Whimper through the pacifier.

A pitiful whimper escaped through the pacifier, muffled but audible, as the sleek black vibrator buzzed relentlessly against the diaper. The frilly pink dress clung to your trembling body, its lace ruffles a cruel contrast to the “Crestwood’s Pet” label peeking out. The buttplug and chastity cage amplified every sensation, your submission laid bare. Emma’s eyes lit up with sadistic delight at your sound. “Aw, listen to that,” she mocked, reaching for the vibrator’s controls. With a twist, she cranked the intensity to its maximum, the wand’s bulbous tip sending shockwaves through you.

Your muffled cries grew louder, the pacifier barely containing them, as the vibrations overwhelmed you. Malik leaned in, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, his deep voice rumbling, “That’s a good pet.” Riley snapped photos, her laughter sharp. “He’s breaking so nicely,” she said, zooming in on your flushed face. The dorm’s walls seemed to close in, the air thick with their dominance. Every buzz deepened your humiliation, Crestwood’s control a suffocating force, your feminized form a toy for their entertainment.