Likes bondage

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

I'm a student in my early twenties. As I get older, I've discovered a terrible tendency: a growing liking for bondage. Ever since that one time I had a sexual encounter with my older sister, I feel an inexplicable urge whenever I see bondage.

My sister is beautiful, voluptuous, quiet, and rarely smiles.

She's a manager for a large foreign company in China.

I often go to her house whenever I have time off, and we live together. Because of our personalities, we often go for days without saying a word.

During a holiday, I went to my sister's house wearing my favorite short skirt and knee-high leather boots. She was home alone that morning, bored, so she went downstairs, bought a few bottles of wine, had a drink, and got drunk.

Late at night, the sound of the door opening woke her up. "You've been drinking?" It was my younger sister. "I haven't drunk in years. I had one drink and then fell asleep."

I sat down, and my sister gently lifted my head, stroking my long hair.

She hugged me from behind, and I just trembled without reacting. We stood there motionless for a few minutes, and then my sister helplessly let go of me.

"I'm sorry," she cried.

I was at a loss. "Come on, to my room," my sister said. I followed her to her bedroom, where she drew the curtains. I was lying face down on the bed. My sister pulled my hands behind my back and tied them tightly with the belt of her robe. I didn't struggle, just jokingly said, "You call this...?"

Unexpectedly, that one sentence ignited my sister's sadistic desires. She opened the bedside table drawer, took out a large roll of white rope, parted my hair with her hands, folded the rope in half, and tied it around my neck, passing it under my armpits. She untied the belt that had been binding my hands. It was too late for me to struggle. My sister sat on my buttocks and tightly wrapped the rope around my arms again, pulling hard. I cried out in pain.

"Don't scream!" my sister harshly scolded.

"Gently, okay?...It hurts...it hurts, my arm is broken..."

My sister ignored my groans and continued to wrap the rope around my arms, tightening it from time to time. The pain brought tears to my eyes. My sister didn't stop. She pulled my hands as close to my shoulders as possible and tied them tightly, binding them so tightly that the veins on my hands bulged. She wasn't finished yet. She took the remaining two ropes, threaded one through my neck, pulled it tightly back to my wrists, and re-tied my hands with the other end. The pain made me scream like a pig being slaughtered.

My sister grabbed a pillowcase and stuffed it into my mouth.

"Don't scream!"

I felt a strange pleasure. I knew before that some people enjoyed sadomasochism, and that they could only derive pleasure from tying up their lovers.

I neither liked nor objected to it. I had played blindfolded games with my ex-boyfriend, but never bondage. When my sister first tied me up, I felt humiliated and wanted to struggle desperately, but my sister had incredible strength. Soon, I was bound like a dumpling, unable to move at all.

I spat out the pillowcase my sister had stuffed into my mouth and groaned loudly.

My mind went blank. I didn't know why I felt such pleasure. Was I a masochist? I was terrified, yet I was also so attached to the ropes binding me. I didn't like the process of being tied up; I only liked the feeling of being bound. My sister took another rope and tied my chest up, my breasts bound high. I really didn't know why I liked the feeling of being tied up so much.

"Help me up," I struggled to say.

"What are you doing?"

"To the mirror. I want to see myself."

My sister helped me up to the dressing table. My sister's dressing table was the really big kind. In the mirror, my beautiful face, bound hand and foot, was slightly flushed.

"Do you like it?" my sister asked. "It hurts a lot, though."

"It's okay, it'll go numb soon."

My sister struggled to lift me onto the dressing table so I could lie on my back. My hands, bound behind my back, were already numb. This way, I could see the whole process of being bound by tilting my head. My sister used two ropes to tie my thighs, then tightly bound them to my chest, tucking my calves back onto my thighs. At this point, I was almost a ball of flesh. My sister then roughly shoved my head between my knees, which were bound to my chest. With such cruel binding, I could hardly breathe. As the pleasure arose, I felt like I was going to suffocate, but I didn't want to ask my sister to untie me so soon. I wanted to experience this cruel feeling again.

When I woke up, I found my body covered in wounds, and the ropes my sister used to bind me were scattered all over the bed. I casually played with the white ropes, gently rubbing them against the wounds from my bindings.

"Little beauty, you felt pretty good just now, didn't you?" My sister slapped my bare bottom. "I'm going to punish you properly."

I obediently rolled over and put my hands behind my back. My sister started to tie me up. As she became more skilled at tying me up, I began to groan in the ropes. My sister was quite fond of aesthetics. She only wanted to tie my hands behind my back and bind them tightly, and tie my legs together side by side, so that my body would appear more slender. My sister stroked my bound body.

Then my sister brought over a feather duster. "What are you doing?" I asked. "To hit you."

