Capture Challenge: Chronicles of Dimensional Bondage

The Canglan Realm, a vast expanse teeming with countless lifeforms, was a cradle of legendary powerhouses and peerless prodigies. Its supreme masters possessed world-shaping might, cementing its status as the preeminent plane in the entire cosmos. However, two millennia ago, the world-renowned Fairy Qinglan—a peerless sword immortal whose beauty and grace had captivated the hearts of millions—vanished without a trace. Following her disappearance, a chilling trend began: the most coveted and breathtaking beauties across the realm started to evaporate into thin air, one after another. At first, the disappearances were confined to the mortal realm. From voluptuous, alluring matrons to innocent, carefree maidens, women of every archetype were snatched away. Whether it was the celebrated courtesans who drove scholars to madness, the gentle, erudite poetesses, the sheltered daughters of noble houses, the wandering swordswomen, the valiant female generals who commanded battlefields, or even the empresses and concubines doted upon by kings—no beauty was spared. Eventually, the wave of terror reached the highest echelons of power; even the supreme Empress, who ruled over billions of lives, and her chief female ministers vanished into the void overnight. The hysteria fermented rapidly, soon sweeping into the supernatural realm of cultivators. It began with a prodigy from the top one hundred of the *Canglan Records of Elegance* suddenly falling silent, followed by the systematic, mass disappearance of the very goddesses and beauties listed within those prestigious pages. One must understand that every woman on the *Canglan Records* was a paragon of beauty, possessing talent so terrifyingly high that they were the absolute elite among the elite. Holy maidens of sacred lands, ethereal sword immortals, elven queens, angelic monarchs, imperial princesses of divine dynasties, seductresses of demonic sects, fox-kin empresses, supreme beast sovereigns, dragon princesses, and cold, aloof celestials... These were women of immense influence, many of whom were the prized heirs of great factions, while others were sovereign rulers in their own right. Yet, they vanished one by one, leaving no trail behind. Countless powerhouses joined forces, turning the entire Canglan Realm upside down, but they could not find a single shred of evidence. It was as if these legendary beauties had simply been erased from existence. With even those of such formidable background and strength unable to escape this fate, the remaining beauties lived in a state of perpetual, suffocating terror, dreading the moment they too might succumb to this unknown, inescapable darkness. This sweeping tide of disappearances has persisted for over three thousand years. Every single day, one or two women from the mortal or cultivation worlds vanish, leaving behind a trail of mystery that has claimed millions of lives. The "Slave Realm" was originally a spatial bubble anchored to the Canglan World. Its entrance was so expertly concealed that it remained entirely undetectable from the outside. Three thousand years ago, the Mistress of Bondage stumbled upon this place by chance and, realizing it was the perfect sanctuary for her dark designs, refined it into her own private domain, bestowing upon it its current name. Three millennia ago, this was a barren wasteland, valued solely for its absolute secrecy; even the most powerful beings could search for eons without catching a hint of its existence. Yet, three thousand years later, the "Slave Realm" has been utterly transformed. From a desolate, lifeless void, it has become a thriving cage housing millions. These inhabitants, save for the Mistress herself, are the beautiful women who have mysteriously vanished from the Canglan World. Snared by the Mistress through various cruel stratagems, these beauties have had their cultivation sealed and their bodies bound in inescapable, agonizing restraints. One by one, they have been reduced to sex slaves, playthings, and submissive pets, existing solely for the Mistress’s amusement. In the heart of the realm, within a sprawling, opulent palace, lay the "Tool Storage Hall," situated to the left of the main entrance. There, Jiang Yuying stood trapped within a metal "standing cage," her eyes glazed and vacant as she stared at the imposing, tightly sealed doors. A month ago, she was a princess of the realm, pampered by her father the Emperor and draped in luxury. Now, she was a prisoner in this living hell, forced to stand motionless in a cramped, suffocating iron cage. A cold, metallic bit was forced into her mouth, stretching her lips to a grotesque, painful degree. It