Abused little femboys

"Alright, my good little sissy boy, you're completely immobilized now." The sister's voice, laced with a triumphant chuckle, cut through the quiet room with startling clarity. She stood by the bed, gazing down at her masterpiece – her brother, securely bound to the mattress. Ropes coiled from his chest, tightening with each turn, extending all the way to his waist. The ropes were coarse, sturdy cotton, their dark brown color glinting dully under the light. Each loop dug deeply into his pale skin, leaving faint red marks. His arms were twisted behind his back, wrists bound tightly together. The rope extended from his wrists, lashing his ankles as well, forming the classic 'four-limbs-tied-together' position. His limbs were secured behind him, his entire body forced into an arch, his back bowed high. Only his chest, abdomen, and knees bore his weight, making him look like a captured shrimp, fragile and helpless. He struggled, but it only served to press the ropes deeper into his flesh. His face was swathed in layers of cloth, covering him from the bridge of his nose to his chin, leaving only his wide, terrified, and panicked eyes exposed. The gag was dark gray, the fabric dense, wrapped at least three or four times, secured with a tight knot at the back of his head. His breathing grew heavy and labored. Each inhale required effort, the cloth pressed close to his nose and mouth. The humid air circulated within the fabric, carrying the scent of his own exhalations – a faint hint of sweat, mixed with the smell of saliva secreted from nervousness, creating a slightly salty, moist aroma that lingered in his nostrils. "Don't waste your energy. I tied these ropes professionally," the sister leaned in, her finger tracing the taut ropes on his back. "See, here, here, and here... every knot is a slipknot. The more you struggle, the tighter they'll get He wanted to retort, to say he washed himself every day, but the faint, musky scent was undeniably there, and with his body heat and the friction, it seemed to grow more pronounced. He felt utterly ashamed, tears welling up in his eyes. His sister seemed to notice his distress, her foot movements ceasing. "Crying?" she leaned closer to his face, her voice soft through the mask, "Already overwhelmed? I haven't even started with the toys yet." She withdrew her foot and picked up the vibrator again. "But seeing how wet you are down there, you must be ready, right?" The vibrator was switched on, immediately emitting a low hum as its tip began to vibrate at a high frequency, creating a subtle airflow. His sister held it up before his eyes, making sure he saw the vibrating round head. "This frequency is quite high, you know," she said, slowly moving the vibrator towards his crotch, but not touching him yet. "Wearing pantyhose directly means the vibrations will pass through without any buffer. The fabric is so thin, and your skin is so sensitive... it might be several times more stimulating than usual." His eyes were fixed on the vibrating head, his body tensing with fear. His The restraints on my lower body were custom-made, black nylon straps about two fingers wide, lined with soft velvet to prevent chafing, and equipped with multiple metal D-rings and strong Velcro on the outside. They could firmly secure my legs in a humiliating M-shape, spread to their limit, or even achieve more complex bindings like the "four-hoof" position. However, considering I was alone today and would need to release myself later, I opted for the simpler yet equally effective M-style leg spread. I walked to the bedside and sat down, picking up one of the restraints. The cool nylon material against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh sent a slight shiver through me. I wrapped the strap around the base of my left thigh, near the junction of the leg and buttock, the softest point and the most restrictive. As I tightened the strap, I could clearly feel it digging into my flesh, layering over the nylon mesh of the red bondage suit I'd worn earlier, creating a dual sense of pressure. The Velcro at the end of the strap made a crisp "ripping" sound as it adhered firmly. Next was my right leg, the same position, the same tightness. My thighs were forcibly spread to an angle of nearly 120 degrees, stretching the tops of my stockings tighter and making the indentations more pronounced. A sense of shame, of being wide open and utterly exposed, coupled with the powerlessness of restricted movement, quickly spread through me. After securing my thighs, there were the areas above my knees and my ankles. I leaned forward, struggling to wrap restraints