the room and shouted excitedly. "Come on, jump over here and let me give you a good kiss. My lovely little Xin Xin."

She lowered her head, bent over, and carefully jumped towards me.

"Slow down, don't rush." "Ah! Watch out!" She seemed a little too excited and suddenly lost her balance, swaying and quickly tapping her feet on the ground, trying to regain her balance. It seemed she couldn't hold on any longer. I quickly ran over, picked her up, and carried her to the bedside in the bedroom. "You did a fantastic job! Training this morning is over. What kind of reward do you want? I'll take you shopping this afternoon!" I said to her excitedly.

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"

"You'll have your mouth gagged from now on! I love hearing your 'ugh' sounds." I joked as I put her on the bed and began to untie the ropes binding her.

She was completely numb from the ropes; they felt cool to the touch, and her arms were covered in purple welts. (I felt a little sorry for her, but what can I do? I'm a great philanthropist, a model Young Pioneer and a member of the Communist Youth League!) "Go take a hot bath! We'll bathe together." I untied her completely and took out the rubber ball that was stuffed in her mouth.

"You're the worst! You promised to stand for 30 minutes, but you slacked off again. That doesn't count today. Tomorrow I'm going to stand for 30 minutes, no, 40 minutes, to make up for the time I didn't finish today!" she said, playfully "hitting" me.

"Ugh! How can this woman be so ungrateful! If I hadn't been holding you, you probably would have been tied up until tonight and still wouldn't have been able to complete the task," I chuckled, humming in a voice only I could hear.
"What did you say?" she asked, feigning anger, probably knowing I wouldn't say anything nice.
"Nothing, I said I was wrong, and next time I'll definitely keep my word and not be so lenient," I flattered her.

(Athletes have a very high status now, earning high salaries and acting like tyrants, just like those football players in China. Coaches! Sigh! They have no status!)

"Hmm! That's more like it," "No, if you don't show me any tenderness, whose tenderness are you planning to show tenderness to?" she questioned me, nitpicking.

"Sigh! I said the wrong thing again, okay? There's only one cute and beautiful little Xin Xin in the world, if I don't cherish you and love you, who else am I supposed to cherish!" I quickly admitted my mistake again.

"Hmm! That's more like it. Write me a self-criticism later, if it's not profound, I'll dismiss you," she pressed on relentlessly.

"Ha! I'll write it, I'll write it, okay? I'm going to take a shower, and this afternoon I'll go shopping with you."
I turned my head and grinned helplessly.

…After an afternoon of frenzied shopping, I was completely won over. This woman's enthusiasm for shopping was truly astonishing. From 1 p.m. until the mall closed, we left our footprints in several large shopping centers nearby. From underwear to coats, I carried nearly 20 large bags. (Well, what could I do? She came naked! Because of company discipline, she never even had a decent set of clothes. Ha!
She doesn't need to go out; she can just wear a blouse at home every day.) But seeing her satisfied expression, it was all worth it, especially since everything she bought was on sale. (I insisted on buying her several very fashionable clothes, but she didn't want them because they weren't on sale. I know she was thinking of my wallet; actually, making my loved one look even more beautiful is what I really want. Money! Isn't it meant to be spent?
(Ha! I've gone a bit off-topic again. To be honest, I've been writing this like a diary, and although my thoughts flow freely, I keep veer off-topic. I apologize to everyone.)

After having a late-night snack, it was time to start the endurance training as planned. After a comprehensive analysis with Xiao Xinxin,
we concluded that the so-called endurance techniques are nothing more than tickling, enemas, prolonged extreme binding, etc. So we decided to do it all at once, combining all these elements into a comprehensive training session.

First, we bound her upper body, using the same method as when she first arrived, but using extremely thin ropes to bind her wrists and neck. This way, the effect of the thin ropes would be more noticeable no matter how she moved her neck or wrists. I pulled her hands to their limit, almost reaching the back of her head. The rope was wrapped around her neck more than a dozen times, giving her a strong feeling of suffocation. The number of ropes on her arms and their tightness were also increased, and several ropes were tied around her breasts as well (actually, I don't like being tied like this; a woman's soft, firm breasts are the most beautiful. Being constricted by ropes into small balls, they turn purplish-black due to poor blood circulation. It's really unsightly. But who knows what the competition will be like!
So let's just follow the competition standards).

"How many milliliters did you usually use for enemas?" I asked her.

"About two liters!" she replied.

"How much? Two liters? That's the volume of a large bottle of Coke! You're not mistaken, are you?" I said in surprise. "Yes, that's the size of the bottle, but it's filled with water or milk or something," she said very confidently.
"Okay, I don't have an empty large Coke bottle here, how about we just fill it with Coke?" I suddenly had an idea.
"Hmm... okay, but I've never tried that before, it should be quite exciting!" She thought for a moment and agreed to my suggestion.

