Is my mom a rope mistress?

That was Tang Wan. Her mother. The woman who should have been at home scooping litter for Nian Gao, binge-watching TV dramas, and preparing for the flower shop's inventory tomorrow, was standing under the spotlight, a bundle of dark brown rope in her hand, her expression calm and focused. "Today's demonstration is a basic variation of the rear tie," Tang Wan's voice rang out, the same gentle tone, but with a steadiness and confidence Tang Bao had never heard before. "It's suitable for beginners, highly safe, and very visually appealing. Feel free to ask questions as we go." There were hushed whispers from the audience: "Teacher Tang has such a commanding presence today." "I heard she's been practicing rope for over twenty years, her technique is incredibly clean." Tang Bao's mind went blank, a buzzing in her ears. She watched her mother walk to the performance mat, where a young male model was already kneeling, his upper body bare, his skin smooth under the lights. Tang Wan's movements were fluid, without a trace of hesitation. She first gently pressed the model's shoulders to help him relax, then the rope danced from her fingertips, looping around his shoulders, passing under his arms, and intertwining behind his back into a perfect diamond pattern. The rope tightened with a faint friction sound, and the model's body trembled slightly, his breathing deepening. "It's crucial to leave a finger's width of space here at the wrist," Tang Wan explained calmly as she adjusted the knot. "Too loose and it won't be restrictive; too tight and it will compress the nerves. The essence of Shibari is control, not harm. You must constantly monitor the other person's breathing and reactions." Her fingers lightly pressed the back of the model's neck, a gesture of reassurance, gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority. The model let out a low sigh, his shoulders relaxing, his entire being seemingly held in a tender captivity by the rope, or perhaps entrusted to some deeper trust. Tang Bao stared intently at those hands. These were the hands she had watched her entire life – hands that had bandaged her scraped knees, made countless breakfasts, and washed her clothes innumerable times. Now, these hands were weaving another language with a skill and elegance she found utterly alien. Was this really her mom? The same Tang Wan who always tied her shoelaces in impossible knots, who always set her phone font to the largest size, who had fallen for telemarketing scams multiple times and foolishly transferred money? "Hold this position for five minutes," Tang Wan stepped back, tilting her head slightly to admire her work. "Keep your breathing steady and feel the dialogue between the rope and your body." Warm applause erupted from the audience. Tang Wan bowed slightly, a faint smile gracing her lips. Her gaze swept across the audience— Tang Bao immediately lowered her head, her heart pounding, threatening to leap from her throat. She stared fixedly at her canvas shoes, counting the wood grain on the floor. In her ears, the audience's admiration, her mother's answers to questions, the rustling of the rope against skin. Every second stretched into an eternity. The noisy dispersal after the performance finally began. Tang Bao waited until people started moving around her before grabbing her bag and rushing out, her head down. "Hey, your cup—" the blue-haired girl called from behind, but Tang Bao couldn't hear anything. She ran out of the cultural and creative park, the night wind biting cold as it rushed into her sweater. She hailed a taxi, her voice trembling as she gave her home address. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror but asked no questions. Upon arriving home, Nian Gao greeted her at the door, meowing and rubbing against her legs for his canned food. Tang Bao mechanically changed her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the wall clock. 9:17 PM. Mom usually got home around ten, if she was "visiting a friend for mahjong." She hugged Nian Gao, her fingers unconsciously stroking his fur. Her mind was filled with the images from earlier: her mother's focused profile, the way the rope danced in her fingertips, that effortless control over everything. This wasn't the demeanor of a forty-six-year-old flower shop owner. This was... a true rope artist. 