not only robbed her of the ability to speak but also caused a constant, humiliating stream of drool to spill down her chin, leaving her capable of nothing more than muffled, pathetic whimpers. Her arms, torso, and shapely legs were bound tightly with coarse, abrasive hemp ropes, stripping her of all autonomy. The tightness of the restraints sent waves of agony through her, yet she dared not struggle. She had wept until her tears ran dry, moaned until her throat was raw, and suffered until she no longer had the strength to even beg for mercy. For a month, Jiang Yuying had endured unimaginable humiliation. Every moment was an exercise in extreme torment. Time seemed to stretch, turning every second into an unbearable, grinding ordeal that she had to grit her teeth to survive. After spending yet another long, grueling night standing in the cage, Jiang Yuying should have taken this rare moment of respite to close her eyes and recover some strength for the humiliating "work" that awaited her the next day. Yet, despite her eyelids feeling heavy as lead, she kept them open, biting down on the cold metal bit and bracing her trembling legs. She had spent the entire night in a state of exhausted vigilance. Countless times throughout the night, she had pleaded with herself to sleep, knowing that without rest, she would be too weak to complete the tasks the Mistress assigned. Any failure would result in a fresh round of horrific punishment and "re-education." Her body was spent, her spirit shattered, and her nerves frayed to the point of collapse. Everything within her screamed for rest, yet she could not—and would not—sleep. She yearned for her warm, familiar home, the embrace of her parents, the softness of her bed, and the taste of real food. She thought of how she shouldn't be here, bound in ropes, locked in a damp, dark cage, her mouth forced open by a bit, drooling uncontrollably. She shouldn't be suffering every second, unable to move or speak, stripped of all freedom, forced to eat foul, rotting scraps, and reduced to a "human pack animal" for the Mistress, where even the act of urinating required permission and scheduling. There was no hope of escape. Only constant pain, endless torment, futile pleas, and a death she was denied. Stripped of all human rights and dignity, she was treated worse than the lowest criminal, entirely under the Mistress’s iron-fisted control. Just as Jiang Yuying was using memories of the past to numb the agony, lost in a trance of bittersweet nostalgia, the massive, opulent doors of the main hall suddenly groaned open. The sound of clanking metal chains echoed through the chamber, jolting her from her stupor. Jiang Yuying steadied her frayed nerves, her red-rimmed eyes fixed on the entrance. A flicker of hope and deep anxiety stirred within her. "I wonder how my sister is faring... with her spoiled, headstrong nature, how could she possibly endure being trained like a bitch?" The more she thought of her sister, Jiang Yuwan, the more she panicked. But she was helpless, trapped in her own cage, unable to even see her. She could only stare with wide, bloodshot eyes, praying to catch a glimpse of her sister among the line of "working bitches" emerging from the hall. As she watched, a parade of "white, fleshy" creatures—lovely, beautiful women—emerged in several long lines. They crawled forward on all fours, swaying their hips and moving with a unique, rhythmic gait. These were no mere dogs; they were living, breathing beauties. Each one was a goddess in her own right, possessing a face and form that would drive men to madness in the outside world. Enchanting, seductive, pure, mature, cute, naive, noble, gentle, youthful, fiery, and cold—they were a breathtaking array of feminine beauty. The sheer sight of them, a garden of porcelain skin and fragrant flesh, was overwhelming. Even as a woman herself, Jiang Yuying couldn't help but swallow hard, her throat dry with a mix of pity and awe. At this moment, the arms of these beautiful bitches were folded tightly against themselves. Each upper and lower arm was bound securely with thick coils of rope, the bindings biting deep into their soft, pale flesh, leaving no possibility of escape. Their forearms were pressed flush against their biceps, robbing their once-supple limbs of any ability to extend; their arms were effectively shortened by half, with their elbows now serving as the stunted, vestigial "paws" of their new canine form. Their hands, meanwhile, were forced up toward their shoulders, clutching tightly onto sticky, high-tack adhesive balls. Once balled into adorable, helpless pink fists, they were wrapped over and over with heavy-duty tape, pinning their delicate, nimble