"Why?"

"Fine, I'll make you suffer enough." My sister viciously grabbed the feather duster. "First, gag me."

My sister went back to the bathroom and got the underwear she had taken off yesterday. "No!... Waaah... Waaah..." When I realized my sister was going to gag me with the underwear, I was really scared. My sister ignored my desperate struggles on the bed, took off her underwear, pried open my mouth, and forcefully stuffed it in. She then used a short rope to tightly tie my mouth shut, so I couldn't spit out the underwear that was stuffed in my mouth no matter what I did.

My sister was trembling. She whipped me desperately, and I got great satisfaction from the rain of blows. My sister was indescribably excited. I, such a beautiful girl, had become her slave so easily. My own bondage and abuse aroused such sexual desire in her. I had already rolled off the bed onto the floor, but my sister was still chasing after me, waving the feather duster. I saw my sister's face as I rolled around.

My sister rested for a long time, then reached out and untied the rope binding the back of my head, removing the underwear from my mouth.

She helped me up and onto the bed. My hands were still bound behind my back, but she bound my chest. My legs were simply crossed and bound at the ankles, pulled back, and tied to the rope around my hands. In this way, I was bound forever like a bow.

I am

a pretty, youthful girl, 20 years old this year.

I have long, flowing black hair; I'm quite a beauty.

One day, I was wearing a t-shirt, a short skirt, and high-top black boots that went past my knees and thighs,

paired with flesh-colored stockings.

My sister once again forced me to come to our place to play bondage. In her room, she turned on the light and drew the curtains.

My eyes were a little wet.

My sister lit a cigarette, her hands trembling slightly.

I felt like I was in a dream, breathing with difficulty.

Today, I didn't resist at all, almost completely still as she bound me.

Even when the rope hurt, I only swayed in pain and let out a soft groan.

In the dim light, with my arms tightly bound, I was forced to arch my back, my high breasts revealing the alluring curves of a woman.

"Do you really like this?" my sister asked softly. "Now, do whatever you want."

The first thing my sister did was to gag me with a towel.

Bright sunlight streamed through the curtains into the cozy little house.

After the frenzy and passion, my hands were bound behind my back. I was wearing a t-shirt, a short skirt, and thigh-high stockings.

My hair was disheveled, my eyes were dark-circled, and my delicate skin was covered in bruises and swellings.

I never dreamed I could be so perverse and barbaric.

For what seemed like an entire day, I was tightly bound, forced to endure the abuse in agony, shamefully submitting to all sorts of shallowness and ravaging.

Everything I'd heard and imagined was even more stimulating and terrifying.

Yet, in this helpless submission, in this futile struggle with my hands bound behind my back, I felt not only humiliation and pain, but also a torrent of unrestrained sorrow.

I had no regrets about my choice.

Tears welled in my eyes.

Because being bound for so long, untying me was incredibly painful.

I wanted to cry my heart out.

Seeing the deep grooves left by the ropes binding my slender arms, I whispered, "You know, sister, you're a pervert."

My sister's face darkened.

She replied roughly, "Stop talking nonsense, or I'll kill you, you brat."

The small room fell silent, eerily quiet.

My sister told me that she liked girls wearing a t-shirt, a short skirt, and knee-high stockings.

She liked to tie them up, turning them into lowly female slaves and prisoners. And now, I also enjoyed being bound, tortured, and humiliated by my sister.

My sister snapped an electrical cord, twisted it into a thin whip, and gagged me with a towel.

The dimly lit room echoed with the crisp sound of the whip striking flesh.

I futilely twisted my supple waist, my slender body stiffening, my snow-white skin marked with crimson and purplish welts, uttering indistinct whimpers.

The burning pain pierced through my internal organs.

I couldn't help but cry, unsure whether it was from the pain or the humiliation.

Through my disheveled hair, I saw my pale body convulsing, my vision blurring.

The pain grew clearer and sharper.

My mind became increasingly hazy.

I awoke to find myself lying in bed, my body burning with the sting of whip marks, my hands bound behind my back, and my vicious older sister sitting beside me.

She stroked my hair, muttering incoherently, tears glistening in my cloudy eyes.

She then used a thin rope, about the thickness of a little finger, to tie my wrists tightly, binding my hands behind my back, and then bound my body with horizontal lines across my breasts.

She said it was a Japanese method of bondage.

I sat on the edge of the bed, like a young woman kidnapped by bandits in ancient times, having endured too much manipulation, numb and submissive to everything, helplessly lowering my eyes, my hands behind my back, silently allowing myself to be bound.

I felt a wave of dizziness. My lips moved a few times, but I said nothing. Only when the rope tightened did I involuntarily sway slightly, gazing resentfully at my toes.

