Regarding my adopted sister becoming a masochist

"No! I..." "Then what is it?" Wan Ning pressed, refusing to let him off the hook. She tiptoed closer, her warm breath mingling with her teasing words as she whispered into his ear, "Or... you don't know how? Are all your drawings just copied? You don't know how to use ropes, how to make someone... mmm... enjoy it?" She bit down on the word "enjoy," her tone both light and heavy, leaving endless room for imagination. "Bullshit!! I know how..." Though his voice was furious and loud, his conviction wavered, his breath unsteady – because she had hit the nail on the head. Yes, Shuzhou could draw. He understood composition, aesthetics, and the body language of restraint. But in reality, he had never touched a rope. He was a giant in theory, a dwarf in practice – Little Chunan was like this (the author fantasizes about becoming a catgirl and being severely disciplined). Wan Ning keenly caught the fleeting flicker of doubt in Shuzhou's eyes. "Hehehe... Okay, okay!" Wan Ning giggled, her body shaking as if she'd heard the funniest joke in the world. She turned, and to his surprise, pulled a brand new roll of rough-textured hemp rope from the bedside drawer. She had prepared it long ago. Holding the rope like a banner of victory, Wan Ning returned to Shuzhou and, without another word, shoved it into his arms. "Here." The rope, carrying the warmth of the girl and the dry scent of plant fibers, landed heavily in Shuzhou's trembling hands. "For you, you little shrimp uncle," Wan Ning said, tilting her head back, her eyes filled with pure, unadulterated provocation and anticipation. "Let's see if your 'art' only exists on Pixiv." "Come on, tie me up." Shuzhou looked down at the rope in his hands, then up at the face before him, a face that screamed, "Do you dare?" His mind went blank, his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to shatter his ribs. "I..." He wanted to refuse, but no sound came out of his throat. "What? Scared?" A wicked curve formed on Wan Ning's lips. "Or do you want me to teach you? Like in your drawings, start with the wrists? Right? 'Shuozhou' sir?" She turned around of her own accord, placing her fair wrists behind her back, clasped together. She waited there, quiet and full of trust... for him. That gesture was the straw that broke the camel's back. Humiliation, anger, the urge to be provoked, and the long-suppressed, dark desire erupted within him. A fierce glint flashed in Shuzhou's eyes, the look of someone pushed to the brink. He suddenly grabbed her wrists with a force that made Wan Ning let out a soft gasp. Then, he picked up the rope and began to wind it. His movements were clumsy, awkward, even a little rough. The knots were tied slowly, his fingers trembling too much. This wasn't artistic creation; it was more like an outpouring of pent-up emotion. He wanted to use this rope to bind the enchanting creature who had made him lose control, and to bind the roaring beast within his own heart. The rough hemp rope chafed against her delicate skin, causing a slight sting. Wan Ning hissed in pain but didn't struggle. She felt his trembling hands, sensed the aura of anger and desire radiating from him, and a satisfied, almost ecstatic smile spread across her face. "Mmm... just like that..." she moaned contentedly in her throat, her voice soft and seductive. "A little tighter... little shrimp uncle... your hands are so cute when they shake..." The rough knot on her wrist felt less like a restraint and more like a clumsy joke. Wan Ning stirred gently, and the loose loop of rope easily slid a bit further open. She twisted her wrist, looking at the red mark left behind, the curve of her lips turning even more wicked. "Hmm, looks like Uncle Minnow isn't quite up to par," she said, lifting her hands as if displaying a failed piece of art, her tone laced with undisguised disappointment. "It's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Compared to what you draw on Pixiv, this is like playing house. Is your art only confined to the two-dimensional world?" Her words struck Shuo Zhou like a whip laced with salt, stinging his face. The flicker of uncontrolled anger that had just ignited within him was instantly doused by this cold splash of water, bringing him back to his senses. He looked at Wan Ning's smug expression, the unspoken "You really can't do it," and a switch flipped deep inside him. It wasn't anger, but a cold desire to win, ignited by her provocation. Shuo Zhou suddenly smiled. His smile was faint, yet it carried an unprecedented danger. He no longer looked at the discarded rope. Instead, he yanked the still-chattering little succubus towards him with such force that Wan Ning gasped and stumbled directly into his embrace. They were inches apart, and Wan Ning could clearly see the depths of his eyes, no longer chaotic but a bottomless, cold pool. "Indeed, indeed," Shuo Zhou began, his voice low and steady, with a deliberately drawn-out, mocking tone. "It's just that this model's 'airport' makes it difficult for me!" His gaze, pointedly, swept over Wan Ning's flat chest. "But... I have my ways." Wan Ning froze. This was the first time Shuo Zhou had ever retaliated with such cutting words. She opened her mouth to retort, but his next action cut her off. Shuo Zhou gave her no chance. He pushed her down onto the bed and picked up the roll of hemp rope. This time, his hands did not tremble. His movements were still not fluid, but each step was purposeful. He was no longer the "brother" torn between desire and guilt, but "Shuozhou"—an artist facing flawed material, compelled to personally mold it into perfection. He retied Wan Ning's hands, but this time behind her back. The knots were tight and intricate. Then, the rope passed behind her neck, tracing the line of her collarbone downwards. Wan Ning unconsciously held her breath. She could feel that this was entirely different from before. When the rope reached her chest, she finally understood Shuo Zhou's intention. He didn't go around. Instead, he used two strands of rope to precisely thread beneath the soft, developing mounds, then pulled upwards, tightening them. A simplified form of Go-kaku-baku instantly took shape. What was most devastating was how tightly those two ropes were cinched across her chest. "Mmm..." Wan Ning let out a suppressed groan. It wasn't pain, but an intense, unprecedented sense of restraint and the shame of being forcibly shaped. The rope dug deeply into her skin, cinching the already modest "hills" into two clear, fleshy indentations, making them visually... indeed, a bit "bigger" than before. Shuo Zhou tied the