Breeze through geography class, because after that anything seems easy.

Not much of note happens for the rest of the work day. The only issue is that Alex seems to be absent for your afternoon classes. She says "I'll be right back, I'm just getting something ready"... and then doesn't return. It hangs over your mind through the afternoon, not just because of the empty seat next to you, but the empty hole in your... heart? Or something that sounds less cheesy. What you notice is that you feel significantly worse when you don't know where she is than when you do. Needless to say, classes drag on more than usual. Especially as the sunlight disappears, replaced by an impenetrable mist that effectively turns the windows of the classroom into extensions of the wall.

You've got to look for her. As soon as class ends, you get out of your seat, and check your phone just before you go off... and as it turns out, you've gotten a text message. Your contacts list is mostly a graveyard of distant family members and people who pretended to tolerate you enough to finish a group project with you however many years ago... but this one is from Alex. The only contact you'd want right now.

Hey Rosie! Come over to the storage room on the east wing, I've got something special for you ;)

You realise instantly what sort of "something" that winking emoji probably refers to, and you soon feel your face heat up and your eyes widen. The nerves from yesterday are back, making your heart do loops in your chest. You take time to breathe, hoping the extra few seconds will help calm you, before slinging your bag of books over one shoulder and heading to where Alex directed you. You try to bat away thoughts of what might possibly be in wait for you when you make it to the storage room...

...which is just as well, because you could never possibly have predicted this.

Displayed on a low, shaky-looking table, is Gracie Tayt, bound with light rope, with her face down and her rear in the air, without even a stitch of clothing to preserve her modesty. The sight of her brings your mind to the centrepiece of a medieval feast, like she's a roast beast to be consumed by guest after guest. The only luxury she seems to have been afforded is a pillow on which to rest her head - and even that isn't much, as on closer inspection it's a shopping bag full of something soft.

A silence lingers. The sound of rain patters against the single, blacked-out window of the room.

"So, what do you think? Pretty nice, right?" Alex comes into your vision, visibly proud of what she's done, and pats the nude Gracie on the rear, causing a yelp to sound out. "I figured, since she was giving you trouble earlier, why not get a bit of ****? She's tied up, and ready for you to have your way with her. It's totally perfect, right? Getting back at her, just like you want!"

Something about this is making your skin crawl. "How... How did you get her like this?"

"Oh, that was easy! I just had to get her alone for a second, and then she didn't put up a fight at all~" Alex talks about abducting and stripping another woman like it's the most regular thing in the world. Plus, I even got her all worked up for you! Look at her, she's soaked." And she runs a finger across Gracie's openly-displayed slit, as if to confirm that yes, that girl is indeed wet.

A third voice asserts itself - it's Gracie's, and she sounds very different in this state. Almost... ****? "Pleeeeeeease~ I've been such a naughty girl, and I need to be puniiiished~ Please, fuck me and give me what I deserve~"