Tears silently blurred my vision.

My knee-high boots were tightly bound together.

The rope, tangled in a mess, constricted my ankles.

I didn't know what to do. While I

was still hesitating and dazed, my hands were already firmly tied behind my back. It was too late to resist. My upper body, arms, and feet were tightly bound by the rope. I sat on the edge of the bed with my head down, completely at my sister's mercy.

At that moment, I surrendered myself to my sister once again.

My sister hugged me from behind, pulling me into her arms before I could even utter a sound. My lips were sealed with a hot, wet kiss.

Through my clothes, my hands were bound behind my back, and my feet were tied together. I had no way to hide or defend myself, no way to escape. Despite my immense shame, I had no choice but to endure the torrent of passionate kisses and lewd acts.

Long-suppressed sorrow was released with a joyful outpouring of pain and humiliation.

Tears welled in my eyes.

Then my sister pushed me down onto a chair, tied my hands behind my back, bound my shoulders and arms tightly with hemp rope, and gagged me with a towel and tape.

I obediently allowed

myself to be bound, without struggling. At that moment, I was not only tightly bound, but my full breasts were also constricted, standing erect and protruding, their high, alluring curves still visible despite the clothing covering my chest.

A strand of disheveled hair hung in front of my eyes.

My hands were bound behind my back, and I couldn't brush away the stray hair.

My sister showed no mercy, tightening each rope forcefully, digging deep into my flesh, each knot securely fastened, making escape impossible no matter how hard I struggled.

I felt a tightness in my chest, my whole body constricted, as if my body no longer belonged to me.

My feet were also tightly bound.

Soon, I was carried to the bed, face down, my bound hands and feet tied together, groaning incoherently, unable to move.

Looking at me, bound so tightly, my sister suddenly felt a surge of emotion.

Lying on the bed, I cried.

I had struggled desperately, twisting my wrists, trying to break free of the ropes, but the more I struggled, the tighter they dug into my skin, making my hands and feet feel welded together, my arms and legs increasingly aching and numb, an unbearable torture, every second feeling like death. Now

, I had given up the futile struggle.

My cheeks, bulging from being stuffed with towels, were already numb and stiff.

I was unable to move freely or call for help, forced to endure this torment.

For a frail girl, this prolonged binding was truly cruel.

I sobbed helplessly, feeling the growing weight of resentment and pain, feeling the terror of a young

woman in a t-shirt, a short skirt, and knee-high stockings, bound and imprisoned, willingly subjected to torture .

Crystal tears streamed down my delicate cheeks.

I didn't know if I was imagining things, but I hoped there was some truth to it; at least for me, being bound and tortured was not simply a matter of pain and humiliation.

"God, am I going crazy?" I thought desperately.

I felt my hands stiff and numb from the bindings, my heavy body unable to move, my arms stretched straight and my legs, bound with heavy weights, straining so much they felt like they were about to tear my ribs apart. Even the slightest movement caused waves of excruciating pain.

The towel stuffed into my mouth bulged my cheeks, silencing my sorrowful cries.

My sister stood happily in front of me.

"I'm going to give you twenty lashes to vent my anger," she said with a grin.

The water-soaked leather whip lashed hard across my body, making dull cracking sounds. Crimson and purplish welts rose on my snow-white skin, eliciting muffled moans.

My sister's whipping was merciless.

I felt the pain had reached its peak. This

whole

thing was orchestrated by my sister.

Strictly speaking, I was also quite surprised.

But this surprise hit me hard.

A fantasy buried deep within my true nature for a long time awakened, was released, and became real during this unexpected event, even though I was in excruciating pain at the time.

Time has passed, the pain has faded, but this incident has become a permanent part of my life.

Simply put, I like bondage.

I'm a 20-year-old art student, and I'm fairly good-looking.

I'm 170cm tall with long hair. It was early winter, and my sister invited me to her house to keep her company since I had no classes. I left home that morning wearing a short skirt, a t-shirt, and my favorite kind of over-the-knee leather boots.

When we arrived at my sister's house, we chatted, and for some reason, we started laughing and joking around.

My sister, during a playful fight, said to me, "Let's play a game. She wants to tie me up with a rope." I was surprised and said, "Sister, how can you be so perverted?" My sister suddenly got angry.

I didn't mean to provoke her. She started ignoring me, and feeling bored, I lay down on her bed in her bedroom. After sitting for a while, she left the bedroom.

At that moment, I didn't know that I was about to be tied up; I didn't want to admit it then, perhaps I genuinely didn't realize it.

