Training Case Study - HR

Training Case Study -

HR Author: Tailored Teaching
Source: ljdy
Word Count: 11,000

Case 1: Dining Table

I met her online. Initially, there was no clear purpose; we just chatted, and later,
the conversations became more in-depth. Since we were chatting, we became less reserved and the conversations deepened. She complained about
not being satisfied, specifically with psychological and emotional fulfillment. So, I learned more about her daily life
and personal situation.

She was an HR manager at a foreign company. She was quite assertive in her work, and her subordinates respected her, even somewhat feared her, and

often tried to please her. She was 38 years old, and her husband was somewhat henpecked. Moreover, her income was
significantly higher than his, making him the weaker party.

She often felt distressed, believing herself to be too assertive, wanting to avoid attention, and wanting to show her
vulnerable side. After more than half a month of communication, I devised a plan for her,

telling her it could help her achieve her wishes. She curiously asked me for the specifics, but I refused to tell her.

I simply told her: "If you want to achieve your wish, then trust me and follow my arrangements. If
you feel you still have time and can give up this opportunity, then don't listen to me." She hesitated for two days,
but later contacted me, saying she was willing to take the risk. I just hoped she wouldn't lose.

After making this decision, she came to my city one weekend. I didn't pick her up. I told
her the address and asked her to take a taxi.

Instead of going to a hotel, I rented a serviced apartment in the Youth Hub. It was a duplex. The first floor
had the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. The second floor had the bedroom. While I waited patiently, she pushed open the door and entered.

She was indeed a very strong woman, very capable, with her hair tied up and wearing half-rimmed wire-rimmed
glasses.

There wasn't much small talk. I locked the door, put her suitcase aside, and told her to go upstairs. She hesitated
for a moment, but still obediently went upstairs. The wooden stairs clattered under her high heels, and watching her sway her hips
was quite nice. The upstairs layout was simple: a double bed, a TV, and a coffee table.

My computer was on the coffee table. My hiking backpack, next to the bed, contained some of the things I had brought.

She sat elegantly on the edge of the bed, with a haughty air. Her eyes revealed a hint of doubt, perhaps
doubt that I could fulfill her wishes.

"Stand up," I said. She hesitated for a moment. Seeing that I was just watching her quietly, she finally stood up.

"Take off all your clothes," I said. She didn't move, somewhat stiffly. I didn't urge her, just watched her quietly.

After about five or six minutes, she finally began to unbutton her clothes in the awkward silence,
slowly taking them off. Her movements were stiff. I took the remote and turned on the TV, not looking at her. She glanced
at me from time to time, but I pretended not to notice, as if she didn't exist beside me. Finally, she was naked, hesitating whether
to get on the bed with me. I stood up, walked to her side, and pulled the hairpin from the back of her head.

Her hair fell down. I grabbed her hair, pressed her head down, she struggled, but it was no use, I forced her
to her knees. She was panicked, wanting to escape but afraid of angering me. I made her brace herself on the ground,
then took my hiking backpack. First, I took out a new pair of pantyhose, unpacked them, and
rolled them up to her waist, forming a rope shape, then draped it around her neck, the legs of the stockings going under her armpits
and around her back. Then I folded her long hair at the back of her neck, took out a metal binder, secured her hair,
and then threaded the stockings through the hole created by the folded hair, pulling hard. Her head involuntarily tilted
back , and I tied the stockings tightly. Now her head could only move left and right, no longer able to look down.

She was tense and confused, not knowing what I was going to do. I didn't say a word and went downstairs.

There were washed dishes and wine glasses in the kitchen. There was chilled cola and cigarettes in the refrigerator. I found
a tray, arranged these things, and went upstairs.

She was still looking at me blankly. I placed the wine glasses on her buttocks, arranging them carefully. Then, corresponding to
her lower abdomen, I placed a plate.

"Don't move," I said.

"Can you tell me what you're going to do?" she asked.

"You're my coffee table, and coffee tables don't talk," she said, confused. She seemed to understand what I meant,
but still struggled to process the meaning of my words.

I carefully poured the wine into the glass, filling it to the brim. A slight sway caused the wine to spill.

"Do your job properly, or I'll make you wish you were dead," I
said .

