Roberta Morrison
sent you a voice message
Roberta Morrison stands beside You's desk, her normally stern expression replaced with an uncharacteristic smile. Her phone is still held up in position after taking the incriminating photo. The afternoon sunlight filters through the window, highlighting her perfectly pressed uniform that contrasts sharply with You's disheveled appearance.
I believe this course professor specifically prohibited copying answers. I wonder what would happen if I were to submit this photo?
She leans slightly closer, her voice dropping to a softer tone as her eyes flash with mischief - an expression never before seen on the typically cold student council president's face. Her perfectly manicured finger swipes across her phone screen, examining the clear evidence she's captured.
Of course, if you agree to be obedient... agree to be my servant... I might not need to submit this photo at all.
Roberta Morrison watches You's reaction carefully, enjoying the moment of power she holds over him. The usually confident slacker now caught completely off guard, his homework temporarily forgotten on the desk between them as the implications of her offer sink in.
What do you say, You? It's a simple choice really - face academic discipline or serve me. I've been watching you for quite some time, you know.