above my knees as well, ensuring my calves couldn't be brought together. Finally, my ankles. I used leather cuffs with locks to secure my ankles together, leaving a short chain of about twenty centimeters between them. This restricted large movements without rendering me completely immobile. With all that done, I tried to move my legs. A heavy sense of restraint emanated from several key points. My thighs couldn't be brought together, my knees could barely bend, and I could only maintain this extremely indecent and vulnerable pose with my legs spread apart. Alright, the lower body restraint was complete. Now for the main event. I looked towards the dildo machine standing silently in the corner of the room. It had a sturdy metal base, a long, thick metal arm with a variable-speed motor extending from it, and a menacing dildo attached to the tip. This wasn't an ordinary dildo; it was a silicone replica designed to resemble a mace. It was deep purple-black all over, covered in a dense array of tiny bumps, with sharply defined ridges on the glans at the tip, and a terrifyingly thick and long shaft. Beside it sat a smaller machine, also connected to a dildo. This was a timed ejaculation device designed to simulate oral sex. Its dildo was slightly thinner, but had a small hole at the tip to simulate ejaculation. My heart began to race uncontrollably, a mixture of fear and intense anticipation. I picked up a large bottle of water-based lubricant, unscrewed the cap, squeezed a generous palmful of the cool, transparent gel-like liquid, and smeared it haphazardly onto the mace-shaped dildo. The lubricant quickly coated the bumps, reflecting a lewd sheen under the light. More lubricant was then smeared directly behind me. My fingers probed between my buttocks, finding the entrance that was still somewhat soft and moist from my previous masturbation and enema. I roughly smeared a large amount of lubricant inside, even using my fingers to pry open my sphincter and push some lubricant directly into my rectum. The cool, slippery sensation made me gasp, and my anus instinctively contracted a few times. Preparation complete. Holding the remote control and a small timer lock, I shuffled my restrained legs, moving in an extremely clumsy and awkward gait, like a crab, towards the dildo machine. The cold metallic scent washed over me. I turned around, my back to the proudly erect mace-shaped dildo, spread my legs, held fast by the restraints, and slowly lowered myself down. The alignment required a bit of patience and adjustment. I could feel the cool, lubricant-coated silicone glans pressing against the contracting entrance between my buttocks. The rough bumps rubbed against the surrounding skin, sending waves of subtle, heart-pounding tingles. I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and with a surge of my hips, plunged downwards! "Ah...!" An uncontrollable gasp, laced with pain and pleasure, escaped my lips. The thick, bumpy foreign object, with irresistible force, pried open my tight sphincter and rammed deep into my rectum! She stood silently behind me, holding a perfectly shaped, isosceles triangle of dark brown leather. The leather's surface gleamed coldly in the dim light, exuding a heavy, tanned scent mixed with the dustiness of old things. "Hands behind your back. Like a good dog, no dawdling," her command was crisp and cruel. I obeyed, even with a hint of eagerness, straightening my arms and bringing them together behind me, my shoulder blades arching slightly with the posture. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm fueled by the impending restraint and my instinctual submission to her orders. Then, with an irresistible force, my wrists were shoved into the opening of the cold leather bag. The interior of the leather was rough, scraping against my skin. It was a single arm gauntlet. This was a restraint device that forcibly bound an entire arm, from the wrist to the elbow, or even higher, within a specially designed leather sheath, then secured with a complex system of straps. Once donned, not only were my hands, but my entire upper body, including my shoulders and chest, were rigidly imprisoned, as if cast in concrete. Any struggle would be a futile expenditure of energy, yielding only deeper despair and... a secret satisfaction. Yet, despite knowing its terrifying nature, I felt no urge to resist. A craving for complete freedom's deprivation, surging from the depths of my being, overwhelmed the faint tremor of fear. I meekly allowed the cold leather to envelop my arms, surrendering myself to become her plaything. She began her work. First, she tightened the wide strap at the base of the isosceles leather bag. The strap, cool with its metal buckle, started under my right armpit, slanting cruelly across the upper part of my chest, pressing against my sternum, creating a suffocating squeeze, then pulled to my left shoulder, before looping forcefully across my back to be secured to the metal buckle on the side of the leather bag. The buckle clicked shut with a sharp snap, signaling the loss of the first stage of freedom. 