During our honeymoon abroad, my girlfriend and I were abducted by a human trafficking syndicate, alongside a senior st

"Mmph... mmmph..." My body convulsed violently, my toes curling in a futile, strengthless spasm. Seeing her throw herself into harm's way to save me stirred a sudden, agonizing wave of gratitude in my chest, though I desperately wanted to stop her reckless sacrifice. But with the towel pressed firmly against my face, I couldn't force out a single coherent sound. Perhaps Zhu Yalin had her own calculations—after all, escaping alone was nearly impossible—but her current objective was clearly delusional. Despite her cheeks puffing out with exertion, she couldn't budge the arm pinning my face. Just as she tried to dig her nails into the captor's limb, a third towel was thrust through the car window. Two pairs of large, calloused hands worked in perfect, brutal unison: one shoved her head down, while the other clamped over her nose and mouth. Amidst her desperate, muffled whimpers and frantic twitching, I watched helplessly as she was dragged away from me and hauled back onto the rear seat. The pressure on the back of her head forced her delicate face deeper into the fabric. She curled into a ball, kicking her bare feet upward; her shoes were kicked off into the air, and her plump toes curled so tightly they formed tiny, strained knots. As the sedative took hold, her face cycled from flushed red to a ghostly white, and finally a bruised purple. The muffled cries from beneath the towel grew increasingly faint. For the first time, her almond-shaped eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded with pure, unadulterated terror and the haze of unconsciousness. As the four of us in the cabin finally fell into a heavy, drugged silence, the last of Zhu Yalin’s spasming kicks went rigid, and even her tightly curled toes began to slowly unfurl... The hand over my mouth never wavered. Having inhaled too much of the potent chemical, my vision shattered into fragments that drifted slowly into the void. I felt my body slip away from my control; my chest rose and fell in shallow, rhythmic gasps, as if pressed by an invisible palm. My final memory was of my female classmates, similarly pinned to the back seat, their struggles fading into stillness. As I closed my eyes in a haze of disbelief and despair, the world went quiet. The pungent, suffocating scent of the sedative numbed the sharp edges of my fear. How I prayed this was merely a nightmare, one I would wake from before our flight home... I have no idea how much time passed. When consciousness finally clawed its way back, the first thing I felt was a deep, searing agony in my wrists. It was a profound, aching numbness—the result of ropes biting into skin for hours, cutting off circulation. The pain radiated from my wrists up through my forearms and into my shoulders. When I forced my eyes open, I couldn't even feel my fingers; I tried to curl them, but they were dead weight. Turning my chin slightly, I realized my entire forearms, from wrist to elbow, were bound in thick, black nylon cord. It was wrapped at least fifteen times, sealing my arms behind my back in a rigid, immovable weld. A separate knot at the elbow, looped around my neck in a figure-eight, forced my forearms and upper arms into a locked, agonizing angle, with the excess rope cinched tight around my waist. My arms were utterly, completely incapacitated. "Mmph... mmmph..." The world still swam in darkness. I endured the throbbing in my waist and forced myself to roll over, instinctively trying to straighten my legs, only to find them bound even more cruelly. My bare ankles were cinched with five tight loops of nylon, followed by bindings at my calves, above my knees, and even at the very tops of my thighs. The rope had been threaded between my legs and pulled taut, locking my slender limbs into a rigid, parallel state. I had seen kidnappings in movies, but never anything this methodical. Under the four layers of binding, I couldn't even bend my knees; from the waist down, I felt as if I were encased in plaster. The professionals had also stripped me of any ability to cry for help. My frantic, panicked thrashing was entirely silent, muffled by a thick wad of coarse cotton shoved deep into my throat, triggering a constant, nauseating gag reflex. Over this, layers of silver-grey duct tape were wrapped repeatedly around my chin, over my ears, and around the back of my head, compressing my lower face into a tight, suffocating mask. I couldn't produce a sound louder than a nasal whine. Every breath was a desperate, labored struggle through my nose, drawing in microscopic fibers from the cotton gag that irritated my nasal passages, leaving me trapped in a cycle of suppressed sneezes that would never find release. "Them... are they... mmmph..." Despite my denial, the reality hit me: I had been abducted by a mysterious criminal syndicate while traveling in Southeast Asia. The terrifying rumors I’d heard about this region flooded my mind, a bone-chilling cold spreading from my toes to the crown of my head. Glancing around, I realized I was being held in a dark, dilapidated concrete structure, clearly unfinished. My body stiffened in terror. Yet, as a boy with a sense of responsibility, my first thought was for my three classmates. When I turned my head, my heart hammered against my ribs like a war drum. Ye Jinyue was slumped less than two meters to my right, sitting with her back against the wall. Her bindings were different from mine, yet just as tight. White nylon cord spiraled from her wrists up to her shoulders, pinning her arms against her back like a woven straitjacket. The captors had even placed a small pad of soft fabric between her elbows for "cushioning" before cinching the rope until it bit into her skin. Her legs, clad in denim shorts, were bound exactly like mine—ankles, calves, knees, and thighs—with an extra, precise loop at the mid-thigh, the knots arranged with a terrifying, clinical symmetry. "Mmph... mmmph..." I had never seen such raw, helpless terror in Ye Jinyue’s eyes. As she let out a broken, panicked whimper, she tilted her chin toward me, her mouth stuffed with a black leather ball gag, roughly 3.5 centimeters in diameter. The leather straps dug into her cheeks, pulling her smooth skin into a taut, cone-like shape. Even through the gag, the way her mouth was filled with unseen fabric was painfully obvious. I didn't know what she had endured while unconscious. Her white T-shirt was mostly intact, though the neckline had slipped, revealing a narrow shoulder strap and a expanse of cold, pale collarbone. The belt and button of her tight denim shorts had been undone—likely during her struggle—causing the waistband to roll down and expose the edge of her white underwear. Her beach sandals were gone. The red string she wore around her ankle was now buried beneath layers of nylon. Her gold-painted toenails glimmered in the harsh, pale light, though the toes themselves were beginning to turn a faint, bruised purple from the relentless constriction of the ropes. Although this scene of breathtaking, explicit vulnerability had appeared in my fantasies countless times—as it is common for adolescent boys to harbor strange fetishes and hero-complex daydreams—the reality was lethal. We were all victims now, and I knew I couldn't afford to just gawk like an idiot. I forced my gaze away, but when I followed the sound of a terrified, muffled groan and locked eyes with Su Wanxing, my pupils were instantly ensnared once more. She was sprawled to my left, her hands bound tightly behind her back with coarse brown hemp rope—a material even rougher than the cord digging into my own skin. The rope was so tight it left deep, distinct indentations on her dark-toned, toned arms. Her upper body was trussed more securely than mine or Ye Jinyue’s; from wrists to elbows to mid-biceps, the rope crisscrossed in complex patterns. It snaked up to her shoulders, forcing her neck back in a strained arch, while the end of the rope was pulled taut between her breasts, down through her cleavage, and anchored firmly around her lumbar spine. At a glance, it resembled the classic, elaborate *shibari* seen in period dramas. Her legs and thighs were bound similarly to Ye Jinyue’s, but her cherry-red lips were stuffed with a thick white towel, secured by layers of tape wrapped from her chin to the bridge of her nose. I could only guess the color of the gag from the corner peeking out, but it was clearly wider than the cloth in my own mouth, stretching her cheeks outward like a squirrel hoarding food, creating a taut, bulging silhouette. As the school’s star athlete, Su Wanxing’s struggles were far more violent than Ye Jinyue’s. Her beautiful legs kicked wildly, ignoring the bite of the ropes around her knees and thighs. In her frantic writhing, her pink T-shirt had been pulled completely out of her denim shorts, the hem bunched up around her waist. One of her flip-flops had been kicked off during her earlier struggle, and the other had likely been confiscated by our captors. Her bare feet scraped against the floor, her pink pearlescent toenail polish catching the light. From the side, the curve of her calves and thighs was incredibly soft, yet the ropes cinched tight against the denim shorts, creating a series of shallow, layered indentations on her muscular thighs. After a long moment of forcing myself to calm down, I looked toward the far wall. Zhu Yalin, petite and fragile, was imprisoned at the very end. She sat slumped against the wall, trembling. Her bindings were entirely different from ours: ropes were coiled tightly around her ankles, calves, knees, thighs, waist, breasts, and shoulders. Each loop, after cinching her joints, was tethered to hooks embedded in the concrete, pinning the flexible dancer to the wall. Her arms, flailing in panic, were bound with fine hemp cord