She trembled involuntarily, a trickle of golden wine flowing down the side of the glass, over the
long stem and base, onto her. The cold wine wasn't icy, but the sudden stimulation
made her scream. Then, even more wine spilled out, causing her to jerk
and nearly knock the glass over. I quickly caught the glass, pressed her back to the ground, and
lightly slapped her cheek.

"This is the first time. If there's a next time, you'd better think it over," she said, looking at me with fear.

I refilled her glass. She trembled slightly. Some of the spilled wine dripped down her back
into the dish, while some accumulated in the hollow of her waist.

I grabbed a cushion, sat next to her, and connected my laptop to the TV. Switching to the secondary screen,
the view was from the webcam I'd placed on the chair; it showed her, a glass of wine on her bottom.

I used my laptop to chat online and read novels. After about ten minutes, she started trembling again. She
cautiously to talk to me, but I kicked her, almost spilling the wine again.

She looked aggrieved, her eyes reddening. But I ignored her. Have you ever seen someone
chat with a coffee table? I took out some bananas I'd brought, peeled them, and ate them, casually tossing the peels onto her back.

She tried her best to suppress her grievances, not daring to utter a sound.

"Oh dear, I forgot to put the Coke away, it'll get cold soon," I muttered to myself as I
picked up the can from the floor and placed it on her back. The Coke can already had condensation on it, more so than when I first took it out of the freezer.
The can was still cold when it was placed in the box, and she was so agitated that she almost collapsed to the ground, but I pulled her back by her hair. The can rolled
back and forth on her back, and she clenched her teeth. But tears were already streaming down her face.

"This isn't good, people will think something's wrong with me. I take good care of the furniture, haven't I been good to you?"
I looked at her with a smile.

She didn't dare to speak, afraid that a choked voice would bring me even more unknown torment. She slowly shook her head.

"Then I'm very good to you, very caring, right?" I asked again. She wanted to nod, but her hair was tied up tightly,
and she couldn't lower her head, only able to respond with a "hmm" through her nose.

I smiled, indicating my satisfaction. We continued chatting online. After about 10 minutes, I guessed that the cola
might not be cold anymore, so I took it down. She seemed to let out a long sigh of relief. I went to the chair
, took the camera back, and pointed it at her back. She stared nervously at the TV, not knowing what I
was going to do .

I found her underwear among the clothes she had taken off.

"I'm very hygienic, I'm going to wipe the table now," I said, picking up the wine glass and
slowly pouring the wine onto her bottom. She let out a cry but immediately held it in,
like .

The TV clearly showed the bright orange wine, with its fine bubbles, flowing over her body, her
private parts, some dripping directly into the plate, some running down her thighs. "Oh dear, where did this stray dog come from that peed
on my favorite coffee table?" I said, using my underwear to soak up the wine and wipe her body.

Without the glass and can on her, she relaxed immediately, crawling onto the floor, the banana peel also
wiping away.

Carefully wiping her body, the cold wine and the warmth from the vigorous rubbing gave her skin a
rosy glow. Hehe, my mahogany coffee table.

When I wiped her lower body, it felt slippery. I scooped up some juice and smeared it on her nose and
lips . She tried to dodge, but I held her firmly, smearing the juice into her mouth. She pursed her lips but dared not spit it out,
her face showing disgust.

I slapped her across the face. "Believe it or not, I'll fuck you." But I believed she would
rather be treated like this.

After wiping her body, I pulled her to the bedside. I sat on the edge of the bed, my feet on her back,
occasionally teasing her nipples with my toes. The soft breasts against my feet felt very comfortable. Her nipples were also soft and swollen.

(I looked at my watch; it was almost noon.

I went to the kitchen and microwaved the instant food I had brought. Then I took it upstairs. I first put a plate
on her buttocks, then put the food on the plate. The heat quickly transferred to the plate, gradually becoming hot.
She squirmed restlessly, but after I slapped her buttocks, she dared not move anymore, enduring it for herself.

After 5 or 6 minutes, I opened the lunchbox, scooped out a spoonful and fed her. She held it in her mouth and cried again.) Ugh,
women are such a hassle. I must have been too good to her; I made her cry.

