Pornographic Mother~dog Collection Shop~ (Turning Beautiful Girls into Living Hangers for Sexy Mother~dog Uniforms~)

Su Xiaoyao stood before the enormous full-length mirror, tears welling up in her eyes from sheer excitement. This "Rem" outfit... it was as if it had grown onto her! The fabric was cool and smooth, clinging perfectly to every inch of her skin, accentuating her model-like curves far more exquisitely than she had ever imagined – a million times better than she'd dreamed! She happily raised her hands, clad in white silk gloves, and flashed a "V" sign at her reflection. At that very moment. "...Huh?" Her smile froze. She realized her fingers... wouldn't separate. "Eh? Wh... what's happening?" She tried to force her hands apart, but the fabric of the white silk gloves had, at some point, become as smooth and resilient as resin! The silk texture was vanishing, her hands forcibly "fused" and locked into two perfect, unyielding "prayer" fists! "Hey! They won't open!" A wave of panic washed over her, and she instinctively tried to step back, only to let out a short, sharp cry of pain! The cute, 5cm-high blue Mary Jane heels on her feet were "transforming"! With a "click," the heels retracted into the soles, while the entire shoe body and sole began to "grow," harden, and lengthen at an alarming rate! The toe box pressed down infinitely, forcing her instep into a painful ninety-degree arch, leaving her only able to stand on the agonizing tips of her toes! In mere seconds, those "cute" shoes had become a pair of 20cm-tall, gleaming, inhuman "rootless hooves"! "It hurts...! So much! No... wait..." Su Xiaoyao's body began to tremble violently from the unnatural, agonizing posture. She looked at the mirror in terror, and the sight reflected there plunged her into an icy abyss. "Yaaahhh!!" She watched, helpless— The "Rem" maid outfit she was wearing was "dissolving"! The pristine blue fabric was rapidly turning "translucent," like the most vulgar, sheer lingerie! The white apron over her chest had completely "melted" away, transforming into a gaping "open-bust" design, exposing her full, ample breasts to the air! "No... don't look...!" She tried to cover herself, but her "fused" fists were yanked backward with immense force, locked tightly behind her back! What plunged her into even deeper shame and despair was that the remaining white lace trim around her exposed breasts was automatically tightening and reshaping, forcibly "squeezing" her areolas and nipples into a shameful "heart" shape! "No... no...!!" "Lesson Two: Advanced." Su Muning sneered, pressing the activation button of the "Flesh Cannon." "—'Forced Obedience'." "Thump!" The machine whirred to life. "Yaaahhh—!!!" "Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!" The machine began to penetrate her body with a slow, powerful rhythm! "Ah... Mmm... Ah... Don't... stop... Aaaah!" Each thrust sent spasms through her entire body! Each withdrawal pulled out a torrent of shameful fluids! The "unwillingness" and "humiliation" of the "bitch" reached their peak at this moment! She was being raped by a "machine"! "Wuwuwu... (Devil! I hate you!)" She writhed frantically, trying to break free from the "vibrator"! "Oh? Still resisting?" Su Muning pressed the remote control. "Fivefold Punishment"—activate! "Yaaahhhhaaaahhaaaahhaaaah (A-la-la-la-la-la-la)——!!!!" The "pleasure" and "pain" of the "Fivefold Hell," mixed with the "penetrating," mechanical "violation" of the "Flesh Cannon"— The "bitch's" sanity... Snapped. She no longer resisted. Her mind could no longer process the "compound," "overloaded" signals. She could only endure, numbly, passively. Her body swayed back and forth under the "machine's" penetration. Her body trembled violently under the "stimulus" of the "Fivefold Punishment." From her mouth came "Ah... Mmm... Ah..."—a humiliating cry of "pleasure" that she herself couldn't understand. Her eyes had completely lost focus, leaving only... a vacant stare. "Heh heh... Heheheh..." Su Muning gazed at her "masterpiece." This "bitchy little dog" was "personally"… Completely broken on the "first day." "Truly a... compliant bitch." Su Muning let out a satisfied sigh. "Now, it's 'feeding' time." She didn't fetch a "dog bowl." She activated the "Training Platform." The "bitch" was dragged back to the center of the platform. The platform opened a gap. A... monstrous "mechanism" rose up. Not "dog food." It was the "Flesh Cannon." "No... what is that... wuwu... (A-la-la)... No..." The "bitch's" sliver of regained sanity was shattered by terror once more! "This is your 'dog food,' 'Rem'." Su Muning stroked her "dog ear headband." "You crawled very well. This is your 'reward'." She activated another robotic arm, which roughly "pulled out" the "dog tail plug" from the "bitch's" rear! "Aaaah—!!" A wave of intense "emptiness" and "pain" washed over her! "No... please... Master... (A-la-la)... I don't want this reward... I'll eat dog food... I'll eat dog food, okay!!" For the first time... she voluntarily called out "Master." She would rather eat "dog food" than be subjected to that "machine"... Su Muning tugged at the leash, "Come, Xiao Yao, come to Master." Su Xiaoyao immediately let out excited whimpers, quickening her crawl speed. She reached Su Muning's feet and lay down obediently like a pet dog awaiting a caress. Su Muning stroked her masked head as one would a pet. Su Xiaoyao's "bitch instincts" were fully triggered. She squinted comfortably, and through the mask, her "dog nose" instinctively pressed against Su Muning's cool palm. The sound pierced Xiao Wen in the glass cabinet like a needle. Su Muning pinched the buckle of Su Xiaoyao's mask. With a click, Su Muning removed her dog mask. A wave of heat washed over them. Su Xiaoyao's eyes were vacant, completely unfocused. The "tongue-pulling gag" in her mouth forced her mouth open, saliva uncontrollably dribbling down, making her entire face appear lewd and humiliated. Su Muning took out a sugar cube and, with a snap, threw it onto the floor in front of Su Xiaoyao. "Good dog, eat it." Su Xiaoyao's vacant eyes brightened, an instinct of a "pet." She immediately lowered herself like a puppy, sticking out her tongue, clumsily licking the sugar cube on the floor, making "slurp, slurp" sounds like an animal eating. This scene completely broke Xiao Wen. (She finally understood... Su Xiaoyao... is no longer punishment... she is routine! She is a pet!) (And I... I am the one being punished! I am the isolated doll!) Resentment? Shame? Gone. Only cold humiliation and... despair remained. She suddenly understood. Su Muning's "punishment" was not this glass cabinet; the real punishment was "isolation." It was making her watch her best friend fall into hell with her own eyes, while she herself was a "doll" "high above." (No... not high above... forgotten!) No... I don't want... Within Xiao Wen, the determination to be with Su Xiaoyao (even being a dog was better than being a forgotten doll!) overwhelmed everything at this moment! Even if it's hell... even if it means becoming a dog... I want to be with her! "Woof! Woof woof woof!!" Xiao Wen completely broke down. She thrashed her body wildly. "Oh?" Su Muning looked at her mockingly. "My sex doll seems to have something to say?" She elegantly walked to the glass cabinet, personally turned the combination lock, and pulled open the heavy glass door. She reached out, pinched Xiao Wen's chin, and personally unbuckled the gag. As she pulled the gag out of Xiao Wen's mouth, a long, glistening, stringy strand of saliva was pulled out with it. "Cough... cough cough... Haa... Haa..." Xiao Wen's body suddenly went limp, but the metal dildo piercing her and the straps binding her legs held her firmly in place! She didn't even have the right to kneel! She could only maintain that most humiliating **"standing at attention"** posture, gasping for air, tears and saliva mixing, sliding down her face in disarray. "Speak, my doll, what do you want to beg of me?" Su Muning asked from above. Xiao Wen, still fixed in this position, raised her tear-streaked, incredibly lewd face. She looked at Su Xiaoyao, who was obediently licking the floor by Su Muning's feet (searching for sugar crumbs), and let out a humiliated, hoarse, tearful plea: "Please... please don't make me a doll alone..." She pointed at Su Xiaoyao, her voice trembling with despair: "I want to be with Xiao Yao... become a bitch like her..." She pressed a button on a console on the wall. A hidden compartment in the ceiling slid open silently, revealing two precise mechanical arms, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen. They hovered behind Su Muning, as if extensions of her will. "Nn? (What are you doing?!)" Cold Moon felt a surge of immense fear. "Don't be afraid," Su Muning smiled. "Since you're so 'energetic' tonight, let's have some... 