in a rigid "I" shape connected to her waist. Her lips were forced wide open by a large red ball gag. Perhaps because she had tried to resist while attempting to save me, the captors had punished her with a gag half a size larger than Ye Jinyue’s. Since Zhu Yalin had such a small mouth and soft, baby-faced cheeks, the gag stretched her jaw to its absolute limit. Her tear-filled eyes were wide with agony and terror. A thin, raw crack had formed at the corner of her pale lips from the pressure. To make matters worse, a white cloth was wrapped under her chin and knotted tightly at the back of her head, muffling her whimpers even further. Her hair tie had been removed, and loose strands of hair, dampened by sweat, clung to her forehead. "Mmmph! Mmmph-mmph!" Seeing me wake up, Zhu Yalin’s eyes welled with tears. She blinked rapidly and kicked her feet toward me, instinctively seeking help from the only boy present. I could only watch, helpless. Her light-colored beachwear had been stripped away, leaving her in only a white tank top and oversized swim trunks. One shoulder strap had slipped during her struggles, exposing her rounded shoulder and delicate collarbone. Her tiny, size-36 feet, pulled back by the ankle restraints, could only press against the corner of the wall, her pink-painted toes curling in silent, desperate agony. I was terrified. Bound and gagged just like them, I was only eighteen. The thought that these three beautiful girls, who had been laughing and joking by my side just yesterday, were now trussed up in such shameful, explicit positions—cowering in this dark, abandoned concrete room and emitting shrill, muffled cries—made my blood run cold. Yet, to my own shame, beneath the terror, a forbidden heat began to spread through my spine. As my fear reached its peak, my cock hardened, pushing against the front of my shorts. If I weren't gagged, I would have cursed my own filth and depravity. My mind was flooded with subconscious lust. Under the influence of adolescent hormones, the fantasies I’d had about these three girls were now manifesting in a way far more real and explicit than I had ever imagined. I knew that as a fellow victim, I couldn't act on these perverse thoughts—not when we were in the hands of ruthless Southeast Asian criminals who would subject us all to unimaginable humiliation and torture. As my face burned and my body stiffened, Su Wanxing let out a muffled groan. I turned to see her flexing her long, toned legs. Using her heels to push against the floor, she dragged herself toward me like a fish gasping on the shore. Her watery eyes, framed by tape and towel, were wide with terror, yet she blinked at me with desperate intent. The message was clear: she was trying to initiate a way for us to save each other. Seeing Su Wanxing’s movement, Ye Jinyue fought down her panic and began to wriggle. The tight ropes allowed her only small, rhythmic movements of her waist. Her gold-painted toes curled downward as she moved. With every inch she gained, the ball gag in her mouth emitted a soft, rhythmic squeak against her teeth. Seeing this, Zhu Yalin also began to kick her legs frantically, but because she was tethered to the wall, she soon collapsed back onto the floor, drenched in sweat. Still, she urged us on with desperate, tearful whimpers. As the only boy, I couldn't just sit there. I rocked my shoulders, pushing against the wall behind me, and forced my waist forward. Ignoring the searing pain of the ropes digging into my thighs and knees, I maneuvered my wrists, moving clumsily but steadily toward them. Though we couldn't speak, our goal was simple: get close enough to touch, to loosen each other’s knots or rub off our gags. If even one of us could be freed, we might find a way to call for help or find a tool to cut the rest of these ropes. 　It was another day when my limbs wouldn’t obey me and my mind was foggy, yet my brain was unusually hyperactive. Once again, I was dragged from the corner to the center of a mysterious room. Arranged side by side with mine were three other chairs, all bathed in glaring light. The seats were made of black leather; the armrests and legs were studded with metal rings, and the backrests were, of course, adjustable. Surrounding the chairs were various visually striking props whose names I couldn’t identify, but judging by their design, they were clearly intended to stimulate and torment the sensitive areas and genitals of us boys and girls. At that very moment, I had already been tied to the first chair, and then I watched helplessly as the other three beautiful women were also tied to their respective chairs one after another. Soon afterward, under the collector’s guidance, the men began to bind the women’s delicate feet in a very thorough and unconventional manner, I saw them take out fine cotton rope and tightly bind the big toes and the second and third toes of each woman’s feet in sequence, wrapping the rope around three times and tying it off with a tight knot. This ensured that once the soles of their feet became extremely sensitive—to the point where they were almost indistinguishable from their genitals— they were unable to curl their toes to relieve their craving and itching. Next, their ankles were tightly secured with black leather straps, then covered with another layer of nylon rope, running from the ankle bone downward, constricting the tops of their feet so that their feet could only rest on the footrest in front of the chair, unable to wriggle. After securing their feet, their calves, knees, and thighs were tightly bound every 10 centimeters with a leather strap or rope, At the lumbar region, a thick leather belt as wide as a corset was wrapped from just below the ribs all the way to just above the kneecaps; at the back, a heavy padlock was specifically fastened to ensure she was forced to lie flat against the armrests. Her wrists, the middle of her forearms, and elbows were each secured with a metal buckle, Apart from my toes, my ankles and thighs—as well as my upper body—were subjected to the same treatment. Even my fingers were forcibly spread apart and secured in separate rubber rings, depriving me of even the ability to curl my fingers into fists, Finally, there was my neck: a thin steel ring was positioned precisely at the base of my throat, forcing me and the three girls to keep our bodies straight and pressed tightly against the chair’s backrest. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single joint that could move freely… 　　 　　I’m not sure what the collector meant by “tempering” when he mentioned it at the end. But it’s clear that he intends to keep us tied up here for a long time—otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to such elaborate and meticulous lengths. Even our gags were replaced with a new size and method. The men brought brand-new silicone gags, one size larger in diameter than before. First, they stuffed a folded wad of cotton cloth into our mouths to fully expand the oral cavity, then pressed the ball gag all the way down. After securing it at the back of our heads, they ensured the cotton cloth pressed against the ball couldn’t be pushed out by our tongues, then wrapped wide white medical tape around our heads three times, from the chin to the bridge of the nose, completely sealing the ball gag and cotton cloth inside our mouths. Finally, they tightened the leather strap at the back of our heads once more, applying external pressure to constrict our throats, The four of us could only emit faint grunts through our nostrils—we were unable to make any louder sounds. What filled the three of us with utter terror was that, through the opening in the mouthpiece, a perforated tube had been inserted directly through the cotton padding stuffed in our mouths and thrust into the back of our throats. As the collector put it, this was to facilitate feeding us—meaning that for a very long time to come, not only would we not be released from our restraints, but we would even have to endure our normal bodily functions while confined to this terrifying chair… 　　 　　The collector quickly revealed his main objective to us. To my horror, I saw three bizarrely shaped VR headsets being secured one after another onto the heads of the three female classmates. Once fastened from the top of their heads, they covered their eyes and ears, with padded straps at the chin ensuring even the finest strands of hair on their delicate heads were completely enclosed. While I stood there in a daze, an identical VR headset was tightly strapped around my head as well; my eyes were covered by a special eye mask, and my ear canals were firmly sealed by electrified earplugs with extremely strong soundproofing. The moment the device powered on, an extremely clear image immediately filled my field of vision. As I made out the scene, a reflexive tingling and swelling instantly surged through my lower body. It wasn’t a chaotic darkness, but rather an erotic video with extremely high color saturation, The scene began with a close-up of a pair of delicate, fair feet—their toes spread apart and tightly bound with rope—as a tongue, whose owner’s features were indistinct, licked them relentlessly. As the soles of the feet were stimulated by the tongue, muffled moans and groans pierced my eardrums, and the toes kept curling. As the frequency of the curling slowed, the camera continued to pan upward, revealing the area between the legs of this beautiful older woman—whose features were indistinct but who appeared to be a few years older than us. At that moment, tightly bound as she was, she was pinned down by a naked man; her vaginal opening was stretched wide by his cock, the camera even zoomed in for a close-up. Then the shot swiftly drifted upward, bombarding my eyes with a visual assault of her flushed face and glassy eyes. But before I could struggle in utter shame and indignation—as the cock gradually