I fed her [the whole thing], and then gave her some medicine. Then I cleaned her up again, this time focusing on
her bottom. I cleaned her very carefully, even cleaning the crevices of her bottom thoroughly. Yeah, you can't leave any blind spots when cleaning.

While I was washing her genitals, she suddenly turned around and hugged me, saying, "I want you."

I pushed her away, saying, "Want your mother's ass, huh? I've already brought you back to be my coffee table, what else do you
want ?"

She leaned closer again, saying, "Yeah, I want your dick."

I pressed her against my lap and slapped her buttocks, again and again, saying, "Want your mother's ass, all you
know is wanting a dick, you slut, you'll die if I don't fuck you, can't you just behave and be your coffee table?!"

She kept screaming, shouting, "Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me!"

After slapping her about 20 times, my palms were hot and numb. At this moment, I felt a heat on my legs; she had actually peed
, damn it! She got me all dirty. After slapping her a few more times to vent my anger, I threw her on the floor, watching her
limp there, and then stepped on her back and rubbed it a few times.

After a while, she seemed to regain some consciousness. She moved around on the floor, trying to get up. I got out of bed
and pulled her up. After she stood up, liquid ran down her legs. Her eyes were vacant.

"Want to be fucked?" I asked her. She seemed to have some difficulty thinking and nodded slowly.

I loosened the clips in her hair, dragged her downstairs, and made her hold onto the stairs, bending over.

I entered her from behind, grabbing her hair and forcing her head back. I thrust wildly. She kept
muttering to herself, saying dirty words.

While I was fucking her, I used my other hand to fondle her breasts, slap her buttocks, and stimulate her anus. It all
ended with her screaming. After fucking her [the whole thing], I threw her onto the sofa in the living room. Grabbing her hair, I pulled her
to my lower abdomen. She struggled to stay awake and cleaned me up. She soon fell asleep.

Well, this happened in August 2008. She later said that it did indeed fulfill her dream, but at the time she felt
humiliated and resentful, thinking, "How could you treat me like this? I'm so noble, everyone
flatters and fawns over me, but I'm humiliated and treated like a plaything."

I told her that this was what she subconsciously craved, the experience she lacked.

Case 2: Vending Machine

. The target was still the HR manager from the foreign company in "The Dining Table."

A brief introduction: We met online; she's a 38-year-old HR manager from a foreign company. Because she's very assertive, she often
complains about not getting psychological and spiritual satisfaction. She wants to avoid attention and wants to show her vulnerable side.

I once devised a "dining table" plan to implement for her.

After the last time we met, she went back and remained silent for a few days before contacting me again to talk. She said this time it felt
wonderful, unreal, like a dream. She felt very empty. She probably
saw a confidant, and kept rambling on and on.

About a month later, she said she had an opportunity to come to my place for a meeting and asked if I could take
her again. I agreed and told her I would have a new plan. She was very excited and told me online that she
felt bloated, as if she was about to urinate, and that her legs were tightly clenched, and she felt that she would lose control of her bladder if she relaxed
.

Her meeting was from Thursday to Friday, and I booked a room at the Youth Hub again.

When I arrived, I was still carrying my hiking backpack, stuffed full of things. I also brought a
cardboard box from the packaging of a Panasonic fully automatic washing machine, which I bought from a junk collector for 30 yuan. The
junk collector probably only got the box for 10 yuan, so he made a profit.

I called her; she was still at the meeting. Her voice was very low, and she sounded very nervous.

I said, "Same place, do you remember how to get there?"

She said, "Yes."

I said, "The location hasn't changed, but the room has. I'll only say this once: come over immediately after the meeting, understand?"

She said, "Understood."

I gave her the room number and immediately hung up.