'deep therapy'." "Tonight, you are deprived of the right to 'sleep'." With a gesture from Su Muning, the two mechanical arms sprang into action. They precisely gripped the restraints on Cold Moon's body, dragging her to the center of the room. Then, clasps extended from the ends of the arms, and thicker chains secured her limbs to four floor anchors, forcing her into a K9 position, completely immobile. "You... let me go! Nn nn nn!" "Your 'punishment' is to 'contemplate' throughout this long night," Su Muning's voice was like a judge's verdict. "Think carefully... what, exactly, are you?" "Are you still that 'proud older sister'? Or... have you become a 'bunny girl'? A 'bitch'? Or perhaps... you are merely a pathetic 'toilet', not even allowed to sleep?" "To help you 'focus'..." Su Muning picked up several... new "tools" from a tray. Cold Moon's pupils contracted to their smallest size. "No... don't... nn... please..." Su Muning ignored her pleas. She cut open the two lace hearts on Cold Moon's chest. "Ah! My breasts... nn..." Then came the cold, disinfectant-scented... piercing needle. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!" Agony. Heart-wrenching agony, radiating from her most sensitive breasts. Cold Moon let out the most piercing scream of her life. Su Muning... she actually... actually did it... As Cold Moon's consciousness reeled from the intense pain, Su Muning skillfully attached two small, silver "nipple rings" with tiny vibrating motors onto her pierced, pathetic nipples. "This... is just the appetizer." Su Muning approached and personally operated the fine-tuning panel of the mechanical arm. One arm extended a delicate clamp, forcibly separating Cold Moon's legs, which were bound by a shibari. "Nn... don't... don't touch there... nn..." A cold, smooth object, more terrifying than a rabbit tail butt plug, was slowly... pushed into the most private, softest part of her body. It was a "bouncing bullet." "There." Su Muning clapped her hands in satisfaction after completing this. She walked to the wall and tethered Xiao Wen and Su Xiao Yao to floor anchors by the wall as well. "The two of you, your task tonight is to 'watch'," Su Muning told them. "Watch closely, this is the consequence of 'rebellion'." Xiao Wen was already on the verge of fainting from fear. She closed her eyes, unable to bear looking any further. She froze. Her body understood the pattern before her mind did – discomfort for error, (brief, fleeting) comfort for correctness. A deeper chill spread from her core. This wasn't conditioning based on emotion or desire; it was pure, cold, behavioral domestication. Her reason screamed manipulation, humiliation, but her muscle memory began to betray her, automatically, cautiously adjusting her posture to avoid the unpleasant electric shock. "What am I doing... am I trying to please a machine?" She looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall, the distorted figure contorting its body, striving to maintain a lewd pose for a moment's peace, and felt a wave of nausea. Next was the "Omni-Sensory Development Pod." It was a translucent, cocoon-like chamber. As Leng Yue was placed inside by a robotic arm, an unknown dread filled her. The hatch sealed, and the interior lights flickered on, soft but devoid of warmth. She was suspended in a "single-leg hoist." One leg was pulled up by a soft leather strap, her entire body weight supported by the other leg, which barely stood, and her arms, which shared the load. Her body was stretched to its limit, every muscle taut. The ropes of the Kote-gaeshi binding dug deeper into her flesh, outlining breathtaking curves. This posture left her completely exposed, utterly defenseless. Before she could adjust to the shame of being suspended, the vibrator and bullet inside her were remotely activated. Not the tentative caresses from before, but precise, multi-frequency composite stimulation. The internal vibrator churned with a steady rhythm, the bullet on her clitoris vibrated at high frequency, and the suction cup on her nipple pulsed simultaneously. Multiple orgasms erupted from different points, like countless tiny snakes writhing and gnawing within her. "Ah... mmm..." Broken moans escaped her forced-open mouth as her body began to writhe uncontrollably, trying to escape the overload. But her suspended posture rendered all her struggles into futile, sensual undulations. Sweat quickly soaked her hairline, and saliva dripped from the mouth gag onto her chest. This was just the beginning. Suddenly, several soft mechanical tentacles, tipped with various small tools, emerged from the pod's walls. One tentacle held a soft feather, tracing her underarms, the sides of her waist, and the exquisitely sensitive areas of her inner thighs with maddening slowness. Another tentacle held a cool jade massage wand, gliding slowly down her spine, sending shivers with every touch. Then came the warm, low-melting point special wax oil, dripping, drop by precise drop, onto her lower abdomen and collarbone, creating an alternating sensation of burning and chilling. Leng Yue's mind was in complete disarray. Pleasure crashed over her like a tsunami, wave after wave battering her crumbling mental defenses. She wanted to scream, to curse, but only increasingly sweet, drawn-out whimpers escaped her lips. Her body betrayed her so thoroughly; her inner walls spasmed violently, greedily sucking the offending vibrator. Lubricant flooded her, making her inner thighs slick. Under this all-encompassing, multi-sensory bombardment, her sense of shame seemed to blur, leaving only the most primal pursuit of pleasure and physiological response. After an unknown duration, all vibrations and touches abruptly ceased. Leng Yue hung there like a puddle of mud, gasping for air, her eyes unfocused, her body still twitching minutely. The afterglow of orgasm enveloped her like a warm tide, bringing a post-exertion calm, even... a shameful sense of satisfaction. But the machine's "gifts" were not over. As she was released from the hoist and curled up in the pod in a "crab binding," a more profound conditioning began. VR goggles were placed over her eyes, and bone-conduction headphones pressed against her skull. Images appeared before her – herself. Her first time eating like a dog, her face smeared with food scraps; her lewd expression during forced orgasms, eyes rolling back, saliva dripping; her moments kneeling at Su Muning's feet, tail-wagging like a beggar for favor... These were the shameful moments she most wanted to forget, magnified and replayed in high definition. Simultaneously, clear, looping phrases echoed in her headphones, accompanied by fluctuations in her physiological data during orgasmic moments in the video: "Bitch," "Slut," "Master's toilet," "A worthless animal that can't live without its master..." Leng Yue trembled violently, more intensely than when enduring physical stimulation. This was mental rape, tearing away her last shred of dignity. "No... don't look... turn it off! Please, turn it off!" she screamed internally, tears streaming down her face. However, just as her body tensed from extreme shame and anger, the internal toys reactivated. This time, the stimulation was directly linked to her physiological response to hearing those words. When she heard "bitch" and showed resistance by tensing, the pleasure lessened. When fatigue and the visual stimuli caused her to relax slightly, even feeling a flicker of excitement recalling past orgasms, the pleasure intensified abruptly. Her body, on a level she hadn't even perceived, began to learn. It learned to associate those humiliating words with extreme physiological pleasure. Once, twice... After countless trials of conditioned reflexes, when "Master's toilet" echoed in her headphones again, Leng Yue discovered with horror that her body, before her consciousness could even react, produced a familiar throb of anticipation for pleasure. Her inner walls contracted involuntarily, as if welcoming a non-existent vibrator. In that moment, Leng Yue felt a despair and terror deeper than any physical punishment. Her will, her reason, were being dismantled and reshaped, bit by bit, under this precise, ruthless, and persistent mechanical conditioning. She was no longer merely forced into the posture of a bitch; she was being transformed