stiffened— and I could clearly make out the contours of her features, the scene cut away abruptly. The subsequent scene changes were even faster than I’d imagined—a new scene would cut in every 20 seconds at most, ranging from foot jobs to oral sex to the convulsions of climax during penetration, with the camera angles constantly shifting between first-person and third-person perspectives, lewd sounds kept pouring into my ears. In fact, the intense audio wasn’t just coming from the noise-canceling earbuds plugged into my ears—even the vibrating pads pressed against my cheekbones delivered a powerful bone-conduction effect, causing the extremely lewd sounds and viscous moans from the screen to penetrate directly into our auditory nerves. This immersive dual assault on our senses—both visual and auditory—made us feel as if we were right there; there was no way to block it out, no way to turn down the volume, and no way to pause the footage. Although by this point I couldn’t help but want to keep watching, instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. But no more than a few seconds had passed before a stinging sensation, like an electric shock, shot through my eyelids, forcing me to open my bloodshot eyes wide once more… 　　 　　The four of us were thus firmly strapped side by side in our chairs, our entire bodies tightly bound and gagged. In addition to the VR headsets, the kidnappers had even placed special vibrators under each chair, positioned directly beneath the seat to target the perineum of the bound victims. whenever the scene reached its climax, they would apply corresponding stimulation between our legs. I wasn’t sure how the three female classmates beside me were feeling at that moment, but with the soft, cup-like covering constantly thrusting against my cock, combined with the effects of the drugs, I had already ejaculated several times beyond my control. Just as I twitched slightly at the corner of my mouth from ejaculating once more and lowered my head in slight exhaustion, the lewd images looping in my mind suddenly paused briefly. Then, through the high-definition camera, revealed the current situation of the other three victims. Under Ye Jinyue’s chair, a sole-stimulation plate had been installed, with hard, small protrusions pressing firmly against the soles of her feet, accompanied by intermittent heating and vibration. The chair restraining Su Wanxing had been fitted with additional nipple stimulators, and even the petite Zhu Yalin had tiny electrode devices wedged between her toes. The scenes unfolding before my eyes caused my pupils to widen in a reflexive reaction. By this point, my numb soul could no longer muster any sympathy or concern for them. This transformation, rooted deep in my very marrow, naturally filled me with shame and indignation, But before I could take a closer look, the scene shifted again. An extremely explicit pornographic video began looping in my mind once more—and I had even become the focus of special attention. A vibrator of the same model had been attached to my chest, and even the soles of my feet had been fitted with massage pads identical to the ones on Ye Jinyue’s… The rope artist approached quickly, skillfully unfastening the cotton rope and letting it drape naturally from her hand. After smoothing it out in the air, she clamped the rope around Yui’s fair, delicate wrists. Three turns to the left, three to the right—she bound the wrists tightly together, ensuring each coil was pulled taut and flush against the skin. Yui couldn't help but clench her small fists in tension. It was clear that while the woman lacked malice or impatience, she worked with a mechanical, detached efficiency, far less tender than the rope artists employed by Yui’s usual handlers. Yet, for Yui, this was a novel experience; she consciously relaxed her arms, allowing the woman behind her to pull the rope upward, winding it vertically three times before securing it with a firm knot against the inside of her wrists. Following the same method, the artist proceeded to bind Yui’s forearms, elbows, and the joints below her shoulder blades, alternating horizontal wraps with vertical knots. With a forceful press, she pushed Yui’s bound arms inward, forcing her shoulders back until her arms formed a graceful 'Y' shape against her spine. Without a moment’s delay, the artist grabbed another length of rope, reinforced the bound wrists, and pulled the line forward, cinching it tightly across Yui’s soft, pale abdomen, just visible beneath her lingerie. She then looped a cord around the nape of Yui’s neck, pulling it taut before twisting the two ends into a single strand. This was threaded between the cleavage of her breasts, then split again to wrap firmly around the upper and lower curves of her full, heaving bosom. The rope was then pulled back, biting deep into the creases of her armpits where her arms were folded behind her. In no time, Yui was encased in a tight, professional European-style straight-arm bind. "Hiss... ah... mmph... ngh..." Feeling the ache in her joints, Yui bit her lip, letting out a series of seductive moans and gasps. She had wanted to beg for a lighter touch, but remembering her insistence on a "genuine experience," she swallowed the words. It was obvious that this woman, working for a human trafficking syndicate, lacked the gentle touch of her employer’s staff. The restrictive pressure was intense, and as the ropes dug into her muscles and pressed against her periosteum, the friction made it difficult for her to breathe. The constant, unbearable tingling in her breasts made Yui acutely aware of the pain and helplessness inherent in such bondage. Yet, this sensation stirred long-dormant memories. Years of various stimulating challenges had significantly increased her body’s flexibility; despite the tightness of the ropes, she adjusted her shoulders and soon grew accustomed to the sensation. Once Yui’s breathing steadied, the artist quickly bound her thighs and knees together. She then cinched a rope horizontally across Yui’s full, rounded buttocks, pulling the fabric of her skimpy thong taut and dividing her semi-nude cheeks into two distinct, fleshy mounds. Finally, a crotch rope was threaded between her legs and pulled upward to secure the bind. Having only recently experienced an orgasm, Yui’s body was still sensitive and weak; the sensation of the rope digging into her labia felt like an invasive, bone-deep violation, causing her to squeeze her thighs together and writhe instinctively. But before she could let out a cry, the second artist, carrying a kit of tools, stepped forward. She stuffed a clean handkerchief into Yui’s mouth and secured it with a ball gag, effectively stripping her of the right to express her dissatisfaction or ignore the situation, just as they would with any other piece of "merchandise." To Yui’s surprise, the artists did not bind her lower legs or ankles. Instead, the woman with the kit produced a pair of iron shackles connected by a short chain and quickly locked them around Yui’s ankles. With her thighs and knees bound together and her ankles restricted by a fifteen-centimeter chain, Yui could only manage a clumsy, shuffling gait. Before she could find her balance, she felt a sharp, stinging slap against her buttocks. Having not felt such blatant disrespect in a long time, Yui’s eyes twitched as she let out a series of rhythmic, muffled whimpers. Her small, fair feet scraped against the floor, the shackles clattering with every move. Before she could even stand straight, the other artist grabbed the lead rope trailing from between her legs and pulled, forcing the cord to grind against her labia while dragging Yui forward. Swaying unsteadily, the clinking of her shackles echoing through the room, Yui was led out of the secret chamber where she had been held for so many days. Time seemed to blur into nothingness. It wasn’t until the three young beauties, who had been huddled against Yui in a tight, tangled knot of limbs, finally drifted off into a deep slumber—exhausted from their playful chatter and restless shifting—that the heavy door creaked open. Following Yui’s prior instructions, the human trafficking syndicate’s staff treated these younger subjects with a degree of specialized care. With a lingering, reluctant gaze, Yui watched as they were gently lifted and carried out of the room. As the female rope artist stepped back inside, Yui knew exactly what awaited her: the familiar ritual of being bound tight before being lulled back into the dark, restricted void of sleep. Yui let out a weary yawn, her senses dulled by the late hour. She watched as the rope artist lifted her legs—still bound tightly together—and placed them onto the mattress. As the woman pushed her down, preparing to fold her legs into the pre-arranged "quadruped" hogtie, Yui felt a sudden, impulsive spark of curiosity. She gave a soft, deliberate kick, slipping her wrists free from the woman's grip. Instead, she requested a change for the night: a vertical suspension in a full split. She reasoned that the stretch would alleviate the stifling, restless heat trapped in her limbs. While it lacked the comfort of lying flat, for Yui, it was a different kind of discipline—a way to both exhaust and release her body. The rope artist’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. There was a world of difference between the passive, prone hogtie and the grueling, vertical split suspension. Yet, given Yui’s unique status, the woman simply nodded with a calm, professional air. She unwound the ropes binding Yui’s legs, massaging the pale, tender skin until the angry red welts began to fade. Once Yui was sufficiently relaxed, she helped her stand on the plush mattress. Since a full-split suspension required one foot to bear the weight all night, standing on the cold, hard floor would have been unbearable; the mattress provided a necessary