The campus belle appeared on my secret base's bed.

I was waiting. Waiting for the classroom to empty, for the footsteps in the hallway to completely disappear, for the lights in the entire school building to dim, floor by floor. Only then would I fold the draft paper covered in knots into the smallest possible square and slip it into the inner pocket of my school uniform, like I was carrying something shameful. Yes, something shameful indeed. My name is Lin Mo, sophomore class three, student number twenty-four. My grades are average, my athletic ability is average, my looks are average. If the school were a river, I’d be the most unremarkable grain of sand at the bottom. Everyone knows I’m here, but no one stares. But I have a secret. I have a secret base in a half-finished building. Turn right after leaving the school gate, pass through two alleys, go around the construction site that’s always under repair, and then squeeze through a rusty barbed-wire fence. That’s where it is. This unfinished building has been abandoned for three years. The developer fled, the owners failed to win their rights, and the skeleton of reinforced concrete is exposed in the night. No one comes, no one cares, but it has electricity. I was stunned when I first discovered it. The electric meter was spinning, the lights worked, the outlets were functional. Probably some electrician stole half the power and forgot to disconnect the wires. In any case, this place became my paradise. I tidied up a corner on the third floor into a "room." It was actually just a semi-enclosed space walled off with discarded plasterboard. I brought in a second-hand folding bed, a folding table, and a metal cabinet. Inside the cabinet, I locked away all my secrets. A rope bondage tutorial wrapped in a textbook cover. Cotton rope bought online, ten meters per strand, I bought five. A gag, black, with a leather buckle. An eye mask. And some… never mind, I won’t say more. If I do, I’ll be mortified here in this empty, unfinished building. “Tonight, I’ll check out the new rope,” I muttered to myself, walking on the dark path, my phone’s flashlight illuminating the cracked concrete ground under my feet. My mind was still replaying the bondage videos I’d watched earlier that day. The rope master’s movements were clean and precise, tying the model into a beautiful Kote-Kawa Shibari in no time. I paused seventeen times, drawing it on the draft paper seventeen times. “Theoretically, I’ve mastered it completely,” I said to the air. —Theoretically. Pushing open the "doorframe" on the third floor, which had no door panel at all, I froze. There was someone on my bed. A girl was lying on her side on the folding bed. Moonlight poured in through the window opening, which had no glass, and fell directly on her, like a spotlight on a stage. A school uniform. Our school’s. A white short-sleeved shirt, a navy blue pleated skirt. Black thigh-high socks hugged two straight legs, and her shoes were neatly placed by the bed. My first reaction was: “Did I come to the wrong place?” I backed out and looked at the hallway. No, it was the east side of the third floor. I walked back in. She was still lying there. My heart began to beat at an unhealthy pace, the kind of feeling you get when you’re watching a horror movie and suddenly the person on screen turns to look at you. I took out my phone, opened the camera, and zoomed in— Her long black hair was spread across my pillow, a few strands clinging to her cheeks. Her skin was very fair, so fair it was almost transparent in the moonlight. Her eyelashes were long, casting small shadows. Her nose was straight, her lips were thin, and the corners of her mouth were slightly downturned, as if she were having an unpleasant dream. The corners of her eyes were red, and there were still traces of moisture on her eyelashes. "Calm down. You're a professional. Theoretically." First, bring her feet together. She stirred during this process, and I flinched, curling into a ball on the floor. I waited thirty seconds, confirming she was still asleep before continuing. Her legs are beautifully shaped. When brought together, there's no gap. My palms rested on her ankles, feeling the warmth of her skin through the black socks. The cotton rope started at her ankles, winding upwards, circle by circle, to below her knees, then to the middle of her thighs. With each loop, I checked the tension—too loose and she could escape, too tight and it would affect circulation. The tutorial said it should be tight enough to fit one finger. "Figure eight" binding. Thread the rope end between her legs, tighten above her knees, and tie a knot. Her brow furrowed slightly. I froze. Like a character glitching in a video game. "...Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up." My inner monologue was a frantic barrage. She didn't wake up. She just rolled over, turning onto her back. Her skirt slid up another inch with the movement. I stood up, hands behind my back, like a child who'd done something wrong. "Upper body," I told myself. "You've come this far." But the upper body isn't like the legs. The legs could be tied, and then the hands. But if the hands were tied behind her back, her first reaction upon waking would be to scream—wait, right, her mouth. Gag. I bought a gag. Black, silicone, with a strap that buckles at the back of the head. When I picked it up at the post office, the clerk asked what it was. I said, "A dog toy." —It wasn't entirely untrue. "Gag," I returned to the metal cabinet and took it out, my palms sweating. "I thought I'd never use you." How absurd is the current situation? A male high school student, a virgin for eighteen years, in his secret hideout, preparing to stuff a stranger's mouth with a dog toy. "If I get caught, I'll say it's a medical device to prevent tongue biting." My brain was already weaving escape routes. I walked back to the bed. She lay on her back, her lips parted slightly. Her breaths were soft, with a faint nasal quality. I knelt by the bed, holding the gag, and slowly approached her face. Fifteen centimeters left. Ten centimeters. Five centimeters. Her breath brushed against my hand. Warm. With a faint scent of laundry detergent, and— She moved. Her tongue nudged the gag, trying to push it out. "—!" Her eyelids fluttered. My mind went blank, a whiteout. There was no turning back. I forcefully pushed the gag into her mouth, the buckle clicking securely behind her head. "Click." She opened her eyes. In that instant, I didn't think. My body moved. I climbed onto the bed, straddling her—my thighs clamping her waist—grabbed her wrists and twisted them behind her back— Her wrists were so slender, one hand could encircle both. "Japanese bondage." The tutorial images automatically appeared in my mind. Cross the wrists, wrap the cotton rope three times, thread it through the middle to tighten, then wrap again... She struggled. Her body writhed, the muffled thud of rope biting into flesh, and the muffled sounds from behind the gag. "Mmmph—!" My heart was pounding at an unhealthy rate, but my hands didn't stop. Every step from the tutorial was etched into my fingers like muscle memory. Her wrists were tied. I added another reinforcement, extending from her wrists to her elbows, immobilizing her forearms as well. Now her hands were bound behind her back, unable to move. "What's with that look?" I got up, rubbing the back of my head. She didn't say anything. The gag still filled her mouth, only allowing faint nasal sounds. "I know, I know," I waved my hand. "You must think I'm a freak right now. But—" I gestured around us. "This is... my place." I pointed to the ceiling, then the floor, and finally to myself. "My secret base. You broke in first. You know? I was terrified when I came in, thought it was some kind of haunting. Then I saw you sleeping in my bed, and I thought, what if you're a bad person? What if you have a knife? What if—" She lifted her wrists, bound behind her back. The movement was slight, but the faint sound of the ropes digging into her flesh was starkly clear in the empty, unfinished building. "...What if you were here to rob me?" I finished, my voice trailing off to a whisper I could barely hear myself. Her eyebrows arched. I knew that arch. It was the same expression my math teacher got when he saw my test papers. It translated roughly to: "Are you serious?" "So," I cleared my throat, trying to sound more assertive, "tying you up was self-defense. Justifiable. Yes, self-defense. It's legally mandated. If someone illegally trespasses into your residence, the homeowner has the right to—" She glanced down at the cotton rope around her ankles. Then at her wrists. Then she looked up at me. The meaning in her eyes was unmistakable: You call this self-defense? "..." The air was silent for three seconds. I crouched down, burying my face in my knees. "Okay," my voice squeezed out from between my knees. "I admit it. I admit it, alright? It has nothing to do with self-defense. I just... I saw you lying there, and my mind just went blank, and I..." "Fine," I deflated. "I'll untie you. Happy?" Her gaze shifted slightly. "But you have to promise not to scream," I added, then felt how unconvincing it sounded. "Although, no one would hear you here anyway... No, that's not what I meant, I mean there's no one living around here, so screaming would be useless, no, what I mean is, I can't do anything if you scream, but it really won't help, so—ahhh what am I saying." I decided to shut up. Even though there wasn't a living soul within a