After the rules were modified, she willingly became a captive.

"What's the matter?" The man behind stepped forward, making a move to kick her. "Lost your tongue?" Shen Xing instinctively flinched back, but her hand subtly moved to her waist, feigning resistance—a mere pretense, of course. She gauged the distance precisely. As the man's hand touched her shoulder, she swiftly swung her short blade. The move looked fierce, but it was full of openings. Sister Hong merely sidestepped, her hand snapping out to grip Shen Xing's wrist, twisting it with a gentle force that yanked her arm behind her back. The short blade clattered to the ground. Shen Xing grunted, struggling a couple of times, but to no avail. Sister Hong's grip was like an iron clamp on her wrist bone. With her other hand, she pulled down the bundle of coarse rope from her waist. "Still stubborn," Sister Hong's voice was flat, betraying no emotion. "Tie her up and take her back. The POW camp is short on labor lately." Two male team members grabbed her shoulders, one on each side, pressing her arms tightly behind her. Shen Xing's heart suddenly began to pound, not from fear, but from a decade-long yearning that surged through her veins from her chest to her fingertips, making her tremble uncontrollably. She buried her face in her arm, biting her lip to prevent any hint of her true feelings from showing. She could only feel Sister Hong's fingers touching her wrist, the rough hemp rope scraping against her skin, carrying a dry warmth from the sun. This was nothing like the times she used to hide in her bedroom, binding herself in front of the mirror. When she bound herself, she always knew where the next loop would go, always left a loose knot that could be undone, always stopped just before reaching her limit. No matter how harsh, it was always within her control. But now, it was different. The rope was in someone else's hands. The tightness of each loop, the position of every knot, was entirely out of her command. Sister Hong's movements were practiced, clearly done countless times. She first brought Shen Xing's wrists together, wrapping the hemp rope around them four times. With each pass, she tightened it, the rope slowly digging into her flesh. It stung a little, but mostly it was a numb sensation. Blood slowly pooled in her fingertips, making them tremble slightly. After binding her wrists, she pulled the rope upwards, winding it around her forearms up to just below her elbows. Then, she crossed the rope loops from both arms, tightening them to press her forearms firmly together, securing them tightly behind her back. Finally, she threaded the end of the rope through the inside of her collar at the nape of her neck and tied a secure knot, positioned just out of her reach. "There, you can't get out of this," Sister Hong patted the knot at her neck, then wrapped the rope around her waist three times horizontally. After tightening, she connected it to the loops on her forearms. "Walk slowly, or I'll yank you. Don't try any tricks." Shen Xing stumbled forward as she was pulled. The position of her arms behind her back made her chest naturally push forward. The wind blew through her thin jacket, the fabric clinging to her body. The knot at her back rubbed against the skin of her neck with each step, a tingling sensation shooting down her spine and directly to her lower abdomen. She bit her lip, swallowing back a muffled groan that threatened to escape, forcing a look of anger and fear onto her face, while the tips of her ears burned uncontrollably. Ten years. It had been ten years since she first saw, from behind the walls of a POW camp, a female captive being dragged away, her hands bound behind her, her mouth gagged. She was just sixteen then, fresh from conquering White Ridge with her unit, standing on the city wall in blood-stained armor. Below, she watched the woman, her hair disheveled, the rope leaving deep red marks on her skin. A cloth gag muffled her cries to whimpers. As she was dragged along, she stumbled, her knees hitting the ground. She trembled with pain, unable to even beg for mercy. The surrounding soldiers laughed, but Shen Xing's hand clenched the hilt of her sword, her heart pounding as if it would explode. That night, back in her room, she found a spare roll of hemp rope. In front of the mirror, she mimicked the woman, binding her own hands behind her back, tying them tightly until her fingertips went numb. Then, she knelt on the ground, imitating the woman's fall, her knees hitting the cold stone floor. At that moment, her body shuddered violently, and an unprecedented pleasure washed over