final knot and released his hands. He didn't admire his creation. He simply looked at it coldly, as if to say: Are you satisfied now? But Wan Ning was not one to surrender easily. Instead of the shame or tears Shuo Zhou expected, she twisted her wrists, now bound behind her back, confirming the tightness of the knots. Then, with a dexterity that belied her bound state, like a cat, she slid off the bed, bare feet padding silently, step by step, towards the dressing mirror in the room. She stood before the mirror, puffing out her chest slightly, so the two ropes would cinch even tighter, more prominently. The girl in the mirror had fair skin and eyes that shone with startling brilliance. Behind her lay a disheveled bed. Across her chest were rough hemp ropes, symbols of taboo and conquest. Those taut ropes, like a frame, forcibly outlined the girl's curves, creating a strange beauty that hovered between purity and depravity. Wan Ning admired herself in the mirror, then turned her head, catching Shuo Zhou's gaze in the reflection. He looked somewhat displeased, as if he hadn't quite recovered. She pouted, her voice a mixture of seven parts teasing and three parts grievance: "The force is too much. Are you trying to tie me to death? Can't you be gentler! This is what a minnow of a master is like, not even letting me speak the truth." Wan Ning paused, touching the reddened skin on her wrists with the back of her hand. A layer of moisture even welled up in her eyes, making her look utterly pitiful. "I'm so pitiful, being treated like this..." Although the pitiful and wronged tone was feigned, only Wan Ning knew that when she saw her reflection in the mirror—bound by ropes, yet with eyes shining like a demon's—her heart had skipped a beat. This... peculiar aesthetic of ropes combined with a devilish girl had indeed shocked her. Especially... the astonishing curve of the "little hills" that were now being cinched out (The more one lacks something, the more one craves it—Shuo Zhou's note). The moment Shuo Zhou heard Wan Ning's provocative remark, the string of "reason" in his mind snapped even faster than the last time. His artistic persona officially activated. With experience on his side, Shuo Zhou wasn't blinded by rage as before. Instead, an incredibly clear plan, tinged with a hint of malicious amusement, took shape in his mind. "Punishment? Please, at best I'm educating a shrimp of a girl, or to put it more elegantly—sculpting a flawed piece of art," Cold-and-aloof Zhou made his entrance, his voice deep with a playful chuckle. "Tonight, there will be a very profound lesson, but not here. And, there's a new toy too." (Big brother is a pure and utter scoundrel. Does he think new toys just appear out of nowhere? He's been planning this all along, with ill intentions!!!! — Signed, Wan Ning) Shuo Zhou's mention of "new toy" exploded in Wan Ning's heart like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake, creating brilliant yet dangerous ripples. Far from being scared, she trembled with excitement, her eyes shining like a kitten discovering a new plaything. "Oh? New toy?" Wan Ning giggled, then actively climbed off the bed and coiled around Shuo Zhou's back like a beautiful snake, her warm breath fanning his ear. "Is the shrimp uncle finally going to show some real skill? I thought you only knew how to use those old-fashioned ropes. Let me guess, what is it? A whip? Candles? Or... a gag?" As she spoke, Wan Ning licked her lips suggestively, her eyes brimming with anticipation and provocation. Shuo Zhou glanced at her with a smile, his gaze like that of someone looking at a disobedient doll about to be disciplined. "What? Excited? I guarantee you'll like it!" Then, with an undeniable force, he peeled her off him and pressed her down onto the edge of the bed. "Oho, such a talkative little mouth," Shuo Zhou's voice was low and calm, yet carried an unprecedented authority. "But I hope you'll still be so eloquent later. Don't be a boring mute, alright?" "I'll be mute?" Wan Ning blinked, then laughed even harder. "Alright, then I'll see what you, this so-called 'artist,' can turn me into. Don't disappoint me, shrimp uncle." Shuo Zhou ignored her chatter. He turned and retrieved a large, almost engulfing black trench coat from the depths of the wardrobe, tossing it onto the bed. Then, he slowly began to prepare his "brushes"—a bundle of treated, soft white cotton ropes. "White?" Wan Ning raised an eyebrow, a hint of disdain in her tone. "What? Is shrimp uncle suddenly getting pure and wants to use white to highlight my 'angelic' identity? Too bad, beneath an angel's skin is a complete little devil..." Before she could finish the last syllable, Shuo Zhou suddenly grabbed her wrist with immense force, making her gasp involuntarily. "Still don't understand gentleness? You have to be gentle with soft, fragrant girls, right? Otherwise, it hurts!" "Okay, okay! Princess, please change!" Shuo Zhou knelt before her, like a knight about to crown a princess. Unlike his previous rough binding, Shuo Zhou began his creation with a near-devout, slow, and precise technique. First, the upper body restraint. A classic "hands behind back, high hands" tie, crossing Wan Ning's wrists behind her back, securing them firmly with rope, and pulling them up below her shoulder blades, forcing her chest to protrude and her shoulders to arch back. Next, the rope wound around her neck, weaving an exquisite diamond pattern across her chest, cleverly outlining and lifting her soft curves. "Mmm..." Wan Ning let out a suppressed groan. The cotton rope this time had been specially treated, so there was no pain from rough hemp against her skin. However, the intense shame of being forcibly shaped was even greater. The ropes clung tightly to her skin, yet an unusual sense of security filled Wan Ning's heart, as if she didn't need to think, couldn't struggle, and could only be dominated by the wicked brother before her. "That's it?" Wan Ning puffed out her chest, her mouth still sharp. "I thought there'd be some new tricks, isn't it the same as last time? Is shrimp uncle's imagination limited to making breasts look bigger? How pathetic..." Shuo Zhou seemed not to hear. His sharp gaze moved from Wan Ning's chest, outlined by the white ropes, to her long, straight legs. He didn't rush to act, but like a craftsman examining blueprints, he gestured with his fingers, measuring the circumference and length of her thighs. Where his fingertips brushed, a tingling tremor arose. He picked up a new white cotton rope, deftly manipulating it between his fingers. The rope's end began at the center point above her spine, then