Stare at Sophie.

The ball gag dug into your cheeks, saliva dribbling down your chin as the buttplug’s relentless vibrations pulsed through your core, the chastity cage a cruel, unyielding restraint. The frilly pink dress clung to your sweat-drenched body, the “Crestwood’s Pet” diaper crinkling with every twitch, amplifying your shame under the moonlit courtyard. You glared at Sophie, her lips trailing down Malik’s neck, her fingers clawing at his shirt. She met your gaze with a wicked smirk, whispering to Emma, “Let’s brand our QOS slut.”

Emma tugged your diaper down, exposing your ass to the jeering crowd, and slapped a temporary “QOS” tattoo onto your skin, the spade symbol a humiliating mark of ownership. The students roared, cameras flashing.
Sophie climbed onto Malik’s lap, her skirt hiked up, revealing her bare thighs as she straddled him. She moaned loudly, grinding her hips down as Malik’s hands gripped her ass, guiding her. His pants were undone, his thick cock sliding into her wet pussy with a slick, audible thrust. She gasped, riding him hard, her tits bouncing under her tight top as he fucked her deep, their rhythm raw and unapologetic. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she whined, her voice a taunting melody as she threw her head back, cumming on him while you watched, the netorare a gut-wrenching spectacle. Riley zoomed in with her phone, sneering, “Enjoying the show, cuck?”