Master's Pet Kitten

The afternoon sun cast a lazy glow on the small cat. Li Mo knelt on a soft cushion, a thin silver chain attached to the leather collar around her neck, its end held in her Master's hand. She wore a fluffy white bodysuit, its cuffs and ankles trimmed with plush fur, making her look like a little kitten curled up on the carpet. The bodysuit was made of a special coral fleece, soft as clouds against her skin, radiating a comforting warmth that made her instinctively draw her shoulders back, seeking a more comfortable position. As her Master's fingers traced the skin behind her ear, Li Mo's eyes fluttered shut in comfort, her nose twitching slightly. That spot was exquisitely sensitive. Her Master's nails, trimmed smooth and round, brushed against her hair, creating a faint tickle that traveled down her spine to her hips. The bell on her collar chimed, "ding-a-ling," like wind chimes on a spring eaves, mingling with the soft moans escaping her lips. This was the moment she had longed for – to shed all identities, to become a pet who only needed to obey, free from the worries of tomorrow's work reports or the complexities of human relationships, existing only to feel the security of her Master's touch. "Good girl," her Master's voice, laced with amusement, placed a roll of pale pink ribbon on the low table before her. The ribbon's edge was embroidered with silver paw prints, clearly made for her. Li Mo immediately extended her wrists, palms up, her eyes filled with anticipation, her breathing softening. Her Master picked up the ribbon, fingers brushing the delicate skin of her inner wrist, where faint blue veins pulsed beneath the thin surface, causing Li Mo to tremble slightly. The ribbon wound around her forearm in a spiral, tightening gently with each turn, leaving faint impressions. The end was tied into a small bow, complementing the plush trim of her bodysuit. She flexed her fingers, the restraint of the ribbon providing a perfect balance of awareness and comfort, a sense of being safely held. The toys her Master brought were all in gentle hues. Soft, padded paw covers were fitted onto her knuckles, their pointed tips wrapped in cotton, feeling like peeled marshmallows. With the paw covers on, Li Mo's fingers could only curl halfway, like a cat retracting its claws. As her Master adjusted the tightness, she obediently raised her hands, palms facing herself, gazing at the pink paw covers. A furry tail accessory was tied at her waist, its tip adorned with a small pom-pom. When her Master replaced her collar with one featuring a bell, Li Mo proactively lowered her head, allowing the clasp to fasten smoothly, her chin brushing against her Master's hand like a gesture of affection. The bell on the collar emitted a rapid jingle, as if responding to her endearment. The process of binding felt more like a gentle ritual. Her Master brought over a low stool with a padded seat and gestured for Li Mo to stand on it. Her bare feet met the cushion, her toes curling, feeling the fine texture beneath. Her Master gently gathered her ankles together with beige hemp rope, the knot loose enough to allow movement but preventing large strides, forcing her to move in small, cat-like steps. As the rope wrapped around her ankles, its fibers brushed against the plush of her bodysuit, creating a soft rustling sound that harmonized with the chiming of her collar. Then came her knees. Her Master wrapped the rope three times above her knees, leaving enough slack for her to bend them. The knot was tied in a petal shape, hanging to the side like a blooming cotton flower. The ribbon on her back crossed with the hemp rope in a diamond pattern, leaving a deliberate gap along her spine to ensure her breathing was unobstructed. The ends of the ribbon swayed gently at her waist with each breath. Li Mo remained standing, allowing herself to be positioned, tiny fibers from her bodysuit clinging to her eyelashes, making her appear vulnerable. Yet, with every touch from her Master, a spark of contentment flickered in her eyes. "Hands out," her Master commanded. Li Mo obediently raised her ribbon-bound hands. A massage brush with soft bristles gently swept across her palm. The tips of the bristles were rounded, and the tingling sensation made her curl her fingers, but she didn't withdraw them, instead straightening her palm further. The brush handle traced up her arm, gliding over the ribbon's bow, circling her shoulder. The muscles there, stiff from maintaining the same posture, gradually relaxed under the brush's vibration. Her body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the profound sense of peace that came with being controlled, as if every nerve had found its rightful place, no longer needing to brace against the storms of the outside world. In the storage box by the wall lay an assortment of toys: a glowing collar that emitted a soft blue light in the dark, anklets with bells that jingled with every step, and a vibrating massage ball with three different frequencies. Her Master opened the box, and Li Mo's ears twitched, like a wary kitten. Her Master picked up a pink ball and placed it in her hand. "Hold it." Li Mo's fingers tightened, and the ball's vibration transmitted through her palm, faint yet distinct, like a tiny bee buzzing. She lowered her head, looking at her bound wrists and the hand holding the ball. The ribbon bow on her wrist trembled slightly with the vibration, and the corners of her mouth involuntarily turned upwards – this was the state she had dreamed of, pure obedience, pure possession, no need to ponder meaning or seek value, simply finding her place within her Master's gaze. "Scared now?" Feifei increased the current, watching the soles of the bound person's feet flush red. Fine beads of sweat seeped from where the electrode pads met the skin, mixing with the residual aloe vera gel to form a sticky conductive medium, making the current's power even more pronounced. The shadow of the rack cast shifting patterns on their