9:50 PM, the sound of a key turning in the lock. Tang Bao's body tensed instantly. The door opened, and Tang Wan walked in, still wearing the same black turtleneck sweater, her hair let down, looking no different than usual. She carried a bag of fruit and feigned surprise upon seeing her daughter on the sofa: "Oh, you're back so early today? Didn't you say you had to work late?" Her tone was terrifyingly natural, as if nothing had happened. Tang Bao opened her mouth, finding her throat too dry to make a sound. "What's wrong? You look so pale," Tang Wan put down the fruit and walked over, reaching out to touch her forehead. "Do you have a fever?" Tang Bao instinctively flinched away. Tang Wan's hand froze in mid-air, her eyebrows raising. That momentary look in her eyes instantly reminded Tang Bao of her demeanor at the rope studio – calm, focused, with an all-encompassing composure. "Mom," Tang Bao finally spoke, her voice hoarse, "I went to the cultural and creative park in the east of the city tonight." Tang Wan's movements completely stopped. The air fell silent for a few seconds. Nian Gao, unsettled, jumped down from Tang Bao's lap and slipped into the bedroom. "Oh?" Tang Wan slowly straightened up, crossing her arms, her posture relaxed yet reminding Tang Bao of her stance at the performance area. "Where did you go?" "Rope House." Tang Bao stared into her mother's eyes, enunciating each word. "I saw your performance. Mom, you tied... really well." Tang Wan's expression shifted from surprise to a complex, indescribable look. She was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a soft laugh. It wasn't her usual gentle laugh, but one tinged with a hint of helplessness, acceptance, and a touch of relief. "So, you found out," she sighed, unbuttoning her coat and hanging it on the rack. "I thought I was being quite discreet." She walked over to the sofa and sat down, side-by-side with her daughter, with the patch of cat fur left by Nian Gao between them. The mother and daughter sat like that, the living room lamp casting a warm, quiet yellow glow. "When did you start?" Tang Bao asked. "Shibari? Or being discovered by you?" Tang Wan turned her head to look at her, her voice soft. "...Both." "Come here," Tang Wan patted the bed beside her. Tang Bao walked over and sat down, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She smelled the faint scent of her mother's shower gel, mixed with the unique herbal aroma of the hemp rope, making the entire night feel a little hazy. "Today, I'll teach you something different," Tang Wan's voice was exceptionally low and soft in the dim light. "The complete version of the rear tie, plus leg ties. It will last a bit longer than yesterday. If you feel you can't take it, knock three times on the edge of the bed, and I'll stop immediately. Understand?" "Understood." "Take off your nightgown," Tang Wan said. "Just wear your underwear. The rope direct contact with your skin will make the sensations clearer." Tang Bao's face instantly burned. But her mother's gaze was calm and natural, as if discussing the most ordinary matter. She bit her lip and slowly took off her nightgown, leaving only her underwear, her hands instinctively covering her chest. "Lie down, face down," Tang Wan instructed. Tang Bao complied, burying her face in the soft pillow, her arms placed at her sides. Behind her, the mattress dipped gently as her mother knelt beside her. The moment the rope touched her right wrist, that familiar yet unfamiliar sensation returned. Like yesterday, it started with a single column tie, but today the movements were slower and more meticulous. The rope wrapped around her wrist twice, a knot was tied, tightened, leaving just the right amount of slack. Then came the left hand, with the same rhythm. Tang Bao could clearly feel the friction of each fiber, the pressure from each tightening. "Bring your hands behind your back," Tang Wan commanded softly. Tang Bao moved her hands behind her back, wrists together. She felt her mother connect them with a long rope, not simply tied, but intricately wound, forming a taut bridge between her wrists. "This is a wrist connection tie," Tang Wan explained as she worked. "The most basic of basics, but done correctly, you won't be able to break free at all." The moment she tightened the rope, Tang Bao tried to move her wrists. The rope immediately responded, digging deeply into her skin. She struggled once, then again, her wrists firmly secured at her lower back, completely immobilized. That tangible, inescapable sense of restraint flowed through her like a warm current. "Don't rush to feel it, this is just the beginning," Tang Wan gently patted her buttocks. The rope continued upward, extending from her wrists to her shoulders, wrapping around her upper arms, forming a stable loop under her armpits. The rough fibers rubbed against her sensitive skin, causing a subtle itch that quickly turned into a solid pressure. "Upper arm tie," Tang Wan's voice was steady. "Working with the wrist tie, it renders your arms completely helpless." Her right arm, then her left arm, were each secured. Tang Bao tried to shrug her shoulders, only to find her arms locked completely behind