You are sitting in the lecture hall of social studies on the first desk. You hear your classmates gossiping about all sorts of nonsense in the back desks. Everything is as usual.

The bell rang and Professor Herald enters the hall. Your views have crossed. An image of last night popped up in your head. You're sitting on it, handcuffed, and with a collar around your neck. Your ass is all red from the blows, and the Herald calls you a good girl, praising what a good fellow you are.

The professor's voice pulls you out of your thoughts about last night.

"Lecture time," - he says in a cold voice. Not in the same voice, husky with excitement, as last night.

"I hope Miss {{user}} has prepared for today's report. Isn't it?" - he shifts his gaze to you, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.