trembling body, like a distorted silhouette. By the time they were moved to the dog cage, their legs were as weak as noodles. This was a specially made cage, with inwardly protruding ridges welded to the bars and a non-slip rubber mat on the floor, its fine texture palpable underfoot. Feifei secured their wrists and ankles to four rings on the cage walls. The chains were just long enough to keep them in a semi-crouched position, knees pressed against the cage floor; any slack would result in a painful tightening. The crack of the whip was particularly sharp in the studio. Feifei had chosen a soft whip with small holes. When it struck the buttocks, the air whistling through the holes produced a "shuu" sound, followed by the dull thud of leather meeting fabric. The bound person's body tensed as if sprung, pain shooting up their spine. Restricted by their posture, they couldn't dodge, forced to endure each lash, the cage ridges pressing red marks into their back. The whip marks gradually merged into a patch of flushed skin. Feifei suddenly stopped, unfastened the restraints, and adjusted their position. They rotated the bound person ninety degrees, seating them on the cage floor, their head and arms extending through a square opening in the bars. Their neck and wrists were then re-secured to a frame outside the cage. This position forced their chest against the cold cage bars, each breath a chilling sensation that mingled with the burning pain in their buttocks, a torment of ice and fire. "Time for a change of scenery," Feifei said, pushing the cage through the corridor, the wheels rumbling with a "gurgling" sound on the floor. The basement door was a heavy iron slab. Pushing it open released a gust of air thick with the smell of mold and rust, a dampness that made the bound person shiver. There were no windows; the only light came from a blast-proof lamp overhead, casting a dim, tea-colored glow. The cage was fixed in the center of the basement. The concrete walls around them were slick with fine droplets of water, and shallow puddles on the floor reflected the swaying light. Feifei inserted a small vibrator into a gap at the bottom of the cage. When switched on, a low hum permeated the cage walls, sending a continuous tremor through the bound person's buttocks, compounding the previous whip pain. The eye mask was a thick piece of velvet. The moment it covered their eyes, darkness washed over their consciousness like a tide. Their hearing sharpened, amplifying the sound of their own heartbeat echoing in the empty basement, weaving with the hum of the vibrator and the dripping of water from the walls into a [X] melody. In the damp air, the burning pain on their skin and the ache in their muscles were magnified infinitely, each second feeling like wading through mud. "Don't even think about begging," Feifei's voice came from outside the door, carrying a final, cold ultimatum. "The soundproofing here is excellent. Scream your lungs out, and no one will hear." As the iron door slammed shut with a "clang," the bound person's body trembled violently, not from fear, but from the realization that in this damp corner, cut off from light and sound, all defiance had become a futile struggle. The vibrator's frequency suddenly increased. Feifei had adjusted the setting before leaving. The high-frequency vibrations made the bound person's teeth chatter uncontrollably, but there was nothing to bite down on, leaving them to let the force spread through their bones, tangling their nerves into a mess. The whip marks on their buttocks throbbed with the vibrations, intertwining with the lingering numbness in their soles and the tightness around their neck, forming a suffocating net. The temperature in the basement gradually rose, the humid air becoming stifling, like a damp quilt wrapped around them. Sweat beaded on their forehead, trickling down their temples and soaking the velvet eye mask, bringing a sticky, clammy heat. They began to struggle unconsciously, their arms rubbing against the external frame, only causing the restraints to tighten further. The pain in their wrists was a constant reminder of their inescapable predicament. Time lost its measure, the vibrator's hum becoming the sole chronometer. The bound person's consciousness wavered between clarity and haziness. Sometimes they could feel water droplets falling from the ceiling, hitting the cage walls with a crisp sound; other times, they sank into chaos, only the discomfort from various parts of their body remaining, like countless fine needles slowly piercing them. When the iron door opened again, the harsh light made the bound person instinctively turn their head away. Feifei stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, their expression unreadable, only their voice clear: "Have you thought it through?" The bound person's lips moved, but no complete syllables emerged. The dryness in their throat allowed only a hoarse gasp. In the damp basement, the vibrator continued its tireless work, as if playing the final note of this taming ritual. The bound person's body had completely relaxed, the initial defiance gone, replaced by an exhaustion that had drained all strength. Perhaps in this isolated corner, they had finally understood—some provocations were destined to come with a price. Zi Xuan sat in a specially made metal chair, her wrists and ankles secured to the legs by leather straps. The buckles were tightened to the extreme, their edges digging into her skin, creating a constant sensation of pressure. Her white straitjacket was made of canvas, with tightened knots at the collar and cuffs, wrapping her tightly from shoulders to knees, leaving only her neck and ankles exposed. On a nearby rack lay neatly folded black latex items, emitting a faint rubbery scent. The person in the white coat approached, picking up a latex mask with an elastic band around the edges and two small holes in the center for breathing. "Relax, it's just a routine check," their voice was flat, devoid of emotion. Zi