her. For the next ten years, she became White Ridge's strongest warrior. She personally captured hundreds, even thousands, of prisoners, interrogated countless criminals. Each time she saw the marks the ropes left on women, each time she witnessed their humiliation and helplessness, her face remained icy, but beneath her clothes, she was already drenched. Only late at night, locking herself in her most heavily guarded bedroom, would she use the ropes she had hidden to bind herself in various ways, until her limbs were numb, until she could barely breathe, until she cried, and then she would untie herself, only to put on her armor the next day and resume her role as the exalted one. She had tried to find like-minded individuals, hinted at her desires to trusted subordinates, but everyone looked at her with only awe and fear. No one dared to touch her, let alone bind her. Her status was too high. So high that no one dared to associate her with the word "captive." So high that she had to let her most genuine desires fester within her, even dreaming of being bound and paraded through the streets with a gag, and waking up feeling ashamed for days. Until half a month ago, when the decisive battle between White Ridge and Black Iron City ended, with heavy casualties on both sides, a temporary truce was called. Shen Xing used a surprise attack to stage a scene of mutual destruction in front of everyone. Even her most trusted second-in-command believed she had perished in the ensuing inferno. No one knew that she had used her unique, albeit limited, authority to alter the fundamental rules of the world. For three days and three nights, she had painstakingly rewritten all the rules related to "POW treatment" to her exact specifications. The underlying laws of the Gray Ruins Realm were established at the dawn of the world, accessible only to a select few at the pinnacle of combat power. Modifying even one rule required immense mental exertion, and no one had ever used such precious authority for something as "trivial" as this. But Shen Xing didn't care. She poured half her life force into it, rewriting each rule meticulously, ensuring that the path she was about to tread would be absolutely safe and perfectly aligned with her desires: First, all prisoners of war must be registered. No one is permitted to privately kill, maim, or sexually assault prisoners. Violators will be directly restrained by the laws, and severe cases will result in loss of mobility. Second, prisoners of war must be provided with two hot meals daily, sufficient drinking water, and fixed times for using the latrine. They shall not be subjected to continuous fasting for more than twelve hours, nor be continuously bound for more than twelve hours without release and rest. Third, prisoners of war may be escorted, paraded, exhibited, and made to participate in labor. During these activities, any restraints or training devices such as ropes, shackles, gags, mouth plugs, or vibrators may be used as needed. Such devices must be clean and must not cause permanent injury. Fourth, prisoners of war may voluntarily apply for higher levels of restraint treatment. As long as the first three conditions are not violated, the administrator must approve the request and cannot refuse. After a thorough search, Zhang Ma tossed over a set of prisoner-of-war uniforms. "Put these on." The coarse cloth shorts and top were washed to a faded white, so thin they were almost see-through. The top barely covered her chest, and the shorts barely reached her thighs, riding up with every step. Shen Xing still couldn't dress herself, so Sister Hong helped her into them. With her arms bound behind her back, the front of the shirt was pulled taut, clinging to her body and clearly outlining her chest. The fabric brushed against her nipples, making her tremble again from the sensitivity. "Alright, loosen the ropes on your wrists, it's time for the induction restraints," Zhang Ma brought over a low stool. "Kneel, with your back to me." Sister Hong untied the tight knot at the nape of her neck and unwound the hemp rope from her forearms. Blood instantly surged back into her arms, making them swell, numb, and itchy. As Shen Xing tried to move her wrists, Zhang Ma pressed down on her shoulders. "Kneel properly and don't move. Induction restraints are the rule. Every new prisoner has to wear them for three days so you can properly understand the rules of the POW camp and don't think about playing any tricks." Shen Xing knelt obediently in front of the low stool, her back to Zhang Ma, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of her throat. She