Emma brings out a frilly dress, insisting you wear it for the rest of the night.

Emma’s eyes gleamed as she reached into her wardrobe, pulling out a frilly pink dress with layers of lace that shimmered under the dorm’s dim light. “Time to dress up, pet,” she said, her voice dripping with authority. You froze, the diaper’s bulk already forcing your legs apart, the chastity cage a constant ache. Riley held your arms, ensuring no resistance, as Emma slipped the dress over your head. The fabric clung to you, the hem barely covering the diaper, its monogrammed “Crestwood’s Pet” label peeking out. The pacifier in your mouth felt heavier as Riley adjusted the dress’s bow, her fingers lingering. “You’ll wear this all night,” Emma declared, stepping back to admire her work. The mirror reflected your new reality—a feminized figure, trapped in Crestwood’s game. Riley smirked, snapping a photo. “Let’s see how you handle this.” The night stretched on, your humiliation deepening with every crinkle of the diaper.