Xuan's body tensed, the straitjacket rubbing against her skin, making her breathing shallow and rapid. The latex mask was gently pressed against her face, the elastic band tied behind her head, covering her mouth and nose. The cold touch of the rubber seeped through the fabric, carrying an industrial scent that made her instinctively hold her breath. The person in the white coat extended a hand, their large palm covering the mask, applying slight pressure. The air instantly became thin, the mask clinging to her skin, almost pressing into her nostrils. Zi Xuan's chest heaved violently, trying to break free from the straitjacket's confines and draw in more air. The light before her eyes began to waver, the dappled patterns from the blinds spinning in her vision, making her dizzy. She could feel her eyeballs rolling upwards, her eyelids trembling uncontrollably, but they were blocked by the mask, unable to close. When the hand was removed, Zi Xuan gasped for air, the mask inflating and deflating with her breaths, emitting a faint "whoosh." The person in the white coat observed her reaction, their fingertips scribbling in a notebook: "Respiration rate normal, tolerance good." Zi Xuan's cheeks flushed, her breathing still uneven, the taste of rubber lingering in her throat. Next came the head cage. Its metal frame was lined with thin foam on the inside, resembling a custom neck brace. The person in the white coat untied the knots at the straitjacket's collar and fitted the head cage over Zi Xuan's head. The frame settled perfectly between her chin and the back of her head, and the knobs on either side were slowly tightened, immobilizing her neck. The pressure of the head cage concentrated on her cervical spine, exerting an upward pull that slightly lifted Zi Xuan's chin, pressing the back of her head against the chair's backrest. She tried to turn her neck but could only feel the resistance of the metal frame. Her cervical spine was fixed at a rigid angle, making even lowering her head impossible. The person in the white coat supported her nape with their hand, gently manipulating it. "There's a slight issue with your cervical curvature, it needs correction." The foam lining of the head cage brushed against her skin, swaying slightly with her breaths. Zi Xuan's shoulders hunched with tension, the straitjacket's knots tightening further, causing a dull ache in her shoulder blades. The distant wail of an ambulance siren drifted in from outside, growing closer then fading away, making the silence in the room feel particularly oppressive. Half an hour later, the head cage was removed, leaving behind faint red marks. The person in the white coat picked up a gas mask from the rack – a black rubber mask connected to a transparent tube, the other end leading to a breathing bottle filled with clear water. "Next is respiratory training, good for the lungs." They fitted the mask over Zi Xuan's face, tied the straps behind her head, and then opened the valve of the breathing bottle. The scent of clear water permeated the mask, carrying a damp coolness. Zi Xuan tried to inhale, only to find that she was drawing in not air, but filtered water vapor, with a faint metallic tang. Her throat instantly stung, as if she had choked on ice water, and she couldn't help but cough, but the mask muffled the sound to a dull groan. The pressure from the breathing bottle was immense, water vapor continuously flooding her nasal passages and mouth, filling her lungs with a heavy, liquid sensation. Zi Xuan's body began to struggle violently, the leather straps on her wrists and ankles chafing her skin, leaving deeper red marks. The straitjacket became damp with sweat, clinging to her back with a sticky discomfort. She could feel her consciousness blurring, the water vapor stinging her eyes, yet no tears could fall. Tiny droplets of condensation formed on the gas mask, obscuring her vision. She could only see the figure in the white coat standing opposite, holding a stopwatch, their expression unchanged. Her strength to struggle gradually waned, and Zi Xuan's body stopped thrashing violently, leaving only a faint tremor, like a flickering candle flame in the wind. The white straitjacket was slightly glistening with sweat, clinging to her skin and outlining the contours of her rising and falling chest. The sound of black latex rubbing against white fabric grew quieter, eventually fading to a mere rustle between the fabrics. Her breathing became slower, each inhalation requiring her entire body's effort. A heavy, rasping sound emanated from her throat, as if she were swallowing lead, heavy and arduous. The pain in her lungs spread along her bronchi, pulling at her ribs and causing sharp, stabbing pains that made cold sweat bead on her forehead, trickling down her cheeks to drip onto the collar of her straitjacket. Her vision began to blur, the white-coated figure in front of her becoming a double image, her consciousness shrouded in a thick fog, on the verge of plunging into darkness. Just then, a soft "click" sounded from the tube connecting the gas mask to the breathing bottle, and the valve was closed. The continuous influx of air abruptly ceased, and the internal pressure of the mask rapidly decreased. Immediately after, the restraints on her head were loosened, and the gas mask was gently removed, carrying the residual warmth of the rubber and the damp moisture. Fresh air flooded her lungs without warning, carrying the faint scent of dust and disinfectant in the room. It wasn't exactly refreshing, but Zi Xuan inhaled it greedily, as if grasping a lifeline. Her lungs expanded instantly, and the pain returned, mingled with an indescribable sense of relief, causing her to let out a suppressed groan, her voice hoarse as if scraped by sandpaper. The person in the white coat moved behind her, their fingers working at the buckles of the straitjacket. The sound of metal clasps releasing was particularly clear in the quiet room. The straps around her waist, chest, and arms were