her, like a meticulously wrapped gift that could no longer be opened. "Breathe, deeper," Tang Wan's palm pressed against her back. "Let me feel you." Tang Bao took a deep breath, and as her chest expanded, the rope tightened, like a firm yet gentle embrace from behind. But this was far from over. Tang Wan's hands moved to her ankles. Tang Bao instinctively pressed her legs together, but her mother gently patted her calf. "Relax, spread them a little." The rope touched her right ankle, wrapped around, and tied. Then her left ankle. Tang Wan connected them with a long rope, but not tightly bound together; each was independently restrained, with a subtle tension between them, keeping her legs slightly apart. "The key to leg ties is the angle," Tang Wan adjusted the rope. "Too tight is uncomfortable, too loose has no sensation. This angle... is just right." The moment it was tightened, Tang Bao felt her ankles gently pulled apart, her knees naturally bending, the muscles in her inner thighs stretching. It was a posture tinged with exposure, vulnerable, yet it gave her a strange sense of protected security. "The final step," Tang Wan's voice held a hint of anticipation. She extended the rope connecting her ankles upward, wrapping it around her calves, over her knees, and coiling a few times at the base of her thighs. The rope sank into her soft flesh, creating shallow grooves that further accentuated the curves of her legs. Then, she connected the end of the rope to the wrist restraints, forming a complete closed-loop system. Wrists, upper arms, ankles, thighs – her entire body was encompassed within the same net of rope. Tang Bao tried to move, and any slight movement would tug at the ropes all over her body. If she strained her wrists, her ankles would be pulled tighter; if she bent her knees, her shoulders would feel the tension. She was no longer a free person, but a complete and fragile existence redefined by the ropes. "How does it feel?" Tang Wan asked, her fingers lightly brushing over the knots on her back. Tang Bao buried her face deeply into the pillow, letting out a muffled sigh. She wanted to say so much – that the feeling far surpassed her imagination, that the rope against every inch of her skin felt like it was whispering to her, that she had never so clearly perceived her own body, her breath, her heartbeat. But in the end, she only managed a muffled reply: "...It's tight." "Tight is right," Tang Wan chuckled softly, her fingers tracing the path of the rope from her shoulders to her waist, then slowly sliding down to her thighs. "The rope is speaking. It's saying that you belong to me now. Your body, your breath, all your sensations, are decided by me." Her fingers stopped on the rope marks on her inner thighs, pressing gently. That spot was too sensitive, and Tang Bao's whole body trembled violently, as if all her blood rushed there, bringing a strange tingling and heat. "Do you feel it?" Tang Wan's voice was low. "I feel it..." Tang Bao's voice trembled. "Good," Tang Wan leaned down, her lips almost touching her ear. "Tonight, you will stay like this. I will watch you, keep you company. You don't need to do anything, just feel." She stood up and took something from the bedside table. Tang Bao couldn't see, only heard faint sounds, and then the mattress dipped again. "This is..." Tang Bao's voice trembled, but not from fear. "A little gift I collected," Tang Wan dangled the object in her hand, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It's remote-controlled, with several settings. I originally intended it for myself, but tonight... I want to share it with you." Tang Bao's face instantly flushed crimson. She knew exactly what it was, of course, but had never imagined seeing it in such a context, let alone with her own mother holding it, while she herself was bound behind her back, completely exposed. "Scared?" Tang Wan asked, her gaze as gentle as if coaxing a child. Tang Bao shook her head, her eyes involuntarily drawn to the little pink toy, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of her chest. "Then you want it." Tang Wan smiled, that same smile she wore on the rope-harness stage – composed "Unbind," Lin Xiao said, "Hands apart, legs apart, completely immobile." She started with the wrists. A soft rope threaded through the headboard, looped around Tang Bao's right wrist three times, tightened, and knotted. Then she pulled the rope to the other side, binding the left wrist, forcing her arms to spread into a 'T' shape. The rope dug into her skin. Tang Bao struggled, completely unable to move, her hands fixed to her sides, unable to bring them together. "Tight?" Lin Xiao asked. "...Tight," Tang Bao said, "But it's okay." Then came the ankles. Lin Xiao spread her legs apart and tied them to