Latex doll maker

——One of them was a sexy, mature, tall and hot succubus, the other a saintess dressed in white latex, with soft blonde hair, a harmonious blend of purity and seduction. Either one alone could drive countless people wild, and even with the added identity of a club owner, the surrounding crowd couldn't help but be stirred, choosing to take a risk. It's just a glance, after all. As the club owner, they wouldn't target me for something like this, right? At worst, I'll be tied up once, which would be worth it. "Little girl, what are you pretending for in front of me..." Yelena, however, didn't buy it. Instead, she deliberately leaned closer to Rebecca's ear and whispered with a playful laugh, "People who come to a club aren't afraid of being seen? No matter how embarrassing it is, you can endure it... maybe you're secretly enjoying it right now?" She deliberately lowered her voice, turning the words into a secret between them, but didn't give anyone a chance to react. She brought a gag and pressed it against the soft lips. "Ah~" "Ah..." Rebecca frowned, hesitated for a moment, and then chose to comply, opening her mouth obediently to receive the white latex gag. She let the other party tighten the straps until there was no gap between her lips and the latex. "Mmm, the size is just right." Yelena held Rebecca's shoulders, turning her to face herself to check if the gag was the right size. "The size of a gag is also an art. Too big is unsightly, too small is useless. For someone like you, to be able to just barely cover it with your lips, with the corners of your mouth perfectly sealed against the latex, that's what looks alluring." She paused, her gaze sweeping down from top to bottom without any pretense, and deliberately said: "Especially for a saintess like you, with delicate features and a touch of playful mischief, you naturally look a bit pitiable when wearing a gag. It fits the saintess theme perfectly." ...You know it's a theme too? Rebecca was furious at being described, but now she couldn't speak and didn't dare to truly defy the other party. She could only glare resentfully at that half-smiling face. If looks could kill, she would have beaten Yelena to a pulp long ago. Yelena remained unfazed. She even took out a blindfold and dangled it in front of Rebecca. "With those terrifying eyes, Miss Saintess almost purified me, a succubus. That won't do. It's safer to wear a blindfold~" She raised her hands, unceremoniously pinched the sides of the blindfold, and pressed it onto Rebecca's eyes. Her ten slender, well-proportioned fingers then gently moved forward, weaving through strands of golden hair, skillfully fastening the ties and adjusting the tightness. "Miss Saintess can't see now, so let me help you interpret." Yelena pulled at the edges of the blindfold, smoothing out any wrinkles, and explained: "This blindfold Miss Saintess is wearing was specially designed for this. Structurally, it seems to be just an ordinary blindfold, with only some reinforcement on the edges of the white latex. The purpose is to reduce the feeling of restraint and create an atmosphere of you being in distress." She spoke each word clearly, at a steady pace, explaining the design concept of the entire outfit: "From head to toe, everything you're wearing deliberately blurs the line between BDSM gear and normal accessories. The handcuffs are so intricate to balance the sexiness of the latex suit. In other words, except for someone with your looks, others might not look as good in this outfit. Of course, they wouldn't look bad either." She's explaining... Why is she explaining? Rebecca was actually a little confused, curious why the other party was telling her all this. Yelena seemed to guess her thoughts and chuckled softly, slowly saying, "Because, Miss Saintess, you're probably going to be trapped here for a while. If I don't tell you these things, you might not know how alluring you look when you're eventually rescued." Wait a minute, trapped here for a while?! Rebecca immediately reacted, frantically trying to speak and ask, but the gag turned her desperate attempts into helpless moans: "Mmm... Mmm-hmm!?" "Mmm, good girl." In the morning, just after waking up and finishing her ablutions, Ellen sat on the floor, stroking her beloved latex pet, which was nuzzling her affectionately. She cooed, "My latex puppy lasted all night, but Master has to go out all day today. You need to be good and obedient when you're home alone~" Today, she