tapestry

Due to the nature of my profession, I've been inside detention centers in countless places. The detention center is the most familiar place in every city I've visited. All detention centers have three gates. Lawyers can at most enter the second gate. This time, I was brought into the third gate. This is the special cell for death row inmates. Besides Wang Chun, there were three other inmates in this room. However, they were all serving Wang Chun. According to prison regulations, Wang Chun, as a condemned death row inmate, was handcuffed and shackled, locked to a standing bed. Because she was to see me, she was temporarily released from the bed, but the handcuffs and shackles were not removed. The detention center guard said that Wang Chun had always complied with the rules and behaved well. She insisted on folding paper cranes every day. But recently, she had been refusing to eat, the reason being that her hands were locked and she couldn't fold paper cranes. The guard said aggrievedly, "This is the rule, we can't do anything about it. You see, she doesn't care about death, she was calm even after being sentenced to death, unlike other inmates who made a fuss. Yet, she refuses to eat because she can't fold those little things. Isn't this girl very strange? What exactly is she trying to achieve?" Accompanied by a female judge, I met Wang Chun. She was wearing a prison uniform, had short hair, and her face was pale, yet she was still delicate, beautiful, and her eyes showed a long-awaited look of joy and anticipation when she saw me. "Brother, you're here?" "What's wrong with you? How did this happen?"

"This... alright." Cheng Xin's body immediately tensed. She wanted to refuse, to push back, but quickly realized it was futile. With no escape, she found herself wanting it to be over quickly, her cheeks burning uncontrollably. She thought not having dressed beforehand had been the right choice. Chen Sihan didn't play the video immediately. Instead, she tinkled a few times, then picked up a bag from the tray on the table and placed it on the bed, opening it. Cheng Xin was familiar with the parts inside; together, they formed a pair of handcuffs. "Sister Xin, bring your hands around," Chen Sihan commanded gently, knowing Cheng Xin wouldn't resist. Cheng Xin was indeed obedient. Before the cuffs were applied, she raised her hands, lingering to examine her wrists, which hadn't been subjected to abuse for nearly three months. Even the calluses from before had faded somewhat. A moment later, Cheng Xin obediently twisted halfway, her hands placed behind her back. Her beautiful back and fragrant buttocks were bared to Chen Sihan. The blanket on her chest slipped away from her arms' grip, falling silently. Despite Cheng Xin's deliberate turn and hunched posture, Chen Sihan could still clearly see her soft, yielding curves that would make any woman envious. Cheng Xin felt her hands being clasped together by a metal ring. Initially, the ulnar sides of her wrists (the palm side) were together, but soon a slender iron rod was inserted, separating them. The feeling of being handcuffed behind her back was familiar to Cheng Xin, but the skin on her wrists, which had become much more delicate over the past three months, couldn't immediately adapt to the long-lost friction of the metal. A slight pain emanated from time to time, and she could only wait for calluses to grow back there. Chen Sihan finished cuffing Cheng Xin behind her back and said, "Sister Xin, lie down." She turned Cheng Xin's body to have her lie on her left side, propping herself up with the blanket in front. This was Cheng Xin's usual sleeping position when wearing handcuffs, but today Chen Sihan also climbed onto the bed and lay down behind Cheng Xin. Cheng Xin noticed that Chen Sihan's pajamas, though not transparent, were as thin as cicada wings, and her own soft breasts, comparable to Chen Sihan's, were pressed against her back. "Sihan, what are you doing..." Cheng Xin murmured softly. She didn't object to intimacy with Chen Sihan, but she didn't know what she intended to do. She knew it would inevitably involve something sexual, and she secretly crossed her legs.