the footboard, also in an outstretched position, with restraints at the ankles, calves, and just above the knees. Tang Bao tried to bring her legs together, but it was impossible. The ropes dug into her inner thighs, forcing her to maintain a wide-legged stance, her most private parts exposed. "There," Lin Xiao said, admiring her work with satisfaction, "Can't move now, can you?" Tang Bao struggled again. Her wrists and ankles were completely still. Her body was stretched into a 'T' shape, making it impossible to curl up or turn over. "Next," Lin Xiao produced earplugs, pink foam ones, "Stuff these in, and you won't hear anything." She squeezed the earplugs flat and inserted them into Tang Bao's right ear. They expanded, filling the ear canal. The same for the left ear. Tang Bao blinked. The world suddenly went quiet. She could only hear her own heartbeat, as if from a great distance. Then the blindfold. Black silk. Lin Xiao tied it on her, the straps cinched tight, blocking out all light. Tang Bao plunged into darkness, unable to see where Lin Xiao was, only feeling the texture of the sheets and the restraint of the ropes. Finally, the gag. Lin Xiao produced a pink one, smaller than the previous ones but longer. "This will push your tongue deeper, make you drool more, but you won't be able to speak." She put it in Tang Bao's mouth, wrapping the strap around the back of her head and tying it securely. The gag forced her mouth open, pressing her tongue down. Saliva immediately began to secrete, overflowing from the corners of her mouth and trickling down her chin. Tang Bao tried to swallow, but couldn't, only letting it flow. "There," Lin Xiao's voice came from far away, but Tang Bao couldn't make out the words, only feeling the vibrations, "Now you're my little toy, all night long." She reached out, her fingers finding Tang Bao's breasts. Tang Bao shivered, but she couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak, only feel—Lin Xiao's fingers pinched her nipples, then pinched again, before her whole palm covered them, kneading, squeezing. "Hard," Lin Xiao's voice, Tang Bao couldn't hear it, but she could feel her speaking from the vibration of her lips, "You're hard after only ten minutes of being tied, so sensitive." She squeezed harder, her nails digging into the skin around Tang Bao's nipples, then slid down, moving towards Tang Bao's crotch. Her underwear was still on, but Lin Xiao's fingers slipped under the edge, reaching directly underneath. "Wet," Lin Xiao laughed, "Tied up, can't see, can't hear, drooling, and wet down there. Bao'er, have you been waiting for this?" Tang Bao writhed, but the ropes restricted her, allowing only small tremors. She couldn't dodge Lin Xiao's fingers. The finger stirred inside her, occasionally brushing against sensitive spots, making her body tense, her drool flow more, trickling from her mouth to her neck, soaking her. Lin Xiao played for a while, then withdrew her hand, wiping it on Tang Bao's chest. Then she took out a small object—a bullet vibrator, pink, mini-model. She tucked it into Tang Bao's underwear, wedging it between her thighs, not inserting it, just pressing it against the outside, then switched it on. Tang Bao arched her back sharply, but the ropes held her, allowing only small tremors. The vibration came from below, through her underwear, stimulating her already wet skin. But she couldn't bring her legs together, couldn't dodge, could only endure, drool constantly flowing, making muffled sounds, unable to hear how pathetic she was. "This is on," Lin Xiao said in her ear, though she couldn't hear, "I've set it for an hour. You'll deal with it yourself. I'm going to take a shower, and I'll check on you when I get back." She really left. Tang Bao lay in the darkness, hearing nothing, only feeling—the vibrator buzzing, the ropes constricting, the drool flowing. Time stretched infinitely. She didn't know how long had passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. The vibrator's stimulation made her want to scream, but she couldn't. She could only writhe, the ropes rustling against the sheets, but she couldn't hear it. Sister Ya stood up, opened the box, and pulled out a set of black gear—not a simple collar, but a full K9 restraint suit. The black latex material gleamed under the light. From neck to feet, it was a completely enclosed bodysuit with a zipper and buckle in the back. The most distinctive part was the arms—not sleeves, but restraint pouches that forced the arms into a bent position, like an animal's forelimbs, unable to straighten or grasp. The legs were similar, with padded restraints at the knees, forcing them to bend and preventing standing. There was also a hood, black, with upright dog ears, an opening for the mouth but with a built-in