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My first encounter with self-bondage was in college. While browsing online one day, I stumbled upon a photograph of bondage. It featured a model with a stunning figure, tightly bound in a "horse-tie" knot, her entire body crisscrossed with ropes that sculpted a beautiful, intricate pattern. I found it incredibly beautiful, and a vision of myself similarly bound flashed through my mind. Just as I was engrossed in the details of the image, a classmate walked in, forcing me to hastily close the webpage. However, the content of the photo was seared into my memory, lingering for a long time. In my free time, I often found myself yearning to experience that sensation, to be tied up and struggle helplessly. For a while, I worried I had a serious psychological problem, my mood becoming tense and my overall demeanor somewhat listless. Of course, I never shared these thoughts with anyone around me. In the public consciousness, this seemed like a highly improper hobby. Sometimes I would question what I truly desired, but the boundary felt blurred. At that time, I didn't understand self-bondage, exhibitionism, or BDSM. My conventional life felt a bit too bland, which ignited a desire to explore more stimulating experiences. For a long time afterward, this feeling of wanting to be restrained and struggle remained confined to my thoughts. My understanding of this subject was limited to that single image. Yet, the initial thrill of seeing that bondage photo never faded. I constantly told myself to exercise restraint. However, the internet age has a distinct characteristic: the relative ease of obtaining desired information. This applied equally to these matters. So, as graduation approached, I joined an SM website and discovered a wealth of related images and videos. It was a wondrous experience, like stepping into a dreamscape. My perspective underwent a significant shift. I realized I wasn't drawn to how ropes accentuated a figure, but rather to the feeling of being restrained, limited, and then disciplined. Whenever I saw photos of people engaging in public bondage, my heart would race. Through the information online, I suspected I might also have a touch of exhibitionism. Through continuous browsing and learning, I secretly purchased many items online, such as ropes, restraints, and gags, anticipating using them on myself. However, with graduation imminent, we were constantly at school, surrounded by many students, making it impossible to find a private space for myself to engage in such activities. For a long time, I could only secretly gaze at the equipment I had bought, fantasizing about being bound by them. This feeling was intoxicating, but ultimately not real enough. Sometimes, I still longed for a genuine experience.

Then we began today's plan. My classmate wanted me to dress more conservatively, as this wasn't confinement within the dorm room, but within the entire building. If my attire was too sexy and exposed, it might cause unnecessary trouble if discovered. However, at this moment, my mind was filled only with the pleasure of restraint, and I didn't care if my clothes were revealing. I insisted on choosing a very revealing dress. After my classmate's repeated persuasion, we compromised and chose a maid outfit. The dress reached my knees, and the style wasn't sexy but cute, with plenty of lace trim, making it look very girlish. Naturally, such an outfit required matching white stockings. I changed into a new pair of white thigh-highs, not the ones I wore last night during the suspension, as those had a different, special purpose. The maid outfit wasn't suitable for high heels, so my classmate suggested I wear the small leather shoes I often wore. This was a good idea, but I didn't adopt it. I decided to wear only the stockings this time, no shoes, for a more intense sensation. Seeing my persistence, she reluctantly agreed. The initial restraint was simple, requiring no ropes to provide a strong sense of bondage. My hands and feet were cuffed, with the chain between them allowing me to walk and crawl on the floor. She then produced a collar and fastened it around my neck. She held the leash, seeing that everything was ready. My classmate pulled the leash and cautiously stepped out of the dorm. I was also very nervous, following her footsteps and crawling behind her, feeling a dull ache in my knees. Before I could fully exit the dorm, she nervously retreated. I was curious what was wrong. She told me I should cover my face and not reveal it. I realized this oversight; my face was completely bare. After discussion and thought, we finally settled on the high-heeled sandals I had worn all night yesterday. Tying the sandals to my face meant that even if discovered, my appearance wouldn't be clear. This meant enduring the harsh torment of the shoe's stench once more. My classmate also put on a mask, just in case. After covering my face, we left the dorm again. She led me by the leash, frequently looking back at me crawling behind her. This was a novel experience for her as well. Crawling like a dog, led by my good friend in embarrassing clothes down the hallway we walked every day, brought me immense satisfaction. I discovered I craved this form of public humiliation and exhibitionism, which made me incredibly excited. The dorm doors on either side of the hallway were closed. I couldn't help but fantasize that it wasn't a holiday, but a normal school day, and every room was filled with people watching me crawl on the floor like a bitch. How satisfying and stimulating that would be! With this thought, I felt as if I were there, and so I was led forward. In a short while, we reached the stairs at the other end of the hallway.