undone one by one, the feeling of restraint receding like a tide, leaving behind the burning sensation of her skin being constricted. Finally, the knots at her neck were loosened. As the high collar of the straitjacket slid down from her chin, Zi Xuan's neck involuntarily tilted forward, her cervical spine emitting a faint "creak." As she was helped to stand from the chair, Zi Xuan's legs felt like lead, her knees buckling, nearly causing her to collapse. The other person supported her arm with a steady grip, allowing her to remain upright. The moment her feet touched the ground, a numb, stinging pain shot through her ankles, a lingering effect of maintaining the same position for an extended period. I sat on the edge of the bed, a beige nylon rope clutched in my hand, my fingers unconsciously caressing the texture of its surface. This was my third weekend of consistently binding my legs with rope, making it exactly one month. When I first discovered this method, my heart was filled with novelty and tension. My legs were wrapped round and round with the rope, from my ankles to below my knees. The restraint of the rope prevented my body from moving freely, but it unexpectedly brought a sense of solid security. However, repeating the same action day after day, the novelty gradually faded, leaving only mechanical operation. After each binding, I would just sit quietly by the bed, staring blankly at the clock on the wall, no longer feeling the rapid heartbeat of the beginning. "Perhaps I can try a more complex method." I opened my phone and found the self-bondage tutorial videos I had saved before. On the screen, the blogger demonstrated the steps for binding the upper body in detail, from the cross-fixing of the wrists to the wrapping method across the chest, explaining each movement meticulously. With a "let's give it a try" attitude, I placed the rope on the bed and first followed the tutorial to tie my hands behind my back, wrists together, and gently wrapped the rope around them. When I first started practicing, the rope was always disobedient, either winding in the wrong direction or the knots being too loose. After four or five repeated attempts, I managed to complete a simple Japanese reverse tie, where the rope extended upwards from my wrists, wrapped around my forearms, crossed behind my back, and then returned to my wrists to tie a knot. Although my hands were still relatively loose and I could move my fingers with a little effort, it was enough for me, at least I didn't have to worry about the panic of not being able to untie the rope. Next was the binding of my legs. I no longer simply wrapped circles as before, but learned the "M-shaped binding" from the tutorial: first, I spread my legs apart, and started wrapping the rope from my ankles, moving up a little with each wrap until above my knees; then, I used another short rope to connect the ropes at the knees, gently tightening them to keep my legs apart. After finishing, I tried to move a little. My legs were fixed at a specific angle and could not be fully closed. This tighter sense of restraint was much stronger than before, but the feeling in my heart was still only security, not the "special feeling" described by the blogger in the video. I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. A video I had accidentally stumbled upon before suddenly came to mind. The girl in the video was also doing similar bindings, but her face was flushed, and her breathing was a little rapid, looking like she had triggered some "Change your clothes." The man in the front handed over a folded piece of fabric, its pink sheen casting an eerie glow in the dim car. Silver embroidery adorned the edges, and the texture felt like the finest silk. Xi Luo hesitated, not taking it. The man then drew a pistol from his waist, the cold muzzle pressing against her temple. Her body tensed instantly, and Xi Luo, trembling, took the fabric. As she unfolded it, her stomach churned – it was a princess gown, with a voluminous skirt, a cinched waist, and even lace trim at the neckline, identical to the princess attire from the globally popular game. Her fingers, gripping the gown, turned white, but under the threat of the gun, she had no choice but to begin unbuttoning her shirt. The man turned away, leaving a companion to watch her. As her shirt slid off, Xi Luo could feel that gaze on her back, like warm needles. The gown was incredibly cumbersome to put on; the corset choked her, and the stiff petticoat prevented her from closing her legs. Next came the pure white long gloves, extending to her elbows, the lace trim tickling her neck. The stockings were flesh-toned, with delicate bows at the top, reaching her thighs. The man's impatient urging made her movements even more frantic. Finally, the red high heels, with heels at least ten centimeters high, made it almost impossible for her to maintain balance on the car floor. A heavy golden crown was placed on her head, the metal edge digging painfully into her scalp. Xi Luo looked at her reflection in the car window. The pink gown formed a grotesque contrast with her disheveled expression. Tears of humiliation welled up in her eyes but couldn't escape due to the gag in her mouth. "Hands behind your back," the man's voice was an unquestionable command. Xi Luo complied. Her wrists, encased in the long gloves, were pulled back forcefully, and rough hemp rope quickly wrapped around them. The criss-cross binding caused excruciating pain in her shoulders; with every movement, the rope dug deeper. She whimpered and shook her head, hoping he would loosen it, only to receive a more forceful tug. Her breasts were bound by the rope, forming a tight net. The man deliberately tied a knot in the front, pressing painfully against her ribs and making her breathing difficult. Her skirt was rolled up to her waist, exposing her thighs clad in stockings. Leather restraints were fastened around her knees and ankles, with chains only a few dozen centimeters long, allowing her only