Freedom Above All: A Female Perspective K9 Domination Novel, Extreme Content, Read at Your Own Risk (1-2)

Above Freedom
Author: tangsonyuan Word Count: 6697
Foreword: New Year, new look! New Year, new beginning! Here, I wish everyone a Happy New Year! May you all be rich immediately! May you find a partner immediately! May you achieve success immediately! This is a female-perspective BDSM story. I strive to write it realistically and reasonably, close to reality. Of course, you don't have to take it too seriously; after all, "what is false may be true, and what is true may be false." Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. If you enjoy reading, please comment. I welcome corrections and criticisms. If it's poorly written, please feel free to point them out, and I welcome discussion with you. Writing alone is quite tedious; exchanging ideas with others brings inspiration.

In the dark room, not a ray of light could be seen. Who pushed me into this deathly silence? My body was bound by chains and ropes. Who imprisoned me, depriving me of any freedom? Countless nightmares enveloped me. Loneliness, like a venomous snake, coiled around my soul. I could not speak, could not see, could not smell, could not hear, but my heart wanted to cry out, like yearning for light, wanting to break free from the chains, bite through the ropes, spread my wings, break through the dark room, and fly to the clouds, free above.
On the surface, it simply read: "March 29th, Sunny..."
After sitting for a moment, I stood up and began to walk around the room. My reflection appeared in the large dressing mirror. I stared fixedly at the blurry self in the mirror.
Before, I had never seen myself like this, somewhat unfamiliar.
I think I must have found the source of my heat...
A small floral pink short dress, with lace trim on the neckline and cuffs. The dress cinched above the waist, lifting up my large breasts, confining them within the narrow fabric, creating a deep cleavage. Large swathes of my milky-white, full breasts were exposed to the air, heaving. I couldn't help but stare in disbelief. My skirt was very short, the hem barely reaching my thighs. With each step, the skirt fluttered, revealing glimpses of my voluptuous figure beneath.
If anyone were to lift my skirt, they would discover that I wasn't wearing a bra, not even panties. I was only wearing this short skirt, barely covering my bare buttocks, sunken into the black leather chair. This was the first time in my life that I had ever written a bold statement on my face: "Where the heart leads, there is freedom."
(The End)
Chapter 2 "Wake-up" Service (Part 1)
A sharp pain shot through my neck, which had been tilted to one side, jolting me awake from my reverie.
Oh no! Oh no!
A crucial but forgotten thing suddenly popped into my head: Morningcare Service. I had to wake up the owner of this house at the designated time and in the designated way. The allotted time was already tight, but now I was wasting it on pointless memories, wasting it in the daze of the early morning. Would I be punished? Certainly! How severe would the punishment be? A chill ran down my spine, the chains around me rattling. I felt as if a cold gaze had instantly frozen me.
In a panic, I frantically pushed open the cage door and scrambled out. A quick glance in the mirror sent a wave of intense shame crashing down my spine. The mirrors covering three walls reflected countless images of myself crawling on the floor: limbs on the ground, buttocks raised high, delicate knees scraping against the floor, my pale body completely exposed… I was clumsily and pathetically crawling towards the door. I suddenly stopped, curling up and crouching on the ground. Is this me? Is this still me? A startling thought suddenly popped into my head: I look like a dog!
I tried desperately to stand up, but the chains binding my limbs prevented me from fully rising. Even if I could stand, it would be incredibly difficult; crawling would be faster! That must be his purpose. Time was of the essence! I hesitated for only a moment, not caring whether I was on my feet or all fours. There was no time to think, no time for embarrassment. I opened the door with my head and rushed to the master bedroom door, using both hands and feet.
I paused briefly, then knelt before the master bedroom door. I needed to calm myself and think about what to do next. I gently patted my heaving chest to calm my rapid breathing, and tidied my disheveled hair to make myself look less pathetic. Taking a deep breath, I moved slowly and gently, and pushed open the master bedroom door.
The room was pitch black; heavy curtains covered the entire windowsill, allowing only a sliver of light to filter through, enough to give me a general view of the room. A thick, dark carpet covered the floor; its soft texture felt comfortable to the touch, and the fine fibers brushed against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. Three walls of the room were covered in dark wallpaper with silver feather patterns. In the center of the room stood a black leather bed, a rustic lamp on the bedside table, and opposite the bed, a row of large black wardrobes embedded in the wall.
Kneeling on the carpet in front of the bed, I resisted the urge to lie down and take a comfortable nap. There were more important things to do now, and even though I was past the allotted time and punishment was inevitable, I still clung to a sliver of hope that things would turn out alright. I recalled the rules of "morning call service." Although my mind had been a mess last night, and I couldn't remember the complete requirements, I had memorized a few key points, albeit out of deep shame. I couldn't help but marvel at the magic of the Chinese language: seemingly unrelated and perfectly normal words, when cleverly combined, can evoke a powerful sense of humiliation and deeply stimulate the nerves, thus amplifying that humiliation. But it was precisely this intense humiliation and stimulation that made me vividly remember those crucial, life-saving words.