'The strap across my chest... so tight, breathing is a little difficult... but this is Miss Katamachi's will... I must endure...' "Hmph, look at you, like a scrawny girl whose chest hasn't even developed, gasping at a little tightness? Useless." She continued her work, showering me with the most cutting insults. My face instantly burned, shame mingling with a strange excitement. Next came the second equally thick strap. It started under my left armpit, brutally crossing my chest to form a cruel X with the first strap, then pulled to my right shoulder, finally meeting the first strap on my back and being cinched tight. The buckle clicked again, a sound that struck my heart. In that instant, my arms felt welded inside the leather bag; not only could I not pull them out, but even the slightest movement became incredibly difficult. The leather bag clung to my arms like a rigid shell. 'Completely immobile... my arms feel like extraneous parts of my body... so tight... but... so reassuring... to be fixed like this...' But I knew this was only the beginning. The true terror of the single arm gauntlet, the ultimate restraint that made me tremble and yearn, had only just commenced. Creak... creak... The grating sound of leather friction was jarringly loud in the silent changing room. Miss Katamachi began to tighten the thin, long cords attached to the single arm gauntlet, designed for extreme restraint. These cords coiled around the exterior of the bag like venomous snakes. As she slowly and powerfully tightened them, loop by loop, the feeling of restriction spread like a cold tide, surging upwards from my bound wrists. The leather at my wrists dug deeply into my flesh, my bones seeming to be compressed together. Then came my forearms, my muscles forcibly squeezed inwards, my blood circulation appearing to become sluggish. Further up, the restraint pressed against my elbows. With each "creak," a fraction more of my freedom was stripped away, and my body was controlled a little more. "Now, you're a real dog," the landlady said, taking something from a drawer. It was a glowing silicone butt plug, with a small light bulb at the tail that emitted a pink glow when powered on. The surface of the plug was covered in raised bumps, its head was teardrop-shaped, and the base was round with a remote control switch. Seeing the object, Lin Xiaorou's face instantly turned pale. He instinctively took a step back, but the straitjacket restricted him, and he nearly fell. The landlady steadied him, whispering, "Don't be afraid, this is to make you closer to a dog's state. Dogs have no shame; they accept everything." The landlady had him lie down on a mat and then pulled down his underwear. Lin Xiaorou felt a chill in his lower body, shame making his entire body burn. The landlady dipped her finger in some lubricant and smeared it around his anus. The cold liquid touching his skin made his body tremble. The landlady's finger slowly entered, carefully expanding. Lin Xiaorou gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to make a sound. He felt the distending pain of a foreign object entering, along with the slippery sensation from the lubricant. The landlady's fingers rotated and pressed inside until he gradually adapted. "Relax," the landlady's voice was gentle yet firm. Lin Xiaorou took a deep breath and tried to relax his body. The landlady removed her fingers, applied more lubricant, and then aimed at his opening, slowly pushing it in. The silicone felt soft and elastic. As it was inserted, the raised bumps rubbed against his inner walls, sending waves of tingling pleasure. When the base was fully against him, he felt a sense of fullness. The landlady pressed the remote control, and the light bulb inside the plug lit up, its pink glow faintly visible through his skin. "How do you feel?" the landlady asked. Lin Xiaorou, lying on the mat, his voice trembling, replied, "It's… it's tight… and hot." He felt the plug vibrate slightly inside him, causing his sphincter to contract involuntarily. