Human life

Part 1: My First Experience with SM Training

I stumbled upon SM by chance and became madly in love with it. I often fantasized about having a very domineering master, and being his submissive slave, bitch, and slut. To realize my fantasy, I spent my days browsing SM websites, and finally one day I decided to post a thread seeking a master. I immediately received many replies, and I chatted with a few people who seemed nice.

Later, a man gradually attracted me. His conversation, his knowledge, his understanding of SM, and his thoughtfulness and care all made me feel that he was the one who could help me realize my fantasy. Later, we video chatted, talked on the phone, and had several online and telephone training sessions. Finally, we decided to meet and turn our illusory passion into a real experience. He specified what I should wear to

the meeting, required me to shave my pubic hair, and insisted that I arrive at the meeting place on time.

Despite having already communicated and gotten to know each other a lot, I was still very nervous, but I had to go, because I wanted to know the real feeling of SM.

When I arrived at the agreed-upon location, a not-so-luxurious chain hotel, he was already waiting for me in the room. I knocked on the door, and he simply greeted me, his tone cold and confident. After entering the room and closing the door, he didn't invite me to sit down. Instead, he ordered me to take off my pants, first checking if I had shaved my pubic hair as he had instructed. Seeing that my vulva was no longer the hairy mess he had seen in the video, he smiled with satisfaction.

He asked me to sit down and told me that if I didn't obey his orders, he would immediately kick me out of the room. Then, he brought me a cup of steaming hot tea. I took the cup, looking at him hesitantly, not wanting to drink it, because I had heard too many stories of being drugged and raped.

He noticed my hesitation and knew what I was thinking, so he told me he would give me a drink that was absolutely free of drugs. Saying this, he ordered me to undress, then grabbed my hair and dragged me to the bathroom, ordering me to kneel in the bathtub. He unzipped his pants and started urinating on me, saying, "Drink this, it'll be fine."

The clear, warm liquid poured over my hair and cheeks, mingling with my tears of humiliation, but I felt excited. I knew I had truly met a cool master. Although I didn't open my mouth, some of the fishy liquid still flowed into it.

After being gently cleaned by my master, I was taken back to the room. He took out a thick brown rope and bound my naked body tightly. I felt my hands, which were held high behind my back, immediately go numb. The fine fibers of the brown rope pricked my delicate skin, and even the slightest movement caused a needle-like pain. Then, my nipples were clamped between large metal folders, and the piercing pain made me groan.

He made me half-lie against the headboard, raising my legs and spreading them out in an M-shape, then he leaned in and examined my lower body closely. "Tell me, how many men have you been with before and after your marriage?" He played with my labia with his fingers, then inserted two fingers into my vagina, thrusting them in and out as he asked.

"Two."

"Impossible," he said, flicking my clitoris with his finger, causing my body to involuntarily curl up. "Your labia are so large and dark, how could you have only been with two men? Tell the truth, or you'll be punished."

"Oh, I really don't remember. Except for a few special ones, I don't remember exactly how many men I've been with." Knowing he was an experienced man, I had no choice but to answer honestly.

"Let's talk about the special ones. First, tell me about your first man, you definitely remember that."

"My first man was a neighbor, an old man in his fifties, who raped me when I was 13. Then there was my first love, my college classmate, and then my husband."

"Oh, all of that was before marriage, right? What about after marriage?"

"I only remember cheating on my best man with me on our wedding night, then having sex with two of my husband's friends, and then playing the swapping game with my husband."

"Ha, you're really slutty! You've been with so many men!" Saying that, he slapped my vulva hard, making my juices splatter and causing me to scream. I thought to myself, if I wasn't slutty, how could I be tied up here and played with like this?

"In that case, I'm going to teach you a lesson. Turn over and lie face down!" Saying that, he took out a leather whip from his bag and stood behind me. "Tell me, how many men have you been with?"

"Let's say 20."

"Fine, then I'll whip you 20 times. You can count them yourself."

The whip struck my upturned buttocks repeatedly, and it really hurt. I didn't know why I had to come here to endure this stranger's toying, whipping, and verbal humiliation. Tears welled up again. But my lower body was also uncooperatively wet, and vaginal fluid flowed down my thighs.

"Alright, now you can serve me." He threw away the whip, untied the rope binding my hands, and removed the clamps from my nipples. My arms, now freed, felt a tingling, needle-like pain from the return of blood, and it took a while for me to adjust. I looked at the deep marks on my arms and the skin pierced by the fibers of the rope, and felt a pang of sadness.