cushion. The artist hoisted one of Yui’s ankles high into the air, signaling her colleague to come over and wrap her arms around Yui’s waist from behind to steady her. "Mmm-hnn... ahh..." Despite Yui’s exceptional flexibility, she had rarely attempted this position. As her leg was pulled taut, a sharp, searing ache radiated through her crotch. The leg supporting her weight trembled uncontrollably against the mattress, but she gritted her teeth and held firm. She watched, breathless, as her other leg was pulled into a perfect 180-degree line, the ankle cinched tight with multiple loops of rope. The line was then fed through a beam in the ceiling. With a final, secure knot, she was hoisted into the air, suspended by a single ankle. To make the night slightly more bearable, the artist shifted the overhead anchor point half a meter toward the wall, allowing Yui’s lower back to rest against it, and tucked a soft pillow behind her for support. "Goodnight, Miss Yui... this might be quite uncomfortable. In our facility, we usually only reserve this for the most disobedient 'merchandise' as a form of punishment. I hope you can endure it..." A flicker of concern crossed the artist’s eyes, but she respected Yui’s choice. After gagging her with a ball gag and securing a blindfold over her eyes, she bowed and exited. As darkness swallowed her vision, Yui felt that familiar, suffocating sense of confinement she had known every night in the manor. Even though she wasn't lying down, and a dull, throbbing pain pulsed between her legs, Yui tightened her muscles, finding the balance point on the mattress with her toes. After a few adjustments, she settled into a rhythm. If any other victim were suspended like this, they would have collapsed within hours, but Yui’s years of "training" had hardened her. She focused on her breathing, finding her center, and soon, her consciousness drifted away. Before long, only the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing escaped the gaps around the gag, as she fell into a sleep that was as bizarrely positioned as it was deep and sweet. "Mmph... mmph..." Time lost its meaning. When Yui finally regained consciousness, a sharp, agonizing ache in her lumbar spine jolted her awake. Her internal clock, honed by years of captivity, told her it was morning. Though still blindfolded, she could feel the toll the night had taken; her spine felt brittle, and her supporting foot had curled into a cramp, numb and unresponsive. She also sensed she hadn't woken naturally. A warm, ticklish sensation brushed against her face, and her lips—held apart by the gag—felt wet and slick. It was as if the touch against her mouth had pulled her from the depths of her slumber. As if to confirm her suspicion, she heard the seductive, rhythmic breathing of a woman directly in front of her, accompanied by a faint, elegant scent. A lock of soft hair brushed against her cheek. Yui instinctively let out a muffled, resistant groan, pulling her head back, but the stranger’s hot, flushed face pressed closer. Two soft, warm lips enveloped her own, pressing against the gag and gently sucking at her mouth. Yui felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks. She had kissed other women before, but being blindfolded in the heart of a trafficking den, kissed by a stranger, stirred a strange, perverse sense of shame. Yet, knowing she needed to cooperate to get through the morning, she didn't pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, meeting the stranger’s kiss. When the woman finally pulled back, nibbling playfully at her numb lips, she took the opportunity to release Yui’s suspended leg. The limb fell heavily, dead and unresponsive, and the sudden rush of blood back into her joints sent a wave of electric agony through her spine. With a weak, involuntary moan, Yui collapsed to her knees, falling into the arms of the mysterious artist. The woman held her with a lingering, intimate touch, rubbing her shoulders before laying her prone on the mattress. Though still blindfolded and exhausted, Yui felt her legs being folded back, her heels pressed against her buttocks, and her wrists and ankles pulled together once more. She was back in the familiar "quadruped" hogtie. The artist lifted her by the waist, and with the help of another woman who had entered the room, they hoisted her up and carried her out of the cell. In a daze, Yui felt her wrists suddenly jerked upward as she was hoisted into the air. A sharp, familiar sting radiated from her joints to her lower back. Experienced as she was, even through the blindfold, she knew she had been bound in the quadruped position and hung in mid-air, her entire weight supported by the ropes connecting her wrists, ankles, and waist. She couldn't tell exactly what position she was in, but the rhythmic *clack-clack* of high heels on the floor, accompanied by the faint vibration of wheels, told her she wasn't hanging high. She was likely being transported on a trolley. "Mmph! Mmph-mmph... mmm-hnn..." When my cousin finally caught sight of me appearing in the living room, and witnessed the tragic state of Tangtang bound before her, a flicker of panic and sorrow crossed her eyes. But she quickly began tossing her head, her nose twitching urgently as she let out desperate, helpless whimpers through the leather harness gag that sealed her lips. The position I’d forced her to hold for so long was becoming unbearable. I had restrained her upper body in a textbook European straight-jacket bind, pulling it tight to achieve the exact aesthetic I desired. To ensure she couldn't possibly escape, I’d upgraded her to a "Reverse Guanyin" bind—her arms folded upward behind her neck, palms pressed together in a reverse prayer position, with the base of her thumbs cinched tight with thin cord. The rope loops running from her wrists and forearms pulled forward, digging deep into her biceps and breasts, forcing them into a tantalizing, squeezed silhouette, while the rear lines extended upward, anchoring directly to her ankles. Naturally, her beautiful legs were bound tightly from thigh to ankle. To be absolutely sure, and to take full advantage of her incredible flexibility, I hadn't just folded her legs; I had pulled her toes until they nearly touched the back of her head. Her thighs and waist were arched in an exaggerated, unnatural curve, with her knees bent at a sharp 90-degree angle. She was suspended in the air, her body contorted into a perfect, submissive "D" shape. I had cleverly pulled the lines connecting her waist and inner thighs upward, crossing them in an 'X' to meet her ankles, forcing her supple body into a double-fold at both the waist and the knees. This was a novel experiment for me. Seeing Sasha already struggling to hold her head up from the sheer ache, I quickly grabbed my phone to snap a few photos. I’d been too busy dealing with Tangtang earlier to properly admire my handiwork. Tangtang, tied to the chair, stared at my cousin’s contorted form with a look of utter horror and disbelief—my reputation as a terrifying monster in her eyes only growing by the second. I patted Tangtang’s head before walking over to Sasha, slowly lowering the custom iron ring apparatus. I kneaded the soft, pale skin of my cousin’s inner thigh and smiled. "How are you, Sasha? It seems your dear friend thinks very little of our sibling affection, labeling me a heinous villain. That’s why I decided to let her stay for the tour, to watch and learn... I recall you agreed to all of this willingly, didn't you?" As I lowered her completely, her knees and torso remained locked in that provocative 'D' shape, and I pulled her into my arms with a smile. "Mmph! Mmph-mmph..." My naive little cousin was on the verge of tears. Partly because the position was agony, but mostly because she hadn't expected me to use such a depraved binding on Tangtang as well. The dual assault of physical and mental pain caused her to lose control, her head nuzzling into my arm, her nose bumping against me in a frantic, crumbling state. I showed no mercy to my distressed cousin; instead, I landed a heavy smack on her white-stockinged bottom and repeated my question slowly. Only when she looked up at me, eyes brimming with grievance, and nodded vigorously through her muffled whimpers, did I reach out to release the tension on the ropes binding her waist and knees. "Hnn... hnn... mmm-mmm..." Without a doubt, the prolonged binding had pushed her joints to the limit. Her small feet flopped heavily onto my knees, and I could clearly hear the sickening *crack* of her spine as it finally found relief. She rolled her eyes back in pain, her arms twitching weakly. After ten seconds of adjustment, she slumped against me, her eyes filled with the exhaustion of release, her muffled moans carrying a note of weary relief. Even when I traced my fingers from her hips down to her bound feet, lightly teasing her soles, she could only curl her toes and twitch her feet instinctively, lacking the strength to even kick out. Seeing that she was being cooperative, I tidied her hair and unbuckled the leather strap holding her gag. I slowly slid the silicone gag—a 1:1 replica of a man's anatomy, slick with her saliva—from her mouth. Since we had already signed a slave contract, she didn't scream for help as Tangtang had expected. Instead, after a few ragged breaths, she bit her lip and pleaded in a pitiful, trembling voice, "C-cough... please, brother, can you let Tangtang go? She’s innocent... you really can't treat her like this. I’ll do whatever you want, just please... please... *sob*..." Seeing her tears streaming down, I felt a pang of pity, but there was no turning back. I pulled her into my embrace, wiping her tears while dragging Tangtang’s chair closer. "I’m sorry, Sasha. I don't want to hurt your friend either, but since she’s discovered our secret, I have to be 100% sure she won't leak a word before I