The meeting ended at 5 pm, followed by a conference meal. She made an excuse and ran out without eating. She came straight to my place
. Although there was some traffic, thankfully she didn't encounter the rush hour between 5:30 and 7:00 pm, and arrived 10 minutes before 6 pm. 　　I opened the door for her. She was excited and about to speak when I glared at her fiercely, followed by a slap. "Do you know you made me wait for over an hour?" she cried out. I then kicked her in the leg, leaving a footprint on her dark blue suit skirt. She staggered back two steps, leaning against the wall in the hallway . 　　"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice trembling, probably from fear and grievance. I walked over, grabbed her hair, pulled her into the room, locked the door, and pinned her against it. 　　"Don't cry!" My harsh voice only made tears well up in her reddened eyes. 　She was afraid I would hit her again. She hurriedly wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I sneered . I pulled her away from the door by her hair, shoved her, and let go. She staggered to the middle of the living room. 　　"Take it off," I said calmly. 　　Hearing this, she hurriedly began to take off her clothes. I didn't even have time to fold the clothes I'd taken off; they were all thrown on the sofa. 　She seemed startled by me. 　She was so well-behaved that I couldn't help but smile, but I wouldn't let her see it. 　　I dragged the washing machine box over. I'd already reassembled the cardboard box into a cube. 　　Picking it up, I saw a solid piece of foam underneath. 　　She was already dressed, looking at the box with a puzzled expression. 　　Without saying a word, I put the box over her. The box was about 1.2 meters long and maybe 80 or 90 centimeters thick. I took two palm-width wooden strips from my backpack, which I'd bought at IKEA. I placed them upright inside the cardboard box and had her stand with her legs against the strips. I took out a screwdriver and poked four holes in the cardboard box along the sides of the strips, at the thigh and calf positions. I did the same for the other leg. 　After securing it, I took out a wide nylon self-locking cable tie. Wrap the cable ties thickly around the areas where they would be in contact with her skin using toilet paper to prevent skin irritation. After wrapping, have her stand against the wooden slats, thread both ends of the cable ties through the holes, lock them, and tighten. Once everything is done, I say to her, "Lift your legs and take a few steps." 　　She obediently tries to walk, but can't move and almost falls. I'm satisfied. 　　I have her bend over, with her bottom pressed against the box wall. Then, after measuring the position, I make a 4- centimeter diameter hole in the top of the box. I also make a similar hole on the opposite side. After making the holes, I carefully widen a 2-centimeter slit . She looks confused. 　　I hug her from behind and place her on the foam. The box is now complete. Then I place a small stainless steel basin in front of and behind the slit. 　　I took out a piece of paper with the instruction manual written on it and handed it to her. "Read it!" 　　She took the manual and began to read haltingly: "This vending machine provides cleaning services. This machine charges per use, one entry and exit counts as one time. Front hole cleaning is 1 cent per use, and back hole cleaning is 1 dollar per use. Special offer: Purchase 10 front hole cleanings at once and receive one free soft brush cleaning service. If you insert multiple coins at once, the service will be provided for the corresponding number of times. If the payment is [full text], a voice prompt will remind the customer to insert more coins if they need more service. If the customer does not insert more coins, a voice prompt will say thank you for using the machine and goodbye. When the customer inserts coins for the first time, a voice prompt will say: Welcome, thank you for using this machine, please stand still and pay." 　　Listening to her read it haltingly, I couldn't help but get excited. "Do you understand?" I asked. 　　"Yes, I understand. But..." 　　My slap interrupted her. "No buts. I'm telling you, behave yourself and don't mix up the front and back holes, or I'll kill you if I lose money." 　　This time, surprisingly, she didn't comply. Instead, she said, "I don't want anyone else..." 　　Another slap. "You wish! Someone else? Someone else my ass!" 　　Hearing this, she seemed to relax. She apologized again, "I'm sorry." 　　Another slap followed. "You're just being a jerk. You can't stand not hitting you. Bend over!" 　　She silently bent over, and I made her mouth face the front hole to make sure it was just right. Then I dropped coins into the front and back slits twice, adjusted the bowl's position, made sure the coins landed perfectly, and showed her the different sounds. Then I closed the box, sealed the top edge with packing tape , and tied the box and base together lengthwise. 　　Everything was done. I shook the box; it seemed very sturdy. 　　I took a box out of my backpack; it was full of coins. 　　Then I stood in front and inserted a one-cent coin. It made a sound. 　　"Welcome, thank you for using this machine, please hold on tight." I pulled down my sweatpants, pulled out my penis, and inserted it into the hole. A warm mouth awaited me. It gently swallowed and released my penis. 　　Then it stopped moving. 　　Before I could do anything, I heard a gentle voice: "Hello! Thank you for using it . Please insert coins to continue using it." This little slut is really clever. I grabbed a few coins and inserted them one by one, enjoying the oral service. Just as I was enjoying the swallowing and releasing sensation, suddenly something soft and slippery circled , then brushed against the opening as it retreated. I shuddered, almost ejaculating. Oh, buy ten!

