Wedding Tying Customs in the Grasslands of Yoshikuni

Echoes of ancient legends from the 19th century reverberate across the vast grasslands. In this distant land, the tales of "Manas" are passed down through generations like an eternal epic. Here, the theft of cattle, sheep, and women seems to have long been a deeply ingrained tradition. Every plot in these stories is profoundly etched into the cultural DNA of this land, traversing the river of time to continue to this day. Kyrgyzstan, a place that places national traditions above religious beliefs, yet regards religious beliefs as the cornerstone of law, the legends of "Manas" are like the Bible of this land, held in the highest esteem. However, behind these ancient stories, bride kidnapping not only ignited tribal disputes but also sowed the seeds of countless social problems. Statistics reveal a worrying trend: in Kyrgyzstan, the frequency of bride kidnapping incidents has been continuously escalating, a trend that persisted even up to the eve of the collapse of the Soviet Union. During the Soviet era, the government vigorously advocated for gender equality and promoted universal education, liberating the minds of young people and causing them to clash fiercely with traditional notions. As generations of young people educated in modern ways returned to their hometowns, they attempted to challenge deeply rooted customs and expressed desires for free love. However, in the face of the concept of "a parent's command, a matchmaker's word," these desires often met with strong opposition. Young people, caught between freedom and constraint, found a way out – the initial form of bride kidnapping. The initial form of bride kidnapping was not the violent act we understand today. It was an agreement made privately between the man and woman, where the man would take the woman home for the night to defy traditional constraints. However, as time passed, this act gradually evolved into a truly violent act – actual bride kidnapping, becoming a social evil. Jennie, a mere 16-year-old girl, is a victim of this evil. Her secret diary records her yearning for freedom and her dissatisfaction with reality. She should have been pursuing her dream at school – to become a lawyer – but an abrupt marriage shattered it all. Once abducted for marriage, escape was almost impossible. Jennie faced an unresisted fate, for this was the so-called "tradition." The day after the wedding, Jennie had to busy herself with preparations for the banquet. She had to complete various chores with her husband Kubat's family until all the guests departed. Such actions were intended to prove she was a hardworking woman, hoping for kind treatment from Kubat's family. But beneath these superficial rituals, Jennie was more like a purchased maid than a member of the family. In this society where tradition reigned supreme, in the depths of her heart, the desire for freedom and equality continued to quietly grow, like a splash of green in the wilderness, stubbornly blooming against adversity.

The night quietly descended, and a cold wind swept across the vast mountains of Kyrgyzstan, bringing with it a chill. In a remote village, moonlight filtered through the clouds, casting a silvery glow upon a dilapidated mud house. Inside, the sound of weeping pierced the stillness of the night, echoing in the confined space. This was the lament of a girl about to become an abducted bride – Aigul, only sixteen years old, now huddled under the dim lamplight, tears silently tracing paths down her tender cheeks. Tonight, she was to leave her warm home, be forcibly taken away, sent to a strange place, and married to a man she had never met. Her fate seemed predetermined by the ancient customs of this land, just like countless other girls who were victims of bride abduction, their lives seemingly confined to a single, narrow, and winding path. Aigul’s tears flowed not only for herself but also for her sisters who shared similar fates. In this country, approximately two-thirds of marriages are accomplished through violent abduction. Every year, thousands of girls are snatched, robbed like commodities, the youngest as young as fourteen. Their destinies are irrevocably altered overnight, their futures filled with uncertainty and dread. For girls forced into marriage, it is not the beginning of happiness but the starting point of lost freedom. Their lives will be bound to endless domestic chores and the kitchen, their right to pursue personal dreams extinguished. Bride abduction not only robs girls of their freedom but also inflicts immeasurable suffering. Many girls endure domestic violence after marriage, suffering immense physical and emotional trauma. Even if they escape those unfortunate unions, their lives do not improve. In the culture of this country, once a girl loses her virginity, she is deemed impure. Even if their experiences warrant sympathy, society and family still cast them with judgmental eyes, or worse, ruthlessly cast them out. Many girls lose hope in life; some resort to selling their bodies to maintain basic survival, while others choose to end their lives, attempting to escape this indifferent world. Yet, their sacrifices do not garner widespread societal attention, and such tragedies continue to repeat, seemingly without end. Despite Kyrgyzstan's laws explicitly stating that bride abduction is a criminal offense, people seem to turn a blind eye. Even some police officers and government officials do not truly grasp the severity of this issue. When domestic disputes arising from bride abduction are brought before the courts, they often result in nothing more than a perfunctory ruling. In this society, many still cling to the old notion: "A good marriage begins with tears." This deeply ingrained tradition fuels the rampant phenomenon of bride abduction, forcing countless girls to accept unknown fates and live in dire straits. Aigul looked up at the window, her eyes filled with helplessness and fear. She knew tonight would be a significant turning point in her life. She did not know what the future held, but she hoped more people would understand their stories, so that this world would no longer witness such tragic destinies. At this moment, a faint glimmer of hope ignited within her heart, a yearning for the day when every girl in this land could freely pursue her dreams, no longer forced to submit to the dictates of fate.

Su Qing's fingertips lightly traced each page of the yellowed book, her eyes gleaming with an unusual light, captivated by the accounts of the "abduction marriage" customs of the Ji Kingdom's grasslands. As she delved deeper into the reading, Su Qing's gaze fixated on the various mysterious restraint tools mentioned in this custom, the exquisite illustrations and detailed textual descriptions deeply drawing her attention. These exquisite and mysterious restraint tools were not merely objects; they were keys to another world, unlocking unexplored realms within her heart. Each of these tools possessed a unique meaning and a story behind it, making Su Qing's heart surge with a desire to know more. The book described in detail the uniqueness of these tools and the meanings they carried: "When night fell, brave knights would choose the women they desired under the moonlight, then bind them with special tools and take them back to their homes. These tools were not only a part of the traditional 'abduction marriage' ceremony but also carried the deep love and respect of the warriors for their future wives." These tools were more than just components of a ritual; they carried profound emotions, connecting to infinite beautiful aspirations and visions for the future. Su Qing's heart began to race, her breathing grew rapid, and an indescribable emotion churned in her chest. One of these tools was called the **Mysterious Collar**, intricately carved with complex patterns, said to possess the power to protect its wearer. This collar was not merely an adornment but was considered a talisman, capable of protecting the future wife from harm during her journey. Wearing it was like donning a light that illuminated the path ahead. Su Qing imagined such a collar around her neck, seemingly capable of warding off all storms. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the collar against her neck, a warm and firm power enveloping her, making her feel incredibly safe. Another was the **Chain of Destiny**, a chain composed of countless small silver links, each engraved with ancient totems symbolizing auspiciousness and happiness. The two ends of the chain were connected by delicate silver locks, which could only be opened by a specific key, representing an inseparable commitment. Wearing this chain felt like receiving warmth from afar, adding a sense of reassurance to the journey. Su Qing closed her eyes, imagining the chain gently encircling her wrist, the feeling of security almost within reach. Then there were the **Silk Restraints**, ropes made from selected silk, both soft and strong, ensuring sufficient strength to prevent escape while ensuring the wearer would not be harmed. These wrapped around gently yet firmly, symbolizing gentle yet unwavering protection for the future wife. Su Qing imagined the delicate silk ropes winding around her body, the soft yet firm touch like a silent vow. Additionally, there were the **Bracelets of Light**, a pair of golden cuffs meticulously woven from pure gold threads, inlaid with precious gems that shimmered with a soft glow. The moment they were clasped onto the wrists, they signified an unbreakable bond between two individuals. These cuffs were not just restraint tools but also symbols of status, a promise. Su Qing imagined the slight cold touch as the cuffs were gently locked onto her wrists, the sparkle of the gems sending a warmth through her heart. Finally, there were the **Starry Anklets**, a pair of delicate shackles, their surfaces engraved with countless stars, emitting a faint glow when night fell, symbolizing the ability to find each other even in darkness. The design of the shackles was inspired by ancient constellations, each star representing a beautiful wish, a hope for the future. Su Qing imagined the starlight at night reflecting the glow of the anklets, a warmth and romance that made her yearn for it. Beyond these, hunters from affluent families would carry even more luxurious and exquisite restraint tools, each one breathtakingly beautiful: - The **Golden Girdle**, crafted from pure gold and inlaid with precious gems, symbolizing the cherish and respect for the wife. Each gem on the girdle told a story of the warrior's promise to his beloved, radiating a dazzling brilliance. - The **Pearl Necklace**, a pearl chain that encircled the neck and was used for leading. Strung with lustrous pearls, each meticulously selected, it symbolized purity and beauty. Wearing such a necklace felt like experiencing the delicate touch of each pearl and the deep gaze of the warrior. - The **Jade Bracelets**, forming exquisite handcuffs with jade chains connecting them. Made from superior jade, each link emitted a faint glow, giving a sense of peace. These bracelets were not just ornaments but witnesses to the warrior's eternal promise to his beloved. - **The Maiden's Arm**, a single glove-like restraint, crafted from soft yet durable white leather, adorned with delicate and intricate metal embellishments, each inch a testament to the craftsman's dedication and skill. Its unique design curved the wearer's arm gracefully behind their back, as if embracing an unspeakable secret, and its edges were subtly trimmed with soft lace, adding a touch of gentleness to the restraint. Su Qing gently closed her eyes, picturing herself wearing it. In that moment, time seemed to freeze, the world became tranquil and serene, a certainty of future commitment and a brave attempt at self-exploration. - The **Milky Way Anklets**, delicate silver threads woven together, connecting the ankles. Light yet secure, every detail exuded refinement and elegance. Walking on the grass with these anklets on, even the sound of footsteps seemed lighter, as if having a deeper connection with the earth. - The **Moonlight Bridle**, a headstall worn on the face, including a bit and reins behind the head. It was woven from soft leather and silver threads, comfortable and luxurious to wear, as if solidifying moonlight onto the head, giving Su Qing a sense of freedom and elegance. - The **Dawn Hooves**, heelless hoof boots with very high heels and no support at the back of the heel, with silver locks on the ankles. The boots were adorned with exquisite floral patterns, and the toes slightly curled upwards. Wearing them felt like walking in the dawn, each step filled with hope and vitality, as if she were treading on the morning light towards an unknown journey. - The **Dreamtail**, an anal plug connected to a horse's tail. It was not just a restraint tool but an invitation to self-exploration. Wearing it felt like connecting with the deepest secrets of one's heart, giving Su Qing a sense of profound self-awakening and exploration, as if she were opening a door to an unknown world. - The **Dreamy Bodysuit**, a semi-transparent white latex restraint bodysuit that hugged the body tightly, like a second skin, accentuating the figure and giving a feeling of being held securely. This gave Su Qing a sense of closeness she had never experienced before, as if wearing it could ward off all external storms. - The **Morning Mist Gag**, a pure white, soft gag. When worn, it felt like holding a wisp of morning mist in one's mouth, both mysterious and elegant, allowing her to experience a unique sense of tranquility and mystery. - The **Nightfall Blindfold**, adorned with the brightest stars of the night sky. While covering the eyes, it also seemed to grant the ability to perceive everything, giving her a sense of mystical power transcending the mundane. - The **Starlight Rings**, nipple rings with heavy pendants connected by chains. With every movement, the pendants swayed gently, like the brightest stars in the night sky twinkling on her chest, giving Su Qing a sense of subtle yet profound connection, as if she were resonating with the most distant stars in the universe. - The **Silver Wing Nipple Ring**, passing through the septum and connected to a chain for leading. It was both a restraint and an adornment, and wearing it felt like gaining the ability to fly, giving Su Qing an unprecedented sense of freedom and grace. - The **Purity Chastity Belt**, crafted from pure silver and engraved with sacred patterns. It was not just a restraint but also a symbol of faith, giving Su Qing a sense of solemn and pure emotion, as if she were protected by an invisible force. - The **Aurora Vibrator**, a small and exquisite vibrator with a smooth surface. When activated, it felt like an aurora dancing within, bringing indescribable pleasure, allowing Su Qing to experience a beautiful sensation of mind and body unity, as if she were experiencing pleasure beyond the physical. - The **Fairy Wand**, a vibrator adorned with brilliant gems. Every touch felt like igniting a spark within her heart, allowing Su Qing to experience a fusion of spirit and body, as if she were partaking in a feast for the soul. Each restraint tool had a unique name, and they were not merely restraints but also expressions of art and emotion. Su Qing was immersed in these beautiful fantasies, a newfound desire rising within her—she yearned to experience it all, to be conquered by such exquisite and luxurious restraints, to find a sense of belonging and security within these tools. As her fingertips turned the pages of the book, she felt as though she had already embarked on this journey filled with mystery and beauty.