was dressed in a relatively cute ensemble: thigh-high socks, a JK miniskirt, and a modest long-sleeved JK uniform. The outfit accentuated her alluring figure without being overly ostentatious, striking a perfect balance. In contrast, Rebecca's situation was far more "dire." "Mmm... mmmph...!" Now bound in a full set of K9 restraints, she had no choice but to obediently rub against her master's palm, attempting to please her with whimpers and other actions. "Obey, obey." Ellen's smile was genuine as she hugged her cute latex puppy and began to grope her, seemingly reveling in the feel of the latex. She had wanted a pet for a long time, but due to her work schedule, she had no time to accompany it and had to give up on the idea. "Alright, if I stay any longer, Master will be late. You must be good, okay?" After a moment of intimacy with her dog, Ellen stood up, patted Rebecca's head, and gave her final instructions: "There's an emergency communicator next to the sofa. Press that big red button with your arm, and my phone will receive a signal. You can only use it for truly urgent matters." "Mmmph..." Rebecca listened intently to information regarding her own safety, afraid of missing even a single word. This also served as indirect proof that Ellen, as a professional latex doll maker, was indeed experienced and capable of handling all aspects of a situation with meticulous care, leaving no loose ends. "Then Master is leaving~" Seeing Rebecca nod seriously, Ellen finally felt at ease. She slipped on a pair of exquisite round-toed shoes and left the new house they had moved into just a few days prior. "What's the big deal? I've been exposed to slime erosion, and I'm a Switch anyway. Being restrained is commonplace for me. You're worrying too much." Yelena responded calmly and strategically, showing no signs of panic. "Mmm~ In that case, why don't we turn our cute Switch boss into a pet first?" Slime smiled charmingly, casually extending an arm. The boundary of her limb shifted, gradually transforming into a latex pet suit with an opening in the back. She then broke contact and reformed her hand into a complete five-fingered appendage. "This pet suit is connected to me and under my control. As long as you get inside yourself, the opening in the back will close." She got straight to the point, clearly accustomed to such situations and even more accustomed to taking the lead. However, she couldn't have anticipated that Yelena, who was essentially Ellen, had no psychological burden. She merely playfully squeezed Slime's waist, feigning a pout, and stood up, walking towards the pet suit. "This level of restraint won't satisfy me, though?" Without regard for Slime's reaction, Yelena calmly knelt on the floor, then bent one elbow, allowing her arm to slide into the latex embrace. Since the pet suit was essentially a part of Slime's body, it stood firm on the ground, not at all like soft latex, but more like a metal object, making it easy for one to put on alone. "It's my first time wearing a pet suit like this..." Yelena murmured softly, adjusting her balance and guiding her calf towards her thigh. She fumbled for the entrance of the pet suit, experiencing the sensation of latex enveloping her body. Suddenly, she realized that the latex was a bit loose, likely intentionally widened to make it easier for her to put on. "~" "You can surely guess what that means. At least, in my hands, this effect means I can do whatever I want with your body." Without missing a beat, she pressed her advantage, conjuring another single-handed glove from the void. She seized Allen's wrist, twisting her arm behind her back. "Master, you're bullying me again...!" Allen's brows furrowed, her voice thick with grievance, but entirely devoid of anger. She immediately understood what such restraints, capable of independent action and taking over bodily control, meant to a seasoned trainer in their agency. For a rope master, to force a slave into a position with legs folded and knees splayed outwards, they would first have to bind the knees with rope, find leverage, isolate a single strand, and pull the legs apart. But with these restraints, it would only take a thought from the trainer, and the slave would obediently assume the desired pose, whether she wanted to or not. "When I took you on as my apprentice, partly because you were genuinely adorable – you could even say it was love at first sight – and partly... well, I saw that you were very intelligent. So