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Roujia's Diary: An Experience as a Female Submissive (22-24) 

Word count: 3483
Roujia's Diary: A Female M's Experience Chapter Twenty-Two: Kneeling and Drinking Water The master asked me about my progress these past few days, whether I had chatted with that person calling myself a bitch or a slut. I said no, no. He asked if I had called him master, and I said no. I angrily told him, "I feel like you want me to be like that, you don't believe I can control myself." Not only the master, but when I saw people in the group discussing my diary, both men and women said I was about to succumb, that sooner or later I would truly be disciplined by my master. It's no wonder everyone guessed that, seeing how obsessed I was with SM, to the point of infatuation, so serious and submissive, so wholeheartedly obeying my master's commands. But I don't think so. I like SM, I like the feeling of being a bitch. If it were someone else, it might have already happened in reality. I'm special, I don't want anything to actually happen. I told the master, "If your diary is entirely about me, it probably won't lead to anything. I don't want it to happen in reality, so I might not be able to continue writing the diary. I also doubt that things will turn out well between me and the mysterious man. I really don't want things to happen between us in reality, so the novel should focus on other people's experiences. I mean, you can't write any real progress, so you might as well add other people's experiences." The master said the diary is the truth, and he doesn't want things to actually happen between me; he wants to write according to the facts, without fabrication. I said, "But you write it for people to read. Everyone wants to see me being 'trained' in a real way. Just writing like this is pointless and has no conclusion. What you're writing seems to have no ending. I firmly believe that things won't happen between me and that person, and if you write it like this, people won't like reading it."
The master said that writing a diary is for authenticity, not for entertainment. If you want exciting content, there are plenty of online novels; there's no need to come to a diary group. In the past, when I was with my partner, I would say things like I was a slut or a bitch. I liked hearing it and would cooperate, like crawling on my knees, kneeling and lying down to let men fuck me, kneeling and licking men's dicks. Back then, I didn't understand; I didn't know I had masochistic tendencies. Other women might do the same things, but I wouldn't know unless we chatted. I like oral sex, but I don't really like deep throat, though I can accept it. Deep throat is uncomfortable because it's against my throat. I'm a potential masochist. If I asked my ex-partner to "train" me, he would be willing. Actually, if I wanted to cheat, I'd go with my ex-partner; that way, there's emotional connection and real-life "training." But I don't want to waste each other's time, I don't want to get caught up in another emotional whirlpool, and I don't want to have anything happen with this mysterious person; I don't want to truly get involved. Even online BDSM is serious for me. I only accept being called "little bitch" by a mysterious person. I have confidants, lovers, friends for normal chats, and friends for casual sexual conversations online. I'm very clear about these distinctions and very loyal. I don't casually recognize masters, lovers, or fathers. That day, the mysterious person was BDSM me online. He made me kneel on the bed with my nipples and labia clamped together. He told me to find a plate, pour water on it, and drink the water without using my hands. I knelt down, bent over, and drank the water like a dog, then licked it clean with my tongue. He asked me how it felt and wanted me to take pictures. I said it felt okay, but I didn't agree to take pictures. I've never liked taking nude selfies, and it's hard for him to change that habit. He told me to try it when I had the chance and even asked me what it felt like to urinate while crawling. He seemed very satisfied. He didn't make me masturbate. Unlike non-S types who just want to tease me, he mainly wanted to BDSM me, to infiltrate my mind, and to make me accept it willingly. I only enjoy the feeling of online BDSM. He might not like it, and his goal is to BDSM me in real life. His patience is limited. If he goes on and uses up all the online BDSM content, and I refuse to take photos or meet in person, will he lose confidence? Will he give up on me? He's observed me for so long; he won't give up easily. He won't limit himself to online BDSM. Anyway, I don't want it to happen in real life. Let's see who wins in the end. I strictly adhere to the rule of no more than twice a day for masturbation. I masturbated once last time. I haven't had sex these past few days, but masturbation makes me feel very good. I kneel like a bitch, masturbate, and fantasize about being disciplined by my master. He doesn't teach me to masturbate; he wants to turn me into a real masochist. He'll make me kneel and crawl to pee and drink water whenever he has the chance. A true masochist is someone who behaves even when their master isn't around. I don't want it to happen in real life; that's what makes me different from other masochists. Roujia's Diary: A Female M's Experience, Chapter Twenty-Three: Hand-drawn Illustrations. Yesterday morning around 6 AM, I was chatting with the master in my pajamas. He was flirting with me, and I recalled my master's training, calling me a "slave." Many girls have a humiliating mentality; didn't Nana also proactively tell the master to humiliate her? The master was flirting with me, but I wasn't in the mood, so I changed the subject and talked to him about the mysterious man. The master's prediction was accurate; the mysterious man changed his manners, asking me about my breast and genital types. He sent me pictures asking which type I was. He said he would draw a nude portrait based on my description, saying he would finish it today and send it to me to see if it looked like me. It was a hand-drawn sketch, a drawing, and he asked me to send a photo, which I refused. He wasn't just trying to trick me into sending a nude portrait; he said he liked drawing women's nudes. He said several women had been his nude models; some women had been trained by him, some had sex with him, and some did nothing but have him draw them. This is a terrifyingly skilled artist, talented and mature; so many women like him, but his marriage failed. He knew my psychology and interests, knew I liked hand-drawn art, and he was tempting me to send him nude photos, knowing I liked to see my own