Su Qing experienced firsthand the gentle embrace of exquisite silver manacles. As she delicately fastened them onto her wrists, a subtle coolness spread across her skin, as if conversing with another realm. These manacles were not only beautiful but also carried a faint chill, their touch so fine it seemed to whisper ancient tales. Their intricate, detailed patterns shimmered under the light, each line hinting at secrets of bygone eras. Clad in a crimson, short qipao, her wrists and ankles were encircled by these meticulously crafted restraints. They were not merely exquisite but imbued with a profound sense of history. The weight of the silver manacles slowed her every movement, lending it a languid grace, her heart quickening, a blush rising to her cheeks. Despite the restraint, she felt an unprecedented sense of security and cherished affection. Su Qing opened her eyes, her gaze falling upon the delicate silver manacles adorning her wrists. Their design was a fusion of classical and modern elements, inlaid with tiny, brilliant gemstones that sparkled with a soft, mysterious luminescence in the sunlight. The weight of the silver made each of her movements exceptionally slow and elegant. The silver chains swayed gently, emitting a crisp sound like a mountain stream, a melody as tender as nature's own, utterly captivating. The vibrant red of her short qipao perfectly complemented the silver manacles on her wrists, accentuating Su Qing's unique aura. She gently caressed the silver manacles on her wrists, their delicate texture and intricate patterns intertwining. Every crevice exuded a cool sensation, as if they were more than mere restraints, but rather works of art carrying deep emotions. Su Qing sighed softly, her voice imbued with a subtle fluctuation of feelings – a curiosity for the unknown mingled with a touch of apprehension. These manacles were exquisitely crafted, every detail radiating an air of luxury. They not only encircled her wrists and ankles tightly but also, invisibly, controlled her heartbeat. The qipao clung to her body, outlining her graceful and alluring curves. Her long hair cascaded softly over her shoulders, swaying with her slightest movements. Her eyes revealed a complex mixture of emotions – anticipation, tinged with a hint of shyness and a subtle unease. Su Qing stroked the manacles, as if sensing the meaning they held. She knew this was no accident, but a choice made after deep consideration. Despite being bound, Su Qing felt an unparalleled sense of security and being cherished. Her cheeks flushed, her heart pounded, as if each beat spoke of a certain expectation. She bit her lip lightly, her clear eyes holding a conflicted emotion – a desire to be controlled, to be a part of this ancient tradition, yet also filled with uncertainty about the future. But here, on this vast grassland, everything was imbued with new meaning, all restraints transforming into another form of protection. In this moment, she felt as if she had merged with the land, experiencing a profound sense of belonging. The sound of the silver manacles seemed to accompany her heartbeat, composing a melody for her emotional fluctuations. She moved her feet gently, each step cautious, as if tentatively exploring this ancient desire for control and the accompanying sense of security. She knew this would be an unforgettable experience, a baptism for both her mind and body unlike any other. Su Qing's gaze became firm and deep, as if she were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Though inner unease still lingered, the feeling of being controlled and transformed provided her with an unprecedented sense of security. She caressed the silver manacles on her wrists, an ineffable emotion surging within her. On this vast grassland, she seemed to have found a sense of belonging, a feeling of being protected. Her every breath grew steadier, as if she were prepared for whatever was to come. At her ankles, similarly styled, exquisite anklets were also entwined, cleverly connected to the manacles on her wrists, forming a unique and captivating tableau. The metal felt cool to the touch, yet possessed a peculiar warmth. These manacles and anklets were carved with intricate totems and patterns, each line seemingly narrating an ancient and mysterious story. In the dim light, the silver patterns shimmered with an ethereal glow, like whispers, or perhaps tales being told, adding a touch of mystery to the silent space. After bending to fasten the anklets, Su Qing slowly stood up, her posture elegant and graceful, as if every movement were a carefully choreographed dance. The exquisite silver manacles and anklets gently collided with her movements, emitting a pleasant sound, like the melodies of nature, refreshing and uplifting. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes revealing an ineffable determination and complex emotions, as if silently speaking of her resolve and the challenges she was about to face. She gently ran her hand over these exquisite restraints, her fingers tracing the delicate lines, as if engaged in a silent dialogue. Her throat moved as she swallowed, seemingly struggling to contain the turmoil within. At this moment, she felt as if she had stepped into an ancient and mysterious world, all her senses awakened, her entire attention captivated by these exquisitely beautiful restraints. The qipao, fishnet stockings, and high heels, along with the exquisite manacles and anklets on her wrists and ankles, seemed like a perfectly coordinated outfit, as if they had always been meant to be together. Her skin glowed softly in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the silver restraints. Her expression was complex and subtle, a mixture of the shame of surrender and the security of being protected. Her eyes held a hint of helplessness, of submission, and a deep, profound indulgence. Her posture was full of sensuality and allure, but beneath it lay an unknown strength. The design of the silver manacles and anklets was exquisite, every detail revealing luxury and refinement. The fine textures seemed to tell the history and traditions of the grassland people, not just as beautiful works of art, but as symbols of ancient traditions of the plains. Su Qing felt the sense of restraint and control brought by these exquisite items, but also a peculiar sense of security that arose from them. They encircled her skin tightly, as if telling her that no matter how dangerous the outside world might be, this would be her final sanctuary. Su Qing gently closed her eyes, attempting to absorb it all. A complex mix of emotions swirled within her: shame, helplessness, submission, and even a sense of indulging in being controlled. Her body trembled slightly, as if resisting, yet also as if succumbing. She knew she stood at a turning point, with a complex yearning in her heart for both conquest and protection. As her breathing gradually steadied, Su Qing opened her eyes, a flicker of determination flashing within them. She knew that perhaps the report she would write could destroy everything here, but no matter which path she chose, it would be a new journey. And for now, she was willing to momentarily immerse herself in the beauty of this moment, allowing her mind and body to revel in this unique form of restraint.

As Su Qing was lost in thought about the ancient wedding customs of the Ji Kingdom, a faint sound reached her ears, making her alert. A subtle and unusual movement broke the surrounding tranquility. Su Qing's eyes snapped open, and she saw something stealthily moving in the grass beside her. Her instinct was to dodge, but her body felt controlled by an unseen force. The noose behind her crept closer, as if equipped with a navigation device, curving through the air towards Su Qing's wrists. A slender rope silently wrapped around her wrists, followed by the other hand. Su Qing's body jolted, and she instinctively tried to run, but the subsequent noose quickly bound her ankles. The entire process was swift, leaving Su Qing no chance to react. Su Qing's left wrist, right wrist, left ankle, and right ankle were all tightened by the nooses and pulled backward. Everything happened so fast that Su Qing had no time to react before being tightly bound by the ropes. As the ropes rapidly tightened, Su Qing realized that these four nooses were connected. Her wrists and ankles were pulled together behind her, forming an extremely shameful and restrictive posture – the "Four Horses Fanning Their Hooves." She struggled to get up, but the heavy long skirt and the sudden restraint made her lose her balance, falling heavily onto the soft grass, kicking up dust. "What's happening?" Su Qing was terrified. She tried to struggle but found her hands and feet firmly secured together, forming a shameful and embarrassing posture. Her heart pounded rapidly, and her cheeks flushed with a faint blush of shyness. As a modern woman, she knew she shouldn't yield so easily, but deep down, she harbored a strange anticipation, a longing to be pampered and protected. "I can't give up like this!" Su Qing gritted her teeth, her eyes revealing determination and stubbornness. Despite being in such a predicament, she hadn't given up struggling. She tried to use her long skirt as a cover to hide her embarrassing state. However, the weight of the skirt didn't help; instead, it made it harder for her to break free, her movements appearing somewhat clumsy. "This can't be real, I must find a way to escape!" Su Qing cried out in her mind, a flicker of resolve in her eyes. She tried to regulate her breathing, to remain as calm as possible, searching for any possible escape route. The ropes tightly bound her wrists and ankles, and she could feel every inch of her skin protesting the restraint, yet unable to break free. Su Qing remembered the self-defense tools she carried, but her hands, fixed behind her back, couldn't break free from the nooses at all, only causing her wrists to hurt more. Su Qing's body was in an extreme arched state, like a bridge, with her waist supporting the entire weight of her body. Every attempt to struggle only increased the swaying of her body, making it harder to maintain balance. She knew she was in trouble, and all her self-defense tools were useless. She could only lie on the ground helplessly, letting the ropes control her movements. A moment of laxity had completely stripped Su Qing of her ability to resist. There was no use for "pepper spray" or a "Swiss Army knife"; she could only writhe and struggle powerlessly on the ground, like a young she-wolf being conquered. Su Qing's gaze swept around, searching for any clues she could use. She was both scared and unwilling, but more than that, she felt a peculiar sensation. She took a deep breath, trying to relax her body and clear her mind. Su Qing's heart was filled with complex emotions. On one hand, she craved freedom; on the other, she was drawn to this unknown experience. She knew she was an independent woman and shouldn't accept any form of restraint, but in a corner of her heart, she longed for an unprecedented feeling – to be pampered and protected. Her eyes darted around, like a trapped fox, her pupils spinning as she searched for any hope of release from this sudden restraint. This skilled technique made Su Qing nervous. This was clearly not the work of a tourist. Could it be a malicious assailant? "Damn it!" Su Qing cursed under her breath, filled with frustration. She tried again to use her self-defense tools to save herself, only to find that her hands couldn't reach the items in her pockets. The ropes tightened, her wrists aching, as if each rope represented her helplessness and powerlessness. Her only hope now was that this so-called "wedding binding" ritual was just a game and she could be released at any moment. But her reason told her that things might not be so simple. "How did it come to this?" Su Qing questioned herself in her mind, also feeling a wave of shame. She had thought this would be an interesting experience, but she never expected to end up in such a predicament. She gritted her teeth, complex emotions surging within her – a desire to be protected, yet an unwillingness to yield easily. Her eyes held both stubbornness and vulnerability, as if narrating her inner struggle. "Why do I feel this way?" Su Qing murmured to herself, her voice tinged with a hint of unwillingness. "I came here to expose the truth, not to get myself into such a difficult situation." Su Qing's breathing became rapid, her heartbeat echoing in her chest, every inch of her skin resisting the restraint of the ropes. Her lips trembled slightly, and tears welled up in her eyes, yet she tried hard not to let them fall. Her voice, though weak, was filled with determination: "I hope nothing bad happens..." Her hands were tightly bound behind her back by the ropes, her wrists aching from struggling, and the weight of her long skirt made every movement clumsy. Even so, Su Qing still tried to find a glimmer of hope. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, hoping to discover something, but there was nothing but silent grassland and the occasional neighing of horses. As she struggled, Su Qing's heart raced, and sweat trickled down her cheeks. Her breathing grew more rapid, each gasp seeming to emphasize her powerlessness. But her gaze did not give up; it was a look that could find light even in despair. "I need to find a way..." Su Qing muttered to herself, her voice soft yet firm. She began to carefully observe her surroundings, trying to find any clues that could help her escape. The weight of the long skirt made it harder for her to move, but it also gave her an opportunity. She could pretend to be more helpless, thus deceiving the other party and buying herself precious time. Su Qing's heart pounded again. She knew time was of the essence and she had to act quickly. She took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and prepared to take action. Although her body was tightly bound, her will was not defeated. Her eyes shone with a resolute light, as if telling the world that no matter what difficulties she encountered, she would not yield easily. Su Qing's expression revealed a subtle change – a mixture of the shame of being bound and curiosity about the unknown outside world. Deep within her, there was resistance to external restraint, and a desire to be protected and pampered. These two emotions intertwined, making her mood exceptionally complex. As time ticked by, Su Qing gradually adapted to the physical discomfort. Her gaze became more determined. Although her heart was still filled with conflict, she had begun to think about how to find a breakthrough in this situation. She tried to relax her body, reducing unnecessary struggles to conserve her energy. At this moment, her mind and body reached a subtle balance, remaining vigilant while preparing for whatever was to come. Just as Su Qing was preparing to act, she suddenly noticed a figure in the distance slowly approaching her. This person seemed to have no ill intentions, which put Su Qing slightly at ease. She signaled to the person with her eyes, hoping for help. However, her heart was still filled with uncertainty, not knowing what would happen next.

