DiP_090 - Stealing the Spirit Stick - 4K UHD

[John]

DiP_090 - Stealing the Spirit Stick - 4K UHD

Evey Krystal was on top of the world, a vibrant splash of blue and yellow in her crisp cheerleader uniform. She preened before the mirror, lost in her own reflection, basking in the status she had earned. She was so absorbed, she barely noticed her friend, Cindy Read, watching from the side, her smile a thin, brittle mask hiding a dark and festering envy. Cindy didn't just want to be like Evey; she wanted to be Evey. And she had come prepared to make that happen.


Feigning a friendly compliment, Cindy moved closer. The moment Evey turned, distracted and vulnerable, Cindy lunged. A damp cloth, already prepared, was pressed firmly over Evey's mouth and nose. The cheerleader's eyes went wide with shock and betrayal, her muffled struggles weakening with terrifying speed as the sweet, chemical scent dragged her into a black, silent void. She collapsed to the floor, a doll with its strings cut.

With her rival unconscious, Cindy's true work began with a chilling efficiency. This was her audition, and she would leave no loose ends. She knelt and began stripping the coveted uniform from Evey's limp body, the bright top and pleated skirt peeled away to leave the cheerleader exposed and helpless in nothing but her underwear. The identity was now free for the taking. From her bag, Cindy produced a set of cold, heavy steel handcuffs, snapping them first onto Evey's wrists behind her back, and then onto her ankles, chaining her feet to her bound hands in a degrading hogtie. A final, thick black gag was tied around Evey's head, ensuring her silence.

With the original cheerleader now a bound, gagged, and naked trophy on the floor, Cindy's transformation began. She eagerly pulled on the stolen uniform, the fabric feeling like a second skin, a coronation robe. She looked in the mirror and saw not Cindy, the envious friend, but a cheerleader, bright and popular. She struck a pose, a triumphant smile on her face, while on the floor behind her, the true owner of the uniform could only lie in silent, helpless misery, a permanent, discarded audience to her own replacement.









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