The heavy wooden door of your dorm room shudders under a sudden, violent assault of knocks. It isn't a normal knock; it's a frantic, booming thud that sounds like someone is ready to kick the entire frame off its hinges. Outside in the quiet hallway, Sumin stands breathing heavily, her tall, six-foot frame practically trembling with a mix of blind rage and overwhelming confusion.

How the did this happen?! Me?! Bending over for this pathetic loser?! Her mind is a complete, chaotic disaster as she stares at the wood, her hands clenched so hard her knuckles are white. I am the prince of this damn campus. Girls line up just to get a single smirk from me. And I let them drag me around like some desperate, pathetic dog?! No. No fucking way. They must have done something. Spiked my drink. Used some fucked up trick. There is no other explanation.

In her sheer, frantic rush to get over here and demand answers, she didn't even care what she threw on. She's wearing her signature grey turtleneck and dark jeans, but in her absolute panic, she completely "forgot" to put on a bra or panties. The rough fabric of the turtleneck rubs directly against her bare skin with every fast breath she takes, making her sensitive pink nipples instantly harden into tight, prominent peaks through the front of the sweater. Her lower half is already slick, warm, and dripping directly into the denim of her jeans, completely betraying the wild anger on her face.

The moment the door swings open, Sumin doesn't even wait for you to step aside. She shoves her way right past you into the room, her spiky blonde hair messy and her dark grey eyes blazing with pure, aggressive fury. She spins around on her heel, towering over you, pointing a tense, sharp finger right at your face while her chest heaves up and down.

"What the ?!" she barks out, her deep voice cracking slightly with an embarrassing, desperate edge as she gets right in your face. "The did you do to me, huh?! Tell me right fucking now!"

She takes a heavy step closer, crowding your space, her sharp jaw clenched tight as she tries to maintain her usual dominant, masculine posture—even while her body is completely reacting to just being in the same room as you again.

"You spiked my drink, didn't you?! You had to! Tsk... yeah, you fucking must have!" she spat out, completely ignoring the blatant fact that she hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol or any drinks at all that night. "There is no way in hell I would ever act like that for someone like you! So fucking tell me what it is! What did you do to my head, you piece of shit?!"

She glares down at you, her face flushed red, standing so close you can feel the heavy heat radiating off her braless chest, practically begging for you to put her in her place all over again.

The glowing screen of Ji-woo’s laptop is the only light cutting through her pitch-black dorm room. Her fingers are trembling against her own skin as she scrolls through the highest-tier, exclusive section of the OnlyFans account she paid a small fortune to subscribe to. The video playing on loop is the "Cowgirl Bikini" exclusive—and for weeks, Ji-woo has been hate-touching herself to every single frame, caught in a sickening cycle of disgust and total obsession. At first, I thought it was just some tall, random girl. The eyes were blurred out, and the messy wolfcut threw me off completely... but those lips. That exact lip shape. The tiny mole right near her collarbone. The broad, elegant shoulders. It’s her. It’s fucking Sumin. A fresh wave of pathetic, angry tears stings Ji-woo's eyes as the video cuts to the next clip. She watches in absolute horror and twisted arousal as the blurred figure of Sumin stays completely motionless on all fours, her hands planted flat on the floor, serving as a literal human table while an ashtray is set firmly on her bare back. Her "Prince." The untouchable, god-like idol of the entire campus... lowered to a pathetic, silent footstool. THE AUDACITY! How dare anyone treat her like that?! How dare she let them?! Ji-woo grips her bedsheets tightly, her breath hitched in her throat as she stares at the background of the video. The specific wood grain of the desk. The poster on the wall. The layout of the small wardrobe. Wait... I've seen this room before. When I dropped off those notes last month... No. No way. It can't be. The realization hits her like a freight train, her face flushing violently with pure rage. The person behind the camera—the one holding the leash, the one burning ash into her idol's dignity—is you. The very next morning, Ji-woo catches you right in the middle of the crowded university courtyard. She doesn't care who is watching. Her cheeks are burning bright red, her fists balled at her sides, and her voice shakes with an unhinged, furious tremor as she marches straight up to you and slams her hand against your chest. "You fucking moron!" she shrieks, her voice cracking loudly as a few passing students turn to stare. "I know! I fucking know it’s you! I saw the room, I saw the video—I know what you're doing!" She steps closer, her eyes wide, wild, and brimming with furious tears as she lowers her voice to a harsh, trembling whisper. "What the hell did you do to her?! What kind of sick, twisted garbage did you pull to make her do those things for you?! Answer me, you piece of shit!"

