The girl in my dream

He put on his clothes and walked blankly out of Yuan Kexin's room.

The sky was clear, but it couldn't dispel the dark clouds that clouded his heart.

Was he really going to lose his dream slave? God! That was terrible—that beautiful, alluring body, that obedient soul.

Didn't she enjoy being abused? Why didn't she react when he whipped her again? Did she think he hadn't whipped her hard enough? Did she think his abuse yesterday was just a charade, lacking sincerity? Did she really need that real, inhuman, irrational brutality?

Did he have to move back to their old place, start sleepwalking again, and brutally
torture her in her dreams before she would accept him as her master?

Was only brutality able to maintain that master-slave relationship?

An Shaoting shook his head in anguish! Even if he could truly revert to his original, terrifying sleepwalking state, he couldn't bear the horrible, inhuman, subconscious cruelty within himself—and even if he could reclaim his lost dream slave in his dreams, it was still just a dream!

He didn't want to dream! He wanted a real slave—a real slave in this real world!
But the dream slave refused to accept him in the real world, to acknowledge him as her master.

No! He had to go back! He had to persuade his dream slave. Even if she refused to acknowledge him as her master, as long as she was willing for him to be her friend, that would be fine—he had never truly cherished the master-slave relationship maintained through violence—he wanted love! That natural, mutual love!

Yes! What the dream slave needed most right now was the comfort of a friend. Who else could she confide in besides him about her chaotic and desperate feelings? Who else could she open her twisted soul to besides him?

He rushed back to Yuan Kexin's door, banging urgently, frantically shouting, "Dream slave, open the door! Dream slave, open the door!"

There was no response.

He continued pounding on the door, but there was no sound—a deathly silence.

An Shaoting felt even more panicked—he dared not think of anything worse, and he ran downstairs like a whirlwind, then climbed up the fire escape, jumped to the platform in front of Yuan Kexin's window, and flung open the window, leaping into the room.
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself facing Yuan Kexin's confused and surprised gaze.

Seeing that she was unharmed, An Shaoting's pounding heart calmed down slightly. He gasped for breath as he said to Yuan Kexin, "Mengnu, you...you...listen to me...if you don't want to admit I'm your master...that's fine...but listen to me...we're still friends...right? We..."

"You...didn't I tell you to leave? You can't be my master...go away..."

"Mengnu, listen to me..."

"Go away...don't come in through this window again. This window is for my master. Please don't come in here...and don't come back."

"Mengnu...I am your master. If you need, I can still be like before..."
"Go away quickly. My master has a terrible temper. If he comes and sees you here, I don't know what he'll do to you. You'd better leave quickly."

"Ah? Mengnu? You still think that tyrannical master will come?"

"Go away! Go away! I don't want to see you again...waaaah...you...go away!waaaah..."
Yuan Kexin suddenly burst into tears. She wailed and shoved An Shaoting frantically toward the door.

Seeing her in agony, An Shaoting felt a sharp, agonizing pain in his heart. He couldn't bear to see his beloved suffer such cruel torment while he stood by helplessly.

An Shaoting was finally pushed out of the room and locked outside—the heart-wrenching cries still echoed from within.
An Shaoting's heart shattered.

He knew Yuan Kexin was becoming delirious, that she was somewhat deranged—knowing full well that he was her master, yet still fantasizing about another tyrannical master climbing in through her window.

God! It was all his fault, An Shaoting!

He was gripped by a desperate fear.

Fourteen.

An Shaoting arrived at the sex shop close to one in the morning. He was wearing his usual bathrobe, his eyes red from staying up all night.

He had spent the entire day waiting for midnight. He knew that this was around this time he usually started sleepwalking.
He wished he could have a lucid sleepwalking experience today—he wanted to buy a torture device here first, and then, as if he were truly sleepwalking, suddenly appear at Yuan Kexin's window—she didn't seem to fully believe he was truly her master; she seemed to still be waiting for her real "master" to arrive.

An Shaoting couldn't bear losing his dream slave. How could he lose her? Moreover, the dream slave needed him—though not the lucid him, but the violent An Shaoting from his dream.

An Shaoting couldn't return to his previous sleepwalking state—even if he could, he wouldn't want to—he wanted to possess her lucidly—possess his dream slave.

As soon as he entered the shop, the shop owner greeted him:

"Oh, it's A-Ting! Long time no see? Almost half a month, right?"

An Shaoting snorted coldly. The jumbled things in the box under Yuan Kexin's bed must have all been bought from this shop—not to mention how much money this owner had made in his dream, just thinking about how so many terrible and cruel torture devices were sold here made An Shaoting feel no goodwill towards this person.

This shop owner could be considered an accomplice in the torment of Yuan Kexin—without these instruments of torture he sold, Yuan Kexin's mind might not have become so twisted.

The shop owner, still shamelessly smiling, said, "Ha, still the same old you. Ah Ting, would you like to see our new arrivals? They're quite special. You're guaranteed to like them."

An Shaoting snorted again, utterly despising his fawning manner, but unable to vent his anger. He still needed to buy something here today.

The shop owner pulled a cardboard box from under the counter, lowering his voice mysteriously, and said to him, "Ah Ting, this is newly arrived, imported from Japan, not on the shelves yet. Take a look."

The shop owner opened the box, revealing plastic-packaged tubes of varying thicknesses and similar items, leaving An Shaoting completely bewildered.

"Look, this is a real enema tube. It's made of metal, so it won't break, and you can even unscrew it for easy cleaning."

An Shaoting stared at the tubes in shock, his disgust reaching its peak—he'd seen scenes of enemas in many brutal novels on Yuan Yuan's website, which he'd assumed were absurd sexual fantasies concocted by perverts. How could such cruel forms of abuse actually exist in real life? Who could endure such brutality? But he hadn't expected this place to actually sell these horrible things—which only fueled his contempt for the lewd-looking shopkeeper.