on a physiological level into a true "bitch machine," one that reacted automatically to commands. When the hatch opened again, Leng Yue was gently carried out by a robotic arm. She lay limp on the cold metal floor, lacking the strength to even lift a finger. Her vacant eyes stared at the soft light of the ceiling, which seemed to reflect her slowly dying soul, the soul of "Leng Yue." The humiliating words still seemed to echo in her ears, but they no longer brought pure anger, but a shameful, secret excitement. She saw Xiao Yao nearby, who seemed to have finished her training, lying submissively, awaiting further instructions, a lazy expression of being "fully satisfied" on her face. Xiao Wen also remained quiet, but when Leng Yue looked over, she offered a complex, unreadable glance. It held concern, sympathy, but more than anything, a calm resignation of "it's always been this way." Leng Yue closed her eyes. The machine's brand was no longer just on her skin; it was deeply etched into her neural pathways. She knew that once some things were awakened, there was no going back. And all of this was just the beginning. Su Muning walked in, dressed today in a tight black latex queen outfit. The sound of her high-heeled boots on the floor was crisp and rhythmic, like nails being hammered into a heart. "It seems yesterday's 'welcome ceremony' was quite memorable for you?" Su Muning's voice held a hint of playfulness. She stopped in front of Xia Nuanqing, looking down at her condescendingly, as if appraising an "artwork" nearing completion. "Yesterday's vibrating dildo was just an appetizer." As she spoke, she crouched down, her cold latex glove caressing Xia Nuanqing's sweaty cheek. "Your body knows how to enjoy itself even better than you do." Xia Nuanqing bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood, trying to use this sharper pain to dispel the lingering, lewd tremors of memory. Su Muning picked up a black, deep-throat gag covered in soft rubber spikes from a silver trolley beside her. It gleamed ominously in the dim light. "Today, we're going to fulfill another little prophecy." She dangled the gag, its spikes swaying softly. "Do you remember what I said in the fitting room at La Voile?" Xia Nuanqing's body stiffened violently. (It's happening again... she's going to make what she said in the shop a reality...) Fear choked her. Su Muning gave her no time to prepare. She cupped Xia Nuanqing's chin with one hand, forcing her mouth open. The size of the gag was clearly beyond normal proportions; it wasn't meant to silence, but to... stretch. Before Xia Nuanqing could react, Su Muning roughly shoved the cold, oversized rubber sphere into her mouth! "Mmmph—!!!" Xia Nuanqing's eyes snapped open, her eyeballs bulging slightly from the sudden sensation of suffocation. The soft spikes on the gag scraped across her tongue and palate, pushing all the way to the back of her throat! The foreign object sensation was so intense it made her gag instantly, tears welling up involuntarily. The ball filled her mouth, pressing against the root of her tongue, reaching the very back of her throat, triggering a violent swallowing reflex. But the gag blocked it, and a torrent of saliva streamed uncontrollably from her forcibly stretched, O-shaped mouth, dripping onto her bare chest, mingling with the crisscrossing rope marks. "Cough... cough cough cough!!!" She coughed violently, her body arching as she tried to spit out the gag. But Su Muning was faster. She picked up a leather strap and looped it around the back of Xia Nuanqing's head through the metal rings on either side of the gag, locking it with a "click!" Her mouth was fixed in this extremely open position, unable to close. Her soft tongue was pressed between the rubber spikes, sending waves of itchy, stinging pain. She tried to shake her head, to struggle, but... "Click." Another sound. Lighter, colder. A nose hook. Su Muning picked up the small silver hook and precisely clipped it onto the softest part of her nostril. The fine chain pulled upwards, connecting to the collar, forcing her head back, her gaze fixed upwards at the neatly arranged LED strips on the ceiling, emitting a faint blue glow. The light was like icy blades, slicing away the last vestiges of her dignity. She whimpered muffled sounds, her salivary glands working overtime, producing saliva that, unable to be swallowed, trickled down her chin and neck, pooling into a small, wet sheen on her chest. Breathing suddenly became a luxury. She could only take short, shallow breaths through her nostrils, each inhale accompanied by a desperate hiss. Her vision narrowed from the angle of her head, allowing her to see only Su Muning's amber eyes, filled with scrutiny and mockery. That gaze was like that of an artist admiring a "work" in progress. "I told you," Su Muning's voice came from above, with an almost cruel satisfaction, "it would reach all the way to the back of your throat, making even swallowing your own saliva a luxury." Su Muning's fingers slid down the fine chain of the nose hook, tracing Xia Nuanqing's forced-open throat, which spasmed from the gag's deep intrusion. Her chest heaved, the corset tightening with each breath, digging into her ribs, yet there was a twisted pleasure... of being filled?" Xia Nuanqing's mind buzzed. (So full... my throat feels like it's going to split... I can't breathe...) The sensation of suffocation surged through her brain like a tide, black spots appearing at the edges of her vision, accompanied by dizziness from lack of oxygen. "See, even your own saliva is betraying you." Su Muning's fingertip brushed against the saliva flowing down her chin, then, with deliberate humiliation, she pressed that damp fingertip gently onto Xia Nuanqing's Adam's apple, feeling the muscles there writhe in desperation, trying to escape the suffocating foreign object. (No... I can't swallow... I'll choke...) The instinct for survival and the ultimate sense of humiliation warred fiercely within her. Tears flowed back into her ear canals, bringing a cool dampness. She wanted to scream: (I'm a police officer! Let me go!) But all that came out were muffled "wooo wooo" sounds, mixed with "glug glug" noises from the gag being pushed against the back of her throat, sounding jarringly loud in the silent room. Su Muning seemed pleased with her pathetic state, unable to speak, reduced to drooling uncontrollably! Su Muning seemed to read her thoughts. "Want to shout? Want to call for help?" she chuckled. "Too bad, you can't even close your mouth right now." She tugged on the nose hook's chain, forcing Xia Nuanqing's head back even further. The pain of her nostrils being pulled had become a dull ache, replaced by a deeper poison called "belonging," quietly seeping into every nerve. "Remember?" Su Muning repeated, as if reciting an evil incantation. "I said I would fix your head in this posture, forever looking up at your master, so you'd always remember you're just a lowly bitch." Those words were like a key, unlocking a deeper layer of fear. Xia Nuanqing's body began to tremble uncontrollably, not from fear, but from something more despairing – her body, on the verge of extreme humiliation and suffocation, was finding a strange sense of peace. It was as if this extreme deprivation and control had constructed a twisted, yet incredibly solid cage for her. Just then, Su Muning pressed another remote control in her hand. Inside the gag, the soft silicone spikes suddenly began to vibrate at high frequency! "Bzzzzzz—!!!" The vibration wasn't localized like a vibrator; it was a deep, resonant hum that seemed to echo directly within her skull. The deep-throat gag's vibration pattern changed. It was no longer simple oscillation but mimicked swallowing motions, pressing wave after wave against her windpipe. It simulated the sensation of being force-fed, or rather... violated down to the very depths of her throat, causing her entire body to tremble violently! "Mmmph...!!" she let out a muffled sound from the back of her throat, a deep-throat violation poised between agony and pleasure, a sound that made her very soul tremble! Xia Nuanqing's eyes rolled back from extreme pain and oxygen deprivation, her body convulsing violently on the rack. The suffocating climax, coupled with her legs being forcibly spread apart, exposing her private parts to the cold air, sent a powerful, hollow tremor through her, a desperate craving to be filled more roughly. Her body arched upwards sharply, like a dying swan, her neck forming a fragile curve, sweat streaming down her body. Her once