fingers in place and making even the simplest movement—a mere stretch—an impossibility. A few lengths of hemp rope, two adhesive balls, and a roll of tape were all it took to transform these women’s slender, porcelain arms into stunted, dog-like forelegs, stripping them of the right to ever extend their limbs or fingers again. But to truly reduce a delicate beauty to a bitch that could only crawl on the floor, binding the arms alone was not enough. Following the same logic, their long, shapely legs were folded back as well. Their calves were pressed hard against their thighs, with their soft, tender heels dug firmly into the flesh of their rounded, upturned buttocks. From the knee down to the point where the ankle met the thigh, the legs were lashed tightly with coarse hemp rope. Every few inches, at least four loops of rope were cinched down, reinforced with vertical cross-knots so tight that the women’s plump, white flesh was pinched into deep, purple-red indentations. There wasn't a sliver of space left between their folded limbs; escape was utterly out of the question. Stripped of all clothing, their bodies were left bare, adorned only by the harsh, biting ropes. The intimate parts that were usually kept hidden were now brazenly exposed to the air. Their breasts—some large, some small, some firm, some soft—were tipped with succulent, pink cherries that dazzled the eyes and stirred the senses. Their plump, upturned buttocks were a sea of pale, soft skin; some resembled ripened peaches, others pears, and those with narrow waists and wide hips looked like the base of an hourglass. The waist-to-hip ratio was enough to make one’s throat go dry, a sight so tempting that one could hardly resist the urge to reach out and slap those luscious, fleshy cheeks just to watch them quiver. The endless expanse of heaving, milky breasts—each pair a masterpiece that countless men would kill to hold and knead—and the firm, trembling, fleshy rumps that swayed with every movement were enough to drive a man mad. Yet, the most captivating sight of A parade of exquisite, seductive human bitches wiggled their waists and swayed their plump, fleshy rumps, crawling past Jiang Yuying on all fours. Yet, she failed to catch a glimpse of the one figure she was desperate to see. As time slipped away and the long line of bitches neared its end, the anxiety in Jiang Yuying’s heart began to turn cold. "Alas, I won't see my sister today either. Didn't she just come out of the 'Dairy Farm' a few days ago to be transformed into one of these bitches? Why haven't I seen her even once after all this time?" Jiang Yuying was consumed with worry for her younger sister, born of the same mother and captured alongside her by the BDSM Witch. Her sister had been raised in the lap of luxury, pampered by the Emperor and Empress, and shielded by her older siblings; she had never known a day of hardship or suffering. But now, dragged into this hell on earth, subjected to daily bondage, abuse, and endless humiliation—how could she possibly endure it, with her spoiled, pain-averse nature and her inability to handle the slightest grievance? Not to mention that what they suffered here was far worse than mere grievances. The bondage, the imprisonment, the loss of freedom and dignity, the unspeakable, crushing shame—even Jiang Yuying had broken down multiple times. Her delicate little sister must be crying her eyes out. Just as Jiang Yuying was sinking into despair, the line of bitches emerging from the gate reached its tail end. Because Jiang Yuying’s cage was positioned at the front left of the great hall, while another section of cages stood to the right, the bitches that emerged first were directed to other slave quarters to perform their "duties." Only the beauties at the very end of the line were assigned to the area where Jiang Yuying was kept. "Mmph! Sister! Is that you, Sister? It’s me, Yuwan! Wuu-wuu-wuu..." Suddenly, a series of urgent, excited whimpers rang out. From the line of bitches, a small, petite creature with a haggard, aggrieved face wiggled her modest hips and slender waist, scrambling forward on all fours with clumsy, stumbling movements. Because she was crawling in such a rush and was still unaccustomed to the canine gait, she tripped over her own limbs after only a few steps and collapsed onto the ground. "Ow... wuu-wuu-wuu... it hurts!" The little bitch whimpered in pain, her eyes instantly welling up with a thin mist of tears. Her body ached all over. During training, even a single lash of the whip across her rump would have left her unable to rise, but with her beloved sister—the one she had been pining for—right before her eyes, Jiang Yuwan cast aside the pain. Tears streaming