knew what the induction restraints were. She had specifically added them when revising the rules: standard issue for all new prisoners – full body binding, shackles, and a gag, to be worn for three days, only removed for eating and using the restroom. She had waited for this day for ten years. Zhang Ma picked up a new hemp rope, as thick as her wrist, and smoothed it out. The end of the rope came around from behind her neck, loosely encircling her throat with a slipknot that wouldn't choke her. Then, she brought the two strands forward over her shoulders, forming a loop around the fullest part of each breast, tightening them until they were snug. "Stick your chest out," Zhang Ma said, patting her back. Shen Xing instinctively pushed her chest forward. The two loops instantly tightened, digging deep into her soft flesh. She couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, quickly biting her lip as the sound escaped. Zhang Ma didn't stop. She pulled the rope ends back behind her and began to wind them down her ribcage, circling her body four times from just below her breasts to her abdomen. With each pass, she pulled tighter. The rope felt alive, bit by bit digging into her skin, cinching her waist into a distinct curve. She could clearly feel the texture of each hemp strand, feel the rope tighten and loosen with her breath. With every inhale, the loops around her chest shifted slightly upward, brushing against her most sensitive points. The tingling sensation shot down her spine, making her fingertips go numb. When she reached the fourth circle, Zhang Ma brought the rope end to just below her navel and tied a secure knot. Then, she split the rope into two strands, winding them down her sides, around the base of her thighs, crossing at her most sensitive spot, and then back to the main knot at her waist. She pulled tight. The moment the rope bit into her, Shen Xing's mind went blank. She felt as if she'd been struck by lightning, her whole body trembling violently. Her legs went weak instantly, and if Zhang Ma hadn't steadied her from behind, she would have collapsed to the ground. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. She gasped for air, but still couldn't suppress the whimpers escaping her throat. Before, when she bound herself, she never dared to tie it this tight, only ever loosely, stopping at the slightest sensation, afraid of it being too obvious, afraid of losing control. But now it was different. Someone else had tied it. It was "the rule," a legitimate tightness that dug completely into her soft flesh. Just a slight movement of her legs, a slightly heavier breath, and the rope would cruelly graze that spot. Each time was agonizingly precise, unavoidable, leaving her no choice but to endure. "Quite sensitive," Zhang Ma chuckled from behind, patting the knot at her waist. "That's right. After three days, I guarantee you'll have no spirit left." Shen Xing knelt on the ground, trembling uncontrollably, unable to speak. She could only lower her head, looking at the ropes on her body. The thin, translucent prisoner uniform offered no concealment. The thick hemp rope, from her neck to her chest, to her abdomen, to the base of her thighs, left deep red marks, dividing her body into sections, like a meticulously bound gift, just waiting to be unwrapped. She secretly glanced at the mirror on the wall. She barely recognized the person staring back: messy hair, a flushed face, eyes brimming with moisture, lips bitten red and swollen, her body clearly delineated by the ropes. Her breasts were lifted high by the loops, her waist cinched thin, the marks at the base of her thighs faintly visible. She looked completely like a captive, ready to be manipulated. "Get up, put on the shackles," Sister Hong handed her a pair of iron shackles, small, just enough to lock her ankles about a fist's width apart. "Wear them, get used to them. You'll have to wear them for work and walking from now on." The cold iron ring clicked shut around her ankle, locking with a sharp sound. The weight sank down her bone, a stark contrast to the rough warmth of the hemp ropes. Shen Xing tried to stand, taking a step, but the shackles clanged, restricting her stride. She could only shuffle, each small step causing the ropes at her inner thighs to rub. She quickly grabbed the nearby table to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, the gag. Sister Hong produced a medium-sized, soft silicone ball gag with air holes. She walked up to Shen Xing, cupped her chin, and tilted it up. "Open your mouth." Shen Xing instinctively flinched back, a mix of anticipation and fear churning