sexy, perfect figure was now subjected to the dual restraint of the gag and the nose hook, her consciousness beginning to detach. (Swallow... it's forcing me to swallow?!) The realization brought a panic that overwhelmed everything. She thrashed her head wildly, trying to escape the deadly violation, but it was all in vain. The neck brace and the thin chain of the nose hook formed a precise mechanical structure, pinning her immovably in this sacrificial pose. "Guh... ugh...!!" she let out a muffled wail, saliva spraying out, glistening obscenely under the dim blue light. She felt as if her soul were being ripped from her violently trembling body, suspended in mid-air, coldly observing the woman below, her face contorted by the gag, tears and saliva streaming down her cheeks... Who was that? Su Muning admired her, completely robbed of her ability to speak, walking the razor's edge between suffocation and ecstasy. Su Muning increased the vibration intensity. The spikes inside the gag rotated and scraped against her sensitive palate and uvula. Each vibration precisely grazed the area where her G-spot was located? No... that's not right... this is... a deep-throat orgasm?! A sense of conquest, deeper than bone, entirely different from clitoral orgasm, accompanied by a physiological pleasure that made her utterly ashamed, was frantically devouring her remaining sanity. "It's uncomfortable, isn't it?" Su Muning's voice held an almost tender gentleness, a stark contrast to the cruel torture she was inflicting. Her consciousness blurred in the oxygen deprivation, yet her body's pleasure surged to an unprecedented peak! "Ahhhhh—!!!" A choked, inhuman scream of a suffocating climax, blocked deep in her throat, swept through every cell like a tsunami. Her vision was no longer darkness but a burst of white. No thought, no struggle, only pure, forcibly bestowed carnal pleasure, like an explosion in her skull, reducing all her shame, unwillingness, and anger to dust in that instant! She collapsed completely, all struggle ceasing at that moment. Not submission, but a more thorough... breakdown. She lay limp on the rack, like a discarded human-shaped fleshlight after being played with, used, filled, pushed to the extreme of destruction, and then finding a twisted peace in the ruins. After a long time, perhaps only seconds, but for a near-death experience, it felt as long as eternity. Su Muning finally turned off the vibration. She removed the gag, leaving behind long, stringy strands of mucus, mixed with her tears, hanging miserably on her flushed, hot cheeks. She looked in the mirror at her humiliated posture, wearing the nose hook, her mouth forcibly propped open, forever seared into her retinas. Su Muning took a step back, looking at her "creation." "Now, even the freedom to make a sound has been taken from you," her voice was calm and unwavering, yet more penetrating than any roar. "Remember this feeling," Su Muning's voice was like a final judgment, "This is the price of silence." Su Muning's voice was not loud, but it struck Xia Nuanqing's heart like a heavy hammer. "From today on, your mouth, your breath, all belong to me." Su Muning's voice echoed in the empty training room, then gradually faded. Silence. Ning pulled the rope again. This time, the force was a little heavier. The collar tightened, making Tang Xiaoyou gasp for air and forcing her to shuffle forward a bit. That little bit was enough. Once her body started moving, it couldn't stop. She could only, humiliatingly, inch by inch, use her bound knees and elbows to support herself as she crawled out of the narrow cage. This posture was incredibly difficult. Her limbs were folded and bound, knees and calves pressed together, thighs and calves bent, forcing her to crawl like a dog, moving forward by alternating her knees and elbows. With every shuffle, the memory foam pads on her knees rubbed against the ground, emitting a faint "shushing" sound. Her elbows pressed against the floor, her latex gloves fisted, making her unable to exert much force, her movements clumsy and slow. Even more shameful were the changes in her body. As she crawled, her hips were forced high into the air, and the pink and white dog tail butt plug swayed behind her, its fluffy tip brushing against the ground. The flesh of her chest jiggled with her movements, pulled tighter by the red Kote-kote ropes, her nipples rubbing against the lace openings, sending waves of subtle stinging and pleasure. The T-strap between her legs dug deeply into her flesh, and the cool, small ball pressed against her clitoris, rubbing with the rhythm of her crawl. The vibrator and bullet inside her seemed to sense her movements, subtly adjusting their vibrations, as if matching her crawling frequency. Saliva continued to drip uncontrollably from her restrained tongue. She crawled slowly, and her saliva fell drop by drop, leaving a broken, glistening wet trail on the cold, smooth floor beneath her. Like a dog marking its territory. But she wasn't marking territory; she was marking her shame. Tang Xiaoyou kept her head down, not daring to look around. But she could feel the gazes. Icy stares, piercing her from all directions. To her left, in the cage, Leng Yue had woken up. She remained in a prone position, her black K9 suit like a shadow in the dim light. Behind the semi-transparent black lace mask, her once sharp eyes were now filled with a dead, numb stillness. She watched Tang Xiaoyou, watched her clumsy crawl, watched her drool trail behind her, her gaze devoid of pity, of mockery, of anything. It was as if she were looking at something completely unrelated to herself. In the two adjacent cages in the middle, Xiao Wen had also woken up. She was curled up next to Su Xiaoyao, her pink and white K9 suit stained with dried saliva. Her eyes behind the mask were open and vacant, looking at Tang Xiaoyou, but also as if seeing nothing. She tilted her head, emitting a faint, confused whimper from her throat, as if wondering: What is this newcomer doing? Su Xiaoyao was different. As the "Chief," she had already adjusted her posture—her back was low, her hips were high, and her tail wagged happily. Her pale blue K9 suit looked exceptionally exquisite in the morning light, the rivets on her collar glinting. She watched Tang Xiaoyou, her eyes filled with a clear sense of welcome. As if she were happily welcoming a new little female dog into the pack. Or perhaps demonstrating: See, this is how you should crawl, arch your back low, lift your ass high, and wag your tail. She even let out that fawning, weak whimper from her throat, as if saying to Su Muning: Master, I am better than her, I am more obedient. Tang Xiaoyou felt intensely uncomfortable under their gazes. She could feel their eyes constantly roaming over every shameful part of her body. (They're looking...) (Looking at this bitch-like appearance of mine...) (Looking at how I crawl, how I drool, how I'm led by the leash...) Shame washed over her like a tide, drowning her. Tang Xiaoyou's eyes slowly swept across the room, her crimson pupils dilating. The entire wall to her left was adorned with, stood against, or leaned upon countless implements of discipline, some familiar, others entirely new. Whips. Not one or two, but an entire row. From slender, willow-like strands to finger-thick leather crops, to thicker, braided rattan, and then to those heavy, multi-tailed cat o' nine tails... all arranged neatly by thickness and length, like exhibits in a museum. Beside the whips were various metal restraints. Cervical collars. Heavy metal rings, lined with black leather on the inside, with clasps of fine steel that looked impossible to open once secured. Wrist and ankle cuffs. Also metal, some simple rings, some with chains, some even designed with adjustable sizes. And then, the more terrifying – a full-body restraint, an "anthropomorphic iron cage" frame. It was welded from metal tubes of varying thickness, precisely outlining a human form, covered in clasps and straps. One could imagine a person placed within that frame, fixed from head to toe, unable to move even a finger. Various shaped stocks stood against the wall. A crucifix. Wooden, its surface polished smooth, but the edges showed wear marks from prolonged use. An X-frame. With more cunning angles, capable of holding a person in an extremely shameful, limbs-spread-wide posture. A single-leg suspension device. An iron chain hanging from the ceiling, ending in an ornate shackle. And then there were those bizarrely shaped objects – some like chairs, but without seats, only metal rods; some