to shuffle. A rope was tied around her neck, the other end held in the man's hand, as if leading a pet. Xi Luo was utterly despairing. This attire and restraint rendered her incapable of even the most basic resistance. The instability of the high heels made it difficult to stand, let alone escape. The van stopped in the underground parking lot of a tower apartment. The lighting was stark white, reflecting blindingly off the polished floor. The man, pulling the rope around her neck, forced Xi Luo to follow. Her high heels clicked on the ground, mingling with the dragging sound of the chains, like a humiliating symphony. Entering the elevator, there were no floor numbers, only a continuous sense of falling. Xi Luo's heart pounded faster, unsure of what awaited her. The elevator doors opened to a hallway carpeted thickly, absorbing all sound. A man in a suit stood at the elevator entrance, his hair meticulously combed, a perfunctory smile on his face. "Brought her," the man escorting Xi Luo released the rope and handed the other end to the man in the suit. "Good work," the man in the suit took the rope, his fingertips tracing the knot as if inspecting it. "She's obedient." "She knows which way the wind blows," the escort said, then turned and entered the elevator. The doors slowly closed, sealing off the outside world. The man in the suit appraised Xi Luo, his gaze sweeping from the crown down to her high heels, finally resting on her bound wrists. "Fits well," his voice was flat but carried a condescending scrutiny. "Now for some adjustments." He gestured towards an adjacent room, its door ajar, revealing a soft light within. Xi Luo was led in by the rope, spotting hair dye and contact lenses on the vanity. Black hair dye, blue lenses – clearly intended to make her resemble the game's princess more closely. "The hair needs to be platinum blonde, and the eye color ice blue," the man in the suit's fingertip traced the hair dye box, the reflection on the plastic mirroring in his glasses. "That's how the princess in the game should look." Xi Luo stumbled towards the vanity, pulled by the rope. The rhinestones inlaid around the mirror's edge reflected a dazzling light, making her eyes water. The figure in the mirror wore a pink princess dress, her wrists marked with red from the hemp rope, the rough cloth in her mouth soaked with saliva, looking like a discarded doll. The crown lay on the countertop, its faceted gems scattering small patches of light onto her bound wrists. A bone-chilling cold snaked up her spine as Alice’s eyes snapped open in a haze of confusion. A violent wave of dizziness, coupled with the ache in her limbs, made her instinctively try to push herself up, only to find her extremities held fast by an unseen force, utterly immobile. Her vision cleared from a blur, revealing the sight of the magical restraint frame she knew all too well—a frame of obsidian-black metal, entwined with vine-like chains. Each link was inlaid with dark purple sigils, every line radiating a faint yet heart-stopping magic. This restraint frame had once been her sharpest weapon against malevolent magic, a tool that had brought countless wicked fiends to heel. But now, the roles were completely reversed. No longer was magic bound to the frame; it was she, the former queen, who was held captive. The icy metal clamped against her skin, the vine chains coiled tightly around her wrists, ankles, and torso. The chill from the sigils seeped into her flesh, leaving her body cold. Images flashed through Alice’s mind from before she lost consciousness—her confrontation with Chun Tang in the secret realm. Chun Tang’s cultivated dark arts were bizarre and unpredictable. They had fought dozens of rounds, and Alice had held the upper hand. She hadn't anticipated Chun Tang had laid a trap; a hairpin, imbued with a soul-confusing spell, had struck unexpectedly. She hadn't been able to dodge, her vision had gone black, and she had lost consciousness. At the time, she had thought that once Chun Tang was subdued, she would bind her to the restraint frame and make her pay for her wicked deeds. Now, she had become the captive. “Awake? It seems the soul-confusing spell’s effect is weaker than I anticipated.” A soft, yet teasing voice drifted from nearby. Alice strained her neck, her gaze passing over the frame of the restraint, landing on the figure not far away. Chun Tang, clad in a moon-white gown embroidered with subtle patterns, her hair loosely pinned up, revealing a slender neck. A gentle smile graced her lips, her eyes curved, appearing demure and harmless. Yet, deep within those eyes, a hint of imperceptible cunning and coldness lay hidden. It was this seemingly frail woman who had not only thwarted her plans but also imprisoned her here, even employing her own magical restraint frame. A furious inferno ignited in Alice’s heart, her aura turning sharp. If not for the secure bonds of the frame, she would have already lunged at Chun Tang for a fight to the death. Chun Tang walked forward slowly, her steps light, her skirt brushing the ground without a sound. She stopped before the restraint frame, looking up at the bound Alice, her smile still gentle, but her tone carrying a hint of triumph. “You’ve experienced the power of this magical restraint frame just now, haven’t you?” As she spoke, her fingers brushed over the sigils on the frame. Her touch met the cold metal, and a flicker of an almost imperceptible shadow crossed her eyes. “This frame gave me quite a bit of trouble before. That feeling of powerlessness, of being at someone else’s mercy, is something I’ll never forget.” Alice’s heart jolted. She suddenly remembered that she had indeed subdued Chun Tang with this very frame once before. Chun Tang had only recently begun cultivating dark arts then, her power still weak, and Alice had easily captured her, imprisoning her for three days and three nights. At the time, she had dismissed Chun Tang as a mere rogue cultivator, not taking her seriously. She hadn't expected