Just as I was kneeling between his legs, trying to give him oral sex, my phone rang. I knew it was my husband calling because before I came to see him, I was worried something might happen, so I called him and told him I was going to meet someone I met online and asked him to call me in two hours. My husband understood what I meant and didn't ask any more questions.

Just as I got up to answer the phone, he was about to climax, so he held my head tightly to prevent me from getting up until he ejaculated all his semen into my mouth before letting go.

I hurriedly swallowed the slippery liquid, not even bothering to wipe the semen from the corner of my mouth. Just as I picked up my phone, I heard my husband's anxious voice on the other end: "Hello, what's wrong? Where are you? Why did it take you so long to answer the phone? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, don't worry, it's nothing. I just didn't hear the phone ring. I was eating, it's too noisy here. It's okay, it's okay."

"It's past 10 pm, why are you eating so late? Where are you? I'll come pick you up right away, it's getting late, you should go home." "

Oh, no need, no need, I'll be right back."

"No, I have to come pick you up. Tell me where you are?"

I know my husband's temper; his mind is not to be changed. I had no choice but to tell him the name of the hotel. After hanging up, I apologized to him, saying that I could only go this far today, and my husband was coming to pick me up.

He seemed a little nervous after hearing my words, saying that it was indeed getting late and he also needed to go home, and then quickly got up and tidied his clothes. Seeing that he didn't seem satisfied, I felt a little apologetic, so I took the initiative to kiss him, promising to make him enjoy himself properly next time. But I knew in my heart that maybe there wouldn't be a next time.

Back home, lying in my husband's arms, letting his warm hands caress my skin. He looked at the marks from being tied up on my arms, the several scrapes, the whip marks on my buttocks, and the cracked nipples, and said with heartache, "How can you not care about yourself at all? Look what he's done to you! I'm so angry!"

My head rested on my husband's chest, my hand tightly gripping his hard penis, moving it up and down, and I sighed as I replied, "I'm cheap!" (

The second part is about an office affair.

) He'd been working in our office for a few weeks, temporarily borrowed because one of the girls in our office was on maternity leave. He'd only been there a few days when he set his sights on me, always coming over to chat me up. I told my husband about it, and his assessment was: "There's always something to harass about someone who's being harassed; flies don't land on eggs without cracks." He told me to tone it down and not to cause a scene in the office.

I thought to myself, "Your wife was harassed by someone, and you're blaming her? Where's the justice?" Seeing his nonchalant attitude, as if he supported M's actions, I thought, "Fine, since you won't stand up for your wife, then I'll give you one."

Gradually, through my interactions with M, I realized he was a decent man. Although a few years younger than me, he was mature, meticulous and serious at work, and very considerate towards women. His gentle and charming manner wasn't off-putting. Of course, I knew his intentions; my body was his ultimate goal.

To respond to his teasing and harassment, I started wearing more revealing and sexy clothes to work, such as short, tight skirts, black stockings, and low-cut shirts that subtly revealed my lace bra.

M immediately noticed the change in my clothing. He approached me more frequently, often finding extremely vulgar excuses to chat by my desk and secretly peeking at my breasts through my neckline.

But, I don't know if he's just timid or if he didn't understand my feelings, several weeks passed, and he didn't make any further moves. He neither invited me out to dinner nor secretly touched my body in the office. It seems I have to be more proactive.

That day, as I walked past his desk, I deliberately tossed him a pencil. He looked up at me, and I gestured outside, indicating he should come with me. Seeing him slowly following behind me, I walked to the elevator, pointed upwards, and went in first. When we got to the top floor, I went down one floor via the fire escape and waited for him in a secluded spot.

M was quite clever; he followed me to the top floor and seemed to know I was at the fire escape. But when he entered the stairwell and didn't see me, he called out softly, "Sister Yuan."

I peeked out from downstairs and waved to him, and he quickly ran down. Without saying a word, I threw myself into his arms and said reproachfully, "Why do you keep bothering me?" He didn't answer, but just held me tightly and kissed me passionately. My tongue swirled in his mouth, while his hands vigorously kneaded my breasts. After a while, he pressed my shoulders down, and I knew what he wanted to do, so I knelt down in front of him. His back was

against the wall, his lower abdomen thrust forward, panting as he enjoyed my oral service. In just a moment, he ejaculated into my mouth. He looked down at me, quickly pulled his penis back into his pants, and said breathlessly, "Come to my place after work."

When we got to his house, I realized it was his newly renovated bridal chamber. He carried me directly to his wedding bed, telling me I was the first woman to sleep in this bed. I never imagined I'd be a bride again.