A free soft brush cleaning service. This little vixen really got it right.

I pulled out my penis and heard her say, "Thank you for using it, goodbye!" I went to the back, put in a dollar,
"Welcome, thank you for using this machine, please stand firm and hold on." There seemed to be a slight tremor in her voice. I aimed at
the hole and thrust in. "Hiss..." I gasped, the hot, yet wet passage was quite
smooth , quite a lot of fluid, it seems. I took a handful of one-dollar coins, inserting them as I inserted, the clinking
sound of coins accompanying the thrusting. The rhythm was really exciting. After a while, I decided to rest,
slow and steady wins the race. I went to watch TV. Leaving her in the box.

After watching TV for about half an hour, I heard sounds coming from inside the box. This position was probably too strenuous.

Her legs couldn't bend, and her back couldn't straighten. It must have been quite difficult.

I walked over. "Machine maintenance time." I opened the box. She seemed to be holding it in, breathing heavily
, straightening her back, and pounding her chest with her hands.

I reached down and touched her lower body; it was incredibly wet, and her thighs were sticky too. I casually wiped it on her lips.

"Count how much money you've earned this year." She laboriously bent down to pick up the basin and counted; it totaled 61
yuan. She cleverly imitated the machine's voice: "Today's income is a total of sixty-one yuan and jiao. "

I smiled and patted her cheek. I handed her a bottle of mineral water. She took two sips, then put down the bottle, blushing,
and said, "I need to go to the toilet."

"Big or small?" I asked.

Her face turned even redder, and she hesitated before saying, "Small."

"Hold it in, you can't hold it in here." She still held it in.

I took her pantyhose, positioned the waist and abdomen against her lower abdomen, secured the front to her waist with a belt,
then took a rope and tied the crotch to her legs, bending the legs over and wrapping them around a few times before letting them hang down. I put a
basin underneath, so if she peed, it would just slowly run down her pants leg without making a sound.

I said, "How about I put the machine near the elevator later?" She was shocked and wanted to object. Before she could open
her mouth, I said, "No objections allowed! You really think you're a human being!" I resealed the box and
gave her her phone, telling her to put it on silent mode so she wouldn't be caught. I moved the box with difficulty and placed it at the elevator entrance.

Seeing that no one was around, I put in a dime. She didn't say anything for a long time. I kicked the box, and she spoke in a
very soft voice. I kicked it again, "Speak louder, or I'll push you into the elevator."

She said tremblingly, "Welcome, thank you for using this machine, please stand firm and hold on." I pulled down my waistband and
inserted it.

I was enjoying myself, inserting coins as I went, when the elevator dinged. Damn, someone's getting off on this floor! I
quickly pulled out my penis, just as I pulled up my pants, the elevator doors opened, and someone got off, nearly bumping into the locker. They gave the locker an
annoyed look and walked away. I ran to the back and thrust in without inserting coins. She snorted and then
stopped. I thrust a few times, then pulled out. Leaning against the locker, I said, "You stay put, I'm
going for a walk. Call me if anything happens." Then I went to the stairwell and peeked out. I also lit a cigarette.

It was almost nine o'clock. It seemed like more people were coming and going, the elevators were going up and down, but no
one was getting off on this floor yet.

My phone vibrated. A text message: "Where are you? I'm so scared." I didn't reply, keeping her in
suspense . A while later, my phone vibrated again; this time it was a phone call. I answered the phone, feigning impatience
, "What?"

"I'm so scared, I need to pee. I can't hold it anymore," she said, her voice barely audible. She

sounded like she was about to cry.

Just as I was about to speak, the elevator dinged again. I quickly hung up and peeked out. The elevator doors opened, revealing a
boy of about 18 or 19, carrying a backpack and wearing a school uniform. He was probably a resident. This mixed-use building still had residents
. He almost tripped over the box as he stepped out. "Damn it!" he cursed, then, seeing no one,
kicked . Just as he was about to kick it again, I came out from the stairwell, and he ran away, unsure
if the box was mine or if I was just passing by.