Aslan, whom she had met a few times before, arrived on horseback. His sudden appearance caught Su Qing off guard as he expertly subdued and bound her. She tried to writhe, but the ropes around her wrists and ankles only tightened. Each struggle underscored her helplessness and vulnerability. Her heart pounded, a complex mix of fear and excitement surging within her. "How did I let myself get into this situation?" she silently asked herself. Yet, she knew the answer – a curiosity for the unknown, a craving for challenge, and a subtle desire to be utterly conquered. Su Qing lifted her head slightly, trying to assess her position. She found herself bound in a peculiar way, a posture that brought a flush of shame yet also a strange sensuality. Her attempts to shift only produced faint sounds, amplifying her unprecedented sense of helplessness and fragility. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes betraying a complex blend of shyness and resolve. "Shi Ma Dao Zuan Ti," known in Japanese bondage as "Ebi Shibari" or "Shrimp Tie." The bound individual lies on their abdomen, ankles and wrists pulled together behind their back, resembling a shrimp curved backward. Su Qing lay face down on the soft, carpet-like grass, feeling an indescribable pressure beneath her abdomen. Her limbs were tightly bound, forming a shrimp-like posture, bent backward, rendering her almost immobile. This unique position filled her with shame, yet also sparked a flicker of curiosity. Though she maintained an outward composure, her inner world was a tempest of fear, curiosity, and anticipation. Su Qing took a deep breath, attempting to acclimate to this novel state of restraint. She felt her heartbeat quicken with each inhale, every cell in her body yearning for some form of release.

Su Qing's face was obscured by a black leather mask, revealing only a pair of bright, deep eyes. A small gag was nestled in the center of the mask, expertly sealing her lips and preventing her from uttering any feminine sounds. At the bridge of her nose, an exquisite nose ring pierced through, its delicate chain elegantly extending into her braided hair at the back of her head, creating a subtle sense of control. These restraints were not mere adornments, but symbols of her current identity and mission, their presence imbuing her with a peculiar and unique sense of security. Su Qing sat upright in a yurt bathed in a warm, yellow glow, a complex swirl of emotions churning within her. With each step of the horse, the leather straps gently caressed her skin, sending subtle, tantalizing sensations that brought a faint blush to her cheeks. She knew she was embarking on an unknown journey, stepping into a world brimming with challenges and temptations. It was this very unknown that made her heart race and her blood surge. The tent flap slowly parted, revealing Aslan's figure. He carefully removed Su Qing's mask, exposing her exquisitely adorned face. The nose ring and chain swayed gently, adding a touch of exotic allure. A hint of joy flickered in Aslan's eyes as he spoke softly, "You came, as I expected. Rest assured, I will protect you." Then, with a hint of teasing, he asked, "But have you considered staying?" Su Qing gazed at Aslan with adoring eyes, a mixture of shyness and resolve intertwined within them. Though she remained silent, Aslan seemed to read her thoughts. On this special night, surrounded by a collection of exquisite restraints, she felt not only the shame of being conquered but also an unprecedented sense of being protected. All these feelings merged, creating a complex yet delicate emotional landscape that was impossible to resist. Though unspoken, her eyes seemed to ask, "Can you give me a reason to stay?" This silent query was filled with anticipation and challenge, as if inviting Aslan to delve into the depths of her heart. "Wearing these will ensure your safety," Aslan said, a barely perceptible tenderness in his eyes. "I'll hold the keys for now, alright?" In Aslan's hands were two exquisite restraints: a locked gag and a chastity belt. These restraints were not only finely crafted but also soft to the touch, conforming to the skin, exuding an aura of luxury and mystery. They were both symbols of the nomadic culture and a special form of protection for Su Qing. "Mmm," Su Qing managed to respond, nodding while wearing the gag. She understood that the locked gag would prevent it from falling out, and the chastity belt would ensure her body remained inviolate. Of course, this also encompassed Aslan's desire for control and protection. Su Qing knew this was Aslan's unique way of safeguarding her. Despite a sense of shyness and nervousness, she accepted this special gift. Aslan removed the "Morning Mist Gag" from Su Qing's mouth and replaced it with the locked one. This gag had a long, soft rubber rod inside, which was more effective at suppressing sound. However, the discomfort of it reaching her throat still made Su Qing feel a slight urge to gag. With a click, the lock on the gag fastened, like a shackle on her face. Unless Aslan permitted it, Su Qing would no longer be able to utter human words, only soft, alluring "mmms." The coldness of the lock stimulated Su Qing's cheeks, yet it brought her an unprecedented sense of peace, as if the entire world had become quiet and beautiful at that moment. She looked up at the starry sky, her heart filled with anticipation for the days to come. Though everything was unknown, under Aslan's protection, she felt an unparalleled sense of safety and trust. Next was the chastity belt. Because it was to be worn in a woman's most private area, Aslan specifically sought Su Qing's consent. Su Qing's heart felt as if it would leap out of her chest. She bit down hard on the gag in her mouth, struggling to suppress the complex and intense fluctuations of her emotions. Beneath her traditional Kyrgyz robe was a restraint garment made of intricately woven leather straps, clinging tightly to her smooth skin with almost no excess fabric. With every movement she made, the subtle friction between the fine straps and her skin sent waves of both delicate and shameful sensations. Her cheeks flushed crimson from these intense feelings, and her mind filled with shy, complex fantasies. She took a deep breath, doing her best to regulate her breathing, not allowing her emotional turmoil to show. Aslan stood before her, a gentle smile on his face, seemingly aware of her inner tension and unease. Aslan's question was concise and direct: "Shall I help you put it on, or will you do it yourself?" To this question, Su Qing could only respond with a muffled "Mmm~" Su Qing glanced down at the straps tightly encircling her thighs, her cheeks flushing with shame. Despite this, she nodded, acquiescing to Aslan's help. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot," Aslan said apologetically. "If you need me to help you put it on, just nod?" Su Qing hesitated slightly but then slowly nodded, permitting Aslan's assistance. Aslan chuckled softly. "Yes, everything as you command, Princess." His tone was playful, yet respectful. Though Su Qing could not speak, her eyes conveyed a complex mix of emotions—helplessness, submission, and a hint of being cherished and protected. This subtle shift in emotion made the atmosphere even more ambiguous and suggestive. Aslan slowly knelt down, his fingers gently tracing the exquisite leather straps, each subtle movement seeming to convey a silent message. He began to carefully help Su Qing put on the specially made chastity belt, each step meticulously designed, not only embodying the meaning of restraint but also carrying a sense of ritual and symbolism. During this process, Su Qing's gaze followed Aslan's every move, her eyes revealing a complex mixture of anticipation and apprehension. In that moment, she seemed to realize the beginning of a transformation, one that was both unsettling and full of promise. Aslan gently lifted Su Qing's robe, and the sight before him caused him to slightly gasp—Su Qing was only wearing the leather-strap restraint garment, with almost everything else exposed. Aslan deliberately asked, "Are you doing research with this too?" Su Qing's face turned even redder, clearly made more ashamed by the awkward question.