intelligent that a single hint was enough for you to grasp things." Rebecca habitually licked her lips, widening the opening of the custom-made latex single-handed glove for Allen, and forcefully pulled it onto her slender forearm. She repeated the process, first stretching the opening wider, pulling it upwards, then releasing her hands and using the latex's inherent elasticity to secure it in place, inching her way towards the upper arm. Once it reached its target, encasing almost the entire arm, she then grasped the very tip of the glove. This glove wasn't of the traditional design secured with X-shaped straps. Instead, it was a pull-on type. After securing the glove, she pulled at the collar, slipping it over the head to "swallow" both arms, covering everything from the collarbone down, leaving the wearer with no possibility of escape. The advantage of this design was its absolute, tight restraint. Allen visibly struggled after being bound, her elbows writhing beneath the latex, but she was destined to be unable to break through this covering. "I know, I know~ The correct way to put it on is to put it over your head first, and then stick your hands in... But this glove isn't designed that way. It doesn't have an opening at the bottom, only a collar. It's made especially for you." Rebecca panted, chuckling as she slapped Allen's buttocks, eliciting both pained whimpers and wriggling struggles, a reaction that was quite endearing. The relationship between the master and apprentice had always been delicate. From the beginning, they were both master and servant, and teacher and student, but neither had ever truly broken through that veil. "Little rabbit, where do you think you can run now?" "The slime body is quite convenient..." Yelena mumbled, cooperatively raising her already restrained hands, folded and secured, as she watched with curiosity how the tentacles worked in unison, prying open the leather restraints and slowly fitting them onto her arms. The tentacles were nimble, and their method of applying force was unusual. In the blink of an eye, one of Yelena's arms was completely encased in leather. Then, several straps were tightened, cinching the leather further. The latex pet suit was already form-fitting. With this pulling and tugging, the leather tightened instantly, pressing into the soft flesh of her arm so deeply that indentations were visible, stark against the latex. Of course, Yelena was protected and felt no pain, but the intense sense of restriction made her uncomfortable. She tried to struggle a few times. The outcome was predictable. Her strength was no match for the limits of the latex and leather. Her arms merely swung back and forth, looking less like a struggle and more like a playful tantrum. The enduring appeal of pet restraints lay in their ability to forcibly alter a slave's demeanor, making them resemble a pet, utterly adorable. For most Doms, capturing a cute little slave to keep as a pet, to tease when bored, or to watch their helpless struggles, was undoubtedly one of their desires. "Is this tightness about right for Miss Yelena?" The slime manipulated its tentacles, locking the straps together. Even the red lacing was tied in a knot, clearly intended to discourage any thought of resistance. "Huuu~ As expected, strict restraint is exhausting. Even with my flexible tentacles, I've only managed one piece so far..." She let out a deliberately weary sigh. The gel-like tentacles then coiled around another set of restraints, reaching for Yelena's other arm. The process repeated, and soon both her hands were fully bound. At this point, Yelena had no possibility of breaking free on her own. She obediently lowered herself, resting on all fours, to facilitate the attachment of the leg restraints. Her figure was exquisite. As she lowered herself, using her elbows and knees as points of support, her waist naturally curved downwards, making the inward arc even more fatally alluring. It flowed seamlessly into her pert buttocks, a view that was completely unobstructed from her neck down. Even a "seasoned slave handler" like the slime was affected. Its gaze remained fixed on Yelena's latex-clad body, which shimmered slightly under the light. A primal urge arose, a desire to finish the restraint immediately, take her home, and play with her thoroughly. Fortunately, it managed to suppress its inner desires and did not prematurely end the game. It guided the tentacles to position the restraints beside her thighs.