That night, he didn't let me go home, taking me again and again, from head to toe, he fucked me every inch of me. Later, I kept pestering him, not letting him sleep, until he cried out, "Good sister, please forgive me!" I asked, "Will you dare to use those lame excuses to cling to me again?" He repeatedly said, "No, no, I won't dare to bother you anymore."

The next day, I called my husband and told him that I had gotten rid of that fly, and he wouldn't dare to land on a cracked egg again.

Part 3: Oral Sex Tool

Sigh! I don't know what happened, maybe I was bewitched, but I actually served as our boss's oral sex tool for a whole year.

At the company's New Year's Eve party last year, my usually stern boss suddenly acted out of character. While dancing with me, he gripped my hand tightly, pinched my waist and buttocks, and pulled me into his arms. There were many people there, and I didn't want to make a scene and embarrass him, plus it was noisy everywhere, so probably no one noticed his unusual behavior. Besides, he's a nice guy; maybe his outburst was due to drinking. In short, he harassed me that day, and I acquiesced to his harassment.

After returning to work from the holiday, one day near the end of the workday, my boss suddenly called and asked me to come to his office. He didn't say anything, and I didn't ask anything either, so I took the elevator upstairs to his office. Before leaving my office, I subconsciously took out a mirror from my drawer and tidied my appearance. When

I arrived at his office door, the door was open, and the secretary who usually sat in the outer room was nowhere to be seen. The door to the inner room was ajar. Since my boss had called personally, I didn't wait for the secretary to return. I went directly to the ajar door and knocked lightly twice. Seeing no response, I waited a few seconds, then pushed the door open a little and looked inside. The large office was empty, and the luxuriously decorated room exuded an air of authority and solemnity.

Just as I was about to close the door and retreat, I heard my boss's voice: "Come in and close the door." It turned out there was a suite inside the office, and the voice was coming from there. I did as he instructed, went into the room, and closed the door again. The door was automatic; once closed, it locked itself and couldn't be opened from the outside. I hesitated, wondering whether to enter the suite (the door was open), when the boss said, "Why don't you come in?" I

cautiously entered the suite; the thick carpet silenced my footsteps. A large double bed stood in one corner of the room. I saw the boss sitting on a large leather sofa, reading a book, without looking up at me. "Boss, I'm here. Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked softly, a little resentful. Did the boss think he could act so high and mighty? But I couldn't show any displeasure.

The boss looked up at me, put down his book, and stood up. "Hmm, you look even better today than the day you danced."

"Thank you, boss."

"Alright, I have something for you to do today. Listen to me, and if you're willing, do it; if not, go back to work and don't mention it again. If you're willing, consider it extra work, and I'll give you a raise. Are you willing?"

"I'm willing. But... what do you want me to do?"

"Heh, if I'm not mistaken, you should know what I want you to do, right? Otherwise, why did you say you were willing?"

The boss was really something. Actually, I guessed he probably wanted to have sex with me. First, he called me personally today, instead of having his secretary do it; second, his secretary wasn't outside, and he was sitting in the suite with the double bed. If it was to assign work, he should have met me in his office outside. Fortunately, this boss wasn't unpleasant. He was a returnee from overseas, with a doctorate from a famous American university, a very knowledgeable and cultured man. He wasn't very tall, maybe a little taller than me at 1.64 meters. He was about 20 years older than me, and although he was in his early fifties, he was in great shape.

"Last summer, I saw you and M in the stairwell..." the boss said.

I understood. I recalled hearing the stairwell door creak slightly that day, but I thought it was just the wind. I didn't say anything more, walked straight to the boss, knelt down, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his semi-erect penis. I hadn't expected that someone so small would have such a large penis, much bigger than M's and my husband's. I grasped his still-limp penis, gently stroked it a few times, and then skillfully pulled back the foreskin, licking the glans and urethral opening with my tongue, tasting the salty fluid seeping out.

The man's penis in my hand quickly swelled up, very thick, filling my palm completely, the huge glans glowing red, looking quite smug. I opened my mouth wide, trying to take as much as possible, but the enormous glans already filled my mouth. I could only swallow carefully, bit by bit, trying to avoid my teeth touching his tender flesh. Slowly, I got used to his size and began to rhythmically stroke his penis with my lips and tongue, while my fingers gently rubbed his scrotum and buttocks.

The boss stood stiffly, groaning softly, his lower abdomen heaving back and forth with my rhythm, seemingly trying to insert his penis deeper into my mouth. After a while, he said in a hoarse voice, "Go to the bed and take off your clothes." With that, he pulled his penis out of my mouth and took out two electric dildos, one thick and one thin, from the cabinet next to him.

