Nothing

You stubbornly sit on the floor and wait. You're not a goddamn pack mule.

When Krik returns, their eyes widen with fury. "Oh, this is how it is, is it?" they snarl. "You think you're above me? You?"

Krik starts rummaging in a crate. "I read the purchase files on you, you know. Not that you're worth the time. But I know how your body works. You've earned another punishment, but that can wait. First let's... convince you to move that crate."

They produce a handful of complicated screws of some kind. No -- tiny clamps. Six of these are clamped to the outer edges of your breasts, the inner edges, and directly onto your nipples. Then a fine cord is run through all six to attach them, and the ends of a separate cord tied to the ones on your nipples, forming reins.

Krik takes the reins, stands in front of you, and starts walking.

They're not walking fast, but it takes all of your effort to keep up. Any slackening pace is agony, due to the nipple clamps. But walking has its own torments; the rope tied around your body squeezes around your breasts as it takes the weight of the crate, and rubs over your clit. The weight's distributed enough that it's not horribly painful like the nipple reins, but it is persistent, since you can't stop. About halfway across the room, you feel an orgasm building.