"Then I won't hold back! Wait for me to buy some Coke," I said excitedly.

"When have you ever been polite? Come on, bring it on! I can take it." She seemed to be getting excited too.

I poured the whole bottle of Coke down her throat in one go, quickly plugged her anus with a plug, and inserted a huge vibrator into her vagina, tying it tightly with rope. I wrapped the excess rope around her waist a dozen times, and then stepped on her smooth, round little buttocks, tying a big, tight knot. This was really ruthless. The rope around her waist and neck made her suffocate and almost unable to speak. I guess the Coke that had been poured in was starting to take effect.
(Coke tastes pretty good, but I can't even imagine what it feels like to have it poured in; it must be awful.)

Snot and tears streamed down her face.

"Little dirty one, is it too painful?" I used a tissue to wipe away her tears and snot.

"You...you...you're the one who's dirty! It's...okay...I can handle it." She retorted intermittently. "Ha! You're quite something. It's just that you weren't born during the Anti-Japanese War. If you were here, Sister Jiang wouldn't have had a chance."
I said with a chuckle, but my hands didn't stop.

I took out two ten-meter-long ropes and tightly wrapped them around each of her legs twenty or thirty times. Then I took out an even longer rope, put her legs together, and carefully tied them together, reinforcing each rope several times between her legs.
Perhaps it was too tight; her legs were so restricted she could barely bend them. Then, a thin rope was used to tie her two big toes together, pulling them taut towards the instep and securing them to the rope around her ankles. A short rope was then tied to her hair, the end continuing to be tied to her big toes. Her body was stretched into an arch by the rope, her head held high, unable to move. Finally, a rope was used to vertically connect the rope between her toes and head to her waist, further widening the arch.

Because her head was pulled high, the rope around her neck tightened even more. Instantly, her face turned bright red from difficulty breathing.

"You…do you…use this to tie people up often, are you so skilled? Ah! Ah! Can you loosen the rope around my neck a little? I can't breathe." She looked at me in pain.

"No! I've never tied anyone up before; this is purely theoretical knowledge. But I'm truly a genius; the theory and practice are combined so perfectly." I feigned modesty and loosened the rope around her neck slightly. (I didn't want anyone to die; this was a gift from heaven, and I had to cherish
it.)

"It's eleven o'clock now. How many hours do you think you can last?" I asked, learning from my experience this morning.

"Three hours!" she replied through gritted teeth. "No, just two hours! I'll tickle your feet in between!" I said, feigning concern. "No, just three hours. I can handle it. What if the competition lasts longer?" she immediately rejected my concern.

"Heh! How about this? I'll give you three intelligence tests. For each wrong answer to the first two, you'll get half an hour extra, plus a small punishment. If you get all three wrong, I'm sorry, I'll blindfold you and gag you, making you spend those three hours in the dark. How about that?" I chuckled secretly, watching her fall deeper into my trap. Ha! Men are so cunning. (That's why I didn't gag her or
blindfold her at first.)

"Fine, I don't believe I can't answer any of the three questions," she said to me, a little defiantly.

"Let's begin now. The first question is to test your reaction time. You must answer within one second, or you lose." I emphasized the rules.

"Which is heavier, ten pounds of iron or ten pounds of cotton?" Quick, answer!

"Iron," she answered without hesitation.

"Ah! No, they're the same weight," she suddenly realized.

"Oh! Sorry, you've exceeded the time limit. Now the time is increased to two and a half hours." I laid her horizontally on the ground and called out my pet Persephone. "Go, lick her!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! You little stinky cat, ha! No, stop licking, I give up, ha! No, I can't take it anymore," she laughed more like she was crying.

"No! You can't say that during a competition! Everything is according to the competition rules." This cat, having been with me for so many years, is really obedient. This little punishment lasted for two minutes. She was completely speechless from the torment.

"Alright, let's move on to the second question." I didn't give her any time to catch her breath and continued asking her questions: "A spinster who has never been late for work discovered someone was following her on her way to work. She felt very uneasy, but when she arrived at the office, she was unexpectedly late. Why?"

"The clock at work is fast, so she wasn't actually late," she thought for a moment and answered.

"Wrong, the clock at work hasn't changed, but she was indeed late." I pointed out her mistake directly.
She thought for a moment again: "Then the woman's clock is slow, so she was late."

"Do you sell watches? Why are you obsessed with watches? That's not right." I was getting a little impatient.
"Then...then...I can't think of anything," she said helplessly.

I looked at her and smiled smugly, "Well, I'm sorry, your 'binding time' has now increased to 3 hours. It's not that I'm not helping you, it's just that you didn't make the most of it."