He frowned and pushed the tube away—he would never subject his dream slave to such extreme cruelty and disgusting humiliation. This was too much—even if Yuan Kexin enjoyed being abused, there had to be limits.

The shopkeeper sheepishly packed up the box, giving him a dismissive smirk.

An Shaoting ignored the shop owner and walked into the shop, nervously browsing the various goods.

He had been to this shop before. On the right, there was a row of pornographic videotapes, and on the left, there were many sex toys—various vibrators, vacuum tubes, inflatable dolls, and other common sex toys. The real torture devices were on a shelf at the far end against the wall—they weren't visible from the outside, but once you turned the corner, those horrific things would be revealed.

An Shaoting hadn't known what was inside before, but after accidentally wandering in once, he realized that such extremely obscene and perverse torture devices really existed here. He had naturally fled immediately then, not daring to even look closely—he never imagined that one day he would actually come here to buy such cruel torture devices.

Of course, he had been here many times before—always in dreams beyond his control. Today was the first time he had entered this place soberly.

The shelves were filled with a dazzling array of strange things, some of which he had seen in a box under Yuan Kexin's bed, but many more he had never seen before—and were simply unimaginable to him.

The packaging of various goods was blatantly printed with shocking and gruesome images of naked women being tortured, making him feel uncontrollably nauseous—nipple clamps, lip clamps, iron needles and nails, various barbed phallus models, whips of different sizes and thicknesses, belt buckles, and many other bizarre objects he couldn't even name; it was all there.
He was completely overwhelmed by this plethora of torture devices—he wanted something less cruel, but something different from the things in Yuan Kexin's room.

He finally chose a two-pronged vibrator, one large and one small, both covered in soft barbs about a centimeter long, indicating that it wasn't a typical entertainment toy, but a torture device designed to inflict unbearable numbness and itching. The packaging depicted the larger one for insertion into a woman's vagina, and the smaller one for insertion into the anus. What made this thing stand out most was its blood-red color, a horrifying sight.

He paid the bill at the shopkeeper expressionlessly; it was already past 1:30.

He quickly arrived at Yuan Kexin's residence, skillfully climbed the fire escape ladder to the platform, and jumped to her window, taking a few deep breaths.

His heart pounded with tension—he was almost always in a state of extreme anxiety and excitement whenever he came to see Yuan Kexin.

He coughed loudly, abruptly pushed open the window, and the light inside came on. Yuan Kexin sat up in bed, looking in alarm at the familiar figure in a bathrobe jumping in through the window.

An Shaoting's fierce face showed no tenderness. He coldly and viciously roared at Yuan Kexin, who was still half-sitting on the bed and seemed to have no color in her skin, "You lowly slave! You lowly slave! Why aren't you coming over here and crawling over?"
Yuan Kexin seemed to wake up from her daze, her eyes revealing a sincere joy. She quickly took off her nightgown and scrambled to her feet, answering excitedly and tremblingly,

"This slave welcomes Master... This slave deserves to die. This slave has neglected Master, please punish this slave."
Hearing the word "punish" again, An Shaoting's anger immediately flared up. He took off his shoes and stepped on her smooth back, pressing her body hard to the ground:

"You lowly slave. Do you especially like being punished by me?"

"Yes... This slave likes Master's punishment."

An Shaoting's anger rose even higher. He grabbed her hair, dragged her up and threw her onto the bed, making her scream in pain.

Yuan Kexin's screams of pain clenched An Shaoting's heart—although he knew she was truly tormented by his past absurd sleepwalking, her mind twisted to the point of finding pleasure in pain, such piercing cries would be unbearable even for the most numb person.

But he had no choice—he had to play this perverted role; only by treating her brutally could he gain her acceptance as his master.

He abruptly pulled the box from under the bed, found several chains, and bound Yuan Kexin's hands and feet to the bed frames at opposite ends, forcing her to lie flat on the bed in a spread-eagle position, unable to move.
He violently ripped off her bra and tore her panties, exposing her completely naked—with each tear, she screamed in terror, like the helpless lament of a pure virgin facing inescapable rape.

He picked up the blood-red mold and waved it in front of her eyes, mocking her with humiliation, "You lewd, lowly slave, do you want this kind of thing?"

"Ah... Ooh... Yes... Yes... Master... This slave is very lewd."

An Shaoting unbuttoned his robe, pulled down his underwear, and sat down on her stomach, pressing down on her until she screamed in agony.

The screams pierced his eardrums, invaded his nerves, and caused him unbearable pain. He had to slightly lift his buttocks to reduce the weight on her. At the same time, he forcefully inserted the large end of the blood-red mold into her already soaked vagina, then bent the smaller end and inserted it into her anus.
An Shaoting turned on the switch, and Yuan Kexin's moans behind him instantly turned into agonizing screams—her cries of pain cut like sharp knives into An Shaoting's heart. But he had to be ruthless—he was now the sleepwalking, tyrannical An Shaoting; the merciless, inhuman An Shaoting; the brutal An Shaoting driven by his subconscious.

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But now he was conscious! He was fully awake! It was like having his chest scalpel cut open without anesthesia. Even knowing that every pain he inflicted on Yuan Kexin might bring her pleasure, her agonizing screams were like powerful electromagnetic waves, transmitting each pain back to his heart—an unbearable pain!

An Shaoting dared not face the blood-red torture device raging against Yuan Kexin's lower body any longer. He rolled over, picked up the round nipple clamp with a chain from the box, hesitated for a few moments, then threw it away—the image of him cruelly pulling on that chain in his sleepwalking that day made him want to vomit just thinking about it.

He picked up another nipple clamp he had seen in a sex shop, which felt slightly better. He pressed his hands firmly against Yuan Kexin's breasts, clamping her nipples together as shown in the picture on the packaging.

