What's next?
Physical resistance
The moment Emma turned her back, you bolted.
Your sneakers squeaked against the polished floors as you sprinted down the empty hallway, the chastity cage's vibrations fading with distance. You didn't have a plan—just raw, panicked instinct telling you to run.
A wrong turn.
Dead end.
The supply closet door groaned as you barricaded yourself inside, heart hammering against your ribs. Muffled footsteps approached.
"Tsk tsk." Emma's voice oozed through the thin wood. "Did you forget? Every room locks from the outside at Crestwood."
The handle turned.
The Consequences
-
The Capture
Riley's meaty hands dragged you out by your collar, your kicking legs leaving scuff marks on the tiles -
The Audience
A crowd had gathered—junior girls whispering behind hands, seniors filming with smirk -
The Lesson
Emma produced the leash from her blazer pocket, its silver nameplate already engraved: "CRESTWOOD'S PET"

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