Alice's eyes held an ineffable plea, a desperate yearning for freedom, for escape from a fated destiny. Yet, before Nurrbek's unwavering gaze, it all seemed utterly futile. Her struggles gradually waned, until she could only accept the reality—trapped on this vast grassland, facing an unknown and uncertain future. Her breath grew heavy and rapid, every subtle movement cruelly restricted by the bonds, every inch of her skin protesting the discomfort. Alice closed her eyes, a maelstrom of complex emotions churning within her, a mixture of fear of the unknown and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of hope for what lay ahead. In this moment, time seemed to freeze, leaving only the internal struggle and cries echoing across the silent steppe. "Clench your fists," Nurrbek's voice was low and firm, leaving no room for refusal. Alice took a deep breath and obeyed, though the fear within threatened to consume her entirely. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but couldn't stop the slight tremor that ran through her body from tension. Her golden curls swayed gently with her shivers, accentuating her vulnerability and helplessness. Nurrbek's fingers moved with practiced dexterity among the ropes, each motion precise and unerring. He began to bind Alice's fingers together, securing them with specially made finger cuffs. Where each inch of skin met the rope, it felt like a needle prick, sending waves of unbearable stinging pain. Alice gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the moans that threatened to escape, but a faint whimper still involuntarily escaped her throat. She could feel every fiber of the rope tightening, binding her fingers so tightly that they were almost numb. As her fingers were bound one by one, Alice felt an unprecedented sense of powerlessness. She was forced to endure the shame brought by these restraints, her heart filled with a complex mix of emotions—a sliver of conquered humiliation and an overwhelming helplessness. Her breathing became rapid and heavy, her chest heaving violently, as if silently narrating her internal struggle. Her shirt, stretched taut as if about to burst, rose and fell with her breaths, adding a touch of poignant beauty to the scene. When the last finger cuff was locked tightly in place, Alice could no longer hide her emotions. She lowered her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, falling onto the floor and leaving small, damp marks. Despite the pain and helplessness churning within, she remained silent, letting her tears flow freely. In that moment, she felt as if she were in a desolate void, hearing only the intermingling of her own rapid breaths and soft sobs, a heartbreaking silence filling the air. Then, Nurrbek swiftly unfurled a roll of transparent, yet incredibly strong, tape. With practiced, merciless movements, he tightly wrapped her fists, until they formed solid spheres. Each layer of tape pressed into her skin, as if leaving a permanent mark, inflicting a sense of restraint she had never known. Alice's nails dug deep into her palms, yet she dared not make a sound, only watching helplessly as Nurrbek gained complete control. Her eyes were fixed on the brutal process, her heart filled with a profound sense of powerlessness, as if trapped in an endless abyss. The black tape wrapped around dozens of times until her fingers were completely immobilized. He then slipped on a pair of black boxing gloves, ensuring she couldn't use the strength of her fingers to break free. To guarantee absolute security, Nurrbek reinforced the bindings with thin leather straps, winding them around and around, fifteen or sixteen times in total. Each strap was like an iron chain, binding her tightly, a cruel reminder of the futility of escape. Next came Alice's arms. They were already folded, her forearms pressed tightly against her upper arms. The tape wound around and around, each layer a solid shackle, binding her securely. Alice could feel the stinging beneath her skin, each breath becoming heavy. She gritted her teeth, holding back the tears that threatened to spill, every cell in her body rebelling against this inhuman restraint, but all her efforts were swallowed by the relentless tape. To prevent any possible slippage, he crisscrossed thick leather straps vertically, locking each one. The buckles were cold and hard, like a decree of fate, sending a chill down her spine. A deep despair flickered in Alice's eyes, yet she hadn't entirely given up hope. However, Nurrbek's actions didn't cease. He produced a coil of wire and a pair of pliers, further securing Alice's arms with even greater firmness. Each new restraint felt like a brand seared onto her skin, making every breath agonizingly difficult. Alice knew that even the slightest struggle would inflict unbearable pain. She closed her eyes, trying to escape the reality, praying in her heart that this was all a nightmare. But the cold ground and the tight bindings told her it was all too real. She could only try her best to remain calm, searching for any possible way out. Then came Alice's legs. Nurrbek repeated the same process, effortlessly folding her legs, bringing her thighs and calves together tightly, and further binding them with rope, tape, and wire, making them incredibly difficult to separate. Nurrbek forced Alice to lie down and began the final operation—wrapping her hands around her shoulders and binding her feet tightly to her hips. With each layer of tape securing her, Alice felt her control over her body gradually slipping away. Her limbs seemed to detach from her, leaving only a curled-up torso, almost incapable of movement. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath becoming exceptionally difficult, each struggle only tightening the tape. Sweat trickled down her forehead, blurring her vision, but she could still clearly feel the cold gaze surrounding her. Next, Nurrbek produced a large bundle of black stockings, a gleam of indescribable excitement in his eyes. He began meticulously pulling the black stockings onto Alice's body, each layer fitting snugly, making her limbs feel incredibly heavy, as if burdened by immense weight. As layer upon layer of stockings were added, her body's contours became more pronounced, every inch of her skin tightly encased, losing the possibility of free extension. Following this, a set of black leather restraints was fitted onto her limbs. These restraints were coated internally with a permanent strong adhesive, clinging to her skin like a second skin once contact was made. As they unforgivingly adhered to her skin, Alice experienced a level of confinement she had never known, every movement becoming incredibly difficult, as if each step was a struggle against fate. Finally, a waist cincher embedded with iron hooks and barbs was tightly wrapped around her waist, compressing her originally 18-inch waist to a mere 14 inches. The barbs on the hooks gently pricked her skin, causing a complex sensation of pain mixed with itching. This peculiar feeling coursed through her body like an electric current, almost suffocating her. Though her mind was in turmoil, she maintained a facade of silence, not allowing any sound to escape. D-rings were attached to the leather restraints on her extremities, and four chains extended from them, ultimately connecting to her waist cincher. Her elbows and knees were also bound together with chains, forcing Alice to humiliatingly support herself on her elbows and knees, crawling slowly across the floor. Each movement was accompanied by an unprecedented sense of shame and confinement, as if her dignity were disappearing with every arduous crawl. Throughout this process, Alice's emotions were a tangled mess. Shame and confinement weighed on her like two invisible mountains, yet deep within, she searched for any possibility of breaking free. She knew this was merely the beginning of a long journey. Alice closed her eyes, trying to shut out the external world, but the fear and helplessness within surged like a tide. She heard her own heartbeat, each throb heavy, as if reminding her of her desperate situation. The air was filled with the distinct scent of tape, mingled with the salty tang of sweat, all of it making her feel suffocated. Time seemed to stand still, each second an agony. She didn't know how long this torment would last, but a powerful feeling deep within told her that this moment would be forever etched in her memory, an indelible part of her.

As Nurbek slowly approached, his hand gripping the form-fitting suit prepared especially for her, the air grew heavy with unspoken tension. Crafted with a special process, the material was soft and slick, clinging to her skin like an intimate second skin. Its color was deep and mysterious, a stark contrast to Alice's complexion, designed to accentuate her perfect curves and highlight her unique, seductive allure. Alice lay still on the ground, her gaze vacant and distant, as if her soul had already departed her body. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that the changes about to befall her would forever alter her destiny. "This thing is incredibly durable, even if you thrash around, it'll last you seventy or eighty years without a tear," Nurbek emphasized with an unyielding tone, his rough voice carrying a domineering authority. "The material is special; bullets or knives won't be able to damage it. Once you put this on, there's no escaping!" Alice's heart leaped. She couldn't fathom the extent of the confinement this suit would impose once worn. It was more than just clothing; it was a miniature prison, inescapable once donned. Even the sharpest blade couldn't cut through it, let alone her own attempts to break free. The thought of it wearing out naturally was a fool's dream. To put it on meant to wear it for life, until the very end. The design of this garment was exceptionally unique, fitting her form while retaining a certain elegance, yet it was fundamentally different from any clothing she had ever worn. It wasn't designed for standing or walking, but was tailor-made for crawling on the ground. Soft padding was cleverly incorporated into the inner sides of her arms and legs. These details, seemingly thoughtful, were in fact designed to prevent injury during her crawls, ensuring she could perpetually move on the ground like a true bitch. Alice would be permanently stripped of her right to stand and use her hands, forced to move on all fours like a dog, her humanity revoked. She would be prostrate on the ground, utterly transformed into a pet devoid of freedom. Because she was to be a dog, the suit's design differed from ordinary clothing. It wasn't for standing, but for facilitating crawling. The inner sides of her arms and legs were thoughtfully padded at the very bottom. This would prevent damage to Alice's body, allowing her to crawl on the ground indefinitely, just like a real dog. Tears streamed silently down Alice's face, wetting her velvet-soft eyelashes. Once, she had been one of the most sought-after models in the city, possessing not only enviable beauty and a stunning figure but also eyes that seemed to pierce through the soul. Now, it had all dissolved into nothingness. She felt an unprecedented sense of helplessness and despair. Her once glamorous life felt like a dream, and upon waking, only barrenness and silence remained. She didn't know how to navigate the path ahead, nor when this existence would ever end. With her limbs folded and secured, Alice had already assumed the basic form of a bitch. The process of Nurbek fitting her into the latex canine suit was akin to dressing a skeleton, perfectly molding Alice into her new shape. Nurbek first flipped Alice over, leaving her limbs splayed upwards, like a helpless fawn. He began, following the suit's design, to slowly ease it onto Alice's body, starting from her feet. Each movement was excruciatingly slow and deliberate, as if engaged in a meticulous act of artistic creation. As the suit gradually covered every inch of Alice's skin, her breathing grew more rapid, her chest heaving, revealing her inner struggle and resistance. Alice attempted to resist the confinement, but her limbs were firmly secured, rendering her completely immobile. As the suit tightened, she felt her body undergoing a strange transformation. She began to realize this was no mere garment—it symbolized her new identity, her redefined place in an unknown world. The air thrummed with tension, and Alice's heartbeat was almost palpable. The subtle textures on the suit's surface brushed against her skin, conveying a delicate sensation. When the suit was halfway on, Nurbek gently turned Alice over, placing her on all fours. Tears welled in Alice's eyes, but she couldn't stop what was happening. Her perfect curves were further accentuated beneath the latex, and every subtle movement brought an indescribable sense of shame. Nurbek continued his work, slowly pulling the suit up Alice's back, starting from her buttocks, and zipping it up her spine until it reached the nape of her neck. The suit seemed meticulously designed, a perfect fit for her alone, as if tailored to her every inch of skin. There was no excess fabric; in fact, it felt deliberately two sizes too small, tightly encasing her body and accentuating her unique and captivating curves. It brought out her short forelimbs, slightly longer hind legs, and her slender waist, like a supple willow branch. Even more striking was the absence of distinct hands and feet; only the outline of fists could be seen at her shoulders, and the subtle bulges of feet at her hips, barely noticeable even to the most meticulous observer. The suit formed a seamless whole, transforming her body into that of a canine, yet retaining a distinctly feminine allure and sensuality, a bizarre fusion of art and taboo. Alice tried to move her limbs, feeling both foreign and familiar. The suit clung so tightly, as if it were an extension of her own body, imposing an unprecedented sense of restraint. With every slight movement, the suit's material gently rubbed against her skin, creating a subtle yet unique sensation. The material seemed to sense her every motion, adhering to her skin and shifting with her movements, as if telling its own story. This confinement prevented her from moving freely, but it also allowed her to experience an unparalleled intimacy. With every breath, she could feel the soft, close fit of the garment; with every heartbeat, she could feel its delicate caress against her skin. She couldn't believe it, nor did she want to accept this version of herself, but the reality was before her, inescapable. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, only to find she couldn't ignore a strange sense of excitement and curiosity, a light piercing through the gloom in her heart. Alice took a deep breath, struggling to control the turmoil within. She felt an ineffable shame, as if she had become some peculiar exhibit, on display for all to see. Yet, despite the pain and helplessness in her heart, she couldn't resist the peculiar sensation brought on by being so tightly bound. Her cheeks flushed with shame, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity and exploration, as if searching for a sliver of self-recognition and understanding.