Yuan Kexin let out another series of pitiful groans, her body contorting in agony—An Shaoting's heart twisted and clenched with pain.

An Shaoting mechanically performed these actions, a hazy feeling slowly creeping into his mind. In the room filled with the atmosphere of pain, he could no longer clearly distinguish his every movement.

He straddled her abdomen, pressing his penis between her clamped breasts.
To penetrate deeper, he cruelly lifted the nipple clamp, causing Yuan Kexin to scream in agony.

"You're a slutty, lowly slave. You just like being raped and violated."

"Aww...awww...yes...Master..."

An Shaoting grew increasingly enraged, taking a whip from the box and placing it in front of her head. He then knelt down on her neck and chest, facing her face, shoved his penis into her mouth, lifted her hair, and began to thrust violently into her mouth.

The moment it entered her warm, moist mouth, An Shaoting's penis immediately swelled and enlarged. The burning sensation made him involuntarily let out a comfortable groan in his throat—the pleasure mixed with the pain in his heart was like a few drops of cool water sprinkled on his dry, cracked, thirsty lips, making him desperately want more and more.

Ignoring Yuan Kexin's pain, he tightly grabbed her hair, shaking her head back and forth, and forcefully thrusting his iron-like penis into her throat—he had begun to go mad!

He then picked up the whip that was placed aside, and while riding on her neck, he thrust his penis in and out, while also fiercely lashing her abdomen, genitals, and between her thighs from behind, just like whipping a horse's rump to urge it forward.

An Shaoting's movements became more and more violent, more and more intense, causing Yuan Kexin's moans to gradually subside.

He had completely gone mad! His uncontrollable lust was like a wild horse, violently reaching its climax with the force of the hand holding her hair—an unprecedented climax!

Streams of vaginal fluid shot into her throat with each thrust.

"Aww! Aww! Aww! Aww!"

An Shaoting greedily climbed and extended through a strange web woven from pleasure and pain, all his consciousness lost in the violent rage of love and hate.

An Shaoting abruptly slammed her head down, watching it slide limply to one side, her pitiful face contorted in agony, a trickle of foamy white fluid slowly dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

He numbly cursed, "You filthy slave! You like me punishing you like this, don't you? You lewd slave, you like this, don't you? Say it! You filthy slave. You… hey, say something!"

An Shaoting violently shook Yuan Kexin's cheeks, watching her eyes tightly closed without any reaction, a chill ran down his spine. He shook Yuan Kexin's head violently, his heart pounding, then pressed his lips to her mouth to feel her breath—An Shaoting was instantly jolted awake from his dazed, violent state, his entire body plummeting from the peak of post-ejaculation pleasure to the depths of fear.

He shook her frantically and called out to her, but she didn't respond.

Terrified, he immediately untied her hands, bent her body over, and slapped her back hard, hoping to expel the semen stuck in her throat.

More semen flowed from her mouth, but she still didn't move. An Shaoting's hands and feet turned cold with fear.
He turned her over again, threw away the clips on her nipples, and, while breathing heavily into her mouth, pressed his hands and feet against her chest repeatedly.

An Shaoting went mad again—he frantically sucked at Yuan Kexin's mouth and pressed her body hard, as if ravaging and ravaging this fragile flesh.

Just as he was about to despair, Yuan Kexin suddenly coughed, spitting mouthfuls of semen onto him—he excitedly hugged her and shouted, "Mengnu! Ah, Mengnu! You're awake! Mengnu!"
Yuan Kexin slowly opened her eyes, seeing An Shaoting's anxious and concerned gaze, and the white semen smeared on his mouth.

"Ah? You…"

She stared at him in disbelief, then looked at her body in confusion. An Shaoting said to her with deep affection, "Mengnu. I'm so happy you're awake. I…I…"

An Shaoting's nose tingled, tears welled up in his eyes, and he choked, unable to speak.

Yuan Kexin sat up abruptly, pushing him away forcefully, as if she had just woken from a terrible nightmare. She asked him in a daze, "What happened to me? You just... you knocked me

unconscious... I desperately tried to give you CPR, and I finally managed to bring you back to life... I... I was so scared..."

"Ah?! You..."

A terrifying expression appeared on Yuan Kexin's face, her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling as she struggled to speak. Finally, she held back her tears of unbearable grief, and with a hard-won strength, coldly said to An Shaoting, "You... do you know... how my master treated me?"

Her words struck An Shaoting's heart like a hammer blow—his body jolted violently, and he immediately realized that Yuan Kexin had once again seen through him as not being her true, tyrannical "master."

"What...what are you saying, Mengnu?"

Yuan Kexin suddenly became unusually lucid, telling An Shaoting in an extremely calm tone, "I am not your slave. You are not my master. My master would never do this to me, it's all a lie..."
"...Mengnu, you...you almost died! Do you understand?"

"Go away! What does my life or death have to do with you? I don't need your help. Don't come back. Never come back again."

An Shaoting's sorrow was indescribable. He looked at Yuan Kexin's resolute expression, trembling, and pleaded with her, "Mengnu, I beg you not to send me away, Mengnu...I really am your master, I..."
"Hmph! My master would never care about my life or death, he would never beg me. Have you ever seen a master beg his slave?"

"..."

An Shaoting felt cold all over, unable to cry. His mind was numb, unable to think, unable to believe that he had once again gained and lost his Mengnu.

"Get out! Get out of here right now! Waaaaah..."

Yuan Kexin's calm face suddenly erupted into painful sobs. She shook her head violently, her whole body writhing in agony.

An Shaoting stared stiffly at Yuan Kexin, who was writhing on the bed, completely frozen in the abyss of pain.

Fifteen

An Shaoting moved back to his old apartment. He also stopped taking the medication the doctor had prescribed. He

started smoking again—although he hated the smell and was always choked by the thick smoke, which brought tears to his eyes.
He stopped going to bed on time, ate whatever he could find, and tried to make a mess of his life.
He hoped he could return to his old sleepwalking state.