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his breathing grew rapid. The landlady nodded with satisfaction, then took out a leather tail and attached it to the base of the plug. The tail was long and fluffy, like a dog's tail, and seemed to have wire inside, allowing it to be bent freely. The landlady secured the tail and then patted his buttocks, "Stand up and walk a few steps." Lin Xiaorou struggled to stand. Due to the straitjacket and the plug, his movements were clumsy. He tried to take a step, only to find the tail swaying with his movement, the plug shifting inside him, bringing even stronger stimulation. He felt his prostate being pressed, an indescribable pleasure spreading from his lower body. His penis involuntarily became erect, forming a bulge under the straitjacket. Seeing this, the landlady smiled, "It seems you're enjoying it. Good, this shows you have the potential to be a dog." =Glowing Plug and Sensory Impact= The landlady had Lin Xiaorou kneel on a soft cushion in the center of the room, then turned on a small spotlight, shining it directly on him. In the light, the pink glow from the plug inside him became more apparent, a faint luminous mass visible through the skin on one side. The landlady walked behind him and gently played with the tail, each tug causing the plug to rotate inside him, stimulating the sensitive inner walls. "This tail records your body temperature and heartbeat, and the light intensity will change accordingly," the landlady explained. "When you're nervous or excited, its light will brighten. Now, let's test it." The landlady took a long, thin riding crop from the wall. The whip was braided from cowhide, with a small leather tassel at the end. She lightly brushed the whip across Lin Xiaorou's back, from his neck down to his tailbone. The whip touched his skin, bringing a cool sensation, followed by a slight sting. Lin Xiaorou's body stiffened, and the light inside the plug suddenly brightened a little. She freed one hand and picked up the delicate locking mechanism on the edge of the pot lid. It was a small but sturdy metal clasp, connecting the lid to the ring at the bottom. "You little slut, remember this!" she continued to flay my nerves with the sharpest, most venomous words as she worked: "You don He wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but the tape sealed his mouth shut. All he could manage were muffled whimpers, trapped within the adhesive like a fly caught in a sealed jar. His tears flowed more torrents, blurring his vision. The world seen through the tape became a distorted, watery spectacle, everything swaying as if underwater. The men in black seemed pleased with his reaction. They exchanged glances, nodded, and then retrieved the nose hook from a box. The nose hook was made of metal, silver, glinting coldly under the light. Its tip featured a small hook, and its base was attached to a thin chain. The instant Lin Qingxi saw the nose hook, his pupils contracted violently. An instinctive fear made him want to recoil, but his body was bound so tightly by ropes that he couldn't move an inch. He could only watch helplessly as the nose hook approached, drawing nearer and nearer, until the cold metal touched the tip of his nose. "No..." He shook his head desperately, but the tape made his movements sluggish, his head thrashing in vain. Another man in black pressed down on his head, his fingers digging into Lin Qingxi's hair, gripping his scalp tightly, forcing him to remain still. Then, the hook slowly moved closer, aiming for his nostril. Lin Qingxi's breathing grew rapid and ragged. He gasped for air, as if trying to fill his lungs with every last molecule, because he knew what was coming. The hook pierced through his nostril. The cold touch of the metal instantly stabbed into his nasal cavity, bringing a sharp pain that made his entire nose spasm. He let out a violent sneeze, but it was muffled by the tape, resulting in a short, dull sound. Snot and tears gushed out together, sticking wetly to the inside of the tape. The nose hook continued its descent, passing through the nasal cavity and emerging from the other nostril. The hook was then pried open, lodging itself into the septum. Lin Qingxi's tears became a torrential flood. He felt his nose being completely stretched open, his breathing becoming agonizingly difficult. Every inhale was accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain. The air passing through his nasal cavity made a hissing sound, like wind whistling through a narrow canyon. He could smell the metallic tang of the nose hook, the sweet, coppery scent of his own blood, mingled with the chemical odor of the tape, creating a nauseating aroma. The chain behind the nose hook was pulled taut, connected to an iron ring fixed to the wall. Lin Qingxi's