within her. The thing she'd anticipated for ten years was finally here, and she felt a tremor of panic. "Why are you dodging?" Sister Hong lightly slapped her cheek. The touch was gentle, yet carried an undeniable authority. "Put this in, and you won't be able to curse like that stubborn mule, saving us trouble. Be good, open up." Shen Xing looked at the gag in Sister Hong's hand, her heart pounding. Slowly, she opened her mouth. The moment the silicone ball was pushed in, her mouth was filled to bursting. Her tongue was pinned, unable to move. Saliva immediately welled up, and she could only instinctively swallow. Each swallow sent a ripple through the ropes around her chest and the ones rubbing her thighs. The chain reaction made her shiver again, a soft whimper escaping her. Sister Hong tied the strap of the gag tightly behind her head, pressing down her loose hair. She gave it a tug, confirming it wouldn't slip, and nodded with satisfaction. "There, that's better." Shen Xing tried to move her mouth, but only muffled "mmph" sounds emerged. She couldn't form a single coherent word. Saliva continued to pool, seeping over the edges of the gag. A few drops trickled down her chin, staining her chest with dark splotches. She wanted to wipe them away, but her hands were bound. She could only let the saliva flow, feeling a wave of shame that threatened to overwhelm her, yet her body, in its honesty, responded to this shame with surges of pleasure. Mama Zhang slapped Shen Xing's file onto the table and said to Sister Hong, "Seventy-two-hour confinement upon entry. Two periods of outdoor time daily, designated times for using the latrine, no loosening of restraints. This girl is highly sensitive, keep a close eye on her, no accidents." "Understood," Sister Hong replied, tugging on the rope at Shen Xing's waist. "Come on, let's take you where you belong." Pulled by Sister Hong, Shen Xing shuffled out of the registration area, the shackles clanking. Saliva dripped relentlessly from the gag, and every rope on her body worked its magic. Each step was an agony, and yet, each step was also an exquisite pleasure. She was led through the prisoner-of-war camp's courtyard, still lit by lamps. Many prisoners who hadn't slept were leaning against their cell bars, their gazes fixed on her, on the clear rope marks on her skin, on her gagged mouth from which saliva dripped. She kept her head down, unable to meet anyone's eyes, her cheeks burning red. She was locked into the innermost collective cell. Six female POWs, all new arrivals, shared the common sleeping area, including Shen Xing. Sister Hong tied the rope at Shen Xing's waist to an iron ring in the corner, patted her face, and said, "Stay put. We'll have roll call at six tomorrow morning to lay down the rules." Then she locked the door and left. The cell was quiet. Some of the other five POWs were crying, others were staring blankly. Only Shen Xing was tied to the corner, held in a tortoise-shell binding, unable to move much. She slowly slid down to the floor, her back against the cold wall, the ropes still working their continuous magic all over her body. With each breath, the rope around her chest tightened and rubbed; a slight shift of her legs caused the ropes at her thighs to chafe fiercely, a tingling sensation spreading through her bones. The saliva in the gag was endless, and each swallow set the ropes on her entire body in motion, a cycle that never stopped. Pleasure washed over her in waves, never ceasing, sometimes gentle, sometimes intense, slowly eroding her sanity. A female POW, appearing to be in her thirties, shuffled over and whispered, "Little sister, you're new, aren't you? Don't be scared. This is how it is for the first three days. Mama Zhang and the others know what they're doing, they won't really hurt you. Just bear with it, and you'll get used to it." Shen Xing looked up, the gag in her mouth preventing her from saying anything but a muffled "mmph." She nodded, tears still clinging to her eyelashes, looking both pitiful and wronged. "You all did well yesterday," Sister Hong said, catching the remote. Her gaze swept over everyone, finally landing on Xiao Xing. "Today, we're changing things up – reverse suspension. And," she dangled the new remote, "I've got a new stimulator today. One shake, ten seconds of continuous vibration. One push, twenty seconds. If you dare to cry out, I'll crank it to max and vibrate you until you pass out. Understand?" No one dared to speak. Yesterday's crucifixions had left most of them half-dead. Hearing about the even harsher reverse suspension today, two of the younger female