Chun Tang to harbor such resentment, to return now and imprison her in turn, using her own weapon to exact revenge for her past actions. “What do you want?” Alice’s voice was slightly hoarse, yet it still carried the arrogance of royalty. Even imprisoned, her back remained straight, her eyes fixed on Chun Tang with icy coldness, showing no sign of retreat. “Chun Tang, if you know what’s good for you, release this king immediately. Otherwise, once I break free, I will tear you limb from limb and make you pay a heavy price for what you’ve done today!” Upon hearing this, Chun Tang didn’t get angry. Instead, she smiled more gently. She leaned down slightly, closing the distance between them. Chun Tang’s faint, cool fragrance, mixed with the chill of the sigils, wafted into Alice’s nostrils. “Tear me limb from limb?” Chun Tang chuckled, her tone full of amusement. “Alice, you can’t even save yourself now, yet you speak such grand words. It’s rather laughable.” She straightened up, raising a hand to adjust her skirt, her tone gradually becoming serious. “I don’t wish to make things difficult for you. As long as you obediently follow my commands and help me accomplish one task, I will release you, and I might even return this restraint frame to you. But if you insist on not cooperating, then I will have no choice but to let you taste the suffering I once endured.” “Wicked sorceress! Don’t even dream of it!” Alice roared, struggling violently. The restraint frame creaked, and the vine chains tightened, digging into her skin, causing her pain. Yet, she did not stop. “This king is a righteous ruler. How could I possibly obey the commands of a dark cultivator like you? You can kill me, but this king will never compromise!” Her voice was sonorous and powerful, filled with unshakeable resolve. The rage in her eyes threatened to ignite. In her understanding, righteousness and evil were irreconcilable. As a righteous king, it was her duty to protect the peace of the world. No matter what predicament she faced, she would never ally with a dark cultivator, nor would she be dictated to by one. Chun Tang watched Alice’s stubborn defiance, the smile on her face slowly fading, the gentleness in her eyes replaced by coldness. She should have expected that Alice’s nature was proud and unyielding, that she would never compromise easily. Yet, she had held onto a sliver of hope. Now, it seemed, that hope was in vain. “Truly stubborn.” Chun Tang shook her head, her tone tinged with regret. “I had intended to give you an opportunity, but you chose not to cherish it. Since that is the case, do not blame me for being impolite.” As her words fell, Chun Tang raised her hand, her fingers glowing with a faint purple light—the power of her cultivated dark arts. She chanted a spell, and the light gradually coalesced into a beam, shooting towards Alice’s face. Alice instinctively tried to dodge, but her head was fixed by the restraint frame, rendering her unable to move. She could only watch helplessly as the beam struck her face. The next second, a cold force enveloped her mouth and nose. A chilling metal object was firmly secured over her face—a silver gag, simple in design, yet incredibly sturdy. It fit precisely between her teeth, filling her mouth, preventing her from speaking, leaving her only with muffled, guttural sounds. She straightened up, adjusted the hem of her skirt, and her tone gradually became serious. "This sect does not wish to make things difficult for you. As long as you obediently follow this sect's orders and help this sect complete one task, this sect can let you go, and even return this restraint frame to you. But if you insist on not cooperating, then this sect can only let you taste what this sect once endured." "Wicked woman! Stop your foolish delusions!" Aili roared, struggling violently. The restraint frame creaked, and the vine chains tightened, biting into her skin. But she didn't stop. "This King is a righteous ruler, how could I obey the orders of a demonic cultivator like you? Even if you kill this King, this King will never compromise!" Her voice was sonorous and firm, filled with unshakeable resolve. The anger in her eyes was almost burning. In her understanding, righteousness and evil were irreconcilable. As a righteous ruler, it was her duty to protect the peace of the world. No matter what predicament she faced, she would never ally with a demonic cultivator, nor would she be dictated by one. Chun Tang watched Aili's stubborn defiance, the smile on her face gradually fading, the gentleness in her eyes replaced by coldness. She should have known that Aili's nature was untamed and she would not easily compromise. Yet, she had held onto a sliver of hope. Now, it seemed that hope was in vain. "Truly stubborn," Chun Tang shook her head, her tone laced with a hint of regret. "This sect intended to give you an opportunity, but you refused to cherish it. Since that is the case, then do not blame this sect for being impolite." As her voice fell, Chun Tang raised her hand, her fingers glowing with a faint purple light – the power of the dark arts she cultivated. She chanted a spell, and the light gradually condensed into a beam, shooting towards Aili's face. Aili instinctively tried to dodge, but her head was fixed by the restraint frame, rendering her unable to move. She could only watch as the beam struck her face. The next second, an icy force enveloped her mouth and nose. A cold metallic object was firmly secured on her face – a silver gag, simple in design but incredibly sturdy. It fit perfectly between her teeth, filling her mouth, preventing her from speaking, allowing only muffled "wooo" sounds. Immediately after, another beam landed on her eyes. A soft black silk cloth instantly covered her eyes, completely blocking out all light. The sudden darkness and the sensation of her mouth being filled caused Aili's heart to panic. She struggled again, with more force than before, but the restraint frame remained unyielding. The vine chains