like tables, but with tilted surfaces and adjustable supports; some were simply cage frames welded from steel pipes, but narrower and more suffocating than sleeping cages. Tang Xiaoyou's gaze continued to move. She saw the thick hemp rope hanging from the ceiling. The rope was thick, about as thick as her wrist, with a complex knot at the end. It was for suspension – to hang someone, their entire weight supported by that single rope, a state of pain and shame. Beside it was another long rope. Thinner, about two fingers wide, its ends secured to hooks on either side of the room, pulled taut, about thirty centimeters off the ground. Most terrifyingly, this rope had distinct knots tied at regular intervals. The word "tightrope" automatically surfaced in Tang Xiaoyou's mind. And the subsequent imagination followed – being forced to tiptoe on that rope, the rough hemp digging deeply into the most tender flesh between her legs, each step of the way, the knots brutally grinding against her most sensitive core... She shivered. Her gaze moved again. A wooden horse. That cold, conical wooden apparatus stood silently in the corner. Its surface was polished smooth, yet it appeared menacing under the light. One could imagine the sensation of straddling it – the sharp wooden edges digging deeply into the cunt, the heavier the weight, the deeper the penetration, the more one struggled, the stronger the pleasure! And then there were those uniquely shaped items. Devices connected to tubes and glass bottles, presumably enema equipment. Anal beads and dilators of various sizes, arranged from small to large. Bizarrely shaped vibrators, some with raised nubs, some curved, some even forked... Tang Xiaoyou's breathing grew increasingly rapid. But it wasn't over yet. Because afternoons were always "training time." Su Muning would transform, as if possessed by another being. The gentle expression would vanish from her face, replaced by a cool, professional demeanor. She would then apply tighter restraints to Tang Xiaoyou – the ropes of the Kikkō-shibari would be cinched to their absolute limit, the straps on her wrists and ankles fastened to the last notch, and sometimes new restraints would be introduced. For instance, the "single-leg suspension." Su Muning would bend Tang Xiaoyou's left leg backward, hoisting it high with red ropes, forcing her to support herself on her right knee. This position would twist her hips to one side, exposing her inner thighs completely. The sense of imbalance and shame made her want to die every time. Or then there was the "Yotsumata-shibari." Her hands and feet would be bound together in a more intricate manner, her entire body folded like a piece of origami. She could only lie on her side or stomach, completely immobilized. And a variation of the "Ushiro-te Kan'non-shibari" – her arms would be pulled back to their extreme, wrists hoisted high behind her back, forcing her chest to arch forward, making her breasts, already swollen and prominent from the ropes, stand out even more. The restraints were merely the prelude. The real training involved an endless stream of novel and inventive "toy lessons." Su Muning seemed to possess an inexhaustible toy chest, producing something new each day. One day, for example, she brought out a pair of "vibrating nipple clamps." These were no ordinary clamps. They were two exquisite silver rings, lined with fine soft spikes and tiny electrodes on the inside. Su Muning threaded them through Tang Xiaoyou's already exquisitely sensitive nipples, and fastened them tight. Then she pressed the remote control. The rings began to vibrate at varying frequencies, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes strong, sometimes weak. The soft spikes inside gently scraped the tender flesh of her nipples, while the electrodes emitted a faint current. The sensation… Tang Xiaoyou couldn't describe it. It wasn't pure pain, nor pure pleasure, but a complex stimulation that blended stinging, tingling, ecstasy, and shame. Her nipples, already hypersensitive from prolonged stimulation, were now pierced, vibrated, and electrified by these rings, making them unbearably sensitive, driving her mad. With every vibration, her body would involuntarily arch, and a sweet whimper would escape her throat. Her nipples, stimulated by the rings, hardened like pebbles, clearly visible and trembling beneath the black lace. Su Muning would make her wear these nipple clamps for various exercises. During "presentations," the clamps would vibrate more intensely, urging her to spread her legs wider. When told to "lie down," the clamps would emit a mild electric current as punishment for an imperfect posture. If she performed correctly, the clamps would switch to a gentle massage mode as a reward. Tang Xiaoyou's body quickly "learned" – what postures and reactions would make these tormenting little devices a little gentler. Another day, Su Muning unveiled a "dildo machine." It was a silver-gray mechanical device, intricately constructed, topped with a thick, realistic dildo. The surface of the dildo was covered in raised bumps and ring-shaped textures, its size astonishing. The moment Tang Xiaoyou saw it, her legs went weak. But Su Muning didn't use it immediately. First, she prepared Tang Xiaoyou. She produced a long, progressive dilator, starting with the smallest size, and gradually opening Tang Xiaoyou's tight anus. The process was lengthy and humiliating. Tang Xiaoyou lay on the rack, her buttocks raised high, feeling the cold metal slowly penetrate deeper into her body. Once dilated to the sufficient size, Su Muning switched to the dildo. But she didn't turn the machine on. And now, she knelt on the ground, dressed in this latex cheongsam with JK uniform elements, adopting the most humiliating posture, having become Su Muning's most meticulously trained pet bitch. From hunter to prey, from human to bitch, from "Tang Xiaoyou" to "Youyou." This outfit was the tangible mockery of it all. Beneath the cheongsam, her body was filled and restrained by more implements. A custom-made leather thong was tightly wedged between her legs. The front of the thong was a small triangular piece of leather, just enough to cover her most private parts, but the covering was superficial—the inner side of the thong was embedded with two rows of fine silicone bumps. Every slight movement of her body caused these bumps to rub against her most sensitive clitoris and folds, bringing an undeniable stimulation. The thong wrapped around from the front, passed through her butt crack, and connected to the waist cincher at the small of her back. The strap at the rear also had built-in bumps, firmly lodged between her buttocks, bringing a shameful friction with any change in posture. And beneath that strap, both of her private entrances were firmly filled. Her front honey hole was plugged with a smart vibrator—a custom product from Su Muning, perfectly sized to fill her canal, not too large to cause pain, nor too small to create a sense of emptiness. The vibrator's built-in program was particularly cruel; it monitored her heart rate and, upon detecting her nearing the edge of orgasm, would automatically lower its frequency, suspending her at that maddening threshold. Her rear little hole was occupied by a fluffy tail butt plug. The fluffy silver-white tail perfectly matched her hair color, measuring a full thirty centimeters in length, with soft and smooth fur. The head of the butt plug was a string of silicone beads, ranging from small to large—five beads in total, the smallest no bigger than a fingertip, the largest as big as an egg. These beads were now all buried inside her, filling her rear passage, allowing her to constantly feel that sensation of being full and stretched. A small vibrator was also built into the metal base of the tail, currently operating in a low-frequency mode, causing the beads inside to tremble gently. And Su Muning seemed to have grown tired of the unchanging little bitch~ so she decided to try some new, good (lustful) and (erotic) tricks~ Now her limbs were tightly bound by a set of modified Japanese rope bondage. Her arms were bound in a variation of the "back-hand Kannon" tie—her hands were clasped behind her back, wrists crossed, and tightly secured with pink silk ropes. The ropes extended from her wrists, binding her forearms together, pressing them close. Then the ropes continued upwards, with several more wraps around her elbows, ensuring her arms could not be separated at all. This binding forced her shoulders back, consequently pushing her breasts up even more