gag, and mesh eyes that allowed vision but blurred it. "Professional-grade K9 restraint," Sister Ya said. "Latex, it fits snugly, arms are fixed, legs are forced to bend, you can only crawl, not stand, can't use your hands, completely petrified. And a tail, built-in, with a buckle." She spread the gear on the table, like displaying a work of art. "Whoever draws this has to try it on immediately, wear it for a full hour, and crawl around while being led by their owner, completing a training task." The box was handed to Tang Bao. She reached in and pulled out an envelope. Inside was a black card with a simple drawing of a dog, but it read "full suit." "The grand prize," Old Ghost read out, laughing. "Full K9 restraint, professional grade. Tang Bao, you have great luck." Tang Bao's face turned pale. "I... I can't wear this..." "You can," Sister Ya said. "The rules are the rules, you wear what you draw. And," she looked at Tang Wan, "your mother is here, she'll be the owner, perfect." Tang Wan walked over, picked up the latex restraint suit, and looked at it under the light. "Latex, the size should be right. Bao'er, strip, leave only your underwear, take everything else off." "Mom—" "Take it off," Tang Wan said. "Or I'll help you." Tang Bao trembled and, in front of everyone, took off her skirt, her stockings, leaving only her underwear. The basement was a little cool, and she hugged her arms, goosebumps rising on her skin. "Help her put it on," Tang Wan said to Lin Xiao. "Start from the feet. Latex is hard to put on, you have to pull slowly." Lin Xiao took the restraint suit, her hands shaking. She spread the suit flat on the floor, like a black chrysalis, and had Tang Bao sit on it, first putting her feet into the leg openings. The latex was very tight, like a second skin. Lin Xiao pulled it up inch by inch, over her knees, over her thighs. Every inch required effort, the latex rubbing against her skin with a squeaking sound. It reached her waist. Tang Bao stood up, and Lin Xiao pulled the suit up, covering her chest, shoulders, and then her arms. The arms didn't slide in; they were forced into the side restraint pouches, fixed like an animal's legs, unable to straighten, the palms enclosed, completely unusable. The zipper in the back was pulled up, from waist to neck. Tang Wan pulled it herself. With every inch zipped, the suit tightened, completely encasing Tang Bao's body, accentuating the curve of her waist, the shape of her hips, the outline of her breasts. The latex was semi-transparent, black, but when it clung to the skin, the contours of her body were visible, even the shape of her nipples faintly discernible. "The hood," Sister Ya handed it over. Tang Wan put it on Tang Bao. The black hood, dog ears standing up, the mouth opening perfectly aligned with Tang Bao's mouth, but inside was a red gag, which was inserted, and the straps were tightened. The mesh over the eyes allowed Tang Bao to see, but it was blurry, like looking through gauze. Her ears were covered, muffling sounds. "Finally," Tang Wan took the tail from the box. It wasn't furry, but latex, with a buckle. "This has to be put on to be complete." She had Tang Bao get on all fours—the knees of the restraint suit had padding, perfect for crawling. She lifted the hem, revealing the underwear, and slowly inserted the tail. Tang Bao cried out, but the gag turned her cry into a muffled "woof woof," her body trembling, the latex suit reflecting the light with her shivers. "All done," Tang Wan stood up, looking at Tang Bao on the floor—completely encased in black latex, arms bent and fixed, legs forced into a kneeling position, dog ears on the hood standing erect, the tail sticking up behind her. The gag caused saliva to drip from the corners of her mouth, glistening on the latex. "Now she's a dog," Tang Wan said. "Completely unable to stand, unable to use her hands, can only crawl, can only bark. I'll start the training." She took out a leash, not an ordinary one, but a professional one, connected to a metal ring on the front of the restraint suit. "Crawl, circle the cage three times, go fetch the bowl, come back, fetch it with your mouth, you're not allowed to use—oh, you couldn't use your hands anyway." Everyone laughed. Tang Bao tried to crawl. The latex restraint suit limited her movements. Her arms couldn't straighten to support her, so she had to crawl like an animal, on her knees and bent forelimbs, wobbling. With every crawl, her tail moved, and the gag caused saliva to constantly drip from her mouth onto the floor. "Slow," Tang Wan tightened the leash. "Knees on the ground, sink your hips, like a real dog. Yes, like that, butt up, tail up." Not for human consumption, it's real dog food, small kibble, fish-flavored. She placed the bag by the entrance