She said, somewhat exasperated, "You...you...did you do that on purpose?!

" "Ha! Because the stalker was too slow, ha! I'll let you off this time, I won't let the puppy lick you, I'll lick you myself later." I laughed even more smugly.

"Next, the third question, why are your feet bigger than mine?"

"What kind of stupid question is this! I don't know!" She was completely enraged, ignoring me.

"Ha! Don't be so hasty! You admit you don't know, huh? I'll tell you the answer first, then I'll shut you up, blindfold you, and make you admit defeat." I looked at her seriously, feigning sympathy.
"The answer is, I forgot to introduce my two pets' names to you before. My little Persian cat is named 'Foot,' and this big Chow Chow is named 'Your Foot.' It's obvious, isn't it? 'Your foot is bigger than mine.'" I couldn't hold back any longer and burst into unrestrained laughter as I spoke.

"You...you...you've gone too far!" (150,000 words have been deleted here due to excessive vulgarity)
"Sorry." I took out the towel I had prepared beforehand and stuffed it into her mouth bit by bit. I wrapped it with wide tape several times, then tied it with a silk scarf, making a tight knot. I also blindfolded her with another silk scarf. Now she was completely unable to speak, see, or move, just a breathing creature enduring the constant threat of attack and the long three hours in the darkness.

(Damn it. Tying her up like this is so satisfying. In reality, if I did this, I wouldn't last three hours, I'd be lucky to last three minutes.)

The room was very quiet, so quiet that you could almost hear the sound of cola being poured into Xiao Xin Xin's body. She was tied to the ground, afraid to move an inch. Any movement would only intensify her pain. The ropes were everywhere, the restraints were everywhere; even the slightest movement of her toes would trigger excruciating agony. To make matters worse, there was me, the mischievous one, and my two obedient pets nearby.

The cat and dog were fascinated by this "object," constantly circling around her and occasionally licking her with interest. Watching my little Xin Xin want to move but dare not, only able to let out heart-wrenching whimpers, I felt both heartache and excitement. At appropriate times, I'd even add insult to injury by tickling the soles of her feet a few times, then scold her in the tone of a stern coach: "Don't move! Bear with it! The reason I'm tied up so tightly is to let you know how serious the consequences of moving are. 'No pain, no gain. Heaven will entrust great responsibilities to those who are first tested with hardship, toil, and hunger.' (Ha! I've remembered all that stuff I learned in school.) The more hardship you endure now, the better your chances of success in the competition a month later. Don't blame me, little comrade! I'm doing this all for your own good!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!
"

Finally, three hours passed. When I painstakingly untied her ropes, removed the cola, and a pile of filth, she was completely paralyzed, unable to even speak. Yet, her eyes shone with passion and desire. I pounced on her… passion ignited us completely. In an instant, we seemed to lose our minds, becoming a pair of crazed beasts… An hour later, we both reached our climax simultaneously.

…After half a month of training, she had completely improved, not only standing steadily in ten-inch heels but also jumping around energetically. Her endurance training had doubled, and tickling no longer had any effect on her. (To summarize, good talent is key to success, but a good coach is indispensable. At this rate, I could become a professional rope bondage instructor, but unfortunately, there's no such profession in Beijing. Sigh!)
The next step is practical training, with the goal of achieving a state of "ropes on the body, but no ropes in the mind; the rope is me, and I am the rope; no rope, no self; forgetting both rope and self." (Ha! I'm so talented; I'm even a little impressed with myself.)

The practical implementation involves keeping her completely under the constraints of various restraints for a week, performing various household chores. Most importantly, the restraints will not be removed during this week. This way, the training can be integrated into daily life to achieve a return to simplicity, much like ancient swordsmen improving their swordsmanship through playing Go.

First, I gave her a certain amount of laxative to ensure all the waste in her abdomen was expelled. Then, I performed repeated enemas to wash away any remaining waste. The binding was scheduled to begin the next day.

"Starting today, you'll be in charge of the house cleaning and three meals a day for the next week. Be prepared!"
I said with a wicked grin.

She looked at me with a hint of helplessness. "You always have so many tricks up your sleeve. You can come up with all sorts of lousy schemes."
"Thank you for the compliment!"

[Considering the issue of blood circulation due to prolonged binding, all the bindings were done with duct tape and leather straps.]
First, put a neck collar on her to restrict her breathing to some extent without causing suffocation. Then, tie a wide belt around her waist and tighten it to shrink her waist to about 1.6 feet (her waist circumference is 1.9 feet). Wrap duct tape around her wrists and elbows several times. Then, use a leather glove with open ends to put over her entire arm except for her hands, tightening the buckles one by one. The upper leather strap of the glove is connected to the neck collar for fixation, and the lower leather strap passes between her legs and is connected to the wide belt for fixation. In this way, her entire arm is completely fixed behind her back, and only her fingers can move. (This is for housework.)