With the soft click of hard heels on the ground, Ellen's tall, dark figure moved through the long corridors of the underground facility, a silhouette against the dim chandeliers and shadows. She carefully observed her surroundings. This was no standard DEM detention facility, with its alloy structures, pervasive electronic surveillance, and heavily armed guards. Instead, it was an archaic dungeon, steeped in a damp, chilling atmosphere, its interior walls resembling brown earth, with dimly lit fixtures high on either side. Under normal circumstances, Ellen would have dismissed any decision-maker who conceived of imprisoning an elf in such a manner as an idiot and fired them from the company. However, the current situation was different, due to the unexpected involvement of certain individuals. "Isaac's creations are truly obedient," Ellen's steps halted before a spacious room. She crossed her arms, observing the scene before her. In the center of this large, doorless cell, bathed in a reddish-brown hue, stood a massive X-shaped restraint frame. Four or five Nibhelkor, clad in black spiritual attire, milled around, murmuring and chuckling excitedly. One of them, upon noticing the figure at the entrance, raised a hand in greeting towards Ellen. "Hmph..." she responded to the elf's greeting with only an arrogant grunt, then ignored him, her gaze fixed on the body suspended in the shackles, surrounded by the Nibhelkor. "Ehehehe, no, please, I don't want to be broken anymore, no, no, no! Haa... my body, my body feels so strange, woo woo..." A golden-haired girl was suspended from a large wooden yoke. Her wrists were bound by heavy leather cuffs attached to fine chains, fastened on either side of her head. Her ankles were similarly shackled, held slightly above the ground, keeping her feet dangling. Her well-developed, curvaceous body was barely covered by white undergarments clinging to her skin. The Nibhelkor's small hands, however, were unreservedly occupying her waist, armpits, stomach, and inner thighs, kneading, rubbing, teasing, and pinching with utmost abandon. Below her, two pale, delicate hands emerged from near the ground, targeting the soles of her firmly cuffed, immobile feet and scratching them intensely. The torment all over her body caused Mayuri's body to twitch uncontrollably, as if electrocuted. Her body thrashed violently, making the heavy wooden yoke creak and groan. Laughter, moans from being touched in sensitive areas, and tearful pleas erupted chaotically from her slightly hoarse throat, only to be drowned out by the Nibhelkor's taunts. "Wuwu... please, heh, heya... I can't, I can't take it anymore, wuaa—! Yahahaha, it's coming again, it's coming again, wuwuwu~! Wuwa—!" After a piercing yet seductive scream, Mayuri's bound body arched forward with all its might, accompanied by a gurgling sound of fluid. Tens of seconds later, she slumped back to her original position with heavy breaths. Her spirit utterly crushed by the pleasure of her incontinence, she closed her eyes tightly, her head lolling weakly as she leaned against her arm, unconscious. A faint yellowish wet stain at the bottom of her underwear and the still-lingering traces of fluid on her lower body and inner thighs silently told the observing magician the reason for the girl's unconsciousness. At the same time, the large puddle of water at the base of the yoke on the ground bore testament to the intensity of the storm that had just passed. "The Arbiter, Mayuri," Ellen murmured softly, crossing her arms, her gaze fixed on the elf before her. Although she had known almost nothing about this target a few days prior, she was now very certain of the girl's future. The previous elf, codenamed Number Two, who had visited this location, had a normal body and offered slight resistance upon arrival. A week later, when she left, a casual touch from the restraint device and her limbs could make her scream and experience a minor climax. "Creatures like these," Ellen couldn't help but lift her chin, looking down at Mayuri's body. These seemingly powerful elves, despite their destructive capabilities, could not conceal the fatal weakness of their extremely sensitive bodies. Their delicate skin and flesh made even touches to their feet or pleasure points produce intense sexual stimulation. Furthermore, their willpower was far less resistant to pleasure than to pain, making every interrogation easily devolve into a complete and utter orgy of bodily fluids. "You don't even need weapons to deal with them; a simple touch is enough," Ellen often said to Westcott in private. "Mmm..." Ellen shook her head, pulling her thoughts back to the present after a mental storm. She couldn't help but recall Mayuri's appearance on the first day she was captured a few days ago, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips. She raised the terminal she was holding and took a photo of Mayuri, sending it to Westcott's email with the subject line: "Arbiter ready within three days." After hitting send, she turned and walked away from the cold, damp room that felt somewhat uncomfortable for her relatively fragile body. What she didn't expect was that in a dark corner she had inadvertently overlooked, a black-haired girl in a brown dress, with asymmetrical twin ponytails, was cautiously peeking out from the pitch-black shadows. Even the Nibhelkor, carrying a cup of water and a tray of potions, who ran past nearby, did not notice her silent arrival. From her hiding place, she gazed from afar at the golden-haired elf, tormented into unconsciousness, and greedily licked her snow-white fingertip: "Oh my, I didn't expect to find you here, Ar—bi—ter~"