Shihan emerged from the house, and I was truly startled. She was wearing the same leather outfit she'd worn when she'd previously TJ'd me. Her footwear had also transformed from the cotton socks and sneakers of moments ago to black sheer stockings and stiletto heels. I involuntarily flinched back on the sofa. Shihan walked up to me and commanded me to kneel before her. Confused, I remained frozen. Shihan then accused me of corrupting her younger brother with my hobbies. Her brother's mother had just called Shihan, subtly expressing her concerns. Just as I was about to argue, I saw her pull a leather whip from behind her back and toy with it in her hand. Knowing I was somewhat in the wrong and unable to refute her, I reluctantly knelt before her. At her request, I changed my damp clothes and stockings for new ones. I had also transformed from the dominant teacher persona into a similarly alluring flight attendant outfit. The top was a rose-red uniform with a checkered scarf, paired with a white uniform skirt and nude pantyhose. My heels had also changed from 10cm to 5cm, a welcome relief as my feet were already aching from wearing 10cm stilettos for so long. After changing,

The collar and restraints on my neck left me at Shihan's mercy. Fortunately, I was wearing long pants and pantyhose, which masked the difference between my feet being in stockings or not. Before Shihan pulled me out of school, she rummaged mysteriously in her bag, saying she had a small gift for me. Her mischievous grin sent a bad feeling through me. As expected, Shihan pulled out a small vibrator. I recoiled, refusing, but it seemed Shihan intended for me to walk back wearing it. Being led by a leash was embarrassing enough, but with a toy vibrating inside my panties, how could I possibly resist? Shihan paid no mind, reaching directly into my pants and adjusting the vibrator's position. I could feel the cool sensation of the toy, not yet vibrating. With a stocking in my mouth, I could only shake my head anxiously in protest. Shihan ignored my reaction, inspected my entire body, and then, pulling on the collar around my neck, began to lead me out of school. The contrast between the school grounds and the outside was stark. While the school was dark and silent, just beyond the gate, the street outside was bustling with traffic and brightly lit. Shihan's forward movement forced me to walk, my high heels clicking on the ground. The sensation of one foot in a stocking and the other bare was peculiar, something I hadn't experienced before. My stockinged foot felt significantly more slippery inside the high heel than before. Stepping outside, I saw several hurried pedestrians within my line of sight. I quickly lowered my head to avoid being seen with a stocking in my mouth. However, a long stocking held in one's mouth is rather conspicuous; the long tube dangled well outside my lips, easily visible with even a casual glance. But the most striking feature was the collar around my neck. Shihan had deliberately lengthened the collar to its maximum, keeping a distance between us. This allowed all passersby to see the leash connecting us and my hands, cuffed behind my back. Shihan deliberately walked slowly, allowing people to overtake us. Though I kept my head down, I could feel their strange gazes. I could imagine everyone who passed us seeing me being led by Shihan, a long stocking dangling from my mouth. I'm sure people would naturally assume this stocking was the "original scent" from my feet, freshly removed. This shame made me quicken my pace, eager to get away from the busy main road. But Shihan clearly had no intention of going home yet. No matter how I twisted my body or let out muffled moans, she remained indifferent, strolling slowly, occasionally rattling the metal chain to draw attention from passersby. As Shihan walked, she suddenly reached into her pocket. I didn't notice this subtle movement, but I certainly felt the result. The remote for the toy in my crotch was in her pocket. She switched the toy to the medium setting, and the vibration immediately spread through my groin. I could clearly feel the stimulating vibrations making my legs grow weak, and my stockinged feet in the high heels began to falter. Shihan turned to look at my predicament and, to my surprise, actually quickened her pace. Normally, I would have welcomed this, but now, subjected to the vibrator's constant stimulation, I was in no condition to walk faster. Yet, the collar around my neck constantly pulled, forcing me to spread my legs and quicken my pace in a shamefully awkward posture. My breathing grew heavy. My mouth, holding the stocking, was already sore, and my entire face felt numb. Holding the stocking for so long made me desperately want my teeth and mouth to be free again, but I was unable to express this need to Shihan.