Breathing... hazy... dark... silent... Vigrid felt as if only these four existences remained in her world. Or rather, there were many other existences around her, like Allen, but she couldn't sense them. The latex vacuum bed, taut against her skin and pressing down on her entire body, rendered her completely immobile. Only occasional, faint struggles proved that this black, sensuous latex effigy was a living being. Earplugs, devoid of any broadcast function, and severely restricted vision stole her voice and sight. Before entering the vacuum bed, she hadn't even managed to get a clear look at the prop that was about to restrain her. "So tight... I can't move at all, and I can't feel anything, not even his voice..." Ever since the abrupt cessation of the electrical current, Vigrid had gradually lost her sense of time, immersed in a completely unknown environment. Due to her fondness for detective novels, she could roughly estimate how many minutes had passed. However, the pain and the [unspeakable] still raged within her, making her heart rate the most unreliable counter. And even if her heart rate were steady, what would that matter? After a day, two days, a week, or even a month, the error in heart rate timing would only grow. Vigrid had no idea how long she would be confined, and even if her 'master' wanted to tell her, it would be useless. This was probably the true torment of this method of restraint. Your master could offer no sense of security. In extreme situations, you wouldn't even be able to detect if your master was caressing you. The filling of the latex doll was merely stuffing. Her master's true affection wasn't for the component inside the 'doll' but for the "latex doll" itself, dark and smooth. Similar thoughts filled Vigrid with despair. She began to regret her decision, yet she knew all too well that she no longer had the right to retract it. Within the double confinement of the latex suit and the vacuum bed, absolute helplessness slowly seeped into her flesh, until it filled her entire being. At this moment, Allen sat on the floor, hugging his knees wrapped in white stockings, which revealed a faint pinkish hue of his skin. He watched the captivating scene before him with keen interest. In his gaze, the stuffing he had personally sealed within the latex writhed continuously. Helpless shoulder blades and knees rose and contorted, only to fail repeatedly, pulled back into place by the vacuum bed. He had deactivated all active props on Vigrid half an hour ago, leaving her in a state of no immediate torment. This might seem like a master's merciful indulgence towards his plaything, but it was, in fact, a seasoned training method. Imagine: when you lose your sight, hearing, ability to speak, and even your tactile perception of the outside world is completely obscured, what would happen to you? It would be an experience of extreme despair, as if you had been stripped from this world. Everything that existed would become irrelevant to you, and your thoughts and emotions would become inconsequential matters that no one cared about. This meant you would no longer feel like a living person, but rather a pure object, indistinguishable from a bed, a chair, or a cup if not for your master's attention. To resist this thought, Vigrid could only choose to struggle intermittently. Although it drained her energy, it at least allowed her to recognize herself as a person. However, struggles within the latex vacuum bed were destined to be futile. Their only purpose might be to please the master witnessing it all. Even she herself didn't know how long she could hold on. Frankly, if Vigrid hadn't requested these things herself, Allen wouldn't have resorted to such severe methods to create a latex doll. He hadn't withheld opportunities to back out. In fact, he had asked several times if she wanted to end the game. But Vigrid had insisted, so he had complied. "Should I record a video... No, better not. It feels a bit too unscrupulous." After another ten minutes or so, Allen muttered to himself, stood up, and walked towards the box where various props were stored. He took out a fascia gun.

After some thought, the restraint content in this entire maid cafe chapter isn't that extensive, so after this chapter concludes, the next one will directly transition into the main story of creating latex dolls: the next arc involves infiltrating a tech company to steal intelligence, and the frequency of restraint content will be very high. "You know, sometimes looser restraints can make someone more flustered." The restraints Malena chose were very simple, consisting of a pair of kneeling devices and a few pairs of shackles. They didn't spend much time at all before completing the entire set of equipment. Among these restraints, the kneeling devices, primarily made of metal and leather, were responsible for limiting mobility. They prevented Ellen from maintaining a standing posture because her toes were forced into an extreme position, similar to ballet pointe shoes, and her overall stability was also compromised. "Haa... Mmm...!" Ellen, unable to focus on these details, could only tilt her head back, her delicate eyebrows furrowed tightly, as she struggled to prevent a silver strand from dripping off her tongue. Behind her, a maid wearing a KIGURUMI headpiece was tending to someone's hair, gently styling it into a ponytail to complement her bangs, creating a gentle and energetic image. To prevent Ellen from resisting, her slender, lotus-root-like arms had already been bound by shackles and cat paw gloves. They were now weakly held behind her back, occasionally swinging left and right as she attempted to pull at the chains between the shackles. Even doing this was incredibly difficult for her, as the shackles and kneeling devices disrupted her center of gravity, making it impossible to stand and difficult to fully extend her knees. The only way to move forward was to crawl on her knees. For a delicate lady to be so intricately restrained was bound to be an ordeal. "Come, follow me." Without giving Ellen any chance to recover, Malena, having