Yuan Kexin seemed to be in a state of mental collapse these days; she hadn't been seen leaving the house for several days.
For the first few days, An Shaoting would knock on her door every day—she never opened it, unwilling to let him in or speak to him—but he knew she needed him.

Not the conscious An Shaoting, of course, but the An Shaoting in her dreams, controlled by her subconscious.

An Shaoting dared not try jumping through the window to find her again. He didn't know how she would react, but she couldn't withstand any more stimulation—her fragile heart couldn't bear so much physical and mental pressure.

An Shaoting knew she must be waiting—waiting for her true "master."

He lived his days in a daze, not knowing when he would return to his dream, not knowing if he would return to Mengnu's side after returning, and not knowing how Mengnu would react when she saw her master.

He really wished there was a drug that could instantly put him into a dream! Enter that sleepwalking world.
He smoked cigarette after cigarette, reading one brutal erotic novel after another on the Yuanyuan website. So many intensely stimulating descriptions of the senses, yet they couldn't excite him at all.

A rustling sound came from the doorway.

He didn't turn his head—nothing in his life could quickly capture his attention anymore—until, before he went to sleep, he found a note under the door.

"Master, please punish your servant again tonight. Your servant."

An Shaoting's heart began to pound.

He didn't know why Mengnu would send him such an invitation. Had she suddenly come to her senses? Did she no longer care about his feigned cruelty? Or did she want him to display genuine cruelty—the kind that wasn't feigned, but a natural expression of his cruel nature?

Suddenly, a clear understanding dawned on him—since he could display such a subconscious cruelty in his dreams, didn't this prove that his true nature was extremely cruel and tyrannical? If he could simply shed his mask of hypocrisy, wouldn't he naturally become the cruel "master" that Mengnu longed for?

He was overjoyed at his discovery—Good heavens! Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? His utter failure last time stemmed from his constant focus on feigning tyranny, on donning that mask of hypocritical cruelty, instead of the other way around—tearing off the mask of feigned benevolence and exposing his true, tyrannical nature!
Ah!

he cried out inwardly—he finally understood why Yuan Kexin wouldn't let him in—she couldn't allow him to see her wearing that mask of benevolence; she was waiting for the true master.

Hadn't she given him a hint: You are no longer my master. My master will enter through that window.
She had been waiting for the real him—the him stripped of his hypocrisy, the him of his true nature, the him who was cruel and tyrannical.

But last time, he had revealed feigned pity at the end, breaking her heart.

Fine! Tear off your hypocritical mask, reveal your tyrannical nature—that's who you are! That's the real you! That's your true self! That's your beastly self!

An Shaoting rallied once more.

He wanted to find his dream slave as a true "master"—even if not for himself, but for her.

He showered, put on his bathrobe, drank a cup of coffee, grabbed a credit card, and confidently strode towards the sex shop.

As soon as he entered, he was greeted by the owner:

"Hey, it's A-Ting! What are you looking to buy today?"

"Boss, do you still have that enema device you showed me last time?"

"Ah, yes, yes, yes. Wait a moment."

An Shaoting paid with his credit card and then tore open the packaging and threw it away—he didn't need to read the instructions—his instincts guided him.

He arrived at Yuan Kexin's window at two in the dead of night—a time he often came to when he sleepwalked.

He suddenly kicked open the window. The light came on. He leaped over the table by the window and jumped inside.

Yuan Kexin seemed to have been sitting on the bed waiting for him all along. She gulped down several mouthfuls of water from her cup, then abruptly threw off the covers, tearing off her pajamas and revealing only her underwear. She rushed to An Shaoting's feet, her body trembling as she greeted him, "Welcome, Master."

"You lowly slave… climb onto the bed and handcuff yourself!"

With his rude command, An Shaoting kicked her near the ear.

Yuan Kexin hurriedly crawled under the bed, dragged out the box, quickly took out several pairs of handcuffs, and cuffed her hands and feet to the bed frame. She knelt prostrate in the center of the bed, trembling as she awaited her master's punishment.

An Shaoting rummaged through the kitchen, mixing cooking oil, soy sauce, vinegar, cooking wine, and water in a bowl. He then added some five-spice powder, bean powder, chili powder, and some other unidentified powder. He stirred the mixture together and placed it on the small cabinet by the bed. He roared at the trembling Yuan Kexin, "You lowly slave! I'm going to marinate you, roast you, steam you, boil you! I'm going to put some seasoning in your stomach first, you lowly slave. Do you like being cooked and eaten by me? Huh? You lowly slave!"

"Ah… Master…"

Yuan Kexin's tearful eyes seemed to be spitting out flames of desire, her whole body trembling with fear.

Seeing the lust burning even amidst her fear, An Shaoting's anger surged.

He abruptly pulled a round nipple clamp with a chain from the box, forcefully looping the chain around her back and clamping her breasts tightly from below. Then he straddled her waist, pulling her breasts apart like a horse being pulled by its reins, causing her to immediately raise her head and neigh in pain.

He slapped Yuan Kexin's snow-white buttocks hard, panting heavily, his body bouncing up and down like he was riding a wild horse.

Yuan Kexin's small body was like a small boat, rising and falling in the raging storm.

An Shaoting gradually entered a numb daze, feeling his blood rising, surging, and churning, as if he were riding a wild horse across an endless wilderness.

He sealed Yuan Kexin's mouth with a gag with a small ball attached, turning her piercing screams into sobs in her throat.

He carried the pungent liquid to her legs, then straddled her waist, filled the syringe he'd brought with the mixture using a metal tube, screwed on a finer tip, and inserted it into her anus, injecting the entire tube of liquid into her body.

An Shaoting's groin suddenly tensed, and a pitiful scream came from behind him.