down her face, she mustered every ounce of her strength to scramble back up and crawled frantically toward the cage where Jiang Yuying was trapped. "Wanwan!" Jiang Yuying noticed the bitch breaking rank immediately. She had initially thought this beauty was a newcomer, someone who hadn't yet been broken by the horrors of the training, and that she would surely be punished severely for such reckless behavior. But when she saw that familiar face, she recognized her sister, Jiang Yuwan, and cried out her name in a frenzy of excitement. The two princesses—one trapped in a standing cage, the other bound and forced to crawl on all fours like a bitch—were both overcome with tears, whimpering incessantly at the sight of one another. Alas, Jiang Yuying’s mouth was forced open by a spreader gag, and Jiang Yuwan’s mouth was locked behind a harness-style metal bit. Every word they tried to speak dissolved into garbled, incoherent moans and whimpers; even calling each other’s names had become an impossible dream. As their emotions surged, their movements grew frantic. Jiang Yuying, shackled by iron cuffs at her wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, struggled violently within her cage, causing the structure to groan and creak. The sharp clatter of metal against metal mingled with her desperate, muffled cries, and the crystalline saliva that had been dripping from her lips was flung everywhere as she thrashed her head. Jiang Yuwan was in no better state. Having been raised as a pampered jewel, her sheltered, naive nature made her far more terrified, bewildered, and lost than her sister when faced with the humiliating training of the Slave Realm. Jiang Yuying was on her hands and knees, her bottom arched high and her small head tilted back as she looked up at her Imperial Sister. Her eyes were rimmed with red and swimming in tears, gazing pitifully at the woman she had grown up with. She whimpered and whined incessantly, as if trying to purge all the grievances and sorrow she had endured lately in one go. Yet, in her dog-like posture, crawling on the floor and whimpering with such agitation, she looked exactly like a sweet, pampered puppy that had been wronged outside and was now begging its master for a hug and a pat on the head. Jiang Yuwan was practically wagging her tail, desperate to burrow into her sister’s arms. But they were separated by the dark, cramped confines of the pillory; one was a bitch on the outside, while the other was locked inside, her head held so firmly by iron shackles that she couldn't even move an inch. No matter how agitated Jiang Yuwan became, she could only watch from the outside. "Yee-nnn-nnn... woo-oh-oh-eh-nnn-ah..." "Sister, stay strong! I will find a way to get you out of there. We will make it home, I promise!" Jiang Yuying’s neck, mouth, and forehead were each locked into iron rings bolted to the bars behind the pillory, making it impossible for her to even bow her head to look at her sister properly. She had to squint and cast her eyes downward, straining to catch a glimpse of Jiang Yuwan’s beautiful face, which was etched with exhaustion and agony. Because she had been forced to stand for so long without even a moment to shift her weight, the muscles from Jiang Yuying’s ankles up to her thighs and across her buttocks were in excruciating pain. The constant, rigid tension had caused the veins in her legs to bulge in a grotesque display of varicose distress, each passing second sending sharp, piercing stabs of agony through her limbs. This unbearable torment, which she was forced to endure, gnawed at her nerves. Her long, shapely legs were completely beyond her control, spasming, twitching, and trembling with primal instinct. She couldn't suppress these physiological reactions, and even though she desperately wanted to appear fine so as not to worry her sister, her attempts to stop the trembling only made her muscles tighten further, worsening the spasms. Her legs shook so violently that the heavy pillory rattled and groaned with a rhythmic *creak-creak* sound. As the commotion grew, Jiang Yuwan, who had been busy whimpering her grievances, finally noticed her sister’s legs shaking uncontrollably. "Wuwuwu... Sister, I’m so sorry. I was being too selfish, only thinking of my own pain, not realizing how much you were suffering." Seeing her beloved sister in such agony made Jiang Yuwan’s eyes redden further, and tears began to stream down her face. "Sister, just hold on a little longer. I... I’ll get you out right now." After a few final whimpers, Jiang Yuwan stopped complaining. She scanned her surroundings, her gaze settling on a pink, rubbery rod protruding from the ground directly in front of the