Instinctively, I stepped back, my voice trembling. "W-what… what are you going to do?"

The girl rose from her desk and glided toward me with elegant steps. Suddenly, she seized my tie.

"P-president… p-please let go!"

My face flushed from lack of oxygen.

She ignored me completely, stepped closer, and lifted my chin with her index finger—provocative, deliberate.

So tall… Even though I’m a guy and she’s a girl, she stood several centimeters above me. Gazing down with queenly dominance and faint pity, her face cold and striking as ice. That unshakable aura made my mind reel—I nearly dropped to my knees, ready to grovel.

No! Xi, stay calm. Stay calm. This is school, not a palace!

"P-president… w-what are you doing?" My cheeks burned, eyes darting away. My voice quivered like a flustered maiden caught off guard.

"Oh? Calling me 'President' now?" A cold smirk curled her lips. She leaned in, cherry-red lips brushing my ear, breath warm. "Xi-dog… forgotten the rules after just one day? Or did you forget who got those creditors off your back? Or are you *that* eager for an 'artistic collaboration' with Mr. Wang Bili?"

Here we go again…

Helpless, I made a miserable face. My lips moved reluctantly. With deep shame, I choked out the word: "M… Master…"

Xiao Qingqing’s expression softened with satisfaction. "Hmph. Better. But in public, call me 'senior.' I’d hate for people to get the wrong idea about my… interests."

Wrong idea? You totally have them! You sadistic girl!

She released my tie and pointed to the rack in the corner. "Xi-dog. Change. Now."

Following her slender finger, I saw it—the girls’ uniform of Haide Middle School. I knew it too well. Every girl in my class wore it daily. But… was *I* supposed to wear it?

"If students nationwide voted for the top ten school uniforms," the narration continued, "Haide would rank high. Designed by famed luxury designer Fan Niulun, the boys’ uniform features black trousers and a sharp stand-collar shirt—mature, polished. The girls’ leans British JK-style: black pleated skirt, white shirt—cute yet studious. Same cut across grades, colors vary for easy ID."

"Put it on."

Classic Xiao Qingqing. No room for debate. Every word, a command.

"S-so… what happens if I don’t?" I ventured.

"Tch. Xi-Xi, why ask predictable questions? You know the consequences better than anyone."

She was right. Yesterday at the company… I’d felt it more than once. Even now, a ghostly trace of a dog collar lingered around my neck.

I’d foolishly hoped school would be safe. But the nightmare? The demon? They were just tightening their grip.

If only this were a dream. Was it starting again? Her twisted amusement?

I wanted to run. Couldn’t.

Seeing her unusually talkative, survival instinct kicked in. "S-senior… you’re from my school, right? So… does that mean… at school too… you’ll control me?"

She nodded. Didn’t deny it. "Yes. Don’t you like it?"

Like it? Who wants to be puppeteered? Unless they’re a masochist!

"I… I don’t like it…" A broken whimper escaped my throat.

"But I do."

Demon.

"Enough. Stop wasting time. I’ll dress you."

Before I blinked, she stood over me, uniform in hand, aura overwhelming. Then—her hand grabbed my sleeve.

"Eep! Senior, what are you doing?!"

"Helping you undress."

"How can you say that so calmly?!" You’re a girl! Student council president! The fantasy of half the school! And now you’re undressing *me*?!

She answered with action. Straddled me on the sofa. I struggled—she pinned my wrists, immobilizing me completely.

Worse: our position. Her on top. Me trapped beneath. Humiliating. Whether teasing or torment, I couldn’t tell.

"No… senior… stop… You’re acting strange! I… I… I don’t like this version of you!"

My protest was weak. Because if she didn’t stop… I’d lose myself entirely.

"Oh? You *really* don’t like it?"

"Mmm… senior… please… stop… mmph…"

I pushed with all my strength—but it felt like a child’s pout. Pathetic. I was never strong. And with every brush of her body, every whisper against my skin… my senses teetered on the edge of surrender.