locked all the devices, grabbed the leash and forcefully pulled her outside. "Mmm... Hmmm...!!" Wait a minute?! Ellen hurriedly lifted her knees, following her captor's pace clumsily, while also trying to tense her waist to prevent her upper body, being pulled forward, from completely toppling over. Her arms struggled behind her back, but she couldn't break free from the sturdy shackles to gain any agency. Even worse, the saliva she was barely controlling began to drip uncontrollably from her tongue, mirroring the tears in the corners of her eyes and her flushed cheeks, making for a rather moving sight. Because of this, when Ellen was led "out" of the room and into the view of the patrons in the cafe, she immediately drew a series of soft, intermittent claps. This was a customary practice among regulars; they would offer quiet applause as a sign of recognition and appreciation for a maid who was particularly alluring or who put in a great effort. From their perspective, the maid manager was leading out what appeared to be a pathetic pet, dressed in a white latex suit, a very short maid apron, adorned with cat ears and a tail, with tears in her eyes. If this were an auction house instead of a cafe, someone would have already started bidding, and there would be no talk of restraint. "A few people called in sick today, so you're the only kitty. You need to work hard to serve the customers who need you. If you need to rest, you can take a break on the cushion over there." Malena turned and closed the door, then crouched down, gently pinching Ellen's soft, tender cheek. She cooed, "It's okay~ You're the cutest kitty just sitting here." I—don't—want—to—be—praised—like—this—at—all—!? Ellen's shame was reaching its limit. Yet, with her lips forced open by the tongue restraint and gag, she dared not attempt any wild retorts. Otherwise, a mere whimper or moan would be the least of her worries; if she twitched her tongue and provoked her captor to escalate, it wouldn't be a laughing matter.

Laila didn't reach for the iron ring. Instead, she playfully kissed Ilya and whispered, "Darling, try to struggle a little?" *It's not you who's becoming the pet,* Ilya grumbled inwardly, though her arms still moved obediently up and down, tugging at the straps that secured the gauntlets to the back harness. She was demonstrating for the audience. Her struggles were genuine, the force so great that the restraints creaked as if about to give way. Yet, the harness remained unyielding, cinching her arms tightly, forcing her elbows to bend, allowing only her shoulder blades to move her upper arms. "The secretary has such a great figure..." Yelena murmured to herself, watching the scene, a flicker of desire ignited within her. Ilya was clad in white stockings, white gloves, and an elegant corset. Her arms were each bound, her entire being a vision of white against her delicate skin, appearing both chaste and incredibly alluring. The curve of her waist and hips drew the eye, even more so than her full, ample breasts. Perhaps, at this banquet, her role as Laila's private secretary was a stroke of luck. Otherwise, in her freedom, she might have been claimed by some lady or gentleman, her fate then dependent on the company's disposition. "As you can all see, the integrated disabling gauntlets, the back clasps, and the inherent toughness of the material ensure that your pet will absolutely not be able to escape." Laila chuckled, pinching a soft piece of Ilya's upper arm. She then retrieved two leg restraints from her bag. "The leg restraints have a slightly different application. First, both calves must be fully inserted into the integrated stockings, after which the pet can be made to kneel to complete the restraint." As she spoke, Laila knelt by Ilya's feet. With a silent understanding, Ilya lifted her left leg, straightened her ankle, and slowly lowered it into the K9 restraint's integrated stocking. The nano-woven material, designed for varying degrees of stretch in different areas while remaining a single piece, made the process surprisingly smooth. After a minor adjustment, Laila guided Ilya into a kneeling position, then supported her collarbone, urging her to lean forward, resting on her elbows. The main body of the leg restraint stretched as it was pulled, sliding past her knees. With a snap of elastic retraction, it settled at the base of her thighs, cinching her smooth skin. The length was perfect, revealing the top edge of the white stockings and the garters, an incredibly sexy sight. The remaining steps were identical to before: tightening two straps, and finally, pulling the elastic band connecting the toes to the stocking up her leg to the clasp beneath the corset at her lower back, completing the entire process. "At this point, you will have acquired a pet that cannot resist and can only obey." Laila, still smiling, knelt beside Ilya, her hand gently tracing the curve of her waist and back, stroking the adorable cat-like creature now kneeling on her knees and elbows, as if soothing a real pet. "Come, do you remember what I taught you before?" ...Ilya, entirely white, remained silent for a long moment, forcing down the heat rising in her flushed cheeks. She hesitantly parted her lips and uttered in a soft, childish voice, "Meow~" "Such a good girl." As a reward, Laila patted her head and produced a voice recorder from her pocket. "With just one sound from your pet, this new AI model can continuously iterate and build a model based on vocal characteristics, ultimately simulating various cat or dog sounds with different emotions. It perfectly matches the individual's vocal range and captures the nuances of a human imitating pet sounds, making it superior to traditional sound devices." Her smile remained as she waited confidently for a few seconds before retrieving a cute pink bell collar from her bag and fastening it around Ilya's neck. "This entire process takes only a few seconds, so there's no need to wait long. However, this is just a collar. How to prevent your pet from speaking for itself will still require your own ingenuity."