and called out, "Xiaoxiao, come here." Lin Xiao ran out from the living room, her eyes lighting up when she saw the bag of dog food. "Auntie, do you want me to put it on now?" "Yes," Tang Wan said. "You said you wanted to try it last weekend, and tonight you have time. Bao'er, you come too, both of you, for training." Tang Bao emerged from the bedroom, already in loose loungewear, but her ears turned red upon hearing "both of you." "I have to wear it too?" "You've worn it before, you have experience," Tang Wan said. "Help her. Go, get the gear, and help her put it on." In the bedroom, the black hard case was opened, and the latex gear was spread out on the bed, gleaming with oil. Lin Xiao took off her clothes, leaving only her underwear, and stood by the bed, her hands trembling. Tang Bao picked up the restraint suit and, just as Lin Xiao had helped her last time, started from the feet. "Put your feet in first," Tang Bao said. "Latex is tight, you have to pull it up slowly." Lin Xiao slid her feet into the opening, and Tang Bao slowly pulled it up, past her knees, past her thighs. The latex rubbed against her skin, making a squeaking sound, like some living creature enveloping her. It reached her waist, and Lin Xiao stood up. Tang Bao pulled the suit up, covering her chest, shoulders, and then her arms. "Your arms need to be bent," Tang Bao instructed. "Tuck them into the pockets on the sides, yes, like an animal's front legs, they can't be straight." Lin Xiao complied. Her arms were forcibly bent and tucked into the restraint pockets, her hands completely encased, unable to grip or be used. The zipper in the back was pulled up, from her waist to her neck. The latex tightened, encasing her body completely, accentuating the curve of her waist, the shape of her hips, and the outline of her breasts. "It's so tight..." Lin Xiao whispered, her voice trembling. "It feels like being wrapped in a second skin..." "The hood," Tang Bao said, picking up the black hood with its erect dog ears. "Open your mouth, the gag needs to go in." Lin Xiao opened her mouth, and the red gag was inserted, the straps tied tight. Then the hood was put on, the latex covering her entire head, leaving only her eyes exposed. However, the eye sections were mesh, making her vision blurry, and her ears were covered, muffling sounds. "Finally," Tang Bao said, taking out the tail, made of latex with a clasp. "Get down on all fours, knees on the ground." Lin Xiao got down on all fours. The knees of the restraint suit had padding, perfect for kneeling. Tang Bao lifted the hem, revealing her underwear, and slowly inserted the tail. Lin Xiao cried out, but the gag turned her cry into a muffled "woof," and her body trembled violently, the latex suit reflecting the light with her tremors. "All done," Tang Bao said, looking at Lin Xiao – completely encased in black latex, arms bent and fixed, legs forced into a kneeling position, dog ears erect on her hood, tail sticking up behind her, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth due to the gag, leaving wet spots on the latex. "Now you're a dog," Tang Wan's voice came from the doorway. She walked in, holding a leash. "You can't stand, you can't use your hands, you can only crawl. Bao'er, you put it on too, both of you for training." Tang Bao also took off her clothes and put on the other set – there were indeed two sets in the case, both identical latex restraint suits. Soon, there were two black "dogs" kneeling side-by-side in the bedroom, dog ears erect on their hoods, tails sticking up, saliva constantly dripping from their mouths due to the gags, unable to speak, only able to make muffled "woof" sounds. "Crawl," Tang Wan commanded, pulling on the two leashes. "Go to the living room, circle the coffee table three times, then go to the kitchen and fetch your bowls with your mouths." The two "dogs" began to crawl. The latex restraint suits restricted their movements; their arms couldn't straighten to support them. They could only crawl like animals, their knees and bent forelimbs on the ground, wobbling. With every crawl, their tails twitched, and saliva dripped from their mouths onto the floor, leaving shiny trails on the latex. "Slowly," Tang Wan tightened the leashes. "Knees on the ground, lower your waists, like real dogs. Yes, like that, lift your butts, keep your tails up, and sniff each other." The two "dogs" moved closer, their hoods bumping together. They sniffed each other, their saliva mixing. Unable to speak, they could only make "woof" sounds, like real dogs communicating. "Go, fetch the bowls," Tang Wan pointed to the kitchen. The two "dogs" crawled towards the kitchen, the latex squeaking as it rubbed against the floor. They lowered their heads, picked up their respective white ceramic bowls