split into two, transforming into two agile white snakes that wound down along the curve of her buttocks, sliding towards the most sensitive area at the base of her thighs. Shuo Zhou's technique was steady. He didn't rush to wrap, but first circled each of her outer thighs twice with the ends of the rope, creating two rope loops that dug deeply into her flesh. These loops were placed in extremely precise,刁钻 locations, fitting snugly around the plumpest part of her thighs like two white iron hoops, locking the direction of her muscles. Then, Shuo Zhou threaded the rope through the loops, letting it slide vertically down the delicate skin of her inner thighs, stopping only at the back of her knees. At this moment, Wan Ning felt the base of her thighs tightly constricted by the two loops, a difficult-to-describe ache and sense of restraint emanating from the勒痕. She even instinctively tried to bring her legs together, only to find it impossible. The rope continued to extend, looping around the backs of her knees, winding along her calves, and finally reaching her ankles. The true "art" was just beginning. Shuo Zhou didn't immediately secure her ankles. Instead, he used the ends of the rope to tie a seemingly loose but crucial slipknot around each ankle, giving him room for subsequent operations—he could lock them without hurting or damaging Wan Ning. At this point, the entire rope formed a large "U" shaped circuit on Wan Ning's body, extending from her spine to her toes. "Hehe! Shrimp uncle, what are you tying? I don't feel any restraint..." Wan Ning watched her legs being gradually swallowed by the rope, her excitement and the shock of the stimulation adding fuel to the fire~~ Although she was starting to realize something was seriously wrong, being a troublemaker was a cat's instinct! "Almost done, come on, try taking a couple of steps." The most crucial step was the upward pull. Shuo Zhou grabbed the excess rope length at her ankles and yanked upwards! As the rope instantly tightened, the two white forces became like two rigid iron pillars, forcibly pulling Wan Ning's body towards the center. Because the rope was fixed at the base of her thighs and her ankles, this upward pull created a stable triangular structure at the center of her body. This wasn't to make her bring her legs together; quite the opposite. This structure was a variation of the frog tie—a leg-spreading stride restrictor, creating a bizarre tension. As long as the rope was taut, Wan Ning's inner thigh muscles had nowhere to exert force. The two taut ropes seemed to constantly resist her muscle contractions, and no matter how hard she tried, her legs could only maintain that subtle, unclosable posture. This forced separation was more uncomfortable for the restrained than simple binding. "I can't even walk properly... Ugh..." Even more fatal was the stride restriction— When Wan Ning tried to take a step, the ankle rope of the lifted foot would loosen, but the ankle rope of the foot on the ground would instantly tighten due to gravity and tension. That rope was like an invisible rein, stubbornly holding her ankle, restricting the height she could lift her leg. Wan Ning pouted, holding her breath, trying to walk normally, but it wasn't walking at all. She was like a penguin with its spine removed, only able to walk on her tiptoes, her feet alternating, dragging on the ground. Every step was a struggle, her body swaying as if she might fall at any moment—all her balance, all her strength, completely dismantled by these seemingly simple ropes. Shuo Zhou stood up with satisfaction, admiring his masterpiece. Wan Ning was now like a butterfly trapped in a white spiderweb. Her upper body was sculpted into an exquisite work of art by the ropes, while her lower body was imprisoned by this ingenious mechanical structure, forced to stand in a humiliating and awkward posture. All her arrogance was crushed into dust by this inability to move. Wan Ning's body trembled violently, her breathing ceasing. "You... what are you doing..." Shuo Zhou didn't answer. He gently parted the thin fabric with his finger, and then, he slowly and precisely inserted the cold, smooth, metallic object into that warm, moist secret place. "Ah—!" Wan Ning let out a short gasp, her body instantly tensing like a drawn bow. The unprecedented feeling of fullness from the foreign object made her mind go blank. This was more direct, more invasive than any rope restraint! "Now..." Shuo Zhou stood up, looking down at her, a triumphant smile curving his lips. "I believe shrimp Ning has already grasped the core content of this education." He picked up the small remote control and dangled it in front of Wan Ning. "Hmph?!... You think I'm scared..." Wan Ning knew what this "new toy" meant. Her originally fair face turned ashen—she desperately tried to bring her legs together, but was restrained by the ropes, only able to make futile struggles. Yet, even so, Wan Ning gritted her teeth and pretended to be brave. "What is it?" Shuo Zhou naturally saw through shrimp Ning's inner panic, slowly putting on his jacket, and watching her at his leisure. "Our great 'Princess' is indeed a brave girl, resisting even at this point. It seems tonight's journey will be very interesting." "Shhh..." Shuo Zhou made a shushing gesture, then pressed a button on the remote. The night breeze was cool, carrying the burnt aroma of takoyaki grilling over charcoal, the salty tang of iron-plate squid, and the tempting scent of cheap but delicious sweet and spicy sauce, all crashing through the bustling night market. Above, neon signs crackled and hissed, their exposed electrical hum mixing with the din of the crowd. Red, green, and blue lights flickered and intertwined, casting the narrow street in a bizarre, kaleidoscopic glow, like a flowing dreamscape brimming with desire. Shuo Zhou held two golden, crispy paper bowls in one hand, while the other was firmly clasped around Wan Ning, as if he were leading a wild, untamed pet. Wan Ning was swaddled in a loose, black trench coat, blending into the night like a shadow. But beneath the coat, a different scene unfolded. A specially made white cotton rope, like a second skin, clung tightly to her body. The knots at her wrists precisely and mercilessly crushed any thought of escape, her every heartbeat echoing the pulse of the rope. Even more agonizing was the restraint on her legs. A stubborn upward pull from her inner thighs all the way to her ankles, like a pair of invisible hands, forced her legs apart into an awkward, almost sacrilegious posture. Wearing black leather boots, Wan Ning was forced to stand on her tiptoes, her entire