In the club, wearing a locked collar signifies ownership or that one is not to be taken away casually. Without a collar, it means freedom, though whether one is a Dom or a Sub waiting for a "fated person" requires further conversation to ascertain. An unlocked collar is the most eye-catching, signaling an invitation to play and that one can be taken away at any time. Of course, that's only within the club. Everyone leaving is checked, so there's no need to worry about becoming a permanent slave. It's simple logic. The club is backed by the company. If a Sub shakes their head, it means the company will step in. Whether inside or outside the club, if this customer encounters any trouble, the most suspected customer will pay the price. It is precisely because of this powerful backing that the club has built such an excellent reputation, attracting many customers. Recalling the intelligence recently gathered, Yelena suddenly put down her wine glass and walked towards a corner of the club. With nothing else to do today, she decided to find some fun for herself and expand her network, laying the groundwork for her upcoming mission. "Mmm..." In that corner, several customers in various attire were confined by their collars, their movements restricted to the walls. Some were kneeling, some wore displeased expressions, while others were busy struggling against their restraints. This was a relatively special area. If you lost a bet, or voluntarily chose to, you might be locked here until the club closed for the day. To leave, one could only wait for another customer to rescue them or take them away. As for Yelena, she was naturally here to find a plaything, and with just a glance, she had already found someone who piqued her interest. "Little one, that gag must be uncomfortable~?" Yelena walked directly to the blonde woman on the far left and whispered playfully: "Want to come with me? The restraints will be stricter, but it won't be as painful." She watched the woman's jaw move, her expression full of resentment, and couldn't help but reach out, her slender, well-proportioned index finger tapping the woman's chin, tilting it slightly. The blonde woman was already suffering from the oversized red ball gag. Seeing someone make a promise, she immediately nodded, her eyes filled with anticipation, begging the other to help her remove it. "Pfft... That's not quite right. The gag might hurt a bit, but you probably haven't been here for too long, have you?" Yelena teased the exquisitely beautiful and cute lady, stroking her cheek, her fingertips gradually delving into the soft strands of hair, and unlocking the padlock on the gag. "Hoo... Awoo..." As soon as the crimson ball gag was freed from the restraint, it naturally slipped out from between her soft lips, trailing a strand of saliva that was particularly noticeable under the lights, causing the blonde woman's cheeks to flush slightly. She moved her jaw a few times, feeling the soreness and pain slowly recede, and looked gratefully at the tall succubus before her. "Th-thank you..." Could this be her first time here? Tsk, then I might feel guilty... Yelena suddenly felt a pang of unease, but still forced a calm demeanor, hooking the woman's collar with her finger and whispering, "Why thank your Dom? Perhaps what happens next will be even more painful for you? You'll beg and beg, but no one will answer, and you'll only be able to whimper and beg for mercy~?" She deliberately spoke with a provocative tone, leading the blonde woman to unconsciously imagine unpleasant scenarios, her pretty face flushing, looking exceptionally cute. However, she quickly regained her composure and shook her head. "You don't seem like a bad person. Those Doms aren't that good. They say they'll remove the gag and then they do. They just make promises... trick us into agreeing and then turn their backs on us." Her tone was full of resentment, and it was not difficult to hear her indignation towards those Doms; she had clearly suffered greatly from them. Yelena's lips curved slightly as she pulled the leash and led the woman towards her previous seat, casually asking, "What's your name? Or would you prefer I call you pet? Plaything? Slave~? Anything is fine, you choose one you like?"