prominently. The ropes extending from her wrists were not finished—they climbed upwards, binding over her shoulders, then passed under her armpits, and were tied once above and once below her breasts, forming a tight "breast harness" structure. These two rope loops squeezed her exposed breasts into a more swollen and full shape. Combined with the design of the cut-out latex cheongsam, her entire chest looked like a meticulously wrapped gift. After her arms were bound, she was also fitted with a pair of pink latex gloves. The gloves tightly encased her from elbows to fingertips. Once the zippers were pulled up, her hands were completely confined within that small space, unable to separate or extend. The ends of the gloves were designed with a rounded curve, making her hands look like two cute little pads—or rather, paws. A metal ring at the top of each glove was now connected by a short chain to the waist cincher at the small of her back, ensuring her hands remained fixed behind her. Her legs were bound in the classic "M-spread" tie. Her thighs and calves were tied together with pink silk ropes, forcing her knees to remain bent. The ropes were wrapped several times around her upper thighs, just above and below her knees, the middle of her calves, and her ankles, each wrap pulled tight, leaving faint red marks on her fair skin. After her legs were secured in a bent position by the ropes, they were forcibly spread apart by a horizontal metal bar—an adjustable stainless steel spreader. Straps on both ends were buckled to her upper thighs, fixing her legs at their widest possible angle. This posture exposed the spring scenery between her legs, concealed by the leather thong, without reservation. Her feet were encased in a pair of custom-made horseshoe high heels—not for walking, of course, but purely for aesthetics and restraint. The shoes were made of pink and white patent leather, with terrifyingly high heels, a full fifteen centimeters. The toe of the shoe was designed in a rounded horseshoe shape, and the interior construction forced her toes to curl together, her instep stretched straight. Even if she wanted to stand up, these shoes would make it impossible for her to maintain balance—she could only kneel or crawl. Several straps were also attached to the shoes, extending down to below her knees, encasing her entire calves and further restricting her mobility. Her head had not escaped meticulous "decoration" either. An exquisite horse-bit gag firmly occupied the lower half of her face. The main body of the gag was a pink rubber ball, covered in ventilation holes, ensuring she could breathe but not utter clear sounds. The ball was held in her mouth by a strap, its ends tied tightly behind her head, pushing the ball deep into her mouth. Another strap extended upwards from the metal rings on either side of the ball, pressing across her cheeks, meeting at the bridge of her nose, and then crossing over her head, finally connecting to the main strap at the back of her head. These two straps secured the gag even more firmly to her face. The entire horse-bit gag fit her face snugly, allowing her to only make muffled "whimpering" sounds, making even swallowing saliva difficult. Saliva trickled down from her stretched lips, flowed along her chin, and dripped onto the mat, forming a small puddle. Beyond the gag, she also wore a pair of fluffy pink and white dog ears on her head. These were decorations fixed to a headband, their soft fur complementing her long, silver-white hair. Small motion sensors were built into the dog ears, causing them to twitch slightly with her head movements and emotional changes, making them appear lifelike. All of this combined made her look less like a "person" and more like a meticulously crafted... erotic pet bitch doll.

Come. It was a specially made pet bed—soft pink fleece on the surface, memory foam at the bottom, with edges that curled up slightly, forming a warm embrace. The bed was just the right size for her to curl up into a ball, like a real puppy. She opened her eyes, her red pupils still hazy from just waking up. The first thought that came to mind wasn't "Where am I?" or "Who am I?". It was— (Master... will be here soon, right?) This thought carried a vague, instinctive anticipation, as natural as a puppy lying by the door waiting for its owner to return. She couldn't remember when this transformation began. Perhaps it was after the "special companionship" three days ago, or maybe even earlier. In any case, every day now began with "waiting for Master." It seemed to have become the most important thing in her life—more important than eating, more important than sleeping, even more important than breathing. She curled up in the bed, her body still in the sleeping position. Today, she was still wearing the same pink and white K9 basic set—after wearing it for so long, this restraint had long become a part of her body. The latex bodysuit clung tightly to her every inch of skin, encasing her from neck to ankle. The semi-transparent pink and white fabric had a soft sheen in the morning light, faintly revealing the contours of her fair skin underneath. The chest area of the bodysuit was cut open with two circular holes, exposing her full breasts. After long-term "training," those two mounds of snow-white flesh had become even more sensitive than before, trembling slightly at the slightest stimulation. At this moment, the cool morning air brushed against her exposed skin, causing her nipples to involuntarily harden. The smart nipple rings were still on her nipples. The rose gold metal rings bit into her tender nipples, maintaining a very low frequency vibration even in sleep mode, keeping those two points in a constant state of slight engorgement. This was Su Muning's request—her "Youyou" had to be kept in the most sensitive and easily pleased state at all times. The lower part of the bodysuit also had a cruel design. The crotch was completely hollowed out, exposing her most private parts. A thin pink strap went around from the front, passed between her legs, and was secured in her butt crack, connecting to the waist belt at the small of her back. The silicone protrusion embedded on the inner side of the strap pressed precisely against her clitoris, causing a subtle friction with every movement of her body. Her front and back holes were still filled with toys. Her honey hole was stuffed with a smart vibrator—smaller than the previous thick vibrator, but more precise in its stimulation. The vibrator was positioned exactly on her most sensitive spot, and even in sleep mode, it would release a slight pulse at intervals, keeping her body in a constant state of faint craving. Her back hole was filled with the anal plug tail that had become her signature. Five silicone beads, from small to large, were deeply embedded in her body, gently rolling with her unconscious body movements. The tail was a fluffy silver-white fur, perfectly matching her hair color, extending from her butt crack for a good thirty centimeters. She had a habit of curling up when she slept, so the tail would rest on her thigh, just like a real puppy. Her limbs were encased in specially made K9 limb covers. Her arms were folded and bound from the shoulders down—her upper and lower arms were tightly tied together with pink restraints, and then covered with latex limb covers. The ends of the limb covers were shaped into rounded paw pads, preventing her from opening her fingers, forcing her to crawl on her "elbows." Her legs were also folded and fixed. Her thighs and calves were tied together with restraints, and her knees were protected by soft pads, allowing her to kneel and crawl for extended periods without injury. Her ankles were fitted with pink leather ankle cuffs, adorned with small bells that jingled with every movement. She wore the exquisite pink leather collar around her neck. The metal tag on the front of the collar glinted in the morning light, its engraved name clearly visible—"Youyou." A small bell hung below the collar, echoing the bells on her ankles. She also wore a pair of fluffy pink and white dog ears on her head, attached to a headband, blending in with her messy silver-white long hair. This was her current appearance. A meticulously dressed, adorable pet. This attire—at one time—had been her deepest humiliation. She still remembered the feeling of being put into this K9 gear for the first time. The rage of having her personhood stripped away, the shame of being forced to accept the identity of a "pet," the unwillingness of a "proud collector to fall to this extent..."