Following the boss's instructions, I stripped off my clothes and knelt on the bed with my buttocks raised. He walked behind me and first inserted two fingers into my vagina, slowly moving them in and out a few times, seemingly checking the level of wetness. Then, he inserted a finger, covered in my vaginal fluid, into my anus and moved it slightly. After that, he inserted two dildos into my vagina and anus respectively. He turned them on, and the two dildos immediately began to vibrate inside my body, sending waves of pleasure directly to my heart, making me tremble all over. A tingling sensation spread from deep within my vagina and rectum throughout my entire body, and I couldn't help but scream a few times.

Then, keeping in a bent-over position to prevent the dildos from falling out of my body, I helped the boss undress as well, helped him lie down on the bed, and then knelt on his lower abdomen to continue giving him oral sex. This time, the boss played with my breasts with one hand and grabbed my hair with the other, pulling my head up and down to force his penis as deep as possible into my mouth, the glans almost touching my throat. Luckily, my husband loves deep throating and often trains me in it, otherwise I would definitely have vomited on the boss's bed. Under such intense stimulation from both above and below, my body became increasingly aroused. I felt my vaginal fluid flowing down my thighs onto the bed, and my knees, kneeling on the bed, seemed to be soaked.

Just as I was secretly admiring the boss's incredible endurance, he suddenly shuddered, pressed my head down tightly with both hands, and forced his penis firmly against my throat, ejaculating a large amount of semen into my throat. I didn't have time to swallow; a lot of semen flowed down his lip and his penis onto his pubic hair, scrotum, and groin.

When he finally released me, I quickly raised my head, hastily swallowed the last few drops of semen, and then gasped for breath. Seeing the white, sticky semen on the boss's stomach, I quickly knelt down again and diligently licked the semen off his lower abdomen. Then, I lifted his legs and crawled into his buttocks to lick the semen off his perineum and anus.

When I crawled out from under the boss, I saw him smiling at me. Seeing me look up at him, the boss became serious and asked, "What day is it today?"

"Thursday."

"Okay, from now on, come to my place before you leave work on Thursday afternoons, if I'm here."

"Okay." I knew the boss was telling me to leave, so I wisely took the two dildos out of my body, got dressed, and left his office dejectedly. In the outer room, the boss's secretary, Xiao Yao, was sitting behind the computer. When she saw me, she casually greeted me, "Sister Yuan's here?" I gave a perfunctory reply and quickly left.

Since then, I've gone to my boss's office at least once a week to give him oral sex, sometimes twice. But what puzzles me is that he never actually has intercourse with me; that is, he's never inserted his penis into my vagina or anus. Does he see me as his Monica Lewinsky? Or is he afraid I'll get pregnant and cause him trouble? Who knows!

Part 4: Married Life

Before and after marriage, my husband and I maintained a very passionate sex life. This was partly thanks to his generous and magnanimous nature, and partly thanks to my skill in creating a seductive atmosphere.

I was 32, and he was 35, the peak of a man's and woman's sexual desire. Coupled with his constant interrogation of me about my infidelity in bed, we were often at the point of near-explosive sexual desire, so we were almost always immersed in passionate lovemaking.

At night, after showering, I would sit naked in my pajamas at the dressing table in the bedroom, carefully applying face cream. Without turning around, I saw my husband emerge naked from the bathroom in the mirror. He was very proud of his tanned, strong, and tall body (he's 1.82 meters tall), so he frequently took the opportunity to show it off. I noticed his penis was erect.

Knowing I was admiring his naked body in the mirror, he proudly lay on the large bed opposite the dressing table, one hand holding his penis, slowly stroking it up and down. He closed his eyes, enjoying himself, probably thinking about some naughty things.

I always get excited when I see my husband masturbating in front of me; I felt my lower body quickly become wet.

At this moment, my husband opened his eyes, looked at me, and said, "Come here, girl, I'm almost dead hard, and you're just standing there watching. Come on, darling, my cock is dying for your pussy." He groaned in a slightly hoarse voice.

Now my vulva was soaking wet, just like when he fingered me or kissed my vulva.

I stood up from the dressing table, took off my pajamas and threw them on the floor, and climbed into bed.

We kissed passionately, my husband's fingers rubbing my clitoris before easily sliding into my vagina.

"Oh, you're so wet, don't you really want me to fuck your cunt?" my husband murmured.

He rolled over and pinned me beneath him, his hard penis plunging into my vagina in one go, then he started fucking me hard. I loved his vigorous movements!

"Tell me, what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself just now?" I asked, kissing my husband's lips as he pounded on top of me.

"Thinking about you, thinking about your little cunt," he replied breathlessly.