hand-drawn nudes. I didn't listen to him; I figured I wouldn't send them to him. I'd only sent nude photos to my online lovers, never to any "masters." I had feelings for my online lovers, and I only wanted him to see my nude photos. If I sent them to this mysterious person, he would have crossed my line. I asked him to send me photos of other women he had drawn, but he wouldn't. He had conditions; he wouldn't show or tell me everything until he completely subdued me. He sent me pictures of several different breast types, asking which one I had. I said hemispherical bowl-shaped. He said my breasts were the most beautiful of all types, big and full, and he really wanted to see my nude photos. I was a little shy. He not only asked me to send photos but also psychologically manipulated me into sending nude photos, then he would send me his "sacred object"—his penis. He knew that when a female submissive's heart is subdued, she reveres her master's sacred object and wants to see it. He started getting lewd, asking if I wanted to see his "sacred object." Of course I wanted to see my master's huge penis, my sacred object. Just thinking about it made my pussy wet. I knelt respectfully and chatted with him, waiting for him to send me the "sacred object," but I was too embarrassed to say I wanted to see it, so I just said "whatever." He knew I clearly wanted to see his "sacred object." He said he would call me, but he didn't. If he had called, his real voice would have tempted me to my limit. I was really looking forward to him drawing a nude portrait of me. He knows what I look like; I wonder if the portrait will be accurate. He'll definitely draw my breasts very realistically. I wonder what it will look like. Will I look like a bitch kneeling? If it's close enough, it will challenge my limits again. Will I send him a nude portrait to draw? This S is really a master. He understands women's psychology and has seen countless women. Maybe this is the first time he's met a special M like me. He doesn't send photos or meet me, but he's captured my heart, which means he's halfway to successfully "training" me. He knows I have a good figure, with nice breasts and buttocks, and he's extremely interested in me. This was full of challenges. He wouldn't let me see his sacred object unless I posted nude photos. Others would be eager to see his penis, but he deliberately didn't, making me even more eager to see it. It was full of challenges. He would never give up on me, never stop training me online, while I held firm to my bottom line, refusing to post nude photos or meet him in person. Conflicts arose, and as the days passed, only one person emerged victorious. Roujia's Diary: A Female M's Experience, Chapter Twenty-Four: A Hand-Drawn Mysterious Man sent me a hand-drawn picture of me sitting naked, my thighs spread in an M shape. The pose was too lewd; he drew it that way on purpose to humiliate me, but I wasn't offended. It was quite similar, the face was similar, the hair was similar. The face was a copy of my hand-drawn picture from my space, exactly the same, only the hair was changed to my current style. The labia minora were a bit short; if they were longer, it would look more like me. The nipples weren't big, but the details he drew were very similar. Before drawing, he asked me about the shape of my breasts, the size of my nipples, the size of my areolas, the shape of my pubic hair, and the characteristics of my genitals, which I told him. He asked me, "Little bitch, look where it doesn't resemble you," and I said it was about the same. He said, "You can't tell from this, you slut. Take off all your clothes and pose like this for a comparison." I shyly stripped naked, posing in this lewd way, exposing my cunt, as if waiting for my master's sacred object. I was shocked when I tried it. It was exactly the same! The shape of the pubic hair was identical—a palm-sized inverted triangle, not a Y-shape. Even the part where the vulva meets the thigh was drawn exactly the same. Even the shadow of the labia majora was drawn exactly the same. The shape of the breasts was also drawn perfectly, including the smallest details: the shape of the breasts, the areolas, the nipples—not a single difference, except my breasts were a little bigger. Even the way my arms were bent was exactly the same. This was amazing! I told him it was drawn based on his imagination, but how could it be so realistic? It was as if he had drawn it while looking at my naked body. Curiosity and stimulation made my vagina slowly wet. At that moment, he said, "Take a picture of what you look like now," his voice like a spell. He was truly a master; in this situation, most women would naturally take a picture for their master. But he was wrong. I didn't want to take nude photos for him. He knows my family, and giving them to him might cause trouble. He also knows my workplace. Other experienced subs also advised me not to send photos and not to meet him. My heart wasn't completely lost like my mother's. I remained clear-headed. I thought rationally. His promises of confidentiality and no coercion were all just his word. What could I do if he went back on his word? Others would have been completely lost, listening to everything he was told. I'm special. As long as I insisted on not sending nude photos and not meeting him, he would be helpless. He knows about my workplace, which must have been told to me by my mother. My mother has subdued me; I listen to him in everything. In my mother's eyes, her love for God surpasses her motherly love. He often tells me he knows my workplace and my home, and often says he can find me. There's no threat in his tone, but what does that really mean? He won't tell me his true feelings. I'm emotional yet rational. I think that's how I am. SM is mainly about training the heart. My heart is now submissive, but in some aspects, I don't completely obey him; I haven't been completely subdued. I've said before that I might change, even my mindset might change, perhaps developing a submissive mentality. But my principles and bottom line are not easily altered by anyone. If he were confident in subduing me and training me in person, why would he care about nude photos? Why does he keep asking me for nude photos? I have to be wary. I'm just playing along with him. What I enjoy is the feeling of being his submissive, the feeling of being controlled and trained online. I don't want it to actually happen. He doesn't think that way; his goal is to truly train and subdue me. He says we can be friends even if he doesn't become my master. Being friends in SM, especially if we're people I know in real life—is that even possible?
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