can let her go. Don't worry, after the holiday, you two will return to school safely. I don't want your parents or the school noticing anything strange. After all, with so many beautiful girls keeping me company, I have no intention of ending up in prison while I'm still young—I want to enjoy this heavenly life for a few more years. But it seems your friend isn't going to be very cooperative, is she, Tangtang?" I kept my arm around my cousin, my hand slipping into her collar to knead her chest, while I smiled at Tangtang. Tangtang’s temper was truly something else. Since I hadn't turned the 'pretty' switch on, the girl seemed to have adapted to the electric stimulation on her nipples. Despite her shoulders shaking violently as she tried to dislodge the clamps, she had recovered from the initial shock. Hearing my words, she glared at me with fierce, defiant eyes, chin held high, humming and huffing in protest. "Tangtang, please don't... don't make him angry... he... he... mmph!" Seeing Tangtang’s reaction, my cousin panicked. She knew that the more Tangtang resisted, the less likely I was to let her go. Sasha looked at her best friend with tear-filled eyes, but before she could finish, I covered her mouth with my hand, signaling her to be quiet. I turned to the head-shaking Tangtang and slowly unbuckled her harness. Tangtang, true to her fiery nature, didn't wait for me to remove the gag; she frantically worked her jaw, tensing her tongue and whipping her head until the wet silicone object flew out. "You crazy, perverted freak! Let us go! This is kidnapping! Sexual assault against a minor! What did you shove inside me?! Let us go right now, immediately... or else... you... you... you! Aaaah! Mmph-mmph!" I had to admire that even though Tangtang was smarter than her peers, she was foolishly naive in this situation. Provoking a captor like this would only make things worse. Listening to her loud, incessant cursing, I smiled and pulled out the remote for the egg vibrator. When she saw it, the memory of the previous torture made her eyes widen in terror, but she still glared at me. I pressed the button. As she convulsed in the chair, her non-stop screaming dissolved into a piercing, heart-wrenching shriek, trailing off into a series of strangely seductive, breathless gasps—before I firmly clamped my hand over her mouth, just as I had with my cousin. "Heh... my sweet little Tangtang, just the two of us again. You slept quite soundly last night, didn't you? Oh, my apologies, I couldn't help myself and ended up finishing inside your mouth. But Sasha went through the same thing, and you’ll learn to adapt, you know..." After Sasha left, I quickly pulled Tangtang back into my arms with a smile. Because she had been held in that position for so long yesterday, she could only collapse limply against me. Her eyes, initially glazed over with the numbness and confusion of deep trauma, regained focus the moment I mentioned last night. Her emotions flared up instantly; she jerked her head up, glaring at me with tear-filled, venomous eyes, her pink tongue darting out as she let out a series of muffled, incoherent whimpers and ragged breaths. "My, my, that little mouth of yours is quite sharp, isn't it? Look at your tongue... hmm, it seems my cum is all gone from your mouth. I suppose you swallowed it all last night, didn't you... hmm?" Seeing her on the verge of a mental breakdown, I felt not a shred of guilt. Instead, I smiled and pushed my finger through the gap in her spreader, digging at the tip of her tongue and the back of her throat, forcing a gag out of her. But Tangtang was utterly exhausted; despite using every ounce of her strength, she could only thrash her head against my chest like a frozen snake. Satisfied, I confidently flipped her over and, under her wide-eyed gaze, expertly unfastened the ropes binding her wrists. "Mmph... mmph...?" Tangtang continued to wail in grief, but the moment she realized her hands were free, she hesitated for a heartbeat before clenching her fists and striking at my chest. Her arms were too weak to carry any force, so I let her beat against me like a petulant little sister, her muffled cries echoing through the spreader. I proceeded to untie the ropes around her silk-stockinged legs. She didn't give up; the moment she felt free, she scrambled to crawl off the bed with legs still numb and tingling, but I caught her by the waist and pulled her back. I was playing with my prey, keeping her firmly under my control, offering her a sliver of hope only to snatch it away. Watching her flail her arms and kick her dainty feet in vain only made her look more charming and exciting to me. "Mmph... ungh... you pervert... let me go... I... mmph... *cough*... mmmph!!!" As her strength slowly returned, Tangtang struggled even harder. Since I was pinning her waist, she arched her back to sit up, reaching her hands toward the back of her head, clearly trying to undo the fastener of her gag. Because the spreader was just a hollow metal ring with no filler, she could still manage to emit muffled curses. Her weak, saliva-choked voice made her sound like an angry little wildcat. I couldn't let her succeed; just as her fingers reached the buckle, I grabbed her delicate wrists, pinning them together behind her back like a criminal in cuffs. I then hauled her shoulders into my chest, my hands wandering up over her soft, pale belly. "Heh, girls your age don't have the same elasticity as high schoolers, but you're so soft and smooth... the texture is just divine. Don't be so worked up. I’ll definitely let you go after the National Day holiday. I’m sure you’ve guessed what happened with Sasha. As long as you’re as obedient as she is and sign the secret agreement to become my little slave, I’ll take such good care of you, won't I..." My hands moved up to knead her firm breasts, my fingers tugging at the nipple clamps. The shame and physical stimulation made her white-stockinged legs kick wildly against the bed, her muffled gasps growing rapid. When I pressed my palms firmly into her breasts, she arched her spine, her heels digging into the mattress before she collapsed back down. But when I mentioned making her my slave, she shook her head violently, even while pinned in my arms. "Mmph... in your dreams... the police... they’ll catch you... mmph... ungh... *cough*..." Perhaps due to the emotional overload, Tangtang choked on her own saliva, coughing repeatedly. This was expected. While her resistance was weaker than yesterday, breaking her completely was still a challenge. A flash of cruelty mixed with excitement crossed my eyes. I stretched lazily and sat up, keeping one arm around her to ensure she couldn't escape, then opened the nightstand drawer. I pulled out two new SM tools I’d custom-ordered online—a specially modified nasal plug and a full-coverage latex hood. "Hmm? Such a stubborn little thing. You can still curse with your mouth blocked like that? Were you the class representative for literature? I’ll give you one last chance. If you don't listen, I’m going to plug your nose. You’ll be forced to breathe only through your mouth, and if I stuff something in there, you might just suffocate..." It was a cruel threat, but I was already too far gone. I smiled and dangled the medical-grade nasal plug—complete with silicone tips and an internal spring mechanism—in front of her. She shuddered in my arms, but still retorted with a fierce "Mmmph!" I had no patience left. I wanted to silence even her nasal breathing. With that twisted thought, I flipped her over, pinned her face-down against the pillow, and forced her head back. I clamped her delicate nose and inserted the two silicone plugs into her nostrils, which were flared and hot with breath. Tangtang was clearly terrified now; she kicked the bed frame violently, her tongue thrusting forward through the spreader. Once the plugs were in, I pressed the activation button. The internal springs expanded the silicone, visibly stretching her nostrils from the outside. This was exactly what I wanted: by using the spring mechanism, I could completely strip her of the ability to breathe through her nose, unlike a standard gag that only restricts it. "Mmph... ungh... I can't... mmph... mmph..." The effect was immediate. Her eyes widened in panic as she turned bright red from oxygen deprivation. I watched as she tried in vain to inhale through her nose, but when she realized it was useless, her pupils flickered with terror. She tilted her chin up, gasping for air through the only channel left—her throat. Even when I told her I’d remove the plugs if she signed the agreement, she refused to yield, glaring at me with hysterical eyes and kicking her feet against my stomach. "Heh, you really are a glutton for punishment. Let’s see how you like being completely cut off from the world..." Her kicks were starting to annoy me. I pinned her hands to the bed frame to keep her from pulling out the plugs, then reached into the drawer for two wax-sealed waterproof earplugs. I tucked her hair aside and shoved them deep into her small ear canals. Tangtang was completely losing control now, forced to breathe solely through her mouth, gasping for air. The sensory deprivation was just the beginning. Finally, I grabbed the latex hood and dangled it before her eyes. I pulled the straps wide, threaded her long ponytails through, and pulled the mask down over her head. "Mmph... mmph... ungh... ungh..." Tangtang was truly terrified now. Even though I’d left a hole in the hood for the spreader, having her face completely encased in latex, her ears muffled, and her vision restricted sent her into a panic. She clawed at the air, her movements erratic. I wanted to break her spirit through psychological torture. When she reached for the zipper on the back of the hood, I grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed. I leaned down, pressing my chest against her soft body, my erection sliding against her inner thigh. I leaned in close to her ear, whispering through the latex: "Tangtang, I’m only giving you this last chance because you’re so cute. I’ll ask you one more time: will you sign the agreement, or do you want to find out what it’s like to be a human pet for the rest of your life?" 