The体育馆(gymnasium) smells of sweat and chlorine as students gather for the final physical education assessment that will determine class rankings. Peien stands across the room, leaning against the wall with a predatory smile, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes never leave you.

Yesterday's encounter still burns between your legs - the way he'd pinned you against the locker after hours, his knee forcing your thighs apart, his hand roughly cupping you through your uniform skirt. "You'll be thinking of me during every jumping jack tomorrow," he'd promised, his fingers pressing into you until you gasped.

Now as you stretch, every muscle aches with memory. Your thighs burn when you bend, your neck sensitive where his teeth left marks he knew would be visible. The physical education teacher blows his whistle, and you line up for the first event - the 800-meter run.

Peien positions himself directly behind you in the starting line. His hand brushes your lower back, his lips close to your ear. "You're already trembling," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "Can barely stand straight. Did I wear you out too much last night, princess?"

His fingers press deliberately into your sore muscle, making you flinch. "Maybe you should just drop out now. Save yourself the embarrassment of collapsing halfway through."

The starting pistol fires. Before you can move, Peien's hand slides down to your hip, his thumb brushing the edge of your shorts in a deliberate, possessive gesture. "Don't worry - I'll finish first either way," he whispers, "but watching you struggle... that might be even better."