"Oh my, Yoyo, what happened here?" She walked over and crouched down, her voice full of indulgence. Tang Xiaoyou looked up, her face flushed, gazing at her owner pitifully. Her tail tried to wag but was tangled in lace, managing only a few small sweeps. Su Muning reached out and began to tidy her up. Those slender fingers expertly untangled the lace wrapped around her tail, smoothing out each strap, and then put on the set piece by piece—first the close-fitting bondage undergarment, tightening the waistline, perfectly cinching her slender waist. Then came the outer "school uniform" main body, white fabric covering the upper body, but the cutout design at the chest allowed two soft mounds of flesh to squeeze out from the gaps in the crisscrossed ribbons, forming a full curve. The nipple rings were readjusted, hanging precisely in the center where the ribbons crossed, swaying gently with each breath. The plaid decorative strips at the waistline were carefully aligned, deep blue and wine red checks arranged along the waist, fastened with hidden snaps at the sides. The hips remained an open design, her tail sticking out from the rear, while the hem of the set hung down on either side of her butt crack in short pieces of plaid fabric, like a very short pleated skirt, offering almost no coverage and becoming even more erotic due to the tantalizing glimpses. The limb covers on her limbs were not changed, but the clasps were new—changing from ordinary black to silver, etched with fine patterns. Finally, Su Muning picked up the small bow and sewed it onto the bottom of the collar. The deep blue satin bow lay snugly against her throat, echoing the plaid skirt hem. Throughout the entire changing process, Su Muning's movements were gentle and precise, as if dressing an exquisite doll. After she was dressed, she took two steps back and surveyed

The first thing that caught her eye was the poster on the wall. An anime girl with short blue hair, dressed in a maid outfit, with a gentle expression. Next to the poster, on a shelf, were several exquisite figurines, all of the same character, in different poses and outfits. The lighting was a warm orange, softer than in the hallway. The floor was covered with thick, plush padding, off-white, which should feel comfortable to step on. In the corner was a dog bed—considerably larger than Tang Xiaoyou's, with a thicker cushion and a low, soft railing around the edge, like a small, exquisite dog bed. And in the center of the room, on the plush padding, lay a female dog. No—a person was lying there. Wrong. Tang Xiaoyou's mind no longer had the concept of "person." In her eyes, it was a female dog, just like herself. A very beautiful female dog. Su Xiaoyao had the most stunning figure Tang Xiaoyou had ever seen. Even in a quadrupedal crawling posture, one could see the astonishing proportions of her body—her waist was so slender it looked like it would break, yet her hips were round and full. Her breasts were excessively abundant, squeezed by the low-cut design of the bondage vest, spilling over the upper edge, trembling slightly with each breath. The K9 suit she wore was in a light blue and white color scheme, the fabric possessing a slight sheen that gave off a soft glow under the warm light. The bondage vest clung tightly to her upper body, from just below her collarbone to her waist, cinched at the back with several thin leather straps, making her already delicate curves even more defined. The front opening of the vest was very low, almost revealing the edges of her areolas, with only two crossed blue satin ribbons maintaining the last shred of "coverage." Her limbs were fixed in a crawling position by semi-rigid metal rods. The rods extended from her elbows to her wrists, and from her knees to her ankles, allowing no possibility of extension. Her hands were encased in white mittens, her fingers held together, forming the shape of "paws." Her feet were clad in K9 crawling boots, her toes forced into a pointe, as if perpetually on tiptoe. Around her neck was a light blue leather collar, with a silver D-ring on the front, and the small character "Yao" engraved on the collar. Behind her, a blue cat tail butt plug protruded from between her buttocks, fluffy and soft, swaying gently with her movements. She lay there, her posture relaxed and natural, like a feline dozing in the afternoon. Something seemed to be operating at a low frequency inside the vest—Tang Xiaoyou could faintly hear a very faint humming sound—but Su Xiaoyao's expression was completely calm, with even a hint of lazy contentment at the corners of her mouth, showing no signs of stimulation. That composure made Tang Xiaoyou inexplicably feel... amazing. The moment Su Ningning stepped into the room, Su Xiaoyao reacted. Her ears—not real ears, but the blue headband ears she wore—seemed to twitch, and then the entire female dog immediately shifted from a prone position to a kneeling one, turning towards the door. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Su Ningning. Not the simple brightness of Tang Xiaoyou's eyes, but a deeper, purer radiance, as if refined through some process. She crawled over quickly, her movements fast yet elegant, her limbs cooperating seamlessly despite the restriction of the metal rods. Reaching Su Ningning's feet, she raised her head and gently rubbed her face against her owner's calf, emitting soft, cat-like whimpers. Her tail wagged furiously behind her, the blue fluff tracing arcs in the air. Her eyes looked at Su Ningning, with nothing complicated within them. No hate. No struggle. No forbearance. No pretense. Only the unreserved dependence and joy of a pet towards its owner. As clean as a mirror. Su Ningning squatted down, cupped Su Xiaoyao's face in her hands, and gently stroked her cheekbones with her thumbs. "Good girl, Xiaoyao~ Did you miss your owner?" Su Xiaoyao rubbed her palm forcefully, emitting a contented purr from her throat. Su Ningning smiled, then turned sideways, revealing Tang Xiaoyou behind her. "Come, meet your new sister. This is Youyou."

