Let me out!

Kevin's POV ------

It was pitch black, and the door wouldn't budge.

I pounded on it, my fists aching as I yelled, "Let me out! Somebody—open the damn door!"

My voice echoed uselessly, swallowed by the suffocating dark.

Panic clawed at my chest, and I was about to scream again when a hand clamped over my mouth, firm and unrelenting.

Another arm snaked around my waist, hoisting me up like I weighed nothing.

My legs flailed, arms swinging wildly, but it was no use—I dangled in the air, helpless, as I was carried deeper into the room.

The grip shifted, and before I could twist free, a strip of tape sealed my lips, turning my protests into muffled mmmm dagger grunts.

My wrists were yanked upward, leather straps snapping around them, tight and unyielding.

I stumbled as my feet hit the floor again, my body forced upright, arms stretched high until the straps hooked into a chain dangling from the ceiling.

I tugged, hard, the metal clinking faintly, but this body—Kaori's body—was weak, frail, no match for the restraints.

My heart hammered, fear spiking as I pulled again, my muffled yells growing louder, more desperate.

Then, out of nowhere, lights flared—dim, crimson, casting the room in a bloody glow.

My eyes stung, squinting to adjust, and slowly the space came into focus.

It was a teacher's office, or at least it looked like one: a desk and chair sat to my right, papers neatly stacked; the door I'd come through loomed to my left, shut tight.

But the red light twisted everything, made it feel wrong, like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

Where was Miss Isabella?

The thought hit me like a punch, and as if on cue, a voice purred behind me, so close I felt the breath on my neck.

"Kaori~"

I flinched, a shiver racing down my spine.

The silence had amplified her coo, turning it sharp and sinister.

I wanted to scream, to beg her to let me go, but the tape choked my words into pathetic whimpers.

She stepped into view at the edge of my vision, and my blood ran cold.

There she was—Miss Isabella, but not the polished teacher from class.

She wore the mask now, black leather obscuring the top half of her face, leaving only those hazel eyes and that sultry smirk.

Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and I knew, without a doubt, she was the woman from the game's cover—whip and all.

"Why are you avoiding me today?" she murmured, her voice a velvet tease.

"You're being a naughty girl."

Before I could brace myself, her hand cracked against my ass, a sharp, stinging slap that jolted me forward.

I yelped into the tape, the sound garbled and pitiful.

She spanked me again, harder this time, the burn spreading hot across my skin.

"So cute," she whispered, her tone dripping with delight as I squirmed.

Then her hands moved.

Her long and sleek fingers brushing the collar of my blouse.

"Let's see what's hiding under all this, hmm?"

She unbuttoned it, one by one, peeling the fabric open with a soft rustle.

"Such a prim little thing," she cooed, sliding it off my shoulders, letting it hang uselessly from my bound wrists.

The skirt came next, her nails grazing my thighs as she unzipped it, tugging it down to pool at my feet.

"Short and sweet—just how I like it," she mused, her voice low and approving.

She paused, stepping closer, her breath warm against my chest as she reached for the bra.

Her fingers lingered, tracing the lace edge before unhooking it with a flick.

"Oh, look at these," she purred, letting it fall, her hands brushing my bare breasts as she pulled it away.

"So soft, so perfect—begging to be touched."

My face burned, shame and heat warring inside me as she admired me, her gaze heavy and possessive.

The panties were last.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband, sliding them down inch by inch, her touch teasingly slow.

"And here's the prize," she whispered, her voice thick with lust as they dropped to my ankles, leaving me bare except for my knee-high socks and loafers.

"So wet already, Kaori—such a naughty, needy girl."

Her nails grazed my hips, and I flinched, my muffled protests fading into a weak, trembling whimper.

I stood there, naked and exposed, the red light bathing me in its eerie glow.

Miss Isabella circled me, her masked face unreadable, but those eyes—they pinned me, stripped me down further than any clothes ever could.

I was scared, trapped, and—god help me—something else I couldn't name.