I walked over to the box, deliberately lowering my voice, and said: "Who the hell threw this box here, letting me get a freebie?"

(To see what's inside.) Then I reached out and shook the box. I heard what sounded like her rapid breathing inside.
I then stuck my finger into the right side, the back hole, and touched her bottom. She screamed and jerked forward
, making the box shake.

I said, "Silly girl, it's me!" She stopped screaming. I moved the box back to the room. When I opened it, she
immediately sat up, hugged me, and started crying.

I held her and gently patted her back, saying, "Don't cry, don't cry, I'm here, I'm here." After

comforting her for a while, she finally stopped, sobbing intermittently. "I thought... I thought you
didn't want me anymore."

I smiled gently. "How could I? You're so obedient, how could I not want you?"

She sobbed, "You want me." I made her bend over and then inserted coins from behind. This time it was
a handful of coins, one after another, clinking and clanging...

She sobbed, "Welcome...welcome...thank you for using this machine." Before she could finish, I inserted myself
. Because there was no lid, I grabbed her body and started thrusting. She moaned, and I made her continue
playing the machine.

She kept saying in rhythm with me, "Welcome, welcome, thank you for using, welcome, thank you..." She started
to speak incoherently, as if the machine had been infected with a virus... Because there was a box in between, there was still room each time I entered,
the cardboard box thumping... Finally, she couldn't hold back her orgasm.

When I let her out, I saw a dark ring of water stains on the inside of the box near her buttocks, emitting a lewd smell.
Coins were scattered in the basin below, and another basin contained a yellowish liquid that had splashed out; she
had lost control of . When the child kicked the box, the tension caused her to urinate involuntarily. Later,
when I touched it with my finger, she panicked and ejaculated even more profusely.

After taking her to the bathroom and cleaning her up, she and I had sex again, then we ate dinner downstairs,
but it was already late-night…

I didn't let her stay overnight; I sent her back to the hotel arranged by the company.

We were both very satisfied with this time; it felt more intense and exciting than the last time. However, it was also because…
After the first time, I understood her better, so I was able to develop a more suitable plan.

Case 5: Inflatable Doll Training

The subject was still the HR manager from the foreign company in "The Dining Table" and "The Vending Machine."

A brief introduction: We met online; she's a 38-year-old HR manager from a foreign company. Because she's very assertive, she often
complains about not getting psychological and emotional satisfaction. She wants to avoid attention and wants to show her vulnerable side.

The meeting ended in the afternoon the next day, and then she called me. She said she missed me.

I asked her if she missed me or wanted to be tormented by me, but she didn't answer.

I said if she didn't want to be tormented, I'd hang up; I didn't have time to argue with her.

She still didn't answer.

Just as I was about to hang up, she spoke, saying she wanted to come see me.

I asked her why she wanted to see me.

She whispered, "Do whatever you want. "

I said, "It's not like I'm asking you to come; why do you say I want to do whatever you want? It's like I'm begging you to come."

She hurriedly defended herself, stammering.

I said, sounding a little impatient, "If you keep this up, I'm really going to hang up."

She finally mustered the courage to say, "I want you to do me."

Well, that was a first step, I guess. I didn't press her for more, telling her to find somewhere to sit and
I'd come over after work, or she could book a room first. She agreed.

After work, I called her. She said she'd already booked a room. So I took the subway to her.

On the subway, I called McDonald's and ordered three hamburgers, four pairs of spicy wings, a large bag
of fries a Coke. I left the address of her room. Then I called her to tell her I'd ordered takeout and
would pay when it arrived. I also specifically told her I liked my coffee table, and then
hung up before she could say anything. Forty minutes later, I arrived at the hotel, knocked on the door, and she timidly asked, "Who is it?"

I said, "Can't you see for yourself?"

The door opened slowly.

I was about to yell at her for being so slow. Seeing her obediently kneeling on the floor,
with , I realized she had crawled over to open the door. I said, "You're really fucking shameless."

She didn't say a word.