The display case was transparent, and inside stood a... doll? No. A person? She wasn't sure. It was a young woman, held in a standing position, but this "standing" was unlike that of an ordinary person. Her body was fixed to a thick metal pole in the center of the case – the pole passed through her legs and upwards, penetrating deep into her lower abdomen. Her entire weight rested on this pole, her feet suspended, only her tiptoes barely touching the soft padding at the bottom of the case. Her attire was strange. A heavily modified, unrecognizable light blue JK sailor uniform – calling it a "swimsuit" was more like a few pieces of fabric barely held together by strings, serving

"They've taken good care of you, I see." Her voice held the satisfied tone of an owner inspecting her possessions. Almost as soon as the words left her lips, Xiao Yao reacted. She wore a cute, puffy "bitch" costume, but beneath the skirt lay intricate Shibari ropes and a crotchless design. She immediately tilted her head back, her mouth fixed by a gag emitting eager, fawning whines. Her tail wagged furiously, and she even tried to prop herself up on her bound elbows to nuzzle Su Mu Ning's toes dangling over the edge of the tatami. Her eyes sparkled with unreserved adoration and longing, as if her mistress's touch were the only blessing. Xiao Wen followed suit. Her movements were less enthusiastic than Xiao Yao's but carried a steady obedience. She lay quietly, lifting her head to gaze at Su Mu Ning with gentle eyes. Then, she subtly shifted her body, showcasing the curves of her more tightly bound form—a "crab binding" that accentuated her figure, making her appear like a captured prey. Her gaze, however, would occasionally, almost imperceptibly, flick towards Xiao Yao, ensuring her actions remained within certain unspoken boundaries. For her, pleasing the mistress was a necessary means to remain by Xiao Yao's side; her obedience was imbued with a clear purpose. Leng Yue was the last to react. Her "back-facing Guanyin" binding prevented her from making any significant movements. The moment she heard Su Mu Ning's voice, her body stiffened for an instant before her consciousness could catch up. A long-forgotten sensation, a mixture of fear, shame, and an indescribable thrill, seized her. "No... don't look at me..." her residual reason protested weakly. But her body, a body that had been trained countless times, imprinted with deep instincts, defied that meager will. Her waist softened involuntarily, her legs, forced open, trembled slightly, and a weak yet sweet moan, unfamiliar even to herself, escaped the depths of her throat. What embarrassed her most was when she saw Su Mu Ning's hand first caress Xiao Yao's head; her heart clenched as if squeezed by something, a sour pang of... jealousy? "I... I can do it too... I can make her happy too..." The thought slithered into her mind like a venomous snake. She broke out in a cold sweat, startled by this sudden, competitive urge, followed by an overwhelming wave of self-loathing. Leng Yue, look at yourself, what are you thinking?! You're jealous of a bitch who knows how to wag her tail better?! Su Mu Ning seemed to sense her subtle emotional shift and turned her gaze towards Leng Yue, a hint of inquiry in her eyes. "Leng Yue," she said, her voice not loud but clear enough to reach Leng Yue's ears, "it seems you need further... integration." She clapped her hands softly. A section of the wall on one side of the room slid open silently, revealing a uniquely arranged area behind it. Today's theme appeared to be "human horses." Three metal stands, side-by-side, resembling saddles but equipped with complex restraints, stood there. Mechanical arms moved forward and began adjusting their bindings. Leng Yue was freed from the "back-facing Guanyin" but was immediately re-bound in the "four-horse binding"—her wrists and ankles were pulled back and connected by a rope, suspending her. This forced her body into an arch, her chest high, her buttocks protruding, her entire posture like that of a tamed pony. Leather restraints secured her waist and chest, firmly binding her to the cold metal stand. A leather horse mask was placed on her head, revealing only her mouth and chin, and a heavy bit with reins was inserted into her mouth. A nose ring gently clipped her septum, bringing a slight sense of pressure and foreignness, a reminder of her non-human status. Xiao Yao and Xiao Wen were also secured in a similar manner. Xiao Yao seemed exceptionally excited, emitting muffled whinnies behind the bit, her body swaying slightly as if eager to "run." Xiao Wen bore it quietly, her breathing only slightly accelerated. "Let's go, my little horses," Su Mu Ning gently tugged on the reins connected to the bit. Leng Yue felt a forward pull from her mouth, forcing her to move her bound legs in small steps. With each step, the arched position brought aching muscles, and the bit pressed against her tongue and mouth, saliva uncontrollably dribbling down her chin and along the reins. Humiliation washed over her again like a cold tide. She was led like livestock, circling the room. Her vision was restricted, her body contorted, and the only guidance was the rein in her mouth that dictated her direction. Su Mu Ning seemed to be in a playful mood. She would occasionally jiggle the reins, urging them to speed up, or tighten them, making them stop. She even picked up a soft riding crop and lightly swished it against their protruding buttocks, producing crisp "swish" sounds and leaving faint red marks. Each strike was accompanied by a stinging pain and a deeper, thrilling tremor of being controlled. After a few laps, they were fixed in place. Su Mu Ning picked up a specially designed bottle connected to a thin, flexible tube and approached Xiao Yao. This was the "forced swallowing" training. She aimed the bottle opening at Xiao Yao's mouth, propped open by the bit, and slowly injected the liquid food. Xiao Yao obediently, even eagerly, tilted her head back and swallowed, her throat working, emitting satisfied gurgles. When it was Leng Yue's turn, she instinctively tried to close her mouth, but the bit made it impossible. As the cool liquid flooded her throat, she felt a suffocating fear and nausea. "Don't... spit it out..." she desperately told herself, but her body's survival instinct forced her to swallow passively, awkwardly. Excess liquid spilled from the corners of her mouth, mixing with saliva and soiling her chin and chest. This sensation was more primal, more inhuman than licking like a dog. She looked at Su Mu Ning's face, so close, with an appreciative smile, feeling a sense of powerlessness and a strange, twisted desire to submit—if obedience could end this pain, if swallowing could bring a moment of peace... The subsequent "entertainment" time was themed "human furniture" display. Leng Yue was freed from the "four-horse binding" but was immediately placed inside a cold, "human-shaped iron cage" meticulously crafted to her body's contours. The cage was ingeniously designed to fix her in a "M-spread leg binding" posture, with her limbs and torso tightly secured by cold metal rings, leaving only her head and parts of her skin exposed. She became a living, erotic sculpture, placed in a prominent spot in the room, serving as a "table" for fruit and wine glasses. Xiao Yao was molded into a kneeling "lamp stand," her hands bound behind her back, a ring around her neck connected to a hanging lamp above. Xiao Wen became a "vase stand," her body bent into an extreme arc, supporting a delicate vase. Su Mu Ning sat by the table "played" by Leng Yue, leisurely sipping wine, occasionally placing a cold grape on Leng Yue's bare abdomen. The cold touch made Leng Yue's skin contract. Leng Yue remained motionless, even her breathing lightened. She watched her mistress's hand nearby, the swirling liquid in the wine glass, smelled the faint aroma of wine and flowers in the air, her mind a dead, numb void. Let it be this way, an object, no need to think, no need to feel, just exist, be used. Even her defiance and shame seemed to have lost their sharp edges in this extreme objectification. That night, when everything was over, and the mechanical arms began their pre-sleep relaxation massage, Leng Yue no longer showed the panicked resistance she had last time. She lay quietly, feeling the precisely applied pressure alleviate the muscle fatigue from the "four-horse binding" and the "human iron cage." When the mechanical arm massaged her sore neck and shoulders, strained from prolonged suspension, she even emitted a barely perceptible, sigh-like, contented hum. This time, she didn't startle awake, nor did she feel disgust. It was as if the last thin layer of ice, under the daily, meticulous "care" and all-encompassing control, had finally melted away silently. She turned her head and saw Xiao Yao sleeping soundly beside her, her face a picture of complete relaxation and dependence. Xiao Wen also had her eyes closed, her breathing steady. Leng Yue looked at them, then at the small indicator lights on the ceiling, blinking rhythmically, signifying system operation. Her gaze was vacant, yet seemed to hold a strange calmness. The soul named "Leng Yue" seemed to have truly departed. What remained was a perfectly trained, deeply imprinted body, and an empty shell accustomed to being dominated, even finding a twisted peace in that domination. She was "Mu Ning's exclusive bitch," a "walking toilet," a "human horse," "living furniture"... She could be anything her mistress needed, except herself.