A little while later, my sister came back into the bedroom with her hands behind her back. She pounced on me, pinning me down. First, she grabbed my legs, and I struggled fiercely. Then she began to try to break down any attempt to restrain me.

But I still fought hard.

My hands were the first to be grabbed and twisted behind my back, unable to move at all.

But my legs were temporarily free, so I kicked wildly and aimlessly, trying to subdue my sister, who cursed angrily. To kick out another leg, I had to pull it back, but her legs were immediately clamped tightly.

Although the symbolic meaning of this struggle far outweighed the actual physical harm, I believe this struggle was necessary for me as I was about to be bound, because this declaration of unyieldingness actually gave me a kind of tragic enjoyment.

The noisy struggle lasted for two minutes, during which my sister gagged me with her underwear.

Ultimately, my sister rendered me completely incapable of resistance.

My arms were twisted behind my back, I was forced face down on the bed, and every part of my body was pressed down.

My sister took out a rope. She

began to tie me up.

She immediately bound me tightly, the rope digging sharply down my shoulders and beginning to move along my arms.

She hurriedly tied me up for a while.

When the first rope tightened around my neck, she didn't feel much, because the pressure from my sister pressing down on my body had already desensitized me. But then the rope gradually tightened, binding my body more and more tightly.

Gradually, the pressure from pressing me down was no longer the main pressure; the pressure began to come primarily from the rope! The pressure became clear, thorough, fierce, seemingly coming from all directions, seemingly not just physical… In disintegrating me, the rope was far more effective than my sister pressing down on me; I no longer struggled.

Surprisingly, my sister didn't pull the rope binding my hands up through the loop at the back of my neck.

Reassuringly, she had another scheme.

She tied my legs together at the ankles and then looped the rope around my crossed hands.

Clearly, she was going to tie me up like a horse with its hooves tucked behind its back.

At this moment, with my face down, being manipulated, I wasn't as discerning as I am; I didn't know what my sister was doing behind my back.

Although I had no intention of resisting, I didn't cooperate by pulling my hands back and my feet forward.

Then, my sister, freed from my task, pulled the rope upwards again.

Her strength quickly overcame my body's natural resistance, binding my hands and feet together.

Then, she even found a stocking and unhesitatingly tied it to my mouth, which was covered by my underwear.

My instinctive reaction was to say no, but obviously I couldn't, because my underwear was stuffed too deep, almost touching my throat.

After my sister had tied me up in a tight knot, she put me on the ground and left the bedroom.

The helpless struggle was incredibly sexy for both the binder and the bound.

I started trying to break free of the ropes.

I'd seen it many times in movies; protagonists breaking free of ropes was common, and it always looked so easy that it would be a shame not to.

But my sister, who was tying me up, was far more dedicated than those mediocre directors. I quickly realized it was an impossible task; no matter how I twisted and turned, the ropes binding me didn't budge an inch.

At that moment, I noticed a sharp corner of a cabinet about four or five meters away.

I tried to move towards it.

But my wrists felt a sharp pain from the pull on my legs, while my legs simultaneously felt the weight of my upper body, a weight that even pulled painfully on all the muscles in my thighs.

The weight on my upper and lower body made me suffer terribly; for the first time, I realized my body could be so contradictory.

I leaned my legs forward and stretched my arms back, trying to relieve the pressure on each other, while simultaneously inching closer to the corner of the cabinet.

By the tenth minute, I had moved about 10 centimeters, but I was already exhausted.

Sweat poured out faster and faster; by the twentieth minute, I was drenched in sweat, not a single part of my body was dry, including my socks.

I remember wearing flesh-colored stockings that day; I'd looked back at my bound hands and feet so many times that I remembered.

The world began to buzz, and I felt my breathing was frighteningly loud, and later even breathing became difficult.

Anxiety and despair intertwined, squeezing a hot pressure into my lower abdomen; I began to feel the urge to urinate.

I deeply regretted discovering my urge, but forgetting was impossible.

This discovery finally terrified me, and I cried.

Excruciating pain, excruciating pain throughout my body, but what terrified me even more was the ever-increasing urge to urinate.

It was impossible to endure so much pain and fear at the same time; I knew I was crying, but I didn't know if I could make a sound, or if I could shed tears.

At that moment, a vulgar description became so apt: every second felt like an eternity.

The worst thing happened in the thirtieth minute.

I collapsed.

A stream of urine burst forth, releasing the last vestige of my dignity.

All the pressure vanished in an instant, and in the sudden relief and emptiness, I mentally cried out, "It's over."

The feeling of death, for that fleeting moment, seemed to bring me a strange sense of pleasure.

I knew I would never want to see my own face at that instant—a face contorted in a grotesque, distorted expression.