Aiden slowly walked towards an old wooden chest by the side. A thin layer of dust covered its surface, as if whispering tales of time. He gently opened the lid and took out a delicate, violin-shaped hand and neck restraint. This restraint was crafted with exquisite artistry, each curve flowing and elegant, like a precious piece of art. In the dim light, it emitted a soft sheen, as if possessing some kind of magic, drawing the eye. "I've always been against the tradition of 'bound marriage' on the plains. I intended to help you, but seeing you fight in handcuffs earlier, and your struggles in the cage, made me truly understand the meaning of this tradition. Indeed, a woman is most beautiful when she is bound." Hearing Aiden's words, Layana's heart sank. Layana gazed at the object in Aiden's hand, her heart stirred. Her body was already extremely weak, and she could only watch helplessly as Aiden slowly approached her, her wrists and neck about to be locked into this exquisite and unique hand and neck restraint. Aiden's movements were careful and deliberate, as if he were handling a fragile treasure. The moment the cold metal touched her skin, Layana's heart rate quickened. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to calm the complex emotions within her – humiliation and helplessness intertwined, like an invisible shackle, tightly binding her. Then, Aiden took out another, even more special item from the wooden chest – a pair of spreader bar leg restraints. These leg restraints were also meticulously designed, forcing the wearer to maintain a slightly spread-legged stance. Aiden gently fastened them onto Layana, his tone calm and respectful. "In our plains tradition, this is not just a restraint, but a ritual, signifying that you will become a member of a family." His words conveyed reverence for tradition, along with a hint of imperceptible tenderness. Layana listened quietly to Aiden's explanation. Although her body was bound by these peculiar restraints, her gaze remained firm and unyielding. She knew that no matter what difficulties she encountered, she could not lose her inner dignity. Aiden seemed to sense Layana's inner resilience, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. He added softly, "I know this isn't easy for you, but please believe me, this is for your safety. With these on, you are my 'betrothed bride.' Declaring your belonging with these will prevent other 'hunters' from continuing to see you as 'prey.'" Layana's gaze met Aiden's. Although still filled with doubt and unease, she chose to believe his words and temporarily accept the arrangement. She knew that in this strange and unknown world, trust might be the only light to guide her forward. Aiden led Layana out of the trap, and the scenery before her moved her. Lush forests stretched into the distance, sunlight dappled through the leaves, and the air was filled with a fresh, moist scent. They headed towards a hidden safe house, a secluded spot deep within a cave. Aiden explained softly, "This is our temporary safe house. Everything here has been prepared for you." As their footsteps echoed in the spacious cave, Layana noticed that the interior of the safe house was arranged simply and comfortably, with attention to detail in every corner. A simple painting hung on the wall, depicting the vast plains, evoking a sense of home. A handmade woven rug lay on the floor, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Aiden said gently, "Here, you can temporarily set aside your burdens. I will ensure your safety." Layana looked around, a sense of security she had never felt before welling up within her. She began to realize that Aiden's actions were not malicious but held a deeper meaning. In this journey full of challenges and uncertainties, perhaps she could find a path to regain her freedom. Aiden's movements were slow and meticulous, each finger carefully working as if each step carried profound significance. When he connected one end of a chain fixed to the cave wall to the D-ring on Layana's hand and neck restraint, the air seemed to freeze, leaving only the faint clinking of metal echoing in the cave. Layana stood still. Though her body was bound by cold restraints, her eyes burned with a determined flame – a yearning for freedom and a brave face towards the unknown. She watched Aiden's every move intently, her heart a mix of emotions, a sense of helplessness at her current situation, and a glimmer of hope for the future. When Aiden finished the connection and gently tugged the chain to confirm its security, he turned, his gaze warm and sincere, looking at Layana. "This is our home now, my 'betrothed bride.'" These words were like a key, quietly unlocking a door in Layana's heart. She lowered her head slightly, her gaze resting on her wrists, the presence of the hand and neck restraint a constant reminder of the harsh reality. However, Aiden's words seeped into her heart like a warm current, and that gentleness made her unconsciously lift her head, a flicker of curiosity and exploration in her eyes. Aiden caught her gaze, his expression softening further. "I know all of this happened too suddenly, and perhaps it's unfair," he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. "But I promise, this will be a safe place for you. I will do my utmost to make you comfortable until we can find a complete solution." Layana's eyes locked onto his, her emotions churning. She knew she had few options, but the sincerity in Aiden's words touched her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Alright," she finally said, "but I hope you will keep your promise." Aiden nodded solemnly, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "I will. Now, let's make this place a true home together." Flames danced within the cave, illuminating the subtle shifts in their expressions and warming the simple space. Aiden walked to a storage chest, took out some herbs and simple tools, and began preparing for Layana's comfortable life. He skillfully mixed the herbs, and a faint herbal aroma filled the air – a gift from nature, and a gesture of Aiden's care for Layana. Layana sat quietly, observing Aiden's busy figure. Despite the simple surroundings, she could feel the sense of security emanating from the place. She knew that even if the outside world was full of unknowns and dangers, at least here, she had found a haven to shelter from the storm. Layana sat quietly, her legs bound by heavy leg restraints, forced into an almost unnatural spread-legged position – a posture that was impossible to ignore, an M-shaped spread. The leg restraints, made of special material, were cold and heavy. The cuffs at each end felt like two invisible mountains pressing down on her feet, making every step a struggle. Her eyes were hazy, a blush spreading across her cheeks, her appearance a silent allure to the world around her, or perhaps a reflection of her inner struggle and helplessness. The surroundings were silent, save for the occasional whisper of the wind and the faint murmur of voices in the distance, weaving an unusual atmosphere, as if time had frozen at this moment.

Despite the cruel and suffocating reality, Rayana's mind found a sanctuary in this moment. She took a deep breath, a simple act made agonizingly difficult by the gag. Yet, it was this very difficulty that made each breath precious. She closed her eyes, allowing her spirit to wander in this private realm, until Aiden's voice pulled her back to reality. In this seemingly desperate moment, Rayana's spirit quietly awakened. She realized that though her body was bound and her voice stolen, her will remained unbroken. In this instant, she began to explore the courage and strength deep within her, searching for any possible way to resist. Though the path ahead was filled with the unknown and challenges, Rayana was ready to face it all. Aiden's voice sliced through the silence, rousing Rayana from her inner haven. He spoke softly, a hint of almost imperceptible sympathy in his tone, "I know you don't want this, but soon, you'll understand the meaning of it all." As his words fell, he began to move, each step precise and gentle, as if handling a rare work of art. He folded Rayana's limbs, binding them one by one with fine wire and chains, then fitted her with custom leather gloves and leg coverings, ensuring her every movement was strictly restricted. Now, Rayana could only support herself on her elbows and knees, like an animal, her arms and legs bound too tightly to extend. Her eyes flickered with defiance and rage, but at this moment, she could only protest silently. Aiden's movements, though gentle, carried an irresistible force, each one landing precisely, making her feel not just the physical restraint, but also the mental oppression. Rayana tried to summon her inner strength to resist, but every attempt ended in failure. Her heart was filled with conflict—a strong aversion to her current situation on one hand, and a deep fear of her unknown fate on the other. Throughout this process, Aiden continuously offered soft reassurances, attempting to calm the turmoil within Rayana. But every word he spoke felt like a fresh wound on her heart. Rayana knew all too well that no matter how sincere Aiden's words sounded, they hid deeper calculations and intentions. She tried to find a glimmer of hope, but each attempt felt futile. Rayana's gaze darted around, searching for clues or any sign of hope. She noticed various tools and instruments in a corner of the room, and a mirror on the wall, reflecting her bound figure. She stared at her reflection, her eyes revealing a complex mix of emotions—resignation to her current state and uncertainty about her future. Despite this, a resolute and unyielding light still shone in her eyes, as if silently proclaiming her determination. Though reality was cruel, Rayana never gave up. Her gaze pierced through the mirror, as if penetrating the cold restraints, searching for any chance of escape. Rayana's mind seemed to disconnect from the outside world in this instant, leaving only her inner dialogue. She took a deep breath, sensing every subtle change in the air. Though the gag made normal breathing difficult, she persisted, each breath a testament to her longing for freedom. Her eyes were tightly shut, as if she were using her inner sight to explore the secrets hidden in the darkness. Aiden's movements finally ceased. He stepped back a few paces, admiring his "creation" with satisfaction. Rayana's limbs were bound in a peculiar posture, her body confined to an almost inhuman state. A look of resolve flashed in her eyes; even facing this predicament, she had not abandoned her search for an escape. Aiden's voice broke the silence once more, this time with a commanding tone, "Rayana, this is for your own good." His words were like icy blades, piercing Rayana's soul. But an unprecedented strength surged within her, a power born from the depths of her being, a yearning for freedom and a rebellion against oppression. She began to try and perceive her surroundings with her mind, hoping to find a clue for escape. Aiden surveyed his "masterpiece" with satisfaction, a smug smile gracing his lips. His gaze lingered on Rayana's restrained body. Her arms, once filled with strength and pride, were now tightly encased in specially designed leather gloves, with rubber padding at the elbows shaped like sow's trotters. This not only limited her mobility but cruelly stripped her of her human dignity. The same design was cleverly applied to her legs, with pig's hoof-shaped rubber padding at the knees, rendering her posture even more grotesque and helpless. Despite this, Rayana's spirit remained unbroken. A flicker of despair crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by a calm composure as she silently observed her surroundings, searching for any possible clue. Aiden's voice shattered the silence, "Rayana, you must learn to accept this, for this will be your new life." The words were like biting frost, piercing Rayana's heart, yet she showed no outward sign of wavering. She knew well that though her body was bound, her spirit remained free. She tried to gently move her restricted limbs, experiencing the peculiar sensation of restraint, while an unyielding flame ignited within her. Rayana took a deep breath, a simple act made agonizingly difficult by the gag. But she knew that each breath was not just for survival, but a declaration of defiance. Aiden's footsteps once again broke the room's silence. He approached Rayana, carrying new restraints, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. He slowly drew near, each step seeming to intensify the oppressive atmosphere in the room. His fingers lightly caressed Rayana's palms as he began to fit her with specially designed leather hand covers. These covers tightly encased her fingers and toes, making it impossible for her to separate them, further restricting her freedom of movement. Every inch of leather tightened felt like another shackle added to Rayana's heart. Her inner world churned with complex emotions—humiliation, helplessness, and a profound fear of the future. Even so, Rayana maintained a resolute posture, her eyes burning with an unyielding flame. Though unable to speak, she protested this inhumane treatment with her steadfast gaze. Her eyes shone brightly in the dim light, capturing every detail, trying to find any possible way out. Every one of Aiden's actions was meticulously recorded in her mind, not a single subtle movement overlooked.