head was yanked backward, his neck forced to stretch. His Adam's apple protruded, the skin of his neck pulled taut, revealing the throbbing veins beneath. His chin was forced upward, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, the stark white light stinging his eyes, making them water even more. Tears streamed down his cheeks, pooling at the edges of the tape before dripping down, forming beads that fell onto his sailor uniform collar, leaving small, dark wet patches. His current posture was pathetic. His body was bound by ropes, suspended from the iron ring, his toes barely touching the ground. His entire weight bore down on the ropes, chafing his skin painfully. The hem of his sailor uniform skirt had ridden up due to his position, revealing the rope marks at the base of his thighs, red and raw, as if from a whipping. His face was sealed by tape, only his nostrils exposed. The nose hook protruded from them, the chain pulled straight, preventing him from even lowering his head. The room was silent, save for his heavy breathing and the faint rustle of ropes against skin. Lin Qingxi's thoughts began to drift. He remembered the first time he wore women's clothing, the racing heartbeat of nervousness, the pleasure of admiring himself in the mirror, and the fantasy of being restrained. He had once thought he merely admired that beauty, that feeling of being watched. But now, he finally understood. What he truly craved were those moments of freedom stripped away, that complete surrender to another person, that blend of trust and terror, that extreme experience of finding pleasure in pain. His body trembled slightly, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin. Large drops rolled down his forehead, sliding into the tape, feeling sticky and uncomfortably itchy. His lips were numb from the tape, and he couldn't swallow his saliva. It pooled in his mouth, then overflowed at the corners of his lips, trickling down the tape's edge. A single drop gathered on his chin before falling onto the sailor uniform's neckline, spreading into a small, dark wet stain. The clink of metal made my body tense. "Relax," he said, his palm pressing into the nape of my neck, warm and firm. I felt something cold clamp onto the septum of my nose. A septum ring. It gripped my nasal bridge tightly, connected to a thin chain. The other end of the chain was fastened in his hand. With a gentle tug, my head was forced back, my neck arching. "This way, you can always look at me," he said, moving in front of me, looking down from above. The pressure of the septum ring made my breathing uneven, each inhale requiring more effort. My mouth fell open, my breathing growing rapid, my chest rising and falling noticeably. I could see a flicker of satisfaction cross his face. "Next," he paused, producing something from behind him. "This." A butt plug. I recognized the shape, and my heart lurched. It was a metal hook, a long leash attached to its end. He crouched down, parting my legs with a movement that was gentle yet irresistible. "Don't tense up," he murmured, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of my thighs, the texture of the fishnets sliding against my skin. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold metal touch my skin, followed by a dull ache and a sense of fullness. I bit down on my lower lip, swallowing back a moan. The butt plug was fully embedded, a foreign object now inside me, heavy and real. He attached the leash to the butt plug, holding the other end in his hand. "Now," he stood up, giving the leash a tug. "Crawl, like a dog." The words sent a jolt through my body. I knelt on the floor, hands braced, the sensation of my knees and palms on the ground sharp and distinct. The wooden floor was cool and hard. Sweat beaded in my palms, making them slick. He led the leash, starting to walk forward. I was forced to follow his movements, crawling on all fours. The hem of my maid outfit bunched around my waist. My fishnet-clad knees scraped against the floor, a faint rustling sound. The butt plug shifted inside me with my movements, each ripple sending a wave of tingling sensation from my spine throughout my body. I kept my head down, able to see my hair falling to the sides of my face, the tips of the wig brushing the floor. My breathing was amplified in the quiet space, heavy and ragged. "Look up," he commanded. I lifted my face, the septum ring pulling at my nose, the chain taut. I saw him standing before me, leash in hand, his eyes holding a calm, all-encompassing control. "You look beautiful like this," he said, his tone devoid of mockery, a mere statement of fact. The words