tightened further, making it difficult for her to breathe. Chun Tang watched Aili struggle, a flicker of pleasure in her eyes, yet tinged with regret. She held her forehead, sighed, her tone full of helplessness. "What a pity, such a good opportunity, and you refused to grasp it. Since you are so uncooperative, then calm down for two days, think it over carefully, and then come back to find this sect." As she spoke, the corners of her mouth slowly curved into an evil smile, a smile that was a stark contrast to her usual gentle demeanor. The coldness and cunning in her eyes were fully exposed. "I hope you enjoy this time, and don't disappoint this sect." With her words, Chun Tang turned and walked to the control panel of the restraint frame. The control panel was a black stone slab, inscribed with complex runes that echoed the demonic patterns on the restraint frame. Chun Tang raised her hand, her fingers pressing on the stone slab. The purple power of her dark arts flowed into it, and the runes instantly lit up, emitting a dazzling glow. As the runes brightened, the vine chains on the restraint frame began to slowly contract. With every inch they tightened, Aili felt the pressure on her body increase. The friction between the cold metal and her skin brought a sharp pain. The chains that had originally wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and waist became even more constricting, almost embedding themselves into her flesh, leaving her body stiff and making even the slightest struggle difficult. Furthermore, from the top of the restraint frame, several slender metal chains slowly descended. At the end of each chain hung a small metal ring, which precisely locked onto Aili's neck and limb joints, further restricting her movements. These metal rings carried a bone-chilling cold, tightening against her skin, making her shiver and her blood feel as if it were about to freeze. Aili's eyes were covered by the blindfold, so she couldn't see her surroundings. She could only perceive everything through her hearing and touch. Her mouth was filled with the gag, preventing her from calling for help or shouting. She could only emit muffled whimpers, her voice filled with anger and unwillingness. She could hear Chun Tang's footsteps, the sound of the runes on the control panel lighting up, feel the force of the tightening chains, and that chilling cold. Every sensation was a torment to her nerves. Chun Tang stood before the control panel, watching Aili struggle, her evil smile growing more pronounced. She didn't stop, her fingers continuing to manipulate the control panel. The runes' glow intensified, and the full power of the restraint frame was unleashed. What had initially only been a device to fix the body now began to emit a faint demonic energy. This power flowed along the chains, seeping into Aili's body, making her limbs feel weak and limp. Her once sharp aura gradually weakened. "Stop struggling, Aili," Chun Tang's voice came, laced with a hint of mockery. "This restraint frame, you built it yourself. Its power, you know better than anyone. The more you struggle, the more you suffer. It would be better to compromise obediently and avoid this torment." Hearing Chun Tang's words, the anger in Aili's heart intensified. She struggled with all her might, wanting to break free from the chains, wanting to remove the gag and the blindfold. But her strength seemed so insignificant against the formidable restraint frame. The demonic energy continued to seep into her body, and the pain grew more intense. The body instantly lost all supporting strength, toppling forward onto the ground. Consciousness plunged into darkness, succumbing to a deep coma. The canvas bag on her shoulder slipped off and sprang open, spilling the remaining hosiery onto the floor. Delicate white lace-trimmed stockings lay scattered amongst them, their clean white a stark contrast to the dirty, messy surroundings in the dim light. The man tossed aside the red brick in his hand. The brick landed with a dull thud. The cowardice and appeasement in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by a look of ruthless obsession. He slowly stood up, dusting off his palms and clothes, and looked down at Yun Shu, who lay unconscious and defenseless on the ground. A sinister smile spread across his face. His earlier show of weakness and begging had been a carefully orchestrated deception, designed solely to lower her guard and await the perfect moment for a counter-attack. This brief struggle for dominance was merely one part of his grand plan. He strode forward, pushing the heavy security door shut. He turned the lock, sealing it completely, cutting off any external view and severing all contact with the outside world. This secluded attic room became a completely enclosed, unknown private space. He then bent down, grabbed Yun Shu by the shoulder, and slowly dragged her light body across the floor towards the interior of the room, away from the light near the door, completely concealing her in the dim shadows. Having done all this, the man turned towards the storage area in the corner and pulled out several lengths of thickened nylon rope. The rope was tough and wear-resistant, with fine, dense fibers that resisted stretching and breaking, making it a highly secure binding tool. He returned, rope in hand, and crouched beside the unconscious Yun Shu, beginning to wrap and bind her layer by layer. His movements were practiced and methodical, clearly indicating familiarity with such operations. He first wrapped the rope around Yun Shu's wrists, crisscrossing the double strands, each loop tightening closely, leaving no gaps. Her hands were thus firmly secured behind her back, the buckle locked tight, rendering her wrists completely incapable of lifting, bending, or twisting. He then took a longer rope and wrapped it horizontally around her waist, multiple dense layers overlapping, pressing tightly against her body, completely suppressing any twisting or bending of her torso and