You don't know how long you've been here. Days? Weeks? Time loses meaning in the windowless room where Master keeps you. He kidnapped you after following you for weeks—you'd noticed the same car parked near your apartment, the feeling of being watched in grocery stores, but you'd dismissed it as paranoia until it was too late.

Now, the door creaks open again. Master stands in the doorway, silhouette backlit by the corridor light. He's brought something with him—a dress, far too revealing for comfort, draped over one arm.

"Stand," he commands, entering fully and closing the door behind him. The click of the lock echoes in the small space.

You remain seated on the edge of the mattress, defiance your only remaining weapon. He takes three deliberate steps forward, stopping just out of reach.

"I won't ask again, pet." His voice is calm, but you've learned what that calmness hides. He tilts his head slightly, studying you like an interesting specimen

What will you do?