five-hundred-meter radius. With a "click," the gag came loose. I removed it from her mouth, the strap hanging around her neck. She took a few deep breaths, licking her lips. A trace of saliva, left from being stretched open by the gag, glistened in the moonlight. Then she turned her head to look at me. "So," her voice was lower than I expected, with a hint of huskiness. "What did you have in mind when you tied me up?" My hand went around her shoulder, my fingertips brushing against the gag strap on her neck. "Click." The buckle loosened. Su Nian turned her head to look at me. In the moonlight, her eyes were wide open, holding a very clear emotion. A sense of foreboding. "You... what are you doing with that thing?" I took the gag off her neck and held it in my hand. The black silicone ball gleamed in the moonlight, still bearing a trace of her saliva, glistening. "Wait a minute," Su Nian's voice changed. "The three-chapter rule—you said—you promised—you can't—" I gripped her chin. My thumb and index finger clamped onto her jawline, and with little effort, I pried her mouth open. She was a girl, after all, her chin narrow enough for my hand to encompass. She struggled, trying to push it out with her tongue, but the gag was spherical. Once stuffed in, with her teeth unable to close, she couldn't spit it out. "Mmph—!" The strap was quickly fastened. "Lin Mo—!" She called out my name. At the very last moment of the gag being inserted, she screamed my name. Her voice was sharp, laced with panic. Lin Mo. My name. How did she know my name? But my mind was already starting to betray me. Dopamine flooded my brain, washing away all dams of reason. My mind was filled with only one thought— She's so soft. So fragrant. So cute. I want to bully her. I held Su Nian in my arms. The gag muffled her mouth, allowing only indistinct sounds. Her body writhed, but not with great force. The back of her head rested against my shoulder, and I could feel her rapid breaths, her chest heaving violently. My hand slid upwards from her waist. Through her school uniform shirt, my fingers touched the curve just below her ribcage. So slender. So slender that my two hands could encircle her waist. "Do you know," I spoke, my voice no longer sounding like my own. Deep, tight, with a hint of—even I could hear it—excitement. "Today is Friday." She stopped struggling. "Tomorrow is Saturday, the day after is Sunday." She looked at me. Her mouth was stretched open by the gag, unable to speak, only emitting a faint nasal sound. "You don't have class. I don't have class either." I smiled. I could feel the corners of my mouth turning up, but my facial muscles felt stiff. This smile probably looked terrible. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. "These two days," I said, "I have plenty of time to properly discipline you." Her eyes widened abruptly. Discipline. I didn't even know where these words came from. The moment I uttered them, my mind flashed like a slideshow. Rope bondage. Suspension. Back-tie. Kote. Various positions, various ties, various— Su Nian's breathing grew more rapid, shallower. Each breath carried a slight nasal tone, muffled behind the gag, mingling with her quickened breaths. I lowered my head to look at her profile. Her ears were flushed crimson, the lobes like tiny cherries. Her neck was red too, the blush extending from behind her ears to her collarbone. Her cheeks, of course, were aflame. Her lips were parted by the gag, saliva trickling from the corners, glistening in the moonlight. Her eyes were half-closed. Her lashes trembled. A sliver of pupil showed beneath her eyelids, holding a watery sheen, like a cup filled to the brim, one more drop and it would spill over entirely. — She looks so pathetic right now. — Poor Su Nian. — Poor Su Nian, whose breasts I'm cupping. — She looks so delicious. I lowered my head, gently nipping the back of her neck. Right at the base of her cervical spine. I bit down on a small patch of skin, and licked it with my tongue. Su Nian's entire body jolted as if struck by lightning. From the spot I bit, a violent tremor shot down her spine, through her shoulders, her back, her lumbar region, all the way to her legs. Her body tensed in my arms, like a bow drawn to its limit. "Mmmph—!" That whimper was different. Unlike the anger before, unlike the protests. It was softer, more pliant, with a slight upward lilt at the end. I moved my lips from her nape, leaving a little saliva on the tooth mark. "Mmm..." My fingers began to move. Not too hard, not too soft. Pushing up from below, then releasing from above, letting the softness spring back. Each time my fingers sank in, I could feel the small, hardening bud beneath the fabric. — No. — Should I be thinking this? — But it's so soft. — Really so