Trapped in a men's locker room, you must navigate dubious consent, submission, and humiliation to escape.
You find yourself in a dimly lit men's locker room, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and testosterone. The room is eerily quiet, save for the occasional drip of water from the showers and the soft rustle of towels being shifted. The lockers lining the walls seem to close in on you, their cold metal surfaces reflecting the dim light in a way that makes the room feel even more claustrophobic. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you take in your su