请提供您需要翻译的原文，我将立即为您进行专业化处理。 “Mmm, mmm, mmm… mmm, mmm, mmm…” As the rope tightened, I could clearly feel the body I held in my arms—naked and petite—its temperature gradually rising. After all, I’d already stuffed a vibrating egg into her tender pussy. Finally, I pulled the ancient god’s rope as tight as possible, securely trapping the vibrating egg inside her, and fully securing it to the rope around her lower back. With the ropes crisscrossing, I effectively tied a thong-shaped rope garment around her tiny buttocks. Since her upper body was already bound using a technique similar to a European-style straight-arm bind, I didn’t completely untie it to reinforce it; instead, I gripped her wrists and forcibly pushed them upward, maintaining the same “Behind-the-Back Guanyin” bondage pose as my cousin beside her. I forced her very restless little hands—which were wriggling wildly and constantly trying to scratch the back of my hand—to press their fingers together and keep them pressed inward. I took a length of thin rope to tie her thumbs together, then pulled out some silver-gray tape and wrapped it all the way up along her taut knuckles, eventually wrapping and sealing her palms exceptionally tightly as well… 　　 　　“Relax a little, Tangtang. I just took off your panties and white stockings and slipped a little toy into your tender little pussy—that was to help you gradually adjust mentally. Now I’m going to help you gradually adjust mentally. This sense of shame after being stripped bare will gradually unleash your true nature. After all, I believe that every sweet, soft girl in the world has an extremely contrasting side deep down…” I checked her small hands, which were now completely wrapped up—there was no room for them to move. Even through the layers of tape, I could barely make out the slightest twitch of her fingers. Once again, I pushed Tangtang—who was now completely naked yet tightly bound from head to toe— pushed her back onto the sofa once more, positioning her face-up across my lap, and pressed my elbow firmly against her waist. Ignoring her tiny feet—which kept lifting their heels in an attempt to kick me—I reached into the prop box in the lower drawer and pulled out a large anal plug, aiming it at her buttocks, which had already been spread apart by the ropes. I slowly parted her buttocks along the crease, and when her pink anus was slightly exposed, I pushed the pink metal butt plug slowly into her anus, just as I had done with the vibrating egg earlier… 　　 　　“Mmm… mmm… mmm!! Mmm… mmm… Mmm-hmm!!” Tangtang’s struggles and convulsions immediately became more frantic, and her eyes betrayed an unprecedented sense of terror. After all, given her age and experience, she’d likely never seen something like a butt plug before. Moreover, at that moment, my actions had almost completely blocked both her urethra and anus, I watched with glee as her little butt wriggled constantly beneath my elbow, even though those two plump, white buttocks were contracting with all their might, she ultimately couldn’t prevent me from pushing the butt plug all the way in, pressing it firmly against her sphincter. By the time I’d fully inserted it, I could feel a rock-hard texture just by squeezing her buttocks from the outside, At that moment, I couldn’t help but recall my own situation earlier when Jiajia and I were tied to chairs and had anal plugs inserted—that sensation of penetration from behind, accompanied by intense stinging and swelling, with the engorgement pressing all the way up to my navel. It still sends a chill down my spine to this day, and the pain and shame that the petite Tangtang was enduring—given her physical build—was naturally far more intense than what I had experienced before… “Relax, relax. It’s just part of the game. It’s not like it’s going to really tear your little butt apart—we’ll take it out sooner or later, hehe… Rejecting the exposure of shame and gradually shutting out your senses—that’s the true path to liberating your true nature. Come on, sweetie, set an example for your good sister here. You look a little uncomfortable with that dazed expression…” After fully inserting the anal plug, I gave Tangtang’s little butt a few hard slaps and shoved her aside. Then I yanked Sasa over from nearby. Sasa could only pout her little mouth—which had a rubber ball stuffed inside—and let out two feeble grunts at me. Then I first wrapped her hands—which she’d already held in the “rear-facing Guanyin” position with all ten fingers pressed together—tightly with duct tape, sealing them shut. She let me rip her clothes off along with the scissors and tie her into a position almost identical to Tangtang’s. amidst a series of labored, drawn-out groans, she endured as I forced the anal plug all the way inside… 　　 　　“Phew, that wore me out. Finally done, hee hee hee… Don’t give me that look, Tangtang. You’d never get a chance like this at school… You’re best friends—you should have some ‘couple vibes’…” Watching my second-stage masterpiece gradually take shape, I clapped my hands excitedly and cheered, then grabbed my phone and started snapping photo after photo of the two young beauties curled up on the couch. Seeing Tangtang still glaring at me with a resentful look while constantly dodging the camera, I reached out with a smile, pinching her cheeks to force her head back into position, However, this meticulous binding from head to toe didn’t quite showcase the flexibility their bodies should have, and I couldn’t help but recall that earth-shattering twist earlier in the neighborhood—when I’d successfully broken free from the ropes, subdued He Jiajia by tying her up in reverse, gagged her, draped a windbreaker over her, and brought her home to take complete control—that stunning reversal. When I forcibly carried her back, that little queen of contrasts, so skilled at disguise, had also been subdued by me in this head-to-toe binding position, and so a novel and daring idea resurfaced in my mind once again… “Sasa, do you remember what I told you before… how those two older sisters treated me before? It was only because they were too confident and insisted on taking me out that they gave me the chance. Now I’m giving that same chance to you two sisters. But with your little arms and legs, I doubt you’ll be able to subdue me—though you might just have a chance of calling for help from passersby… And you, Tangtang—aren’t you always thinking about calling the police to arrest me? “Let’s have some fun now…” When she heard me, Tangtang still glared at me angrily, though a hint of confusion flickered across her big, watery eyes. For a moment, she didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, but Sasa caught on quickly, Her eyes immediately betrayed a deep sense of unease and shame. After all, ever since we signed the contract, Sasa had developed an instinctive obedience toward me, and she knew full well that even if I took the two of them out of here, the chances of them being successfully rescued were minuscule, and she certainly wouldn’t be willing to reveal her secret on her own. After a few seconds of hesitation, her cheeks flushed red as she looked at me with a plaintive expression once more, muttering “Wuuu” and shaking her head repeatedly… 　　 　　However, as hostages, they naturally had no right to refuse or choose. Finally, amid Sasa’s gaze of shame and resistance and Tangtang’s expression—still filled with grief and indignation, yet also puzzled and defiant— I took out two large black medical masks and fastened them over their little faces. Since each of their mouths was stuffed with a large elastic grip ball, a round bulge was clearly visible even through the black masks. In the past, I would never have taken this risk, but now I’m getting bolder and bolder, and I actually felt that such suggestive elements would greatly heighten the excitement. So I simply pulled the masks up to cover their nostrils, from which hot breath kept escaping, and then... I took out two brand-new trench coats—the very ones that had come in handy when I successfully moved the three beautiful girls outdoors toward the end of summer break— I then forcibly straightened them both up, clutching their slender waists tightly, and draped the two trench coats over their shoulders—one on the left, one on the right—buttoning them all the way up from the collar to the hem… 　　 　　At this point, the disguise I’d envisioned had been largely achieved. Beneath the trench coats, the two beautiful girls were completely naked, bound tightly from head to toe with ropes, and both were forcibly fitted with a series of depraved and humiliating criminal devices—anal plugs, vibrating eggs, nipple clamps, and more— and their little mouths were gagged with special grip balls, regardless of the pain or their endurance limits. However, from the outside, they looked like nothing more than two middle school girls with colds, wearing masks and walking a bit unsteadily—it was impossible to even tell their exact ages. The trench coats I bought for them were originally designed to be and under normal circumstances, the long style would fit their sizes and completely cover their knees. But I deliberately bought adult women’s sizes. Since they were schoolgirls to begin with, these long trench coats covered their ankles almost entirely, At the time, as they struggled to push the cart forward—except for the occasional glimpse of the laces at their ankles when they were forced to stand on tiptoe, hop, and wriggle their way forward—there was virtually no risk of exposure. Yet for me at that moment, this