soft. "Mmph... Mmm..." Her breathing grew more rapid. Nasal sounds escaped from the sides of the gag. Her body writhed in my arms, her bound legs kicked against the sheets, and she shifted upwards a few centimeters. But she didn't pull away. She didn't curl up. Instead, she pressed her chest more forcefully into my palm. "Body check," I repeated in a low voice, my tone hoarse. "I need to check if you've hidden any keys, razor blades, wire, hairpins, or anything that can untie these ropes. If you were to escape like this, what would I do?" Su Nian tried to open her eyes and glare at me, but her gaze scattered as soon as it focused. Her eyes were like they'd been soaked in water, hot and moist, even her ferocity softening into a puddle. My finger hooked under the hem of her tank top, pushing it up slightly, directly touching her skin. Her skin was incredibly smooth, almost too smooth to grip, like jade just pulled from warm water. I traced the lower edge of her breast with my fingertip, and her whole body jolted as if electrocuted. Her back arched, and her legs instinctively clamped together. But her legs were bound, unable to meet, only able to straighten in a futile attempt. Her toes curled inside her white socks. "Don't, don't..." she tried to speak, her words muffled by the gag, only broken gasps escaping, like a small animal whimpering. Looking at her face, something in me was lightly tickled. She was clearly terrified, yet refused to yield. Her eyes reddened again and again, but she wouldn't cry. This sight was more captivating than any plea for mercy. "Still claiming you have no escape tools," I said, deliberately putting on a stern face, my fingers slowly closing. "Your body is so soft here, you must be hiding something. I need to confirm." She looked at me. There was a lot in her eyes. Nervousness, hesitation, fear. Not fear of the gag, but fear of something else. Fear that I knew something. Fear that I would say something. Her lips moved. Very quietly. I thought she was going to speak. But she said: "No comment." I froze. "Su Nian. You—" "No comment," she repeated. Her voice steadied, her eyes met mine. "Go ahead and gag me." "…………" I looked at her. She truly wasn't afraid. Her lips were still trembling, her body was trembling, but her eyes were saying, "Go ahead and gag me." It was like a gamble, a bet that I wouldn't actually shove it back in. I did. The buckle clicked shut. She let out a soft "mmph" as the gag pressed against her lips. Her mouth was forced open, her lips flattened against the silicone ball, the red flesh of her lips turning slightly pale. Her eyes remained fixed on mine, not closed. —Did she lose the bet? —No. —I lost. —Because she knew I would gag her. She calculated it. She wanted me to gag her. That way, she wouldn't have to answer. —I was outmaneuvered by someone with a gag in her mouth. After the gag was reinserted, Su Nian's gaze changed. She stopped crying. Her eyes were still red, tear tracks glistening on her face, but she forced her eyes wide, glaring at me, the corners of her eyes turned up, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on but refused to yowl. The white gag was nestled between her lips, clear saliva seeping from the edges, tracing a thin line down her chin. Su Nian's legs, neatly bound with cotton rope from her ankles to above her knees, showed distinct ridges where the rope dug into her flesh. Black stockings hugged her taut calves, which were now trembling with an almost imperceptible frequency. That tremor couldn't be hidden, traveling upwards from her calves, causing the pleats of her skirt to sway gently. I shouldn't have looked a second time. After the second glance, my gaze felt welded in place, utterly unable to move away. "Mmmph mmmph." She seemed to be saying something. I guessed she was cursing me. Through the gag, only muffled puffs of air could be heard, carrying a faint hint of moisture that sent a shiver down my spine. She tried to put on a fierce expression, but she didn't know that when someone's face is flushed to the roots of their ears, with tears in their eyes, a gag in their mouth, and their hands bound behind their back, yet they still try to lift their chin defiantly, the scene can only be described by one word aesthetically. Ripe for the taking. No, ready to be plucked. Su Nian's hips actually shifted slightly, almost unconsciously, towards my palm. It was truly just once, a displacement of about two centimeters, something she might not have even realized herself. But that movement, combined with her tightly shut eyes, her lips clamped around the gag, and the tips of her ears faintly flushed, painted a chilling reality: This girl's body was waiting. Anticipating. Presuming what I would do next. I would caress her breasts, harder