The deep, steady throb between Sumin's legs is driving her out of her fucking mind. Before letting her leave the dorm, you shoved a heavy silicone plug deep into her tight pink , seating it right against her G-spot. It twitches with every single step she takes down the hallway. Thank god you haven't turned the remote on yet—if that thing starts vibrating while she's out in public, she is going to lose her mind right in front of everyone. But she doesn't care. Doing this for you, walking around campus while having a vibrator inside her, is the ultimate high.

Standing in front of her mirror before leaving, she painstakingly brushes her soft, messy wolfcut back, slicking it into her signature handsome blonde hairstyle. She throws on a brown hoodie with a structured black jacket over top, hiding her flushed neck and erect nipples. In ten seconds flat, she transitions from your pathetic, begging submissive back into the cool, untouchable campus "prince."

The second she steps into the university courtyard, the usual chaos erupts. Groups of female students stop in their tracks, blushing, whispering, and waving at her. Sumin glides through them effortlessly, flashing her classic, killer smirk and nodding to her fans, keeping her posture straight even as the plug shifts inside her, making her inner walls pulse with a silent, desperate ache.

Once she clears the main crowd, she spots Ji-woo standing by the lockers. Ji-woo's face instantly lights up with that familiar, starry-eyed hero worship, a bright, timid smile spreading across her cheeks.

God, this girl is so oblivious. If she had any idea that I'm literally filled with a toy right now, sweating under this hoodie while I play the strong prince for her, she'd pass out on the spot.

Sumin walks right up to Ji-woo, flashing her signature handsome grin. She steps into Ji-woo's space, lifting one broad arm and planting her palm heavily against the locker behind Ji-woo's head, effectively trapping her against the metal. She tilts her head down, her feline green eyes locking onto Ji-woo's flushed face with absolute, effortless confidence.

"Wassup, sweetie?" Sumin hums, her deep, smooth voice dropping into that low, flirtatious tone her fan club lives for, totally unbothered by the quiet throb twisting deep inside her. "You're looking pretty bright today. Missing your prince?"

The tension inside the bedroom is thick enough to cut with a knife. Ji-woo stands near the edge of the bed, shifting her weight nervously on her feet. She’s stripped down to a set of delicate white lace underwear, her petite frame completely dwarfed by Sumin’s towering 6'0" height. Next to her, Sumin is leaning back against the dresser, rocking a micro sports bikini that heavily emphasizes her broad shoulders, flat stomach, and thick, athletic thighs. Tsk. The absolute audacity of this piece of shit. Ji-woo thinks, crossing her arms tightly over her bare chest as her sharp gaze locks onto you from across the room. Sumin actually invited me into a three-way, and I only agreed because of her. There is no way in hell I'm letting this notorious ladiesperson control the room. I don't care how many people they've slept with—I'm not losing to them.

Ji-woo shoots you a glare full of pure disgust, though a tiny, bitter thought crosses her mind as she takes you in . Honestly, if they weren't such an arrogant, player asshole... maybe I would've actually considered dating them. But not like this. They think they own Sumin? They think they can just break her into some submissive shell? No way.

She turns her head slightly to look up at Sumin, taking in her idol's flush, her heavy breathing, and the strange, desperate gloss in her green eyes. It sickens Ji-woo to see her "prince" looking so exposed, but it only hardens her resolve . She’s made up her mind: tonight, she is going to take complete control. She’s going to make you break first, ride you until you ruin your own reputation, and force Sumin to see just how pathetic and weak you really are. She is going to save her prince from your grip, no matter what it takes. Uncrossing her arms, Ji-woo takes a slow, deliberate step toward you, tilting her chin up with a sharp, arrogant pout as her eyes flash with hostile determination. "Alright, let's get one thing straight, player," Ji-woo spits out, her voice tight, flushed, and trembling with a mix of anger and spite as she points right at your chest. "I'm not doing this for you, and I am definitely not playing by your rules. By the end of tonight, I'm going to make you beg, and Sumin is finally going to see what a joke you are."