weight pressing down on Shuo Zhou’s arm. She wobbled behind him like a clumsy penguin just hatched from its shell. With every step, the rope along her inner thighs chafed her tender skin like sandpaper. Meanwhile, the dormant "little devil" inside her swayed gently within her most private folds with her every movement, sending waves of heart-stopping premonition. "Mmm… slower… walk, you stupid old man," Wan Ning bit her lower lip, almost drawing blood. She tried to maintain a calm expression, but a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead, with a few strands of hair sticking to it, making her look both disheveled and alluring. Shuo Zhou clearly relished her appearance. He deliberately slowed his pace, his peripheral vision scanning her like a newly completed artwork on public display. He’d glance up at the sky, then stop to look at a roadside stall, leisurely and at ease. Wan Ning, however, had to freeze in place. Worse still, if she tried to put her feet down to relieve the ache in her toes, the upward pull would instantly tighten, causing her inner thigh muscles to throb with pain. The vibrator inside her would seize the opportunity to grind against her most sensitive spot, like a mischievous demon. "We're here, eat up quickly, it'll be bad if it gets cold." Shuo Zhou stopped at a clear spot on some steps. He didn't immediately offer the food. Instead, he reached inside and precisely located the switch with the green light, pressing it gently. The momentary "silence" almost made Wan Ning feel faint. She let out a long sigh of relief. Before she could even feel grateful, a scalding hot takoyaki ball was brought to her lips. She eagerly leaned forward and took a bite. The crispy exterior, the soft, chewy interior, and the sweet and savory sauce mixed with the umami of bonito flakes exploded on her tongue. It was so delicious she couldn't help but close her eyes. Just as she was about to swallow, to savor this rare treat amidst her torment, she suddenly felt the "devil" inside her, which had just settled down, start to stir again. Damn Shuo Zhou, his eyes narrowed, he had secretly opened Pandora's box once more. "Buzz—" A barely audible vibration, yet it felt like a depth charge detonating inside her. "Mmm—!" Wan Ning let out a muffled groan, her body jerking violently, her teeth nearly clamping down on her tongue. A powerful wave of numbness surged from her core, shooting up her spine to her brain, leaving her mind blank for a second, almost dropping the takoyaki ball. "Is it good?" Shuo Zhou lowered his head, looking at her lips, flushed pink and white from pain and pleasure, and asked deliberately, his eyes full of teasing. "G-good…" Wan Ning forced out the words with difficulty, her throat dry as if she'd swallowed sand. She tried to control her trembling legs, but the vibration frequency inside her grew higher and higher. The foreign object felt embedded in her flesh, each friction carrying an aggression that threatened to drive her mad. She felt like an overfilled balloon, on the verge of drowning in her escalating desire. Just then, a clear, childish voice drifted from nearby, like a sharp knife, instantly slicing through the ambiguous torment. "Mommy, look at that pretty big sister, she walks like… like a penguin dancing!" A little boy, his short legs trotting, ran over and pointed at Wan Ning, saying in a milky voice. His mother followed, smiling as she patted his head, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Is the little girl's leg hurt? How can you talk like that, child!" Shame, like high-voltage current, surged to Wan Ning's head, hotter than the vibration inside her. She was instantly terrified and opened her mouth to explain that she had been kidnapped by a bad uncle and was being forced, but the takoyaki ball was still in her mouth, only allowing meaningless "mm-mm" sounds to escape. Her cheeks flushed crimson, like ripe tomatoes. But after a moment, Wan Ning's eyes shifted. In their watery depths, glistening with pleasure, a mischievous glint flickered. She lowered her head slightly and, in a mysterious, ghost-storytelling tone, said to the little boy: "There's a wicked little devil causing trouble inside big sister. Oh, and this little devil was put there by that bad uncle next to us." As if still not satisfied, she added, her voice even lower, as if sharing a huge secret: "This uncle is a super bad guy type. Stay far away, don't let him trick you! He loves tricking kids like you the most!" The little boy nodded, as if he understood. His clear, black-grape eyes darted between Shuo Zhou and Wan Ning. He seemed not to understand what a "little devil" was, or what "put inside" meant, but he understood the term "bad uncle." So, he turned his head and, with an extremely serious, almost righteous expression, stared at Shuo Zhou and declared loudly: "Bad uncle! Why did you summon a little devil to bully big sister!" Shuo Zhou carried Wan Ning into the bedroom and gently placed her on the soft bed. He didn't turn on the lights, only pulled back the heavy curtains. The cool moonlight poured in like mercury, casting a sacred silver edge over everything in the room. Shuo Zhou crouched down and began to unbutton her windbreaker. His movements were slow, with an almost reverent piety. As the black windbreaker was slowly opened, like a blooming black rose, revealing the core that was confined within, Shuo Zhou's breath hitched for a moment. Under the moonlight, the delicate, shapely young girl's body was outlined by pure white ropes, creating a breathtaking beauty. This was not mere bondage, but a living, warm work of art. The rope chest harness lifted and shaped the soft undulations of her breasts, the knot precisely positioned below her sternum, like an exquisite, seductive badge. The two main ropes, extending from the base of her thighs, were like two sacred beams of light, tracing her long legs before disappearing into the restraints around her ankles. The ropes dug deeply into her snow-white skin, leaving behind pink, ambiguous marks. The moonlight flowed over these marks, giving the compressed flesh a translucent, jade-like texture. The pure moonlight and the forbidden ropes, the sacred maiden and the fallen posture – these two极度 contradictory elements merged perfectly at this moment, exuding a dizzying, fatal attraction that made one want to explore, to commit a monstrous sin. Shuo Zhou's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty as he swallowed a bitter mouthful of saliva. His throat felt dry and tight, and the beast that had been suppressed all night was clawing furiously at his reason, roaring to break free and