Aslan's gaze, gentle as moonlight, deftly unfastened the X-shaped restraints on Su Qing's wrists and ankles. The metallic click was crisp and delicate, echoing in the hushed room like the conclusion of a ritual, or a lingering melody. With a final soft snap, the restraints fell onto the plush carpet, their gentle collision a soft echo in the musical passage. Su Qing felt the release from her bonds, a prime opportunity to escape. Yet, she didn't attempt to move immediately. The anesthetic injected earlier still coursed through her system, rendering her limbs heavy and numb, as if held fast by an invisible force, each muscle resisting the urge to awaken. Though her mind was as clear as a mirror, her body refused to obey. A flicker of helplessness crossed Su Qing's eyes, but she betrayed no anxiety or unease. Instead, she lay there, savoring this rare moment of tranquility, as if engaging in a profound dialogue between mind and body. The surrounding silence deepened her calm, allowing her to feel each breath, each heartbeat with clarity. A tranquil energy permeated the air, freezing time as if only she and the room existed. Aslan stood by, a silent sentinel, his form seemingly absorbed into the stillness. He appeared to be waiting for something, his gaze profound, as if capable of seeing all, yet as tender as a guardian of a fragile soul. As time slowly unfurled, Su Qing gradually experienced a peace and harmony she had never known, as if her inner world was undergoing subtle transformations, becoming richer and deeper. In this new experience, she found an unprecedented confidence and strength, preparing her for the journey ahead. Aslan's movements were as graceful and precise as a dance. He gently positioned Su Qing's arms and legs in a specific posture, then meticulously dressed her in custom-made leg and long gloves. These meticulously crafted garments, made of a material both soft and resilient, conformed perfectly to every inch of Su Qing's skin, offering ultimate comfort. During the process, Aslan employed a series of carefully designed straps and metal rings to ensure the gear was snugly and securely fastened to Su Qing, every detail considered to create optimal conditions for the experience to come. Once all accessories were in place, Aslan produced a welding torch and proceeded to weld each metal ring shut, fine sparks dancing in the air, marking the complete finalization of this step. This was not merely physical restraint, but a connection and commitment of the spirit, an irreversible sense of trust blossoming forth. As the welding concluded, a solemn sense of ritual permeated the atmosphere, adding a touch of mystery to the impending experience. Su Qing lay still, her body slowly awakening from the stupor of the anesthetic. Though her limbs still felt a touch numb, she could now perceive subtle tactile feedback. She noticed Aslan's focused and meticulous gaze, a unique light blending professionalism with care, instilling in her an unparalleled sense of security. Under such attention, her inner unease gradually dissipated, replaced by curiosity and anticipation for the new experience. As the lights slowly dimmed, Su Qing's eyes fluttered open, her vision appearing brighter and clearer. She felt enveloped by a profound tranquility, as if she had just undergone a spiritual cleansing. At that moment, Aslan's gaze fell upon four U-shaped metal frames laid out nearby. They gleamed with a silvery sheen, their unique and elegant shapes seemingly designed to conform to the human form. These frames were crafted from a special alloy, both lightweight and robust, and their inner surfaces were lined with soft padding containing micro-airbags that automatically adjusted firmness based on body pressure, providing Su Qing with ultimate comfort and security. Aslan gently placed the metal frames along the outer midline of Su Qing's bound arms and legs. The frames were ingeniously designed, as if custom-made for Su Qing. They fit perfectly, causing almost no discomfort during the fitting. With the metal frames secured, Su Qing's limbs were held firmly in a folded position. Yet, this was not a restraint, but rather an unprecedented sense of stability and trust. A wondrous peace and reassurance washed over her, as if all her anxieties were dissolved in this moment of ritual. With the metal frames in place, Su Qing closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could feel subtle changes occurring quietly within her. Her heartbeat seemed to synchronize with everything around her, each breath becoming deeper and more relaxed. She sensed that these frames were not just physical supports, but also emotional anchors, as if whispering, "You are safe here. You can relax." Aslan's movements were remarkably calm. He skillfully fitted cold metal rings onto the outer sides of each U-shaped restraint frame, tightening them one by one until they pressed snugly against Su Qing's limbs, leaving no gap. It all happened so swiftly that Su Qing barely had time to react, only able to watch as her limbs were permanently affixed to the unfamiliar apparatus. Next came the most chilling step – driving long spikes through the metal frames, deeply into her limbs, utterly immobilizing her. Aslan's fingers brushed over the cold surface of the metal hammer. His gaze was steady and focused, the hammer and spikes in his hand seeming to carry a mission beyond the ordinary. Su Qing's eyes were fixed on the scene. Though her body was firmly secured to the custom restraint frame, unable to move or feel pain, the fear within her surged like a tide, causing her body to tremble uncontrollably, as if every nerve was tautly stretched. As Aslan brought the hammer down, the first spike was driven firmly into the pre-drilled hole. Su Qing could clearly hear the dull thud of metal meeting bone. Although her body was numb to pain, the sound seemed to pierce directly through her soul, making her heart clench, and the world before her blurred, as if the entire reality had become distorted and unreal in that moment. Then came the second, third, and fourth spikes… each driven with unerring accuracy. Blood slowly spread across the surface of her latex restraint suit, forming a gruesome tableau. The edges of the bloodstains were a deep crimson, gradually coalescing into thin streams that meandered down the suit's texture, like an artistic rendering of despair and struggle. A faint scent of blood, tinged with an ominous aura, filled the air.

Su Qing slowly opened her eyes. Warm light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling on her face. She found herself in a room decorated with extreme warmth and comfort. She tried to move and immediately realized her condition hadn't changed – she was still wearing that special restraint suit, her limbs held in a feline posture. However, unlike before, she was now lying in a soft and exquisitely designed "cat bed." The cat bed was made of high-grade velvet, with a fluffy and elastic filling that ensured Su Qing wouldn't feel uncomfortable even after lying down for a long time. She looked around and found the room was decorated as if it were custom-made for her. In the corner stood a litter box filled with fine sand, and along the walls hung various toys, as well as several small bowls, clearly intended for food and fresh water. These bowls were made of high-quality ceramic, with delicate patterns painted on their surfaces. Each bowl was small and cute, perfectly complementing the overall style of the room. Shortly after, the door was gently pushed open, and Xiao Yu entered with a gentle smile, holding a bowl of what looked like a specially prepared meal. The ingredients in the bowl were enticing in color and emitted a faint aroma. "Sister, good morning," she said softly, her eyes filled with an indescribable sense of satisfaction. Su Qing tried to respond, but the gag in her mouth only allowed her to make muffled sounds. Xiao Yu smiled, walked over, and knelt beside her, gently stroking Su Qing's head. "I know what you're thinking, don't worry, this is your new home." Xiao Yu began to feed Su Qing, her movements careful and deliberate, as if afraid of hurting her. After breakfast, Xiao Yu took out a small device, pressed a few buttons, and the sounds Su Qing made turned into clear and pleasant meows. This surprised and amused Su Qing. Although she couldn't express it, her eyes conveyed a complex mix of emotions – a sense of pampered happiness, tinged with a hint of helplessness and subtle gratitude. For the rest of the day, Xiao Yu stayed by Su Qing's side almost constantly. She played with Su Qing using an exquisite cat teaser toy. The toy was cleverly designed, with a cluster of bells at the tip that jingled merrily when gently shaken, capturing Su Qing's attention. Despite her limited mobility, Su Qing still tried her best to follow the toy's movements, attempting to catch it. Each time this happened, Xiao Yu's face would break into a radiant smile, a smile as warm as sunshine, illuminating the entire room. As evening approached, Xiao Yu gently attached a soft leash to Su Qing's collar and took her out for a walk. Although Su Qing's limbs were restricted, under her sister's careful guidance, she could still move slowly. They walked down a quiet alley lined with flowers that emitted a faint fragrance. Passersby occasionally cast curious glances, but most simply smiled and continued on their way. Su Qing felt the warmth from her sister and experienced a different kind of freedom. Although it all happened within a limited space, her spirit felt immensely liberated. Su Qing, molded into a feline form by the restraint suit, now lived with her sister, Xiao Yu. Xiao Yu had prepared a cat bed for Su Qing to sleep in, a litter box for her needs, and played with her using a cat teaser. In the evenings, she even took Su Qing out for walks. Xiao Yu cared for the dependent Su Qing with the meticulousness of someone tending to a pet, yet these arrangements also reflected her inner possessiveness. Xiao Yu had fantasized since childhood about her sister, who was superior to her in every way, kneeling before her one day. Now, it had come true in this form. Her sister had even installed a device on Su Qing's collar that converted whimpers into meows. Yet, Su Qing didn't seem to resist; instead, she seemed to be indulging in it. Of course, in her current state, she was incapable of resisting any of her sister's arrangements. Compared to her time on the grassland, although her body was restrained, Su Qing's spirit remained free. The morning light, soft and gentle, filtered through the seams of the curtains, like delicate brushstrokes, painting golden lines on Su Qing's soft and warm "cat bed," ushering in a new day. Su Qing slowly opened her eyes. Although still tightly encased in the special restraint suit, after a day of adaptation, she could now feel the wondrous nature of the garment – it not only maintained her body temperature but also provided an incredibly comfortable tactile sensation. Su Qing gently shifted her body, reveling in the sense of security the restraint suit offered, as if it had become an extension of her own body, familiar and reassuring. As her consciousness gradually cleared, she attempted to stretch her limbs, only to find that such movements were more akin to an elegant feline stretch – the most she could manage within her confined space, not true freedom of movement. The room, meticulously arranged by Xiao Yu, exuded an atmosphere of warmth and comfort, every detail showcasing her sister's meticulous care. In the dawn light, Su Qing's eyes held a complex emotion – a blend of the happiness of being deeply cherished and a hint of helplessness mixed with a sense of release. Soon, the door was gently pushed open, and Xiao Yu entered the room with a soft smile, holding a colorful breakfast – a platter of fresh fruit preserves, accompanied by a cup of specially made nutritional drink, vibrant in color and fragrant. She softly called Su Qing's name, her tone as gentle as if she were speaking to a beloved pet. Su Qing tried to respond to her sister's call, but could only emit muffled sounds, as the gag in her mouth prevented her from speaking. Su Qing's eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. Although the gag prevented her from speaking, her gaze seemed to say, "Thank you, my dear sister." Xiao Yu smiled gently, gently stroking Su Qing's head, always able to read Su Qing's emotions at a glance. Xiao Yu knelt down and began to feed Su Qing with utmost care, each movement incredibly gentle and precise, each bite taken with extreme caution, as if afraid of hurting her sister. Su Qing savored this delicate and warm care, a complex swirl of emotions rising within her – the happiness of being deeply cherished, a touch of helplessness, and gratitude for her sister's unwavering attention. After breakfast, Xiao Yu skillfully attached the voice converter to Su Qing's collar. With a clear and pleasant "Meow~," Su Qing seemed to have truly transformed into an elegant cat. She began to stroll leisurely around the room, occasionally sniffing the toys placed by the wall with her small nose, or gracefully licking her paws. Each step was filled with grace and freedom. Xiao Yu watched all this quietly from the side, her eyes filled with satisfaction and happiness. She knew this joy came not just from Su Qing's actions, but from seeing her sister gradually adapting to her new life. In her sister's eyes, Su Qing was not just a family member, but a dear friend, and their bond quietly deepened with each heartwarming scene. Xiao Yu's care for Su Qing stemmed not only from affection for her sister but also from a unique possessiveness. From childhood, Xiao Yu had lived in Su Qing's shadow, harboring both admiration and a touch of envy for her outstanding elder sister. Now, Su Qing's dependence on her in this manner filled Xiao Yu with both excitement and satisfaction. However, Su Qing did not show obvious resistance to her sister's arrangements; rather, she seemed to be indulging in them. She knew that despite her physical limitations, her spirit remained free. Compared to her time on the grassland, her current life felt more like a new beginning, a different experience. In Su Qing's heart, this difference was not a restraint, but another form of freedom and growth.

Unable to remove the straitjacket for the time being, her arms bound behind her back, Su Qing could no longer use her computer, but she still fulfilled her duties as a journalist and scholar. When going out for interviews, her sister, who bore a striking resemblance to Su Qing, would use Su Qing's press pass, while Su Qing, who had transformed into a feline, would pose as a pet. This unusual disguise even made some of Su Qing's infiltration interviews easier, as most people wouldn't pay attention to a feline.

Alia's legs were mercilessly immobilized by the cold metal skeleton and sharp long nails, and she could only bend and move forward with difficulty with her knees. Every time she moved, the sound of the metal skeleton rubbing against the long spikes was particularly shrill in the silent air, as if it was mercilessly reminding her that her freedom had been completely taken away. Her body was tightly bound by a straitjacket consisting of only a few straps, every inch of her skin forced to be exposed to the air, exuding an unspeakable femininity. Her breasts appeared even more erect under the constraints of the straitjacket, and with every breath she took, the full curves rose and fell slightly, as if silently telling of her pain and humiliation. Her hips appeared even more rounded under the tightness of the belt, and every time she moved with her knees, the plump curves would sway and quake with her, exuding a suffocating _seductive_ temptation. Her legs, despite being fixed in a bent state, the slender and elastic lines, still showed an inescapable luster and reflection under the belt, as if they were flickering faintly in the darkness. Alia's appearance was undoubtedly stunning. Her face was as cold as an iceberg, and her lofty brow revealed an air of inviolability. Her eyes were deprived of vision by the blindfold, but those tightly closed eyes still revealed a deep and mysterious beauty. Her lips were blocked by the mouth yoke and she was unable to speak, but the lips that were slightly open seemed to be silently calling out for something. Her costume was simple and revealing, just a straitjacket consisting of a few belts, but this simple costume outlined her figure perfectly. The curves of her body were even more pronounced under the constraints of the straitjacket, and every inch of her skin exuded a sheen and reflection that could not be ignored under the tightness of the straps. Her movements were restricted, but every time she moved, it was as if she was displaying how sexy and seductive she was.