I hesitated for a moment, then double-checked. With a heart full of trepidation, I crept quietly towards the foot of the bed. Although the thick carpet made it unlikely I'd make a lot of noise, I was still extra careful, afraid of waking the sleeping person. Using both hands and feet, I climbed onto the leather bed, crawled on my belly, gently lifted a corner of the blanket, immediately lowered my head, and slipped under the covers. A
unique masculine scent emanating from an adult male body wafted towards me, making my head spin a little. I fumbled around under the covers, but it was pitch black and I couldn't see anything. My eyes were useless, so I simply closed them and started sniffing around, searching for something. A moment later, I touched a foot—a warm, large foot. My already uneasy feelings became even more chaotic. I felt a bit stuffy, my breathing quickened, and my tongue unconsciously licked my dry lips. I hesitated for a few seconds, but a voice in my head kept urging me: Hurry! Hurry! You don't have time! The voice grew louder and more warning.
I made up my mind, took a deep breath, and the faint smell of foot odor mixed with the hot air in the bed wafted into my nostrils, irritating my nasal mucosa and making my already rapid breathing even heavier. Dizzy, I barely managed to open my mouth, sticking out my little tongue, and carefully licked every inch of the sole of the large foot, occasionally sucking on it with my lips. I'm a strange person: indecisive and unable to make up my mind, but once I make a decision, I'll wholeheartedly and seriously carry it out.
My soft, delicate tongue licked the slightly rough soles of my feet. Each stroke, each rub, the incredibly realistic sensation stimulated my sensitive nerves, plucking out note after note of desire. My tongue seemed to have found a fun toy, reluctant to let go, savoring every bite. I licked more and more vigorously, wishing I could stick my entire tongue to the sole. Instinctively, my tongue licked upwards along the instep, finally touching the rounded toes. My tongue seemed to have found an even more fun toy, the tip of my tongue pressed tightly against the toes, caressing them back and forth from left to right and right to left. My breathing became a little labored, and I licked while opening my mouth wide and panting heavily. My heavy, warm breath sprayed onto the instep and toes, some flying out between the toes, but most being bounced back by the wide instep. This heat, mixed with the warm air from the bed and the faint smell of foot odor, hit my face all at once. My eyes, nose, mouth, tongue… everything was enveloped, the stench making me feel lightheaded and dizzy.
In a daze, I instinctively opened my mouth, curling my tongue to envelop my entire big toe and swallow it. My tongue swept back and forth across the toe, licking every inch between the nails and toes, moistening it with saliva. My soft lips gently enveloped my hard teeth, my warm, moist mouth tightly gripping the rounded toe, sucking, trying to dry the saliva. This repeated itself, the smell of the big foot filling my entire mouth, filling every taste bud. It was as if those filled taste buds were immersed in the stench of the foot and were cheering with joy.
I was surprised!
Why didn't I feel any nausea? Why could I adapt so quickly after the initial discomfort? In fact, this was only the second time I had done the same thing. Faced with such humiliation, any normal person, especially a woman, would instinctively resist, feel disgust, and even refuse and rebel. Why then could I face it without any aversion, and even immerse myself in it? This series of questions made me realize that I should resist and stay away from this foot that was so tempting and irresistible, but the opposite happened. My body's instincts made me press closer to it, inhale its scent, hold it deeply, and become obsessed with it... completely oblivious to the rough skin rubbing against my delicate skin and the intense humiliation it brought me. Is it that I am inherently incapable of feeling humiliation from this kind of behavior, or am I so perverted that I am willing to be humiliated and even actively pursue this feeling of humiliation? If someone could see my face in the dark of the bed, I think it would be flushed with a drunken and morbid blush.
I can't figure it out. I can only attribute it to my "what I say, I do" personality, while some people attribute it to my twisted nature. If I can't figure something out, I shouldn't bother. Right now, I'm immersed in this intimate game of touching my toes, and I have no time to think about it. Someone will give me an answer eventually.
Suddenly, my foot moved slightly, pulled out of my mouth, and then reached around my neck, hooking its toes onto the stainless steel collar and tugging it upwards. The implication was clear without words, and I instantly understood: my mouth needed a new place. Although I was a little frustrated that this wonderful feeling was interrupted, I quickly became delighted. I could sense that the owner of the foot seemed to be enjoying my mouth's ministrations and wanted me to go further to make him even more comfortable. This meant he was probably in a good mood, which, on a deeper level, meant that my attentive service might make him feel comfortable and satisfied, potentially leading to less punishment or even no punishment at all. Therefore, I felt comfortable too, and I should work even harder to make him more comfortable.
I gently rubbed against his feet like a docile kitten, the thick leg hair brushing against my skin, chin, lips, nose, eyes, forehead… the ticklish sensation made me shiver uncontrollably. I quickly found my target, plunging my head into the thick hair, taking his semi-erect member into my mouth. The rich masculine scent, mingled with the thick pubic hair, assaulted my senses, a smell even stronger than foot odor. My mouth secreted more saliva, moistening his rapidly hardening, enlarging, and heating member. Saliva spilled from the corners of my mouth, accompanied by embarrassing sucking sounds, and heavy breathing accompanied by soft moans escaped from my nostrils. I just stood there, dumbfounded, holding it in, clearly feeling what was swelling in my mouth, slowly growing larger and thicker until it filled my entire mouth.
Cough… cough… I choked before I could spit it out.
This was only the second time I'd done this, and I had no skill whatsoever.

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