completely possess, to destroy this perfect work of art. "Madman..." Shuo Zhou cursed himself inwardly. Shuo Zhou forced himself to look away, but his gaze was drawn as if by a magnet, fixed on her. Those rope marks were drawn by his own hands, that flushed skin ignited by his own touch. A perverse, sinful satisfaction coiled around his heart like a vine, making him both proud and ashamed of himself. After a long while, Shuo Zhou reached out. Instead of tearing them off, he began to meticulously search for the origin of the knots, as if unwrapping a precious gift. As each firm knot, tied by his own hands, was picked open by his fingertips and slowly loosened, he felt as if he were dismantling a beautiful yet sinful temple he had built himself. The last rope was untied, and the sensation of restraint vanished instantly. Wan Ning, still asleep, instinctively tried to bring her legs together, curling up. "Hiss..." A faint gasp of pain escaped her throat. Her muscles had long since stiffened from the prolonged restraint, and this sudden release brought a sharp, needle-like ache. Her beautiful brows furrowed tightly, like a kitten that had been hurt and could only curl up and whimper helplessly. Shuo Zhou's heart felt as if it had been pricked by a needle, and a wave of self-reproach washed over him. He immediately got up and fetched a warm, soft towel from the bathroom. Instead of rubbing, he gently placed the hot towel on her legs, allowing the heat to slowly penetrate and soothe her tense muscles. His long fingers, like a pianist, carefully avoided the deepest red marks through the warm towel, using gentle pressure to comfort her stiff muscles. But beneath the towel, his fingertips inevitably brushed against the sensitive, still-warm skin again and again. The delicate sensation, through the towel, shot through his skin like an electric current, echoing the roar of the beast in his heart. Yet, the more he soothed, the more his desire surged. Under Shuo Zhou's ministrations, Wan Ning's tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed, and she let out a contented purr, like a kitten. Hearing this sound, Shuo Zhou's heart felt as if it were gently squeezed by a warm little hand. All desire and self-reproach were replaced at this moment by a softer, more complex emotion. He thought, if only time could stop at this moment. No noisy mortal world, no transgression of morality, only the "little succubus" he both loved and feared, and a soft her who needed his care and would act spoiled towards him. But Shuo Zhou knew clearly – this was escapism and irresponsibility. When the sun rose tomorrow, the dream would end... "Hoo," Shuo Zhou sighed, his gaze finally falling on the most mysterious area, hidden beneath the hem of her windbreaker. His steady fingers trembled slightly as he carefully removed her stockings. The mischievous vibrator, with a small string hanging out, was still there. Shuo Zhou took another deep breath and, with two fingers, gently and steadily pinched the string. He could feel that the other end of the vibrator was still deeply embedded in that warm, moist secret place. Shuo Zhou held his breath and began to pull slowly. It was an indescribable sensation. As he moved, the wet vibrator, carrying the unique scent of a young girl, was peeled out bit by bit from the tight, warm cavity. With every inch he pulled, he could feel the soft inner walls unconsciously contracting and enveloping, as if trying to hold onto the "demon" that had violated it all night. Finally, with a soft "pop," the vibrator was completely removed. It lay in Shuo Zhou's palm, dripping wet, shimmering with ambiguous moisture in the moonlight, and emitting that sweet yet cloying fragrance unique to Wan Ning, a mixture of body scent and desire "What's that smell? Is it perfume? I sprayed strawberry on myself!" Wan Ning instinctively leaned forward, wanting to show off. "I know—no bunny tail!!" Shuo Zhou's fingers slid down her back, stopping at her buttocks, and he patted them lightly. "It's a real shame a bunny girl doesn't have a tail. I happen to have a mobile bunny tail right here, though it'll need some special cleaning before it can be attached." Wan Ning froze for a moment, then her face flushed crimson. She instinctively clamped her legs together, her earlier bravado deflating by half. "What... what do you want to do? An enema?" Wan Ning stumbled back a step, her voice trembling slightly. "No! That'll be so uncomfortable, and embarrassing..." "Don't panic." Shuo Zhou picked up a bottle of warm water and a simple enema kit from the nightstand, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "Just a little bit in, to help you relax." "No! I don't want to!" Wan Ning began to struggle, covering her rear with her hands like a startled kitten. "You're a pervert! A big pervert! Why would you do this to a girl!" Shuo Zhou ignored her protests, stepping forward and pressing her shoulders, pushing her down onto the edge of the bed. "Don't move, you'll hurt yourself if you struggle. You don't want that... Besides, it'll feel good." Shuo Zhou gently soothed the terrified little bunny. Though Wan Ning was scared, her body betrayed her. Under Shuo Zhou's control, she slowly lay down. She squeezed her eyes shut, her hands gripping the bedsheet beneath her, knuckles white. She muttered incessantly, "You're a demon... you're a bad, bad man... I'm going to tell Zao Ning... I'm going to tell everyone..." Shuo Zhou picked up the enema kit, filled it with warm water, and gently inserted it into her. Wan Ning's body jolted violently, and a muffled groan escaped her throat. The warm liquid slowly flowed in, the feeling of fullness making her uncomfortable yet strangely stimulating. She felt the liquid spreading inside her intestines, an unfamiliar foreign sensation that made her want to curl up. But Shuo Zhou's hand pressed on her stomach, stopping her. "Relax, don't tense up," Shuo Zhou murmured, pushing slowly while gently massaging her abdomen to help the liquid spread. "Mmm... so full... so strange..." Wan Ning bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. She felt like her body was being filled, the shame making her want to disappear into the ground. "You're a pervert... a real pervert... *sob sob sob*..." "Just bear with it, it'll be over soon." Shuo Zhou waited a moment, then, feeling the liquid had filled her sufficiently, withdrew the enema. Wan Ning let out a long sigh, her tense body relaxing slightly. But Shuo Zhou wasn't finished. He retrieved an exquisite silicone butt plug with a white bunny tail from the nightstand. "Next, this is to prevent you from 'leaking'." At the word "leaking," Wan Ning's face turned scarlet, all the way to her ears. She stared at the object in horror, shaking her head frantically. "You old creep, that's enough!!! No!!!" "Be good." Shuo Zhou dipped the butt plug in lubricant, then cupped Wan Ning's firm buttocks, gently parting them. The poor little bunny could only hold her breath nervously, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to escape the terrifying reality. Shuo Zhou's movements were practiced and gentle as he slowly pushed the butt plug in. "Mmph!" Wan Ning let out a short gasp, her body jerking. Shuo Zhou gently patted her slightly distended lower abdomen, then picked up another bottle of lubricant. He carefully and slowly applied it to the butt plug, then cupped her buttocks again, his fingers gently pressing on the small opening that was already beginning to accommodate it. "It might feel a bit full, just bear with it," Shuo Zhou murmured, pushing the butt plug in a little deeper. This time, Wan Ning's breathing became ragged. The silicone rod slid along the folds of her rectal wall, each push scraping against the most sensitive inner lining. The feeling of fullness intensified instantly, as if the warm water in her belly was being squeezed into that tight space. "Ah... haa... too... too deep..." Wan Ning's voice became broken and husky. Her fingers, which had been gripping the bedsheet, loosened instantly, and she clutched Shuo Zhou's arm, her nails digging into his flesh. With a final gentle push, Shuo Zhou pressed down on the base of the bunny tail, fully inserting the slender tail. Wan Ning's body tensed, like a drawn bow, and a long, tearful moan escaped her throat. In that instant, an indescribable tingling sensation shot from her tailbone to the crown of her head. At first, it was just a faint itch, like an electric current coursing through her body. But soon, the sensation changed. With each rise and fall of her breath, the silicone rod shifted slightly inside her, each friction point pressing against the mysterious area known as the "G-spot." The warm liquid sloshed in her intestines with her movements, bumping against the foreign object, bringing an unprecedented, strange sensation of emptiness and fullness. "Ha... haa... so strange..." A mist clouded Wan Ning's vision. Her furrowed brow slowly relaxed, and the corners of her lips curved upwards uncontrollably. The tingling pleasure spreading from her rear end made her mind go blank, and even her curses became soft and weak. "You're... a bad guy... *sob sob*... how... how can this feel so good..." Seeing her dazed by pleasure, a triumphant glint flashed in Shuo Zhou's eyes. He reached out and pinched the white bunny tail sticking out, giving it a gentle tug. "Mmm!" Wan Ning's whole body trembled. The sensation of being pulled almost made her cry out. Her body instinctively tried to clamp her legs together, but the large foreign object blocked her, trapping her tightly. She could only writhe helplessly on the bed. "Don't... don't pull... that... *whimper*..." Although the foreign sensation was dominant, it wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary, as the liquid flowed and the butt plug shifted, a hidden, shameful pleasure was growing wildly within her. She felt like a doll stuffed with toys again, not only with liquid flowing inside her but also with something constantly reminding her of her current predicament. "See, you're actually enjoying it, aren't you?" Shuo Zhou leaned down and whispered in her ear, his fingers sliding down her ribs. Wan Ning panted, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed as she stared at the ceiling. Her lips moved, but she couldn't form a complete sentence. How could Wan Ning admit what Shuo Zhou said? Even though the feeling of being filled made her both ashamed and excited, even though the tingling pleasure surged like waves, almost drowning her reason. "I... I'm not... you old creep... it's just... at most... I feel a little strange..." Wan Ning mumbled stubbornly, her body still trembling uncontrollably—her swollen belly rose and fell with her breathing, filled with warm water and a terrifying foreign object. "Alright, now you're temporarily a qualified bunny girl~ Come on, my model." Shuo Zhou stood up and walked to a decorative Roman column in the corner of the room, which was specifically for restraints. Wan Ning wanted to stand up and retort, but found that Shuo Zhou had, at some point, produced a pair of black leather handcuffs and was walking towards her step by step. Then, Shuozhou, like a patient sculptor, readjusted Wan Ning's pose. He cupped her slender waist, tilting her upper body sharply to one side, allowing the "little hills" encased in the white bodysuit to be pulled more full and erect by gravity, as if they would spill out of the thin fabric at any moment. Next, he slowly parted her legs, knees slightly bent, creating a visually striking "M" shape. This not only showcased her long, straight calf lines but also awkwardly positioned the fluffy white bunny tail between her buttocks, trembling with each breath, as if in silent provocation. Finally, Shuozhou secured the vibrator to her thigh, directly aimed at her garden entrance. "There, the pose is perfect now," Shuozhou stepped back, clapping his hands, admiring his "masterpiece" with satisfaction. Wan Ning had initially tried to maintain a cool pose, but as soon as she relaxed, the vibrator on her leg buzzed to life. "Buzz—!" A powerful and deep vibration erupted from within her! This was not the weak, feather-like tickle from yesterday, but an aggressive resonance, like a drumbeat, from the outside in! It vibrated precisely at the mysterious zone and, through the tape on her thigh, transmitted the sensation doubly throughout her entire body. "Ah—!" But what truly shattered her instantly was not just the assault from the front. It was the intense vibration that seemed to pierce through the thin flesh, directly transmitting to the rear—into the secret realm filled with warm water and tightly plugged by the silicone butt plug! "Mmm... Ah...!" Wan Ning let out a muffled, completely distorted whimper. She felt like a prisoner trapped between front and back, with nowhere to escape. At the front, a cold, hard, high-frequency invasion, each vibration like a strike on the most sensitive nerves deep within her honey pot, making her soul leave her body. At the rear, a warm, soft, oppressively full sensation. The infused warm water sloshed and churned within her intestines with the vibrations from the front, like a school of startled fish. Each surge pushed the butt plug deeper, pressing against another unknown sensitive area. Two entirely different yet equally fatal stimuli intertwined and resonated perfectly at this moment. The vibration at the front transmitted to the foreign object at the rear, and the fullness at the rear, in turn, intensified the tightness and sensitivity at the front. Wan Ning felt she was no longer herself, but a container filled to the brim with pleasure, about to explode. "No... I can't... it feels so strange... inside... inside is fighting...