Because my mouth, stuffed with cloth, was wide open, because of the gritted teeth from enduring the pain and urinating, because of the disappointment, shock, regret, humiliation, dizziness, and final detachment all woven together, my face became unrecognizable and grotesque.

After a brief blank, all the pain returned, and at this moment I felt like a corpse, and corpses are not so afraid of pain.

The pain was still there, but it seemed to belong to someone else.

About forty minutes later, my sister, who had bound me, returned.

I no longer hoped for her return.

Time had lost its meaning for a corpse, and so had dignity.

Like a real zombie, I allowed my sister to untie me, though I remained bound for several minutes afterward.

Covered in my own sweat, tears, urine, and snot, I no longer knew how to use my body.

My sister didn't remove the underwear from my mouth, but a few minutes later, when I could move on my own, she took it out.

The underwear was completely wet, and the end that had been inserted into my throat was covered in sour, foul-smelling mucus.

Several months have passed since I was bound. Only after the pain and humiliation subsided did I begin to savor the pleasure contained within that extreme suffering.

I even started discussing the "four-horse reindeer" binding method and its advantages with my sister. Binding

felt like a spell cast upon me; I stumbled upon it by accident and couldn't escape it.

It's my nature, so natural it needs no explanation.

I really didn't like the pain involved, yet... I'm a pretty young woman, 170cm tall, 46kg, and 20 years old. My long, black hair reaches my shoulders, and my fair skin, combined with my individually striking features, makes me quite the beauty. I 'm currently an art university student. One day during my vacation, I was wearing a red t-shirt, a short skirt, and knee-high stockings. My sister invited me to the busiest commercial district in the city center to buy seasonal clothes. We went into a trendy clothing store and wandered around the fashionable women's wear section, browsing. She looked around. There wasn't a single style she liked. The clothes her sister liked probably didn't even exist in the world. The kind she wanted was definitely different; it had to be adorned with lots of embellishments, have many novel designs, and most importantly, be something rarely worn. Finally, she spotted a pair of black capri pants. She tried them on, and they fit perfectly. After buying the pants, she headed straight for a shoe store across the street. There were many women's high-heeled sandals there. She went into a women's shoe boutique. There were many women's high heels—high heels, strappy sandals, thin-strap shoes, and platform shoes. Row after row, all the way to the ceiling. She was stunned. So many shoes, which pair would fit? Just then, a saleswoman came up to her and said, "Miss, are you looking to buy a pair of shoes? Then you've come to the right place. We have the most shoes in the entire shoe market. Look at these styles, they're all the latest designs this year. I guarantee you'll be satisfied, you'll definitely like them." Her sister found this intriguing. Thinking to myself, "Could it be that I've really found the right place? Okay, I'll pick out a pair of shoes I like here. " "I see you have so many styles of shoes, so please help me choose one!" The saleswoman felt halfway to the sale after hearing this, thinking, "I'll make sure this beautiful lady leaves satisfied." She then picked out a pair of shoes near the checkout counter. These shoes had thin straps and heels, with red straps woven into flowers and tied to the black sole. The back straps rose up from both sides of the heel, wrapping around a red lace. You've probably seen them before; the design was quite ordinary, but the red flower tied at the front was undeniably fashionable. So we bought them, took the packaged shoes, and left the shoe store. It had already been a whole morning. So we hurried home, but this young and cheerful girl was about to suffer a tragic fate at my sister's house. When we arrived at my sister's house, I immediately lay down on the bed; my sister had exhausted me that morning. My sister quickly poured me a glass of water. Then my sister said to me, "Little sister, do me a favor." I was surprised. My sister asked if I knew about bondage. I was stunned; I didn't quite understand what my sister meant. My sister continued, "I only abuse girls. Especially beautiful, pretty, and young girls. I don't think anyone can compare to you in this regard, but you're my sister. I just can't bring myself to do it. So I can only watch when you're particularly excited, like finding an opportunity to abuse you for a while. Actually, what I want most is to abuse you. But I just can't bring myself to do it. What I 'm most afraid of is that you won't agree, which would be worse. I can tell you all this because I don't want to hide anything from you anymore. I have no need to hide anything. " Hearing this, the fear in my heart was about to explode. My body trembled uncontrollably. The more I trembled, the more afraid I became, and the more afraid I became, the more I trembled. I looked at my sister with a hint of fear and said, "Then... then what are you going to do to me?" My sister said, "Nothing much. You're my sister; what can I do to you? I'm just discussing this with you, hoping you can accept everything about me and help me treat this illness. " My sister's expression had a slightly sinister smile. "I quickly said, 'How do you treat me? Tell me. Where should I go to find a doctor to help you?' My sister smiled bitterly and said, 'No need for a doctor. You can cure me. Just let me torture you a few times, and I think I'll get better.' 'Torture me? No way. Let's forget it.' My sister still negotiated with me in a very gentle tone: 'Good sister, just once. I promise I won't hurt you. Okay?' I softened and said, 'Okay, just once. I have a condition. You can't use tools to hurt me, or I'll make you regret it.' 'Okay. Okay. If you don't want to, then what are we waiting for? Let's start!' Although I agreed, I really didn't know what torture was like, what constituted torture, or to what extent. I didn't even know what SM was. I was really unsure. I was a little scared. So my sister took out her tools for me. My sister said, 'Okay, sister, all the tools for you are ready.'"