pillory. "Wuu, that’s it." After a few self-assuring whimpers, she crawled anxiously toward the rod. "Nnn-nnn?! Wan... Wanwan, don't... no! Sister can still take it, don't... don't do this!" Jiang Yuying’s eyes widened in horror. Her shackled body began to writhe and thrash with such desperate, frantic intensity that the heavy pillory rocked back and forth. Jiang Yuying hadn't been in this pillory for just one day; she knew exactly what the rod was for. It was that very knowledge that sent her into a frenzy, screaming and struggling with every ounce of her strength to make Jiang Yuwan stop. The reason for her despair lay in the humiliating, dignity-stripping designs the Rope-Mistress had devised for her female slaves. Every slave captured by the Rope-Mistress was forced to complete specific tasks. Jiang Yuying and the others locked in the pillories were required to leave their cages each morning to perform grueling labor in various locations—the dairy farm, the winery, the furniture workshop, or the dog-training grounds—all under the most degrading conditions. With so many pillories, each housing a captive beauty, the Rope-Mistress couldn't waste time releasing them one by one. Instead, she selected fully broken slaves to manage the schedules and assign tasks for the millions of captives. Beauties like Jiang Yuwan, who were trained as "bitches" in the inner palace, had a daily routine: once the cages opened automatically, they were tasked with forming lines to release the slaves in the pillories. Only then would they head to the training grounds for inhuman drills, returning at night to lock the slaves back into their positions before crawling into their own cages in the inner palace. As for any thoughts of non-compliance, escape, or rebellion, the pet collars around their necks and the rigorous restraints they faced outside left them absolutely no chance. To release Jiang Yuying, Jiang Yuwan had to interact with the rubber rods. To unlock the iron rings holding Jiang Yuying’s body, the bitch had to press her honey-slit against the rod on the ground and masturbate until she reached a climax, at which point the shackles would release. And to open the pillory itself, the bitch had to perform a deep-throat service on another rod located at the front of the cage, stimulating it until it sprayed its viscous, synthetic fluid into her mouth, triggering the mechanism to swing the cage door open. This was why Jiang Yuying was so distraught. To set her free, her beloved sister would have to masturbate and perform oral service on those rods right in front of her. Any sister would be driven to the brink of madness seeing her cherished sibling forced into such degradation. The agonizing torment of the electric shocks, the utter helplessness of losing control over her own body, the terror of convulsing under the current, the shame of snot, saliva, and tears streaming down her face, and the humiliation of losing control of her bladder—the sheer, pathetic degradation of it all left Xiao Wu not only mortified but paralyzed by a deep, inexpressible dread. As she lay there, still trembling with the lingering trauma of her memories, Chen Fan had already lost his patience. "You slutty rabbit, since you've caught your breath, get up and put those shoes on, or else you can look forward to another round of shocks." Chen Fan’s lips curled into a mocking smirk, but his words sent a shiver down Xiao Wu’s spine, making every hair on her body stand on end. "Don't... please, don't shock me again. I'll put them on, I promise!" Terrified of enduring that inhuman torture once more, Xiao Wu cast aside her pride. Dragging her battered, weakened body, she scrambled to her feet in a panic. Whimpering with grievance, she reached for the sadistic pair of high heels that had been tossed aside—the very sight of them now filling her with dread. Picking up the shoes, which featured heels at least twenty centimeters high, she cast a fearful glance at Chen Fan, who was watching her every move. Like a cowering quail, she lowered her head and began forcing her small, delicate, porcelain-white feet into the near-vertical heels. Xiao Wu strained to arch her feet, trying to wedge them into the shoes. Whether it was because Chen Fan didn't know her size or it was intentional, the heels were clearly a size too small, making the process agonizingly difficult. In the past, she would never have worn such shoes. Even if Chen Fan had threatened her with news of her mother, she would have voiced her defiance or demanded a different pair. But now, broken by the recent torture, she was truly terrified. Even knowing the shoes didn't fit her dainty feet, she dared not complain, only whimpering as she forced her