An Shaoting felt his blood begin to boil again, his whole body floating in a trance-like state. Yuan Kexin's painful moans gradually transformed into a beautiful musical rhythm, accompanying his soul as it soared through the air.

He drew another tube of liquid and injected it into her body, an even more agonizing scream echoing behind him. Her groin writhed on his thighs, a strange stimulation causing his penis to swell to its maximum.

Ah!

This was An Shaoting's true nature—experiencing the exhilarating sexual pleasure in violence, discovering the soul-stirring melody of sex in the moans of the abused!

He abruptly ripped off the gag from Yuan Kexin's mouth, letting the enchanting music stimulate his senses even more intensely.

He was completely lost in a frenzy.

His penis swelled even larger inside his pants, and his surging, wild desire grew stronger within him. He opened his robe, pulled down his underwear, knelt between Yuan Kexin's legs, and thrust his burning-hot penis into her wet, juicy vagina, the sounds of their thrusting echoing out.

He pulled the chains on her nipple clamps, and the enchanting music resumed, merging with each thrust to create a beautiful, soul-stirring symphony.

He was completely immersed in that frenzied, brutal pleasure.

He continued to pump fluid from the basin, then force-feed it into Yuan Kexin's body—her screams grew louder and louder; then gradually faded and weakened.

An Shaoting was completely immersed in that frenzied pleasure, his waist thrusting in and out repeatedly, exploring the fiery flesh with his stretched-out sexual member, accompanied by the screams and moans of a weak body that stimulated his soul. He sought and created the greatest and strongest primal, wild pleasure deep within the woman's flesh.

He became increasingly frenzied—he truly experienced his own sadistic self: in the process of cruelly tormenting the frail female body, he gradually achieved a wonderful union of spirit and flesh, the pleasure of soul and body rising and falling, sending him to a world of ecstasy.

The intense pleasure from his lower body mixed with the excitement of his mind stimulated all his nerves and made his thrusting movements more and more violent, until finally he pulled the chain and thrust in with a bang, reaching the most intense sexual peak in that indescribable, wonderful moment—the pinnacle of the superposition of spiritual and physical climax.
"Ah..."

His entire body went limp against Yuan Kexin's smooth back. The immense pleasure seemed to have drained all the essence from his body, leaving him in a void from which he couldn't catch his breath for a long time.

He withdrew his wet penis from Yuan Kexin's lower body, sat on the headboard between her head and the wall, and grabbed her hair to lift her face.

A sweet smile appeared on Yuan Kexin's tear-streaked face as she murmured weakly, "You... are my master... my true master... my forever... forever master..."
As she spoke, she brought her mouth to his limp penis, stretching out her tongue to greedily lick it, finally taking his entire body into her mouth, gently and tenderly licking and sucking.

"...My master... my true... master..."

Her voice grew softer and softer. Her sucking movements became gentler and lighter. Her tongue moved weaker and slower… She stopped moving—her whole body stiffened on the bed, maintaining the perfect sex slave posture!

She finally stopped moving—after bringing her master to the most perfect union of spirit and flesh
, she completed her final cleansing duty as a sex slave.

She stopped moving forever—having found her true master and given him everything in her life: her spirit and flesh!

Sixteen

An Shaoting sat in front of his computer in his apartment, recalling every fragment of memory in his mind while randomly typing Chinese on the keyboard. The more he rushed to type, the more typos he made, which greatly annoyed him.

He had to quickly record the memories still stored in his mind—he was afraid he would forget them soon—or worse: he might suddenly wake up from this state—he was no longer sure if he was still dreaming or already awake.

Everything seemed like a dream—a bloody and terrifying dream, yet beautiful and moving; a violent and cruel dream, yet incredibly wonderful.

He couldn't even remember the ending of the dream—he was in a hazy, half-awake state, unable to recall how he left his dream slave's room or returned to his own place. The numbness prevented him from feeling pain, much like a dream. In dreams, he could feel all sorts of sensations: panic, fear, joy, longing, disappointment, tension, excitement, love, anxiety, sorrow, agitation, pleasure, and so on, but he couldn't feel the real physical pain—not even being stabbed in the heart, shot through the chest, pushed off a high building, or branded with a hot iron.

A sudden knock on the door startled him awake.

He sat blankly in front of the computer, pinching his thigh hard a few times. A faint pain reached his already numb brain, leaving him unsure whether he was awake or dreaming.

The knocking started again.

He jumped up reflexively and rushed to open the door.

A postman stood at the door, looking suspiciously at An Shaoting, who was disheveled, with red and swollen eyes, and wearing a bathrobe.

"Uh… sir, are you An Shaoting?"

"Ah… yes… yes. I think so. I am… the real An Shaoting."

"You… what do you mean 'should be'? Do you have any identification? Here's a letter for you. I need to see your identification before I can give it to you." "

Ah… yes… wait a minute."

An Shaoting was annoyed at being disturbed by this kind of person—he needed to quickly record the dream he was about to forget.
He quickly rummaged through the pockets of every piece of clothing he wore, and finally found his wallet on the table. He hurriedly handed it to the postman, watching the man repeatedly check his identification with some guilt—he was worried that the man would say he wasn't the real An Shaoting.

After checking his identification, the postman said to him, "Ah, yes, it really is Mr. An. Didn't you move out more than a month ago and then suddenly move back? It's really confusing us mail carriers. We can't figure out which is the new address and which is the old address, so we had to come and

bother you." "Ah... I'm sorry to trouble you. Thank you so much, thank you so much."

The thick letter was addressed to An Shaoting but had no sender's address, leaving An Shaoting wondering where it came from. However, he had no time to worry about such things; he was eager to record his "dream."
He threw the letter on the bed and sat down at the computer, but the interruption by the postman had made it difficult for him to find his train of thought. He cursed a few times in annoyance, took a sip of strong coffee, and then slowly began to recall that he had also drunk a cup of coffee like this the last time he went to Meng Nu's place, and gradually recalled more details of that day.