"Let's begin!" My sister pulled me onto a wooden stool.

The stool was barely big enough for my feet, and I was standing on it in my high-heeled boots.

It felt strange,

like I was about to be executed.

I immediately got off and said to my sister, "Sister, don't make me stand on it, I feel very uncomfortable."

But my sister wanted me to feel that way. "

You look beautiful standing on it, quickly go up and put your feet together, that will look very pretty."

I didn't object, but stood on it again, feeling a little humiliated.

I put my feet tightly together.

Because I was facing my sister,

I didn't need to be shy.

I was just waiting for my sister to begin torturing my body.

Poor me, I had no idea how badly I was going to suffer.

I stood on the stool, my sister admiring my body to her heart's content.

After she had admired me enough, she said, "The first step in abusing you is to tie you up." I couldn't take it anymore; tying myself up was truly unbearable. But since

I had already agreed, I had no choice but to comply.

I stood trembling on the stool, thinking, "Well, I've come this far anyway. "

It wouldn't be right to break my promise to my sister.

Let her torment me however she wants; I can't really say no, since she can't do anything to me anyway. After all,

I'm her sister.

I said, "Tie me up, just don't hurt me.

" My sister brought out a long rope and told me to put my hands behind my back.

I was really obedient now.

I did whatever she told me to do.

My sister crossed my wrists and tied them together, then pulled them upwards to my elbows.

She tied my elbows up tightly, and I cried out, "

Ouch...it hurts.

Be gentle!

" My sister ignored me and stuffed a pair of underwear into my mouth, then tied a stocking over my mouth. She

just pulled my elbows firmly towards the middle, then pulled the rope upwards, tied a knot behind my neck, and then wrapped the rope around my neck to my chest. She

tied another knot above my breasts.

Then she pulled the rope to the left and right.

She wrapped the rope around behind me, pulled, and tightly bound my elbows to my body.

It really hurt, but I didn't make a sound; I just endured it.

She knew that making a sound wouldn't help.

Since my sister had already found pleasure, she wouldn't let me go.

After binding the rope behind my back, she wrapped it around my back and chest several times, finally tying a knot behind my back. Then she pulled it down to my forearms, tied another knot there, and then wrapped it around that point several times below my breasts and behind my back.

Finally, she tied

it tightly behind my back. My breasts were squeezed and protruded by the two ropes.

My elbows and forearms were also tightly bound to my body, leaving no room for my upper body.

Not satisfied, my sister used the remaining rope to wrap it around my back to my navel, tied a knot, and pulled it downwards.

Because I kept my legs tightly together, my sister couldn't pull me over. She told me to spread my legs a little, and after I did, she pulled the rope through the middle to my back and tied it together with my crossed hands in a knot.

This secured my lower body as well. My sister then pulled the rope to a wooden beam on the roof and pulled it down

, securing me to the beam so I couldn't come down.

Next, she tied my thighs together, binding them horizontally and then wrapping them vertically several times, finally forming a figure-eight shape.

Next, she tied my calves and ankles into the same figure-eight shape.

At this point, my entire body was tightly bound.

My sister went to the side, drank a beverage, and then admired her handiwork.

Those prominent breasts, that slightly upturned buttocks...

she was truly amazed. She wondered how she could have found such a perfect girl to be her slave; it was truly fate! Thank God!

With such good conditions, it would be a waste not to properly torture this body that was born to be tormented.

My sister picked up a belt and began whipping my buttocks.

At first, I could bear it, but as she increased her strength, I started screaming, "

Ugh...ugh...ugh...I really can't take it anymore!

" My sister didn't care. The more I screamed, the harder she whipped me, the less sound I could make. When

she got tired, she sat down on the carpet.

After catching her breath, she resumed the second round of torture.

She came to me and pulled the wooden stool away from my feet.

I screamed again.

My body could only be supported by my hands. I tried to touch the ground with my feet, but my toes could only touch the ground; I couldn't put any weight on them.

Only then could I feel the pain in my hands.