Aaliyah's parents had been waiting for a long time, their faces beaming with joy. Umar formally presented his betrothal gifts, and Aaliyah's parents were overjoyed, as if a great weight had been lifted from their hearts. They accepted the tradition as a matter of course, their hearts filled with anticipation and contentment for the future, as if they could already see the family's honor and future prosperity. However, within Aaliyah, there was only endless pain and humiliation. Her body was bound by a straitjacket, a tight garment made of tough leather that ensured she could not move freely. The straitjacket clung to her skin, pressing every inch of her flesh until it ached, as if countless invisible hands were tearing at her soul. Her beauty and sensuality, once her pride, had now become the source of her suffering. Aaliyah's nose ring and chain were made of pure silver, intricately carved with complex patterns, symbolizing tradition and restraint. With every breath, she felt the coldness and heaviness of the metal, as if an invisible chain were pulling at her destiny. Her legs were fixed by a metal frame and spikes, forcing her to remain bent, to walk on her knees. Each step was like treading on knife-edges, each movement accompanied by excruciating pain. Her gag silenced her, preventing any sound from escaping her lips, and her blindfold plunged her into darkness, stripping her of her sight. Aaliyah's heart burned as if consumed by fire, every breath she took filled with endless agony. Every movement she made seemed to be a display of her suffering and humiliation to the world, every breath a silent cry of defiance and resistance. Her inner world, once filled with hope and dreams, was now reduced to an abyss of darkness and despair. Aaliyah's parents, who had once showered her with boundless love, had now become the greatest obstacle to her escape. Their joy, their smiles, were the most glaring mockery. Their laughter echoed in her ears, as if taunting her pain. Her inner world, once filled with hope and dreams, was now reduced to an abyss of darkness and despair. Aaliyah's breathing was rapid and heavy, each inhale a desperate struggle. Her body was tightly bound in a straitjacket composed of only a few straps, every inch of her skin cruelly exposed to the air. Her breasts rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing, their smooth skin shimmering with an alluring sheen in the dim light. The restraint of the straps made her breasts appear even more prominent, their curves flawless, like nature's most exquisite sculpture. Her hips seemed fuller under the straitjacket's embrace, each slight shift causing the straps to tighten, but also accentuating her sexiness. Her legs were fixed by a metal frame and spikes, forcing her to remain bent, to walk with difficulty on her knees. Her legs were long and strong, her skin taut, radiating an irresistible allure with every tremor. Aaliyah's appearance was unforgettable. Her face was as cold and beautiful as an iceberg, her proud gaze piercing through the gaps of the blindfold, as if silently protesting all the injustice. Her lips were sealed by the gag, unable to utter a sound, but her eyes were filled with fury and humiliation. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, each strand a meticulously crafted work of art, perfectly complementing her proud demeanor. The few straps of her straitjacket could not conceal her breathtaking figure. Her expression was stern, and though her movements were restricted, every subtle struggle was imbued with power and beauty. Her body appeared even more alluring within the confines of the straitjacket, each movement a silent testament to her pain and humiliation. Aaliyah's parents stood by, their faces beaming with joy, as if it were all a matter of course. "We thought Aaliyah's temper would mean she'd never get married!" Aaliyah's mother said with a smile, tears glistening in her eyes. Her voice held a hint of relief, but more so, a concern for her daughter's future. Aaliyah's body trembled slightly, her heart filled with pain and humiliation, but she could not express it, only conveying her resistance and unwillingness through body language. Her fingers twitched slightly, attempting to grasp any chance of escape, but each attempt ended in failure. A flicker of despair crossed her eyes, only to be replaced by resolve. Aaliyah was tethered by her nose ring and chain, her body bound by the straitjacket, her legs fixed by a metal frame and spikes, forcing her to remain bent and walk on her knees, her mouth gagged, her vision stolen by the blindfold. Every breath she took was agonizingly difficult, every movement accompanied by the grating of metal and the pain in her body. Her parents were oblivious to this, their attention entirely focused on the impending wedding, as if Aaliyah's suffering were merely a minor prelude to the ceremony. "See, how well-behaved and obedient she is," Aaliyah's father nodded with satisfaction, as if it were all the result of his meticulous planning. His words were filled with respect for tradition and a desire to control his daughter, completely disregarding Aaliyah's inner struggle and defiance. Aaliyah's mother chimed in, her smile tinged with a hint of helplessness, but more so with acceptance and resignation to the current situation. Aaliyah's heart burned as if consumed by fire, every breath she took filled with pain and anger. She tried to convey her displeasure with her eyes, but the blindfold robbed her of her sight, preventing any communication with the outside world. Her fingers trembled slightly within the straitjacket, searching for any opportunity to escape, but each attempt ended in failure. Her legs were fixed by a metal frame and spikes, forcing her to remain bent and walk on her knees, each movement accompanied by excruciating pain. Aaliyah's parents' attention was entirely focused on the impending wedding, as if Aaliyah's suffering were merely a minor prelude to the ceremony. Their faces beamed with joy, as if it were all a matter of course. Aaliyah's heart was filled with pain and humiliation, but she could not express it, only conveying her resistance and unwillingness through body language. Her fingers twitched slightly, attempting to grasp any chance of escape, but each attempt ended in failure. A flicker of despair crossed her eyes, only to be replaced by resolve. Aaliyah's breathing grew rapid, each inhale feeling like she was drawing in a ball of fire that seared her lungs. Her fingers fumbled within the straitjacket, searching for any seam she could exploit, but each attempt ended in failure. Her knees, pressed by the metal frame, had lost all sensation. Each movement felt like stepping on knife-edges, the pain piercing her very soul.

Umar's fingers pressed lightly against Alya's clitoris, each touch sending jolts like electricity through her body, igniting waves of uncontrollable tremors. Alya's body convulsed, her legs instinctively clamping shut, but the restraints of the metal frame and spikes held her fast, mocking her helplessness. Her breathing grew ragged, the nipple rings on her chest glinting coldly in the dim light, reflecting the undeniable pain and humiliation in her eyes. Umar watched his handiwork with satisfaction, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He slowly picked up a set of clitoral rings, more intricate in design, their surfaces studded with tiny barbs, as if crafted to better stimulate Alya's sensitive flesh. His fingers glided over the rings, feeling the sharpness of the barbs, before he began to slowly slide them onto Alya's clitoris. Alya's skin shimmered faintly in the dim light, as if speaking of her defiance and resilience. Though her appearance was cold and proud, her pale face exuding an icy aura, it couldn't conceal her agony and humiliation at this moment. Her movements were bound, yet the muscular lines, hinting at a power that could erupt at any moment, still silently rebelled against it all. Each piercing of her sensitive flesh brought Alya a mingled sensation of stinging pain and pleasure. Her body began to writhe involuntarily, trying to escape this feeling that was both agonizing and exquisite, but every struggle only tightened the leather straps and chains that bound her. The contrast between her proud, aloof demeanor and her humiliating predicament, coupled with the powerlessness of her inescapable feminine instincts, reached its zenith at this moment. Finally, the clitoral rings were secured onto Alya. Umar's gaze roamed over her body, finally settling on the nipple rings and clitoral rings adorning her. These metal adornments were not merely decorative; they were instruments of his control. He pressed a button on the controller, and Alya's body jolted violently as the vibration devices on the nipple and clitoral rings activated, stimulating her most sensitive parts. Instantly, Alya's body felt as if struck by lightning, every inch of her skin trembling, her breath becoming rapid and chaotic. Her body writhed uncontrollably amidst the vibrations, desperately seeking a position to escape the sensation, but no matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free from the intense stimulation. Alya's heart was filled with a maelstrom of emotions, a mixture of fear and anger towards Umar, and shame and pleasure at her body's lack of control. Tears streamed from beneath her blindfold, mingling with sweat and dripping onto the floor, her body convulsing with the vibrations, as if narrating her inner struggle and torment. A flicker of cold satisfaction crossed Umar's eyes as he adjusted the frequency of the vibration devices, causing Alya's body to convulse more violently. Her fingers gripped the leather of the single glove tightly, her nails threatening to dig into it. Each vibration felt like a direct blow to her soul, leaving her teetering on the precipice of pain and pleasure. Alya's breathing became intermittent, her voice breaking in her throat, emitting low moans. Her body felt manipulated by an unseen force, each vibration plunging her deeper into her own helplessness and vulnerability. Her mind wrestled, trying to find any sliver of escape, but each effort only pulled her further into the abyss. Umar's finger gently traced Alya's cheek, feeling the dampness there. His voice was low and soft, as if comforting a wounded child, "Feel it, Alya, feel all of it. This is a woman's instinct." Alya's soul screamed within her, her spirit trembled, and her body contorted with the ongoing vibrations. Every cell in her being shrieked, trying to escape this ineffable pain and pleasure. Her tears continued to flow, mixing with sweat and saliva, dripping onto the floor, forming a wet trail.

"Time to eat, Alia." Emily's voice was sickly sweet, like coaxing a disobedient child. Her smile was particularly eerie in the light, the corners of her mouth pulled up to an unnatural degree. "Let me feed you," she continued, her tone laced with a nauseating tenderness. Alia's body trembled slightly, her breathing growing rapid, her chest heaving. Her eyes were filled with terror, as if she had already foreseen what was about to happen. Emily seemed to relish this feeling of absolute control, her fingers gently caressing Alia's cheek as if stroking a precious work of art. "Ah, I forgot, your mouth is gagged." Emily said with feigned surprise, a hint of mockery in her voice. "Then I'll just have to feed you from behind." Her tone suddenly turned cold, a cruel glint flashing in her eyes. Emily picked up a metal instrument from the table. It was shaped like a pear, its streamlined metal head gleaming coldly under the light. "You know, this thing is called a 'torture pear'," she whispered, as if introducing an exquisite piece of art. "Because it's shaped like a pear." Her fingers lightly traced the surface of the metal instrument, as if admiring its beauty. "But it has another name, 'blooming pear'. Because once its head enters your body, you can unfold its head by rotating its tail." Emily's voice was filled with a chilling excitement. "Like a flower blooming inside your body." Her eyes sparkled with madness, as if she could already see that 'flower' blossoming within Alia. "This way, your back hole will be widened, making it easier for me to feed you." Emily's voice suddenly turned cold, her fingers gripping the metal instrument tightly, as if she couldn't wait to begin her 'performance'. "It'll just hurt a little, you'll have to bear with it." Her tone was laced with a sickening tenderness, as if comforting a patient about to undergo surgery. "Hahaha." Emily's laughter echoed in the room, with a chilling lightness. Her eyes sparkled with madness, as if she were completely lost in her own world. Alia's body trembled violently, her eyes filled with terror and despair, as if she had already foreseen what was about to happen. Emily's fingers lightly caressed the tail of the 'torture pear', as if feeling its texture. Her eyes sparkled with a morbid excitement, as if she couldn't wait to witness Alia's pain. Her fingers gently rotated the tail of the 'torture pear', and its head began to slowly unfold, like an evil flower about to bloom. Alia's body trembled violently, her breathing growing rapid, her chest heaving. Her eyes were filled with terror and despair, as if she had already foreseen what was about to happen. Emily's fingers gently caressed Alia's cheek, as if comforting her, but her eyes sparkled with a chilling excitement. "Bear with it, it'll be over soon." Emily's voice was filled with a sickening tenderness, as if comforting a patient about to undergo surgery. Her fingers gently caressed Alia's cheek, as if comforting her, but her eyes sparkled with a chilling excitement.