呜呜..." Wan Ning's crying had completely changed tone. It was no longer a simple plea for mercy, but an instinctive moan after being utterly destroyed by unknown pleasure. Shuozhou walked up to her, hands in his pockets, a cruel and satisfied smile on his lips, his eyes full of teasing. "What? Can't take it already? This is just the beginning, my little succubus." "Who, who can't take it!" Wan Ning bit her lip, trying to regain her composure, but the waves of sensation from both front and back, each stronger than the last, made her voice tremble noticeably, almost to the point of tears. "This, this much... that's it? Don't, don't underestimate me!" "Oh? Is that so?" Shuozhou slowly picked up the drawing board from the table and shook it. "Then don't move. The base time is thirty minutes. Any movement adds 5 minutes, and if you can't help but climax... hehe, that's an extra 15 minutes. No one is allowed to remove them before then." "Huh? Add time? You... you demon! You perverted old man!" Wan Ning's eyes widened, her voice filled with disbelief and anger. "Yes, yes, I'm a pervert," Shuozhou replied perfunctorily, then turned to sit down, picked up his brush, and began to draw Wan Ning with concentration. "Then let's begin, my little model." Wan Ning was so angry she wanted to bite him, but her body's reactions were incredibly honest. The terrifying pleasure attacking her from both front and back was systematically destroying every inch of her reason. For the first minute, Wan Ning could still maintain her pose, only a fine sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead. She could clearly feel that each vibration from the front caused ripples of warm water at the back, like a string of firecrackers igniting in her belly. By the third minute, Wan Ning's voice began to change. Her sharp scolding turned into broken, tearful moans: "No... don't... the back... the back is so full... the front... the front is numb again... I'm... I'm going to split..." By the fifth minute, Wan Ning's previously straight legs began to tremble uncontrollably, her knees turning pink from the friction of her stockings. She tried to relieve the inescapable stimulation by wriggling her hips, but this action only made the butt plug churn more violently in her intestines, each friction bringing a wave of tingling that made her scalp crawl. "Haa... haa... slow, slow down... I can't... Shuozhou... Gege..." Wan Ning tried to use "Gege" to get Shuozhou's attention, but her voice lacked its usual authority, replaced by a thick, almost melting tone of coquetry and pleading. By the tenth minute, Wan Ning's gaze had become unfocused. She panted heavily, her chest heaving, her "little hills" appearing even more alluring beneath the bodysuit. Her lips were bitten pale, and she mumbled incoherently, "Bad guy... big bad guy...呜呜... how... how is this so comfortable... my stomach... my stomach is going to be ruined too..." By the fifteenth minute, the "little杂鱼" had completely given up struggling. Her hands hung limply above her head, her fingers unconsciously grasping at the air. The pleasure surged wave after wave, the high-frequency vibration at the front and the full pressure at the rear merging into an overwhelming, annihilating ecstasy that she could not distinguish, only endure. "No... don't... I'm going to break... haa... I'm... I'm coming..." By the twentieth minute, Wan Ning could no longer speak complete sentences. She simply closed her eyes, her brows furrowed tightly, saliva trickling from the corner of her mouth, revealing a dazed and foolish expression. Sweat had matted her hair to her face, making Wan Ning look both disheveled and beautiful. Her slightly distended abdomen rose and fell with the rhythm of the vibrator, as if a reveling demon truly resided within. By the twenty-fifth minute, Wan Ning couldn't hold back any longer. The feeling of her reason about to break its dam made her entire body tense, poised for release. She could feel her honey pot contracting and spasming wildly, while her rear intestines convulsed violently from the uncontrollable pleasure. The two forces collided and clashed within her body, searching for a common exit. "Ah—! I'm... I'm coming! Gege! Don't draw anymore! Quickly... quickly help me... ahhh—!" She let out a long scream, a mixture of pain and extreme pleasure, her body arching sharply like an electrocuted shrimp, before collapsing completely, the bells on her feet emitting a series of sharp, desolate clangs before falling silent. At the thirtieth minute, Shuozhou finally put down his brush. Seeing Wan Ning on the verge of collapse, he still walked over, unable to bear it completely. "Little杂鱼, still talking tough?" With those words, Shuozhou pressed the off button on the remote. The oppressive vibration that had tormented her for half an hour abruptly ceased. Wan Ning's body suddenly went limp, like a ribbon with all its strength drained, and she sagged against the handcuffs, only her internal body still trembling slightly, spasmodically, from the aftershocks. When Zao Ning's consciousness surfaced from the thick, viscous ink of sleep, it was a slow, arduous ascent. A suffocating foreignness assaulted her – something was forcibly stretching the depths of her throat, a dryness and swelling that instantly ignited every sense. Her instinct was to clamp her jaw shut, but a hard, spherical object blocked her, forcing her into a humiliating, slightly agape posture. With involuntary swallowing reflexes, saliva trickled uncontrollably from the corners of her mouth, wetting the skin of her chin, bringing a cool, itchy sensation. She instinctively tried to raise a hand to her throat, only to find her arms pinned rigidly to her sides. She could barely manage to lift her heavy eyelids. What greeted her was a vast floor-to-ceiling mirror, reflecting her disheveled and bizarre state without reservation. The girl in the mirror was her, yet a completely unfamiliar her. It was a body exquisitely encased, utterly tamed. A meticulously crafted black leather catsuit, starting from below her neck, clung to every curve of her body with seamless precision. This was no cheap imitation, but a genuine handmade