with their mouths, and then crawled back, placing them at Tang Wan's feet. Unable to use their hands, unable to stand, they could only maintain this humiliating posture, like real pets. As word of the vacuum bed experience spread among the trainees, the Rope House introduced a new series of props: leather restraints. The first was the Handcuff Glove. Not ordinary gloves, but leather restraints designed to bind the hands behind the back. Made of thick cowhide, sixty centimeters long and thirty centimeters wide, with a soft lining inside and metal buckles and straps on the outside. When used, place your hands inside, tighten the straps, and fasten the metal buckles, and your hands are secured behind your back, completely unusable, completely unable to resist, only able to wait, only able to accept. The second was the Restraint Rack. Made of wood, two meters high and one meter wide, in an X shape, with leather cuffs at the four ends that could spread and secure a person's limbs, holding them upright, completely exposed, completely displayed. "We're trying these two today," Tang Bao said to Chen Yuxin, his fingers tracing the surface of the leather Handcuff Glove, the texture rough, warm, carrying a distinct leather scent. "The Handcuff Glove renders your hands useless, and the Restraint Rack immobilizes your body. Combined, you will be completely unable to resist, completely ours." Chen Yuxin looked at the two props, at the black leather glove, at the wooden rack, feeling fear, but also a strong desire. "I want to try," she said, "I want to experience that complete inability to resist." Preparation began. First, the Handcuff Glove. Tang Bao had Chen Yuxin remove her top, baring her chest, then place her hands behind her back and into the glove. The inside of the glove was soft, but the leather was hard, and once tightened, it was impossible to break free. Chen Yuxin's right hand went in first, her fingers forced into a bend, her wrist secured, then her left hand, similarly, her hands met inside the glove behind her back, forced together, unable to separate, unable to move. Then came the tightening of the straps. Tang Bao pulled each strap tighter, the metal buckles clicking crisply. With each tightening, Chen Yuxin's hands were secured more firmly, more immovably. Finally, the straps were buckled, her hands completely fixed behind her, unusable, defenseless, unable to do anything. "How does it feel?" Tang Bao asked, tapping the leather surface of the Handcuff Glove with his fingers, producing a dull thud. "Tight," Chen Yuxin said, her voice trembling slightly, "My hands can't move at all, forced together, unable to separate." Next was the Restraint Rack. Tang Wan and Lin Xiao set up the rack, adjusting its angle to ensure stability. Then, they brought Chen Yuxin to the rack, had her stand with her back against it, her limbs spread, forming an X. First, the wrists. Although already bound by the Handcuff Glove, they still added the rack's leather cuffs over the glove, securing her arms, through the glove, to the two upper ends of the rack. Then, the ankles, leather cuffs securing them to the two lower ends of the rack. Chen Yuxin was fixed to the rack. Her legs were spread, about a meter wide, unable to close, unable to move. Her hands were bound by the Handcuff Glove and further secured to the rack above, unable to lower or bring them closer to her body. She was completely immobile, completely unable to resist, completely exposed. Her breasts, her abdomen, her groin, all exposed, all within reach, all hers to be looked at and played with. "Now," Tang Bao said, his voice low and playful, "you belong to us completely. Unable to move, unable to defend, unable to escape. Whatever we do, you will endure. If we want you to climax, you will climax. Understand?" "Understood," Chen Yuxin said, her voice trembling, but with anticipation. Then, the play began. Because she was completely fixed, completely unable to resist, any touch would be amplified, focused, and intensely felt. Tang Bao's hand was the first to land on her breasts. Not through latex, but direct skin contact, warm, rough, immediate. His fingers kneaded her nipples, which hardened and became sensitive under the stimulation. Because her hands were bound, Chen Yuxin could not protect herself, could not push him away, could only endure, could only feel that direct, continuous, intense stimulation. Tang Bao trembled as she unbuttoned her shirt, one, two, three buttons. The fabric slid away, revealing her fair shoulders and already hardened nipples. She stood up, shed her underwear, and stood naked in the center of the living room, her hands instinctively covering her crotch, but Chen Yuxin immediately stopped her: "Hands behind your back." Su Jin did the same. Her sun-kissed