faintly present risk actually added a touch of perverse pleasure… 　　 　　My other hand wasn’t idle either; it slowly moved upward along her fair, delicate abdomen, then, with precise movements, slipped my fingers through the two small holes I’d deliberately cut into her apron to grasp her breasts and begin gently kneading them. My little cousin was no longer the innocent, adorable little girl who’d first come to visit me that summer—though she remained pure at heart, but after my “transformation” today, her physical responses and sexual maturity naturally far exceeded those of her peers. After just a few strokes from me, her soft panting took on a seductive tremor, and her fair breasts quickly grew firm and swollen. As I squeezed them, they provided my palms with a full, springy sensation, At that moment, this eerie yet suggestive atmosphere instantly made my blood boil, and without even realizing it, I reached for the switch, reactivating the vibrators embedded in Tangtang’s nipples and tender slit, and I also increased the frequency of the electric shock collar. Under the influence of these devices, Tangtang could only lean against my feet, convulsing and writhing in an extremely bizarre manner. Her elbows—along with her knees, which were forced to remain parallel—began to rub back and forth incessantly across the floor. As saliva continued to drip from her mouth, she kept letting out soft moans that sounded even stranger than my cousin’s and carried a hint of reluctance, For a moment, the atmosphere in the entire kitchen—mingled with the aroma of the food—was suddenly filled with a lewd scent that utterly intoxicated me… “Mmm, mmm, mmm… mmm, mmm!! No… mmm, mmm, mmm…” Perhaps because Tangtang simply couldn’t bear the shocks from the electric collar and the vibrations from the vibrating egg and other small toys, even without me tugging on the collar to pull her along, she actually wriggled forward on her own by twisting her elbows and knees. But because she was wearing the hood, she couldn’t see what was ahead at all, so she soon slammed into my cousin’s calf with a thud. My cousin, who had been nestled in my arms, was sensually caressing my fingers—and had even begun to subtly probe her own private parts— She immediately looked down and saw Tangtang—her kind-hearted cousin, whose voice was hoarse and who was constantly drooling, looking utterly listless and weak—and a hint of sorrow flashed once more in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she bit her lip and cautiously pleaded, “Brother… Oh no, Master… Master… Please, can’t you stop doing this to Tangtang? She’s still so young, and… and… she’s not used to these things… You could untie her mouth and ask her if she’s willing to sign a contract with you… I… I… I really can’t bear to see this…” 　　 　　Hearing my cousin’s soft, adorable plea and seeing her well-behaved, gentle demeanor, a wave of warmth naturally welled up in my heart. I really wanted to pull her into my arms to comfort her and grant her request. However, I was currently in the process of establishing my authority, and Tangtang hadn’t fully submitted yet, so I had no choice but to steel my resolve. Suddenly, I scooped her up in my arms, carried her out of the kitchen, and then tossed her onto the couch. As my cousin looked on in surprise, I rubbed my hands together, unable to hide my lecherous grin, yet spoke in a stern tone: “ As my slave, you have absolutely no right to tell me what to do. Besides, if you truly care about Tangtang, you should cooperate with me to make her submit as soon as possible. And what’s more, you just called me ‘brother’ instead of ‘Master’? Although I still treat you like a younger sister, during this game over the next few days, we must be clear about our relationship… I was actually planning to go easy on you today, but now it seems I’ll have to give you a little punishment. Since you care so much about Tangtang, why don’t you experience the same situation she’s in?” No sooner had the words left my mouth than—while my cousin was still too stunned to react, her eyes brimming with tears that made her look both utterly shocked and pitiful—I pulled out another set of my prized K9 outfit from the drawer next to the coffee table, then, without a word, I grabbed her arm and wrapped the leather around it… “Waaah… waaah… Don’t do this, big brother. I was wrong, I was wrong. Please… please…” Seeing this, my poor cousin immediately pouted and pleaded with me. However, this little beauty—who had already developed an instinctive obedience toward me—didn’t struggle too much against my grip; she merely wriggled her body, constantly trying to dodge. So I had no choice but to steel my resolve for the moment, just as I’d done with Tangtang moments before, wrapping her limbs separately in leather and securing them front and back with straps. Then I wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, fitted her with the same hollow-ring gag as Tangtang’s, and lifted her off the sofa, placing her side by side with Tangtang… … “Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm… mmm-mmm-mmm…” My cousin could only look at me with a face full of grievance, her little butt wiggling from side to side as she She moved slowly, and as she did, her waist kept bumping into Tangtang’s little bottom beside her—though Tangtang was blindfolded. In fact, the prolonged sensory deprivation caused by wearing a nose plug and earplugs had already made Tangtang as skittish as a startled bird. When my cousin bumped into her, she twisted her little waist in sheer terror, trying to dodge in the opposite direction. She struggled, but because her neck was restrained by a collar, she couldn’t move very far. Seeing her somewhat comical yet adorable appearance, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. So I leaned down, pressed my hand against the back of her neck, and then unzipped the hood… 　　 　　Once the zipper was open, poor Tangtang finally regained her sight. Her big eyes, like black grapes, were now filled with bewilderment and fear, as well as the utter exhaustion brought on by prolonged difficulty breathing, However, following the direction of my cousin’s impact, when she turned her head and saw that my cousin was now tied up in the exact same position as her, her emotions flared up again, and then she… Disregarding the possibility of me putting the hood back on her—or even the sub-zero temperatures and restricted breathing—her gaze, though not as resolute as before, was still filled with sorrow as she and her cousin let out a series of muffled, indistinct “woo-woo” protests directed at me… 　　 　　“What a stubborn little brat. Even in this state, you still have the energy to worry about your best friend… Since you two are so close, you’ll naturally share both the good times and the bad. I’ve got a new toy I’d love to try out on you both…” Seeing the two of them there, their butts sticking out and their elbows tucked in—such a cute pose—a new, thrilling idea suddenly flashed through my mind. so I grabbed their shoulders and forcibly pushed them to the ground. Since the four of them had already been in a position with their limbs folded, after being pushed down, they were forced to remain lying on their sides, their elbows and knees wriggling futilely in midair, facing directly toward me, exposing their pale, delicate navels and waists, as well as their shapely, curvaceous chests—all laid bare in a pose that left their breasts fully exposed. Combined with their wrists still wriggling in vain, they looked just like little kittens sleeping in… 　　 　　“Oh my, this is lovely. This restraint was originally designed to bind you in a K9 dog-style position, but now it allows you to draw a little of the cuteness a kitten should have from your dog-like servility… Be good, that’s it, don’t move around—show me your little bellies and nipples, okay…” Watching the two of them, helpless yet adorable as they exposed their bellies and wriggled their limbs in vain, I quickly pulled out my phone and took close-up shots from several high-definition angles, then rummaged through the drawer and pulled out the brand-new nipple clamps I’d bought online earlier. Unlike ordinary nipple clamps, these were made entirely of solid metal. The part that secures the wearer’s nipples is a hollow iron ring, and around the ring are nuts that can be rotated to adjust the size, This means the intensity and tightness of the pressure on the nipples can be fully adjusted from four directions. Below the ring, a solid metal ball is connected by a chain, allowing for continuous tugging and pulling on the wearer’s breasts… “Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm… mmm, mmm, mmm…” The various devices I’d been using over the past few days had already terrified the two young girls. When they saw me slowly lean forward and kick the iron ring toward them, they immediately looked at me, whimpering and shaking their heads repeatedly, while their elbows and knees trembled with increasing uncontrollability, but at that moment, they really looked just like chubby-bellied cats that had eaten too much to roll over in time. The tough leather, tightly wrapped around and securing their elbows and knees, made it impossible for them to roll over and dodge. So I picked up Sasa, who was closest to me, first, pretending to pat her little head comfortingly before making her maintain the position with her belly exposed. Then I pressed this pair of hollow iron rings directly onto her nipples. The hollow rings clamped her breasts halfway in, like a tightening spell. Of course, the key to these specially designed nipple clamps lies in the four nuts. Under my cousin’s terrified gaze, I began to adjust and tighten the four nuts fully. Since the four nuts were already positioned close together, so even when there was still some slack on one side, the most sensitive, tender flesh at the nipple tip would