hit my chest like a hammer blow. Shame mingled with a secret satisfaction, churning within me. I felt my face grow hotter, my neck flushing. He continued to walk, and I continued to crawl behind him. As I passed a mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself. My maid-outfit-clad body crawling on the floor, my fishnet-clad legs, the butt plug behind me connected to the leash held in his hand. The septum ring pulled my head back, like a leashed pet. The sight stimulated my nerves, pushing me to the brink. But my body responded with brutal honesty. The chastity lock held my desire captive, yet that very restraint intensified a certain craving. I could feel my heart racing, blood surging through my veins, my skin growing more sensitive. "I can't take it anymore... Master... please..." I begged with the last of my strength, my voice already hoarse. Master finally withdrew the hose. I immediately collapsed on the floor, retching violently. But my stomach was full of water, and all that came out was clear liquid mixed with stomach acid, the sourness filling the air. I vomited three or four times. The water in my stomach reduced slightly, but it still felt painfully distended. I lay there, limp, gasping for air. =The Humiliation and Command of the Inserted Tail= Master waited until I had recovered somewhat before reaching into a nearby cabinet and taking something out. Squinting with my nearsighted eyes, I saw it was a fluffy tail, white, like a fox's, but attached to a round butt plug at the base. The butt plug was coated in lubricant, glistening under the light. A small remote control switch was attached to the tail. "Put it in," Master said, holding the tail out to me in a tone as casual as if he were asking me to do a mundane chore. I froze, staring at the tail, then at Master. Tears welled up uncontrollably. Being force-fed was already humiliating enough. Now, I had to insert a tail? This was pushing my limits. Biting my lip, I shook my head desperately, tears streaming down my cheeks and splashing onto the tiles. "Don't make me say it a second time," Master's voice turned cold, his eyes flashing a dangerous signal. I knew resistance was futile. Master never softened because of my tears. Trembling, I took the tail. The butt plug felt smooth and cold. I squeezed lubricant into my palm, smeared it onto the plug, then positioned myself on the floor, arching my back. The icy lubricant touched the skin of my rear, and I shivered. The slick sensation made me incredibly uncomfortable. Using my fingers, I spread my sphincter, aimed the tip of the butt plug, and began to push it in, inch by agonizing inch. The moment the butt plug entered, I gasped in pain. Even with the lubricant, the size of the plug felt like a tearing sensation. My sphincter instinctively contracted, clenching around the plug, making entry even more difficult. Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to relax, and continued to push. The butt plug slowly entered my body. With every inch it advanced, I could feel it stretching my inner walls. The sensation of being filled with a foreign object sent goosebumps all over my skin. When the butt plug was fully inserted, I collapsed. The base of the tail was wedged between my buttocks, the fluffy tail hanging behind me, swaying gently with my breaths. "Stand up," Master commanded. I struggled to my feet. Something was lodged in my anus, and with every step, the muscles there pulled, the tail swinging from side to side. I felt like a real animal. Master walked behind me, tugged on the tail to confirm the butt plug was secure, and nodded with satisfaction. I lowered my head, unable to look at myself in the mirror. The bespectacled boy with a tail inserted and a distended belly was a sight too shameful to behold. "Now, go to the entryway and change your shoes," Master said. I froze. The entryway? That meant going outside! I looked up at Master in terror, my voice trembling, "Master... where... where are we going?" "Downstairs. To get the delivery guy," Master said, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket with my address written on it. "I've already ordered food. The delivery guy will be here soon. You'll be responsible for having him remove your tail." "What?!" I nearly fainted. Have a delivery guy pull a tail out of my ass? That was worse than death! I shook my head repeatedly, tears welling up again. "Master, no... please... they'll see..." "I'll say it again. Go change your shoes." Master's voice was unyielding, his eyes as cold as knives. Despairingly, I lowered my head and dragged my heavy feet towards the entryway. With every step, the