feet into the cramped, unforgiving footwear. The shift in her demeanor made Chen Fan marvel at how truly "trainable" this slutty rabbit was. After only a few shocks, she had become so obedient—a perfect candidate for a sex-slave bitch. Though the shoes were a size too small, Xiao Wu managed to cram her feet into them, though the pressure was excruciating. She tried to wiggle her toes, but the fit was so tight that there wasn't a sliver of space; her toes were crushed together, completely immobile. The tightness was only the beginning. The heels were so impossibly high that she was forced to balance on just her toes and the very balls of her feet. Her insteps were stretched taut, forming a straight line with her calves. She hadn't even stood up yet, and her feet were already aching, throbbing, and on the verge of cramping. With her brows knitted in pain, Xiao Wu struggled to fasten the ankle straps. She loathed high heels, but she was forced to endure the discomfort and the burning ache. After repeating the grueling process for the second shoe, she looked up at Chen Fan with fearful eyes. He tossed two small padlocks with keys attached at her. "Lock the straps, then give me the keys." "I... I understand." Xiao Wu replied in a muffled voice. She picked up the locks and secured the straps around her ankles. With the locks in place, taking the shoes off would be impossible. No matter how much she loathed them, without the keys, she was trapped in these cramped, sadistically high heels. Once the locks were clicked shut, she had to return the keys. Summoning her remaining strength, she struggled to stand. But the moment she rose, the full weight of her body crashed down onto her tiptoes, and the thin, towering heels offered no stability at all. With her arms bound tightly by hemp rope and her small hands encased in gag-balls and full-coverage gloves, Xiao Wu’s upper body was now restrained with suffocating thoroughness; she couldn't even twitch a palm. The arms that once moved with such grace, and the nimble, slender fingers that had been so dexterous, were now rendered useless, pinned firmly behind her back. Under the crushing weight of such absolute restraint, Xiao Wu felt like a limbless doll. Despite her frantic, desperate desire to break free, she could only maintain a posture of humiliated defiance—chest thrust forward, shoulders hunched—forced to endure Chen Fan’s lecherous, perverted gaze as it roamed wantonly over her body. The restraints already in place were stifling enough, yet Chen Fan remained unsatisfied. As Xiao Wu frowned and writhed in a futile attempt to escape, he reached into his bag and pulled out a black leather arm-sleeve, stepping behind her once more. Xiao Wu had no idea what he intended to do, but she knew it could never be anything good. Her brows knit together in alarm as she demanded, "What... what is that? What kind of sick game are you playing now?" "What is it? Heh, heh, heh... something to make you feel even better, of course." Chen Fan offered a wicked grin. Without another word, he gripped the opening of the leather sleeve and slid it over Xiao Wu’s arms, which were already bound together behind her back like a useless, fleshy pillar. He yanked the sleeve upward, encasing the better part of her arms. Then, taking the two leather straps extending from the top of the sleeve, he threaded them under her armpits, pulled them across her chest, and looped them diagonally over her rounded shoulders, anchoring them firmly behind her. With the straps pulled taut and secured, the sleeve was locked onto her arms. No matter how she struggled, there was no chance of it slipping or loosening unless she could undo the harness cinched across her chest. Chen Fan proceeded to tighten and buckle every strap on the sleeve. The once slightly loose leather now clung to her skin with suffocating precision, molding perfectly to every inch of her smooth, pale flesh. This was a heavy-duty, reinforced sleeve. In the sweltering heat of summer, it felt like a sauna; within moments, Xiao Wu’s arms were slick with sweat. Countless beads of fragrant perspiration soaked into the hemp ropes, which were already biting deep into her skin, and dampened the interior of the leather sleeve. The ropes, already cinched to the limit, tightened further as they absorbed the moisture. The intense sensation of constriction made Xiao Wu’s ordeal all the more agonizing. With the sleeve in place, her slender arms were fused into a single, immobile unit. From the front, she looked like a helpless, limbless statue. The sight of her, chest heaving and shoulders hunched back in a desperate, strained posture, was nothing short of erotic. And this was only the beginning.