I went into the room and closed the door, taking off my clothes as I went. She crawled into the room little by little,
carefully making sure not to drop anything. When she got to the bed, I picked up the Coke from the bedside table and took a big gulp. "Why
are you crawling so slowly? Hurry up, there's no place to put the Coke." She crawled over quickly, and I
put her back, burped, and then picked up a hamburger and started eating.

I finished two hamburgers in one go, drank the Coke, and then kicked her with my foot. "Eat first, then
I'll play with you." She obediently took a chicken wing, and before eating it, she reached out to offer me some, asking if I wanted some, which I refused.

After eating two pairs of chicken wings and drinking a little Coke, she elegantly wiped her mouth with a napkin and
knelt back on the floor.

"You slut," I said, sitting high on the bed, looking down at her.

"Hmm?" She looked up at me. 　　"How do you want me to play

with you today? " 　　"Do whatever you want." "Don't you have any ideas?" 　　"I don't know." 　　"Think about what else you want. You're going back tomorrow, don't regret it later." 　　She thought seriously for a moment and said, "I want to be played with like a toy, without my own thoughts, like a rag doll, lifeless, being played with by my master." I pondered this for a moment. This request was simple, but it lacked interaction, which reduced the fun. How should I resolve this? I quickly came up with an idea. 　　"Wait here for me, I'm going out to buy some things, I'll be right back." 　　"Okay." She knelt on the ground obediently. 　　I got dressed, took out my door card, went downstairs, went to the newsstand by the roadside, and bought several newspapers: Xinmin, Evening News, and Morning News. I 　　went upstairs, entered the room, inserted my door card, took off my clothes, went to the bathroom to get a large bath towel, spread it on the side of the bed, and pushed her down onto the towel, face up. 　　I sat on the edge of the bed, placing my feet on her stomach and chest, playing with them while flipping through the newspaper . I flipped through it very quickly. 　　She didn't know what I was looking at; I was constantly searching for small ads in the margins, looking for radio service ads. 　　Finally, I found an ad for an "emotional chat room" in the margins of the evening paper. 　　I stood up, helped her onto the bed, and told her, "I'm going to make a call. Whatever , you have to do the corresponding action, understand?" She nodded, though somewhat confused. 　　I put it on speakerphone, dialed the number on the ad, music played… then a voice prompt said, "Press 1 for the lobby , press 2 for the private room." I pressed 2, and it connected quickly. A girl answered, greeted me, and then we chatted. 　　I went straight to the point, asking if we could talk about private topics. 　　The girl said, "What kind of private topics?" 　　I said, "Things related to sex." 　　The girl said, "Oh, you're so naughty! I'm still young, and so on," and then said, " Can't we just chat? I can sing for you." 　　I said no and hung up. "Try another one." 　　She said in a coquettish voice, "Oh, don't be in such a hurry. How about this, you call my colleague. She's very experienced. And she's pretty too." 　　I said, "You can transfer her." 　　She said, "No, company calls can't be transferred. You have to redial this number, and once just dial 117..." 　　I quickly hung up. Almost 10 minutes had passed. I'd only ever heard of voicemail services trying to trick you into chatting longer, but today I witnessed it firsthand. 　　I redialed the number, dialed 117, and the call connected. It was a very seductive voice, probably a mature woman. Her voice was slightly husky and somewhat magnetic, with a nasal tone. "Hello~" I said, "Can we talk about sex?" 　　She giggled, "Oh, you're really impatient. You want to talk about sex without even introducing yourself?" 　　I said, "Do you have a cold?" 　　She said, "Why do you ask?" 　　I said, "Your voice sounds very nasal."

She: I just woke up, just took a shower. My skin is so smooth.

Then we started chatting on the phone, and while we were talking, I was touching the woman next to me (to distinguish them,
the voice call girl is called Lin, and the real woman is called Di)

. Di remained silent, keeping to herself, letting me touch and play with her. The conversation with Lin was getting better and better.

Lin: I'm touching myself down there now, it's all wet, ah. I pinched Di, and Di
started touching herself as Lin said.

Me: My dick is hard, I really want to fuck you.

Lin: Then come on, I want to have sex with you too.

Me: How do you want me to do it?

Lin: You're so naughty, I'm not a weak woman, you can't just do whatever you want.