My sister brought a candle and dripped it onto my body.

The red wax dripped onto my tender arms and thighs, causing waves of burning pain.

But I couldn't escape, because my hands and upper body were firmly suspended in mid-air.

I could only let my sister torture my poor self.

My sister dripped the wax meticulously, leaving almost no spot untouched.

Only after her arms and legs were completely covered did she release me.

"Little sister, was it comfortable?" "I kept shaking my head, please let me go, I'm dying!" My face and body were covered in sweat, seeping and dripping down.

My sister said, "Okay, I'll let you go.

But you have to promise me that from now on, whenever I say I want to torture you, you must obey, okay?"

"Okay, okay," I nodded repeatedly, indicating that I would listen to you from now on.

You can torture me whenever you want, I'll do whatever you say, please let me down."

Having achieved her goal, my sister didn't make things too difficult for me.

She then released me, but my hands and feet remained bound.

After taking me to the bathroom to wash me clean, she said, "Do you remember what you said earlier?" I was terrified and quickly said, "No, I promise you."

That night, my sister made me spend the night with her. She pulled me onto the bed and even wanted to "make up" for me. She tied my hands to the headboard and then tied my feet together.

They stuffed cotton balls into my vagina and anus, and finally my sister hung two small bells on my clothes at the chest.

Lying in bed, my sister, whose movements were restricted, said to me, "If you need anything at night, shake the bell to wake me. From now on, you must do as I say." Lying in bed, I thought about everything that had happened before and today, and tears welled up again, overcoming my grievances.

In the middle of the night, I woke up and wanted to go to the bathroom.

I propped myself up with my hands and feet, forming a bow shape.

Then I shook the bell on my chest, trying to wake my sister and ask her to untie my hands and feet.

But my sister was sleeping like a log, and I couldn't wake her no matter what I did. I was so anxious that I was sweating profusely, and I desperately shook my breasts to make a sound.

But my sister still wouldn't wake up. Finally, I kicked my sister with both feet, and that's when she woke up.

My sister got up and cursed, "Are you looking for death?

You dare to kick me? Fine, I didn't want to torture you, but you've got some strength in your legs. Today, I'll cripple you!" As she spoke, she untied the ropes binding me to the bed, grabbed my long hair with her left hand, and held the ropes that were now off the bed and tied behind my back with her right hand.

Then she pulled me upwards.

She stretched my arms tightly upwards, and my sister, afraid I'd make a sound in the middle of the night, stuffed her underwear into my mouth. I could only whimper