"That's not right, is it? Honestly, which little woman were you thinking about? Were you thinking about Mrs. B?" I

met the B couple when my husband introduced me to swapping partners. They were a couple, the man was 30 and the woman was 28, both of them quite petite. Mrs. B was about 1.55 meters tall. Because of her small frame, her plump body appeared slender, and her skin was as white as snow, tender and smooth. My husband said that this kind of woman's body was most attractive to men; it felt good to hold, yet didn't look fat, and her white skin made one reluctant to touch it. Therefore, ever since that swap, he couldn't stop thinking about Mrs. B.

Conversely, I wasn't very interested in Mr. B, because I prefer tall and strong men, and his 1.65-meter height held no appeal for me. So, after that swap, I never agreed to my husband's suggestion to swap again. Instead, Mrs. B and I became friends, and we went shopping and had coffee together several times. Sometimes when we talked about it, she said her husband liked me very much, and I told her she was my husband's dream girl. She giggled when she heard this.

"Yes, I really miss her. It's a pity you don't want to play anymore! That woman can really melt a man's heart," my husband said with regret.

"Fine, you're fucking me, but you're thinking about other women! Fine, then get off me and fuck her, let yourself melt into her body!" I said, pinching my husband's buttocks hard.

"Ouch, be gentle," my husband cried, knowing I wasn't really angry, and continued, "She doesn't say 'fuck,' she says 'sex,' she always makes me 'sex' her hard, her cunt is really tight and wet." We

often said things like this during sex, which made our sex even more intense. Soon, we both reached orgasm.

I knew my husband really wanted to play the swapping game with Mrs. B again, but my lack of enthusiasm made him a little frustrated. So, while the afterglow of our orgasm still lingered in my body, and the frenzied desire continued to thrill my heart, I suggested he invite Mrs. B alone. After all, he had been cuckolded so many times without complaint, he should at least get some compensation.

My husband, after hearing my suggestion, feigned modesty and said, "How can that be? We should arrange it together. It's not right for me to ask her out alone, is it? Besides, this isn't what you, this 'jealous jar,' truly think."

"Alright, alright, you're secretly pleased, aren't you? Why say such insincere things? Let me tell you, as long as your soul isn't bewitched by that little vixen, I'll let you do whatever you want."

"That's for sure, my soul will always be with my wife."

A few days later, while I was at work, I received a call from my husband saying he had arranged for Mrs. B to come over that afternoon. I said okay, you guys go home first, I'll be home after work.

When I got home, the two of them were making love passionately in the bedroom. Seeing me, Mrs. B blushed and greeted me, a little embarrassed, "Sister Yuan's back?"

"You little vixen! Seducing my husband while I was away!" I said angrily.

"Don't give me that! Your husband told me it was your idea. I haven't even settled accounts with you for being tricked by you two, and you're already blaming me."

"Hehe, then you two have your fun," I said, sitting on the stool in front of the dressing table, watching the two making love on the bed. My husband was tall and strong, with a bronze complexion; Mrs. B was petite with snow-white skin. My husband was on top of her, like a powerful brown bear on a lamb—the stark contrast was incredibly stimulating. When I swapped partners with them that time, it was this scene that brought me to orgasm, not my husband's penis. Now, I felt my pleasure rapidly gathering inside me.

Then, my husband turned Mrs. B over, making her lie face down on the bed with her hands and knees supporting her body. He entered her from behind. The sounds of their lovemaking were loud, a cacophony of flesh colliding, the squelching of her juices, and her gasps and moans.

"Oh, baby, you're so tight and wet!" my husband cried out passionately.

I stripped naked, climbed onto the bed, and crawled under Mrs. B, licking the juncture of their genitals. One hand caressed Mrs. B's breasts, while the other rubbed my own clitoris. With our combined efforts, Mrs. B soon reached two orgasms, collapsing onto the bed trembling. My husband withdrew from her, pulled off the condom, and inserted his still-erect penis into my vagina, thrusting vigorously until he ejaculated inside me.

Afterward, my husband lay exhausted on the bed. Mrs. B and I lay on either side of his lower abdomen, taking turns sucking on his penis, cleaning off the semen and vaginal fluids. Then, the three of us lay motionless in bed, quietly experiencing our own feelings.

Chapter 5: Getting a Navel Ring

That day, on a whim, I told my husband I wanted to get a navel ring. He replied dismissively, "You're over 30, why do you want to do that kind of thing like young girls? Aren't you being a little dramatic?" "No, I'm going. You'll come with me!" "Okay, whatever."