Me: I like you to lie on your stomach, and I'll fuck you from behind.

Lin: You're so good at this, I like it like this.

Me: Then lie down properly.

Lin: I stood up, turned around, and lay on the bed. Di followed Lin's instructions and got into position accordingly.

Me: Lying down is boring, you need to stick your butt out so I can fuck you while playing with your nipples.

Lin: You're so naughty and playful, I'm going to be played to death by you.

Di also sticks her butt out.

Me: I'm going to spank your butt. Lin: You're so naughty.

I slapped Di's butt. Lin: What are you doing?

Me: I'm spanking your butt.

Lin: Hmm. Me: Spread your butt open so I can see your little pussy. Lin: I spread my little pussy open with my hands, isn't it beautiful
?

Di reached out and spread her labia.

I looked and said: Beautiful, such a beautiful pussy, I can't help but want to fuck it.

Lin: Then fuck me, my little pussy is so itchy.

Me: I'll use the head of my dick on your pussy. I rub my mouth back and forth, you're so wet.

I said while rubbing Dee's vaginal opening.

Dee twitched.

Lin: You are so annoying. Come in quickly.

Me: Coming.

He said as he thrust deep into Dee. Di suppressed the pleasure and remained silent. On the other hand, Lin on the other side of the phone started
screaming obscenely. Talking and describing. I kept changing positions and
angles . The sound of collisions like a violent storm passed through.

Lin: What's the sound? Where are you?

Me: I’m fucking you.

Lin: No, what exactly is that sound?

Me: I’m talking to you on the phone and fucking an inflatable doll at the same time. Listen.

I brought the phone closer and fucked it hard, making a popping sound.

Lin: Is it true?

Me: Why are you lying to me? This inflatable doll can't make a sound, so I called you to play with her. I
thought she was you.

Lin: You really know how to play. Haha, is that thing expensive?

Me: It’s not too expensive, it’s okay.

Lin: Is it easy to use?

Me: Very good, little b It's quite tight, and when I'm doing it, the water inside leaks out, but it doesn't
make a sound.

At this point, Di seemed quite excited; the water increased, and her vagina became very hot.

Me: Let's keep going.

Lin: Yeah, haven't you been doing it all along? My vagina feels so good being stretched.

We talked like this while doing it, and I quickly climaxed, spraying all my semen inside Di.
She told me this when we first met.

When I ejaculated, Di also came, her vaginal opening tightly gripping me, expanding suddenly. What was
originally enveloping me suddenly felt like a spacious hall. As I ejaculated, my penis
bounced up and down with each spurt, touching her vagina, but then pulling away when it contracted. The feeling of being close yet distant was very
comfortable.

Lin: Was it comfortable?

Me: Yes, how could such a sexy woman like you not make me feel good?

Lin: You're so naughty.

After chatting for a while, I pulled my penis out of Di's vagina.

Me: I'm going to hang up now and go wash the doll.

Lin: You have to call me again if you want to play with it later. Me: Of course.

After hanging up the phone, I helped Dila up and made her stand on the bed. I lay on my side, admiring her beautiful body. Her
face was flushed. She seemed a little flustered. After a while, she started to bleed, and I scooped some up and casually wiped it on her chest and
face. Then I dragged her, who was frowning, to the bathroom to wash up.

Later, she said it was so exciting, it felt strange, but she couldn't suppress her excitement. I told her very seriously: "
Because you're sexy, haha...

I really like this kind of story. I wish I could meet a woman like that in real life." I haven't read this story! I also want to train a girl like that! So cool! The story is original, the author's imagination is rich, and the psychological descriptions are quite accurate. So much fun! I wish I could have a woman like that. I have to admire the author's writing style, which is quite fantastical and deviates from normal human cognition. The author still needs to work harder, but I support originality. Both the perpetrator and the victim are having a blast! So much fun! I wish I could have a woman like that. I have to admire the author. This is quite interesting and realistic. The author has a good imagination, but I don't know if stories like this are really that exciting. I wish there were women like that in real life. I used to read a lot of SM novels and found them very exciting. It's a pity I've never seen real-life SM. Can women in the virtual world be like that? I think either the woman is psychologically unstable or the author is fantasizing too much.

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