as my sister pulled me into the bathroom. I couldn't utter a sound. My sister locked the door from the inside. Looking at the cold bathroom, I felt less afraid, because I thought that without instruments of torture, they couldn't torment me. But I was wrong. My sister brought a rope and tied my elbows together again, very tightly, so I could only lean back. This time, my sister didn't tie my genitals. She laid me on the ground and tightly bound my thighs and calves, finally tying my ankles together. Then she brought a long, thin rope and tied my feet together, the excess rope threaded through the roof pipe and pulled downwards. After my head was pulled more than a foot off the ground, my entire body was suspended upside down, with the weight borne by Wenwen's feet. Although the boots I was wearing concentrated all the pain in my feet, I swayed wildly from side to side in agony. But the more I swayed, the more it hurt. The thin rope tightened little by little through the boots, gripping the flesh of my feet. I had just thought of urinating, and now, with all this commotion, I lost control of my bladder. Urine flowed down my genitals, running down my face and onto the floor. My sister said to Wenwen, "Look at you, you shameless slut. Urinating everywhere. Today I'm going to have some fun with you." She then took out a pen and drew several circles on my buttocks, then took out a toy slingshot, strained it, and fired a shot into my buttocks. I groaned in pain. But being suspended like that by my sister, I couldn't escape and could only let her play with my buttocks. My sister fired dozens more shots until my buttocks were swollen. But my sister still felt she had let me off easy. Then she took out the belt and began whipping my buttocks repeatedly. Each strike sent a scream through the wounds. My face, still wet with urine, streamed down my face, soaking the ground. When my sister got tired, she sat down and said to me, hanging upside down, "I'll just hang you here for today. I'm too lazy to untie the ropes." I shook my head desperately with my last bit of strength. I knew my legs were numb; if I stayed hanging all night, they'd break. After resting for a while, my sister stood up and untied the rope from the water pipe, saying, "Who told you to be my sister? If it were anyone else, I'd make you hang all night. Okay, I'm putting you down. I 'll untie the other ropes tomorrow morning. Think about it tonight. You've wronged me so much. " Then she lowered me. Most of my body was lying on my own urine. I didn't have the strength to move, so I just lay there. How pitiful I was being punished by my sister! My feet were probably purple from being bound so tightly. The rope was still biting into my flesh, and I dared not move my feet, afraid they would break. I lay on my side on the floor, bound all over, tears falling drop by drop. The toilet was dark and cold, with a slightly fishy smell in the air. I fell asleep without realizing it, because I was so exhausted. The next day, my sister helped me take a shower. After I finished, she tied my hands, which were already bound behind my back with rope, with another rope, then pulled them upwards. She also tied my elbows together. Next , she tied my neck and chest tightly. After my upper body was completely bound, she told me to sit with my back to a water pipe, and then she tied me securely to it. First, she wrapped my neck around the pipe several times and tied it tightly behind the pillar, then she wrapped my body around the pipe and tied it tightly, and finally my lower abdomen. Then my sister tied my thighs together in a figure-eight pattern. After that, she used the remaining rope to tie one strand on each side of the water pipe. This brought my thighs close to my chest, and since my thighs were raised high, they couldn't cover my genitals, so my underwear was exposed. Then my sister gagged me with my underwear and tied it with stockings to prevent me from making a sound. My sister began her torture. First, she took a toothpick from a box and stuck it into my leg. The moment she did, I saw the tendons in my leg twitch violently, and I made a whimpering sound. My sister, emboldened, quickly followed up with another toothpick. Two more, she randomly stuck toothpicks into both my legs. Sweat streamed down my face and down my chest. After that, it was time for my body and arms. My sister took a toothpick and stuck it into my left arm, then another into my right. She continued to poke every inch of my skin, chest and body, until the entire box of toothpicks was broken. My sister wasn't finished. She took out two more candles and evenly dripped the candle flames onto my exposed skin. She kept dripping until my skin was completely covered, and by then I was in a semi-conscious state from the pain. My sister said to me, "Little sister, don't blame me for being so rough. I only have one request: you have to stay home with me every day during your vacation and become my slave. Is that okay?" I was in so much pain that I had no strength left, but I still slowly shook my head. My sister said, "Alright, I'll use torture to make you agree." After saying that, my sister used the candle flames to burn my thighs. I screamed and struggled desperately. But my body was firmly fixed to the water pipe, and I couldn't move at all.

Another scream rang out.

I really couldn't take it anymore and quickly nodded, "Okay, I promise you, I promise you everything..."

My sister stood up and burst into wild laughter. She picked up the rope again and bound my upper body tightly, then passed it through my genitals and tied a knot behind my back.

Then she bound my thighs,

calves

, and ankles into a figure-eight shape, and then secured my entire body to the water pipe. Finally, my sister felt this wasn't enough, so she raised my body a little higher, so that I could only support myself on my feet.

Finally, my sister brought me a drink and made me drink it before gagling me. After I drank it, she told me before leaving, "Come back and bring me food when it's time to eat. Tonight, I'll be forced to take a bath and use the toilet."

Then she went to the bedroom.

Looking at the toilet, I felt only coldness and fear.

All the lights in the toilet shone on my body. The toilet was very quiet; I could even hear my own breathing.

I didn't know what my fate was.

It was almost noon, and my sister knew the show was about to begin.

She brought me a drink and admired her handiwork while drinking.

Soon, I started to move. I felt like annoying ants were crawling all over my body.

Some seemed to be crawling up the pipes, and some were crawling up my feet. They

seemed to want to climb up.

I thrashed about, trying to shake these ant-like things off.

But there were too many of them; it was impossible. I felt like my sister had put some kind of drug in the water.

I felt several ants had crawled up to my ankles and were still trying to climb up. If my feet and legs hadn't been firmly held... Bound, I struggled desperately to break free. My sister, watching from the bathroom doorway, laughed incessantly as my legs repeatedly curled up and then suddenly stretched out.

After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped struggling. My

legs pressed together, letting these worm-like things crawl and devour me.

My sister sensed something was wrong, thinking the drug was wearing off, and looked me over. At that moment, I felt hundreds of those nasty worms crawling

all over my neck,

breasts, and hands. They were freely using their teeth, savoring the scent of my body. I felt worms crawling on my vagina... The children had already picked up their utensils and started eating. I was gritting my teeth, struggling painfully. But the ropes were tied too tightly; I couldn't struggle at all. I could only endure the onslaught of pain. My eyes were tightly closed, my head was tilted high to the side, and beads of sweat were forming on my face… I was in so much pain that my eyes were red, and my feet were pressed tightly together. Several hours passed, and my sister finished her drink. The effects of the medication on me had largely worn off. My sister then went into the bathroom and untied me. She pulled me into the bedroom, and I felt as if my body was covered in wounds.

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