But Yelena paid no mind to any of this, taking advantage of the little slave's compliance this time, she directly gripped the person's wrist and began to "help" put on the latex long-sleeved gloves. Similar to the previous props, the inside of this pair of latex gloves had also been specially treated. As soon as it came into contact with latex, it would generate a strong suction, and it would be impossible to remove without a special release agent. Moreover, it was designed as a disabling glove, which would force the fingers to curl inward and bend, forming fists. As the first part of the formal restraint, the material used for the gloves themselves was not ordinary latex, but a special material that would begin to contract on its own when subjected to external force. In other words, as long as Rebecca tried to struggle, the latex gloves themselves would contract inward, creating resistance. The harder she tried, the more so it would be, unless she could exceed the material's own tolerance limit. But that was destined to be impossible. Restraint, in itself, was so cruel and despairing. The more you craved freedom, the more intense the torment brought by the restraint would be. Only by adapting to it, by liking it, could one truly be liberated from it. However, once that was truly done, it meant that one had changed and chosen to submit. That was what the Doms truly desired. Only when that time came would the slaves realize that all their thoughts and actions were unimportant, because the restraint could force them to make specific choices. Even if they held out this time, there would always be a next time. They had to endure at all times, and they would eventually break down. This is too much... Thinking of this, Rebecca couldn't help but purse her lips and mutter a complaint under her breath. "Our little saintess isn't so pure after all~" Yelena caught her subtle movement and chuckled softly, "If you were a slave who truly disliked restraint, you would feel wronged at this moment, or try to resist. But you are playing hard to get. You seem unhappy on the surface, but in your heart, you are probably already overjoyed, aren't you? Little saintess?" Hearing the deliberately changed address, Rebecca simply ignored her, her gaze drifting to the side, maintaining an attitude of "you won't get what you want." "Hmph, you think you can hide such little thoughts from me?" Yelena flicked Rebecca's delicate nose, then, before she could notice, wrapped the collar in her other hand around her neck. It was a white latex collar of a certain thickness, engraved with golden characters like prayers. It was clearly a symbol of enslavement, yet it appeared so sacred. But it ultimately had its duty. At least Yelena could easily hook the iron ring on the front and force Rebecca to stand up, her back to her. "I'll tie up your hands first, and then it will be up to me, won't it?" Yelena, with a smile, took out several pairs of handcuffs of different designs and began to formally restrain Rebecca's hands. The sizes of these handcuffs were all exquisitely crafted. Only two pairs were relatively conventional latex handcuffs, one at the wrists and the other at the upper arms. The latter was integrated with a thick iron rod, and once worn, it was impossible to bring the hands together or struggle sideways. The former was relatively conventional, using iron chains as restraints. The remaining parts were all different. The steel shackles close to the wrists used iron chains, heavy and exquisite. Above them were two specially elongated figure-eight metal shackles, wide and thick, clearly not the type that could be broken by force. The one that shackled the elbows was also a figure-eight metal shackle, but there was no gap in the middle, and it was much higher than the former, extremely heavy. The sacred and exquisite latex saintess, paired with heavy and intricate metal shackles, appeared exceptionally harmonious at this moment, as if it were meant for Rebecca, as a saintess, to endure such suffering, and it also evoked a sense of pity in one's heart. Of course, Yelena was an exception. As the instigator of everything, she not only showed no softening of her heart but secretly nodded, thinking that she could design a more stringent set of restraints in the future, specifically for those who liked latex nuns. With this thought, Yelena suddenly slapped Rebecca's buttocks, but her fingers did not leave in a hurry. Holding the firm and full flesh of her buttocks, she slowly said: "Next, the little saintess will have to endure more suffering." "How about it, are you excited?"