The time for rest always passes much faster than being played with. I was personally quite interested in bondage, exhibitionism, and being played with, but when it became a job, the fun diminished greatly. Especially being casually played with and humiliated by a stranger, or someone I'd only known for half a day, was something I found even harder to accept. Just as I was regretting my decision, Master appeared behind me and struck the floor next to where I was lying on my side with a whip. The whip cracked loudly against the floor, and I fearfully resumed my doggy-crawling posture from my side-lying position, thinking that if that heavy whip had landed on my skin, it would have likely torn me to shreds. Trembling, I prostrated myself on the ground, waiting for Master to speak. Seeing me obediently lying there, not daring to breathe, Master finally spoke slowly: "Today is the bitch training class. This bitch clearly hasn't been tamed by a master, which is unacceptable. I will train you properly here." This was the first time I had ever heard of a class called "bitch training," and knowing Master's personality and methods, it would undoubtedly be very strict. The thought sent a shiver through my body, and I trembled. Master pulled on the leash around my neck and led me to a corner of the living room. In the corner stood a machine I had never seen before. Master ordered me to squat with my legs spread as wide as possible. Several electrode pads were connected to the machine, and Master attached them to my inner thighs, my back, and even two to my buttocks. The machine also had restraints. As I squatted with my legs spread, I held my hands up in front of me, just like when I played at being a bitch. Two restraints dangled in this position, securely locking my hands, limiting them to this posture. The sheer presence of this machine already made me somewhat fearful. Before I could even react, I was squatting with my legs spread, hands bound in front of me, and electrode pads attached. After finishing, Master announced the machine's purpose: "This is the 'bark training device.' You must bark continuously. The machine will automatically detect the volume of your barks. If you don't reach the required volume, the electrode pads will activate." To my shock, Master immediately turned the device on. Before I could react, I felt a faint current from the areas where the electrode pads were attached, making my body tingle. I had no choice but to endure the shame and begin barking. I intended to bark loudly, but for some reason, the sound that came out of my mouth wasn't very loud. As expected, the electrical stimulation gradually increased, and the tingling sensation from the electrode pads intensified. Seeing my weak barks, Master warned, "If it doesn't detect your barks, it will continue to release current." Under Master's gaze, I could only blush and begin to bark loudly, my "woof woof woof" echoing throughout the living room. Squatting like this with my hands raised, coupled with my continuous barking, I truly began to imagine myself transforming into a little bitch. As long as Master didn't turn off the machine, I had to keep barking. A few times, when my voice slightly faltered, the electrode pads would send a tingling current that made it even harder to control my body, especially my fear of losing bladder control. The pads on my inner thighs made me constantly want to urinate, but the thought of doing so in the living room, in front of Master, was unbearable. Thus, I had to increase the volume of my barks, desperately trying to avoid the current. I had thought Master would only train me to bark for a few minutes, but to my surprise, she showed no signs of letting me stop. Instead, she found a stool and sat nearby, watching me bark. I kept barking "woof woof woof," and I had to maintain a loud volume. I was already parched, and the continuous barking made my tongue feel numb. Due to my body's limitations, after more than ten minutes of barking, my voice inevitably weakened, which corresponded to an increase in the current from the electrode pads on my skin. Each time I felt my body tingle, I would try to make my barks louder. Another difficulty was that I was squatting with my legs spread, and I was still wearing the high heels I had on when we went out that morning. Squatting on the floor like this made my legs almost unbearable, and my feet in the stockings inside the high heels intensified this feeling. My legs and feet were becoming numb and unresponsive, but each time this happened, the electrode pads would bring me back to a state of stimulation. This training method designed by the machine was truly severe, inflicting immense torment on both my body and my mind.