Before binding her legs, insert a catheter into her genitals and secure it with a belt. (She was only allowed to drink glucose and other highly nutritious oral liquids each day, along with simple liquid food. This would solve her excretion problems within a week, but I was in trouble; I had to endure a week without being able to have sex with her.) Tape was wrapped around her ankles, above and below her knees, and on her thighs several times, then a leather gag was used from her ankles to her thighs, tightening the knots to completely bind her legs. She was still wearing those small, ten-inch high heels.

Finally, a gag was placed in her mouth, with an interface at the other end that could be replaced with various tools depending on the task. For example, a small broom for cleaning, a small spatula for cooking, etc.

After all the binding was completed, the week-long special training officially began.

"It's 8 a.m., Xiao Xinxin. I'm going out for a while and will be back at noon. I hope you can clean the living room floor and bookshelves before I get back. I'll be checking when I return! I'll make lunch for you after I change the tools."

"Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!" She probably meant for me not to leave. Actually, I wasn't planning on leaving. I had already installed a camera in the living room; I was just changing locations to observe.

After the first half month of training, moving around was no longer a problem for her, but this time was a little different. She needed to kneel on the ground and use a small broom in her mouth to sweep the debris (which I had scattered on the ground before I left. How mean of me!) into a box fixed in the corner. Cleaning a 60-square-meter living room is not a small task for an ordinary person, let alone for a frail girl whose freedom is severely restricted and who can only sweep with her head down and a small broom in her mouth.

I watched through the camera as she knelt on the ground, and even the slightest movement required a hundred or even a thousand times more effort than an ordinary person. After sweeping each spot, she had to completely bend her head down, using it as a fulcrum to laboriously move her legs slightly, and then repeat the process. (I had already put a thick hat on her to prevent her from hitting her head.)

During this process, she would easily lose her balance and fall to the ground. She kept writhing and groaning; the catheter inserted into her vagina was probably causing her considerable trouble. (My friend's wife had this inserted during surgery; apparently, it creates the urge to urinate, but she doesn't realize she's actually urinating.)

"Where there's a will, there's a way," and around midnight, she finally finished cleaning the living room. Four hours had completely exhausted her. She leaned against the wall, her eyes helplessly staring at the ceiling. Although there were still many areas left to clean, it was already quite good considering she was tied up.

I opened the door and pretended to inspect the room. "Hmm! Not bad, and quite fast too, but the quality is a little lacking. Keep up the good work,

and don't get complacent. Take a break and then go cook!" Cleaning might be manageable with sheer willpower, but cooking is definitely not an easy task; in my opinion, it's almost an impossible mission. Even though it was just a simple tomato and egg stir-fry, she had to turn her back and use her hands, bound to her hips, to crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk them. It was clear she cooked at home often; even with her hands tied, she handled the task with ease.

I replaced the small broom in her mouth with a spatula. She turned on the stove, poured in the oil, and added the tomatoes and eggs.
Bending over, she laboriously used the spatula in her mouth to stir the vegetables. Finally, I helped her put the cooked dish on a plate. All of this sounds easy, but for little Xin Xin, who was actually cooking, it was a painful and lengthy process. She had to be extremely careful with every movement; one wrong move and she would get burned by the fire or the pan. In just a few minutes, her body was completely soaked with sweat. She was bent over, panting heavily.
I completely understood how a woman, bound and unable to move, felt when forced to complete seemingly impossible tasks under the supervision of a physically strong and energetic man. Even if she enjoyed masochism, she certainly wasn't enjoying it. But there was no way to stop once the training began. Now she had to endure her physical and mental exhaustion to bring the stir-fried dishes to the table. She had to move her feet inch by inch; jumping would have been faster, but if she did, there might only be an empty plate left by the time she got to the table. The kitchen and toilet were places she was supposed to clean that afternoon, and any dirt on the floor would make cleaning difficult. It took her a full 10 minutes to move just 5 or 6 meters. Okay, I can start eating now, but she has to watch. Braised pork might be the best gift for her right now, but she could only drink the prepared glucose water and nutrient solution from a cup through a straw.

A week passed quickly, and for me, those seven days were perhaps the happiest and most enjoyable week of my life so far. But for her, it was a long ordeal, even though she had completely adapted to this life and successfully completed her tasks. The hard work every day had left her exhausted, and during her rest time she had to endure my endless torment: tickling, whipping (though not too severely), suffocation, and so on.

This week may have been hell on earth for her, but it was paradise for me.

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