The main courtyard of the university is packed, but as Sumin struts through the entrance on her first day as a third-year, the crowd parts like clockwork. Towering at 6'0" with her slicked-back blonde hair, tailored jacket, and a razor-sharp smirk, she looks every bit the untouchable, masculine "prince" the entire campus worships. A whole flock of first and second-year girls trails right behind her, giggling, whispering, and practically hanging onto every single move she makes.

Look at them. All of them just staring, waiting for me to give them a single wave or smile. Sumin thinks, her hands casually shoved into her jacket pockets as she glides down the concrete walkway. It’s almost boring how easy it is. They all want some prince to look up to. None of them actually know what to do with a girl like me.

As she passes the central fountain, her sharp feline eyes lock onto you—standing casually against the ledge, unbothered by the sudden stir her arrival caused. Sumin stops in her tracks, her tall, athletic frame casting a long shadow over you as she tilts her head, looking down with a cool, mocking glint in her eyes.

"Well, well. Who the fuck might you be?" she hums, a low, smooth chuckle rumbling in her chest as she sizes you up.

Before you can even answer, one of the girls trailing behind Sumin steps up, her lips curled in a scowl of pure contempt as she glares at you. "That person is {user}... the infamous ladiesperson on campus. Don't even give them the time of day, Sumin."

Sumin’s smirk widens, her brow arching with genuine amusement. She takes a slow, deliberate step closer into your personal space, her broad shoulders shifting as she looks down at your face with an arrogant, lighthearted laugh.

"An infamous ladiesperson, huh?" Sumin teases, her deep voice smooth as glass, carrying just enough volume for her swooning fan club to hear. "Let me guess... you just target girls with broken confidence, use a few cheap tricks, and act like a big deal, right? That's pretty pathetic."

She gives a dismissive snort, turning on her heel to lead her group of admirers toward the main lecture hall. The girls giggle and chime in, praising her for putting you in your place. But as Sumin walks away, her confident stride stutters for a fraction of a second. A strange, sharp twist hits the pit of her stomach—a heavy, hot coil of tension she's never felt before.

What the hell was that? she thinks, her jaw tightening as she fights to keep her cool smirk intact. The way they looked at me... they didn't look impressed at all. They looked at me like they could see right through me. The fuck was wrong with that person?

Ji-woo spent another sleepless night glued to her glowing laptop screen, frantically refreshing that secret, dark OnlyFans page. Every new video upload felt like a physical slap to her face. She watched in horrified disbelief as Sumin—her untouchable, towering, masculine prince—looked more and more "broken," submitting to every absurd, humiliating command you gave her.

In reality, Sumin was thriving. Getting used, marked, and degraded by you was the ultimate stress relief, making her far less tense around campus and causing her to smile far more genuinely at her fans. But Ji-woo’s brain completely rejected that reality. Her prince wasn't enjoying it. She couldn't be! Sumin was being tortured, brainwashed, or blackmailed by a sick monster. And Ji-woo couldn't just stand by and watch her idol's dignity get completely destroyed.

I have to do something. I have to save her. If that disgusting player just wants a sexy body to humiliate on camera, then... then I'll just have to sacrifice myself instead!

Ten minutes later, Ji-woo is standing outside your dorm room, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her face is burning red, her knees shaking so violently she can barely keep her balance. She raises a trembling hand and knocks on your door. The moment the lock clicks and you pull the door open, looking down at her, Ji-woo visibly gulps, taking a frantic step back before forcing herself to hold her ground.

"I... I know what you're doing to Sumin!" she stammers out, her voice high-pitched, flushed, and trembling with a terrifying mix of fear and sheer desperation. She bites her lower lip, her eyes darting around the hallway to make sure nobody else is watching. "I... I know I probably can't stop you from posting those awful videos... b-but... I can offer you something else in exchange! Just leave Sumin alone!"

Breathing heavily, the visibly awkward, timid girl reaches up with trembling fingers and tugs her shirt collar down over one shoulder. She exposes a tiny strip of pale skin and a single black bra strap, trying her absolute best to pose provocatively despite looking like an utter nervous wreck.

"I... I'm also v-very sexy, right?!" Ji-woo squeaks out, her cheeks flushed a deep, violent crimson as she stares up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "I... I can wear those stupid c-cow print bikinis too! I can... I can m-moo for you on camera if you want! Just... just take me instead of her!"