Emily's fingers glided lightly over the cold metal surface of the **pear of anguish**, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. Her gaze returned to Aria, whose terrified eyes filled her with an immense satisfaction. "Don't be afraid, Aria," she purred, her voice sickeningly sweet, "This is just a little 'ritual,' it will be over soon." She slowly brought the tip of the **pear of anguish** towards Aria's anus, her fingers applying a gentle pressure. The metal instrument's tip pierced softly. Aria's body convulsed violently, a suppressed whimper escaping her throat. "Oh, does it hurt?" Emily paused, as if remembering something amusing. "This is just the beginning. The most interesting part of this **pear** is yet to come." Her fingers delicately twisted the tail of the **pear of anguish**, and the head of the metal instrument began to slowly unfurl, like a bud about to bloom. "Look, it will **blossom**, like a beautiful flower opening inside your body." Her voice was laced with a morbid excitement, her eyes gleaming with a mad light. Aria's body trembled violently, her breathing growing ragged, her chest heaving. Her eyes were filled with terror and despair, as if she had already foreseen what was about to happen. Emily's fingers continued to twist, and the head of the **pear of anguish** fully opened, its metal "petals" expanding wantonly within her body. "Ugh!" Aria finally couldn't hold back a piercing scream, her voice filled with agony and despair. Her body convulsed violently, her fingers digging deep into the skin of her thighs, as if grasping for the last sliver of hope.

Aisha's heart sank, she knew it was irreversible. Her fingers clenched the hilt of her short sword, knuckles turning white with strain. She knew this moment of hesitation would seal her fate. But before she could even swing, Batu's figure loomed like a phantom, closing in with a speed that stole her breath. His hand clamped onto her wrist like a vise, the force threatening to crush her bones. Aisha gritted her teeth, swallowing the cry of pain, but the flicker of panic in her eyes was undeniable. "Stop struggling, Sister Aisha," Batu's voice was low and gentle, yet it coiled around her ears like a venomous snake, chilling her to the bone. "From today, you are mine." His other hand slowly raised the silver speculum, its metal glinting coldly in the dim light. Aisha's pupils contracted sharply, her body instinctively recoiling, trying to escape this terrifying destiny. But Batu's hand held her fast like chains, rendering her immobile. "Mmmph—" The speculum was forced into her mouth, the cold metal prying open her lips, stripping her of her last chance to resist. A low whimper escaped Aisha's throat, her eyes wide, a mixture of fury and despair swirling within them. Her fingers scrabbled uselessly in the air, trying to grasp something, but Batu's strength pressed down on her like a mountain, suffocating her. Countless images flashed through Aisha's mind: her former freedom, her past pride, everything she once was. Now, it was all ruthlessly crushed by Batu. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain almost suffocating her. Her vision began to blur, tears welling in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. She couldn't show weakness, especially not to Batu. Batu's face was inches away, his eyes burning with an almost frenzied possessiveness. His fingers traced her cheek, a touch so tender it was horrifying. "You are finally mine, Sister Aisha," his voice was deep and hoarse, like a declaration of victory. Aisha's stomach churned, a wave of intense nausea washing over her, but the speculum in her mouth denied her even the right to protest. Batu's fingers slid from Aisha's cheek, their touch cold and hard, as unfeeling as metal. He gently cupped her chin, the pressure just enough to prevent her escape, yet leaving no visible mark. Aisha was forced to lift her head, meeting his deep, cold gaze. There was no warmth in those eyes, only a primal possessiveness, like a beast surveying its newly acquired prize. Aisha's breathing grew ragged, her chest heaving, each breath carrying a suffocating pressure. Her gaze remained defiant, a flame that refused to be extinguished, but the edges of that flame began to tremble. Her lips were pressed together, an attempt to resist Batu's oppression with silence, but her body betrayed her innate fear. "Do you understand, Sister Aisha?" Batu's voice was low and slow, each word a blunt knife, slowly slicing away her dignity. His tone carried a suffocating calm, as if stating an irrefutable fact. "From now on, you no longer need to think, no longer need to choose. You only need to obey." The corners of his mouth curved upwards, revealing a cruel smile, a smile filled with a near-mad sense of satisfaction. A low whimper escaped Aisha's throat, muffled by the speculum, barely audible. Her fingers tightened their grip on the short sword's hilt, knuckles white with strain, as if trying to crush the very metal. Yet, Batu's hand held her wrist like a vise, leaving her no room to resist. Her gaze swept around, a few slivers of moonlight piercing the jungle canopy, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Those motes were like her shattered freedom, silently dissipating into the air, lost forever.

"Aaliyah, did you think you could escape?" Umar's voice dripped with a chilling threat. A bone-chilling cold spread from the depths of Aaliyah's throat, as if an ice pick were slowly piercing her esophagus, a stark reminder of the oral-intestinal chain within her. Then, Aaliyah felt a surge of powerful electricity emanate from the oral-intestinal chain, erupting within her body. Aaliyah's stomach clenched violently, the burning sensation instantly spreading to her intestines, like an invisible serpent slithering through her. Her body trembled uncontrollably, muscles tensing, as if she were being torn apart by an unseen force, every inch of her skin enduring unspeakable agony. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammered against her ribs, desperate to break free. Her vision blurred, and Umar's cruel laughter echoed in her ears, sharp as a cold blade, piercing her heart. The four women, linked together like a human centipede, convulsed in simultaneous agony. Their bodies pulled against each other, their intestines and stomachs writhing with cramping pain, each jolt making it harder to maintain balance. The horse, "Nightfall," finally buckled under the strain, collapsing onto the track. Aaliyah's lead was finally halted. "You women are nothing but my playthings," Umar's voice was low and sinister, laced with a terrifying threat. The crystal chain linking the four girls shimmered with an eerie electrical glow in the sunlight, as if mocking their helplessness. "Give up, Aaliyah," Umar's voice boomed beside her ear, with unquestionable authority. "You cannot escape my control." Aaliyah's lips trembled slightly, as if she wanted to retort, but the O-ring gag only allowed muffled sounds to escape. Her body shook violently under the electrical surge, yet she refused to yield. A determined light flickered in her eyes; though pain threatened to consume her, she bit down on the gag, refusing to give in. "Mmmph... mmmph..." Her voice was weak yet resolute, each sound a testament to her dwindling strength. Her fingers remained clamped around the bowstring, knuckles white from the strain, but she wouldn't loosen her grip. Her body swayed under the electrical assault, on the verge of collapse, but she persisted, unyielding. A flicker of anger crossed Umar's face. He hadn't anticipated Aaliyah's stubborn will. He waved his hand again, and the intensity of the current surged. Aaliyah's body jolted violently, nearly succumbing to shock. Her breathing grew ragged, her chest heaving. Aaliyah's body convulsed violently under the electrical current, her breaths becoming rapid and erratic, each gasp a final struggle. Her gaze began to unfocus, the once-firm resolve replaced by fear and despair. The electricity coursed through her, inflicting an indescribable agony, her muscles spasming uncontrollably, her entire being feeling as if it were being ripped into a thousand pieces. Umar's lips curved into a cruel smile. He knew Aaliyah's will was fracturing, her body unable to withstand further torment. The current intensified once more, and Aaliyah's body shuddered. Her legs went limp, warm liquid continuously pooling beneath the four women, trickling down the saddles, filling the air with a foul odor. Aaliyah's consciousness began to fade, her mind a chaotic mess. The strength and determination of moments ago shattered completely. Her body twitched uncontrollably under the electrical surge, each spasm a final, desperate act. Her eyes were filled with despair and helplessness, tears and sweat mingling, streaming down her face. Umar's voice was low and cold, like a demon from hell. "Aaliyah, you ultimately cannot escape my control. Your will, your dignity, will be utterly destroyed by me."

Aisha tried to pick up a small cup on the table, but found her fingers unable to grip it. The cup slipped from her fingertips with a crisp clatter. She tried again, exerting all her strength, but could only barely grasp the rim of the cup. Yet, the cup remained precarious, as if it would slip from her grasp at any moment. "These gloves..." Aisha's voice held a trace of unease, "they make me feel like a prisoner, bound and helpless." Batu did not reply, merely watching her, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. His gaze was deep, as if he were contemplating something, or perhaps waiting for something. Aisha felt his stare, and an inexplicable tension rose within her. She looked down at the gloves in her hands, a vague sense of unease settling in her heart, as if these gloves were more than just ordinary objects, but some kind of hidden symbol. Batu gently caressed Aisha's arm, murmuring, "Don't worry, Sister Aisha, this is just to make you more beautiful." His voice was soft, yet it sent a chill down Aisha's spine. His fingers glided slowly over her arm, as if admiring a exquisite work of art, his eyes holding a trace of adoration, yet concealing a desire as unfathomable as the abyss. Aisha's breathing grew rapid. She felt her body being stripped of its freedom, inch by inch. Her arms were stiff, her fingers immobile, as if imprisoned in an invisible cage. A fierce resistance surged within her, but her body could not make any move to fight back. Her vision blurred, and all she could hear was Batu's deep, gentle voice, as if proclaiming her fate. Her fingers twitched slightly within the gloves, but could not separate, finding it difficult even to pick up a wisp of silk. Her body was tightly encased in clothing, as if bound by layers of shackles, unable to move. Batu's fingers lightly traced her wrist, as if admiring a exquisite piece of art. His gaze held a hint of adoration, yet concealed a desire as unfathomable as the abyss. A wave of unease washed over Aisha. She felt herself losing control of her body, as if being dominated by some invisible force. "Batu..." Aisha's voice was weak, laced with a plea, "Please... please let me go." Batu smiled slightly and shook his head. "No, you don't understand yet. This was designed especially for you, Sister Aisha." His voice was low, with an undeniable firmness. "This is to protect you, and to make you more perfect." Aisha's wrists, elbows, and upper arms were now tightly encased by the fingerless gloves. The black leather gleamed with a cold luster in the dim light, and there were barely noticeable clasps. Batu produced several small locks and secured the clasps at the wrists, elbows, and upper arms of the gloves, firmly fixing the torture-device-like fingerless gloves onto Aisha's arms, completely sealing them. "Click—" The first sound of a lock closing was piercingly loud in the silent space. Aisha's eyelashes fluttered slightly. Batu's fingers paused, as if waiting for her reaction, but she simply stood there, like a statue. "Click—" The second lock snapped shut, Aisha's arms were completely immobilized, the clasps of the fingerless gloves biting together tightly, as if to seal her arms in eternal darkness. Batu's fingers trembled slightly. He knew the significance of these gloves—they were not merely a torture device, but a symbol, a fate from which there was no escape. Batu's fingers slid over the clasps once more, and the final "click" echoed, Aisha's arms were sealed shut. Her arms could no longer move an inch. The clasps of the fingerless gloves, like cold snakes, coiled tightly around her arms, completely stripping her of her freedom. The tent fell into a deathly silence, only Aisha's breathing echoing in the air. Despair surged within Aisha. She felt her freedom being stripped away, bit by bit, as if her body and soul were imprisoned within these cold gloves. Aisha felt a profound helplessness. The gloves covered her palms and arms, her fingers forced together, unable to separate, even bending becoming difficult. Her breathing grew rapid, her heart pounded, but she could not make any move to resist. Her fingers twitched slightly within the gloves, as if trying to break free from this restraint, but each attempt ended in failure. Her palms felt unnaturally weak within the gloves, as if all strength had been absorbed by the leather, leaving no room for even the slightest resistance.