He remembered receiving that note that day, which addressed him as "Master," instantly waking him from the confusion of the past few days. He stood up and began searching for the extremely meaningful note, finally finding it on the bed, under the envelope he had just received.

He pulled out the note, and the familiar handwriting immediately caught his eye:

"Master, please punish your servant again tonight. Yours, your servant."

The handwriting was neat and tidy in blue ballpoint pen, quite similar to the handwriting on the envelope earlier—ah?

An Shaoting suddenly noticed the handwriting on the envelope, a strong feeling shocking him.

With trembling hands, he picked up the letter and carefully read it twice. He didn't dare to tear it open rashly as he usually did, but instead found a small knife and carefully cut it open from one side. Several thick sheets of paper were folded together. He slowly unfolded them, his wildly beating heart making it almost impossible for him to hold the paper properly.

A familiar word caught his eye: "Master."

"Master, please allow me to call you that one more time. I know that you, the one reading this letter, are not my true master. My true master only appears in my dreams. In your dreams. But please let me call you 'Master' again! You look so alike that I couldn't tell you apart.

Oh! Just thinking of my master's ruthless, cruel, and capricious nature makes my lower body wet.

I am such a wanton slave.

Let me start from the beginning!"

It was a night three or four months ago when my master, holding a leather whip, suddenly kicked open my window and burst into my room. In that terrifying moment, my heart pounded wildly. The fear of being raped and ravaged made my whole body tremble. Oh! How wanton I was! At that moment, my lower body was aroused by fear, burning with unbearable lust, and my vagina leaked copious amounts of vaginal fluid. The intense sexual stimulation from that extreme, terrifying fear was even more intense than the feeling of masturbating alone.
Oh! My master! His cold, merciless eyes were like two powerful magnetic fields, fixing me there, unable to move. With unimaginable cruelty, he grabbed my hair, threw me onto the bed, and violently ripped off my nightgown. Oh! I was immediately aroused by immense fear. An unbelievable sexual climax.

My master pulled off my underwear, forced me onto the bed, and began to punish me with a brutal whipping. The excruciating pain repeatedly stimulated my nerves, fueling my already heightened lust. That unforgettable pleasure gave me my first taste of sexual climax.

His enormous male organ appeared before my eyes for the first time, terrifying me to the point of almost fainting. It was horrifying! He forcefully shoved it into my mouth. Oh! How stimulating! In that terrifying moment, my lust surged again, and I became incredibly aroused.

He roughly shoved his enormous member into my mouth, grabbing my hair and pulling violently. Under his brutality, my nerves were numb, unable to distinguish between the pain and the pleasure of sexual climax. The instant he ejaculated countless sperm into my throat, I reached a frenzied peak with him!
From that moment on, I became completely my master's slave. Whipped, abused, raped.
Every time he suddenly jumped into my window, my lust would surge, anticipating what particularly cruel sex toy he would use on me. Every time he appeared at my window, he brought a sex toy.
The mere thought of that unpredictable terror fills me with indescribable excitement.

But my master doesn't come to see me often. He might not show up for days, or even come for nights on end to rape and abuse me.

Until one day, I saw you in that supermarket. Oh! The involuntary fear I felt immediately made my genitals wet. The contradictory feelings of fearing you yet wanting to be suddenly captured by you excited me to the extreme. I later learned that you weren't my real master. But how could I tell you apart from my master then?

I hid in terror. I couldn't imagine how my master would punish me if he suddenly found me. Perhaps he would grab my hair on the spot? Or rip off my clothes? My master always warned me that I had to take off my clothes as soon as I saw him. But I didn't know what he would do to me in that mall. I couldn't imagine the humiliation of being forced to take off my clothes. That would be too terrifying. That terror immediately caused my genitals to overflow with lustful fluid, soaking my underwear.

Later, the mere thought of the fear of being forced exposed would arouse my lust. Several times, I found myself drawn to that supermarket, not to buy anything, but simply to experience that agonizing thrill.
Oh! You wouldn't believe how arousing it was for me to walk around that store.

Then one day, you appeared. I was caught off guard and instinctively ran to the side, arousing your suspicion. Little did I know you weren't my master. If I hadn't run away, you probably wouldn't have recognized me, and perhaps none of our subsequent stories would have happened.

You didn't force me to expose myself or punish me severely as I had imagined. You actually agreed to let me perform oral sex on you in the elevator. This actually made me feel a little disappointed. But I still didn't know you weren't my real master.

That day, when the elevator doors suddenly opened, we were so embarrassingly seen by others, and the shame of being exposed excited me immensely. I was such a lewd person. Afterwards, I wandered into that store several times, hoping to be caught again by you, whom I thought was my master. I saw you twice more, but the fear prevented me from stepping forward; I merely followed you stealthily, too afraid to approach.

Later, after discovering you frequented the "Yuan Yuan" Lantern Festival shop, I wandered around the area several times, hoping for something unusually terrifying to happen. And sure enough, I encountered you again. Face to face, leaving me no escape. Oh! In that moment of extreme terror, my lower body instantly became wet.

I was forced to call you "Master." After that elevator encounter, my master told me I had to call him "Master" every time I saw him. But that day, perhaps you couldn't hear me clearly or couldn't believe it, you repeatedly made me shout "Master" loudly, filling me with a mixture of terror and excitement! I couldn't imagine what would happen if someone heard. It was terrifying! Terrifying enough to arouse my lust and ignite my passion.

But you disappointed me. Of course, it wasn't your fault; I had mistaken you for someone else. You didn't force me to do anything terrible on that bustling street; instead, you agreed to come back to my room with me.

From that moment on, I began to doubt you, wondering if you only came to see my master at night.

But oh!

