Kneel down

Have you ever trusted someone so deeply that you could surrender everything to them without reservation?

He knows everything about you, including the secrets you can't reveal and the past you're reluctant to bring up.

He is your lighthouse when you're lost, your beacon when you're lonely, your shield when you're afraid, and your sword when you're defiant.

He is like the vast ocean of stars, letting you drift but making you submit.

---

The night is tranquil, with stars shining brightly. Outside the window, sheer white curtains billow gently in the breeze, framing a beach softly caressed by waves. By the floor-to-ceiling window, an empty wine cabinet holds two empty wine glasses, their crystal walls stained with a faint red hue from the wine.

On the large, European-style round bed, a man lies naked, his body sprawled in the shape of an "X." His wrists and ankles are bound to the four corners of the bed by leather straps. His body is marked with vivid red welts, drawn by something thin and flexible; in some places, blood has even begun to bead, standing out seductively against his fair skin. His young face, with its sharp contours and prominent nose, is tense as he breathes heavily, his chest covered in red marks rising and falling dramatically.

A pair of hands moves over his body, touching and squeezing him with enough force to expose the raw sensuality of the moment. Bound as he is, he has no way to resist, allowing those hands to roam freely over every part of him. When the hands slide down to his lower body, he opens his eyes.

"That's enough." His voice is cold, like his dark eyes, completely untouched by lust. The man who was playing with his body pauses and asks, "Are you calling it off?" Staring blankly at the ceiling, he replies, "You're not skilled enough to excite me. I don't want to waste any more time."

The man's face darkens as he climbs off the bed, untying the ropes at the bedposts, and then places the black whip from his wrist onto the bedside table. Before he leaves, he throws out a mocking remark: "Is it my lack of skill, or is it that Young Master Xu's threshold for excitement is just too high?"

Xu Ye, still lying motionless in his spread-eagle position, furrows his brows in frustration and closes his eyes.

Yes.

It was his problem.

---

Xu Ye's aversion to women started with a few incidents he witnessed as a child. Back then, he was young, and the marriage between his father, Xu Ting, and his mother, Zhou Jia, was nothing more than a name. They had married for the sake of family business, and their interactions were as cold as ice. Even his birth was just to fulfill the duty of producing an heir. Zhou Jia loved to travel and spent more time away than at home. Xu Ting frequently brought different women back home. The first time eight-year-old Xu Ye stood downstairs and saw his father pressing a woman against the window, he was petrified. And it continued. Those grotesque collisions of flesh made him feel sick.

As he grew up, Xu Ye realized that he felt no desire for women. He had girlfriends and tried breaking free from this mental cage more than once. He tried therapy, medication, and other methods, but none worked. He couldn't even muster an erection around beautiful, alluring women.

It was a wealthy second-generation friend named Liu who led him into the gay scene. By then, Xu Ting's restaurant empire had expanded across the country, his fortune skyrocketed, and Xu Ye, a sophomore in college, started mingling with the sons of other wealthy families. These rich kids had all sorts of playthings, some of which Xu Ye neither accepted nor took part in. Liu Jing was openly gay, a top, and often had attractive young men around him. As he and Xu Ye got closer, he noticed Xu Ye's lack of interest in women and decided to tempt him with men. Generously, he even offered one of his young lovers to Xu Ye for the night.

That night, Xu Ye experienced a new kind of thrill. He spent the night indulging, nearly exhausting the long-lashed boy. The next day, he returned the boy to Liu Jing, blushing and repeatedly apologizing. Liu Jing only laughed, slapping him on the back and telling him not to be so rough next time. After that, he often invited Xu Ye to join in.

But soon, Xu Ye realized his desire was waning. He was even losing interest in men. By then, he had graduated and joined Xu Ting's company, starting from the bottom and gradually taking on more responsibilities.

What truly changed things for him was a video on someone's phone at a party. The brash young man had tied up a subordinate who had offended him, whipped him, and recorded it, proudly showing off the footage.

The solid ropes, the fragile body. The crimson whip marks, the quivering neck.

Xu Ye sat in place, his face flushed, watching the blindfolded, bound man on the screen, and he felt something stirring under the table. That night, he lay awake in bed, unable to sleep, imagining himself in the bound man's place. He found pleasure in this fantasy and then released his pent-up energy, exhausted.

He began to explore SM proactively, and as he found himself craving more intense methods and becoming increasingly dependent on pain for pleasure, he began to break down. He saw himself as a monster, a pervert, a disgusting creature who needed abuse for release. He hated himself for this but was helplessly hooked, like an addict.

Xu Ye's exhaustion now wasn't just physical—it was mental as well. The man who had just left was called Camel. That, of course, wasn't his real name, just his nickname in the gay community. Xu Ye and Camel had been together for about half a year. At first, Camel's skills satisfied him, but over time, they lost their effectiveness, leaving him frustrated. He was growing numb to the pain, unable to find the pleasure he sought. He feared that if this continued, he might truly become impotent.

He needed a lifeline.