The reason for this sudden idea was seeing Xiao Xin, who works in the same office as me, get a navel ring. She looked so pretty and sexy, it immediately attracted me. I thought, if I had this, I'd have another excuse to brag about when I'm making love with my husband. Actually, it's not really a navel ring, more like a navel stud, because it's a small metal rod that goes through the skin of the navel, with a small ball attached to each end. Xiao Xin gave me the business card of the navel ring shop and kept urging me to get one, saying it would be a waste not to get one with my great skin and figure, etc., which made me feel quite flattered.

Following the address on the business card, my husband accompanied me to the shop specializing in tattoos and piercings, located on the fourth floor of a large shopping mall. The shop consisted of suites partitioned from a large room. Two receptionists sat in the outer room, along with a row of seats for customers to rest. I inquired further in the outer room, paid 160 yuan for the piercing, selected a platinum-quality belly button piercing, and paid another 480 yuan for the piercing itself. After waiting a while in the outer room, a receptionist led me into the inner room, while my husband waited in the outer room.

The inner room was much smaller than the outer room. Against the wall was a single bed, similar to an examination bed in a hospital emergency room, but higher than our bed at home, presumably for ease of operation. Next to the bed was an operating table with some instruments and medicine bottles. The man performing the piercing was a young man of about 25 or 26, with delicate features and fair skin. He had me lie down on the bed, lifted the hem of my shirt, loosened my belt, and pulled my pants down a bit.

"Your skin is so fair, and your belly button is so beautiful. You'll look even prettier after getting a ring," the young man complimented me while applying rubbing alcohol to my belly button.

"Does it hurt? I'm terrified of pain," I said to him.

"It won't hurt, it's okay. If you're afraid of pain, I can give you some anesthetic." He took a needle and syringe from a box on the operating table, drew up some anesthetic, and injected it into the skin of my belly button. After a short pause, he used a pair of metal forceps to clamp and lift the skin around my belly button, while using his other hand to pierce it with a thick needle. He then inserted the metal rod of the belly button ring I had chosen through the pierced skin. He released the forceps and attached two small metal balls, one large and one small, to the ends of the rod. Finally, he carefully wiped my belly button area with alcohol swabs, and he was done.

Throughout the entire process, I kept staring at his hands and face, my gaze a mixture of fear and worry, curiosity and a hint of ambiguity. He wore thin medical rubber gloves on his slender hands, and his large eyes were very focused beneath his thick, dark eyebrows. The moment he pierced my skin with the needle, I suddenly felt a heat in my lower abdomen, and my vaginal fluid immediately soaked the crotch of my pants. I felt like I was being deflowered for the first time, as if he had penetrated me again. This thought suddenly filled me with curiosity and affection for this young man.

"Okay, when you get back, try not to get your navel wet for 24 hours. If you have any problems, you can come back to me." After saying that, he packed up his equipment without looking up at me as I was getting dressed.

Two days later, I called him and said my wound was a little painful, and he wanted me to come to his place so he could take a look. I said I couldn't come during work hours, only after work. He told me he got off work at 5 pm, but he could wait for me. So, we agreed to meet at his place at 6:30 pm.

Actually, my wound wasn't a big problem; I just wanted to see him. When I arrived at his shop, the door was closed, so I knocked. He opened the door, and seeing no one in the outer room, I asked, "Where are the two receptionists?" "They've already left for the day; we close at five." "Oh, thank you for your help." "It's no trouble at all."

As I followed him into the inner room, I suddenly felt my whole body tremble, and my heart pounded. He put on rubber gloves, had me lift my shirt, and carefully examined my navel. He then told me there was absolutely nothing wrong, just a little redness that would go away in a couple of days. Then, he softly said, "Actually, you'd look really pretty with a nipple ring."

My lower abdomen suddenly felt hot again, but seeing his expressionless face, I didn't know if he was trying to drum up business or flirting with me, so I replied, "I don't know if I'd be suitable for a nipple ring."

"Then let me take a look, okay?" He stood in front of me, looking down into my eyes.

Now I was sure he was flirting with me. So, even after getting my navel pierced, he was thinking about me too. It seems we really are on the same wavelength. I pretended to be reserved as I slowly unbuttoned my clothes, took off my outer garment, and then reached behind my back to unhook my bra, then thrust my breasts forward for him to see.

"Oh, your nipples are so beautiful, so small, so red, and your breasts are so big, so perky, they're so beautiful." He looked at them, then stroked them with his gloved hand, and then rubbed my nipples with his fingers. This was no longer an examination, it was pure toying.