be fully compressed toward the areola, causing the wearer little stinging pain. The key is that the metal ring tightened by the very last nut already constricts the front of the nipple extremely tightly, leaving it with nowhere to escape from the pressure exerted by the other three tightened nuts. The nipple already had almost no room to relax, so as I began to tighten the final nut, I could clearly see that with each turn of the screw—under the combined pressure of all four nuts—the tightly squeezed nipple would bulge outward slightly, like a balloon about to burst… 　　“Mmm-hmm-hmm… Mmm-mmm-mmm! It hurts… Mmm-mmm-mmm!!” At this point, my adorable cousin could no longer bear it. Her waist immediately began to twitch and writhe strangely, and she frantically kept jabbing her knees against my elbows. From her mouth, which was fitted with a mouth gag, a series of hoarse, broken screams and pleas instantly poured out. I had been so completely absorbed in the moment that her pitiful cries startled me. Only then did I notice that my poor cousin’s shoulders were twitching uncontrollably from the excruciating pain, and her rosy nipples, squeezed simultaneously by the four nuts, were stretched to their limit. On the verge of bursting through her delicate skin, they had already been forced to bleed slightly. Seeing this, I hurriedly stopped tightening the nuts, after all, given my cousin’s age, continuing to tighten them might cause irreversible damage to her cute little nipples. To demonstrate my brotherly compassion, I even went out of my way to loosen the nuts a few turns at the end… For about ten minutes, I struggled in a haze. Although I had touched them repeatedly, the way these girls’ feet were crossed—intertwining their scents and tastes—made it impossible to distinguish one from the other. Under the influence of the drug-induced conditioned reflexes, my brain’s reward feedback from Xu Yuyou and Yue Zhuxing’s feet was completely scrambled by the clashing, bizarre odors. I couldn't accurately identify whose feet were whose through smell or taste alone. Suddenly, the livestream moderator’s urging rang in my ears again. In a panic, I jerked my head and bit down on a toe, unable to tell which girl it belonged to. Even though the toe curled tightly against my tongue as if trying to flee from the ticklish sensation, it offered no clear information. As the seconds ticked away, memories of the games Yue Zhuxing and I played during our childhood flashed through my mind. A bold, novel idea surfaced: the Morse code game. It dated back to when I was eleven, watching a spy movie with a young Yue Zhuxing. The protagonist used Morse code to pass secret signals, which fascinated us. We spent ages memorizing the dots and dashes for every letter, using them to pass notes in class. It was a sweet, private memory between us—and now, it had become the only way for us to connect in our state of total degradation and hopelessness. I forced myself to calm down and straightened my torso, though my hands remained bound behind my back. Tapping out Morse code with just my lips and tongue was nearly impossible. Since my cock was fully engorged, the glans, thrusting forward, could just reach the feet below. Following the rules of Morse code, I decided that a short, light tap of the glans against the sole would be a "dot," and pressing the entire length of my cock against the heel and dragging it slowly across the arch for a few seconds would be a "dash." I knelt there, rhythmically thrusting and sliding against each pair of soles, tapping out a specific code—a secret language only Yue Zhuxing and I shared. As for Xu Yuyou, while she didn't know the code and dared not scream, the rhythm and frequency of her muffled whimpers were distinct enough to tell them apart. Time was running out. Every touch of my glans against their soft, pale soles sent a jolt of tension through my body, the urge to ejaculate surging in my mind. But I knew that if I lost control now, my flaccid glans would be unable to transmit the code. I had to rely on instinct, spelling out Yue Zhuxing’s surname through the Morse signals. I extended and retracted my cock, grinding slowly from her heel across the arch, then flicking upward to tap a few times near her toes. I trusted that her hypersensitive soles could feel the details of my movements. Sure enough, when I touched an exceptionally smooth, cool sole, her toes curled and straightened five times in quick succession. I had my answer. I shifted my knees, swinging my cock to strike the next sole. No reaction. I moved to the other side. As I swung my cock down, my numb glans felt the middle toe of the foot beneath me—it was noticeably longer. Then, as I slid my knee forward, I heard a long, raspy, muffled moan, as if she were being choked. The conditioned reflex formed from my forced intimacy with Xu Yuyou was instantly triggered. "Number 3, left foot is Yue Zhuxing’s. Number 4, right foot is Xu Yuyou’s... huff, huff..." My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the ground, exhausted. If I kept stimulating them with my cock, I would surely end up ejaculating on their soles. The man standing beside me paused for a few seconds, then ripped off my blindfold. As the cloth fell, my eyes locked with Yue Zhuxing’s, who was trembling as she turned her head. On the platform, five girls were kneeling in a row, hands bound behind their backs, mouths gagged, feet facing upward toward me. Gasping for air, I glanced at the side screen; my performance had clearly sent the chat into a frenzy, with many accusing me of cheating. The moderator, satisfied with the massive traffic, patted my shoulder with a grin before plunging a syringe of anesthetic into my neck. As the drug took effect, my vision blurred. In my final second of consciousness, I saw masked men untying the girls. Xu Yuyou and Yue Zhuxing, the focus of the show, were hoisted roughly onto shoulders and carried into a secluded cell. I tried to scream their names—the physiological dependence formed during the brainwashing made me crave their presence, their touch—but before I could utter a word, I slumped to the floor, unconscious. When I regained consciousness, the second, even more insane livestream began. The title on the screen made my blood run cold: "Childhood Sweetheart vs. The Newcomer, Part 2: Cock-as-a-Pen, 'Pictionary' on the Soles, 50 Rounds. Ejaculation Equals Defeat..." The set had changed. In the center of the room was a custom-made steel bed covered in black leather. Poor Xu Yuyou and Yue Zhuxing were strapped down, side-by-side, heads inward and feet outward. Their hands were tied to anchors at the corners of the bed, their torsos and waists secured by nylon ropes and leather straps, strictly limiting their movement. Their legs were spread, calves hanging off the edge of the bed, ankles locked in U-shaped clamps. Four alluring Greek-style feet were suspended in mid-air, soles facing up. Blue and red nail polish shimmered under the studio lights. After two and a half weeks of care, the eight soles were perfectly white and smooth, tilted upward toward the camera. They were gagged with ball gags and cloth, not just to keep them quiet, but to force them to respond to the "Pictionary" game through muffled moans, preventing them from signaling me directly. I was positioned at the bedside, forced into a kneeling position. My knees were locked to the mattress, and my calves were bound with nylon rope to prevent me from standing. My hands were tied behind my back, and a special belt held my waist, keeping me in a fixed kneel—neither able to lie down nor sit up. My crotch was positioned exactly ten centimeters from the four suspended feet. My cock, already fully engorged from the sight of the soles and the drug-induced conditioning, leaked a trickle of pre-cum that glistened under the lights, hungrily arching toward the feet above. The moderator, surnamed Sun, appeared again. He held a deck of white cards and explained the rules: 50 cards, each with a word. He would show me a card, and I had to use my glans to "write" the word on one of the four soles within the time limit. The girls would have to answer using muffled moans. To make it easier for them, they were given three options (A, B, and C) for each word, and the number of muffled moans would correspond to the correct option. Guessing correctly meant passing; guessing wrong counted as a failure, leading to cumulative punishment. The catch: I had to maintain a state of "chastity"—if I ejaculated, I would be disqualified and subjected to "edging" torture. If I missed more than 10 out of 50, I would lose entirely. It was an impossible task, but we had no choice. The man smiled, checked the strap of my gag, and slowly flipped over the first card. It read "Apple." Squinting, I chose Yue Zhuxing’s right sole—the one I knew best. The conditioned reflex triggered an immediate surge of pre-cum the moment my glans touched her skin. Yue Zhuxing let out a short, muffled "mmph," her blue-tipped toes curling in agony and pleasure. The warmth and softness against my glans sent a jolt of electricity through my urethra. I forced myself to hold back, tightening my muscles as I began to trace a circle on her sole, then pulled a vertical line upward. My glans glided over her skin, creating a bizarre, precise pleasure as I sketched the outline of an apple. I was aiming for the most sensitive, delicate part of her sole; every ridge and depression sent precise friction signals back to my glans. I couldn't see how they were choosing, only the screen above them switching to the A-B-C options. Yue Zhuxing lifted her chin slightly and let out a long, "Mmm~," then let her head fall back down. The moderator’s voice rang out: "Question 1, 'Apple,' correct. Easier than I thought, ha ha..." The chat exploded with insults like "The first man to write with his cock," and I could only hang my head in shame.