prisoners' legs went weak. With a thud, they collapsed to their knees, crying and begging, "Sister Hong... please... change it... we really can't take it anymore..." "Can't take it?" Sister Hong sneered, cracking her whip on the ground in front of them, sparks splashing their faces. "You'll take it whether you can or not! The wartime order is in effect. You're prisoners of war, not pampered young ladies here for a spa day! If you beg again, I'll hang you outside the camp gate for three days and three nights!" Terrified, the two immediately fell silent, not even daring to cry. They scrambled to their feet and stood at attention. "By number," Mama Zhang said, approaching with the black cowhide ropes. She pointed at Xiao Xing first. "You, first. Come here, lean over the iron bar." Xiao Xing walked over. The iron bar was cast iron, cold as ice. The moment it touched her chest, she shivered. Mama Zhang had her cross her arms behind her back, then wrapped the cowhide rope around each of her wrists five times, tying a knot that wouldn't budge. The rope end was threaded through the central iron ring of the bar and pulled upwards. Her arms were immediately hoisted above her head, her shoulders nearly dislocated. A pained groan escaped her, and her body instinctively leaned forward, her entire weight shifting to her waist and legs. "Head up, chest out, back and legs straight," Mama Zhang said, pulling the rope end again, raising her arms another half-inch. Xiao Xing gritted her teeth, pressing her waist down, her legs stretched straight, her toes pointed, forming a thirty-degree angle with the ground. The position was agonizing. Her entire body's weight bore down on her lumbar spine and knees, as if two people were pulling her shoulders and feet in opposite directions. Her spine creaked with each movement, each vertebra screaming in pain. Worse still was the chest rope. Before binding her hands, Mama Zhang had replaced it with a new rhombic knot. Six ropes wrapped from under her armpits to her chest, tied with adjustable knots around each nipple, each with a copper bead. Now, as she leaned forward, her chest pulled down, the knots tightened, the copper beads grinding against the most sensitive parts of her nipples. With every breath, they ground again. She reached out and pressed Xiao Xing's waist, pushing it down another half-inch. "This angle. If you dare to move, you know the consequences." Finally, Sister Hong herself came over to attach the vibrator. She held one larger than yesterday's, with three soft silicone tentacles. She crouched down, lifted the hem of Xiao Xing's prison uniform to her waist, and deliberately ran her fingers over the softest part of Xiao Xing's inner thighs. Xiao Xing stiffened, and then Sister Hong attached the vibrator, the three tentacles perfectly positioned on her three most sensitive points. "This one's good," Sister Hong said, patting Xiao Xing's buttock and standing up. She smiled and pressed the remote in her hand. "Stronger than yesterday's. Ten seconds of continuous vibration, and it'll make you so high you won't recognize your own mother." "Bzzzzzz—" The first setting was applied as soon as it touched her. A fine tremor immediately shot out from the three points, like three red-hot needles piercing her lower abdomen and spine, making her nipples throb and swell with each pulse. Xiao Xing bit her tongue, suppressing the gasp that rose to her throat. She tensed her waist and legs even tighter. This tension immediately tightened the breathing restraints by half a circle, and the copper beads ground against her nipples again. Pain mingled with itchiness, and the numbness deepened. Mama Zhang stepped back half a pace, looking Xiao Xing up and down with satisfaction. "Good, the angle is just right. Next." The second to be bound was A'nuo. The young girl was still trembling when she was brought over. Seeing Xiao Xing suspended upside down from the iron bar, her face turned as white as paper, and tears welled up in her eyes. Just as she was about to cry, Sister Hong's whip tip pointed at her. "If you shed another tear, I'll hang you on the same rope as her. The moment she goes up an inch, you go up an inch." The order to release the camp restraints came just after the hour of the rabbit. Aunt Zhang, accompanied by four guards, carrying a stack of rosters and a new pair of shears, went from cell to cell, releasing all prisoners of war from the mandatory basic restraints imposed for the first seventy-two hours of their internment, as per the new regulations. The rear hand restraints, chest ropes, waist ropes, and heavy leg irons weighing over five