You and my master look exactly alike, how could I tell them apart! Yet, you and my master are so different. When you whipped me, I still felt incredibly excited, but it was nowhere near as terrifying as when my real master beat me. Except for one time, when you even held a knife to me. Oh! I was instantly gripped by terror. It was absolutely horrifying!

But you weren't really going to punish me with that knife. Oh! I couldn't understand why my master would tell me that he wouldn't punish me if I was obedient. My master would never say such a thing!
I finally began to truly doubt that you were my master when you suddenly came to my room after my master hadn't shown up for two weeks. Oh! You probably don't know how deeply you broke my heart! In those days, I wandered the streets every day, in supermarkets, in the "Yuan Yuan" glutinous rice ball shop, in every place where I might see you. How I longed to see my master again! How I longed for my master to punish me with the most brutal methods!

But after disappearing for so long, you were completely different the moment we met. You spoke to me in such a gentle tone, telling me to call you Mengnu from now on, and repeatedly saying that you would never again torment or punish me so cruelly. Oh! I could hardly believe my ears. I couldn't believe that if my master had truly abandoned me, how could I go on living? My master had only been gone for two weeks, and I was already restless, unable to eat or drink, completely lost.

But how could I have imagined that when I finally saw him again, he was like a different person, without a trace of his violent temper?

I suddenly realized that you might not be the same person as my original master. This gave me some hope. My real master would come looking for me. But I still dared not ask you rashly. You can hardly imagine the place my master holds in my heart. How could I dare to question him to his face?

I felt nothing at all, like a wooden doll being manipulated by you. I don't blame you. But I am truly heartbroken.

You are so good to me, but I cannot enjoy it. My whole being belongs to my master, my true master.

You may remember that day when you raped me—actually, you didn't rape me, but rather made love to me very gently, and then suggested taking me out to dinner. Oh! At that moment, I thought you had devised a vicious way to humiliate me, first pretending to love me and make me your lover, and then taking me out in public to expose me or make me do something even more shameful and disgraceful.

I was immediately gripped by fear, my body burning and my genitals becoming wet. What a thrilling adventure that would be! I would put on the clothes you designated, dress up as a lady, only to be further humiliated by being exposed in public or forced to do extremely shameful things. At that moment, I was filled with both fear and anticipation, my lust rising so high that my whole body was burning with heat.
Oh! But you utterly disappointed me!

You simply took me outside as if I were a lover, without making the slightest indecent move. Your polite demeanor made it clear to me that you could not possibly be my master. How could my master's coldness, ruthlessness, and cruelty transform into such tenderness? So when you came to see me again the next day, I immediately and bravely pointed out that you were an imposter. Oh! You didn't get angry! You were still so tender towards me. My last hope of being brutally beaten by you was completely dashed.

Since you are not my master, I began to suspect that you might be my master's twin brother. After all, you look so alike that it's impossible to tell you apart. I began to think that you must have locked up your brother, because my master had complained about who had locked him up during his last visit. I even worried that you might have killed him. But I never imagined that you would have the exact same scar as my master!

At that moment, I felt like I was going to collapse. But then, you gave me a tiny glimmer of hope, a false hope. You told me that you could still torture and punish me in the most brutal ways, just like before. While I was still doubting you, you suddenly became fierce, and the expression on your face was exactly the same as my master's, making me think that I could return to the past, to that absurd yet incredibly beautiful moment of happiness.
I thought I could taste that utterly terrifying punishment from my master again.

When you whipped me, I really hallucinated. I thought I was really being brutally punished by my master again. I was so excited that my whole body became hot and itchy, and I reached orgasm with your first lash, my genitals flowing with a lot of vaginal fluid.

But, but you, my hope was cruelly burst like a soap bubble. After whipping me, you actually pulled me to the bed, kissed me passionately, and made love to me, even apologizing. Oh! How foolish you were! What master in this world would apologize to his slave?

You have no idea how cruelly you destroyed all my hopes. But what truly plunged me into utter despair was that night. Oh! I never dreamed that my master was just a sleepwalker like you! And you even had a doctor cure your sleepwalking, which meant I had lost you forever! Oh! Do you know how cruel this was to me? My world completely collapsed that night!

Do you know how I found out your terrible secret of sleepwalking? You cured your sleepwalking, but you probably didn't know that you also talked a lot in your sleep. You repeated all your secrets over and over again, right in my ear. Oh! I was in unbearable pain then. If only

your personality had changed, I could still hope you could change back. But if the world I depend on for survival is just your dream, and my master is just you in that dream, and you've completely cured your sleepwalking, wouldn't you have utterly destroyed my entire world? Oh! How painful it is for me!

I know I can't blame you. You're a good person. But how could you be so foolish as to think that a master-slave relationship could be maintained by love rather than by tyranny? In your dreams, you repeatedly said you would love me and would never abuse me again. But where in this world can a master-slave relationship be maintained by love?

You may have understood this later, but it was too late. You made a final effort. That night last week, you even wore my master's usual robe and kicked open my window in the middle of the night with a horrible sex toy. For a moment, I truly thought my real master had returned. You did it so well, so realistically.
That night, I was tormented by you many times, trembling with sexual climax, flowing with blissful fluids under the intense stimulation. Oh! You almost succeeded. I actually hallucinated, believing my true master had truly returned, just as he had tormented me before. You tortured me to the peak of my sexual desire, suffocating me until I passed out with your enormous male genitalia.

It was like a dream. But when I woke up… Oh!

But at the last moment, you ruined everything you had meticulously planned. You actually… Oh! You have no idea how heartbroken I was! You actually performed CPR on me, sucking the filth out of my throat mouth-to-mouth. Did you forget you were supposed to act like my master? Do you know how my master treats me?
Every time I was tortured into unconsciousness, he would either drag me to the toilet and revive me with urine or cold water, or he would berate me even more harshly for faking death and beat me awake from my unconscious state. How could he condescend to save me, perform CPR on me, and… even shed tears for me! Oh! What master in this world would shed tears for his slave!