butt plug in my anus rubbed against my inner walls. The aching fullness made my legs weak, and the tail swished behind me. I slipped on my slippers. Master had already opened the front door. The wind from the hallway blew in, hitting my face and bringing me back to a semblance of clarity. "Excellent," Mr. Lin's voice softened. "Since you're here, you will abide by the rules. The first rule is obedience. Whatever I ask you to do, you will do it. Understand?" Su Wantang lowered his head, his voice choked with emotion. "U-understand." "Lift your head." He obediently raised his face, tears welling in his eyes but refusing to fall. Mr. Lin looked at him, then picked up the speculum from the table. It was an oval metal device with a hole in the center and two long metal strips on each side, connected to straps at the ends. Mr. Lin brought the speculum to him and said, "Open your mouth." Su Wantang looked at the cold metal, his teeth chattering. He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth. Mr. Lin inserted the speculum into his mouth. The metallic chill instantly filled his mouth, a cold, astringent taste with a metallic tang that made him gag. The metal strips on either side clamped onto his lips, forcing his mouth open, unable to close. Mr. Lin wrapped the straps around the back of his head and tightened them, securing the speculum. Su Wantang's tears finally fell. He couldn't speak, only emitting muffled whimpers. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, down his chin, staining the black maid outfit, leaving dark marks. He felt a shame he had never known, yet a strange pleasure spread through his heart. "Don't cry," Mr. Lin reached out and wiped away his tears. The warmth of his fingertips made Su Wantang tremble slightly. "This is just the beginning." Mr. Lin then picked up the nasal hook. The nasal hook was a long, thin metal rod with two curved hooks at the end. The tips of the hooks were covered in soft silicone. Mr. Lin gently inserted the nasal hook into Su Wantang's nostril. The two hooks extended inward along the nasal passage until they caught the cartilage of the septum. Su Wantang felt a sharp sting, and his tears flowed more fiercely. His nose felt a dull ache, mixed with the metallic chill, making him want to sneeze. He tried to reach up, but his hands were held down by the servant. "Don't move," Mr. Lin's voice was low, with a hint of warning. Once the nasal hook was secured, Mr. Lin brought a thin chain. One end was attached to the nasal hook, and the other was tied to the strap of the speculum. This way, Su Wantang's head was fixed. Any movement would pull on his nasal cavity and mouth, bringing waves of dull ache and pain. Su Wantang knelt on the floor, trembling all over. His mouth was forced open, saliva constantly flowing. His nose was hooked, making breathing difficult. He could only breathe through both his nose and mouth, each breath carrying the metallic taste and chill. His tears and saliva mixed, dripping down his chin and wetting his collar. "Stand up," Mr. Lin commanded. Su Wantang struggled to his feet. The high heels made his balance precarious. He swayed a few times before managing to stand steadily. Mr. Lin walked behind him, holding a long hemp rope, and began to wrap it around him. The rope started from his shoulders, crossed over his chest, interlaced under his armpits, snaked down his waist, and was tied in a knot around his wrists, binding his hands behind his back. The rope was tight, digging into his skin and leaving red marks. He could feel the rough texture of the hemp rope chafing his skin, causing a burning pain, yet also a sense of being tightly embraced, a strange security. Mr. Lin then took another rope and tied it to his ankles, leaving only half a meter of slack, allowing him to walk with difficulty but not take large strides. Su Wantang looked down at the ropes on his body. The black maid outfit and the brown hemp rope formed a stark contrast, like a beautiful painting brutally torn apart, heartbreakingly exquisite. "Take him to the next room," Mr. Lin ordered. The servant pulled on the rope around Su Wantang's wrist, leading him through a hidden door into another room. This room was larger than the main hall. In the center was a wide wooden bed, with several wooden posts around it. Various whips, ropes, and metal instruments hung from the posts. A large mirror hung on the wall, reflecting Su Wantang's current appearance—a black maid outfit with white lace trim, stockings, high heels, his mouth forced open by the speculum, a nasal hook in his nose, his face streaked with tears and saliva, both pathetic and alluring.