But I didn't refuse, standing there stiffly and letting this man play with me. My panties were wet again, I trembled a little, my body swayed, and I reached out to hug his arm. By then, he had taken off his gloves, and his hands were brazenly kneading my breasts, then he simply lay on my chest and sucked on my nipple.

"Oh, oh... I, I also want you to help me see if I'm suitable for a labia ring," I moaned, holding his head as I murmured.

He understood what I meant, of course. Without a word, he lifted me onto the examination bed and, ignoring my attempts to resist (though I tried to be reserved), pulled down my pants. He laid me flat on the bed, naked, spread my legs, and carefully examined my vulva. I was a little embarrassed because I was already very wet. I trembled all over, my body becoming increasingly aroused under his gaze.

He didn't take off his clothes, but simply unzipped his pants, pulled out his already erect penis, tugged at it with his glove, and then thrust it hard into my body. And so, he stood by the bed, I lay on the bed, and we began to make love wildly. After the first ejaculation, he didn't withdraw, but leaned down and kissed me. After resting for a moment, he straightened up again and began to thrust fiercely once more. This time he lasted a long time before ejaculating into my body a second time.

Chapter 6: Gang Rape in the Backseat of a Car

He was a man I met at work, and we later became friends, naturally sleeping together a few times. Every time we made love, he was never satisfied, so he said bitterly that he would find several men to gang rape me. I laughed and encouraged him to go find them, and he looked at me and asked, "Are you serious?" I looked at him and nodded seriously.

A few days ago, he called me and asked if I would like to go out to dinner with him and his friends after work. I knew he really wanted to have someone else gang rape me, so I joked that I didn't want to be intimate in his hatchback anymore; it gave me a headache. He laughed and said his friend had a spacious luxury SUV with an incredibly large back seat.

Hearing this, I felt an instant wetness, and I inwardly cursed myself for being so lewd, but I was genuinely looking forward to meeting him, so I readily agreed.

That day, near the end of the workday, he called, saying he was waiting for me in the parking lot downstairs from our office building. I quickly tidied myself up and called my husband, telling him I had some social engagements and would be home late, and that he should eat by himself. My husband knew this man and knew he had had sex with me, so he didn't ask many questions, just told me to take care of myself.

In the parking lot, I saw him and three other men standing next to a large SUV, chatting and waiting for me. When he saw me, he introduced me to his friends, who all greeted me warmly. One of the men eagerly opened the back door and invited me into the car. Sitting in the back seat, my stomach cramped, and my face felt hot, especially with two strange men sitting on either side of me; my heart pounded wildly.

He got into the driver's seat, and our car quickly drove away from the parking lot. As soon as the car started moving, the two men next to me began to compliment me, saying how beautiful I was and how great my figure was. From their tone, they seemed to already know about my relationship with him. Since I didn't dislike these two men, I didn't hold back in our conversation. Soon, the conversation took a suggestive turn, and they started joking about his hatchback, saying that there would definitely be no problem in that car. I knew they were implying that I would have sex with him in his small car, and I knew they wanted to have sex with me in this big car.

Sure enough, their words became even more explicit. The man sitting to my left asked me, "Do you think your husband would be angry if he found out you went out with a few men?"

"Probably not. My husband knows I went out with you guys. I just called him, so don't even think about hurting me," I said, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

"Why would we hurt you? We'll only love you," the man on my right said, putting his arm around my shoulder and stroking my neck and back. The man on my left also started lifting my skirt and stroking my thighs.

I knew what was about to happen, and I felt incredibly nervous, yet also a little excited. I resisted the two men's hands that were groping me, feigning modesty as I called out to him, "Hey, are you just focused on driving? Aren't you going to keep an eye on your buddies, letting them molest me like this?"

"Heh, didn't you ask me to find you some guys? Don't be shy, my buddies are all pretty good guys, they'll definitely satisfy you," he said, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

Hearing his words, I felt a sudden sense of despair. I knew they had already planned it all; now I was just meat on their chopping block, with no way to escape, completely at their mercy. But wasn't this my own doing? Wasn't this the crazy sexual fantasy I had secretly harbored for years, hoping to finally realize? But how could I let these strange men play with me so easily? How could I debase myself to such an extent?

In the time I was in a daze, they had already lifted my skirt, pulled my underwear to the side, spread my legs wide, and were playing with my vulva with their fingers.

One man inserted three fingers into my body, "Oh, look, she's all wet. What a slut!" he said, as his fingers moved in and out of my vagina.

I was burning up and panting from his ministrations. I weakly pushed away his hands as he played with me, muttering, "You guys are so mean... let me go, you're making me... hurt... feel... good... let me go..."