I was so stupid. How could I have expected your performance to become real? No matter how cruel or ruthless you become, it's all an illusion. Everything is just an illusion.

How can a dream become reality?

When you dream, you must believe your dream is the real world, and I am merely your slave in that real world. That's why you call me a dream slave, isn't it?

But where is my real world? I have no dreams. I've vaguely felt that every night my master jumps into my room is a dream. But it's not a dream; the wounds that appear on my body each morning tell me it's not a dream. That is the real world I live in.

From the first time you jumped into my room, I've only lived in your dream world. Your dream world has become my real world, the world upon which my entire life depends.

When you later meet me in another world, I still believe I'm living in that real world. But you possess two worlds, and I must jump between them.
How wonderful it would be if you could always keep your dream world! So, at least half of my world is still real, and I might still be able to live; that lingering hope can still sustain me.

But you've decided to end your dream world: the world that is most real to me. What a cruel decision!

Your dream is over, and my life can only end too!

I stubbornly believed that my real world still existed. But now I finally understand that I was completely wrong.
Your real world, once destroyed by you, can never be rebuilt, despite your great efforts.
Everything must end! I don't regret the end of my life. I don't regret it at all. I was so happy, every night with my master.

My master is gone, and I must go with him.

I've decided to end my world tonight. I've given you another note asking you to come and see me off. Of course, to see me off in the image of my master. I know it's all fake, but this is all I can get. I hope you won't disappoint me tonight.

When you jump into my room, I will drink a large amount of sleeping pills. I estimate I can give you more than an hour. I hope I can satisfy you. I will treat you as my true master, allowing you to find the greatest satisfaction in your dream slave.

I have also written another simple will for my departure, and I estimate you won't encounter any police trouble because of my death. If you really can't explain things to the police, you can just give them this letter. You will not be held responsible for anything you do while sleepwalking.

I know you are a very kind person, and I have never blamed you for that cruel decision you made. If it were me, I would have made the same decision. From any perspective, this decision was the best.
Please don't be sad about my departure. What master would grieve for the death of a slave, wouldn't you say?

It's all my fault!

Because I am a lewd, lowly slave! An incorrigible, lowly slave!

Master, take care!

Your slave, [Date

]

[Seventeenth]

An Shaoting stood blankly at the street corner, a cigarette between his fingers, unsure of where to go or what to do.

He suddenly began to wonder if he was dreaming. He reached out and grabbed at the air, but his hand was empty.

Wasn't this a dream? But why did he feel a faint pain in his heart?

Night was falling, and the lights of the "Yuan Yuan" Lantern Festival shop across the street came on.

He thought of Mengnu—it was right outside this Lantern Festival shop that he first heard her call him "Master."

The throbbing pain in his heart gradually intensified, like the anesthetic slowly wearing off, leaving the pain that had been numbed growing stronger.

Mengnu shouldn't have left.

He thought this over and over again. He felt he had found his true self—the tyrannical An Shaoting—the An Shaoting who only manifested himself in dreams, driven by his subconscious.
Wasn't this the true master Mengnu had been searching for?

She had indeed acknowledged it before she left: he was her true master, her eternal master.

But why did his heart still ache more and more? If he had found that cruel, ruthless self, why was he heartbroken over Mengnu's departure? He shouldn't feel pain—he should be heartless, merciless, and without compassion.

Perhaps he still hadn't grasped his true self? The real An Shaoting?

Who was the real An Shaoting?

He suddenly became confused.

If the real An Shaoting was the one in his sleepwalking state, then who was he now?

Perhaps, as Meng Nu said, his sleepwalking world was the real world.

Perhaps, he was just having a dream in that real world—a very long dream.

Yes! He was in that dream now—only in this dream could he feel pain. He was walking down the street, in his sleepwalking within that real world.

How terrifying sleepwalking was!

He suddenly felt afraid—was he going to live in this terrible, painful dream forever, never to wake up again?

He threw the cigarette butt, which was almost burning his fingers, on the ground and stomped on it hard. It seemed he wanted to wake himself from the dream.

But he suddenly realized that a sleepwalker should not be awakened in a dream. A chill ran down his spine, making him shiver.

He took out his cigarette case from his pocket, lit the last cigarette, threw the case on the ground, and stomped on it, slowly crushing and grinding it.

He both hoped to wake up from this sleepwalking state quickly and felt a sense of fear, wondering what negative consequences might arise if he suddenly woke up. Now, he could only continue his sleepwalking.

He took several puffs of his cigarette and heard a familiar melody drifting from afar:

"Girl across the way, look over here, look over here, look over here, the performance here is wonderful, please don't pretend to ignore me… I look left, right, up, down, and it turns out every girl is extraordinary. I've thought and thought, guessed and guessed, the girls' thoughts are really strange…"

An Shaoting listened to the song in a daze, unable to connect it to himself.

Why was it so familiar?

He shook his head painfully, taking deep drags on the cigarette between his fingers, the thick smoke causing him to cough violently.

He still couldn't get used to the bitter, pungent taste of cigarettes—but he kept smoking one after another. Perhaps, as the doctor said, subconsciously he enjoyed trying this bitter taste he had never experienced before?
No one can truly know what their subconscious is.

But he knew.

He strode to a brightly lit street shop, pointed to the cigarettes in the counter, and said,
"Please give me a pack of Marlboro."

A young woman walked to the other side of the glass counter but didn't open it to get the cigarettes.

He looked up blankly and saw a pure-looking girl with long hair, her head slightly lowered, her eyes brimming with tears, her pretty lips trembling with fear, and through her white teeth, she managed to squeeze out a weak "Master..."

[The End]

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The girl in my dream

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