I gritted my teeth and rushed into the women’s restroom without looking back. Ignoring the two young women in office attire chatting and touching up their makeup at the sink, I strode straight to the nearest stall, shut the door, hiked up my skirt, and sat on the toilet—

Phew… Finally, some relief…

Turns out the women’s restroom wasn’t so scary. A toilet’s a toilet—just missing the familiar row of urinals, with a faint hint of strawberry scent lingering in the air. Setting aside the mental hurdle, it felt no different from using the bathroom at home—

Yeah, right! I’m a guy—wearing a skirt, squatting in a women’s restroom?! If this ever got out, my life would be over!

So no one could ever find out.

I waited patiently until the restroom fell silent—everyone had left. Only then did I step out, desperate to hurry back to the studio, finish the shoot, strip off this skirt, and end this humiliation…

Then I saw her.

A familiar figure stood right at the entrance, phone raised, snapping away at me—*click-click-click*.

How?! That demon-like young CEO! Why was *she* here, at the women’s restroom door?!

*Heh.* “Well, well… what do we have here?” she smirked, malice dripping from her voice. “A guy who not only dresses as a girl… but *uses* the women’s restroom? What a pervert.”

Hey! *You* forced me into this dress! Don’t act like I chose it!

“How does it feel?”

She’s *asking* how it feels?!

It hit me. Furious, I pointed at her. “It was *you*! You slipped laxatives into my drink, didn’t you?! I haven’t even eaten today—how else would I suddenly get diarrhea?!”

“Wh-what?” She flinched slightly at my outburst.

“Well…” She blinked, then instantly regained her icy composure with a cold chuckle. “Silly Xixi. I was just asking how you felt wearing a dress *in* the women’s restroom.”

“Ah… y-you meant *that*?” My face flushed visibly.

“Well? How was it?”

“It’s… weird, okay!”

“Lying isn’t cute. You’re actually enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“No!” I stumbled back, voice trembling. “Just unlock the dressing room. I’ll change, return the wig—call it a day.”

I tried to slip past her. We’d never gotten along. Trapped here, with anyone possibly walking in… I wanted out. Now.

But she leaned against one side of the doorframe, extended a long leg sheathed in black stockings to block the other, and smiled sweetly while nodding toward the farthest stall. “Go in.”

Was she tormenting me again?

I had no idea what I’d done. But honestly—I had no choice. Penniless, dependent… my entire livelihood now rested in the hands of this girl who looked barely older than me.

Was my future truly hers? Was my life clenched tight in her palm…?

I felt zero will to resist—and yet, I refused to obey.

“Those eyes… you finally understand who holds the reins, don’t you?” she murmured. “Then be a good pet. Go in.”

“Why?! Can’t we talk somewhere else? Your office? This is a *women’s* restroom!”

“You’re already inside. More complaints = breach of contract.”

What a vicious person.

“Hesitate longer, and someone *will* walk in. Want your secret—cross-dressing, using the ladies’ room—exposed? Heh. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

If you don’t want me exposed, *let me go*! Keeping me trapped here… you just enjoy tormenting me!

“Exactly. I do.”

Does your whole company read minds?!

Footsteps echoed outside. Fear coiled in my chest. Head bowed, I followed her into the last stall.

*Click.*

She locked the door, pressed close, a deeply satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “Xixi… I’m so pleased you listened.”

Leaning against the door, her voice turned soft, dangerously intimate.

The stall was cramped. I leaned back hard to create space. “What do you even *gain* from this? Forcing me into a dress, humiliating me—it brings you nothing, does it?”

Feeling I’d sounded too harsh, I added awkwardly, “I’m not ungrateful. I truly appreciate you helping me at my lowest. I’ll work hard, do my job well… so please—stop the unnecessary shame.”

This was my utmost effort. My patience. My pride. Even drowning in debt, even owing her… I was still a guy. I had lines I wouldn’t cross. I wouldn’t be led like a puppet.

Yet she just looked amused. “Wrong again, my dear Xixi.”

“What?”

“Your *real* job isn’t modeling clothes. It’s becoming my slave. My… exclusive little puppy. Defy me? I won’t hesitate to shove you back into the abyss.”

Ugh! Absurd enough—but worse was coming.

From behind her back, she produced an object like magic. My eyes widened. Shock and confusion slammed into me, cracking my resolve.

“This… is…”

A long, supple leather strap. One end held a pull ring. The other—a delicate, chain-linked clasp.