"Heh, are you saying 'feel good' or 'let me go'?" he chuckled, driving ahead.

"You're still laughing? How can you bear to watch your woman being played with by your brothers?" I said bitterly.

"Hehe, brothers are like limbs, women are like clothes, it's no big deal if I lend my clothes to a few brothers!"

At that moment, the man to my left pulled out his hard penis. He made me stand up, holding onto the back of the seat in front of me, leaning forward through the gap between the two seats, sticking my bare buttocks up. Then he moved to the middle seat where I had been sitting, bent his knees, and leaned over my back, thrusting his hard penis into my vagina, which he had been fingering for a while.

My position was incredibly awkward, and my location was extremely embarrassing. A strange man behind me was fucking me hard; the guy on the right in the back seat was kneading my breasts with one hand and fiddling with my navel piercing with the other; the man in the passenger seat was turning my head, which was resting on his shoulder, prying open my mouth and kissing me with his tongue. The three men's actions made me both excited and ashamed, and moans and vaginal fluids kept flowing from my lips.

The car stopped, but the men's rape and abuse didn't stop. I peeked out through the windshield; it was already getting dark, and the car was parked in a field, seemingly in the countryside. He (cough, for ease of narration, let's call him A, the passenger in the front seat B, the one who was originally to my left C, and the one to my right D) who was driving just moments before, told his friends to stop. He then reclined the two front seats and the back seats, making a large bed.

"Alright, you guys have had your fun, get out of the car, it's my turn," A said, shooing his friends out of the car. He then stripped off my shirt, pulled me onto the "bed," and kissed me, saying, "Darling, I hope you're not angry. I really wanted to help you fulfill your sexual fantasies. You always say you've never had a one-night stand, right? Today I'm going to satisfy your desire." With that, he unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis, and inserted it into my body.

I was already blinded by lust and couldn't even speak to him. I just held him tightly, letting him ravage my body. This time it took longer than ever, almost half an hour, before he ejaculated inside me. As soon as he withdrew, C climbed into the car, complaining that A was too slow, rolled over, spat on my anus, and then thrust his thick penis inside.

"No, don't do that, it'll hurt!" I pleaded.

"It's okay, I'll be careful. Besides, a cunt like yours has probably been anally fucked a long time ago, what are you afraid of?" he said, still pressing his hard penis against my anus.

I knew it was useless to talk to this beast, so I tried to relax my muscles, spreading my buttocks wide with my hands, opening my sphincter to welcome his invasion. Fortunately, his thrusting didn't last long, and he quickly ejaculated into my rectum.

Next was B. He first made me perform oral sex on him, and then he also raped my anus. Finally, D got in the car and, after penetrating all three of my vaginas, ejaculated into my mouth. Then, C got in the car and played with me again. In this way, the four men played with me for over two hours, each ejaculating inside my vagina and anus before finally driving me back to the city, satisfied.

I got home around 10 pm. My husband asked, somewhat surprised, "You're home earlier than usual today. You usually don't come home until after midnight when you're out socializing." Suddenly, my nose stung, and I felt like bursting into tears. I managed to hold it in and said to him, "I'm sorry, could you cook me some instant noodles? I haven't eaten yet. I'm going to take a shower first." My husband was taken aback. Seeing my distressed expression, he didn't ask any more questions and went to the kitchen.

In bed, I told my husband everything that had happened that night. He hugged me tightly and comforted me. He told me that it's just male nature; once a man gets what he wants, he no longer feels affection for the woman, especially those so-called "lovers." Their sweet talk is just to get women into bed, and once they've got them, they rarely have the patience to please them anymore.

"Originally, I thought it would be exciting and satisfy my body and mind. But I felt terrible. Although my body still felt a lot of stimulation, especially when they took turns ejaculating inside me, I couldn't bear being played with by strange men like that. I felt disgusted and ashamed," I said, nestled in his arms. "Now, I feel that no temptation is as safe and secure as your embrace. I'm going to break off all contact with A. I hoped he would be a loving lover, but he doesn't cherish me at all."

However, I couldn't keep my promise. When A called again to ask me out, I inexplicably went to meet him again, feeling excited. From then on, I willingly became their sex toy, the four men inviting me out every few days, either together or alone. The locations for our lovemaking expanded from the back seat of a car to fields, their offices, someone's house, and hotel rooms. C even twice secretly took me to swap with other couples. In a hotel room, he offered me to strange men as his "wife," while he raped someone else's wife (perhaps a fake?) on the bed next to him. Last Christmas Eve, the four of them invited me to a Christmas party at a hotel, and then gang-raped me in a hotel room all night.

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