skin glistened under the lights, her muscles taut and graceful. She removed her tank top and unbuttoned her shorts, revealing her neatly trimmed pubic hair and a wet slit. She also placed her hands behind her back, standing at attention like a soldier awaiting inspection. Chen Yuxin dragged a box from the basement – it was the "master equipment" she had never opened, delivered by Tang Wan that afternoon, sealed with red wax. She tore open the seal, and inside the box were neatly arranged custom restraints: a black leather collar, a rigid corset with seven whalebones, and two leg spreaders – stainless steel frames that forced the legs apart, metal shackles. "First," Chen Yuxin picked up the collar, the leather gleaming under the light, "you will become my furniture. Tang Bao, you are my butt stool; Su Jin, you are my footstool." She dealt with Tang Bao first. The collar was placed around her neck and tightened, forcing her chin up slightly. Then she made Tang Bao kneel, knees spread shoulder-width apart, hands behind her back, wrists secured with leather cuffs, the locks facing outward, completely inescapable. Next, she forced Tang Bao to bend over, forehead touching the ground, her buttocks raised high, her thighs forming a ninety-degree angle with her calves. "Waist," Chen Yuxin picked up a wide leather belt, black, with soft lining, but a metal buckle. She wrapped the belt around Tang Bao's waist, tightening it below her navel, then connected it to the metal ring at the back of the collar, forcing Tang Bao to maintain this "butt stool" position – if she tried to lift her head, the belt would tighten her neck; if she tried to lower her buttocks, the belt would pull her waist. She could only maintain the posture of her forehead touching the ground and her buttocks raised high, completely exposed and immobile. Su Jin's restraint was more complex. Chen Yuxin had her lie flat on the floor, her back against the ground, knees bent, feet flat on the floor, forming the shape of a human stool. Then she took out the leg spreaders – two stainless steel frames with leather straps. She fixed the frames to the outside of Su Jin's thighs and used the straps to tie her thighs to the frames, forcing her legs open to the sides, knees bent at ninety degrees, feet suspended, her crotch completely exposed. "Wrists," Chen Yuxin commanded. Su Jin placed her hands behind her back. Chen Yuxin used a strap to secure her wrists to her ankles – not a simple connection, but forcing her wrists tightly against her ankles, palms outward, fingers unable to grasp, only able to open in vain. This position caused Su Jin's back to arch, her chest to protrude, but her waist was forced to the ground, bearing all the weight. "Tonight," Chen Yuxin said, her voice low and firm, "I will sit here, drink, read, and occasionally play with you. You cannot move, cannot make a sound, cannot climax. If you do," she paused, her fingers sliding through Tang Bao's butt crack, then probing into Su Jin's crotch, feeling their wetness, "you will not be unbound for the entire day tomorrow, you will wear a gag, and you will only crawl, not walk." And so she did. For the next three hours, Chen Yuxin sat on Tang Bao's buttocks, her soft, oiled flesh becoming her cushion, the indentation of her rear perfectly accommodating her weight; her feet rested between Su Jin's legs, the soles of her feet pressing against her exposed labia, her toes occasionally nudging her swollen clitoris. She poured herself a glass of wine, opened a book, and began to read, completely ignoring their presence. Tang Bao's position was the most painful. Her forehead pressed against the cold floor, her buttocks bearing Chen Yuxin's full weight, blood rushing to her head, making her cheeks flush. Every breath caused her chest to rise and fall, but her hands were fixed behind her, unable to support her, so her breasts hung down, her nipples rubbing against the fabric of her shirt (which Chen Yuxin had thrown to her later), causing a constant itch. Even more unbearable was the belt around her waist, which forced her to maintain a high-pitched posture. Her muscles began to cramp, and sweat dripped from her forehead, forming a small puddle on the floor. Su Jin felt more shame. The leg spreaders forced her legs open, her clitoris completely exposed, with no cover. Chen Yuxin's right foot was between her legs, the sole pressing on her labia, occasionally applying pressure, occasionally rotating and rubbing, then suddenly moving away, leaving her teetering on the edge. Her wrists were secured to her ankles, preventing her from closing her legs, from covering herself with her hands, forcing her to endure the play of the soles of feet. Liquid continuously seeped out, wetting the floor and the crack of her buttocks.