Beg Emma to let you change back

Your voice trembled as you dropped to your knees, the frilly pink dress pooling around you. “Please, Emma, let me change back,” you begged, the pacifier slipping from your mouth to dangle by its ribbon. The diaper crinkled loudly, amplifying your shame. Emma’s lips curled into a cruel smile as she yanked the leash, pulling you to your feet. “Oh, pet, you don’t get to decide,” she purred, dragging you into the hallway. The dorm doors were open, students spilling out, phones already recording. The dress’s lace ruffles swished with every step, the “Crestwood’s Pet” label on the diaper peeking out as you stumbled. Laughter erupted around you, a junior girl shouting, “Look at the baby princess!” Riley followed, snapping photos, her grin wide. “Keep begging,” she taunted, “it’s adorable.” The hallway became a stage, your plea a performance, deepening your humiliation under Crestwood’s unyielding gaze.