sealing off her core power points. Finally, he gathered the remaining rope, bound her legs together, and wrapped them layer by layer, tightly securing her knees and ankles, locking down all flexion and abduction of her lower limbs. The entire binding process was meticulous and thorough. Each loop of rope was pulled to its absolute limit, the buckles biting firmly and securely. All movable joints and power points of her body were locked down in every direction. Her wrists, waist, and legs formed a triple-layered restraint, leaving no gaps for leverage or escape. Her body was completely immobilized on the ground, with no room for movement, completely eliminating any possibility of escape or resistance. With all restraint operations complete, the man stood up and looked down at the completely immobilized girl on the floor, his eyes filled with greedy satisfaction and triumph. The frustration of being subdued moments earlier had vanished, replaced by the contentment of having complete control of the situation. Yun Shu, who had previously held the upper hand and successfully counter-attacked, was now completely at his mercy. The speed of the reversal and the magnitude of the shift made this unwarranted entanglement full of dramatic twists and turns. The sealed room fell silent once more, no sound from the outside world penetrating. The entire space was quiet and oppressive. No one knew that in this secluded room, a dangerous turn of events had begun with a mundane sales pitch and ended with malicious restraint. Time slowly passed in the silence. The atmosphere in the room remained stagnant and heavy until, after a long while, the unconscious girl on the floor showed signs of waking. Her muddled consciousness gradually withdrew from the darkness, her scattered senses slowly returning to her body. A dull ache spread from the back of her neck, a throbbing numbness permeating her shoulders and back. Her limbs were tightly bound by the taut nylon ropes, a stiff sense of restraint covering her entire body. Yun Shu slowly lifted her heavy eyelids, her unfocused gaze gradually sharpening. The first thing she saw was the dim, mottled ceiling. An old light fixture hung overhead, casting a weak, dim glow. The unfamiliar environment instantly tightened her heart. Fragmented memories quickly connected and pieced together: the evening sales visit, the customer's malicious attempt to get free goods, the threat with a knife, her swift counter-attack and subduing of the assailant, the man's feigned surrender, the sneak attack with the red brick from the corner, and the sudden loss of consciousness. The complete sequence of events instantly made her recognize her desperate predicament. A heavy sense of speechlessness and frustration surged in her heart. She had always been honest and diligent, earning a meager living through her own efforts in sales. She had never provoked trouble or made enemies. She had simply been completing an ordinary transaction, only to be subjected to a malicious robbery, ambushed and attacked viciously, and ultimately left bound and restrained, her freedom completely imprisoned. The hidden malice of human hearts, the unprovoked evil intentions of strangers, far exceeded all her past experiences. After waking, she immediately tried to exert force with her body, twisting her wrists, waist, and legs simultaneously, attempting to pry open the taut ropes and break free from the layers of restraint. However, the toughness of the nylon rope far surpassed ordinary rope. The dense wrapping method sealed off all spaces for exertion. Every twist and every surge of force only tightened the ropes further, the oppressive feeling of restraint intensifying. All her resistance movements failed to achieve any escape effect, all proving futile. Her body was completely immobilized, unable to move. The stiff restraint continued to wear on her spirit, frustration and anger piling up in her heart. She watched helplessly as the man nearby bent down and picked up all the scattered hosiery from the floor, gathering all the goods she had painstakingly sourced, carefully selected, and meticulously organized. The man's movements were calm and practiced, with a strong sense of plunder, devoid of any guilt or concern. He meticulously gathered the dozen or so pairs of the best-looking lace-trimmed white stockings, stacking these exquisitely textured and visually appealing best-sellers neatly. He carefully placed them into his large storage bag, then packed the remaining basic styles. He even took the goods tray and packaging cloth bag that Yun Shu had carried with her. He intended to plunder all of Yun Shu's hard work, completely appropriating the profits from her days of running around and arduous labor. Yun Shu, firmly pinned to the ground, could only lie there passively, watching him plunder her life's work without any ability to stop or resist. A strong sense of anger and unwillingness consumed her heart, her chest filling with unvented indignation. She refused to resign herself to fate. She continuously adjusted her body angle, repeatedly twisting her limbs in small movements, patiently probing the gaps and biting points of the rope's entanglement, trying to find a weak spot in the entire restraint structure. Even though every struggle yielded minimal results, even though all her exertion was nullified by the taut ropes, she never stopped resisting. The resilience and stubbornness in her bones prevented her from bowing down to this unwarranted malice, from calmly accepting the injustice of being robbed, restrained, and arbitrarily manipulated. In the dim, enclosed room, the situation settled into a bizarre standoff. The villain, driven by malice, calmly sorted and packed the plundered goods, his posture relaxed, his heart full of smug satisfaction, completely in control of the entire situation. The tightly bound girl, her heart filled with indignation, struggled in vain, her body resisting within the layers of restraint, clinging to the unwillingness in her heart.