piece. The leather's surface shimmered with a dark, alluring sheen, like flowing liquid night under the light, adhering to every rise and fall of her skin, outlining a mature and dangerous silhouette she had never known. And in her mouth, forcibly stretched open, was a round, black gag, its straps cinched tightly around her jaw, preventing her from closing her lips. She could only gasp for air, emitting muffled whimpers, her once fair chin flushed with a rosy hue from engorged blood. What Zao Ning found most suffocating was the integrated waist cincher of the catsuit. It was like a merciless, strong arm, gripping her waist tightly beneath her ribs. This was no ordinary restraint, but a violent, structural reshaping. The rigid inner lining of the leather acted like a vise, crushing her soft ribs inward with all its might, forcing her abdominal cavity upward, her stomach aching from the pressure. Every breath became a struggle against death. She had to exert all her strength to draw in a meager wisp of air, and with every exhale, she could clearly feel the cincher stubbornly resisting, tightening its grip without yielding an inch. This constant, inescapable pressure made her head spin from oxygen deprivation, stars dancing before her eyes, while her senses were amplified to their extreme. She could clearly feel her heartbeat, like a trapped bird in a cage, pounding frantically in her chest, each beat resonating painfully with the cincher's tight embrace, sending jolts of pain through her ribs. Zao Ning's arms were completely encased within the catsuit's sleeves, but the true horror lay at their ends. Her hands were forcibly clenched into tight fists, then sealed within equally rigid, iron-hard leather cuffs. Not a sliver of space, not an iota of play. Her fingers were immobile, unable to bend, unable even to curl in the slightest. They were like two gems embedded at the ends of her arms, completely stripping her of her most primal human abilities of defense and exploration. This utter powerlessness felt more despairing than any chains, as if her hands were no longer her own, but merely decorative appendages to this "work of art." Her gaze drifted downward. Her legs were encased in matching black thigh-high stockings, extending to the very top of her thighs, their lace trim a bizarre contrast to her current predicament. On her feet were a pair of stilettos she had never dared to try. The heels were needle-thin, at least fifteen centimeters long, forcing her ankles into a stretched, vulnerable angle. Her toes were forced downward, bearing the entire weight of her body, every bone in her feet emitting a pained groan. These shoes made it impossible to stand, to walk, even to lie down steadily. She could only be displayed in a humiliating and awkward posture, her body's curves passively showcased, each movement like dancing on knife-edges. "Mmm... mmm..." Zao Ning's throat emitted more urgent whimpers, saliva mixing with tears, trickling uncontrollably from the corners of her mouth, soaking the leather on her chest, leaving dark, wet streaks. She tried to struggle, to break free from this bizarre "clothing." However, all her efforts only resulted in more painful friction between leather and skin, and waves of dizzying suffocation. Every tremor tightened the cincher further, every breath was accompanied by the aching of her jaw from the gag. She was like a butterfly caught in a spider's web, the more she struggled, the tighter she became bound, until all her strength was exhausted, leaving her to despairingly feel her life slowly draining away. "Click." A crisp metallic sound exploded in Zao Ning's ears. Zao Ning's gaze was drawn to Su Mu, who stood beside her, holding a small, exquisite brass key. She had just used this key to tighten a small buckle at the small of Zao Ning's back. The buckle was tiny, yet it felt like a final verdict, locking the straitjacket completely shut. "Don't waste your energy, classmate Zao Ning," Su Mu said, like an elegant critic, pointing to her proud work. "This is a 'beginner's set' I specially customized for you. Every buckle, every inch of leather, has been precisely calculated. The more you struggle, the tighter it will become." As she spoke, Su Mu's fingers glided lightly over the surface of the straitjacket, as if playing a piano. Wherever her fingertips touched, a series of "click, click" sounds echoed. She was checking and tightening the hidden clasps at the seams. Zao Ning could clearly feel her restraints deepening with each crisp sound. The waist cincher tightened, her arms were held more firmly, and even her legs were fixed in a slightly spread position by a clever strap structure. Despair washed over Zao Ning like a tide. "Stop struggling. You don't want your secrets discovered. Besides, I think you quite enjoy this feeling of being restrained, don't you?" Su Mu's voice was as soft as if she were lulling a baby to sleep, yet it carried an undeniable authority. She leaned down, her warm breath fanning Zao Ning's ear, sending a shiver through her. Zao Ning shook her head desperately, trying to express her confusion and protest. However, the waist cincher, which was almost crushing her ribs, restricted the movement of her upper body. This violent movement only brought on a nauseating wave of dizziness. The heavy straitjacket felt like countless ants gnawing at her skin, each taut inch accompanied by an ache. The gag locked her fear in her throat, allowing only muffled, meaningless "woos" to escape. Su Mu watched her struggle, a deeper smile playing on her lips. She wasn't angry at Zao Ning's resistance; instead, she seemed to be admiring a piece of art being meticulously sculpted. Su Mu reached out and gently lifted Zao Ning's chin, forcing her wide, terrified eyes to meet her own. "Good girl, an excellent class monitor should learn to control herself~~ Let me show you something beautiful~~" Su Mu's voice held an irresistible magic. She pulled a thick, heavy book from her back pocket, along with several yellow-edged photographs. Zao Ning's eyes widened, her gaze following Su Mu's finger to the book—"The Art of Restraint: An Ultimate Dialogue of Rope and Beauty." Then, her attention was captured by the photographs. They clearly depicted the afterimages of being bound by various ropes and straps, the red marks on the skin shockingly vivid, some deeply imprinted into the flesh, others flushed with blood. Some were hers, and some belonged to other girls... "I actually discovered it long ago," Su Mu said, pressing a photo against Zao Ning's cheek and gently stroking it. "And I happen to have a little expertise in this area, so I wanted to..."