catties were all uniformly removed. Only the long-term restraints that prisoners applied for themselves remained, with all other daily restraints being voluntary and not enforced. The cells instantly erupted as if a bomb had gone off. "Finally, they're off! The chest rope had me up all night yesterday!" "Oh my god, my arms were almost useless. I can finally pick up my own steamed buns to eat!" "Aunt Zhang, Aunt Zhang! I want to apply for only the lightest leg irons from now on! Nothing else!" Everyone was jubilant, as if celebrating the New Year. They stretched out their arms, waiting for the shears to fall. The moment the ropes hit the ground, they immediately began to move their numb and stiff joints, letting out long sighs of relief, their smiles impossible to hide. Only Xiao Xing, leaning against the wall, watched Aunt Zhang walk closer, her heart filled with no joy at all. Instead, she felt as if something was clutching at her, a sense of panic and emptiness. "Next, Xiao Xing." Aunt Zhang stopped in front of her, flipping through the roster. "Oh, you voluntarily applied for a long-term gag and daily thigh ropes, correct? Alright, those two will remain. All other basic restraints are now released." As she spoke, she picked up the shears and first cut the rear hand restraints on Xiao Xing's back. With a "snip," the hemp rope snapped, and her arms, bound for seventy-two hours, finally regained their freedom. The numbness instantly shot from her shoulders to her fingertips. Xiao Xing gently moved her wrists, her knuckles white from prolonged lack of blood. But before she could even adjust to this feeling of freedom, the emptiness in her heart surged forward. The weight of the rope on her shoulders was gone, making her feel as if she might float away. She felt a distinct absence behind her, a chilling emptiness that made her feel unsettled. "Next is the chest rope." Aunt Zhang squatted down, her shears moving down her chest. "This chest rope was tied quite tightly. It's already left marks. You should apply some medicine later, or it will scar." Another few "snips," and the hemp rope binding her chest unraveled in coils on the floor. Her chest instantly felt hollow. Without the restraint of the rope, her breathing became smooth. She subconsciously raised her arms, wanting to hug her chest, but halfway up, she lowered them again, her fingertips hovering awkwardly in mid-air, unsure where to place them. Finally, the leg irons. Aunt Zhang removed the five-cattie heavy leg irons from her ankles and replaced them with the lightest one-cattie iron ring. With a "clank," it was fastened to her ankle, barely having any weight. She couldn't even hear it when she took a step. "Alright." Aunt Zhang put away the shears and made a mark on the roster. "All basic restraints are released, except for the gag and thigh ropes. You are now free. If you want to apply for any other daily restraints, come find me at the detention office anytime. If you don't want to apply for anything, you can stay as you are. No one will force you." She patted Xiao Xing's shoulder and turned to release the next person, leaving Xiao Xing alone, leaning against the wall, her body stiff, as if her soul had been ripped away. Without the hemp ropes digging into her flesh, without the rear hand restraints pulling at her arms, without the heavy leg irons that made it impossible to walk, she could freely raise her hands, walk freely, and perform any action she desired. She no longer had to worry about pulling on the knots with every movement, no longer had to endure the constant biting pain and numbness. This was what everyone in the cells dreamed of, the liberation they had waited seventy-two hours for. But Xiao Xing was not happy at all. She knew that prisoners of war would eventually have all their ropes removed, but when she had set the rules, she hadn't dared to mandate long-term binding for all prisoners. A'nuo sat beside her. She had already had all her restraints removed, leaving only the lightest leg irons. She was happily flexing her arms, touching her wrists, then swinging her legs, like a little bird just released from its cage. Seeing Xiao Xing frowning and fidgeting restlessly, A'nuo quickly leaned over, asking with concern, "Xiao Xing, what's wrong? Does it hurt where the ropes were after they were removed? Shall I blow on it for you?" As she spoke, she reached out to touch the red marks on Xiao Xing's chest. Xiao Xing flinched back as if burned, narrowly avoiding her hand. A'nuo's hand froze in mid-air. She paused for a moment, then pouted aggrievedly, "What's wrong... I just wanted to rub it for you..."